wham bam thank you ma'am

man I'm just here

[midwinterhunt]

hot artists don't gatekeep

I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard

Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.

Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.

Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.

Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.

SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.

SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.

Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.

Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.

Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.

Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.

Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.

[narrettwist]

Homie gonna share this

[put-a-keep-are-you-foo-dell]

[sourdough-seal]

hyperfixation please stay with me long enough to complete the project. hyperfixation do not fade. hyperfixation finish what you started for the love of god

[st-osmanthus]

Do you think Zoro has ever looked at Rayleigh and felt his insides freeze from fear? Do you think he sees a version of his own future where despite everything he’s tried, despite all the blood he’s shed and would go on to shed, his captain would still slip away from his hold — and he’d be left adrift for the rest of his days, drinking to oblivion, alone, bereft of any and all purpose?

Or do you think Zoro would be filled with contempt instead, and disgust at how the peerless Dark King failed to save his own captain’s life, even though it was no fault of his? Do you think Zoro, possessing the stubbornness and bravado of a much younger man, would insist that if it were him, nothing — absolutely no man or force in the universe — would be strong enough to rend him from Luffy’s side, and if Luffy had to die like Roger had to die, that Zoro would simply follow him to the afterlife?

Or do you think perhaps he’s unable to picture it at all — a life without Luffy’s warmth — so he ignores the many parallels between them and avoids contemplating the matter entirely? Perhaps he rather pities Rayleigh, because the former right hand man of the Pirate King should be free, but Rayleigh will never again know the meaning of the word, haunted as he is by a ghost he can’t bear to exorcise.

[nightingale-prompts]

Just your average coffee shop AU-DCxDP prompt

What do you do when you've been blacklisted from every coffee chain in Gotham?

You have to find other sources.

That is Tim's current predicament but he put out a few messages out and an informant got back to him about a new café that opened on the outskirts of the city.

There wasn't much else on it other than the fact that it was located in an old cemetery. No details or anything.

Desperate for the black icker that made up his blood by this point Tim went.

Walking down the cobblestone path Tim began to doubt if the shop was real. The decrepit tombstones seemed to be the only people here but as he passed the mausoleums he saw a single stone crypt that had a sign.

Hours:

Tues-Saturday 12pm-3:00 am

Sunday: All day

Mon: Closed

(Vlad Masters is banned)

Tim opened the stone door and heard the faint sound of violins and saxophones. A staircase led deeper to an aged wooden door.

The rusty door henge screeched as he opened the door like a doorbell. The room was a lounge with plush seats and smooth wood tables. A dance floor was in the center currently occupied by well dressed patrons. The scent of fresh dark roast coffee filled the air. A band played live music, it was a blend of gothic folk and Jazz. The booths were filled with a few patrons cheering for the performers as they drank coffee and played cards.

The counter where he could order his drink was a bar. Despite what you'd assume they weren't selling alcohol at least not yet. The man behind the counter beckoned him over.

The barista dressed in a white dress shirt and a black buttoned vest embroidered with a ribcage design. He had fingerless gloves with matching skeletal hand design. The man's face was a pale bit warm tone with a blueish green hue on his cheekbones. His lips were a dark ashen black with a subtle shine. It was probably just the aesthetic.

"Evening, traveler." His voice practically purred as he greeted the weary young man"The rhythm's alive, and the spirits are waiting—how can I make your afterlife?"

"Coffee. Black." Tim said gruffly despite to get it in his system.

"Oh, you got it bad, don't you? Let me get you something that will actually help." The bartender said turning to brew a cup.

Tim's eyes scanned the chalkboard menu that hung above the bar.

Hot Coffee Drinks:

Graveyard Brew – A rich dark roast with a hint of smoked caramel. (Tucker's pick)

Phantom Flat White – A smooth flat white with ghostly foam art. (Danny's pick)

Latté of the Damned– A spiced pumpkin latte with black cinnamon dust. (Jazz's pick)

Eternal Espresso– A bold, double-shot espresso.

The Velvet Casket – Mocha with dark chocolate and a touch of vanilla.

Sepulcher Spice – Chai-spiced coffee with a hint of nutmeg. (Val's pick)

Necromancer’s Nitro – Nitro cold brew with a dash of maple syrup. (Dan's pick)

Iced Coffee Drinks:

Cold-Brew Crypt– Smooth cold brew with a splash of sweet cream.

Chilled Cadaver– Iced coffee with coconut milk and a shot of hazelnut. (Dani's pick)

The Frosted Requiem – Blended mocha with chocolate drizzle.

Soulful Swirl– Iced latte with caramel and a swirl of blackcurrant syrup.

Moonlit Macchiato– Vanilla macchiato with activated charcoal. (Sam's pick)

Tim definitely sensed a theme here.

"I added a few shots of expresso and some dark chocolate liquor. It should get you right and some minor heart palpitations. I think I'll call it 'The Black Veil'." The barista smiled very cat-like.

"Am I getting my name on the board?" Tim quipped without thinking as he sipped the hot coffee. Actually, it was cooler than he thought it would be. It was the perfect temperature. And the taste was amazing.

"Only if you're a regular and I think your drink might be too much for anyone else." The barista laughed softly.

"So...this place is pretty um...gothic?"

"This place used to be just for the dead but we've recently over up to the living."

"Heh, I get it."

"Get what?"

Tim coughed awkwardly. He didn't want to stop talking to the goth barista yet and the quality coffee was convincing. Maybe it was the environment. It was like walking into a different world.

"So what's this place called? So I know what Im coming back to." Tim tried to sound cool but let's face it, he's been beat.

"This is the Catacomb Club. Where the spirits swing and the night never sleeps. You should come again soon, cutie. I think I got a good surge of inspiration just looking at you." He purred in delight as he leaned over the bar tapped Tim's cheek.

Tim felt his face burn, the touch felt like electricity tickling his skin. A string of babbling seemed to come out of this mouth as he tried to respond.

"Heh heh, don't keep me waiting dear," he laughed "Oh, and by the way. My name is Danny. Catch me in the early shift. My brother works the late shit mixing the alcohol. But if you want you can catch me on the stage or on the dance floor. I might even make you an extra cup or two." Danny said.

Tim found his footsteps on the way up lighter and only when he made it back the cematary gate did he notice.

He never paid.

[sunshiney-rea]

Dan: ANCIENTS DAMMIT DANNY YOU CAN’T KEEP GIVING AWAY FREE DRINKS TO WHATEVER TWINK WALKS IN HERE.

Danny: You’re not the boss of me!

Dan: I am LITERALLY the manager?!?!?

Dani, sipping her drink at the counter: How’d he even find the Catacomb so quickly? We only started offering service to the living world a week ago.

Danny: Tucker found him on the dark web. Apparently he was blacklisted from every café in the city and was “going to die” if he didn’t get decent caffeine.

Dan: Overdramatic AND looks like he just walked out of the morgue? He really is your soulmate.

[nightingale-prompts]

He had to meet a contact at some underground spot. Jason that was.

The contact was just Constantine, he said he had the info Jason wanted.

It was pretty fucking hard at first to find the club. It wasn't like the cemetery wanted a lot of light this late so you need a flashlight to find your way. Who opens a club in a cemetery anyway? At least it was secretive.

Pushing past the stone door and into the cellar the entire atmosphere shifted. The place felt different but in a good way.

The scent of polished wood, coffee, and wine was heavy. A Jazz band played songs that were from long before Jason's time as people swing danced like it was the 20s. But there was something off about them. A part of him just screamed that they were kindred spirits. Maybe it was the clear shared love for the classics.

Jason scanned the room for John and was alerted by text that he'd be late. Jason sighed and decided to head to the bar to order a drink. And what a drink he found.

Not to be rude, he didn't stare or anything but he was hot. The man tended the bar was tall matching Jason's height easily and then some. Muscular with his white dress sleeves rolled up halfway up his arms. He had an unbuttoned black vest with a skeletal ribcage pattern. His back was turned and Jason saw the spinal cord design that stretched up the length of his back highlighting the curve of his back. His long white hair was tied into a ponytail that swayed as he prepped drinks.

When he finally turned Jason saw a pair of eyes like fresh blood in white snow. You could tell he used the barest amount of makeup from the gloss on his lips or was that just his skin? Jason couldn't tell.

"You ordering?" He said gruffly it almost sounded like a growl. It didn't sound rude, more sultry beastly.

Jason quickly scanned the drink specials on the board.

Cocktails:

The Midnight Swing – A dark rum and blackberry cocktail.

Corpse Reviver No. 7 – A smoky mezcal twist on the classic.

Ethereal Elixir – Gin, elderflower, and glowing tonic water.

Graveyard Sour – Whiskey sour with activated charcoal.

The Tombstone Twist – Vodka, cranberry juice, and lime juice.

Sepulcher Sangria – A deep red wine blend with blackberries and blood orange. ( I ate all the oranges. Sorry :(. Go get more brat.)

Shadow Martini – Espresso martini with a hint of vanilla.

Cadaver Cooler – A chilling mix of gin, cucumber, and mint.

The Phantom’s Breath – A smoky bourbon and absinthe cocktail. (Hilarious Dan. Rename it. NO)

Six Feet Deep – Tequila, triple sec, and a dash of black lava salt. (Dan's pick)

Non-Alcoholic:

The Afterlife Spritz – Lime, ginger beer, and a splash of grenadine.

Moonlit Mocktail – Lavender syrup, lemon, and sparkling water. (Jazz's favorite)

Cemetery Cider – Chilled spiced apple cider with a cinnamon stick. (Dani can't have anymore. Not fair! Cinnamon gives you a rash)

The Ghostly Glow – Lemonade with blue curacao syrup and tonic water.

Eternal Fog – A cold iced tea in frosted glass with dry ice for effect.

Jason wanted to laugh at the drink names. The sheer irony of ordering any of these drinks was palpable. Six Feet Deep sounded like the one he'd get the most kicks out of. but before he could order it the bartender interjected.

"Easy revenant, you don't need to order the drinks we pour for mortals. I'll get you a proper drink." He said grabbing a tall shot glass and a bottle from under the counter. The thick green liquid sloshed around in the container. It glowed a radioactive Lazarus pit green.

The acidic liquid smelled strongly of death, a strange sickly sweet smell mixed with rot and acid. Just like the pit, but somehow instead of churning his stomach, it was pleasant.

"A shot of the pure stuff. Fresh too. It's not like the sewage you guys have around here." The bartender grinned wolfishly smile showing a set of sharp canines. "You're long overdue for a taste. It'll calm the spirit."

Against his better judgment, Jason took the drink. It tasted amazing, as it satiated a craving he didn't know he had. Like a long-forgotten memory returning. He felt something settling inside him, anger and resentment going from a shout to a mumble.

"Uh, thanks. I needed that. I think." Jason said with an edge of confusion.

"You can think me with paying for it. Money or Drachma, we take both." He said taking the glass and putting it in the sink.

"Drachma?"

"If you don't have enough I don't mind taking a drink of you instead. Although, I can't guarantee I won't drain you dry."He laughed.

"Stop flirting on the job! We need a Tombstone Twist and Phantom’s Breath. Also, rename it asshole!" A boy in his late teens barked at the man. "And fix your tie."

"Shut it brat." The bartender said in annoyance.

"You are always so strict with rules Mr.Manager, so don't get mad at me." The teen said crossing his arms before leaving to take orders.

"Is he?" Jason asked

"My brother. An annoying one at that." I am the only other one old enough to take charge besides my sister.

I get it. I have brothers too." Jason responded, "All of them get on my damn nerves."

"I couldn't take the thought of having another one of us around." the bartender laughed so deeply that it rumbled in his chest like a growl.

Jason paid for his drink with a bit extra on the side.

He had a feeling he'd be back soon.

[lvrbymj]

An eight year old Bruce Wayne summons Danny (who is 14 at the time, mind you) in the Wayne family manors attic.

Danny: please don't be a cultist please don't be a cultist please don't be a-

Danny:

Danny: That's a child. Why is there a child?

Bruce who honestly didn't expect his great great great great nth grandparents weird ass spellbook bullshit to work: [squinting at Danny in scrutiny] I thought the King of the Dead would be…taller.

Danny: Oh great and now I'm being insulted by a six year old. It's like Young Blood all over again, just more posh. And alive.

[chaoticwriting]

New Gotham Rouge

Okay, in Danny's defense, it sounds like a very good idea when he thought about it. Danny is currently laying on top of the clocktower looking at the smog filled sky. A few stars can be seen occasionally while he is staring and thinking about his decision.

When Danny is outed as Phantom. He ran away as his parents tried to capture and cut him open. He hid in a nearby cave for a few days as he thought of what to do when he suddenly had a brilliant idea. Let's fake his own death!

Danny stole a few parts and materials around Amity Park and made a makeshift bomb and rushed towards the GIW base. He freed all the ghosts and made a cinematic scene of exploding himself thus taking the whole building with him.

Danny also sends the ghost to set up a few bombs in his house after making sure Jazz, Sam and Tucker are not there. Just as he 'exploded' himself, the house also exploded destroying the portal and all the remaining research paper about anything ghost related.

Danny dove into the ground as the explosion distracted everyone and chose one direction to fly towards. A few hours later, he found himself in Gotham and surprisingly there is a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham. He flies around invisible while looking for a place to stay and he lands on the clocktower to rest after flying for so long.

Now, Danny doesn't know what he should do because he realizes one key component in staying alive for him. Obsession. Contrary to popular belief (Sam), his obsession is not protection. It is love. Love as in any act of love will fulfill his obsession. Him protecting his town is an act of love towards his town people. Him loving and studying space is an act of love towards himself. Him not taking revenge against his family and people that wrong him is an act of love towards humanity.

So, long story short, he needs to find a way to fulfill his obsession. He is laying on top of the clocktower and suddenly a very good idea comes into his mind.

A few weeks later

-Batcave-

Dick: Are you still searching for the glitter thief?

Tim: Yes. And it's driving me insane how little clue there is of this thief. I even tried asking Selina and even she is impressed by this thief's MO.

Steph: Are you sure you need to be stressing about this thief? It's probably a group of kids stealing glitters just because they can.

Tim: Are you telling me a group of kids can do a heist better than Selina? And this thief or group of thieves for some reason only stole biodegradable paint and glitters from all across the city without us finding where they store them? There must be something I am missing.

Suddenly, an alert appears at the batcomputer and catches everyone's attention. A live broadcast is showing Joker standing in front of a switch as Commissioner Gordon hanging from a rope on top of a pool of acid. Every single batfam suits up and rushes into Gotham to find the Joker before anything can happen.

Joker: Hahahaha. Good evening Gotham and Bats! Today, I have a dear friend of yours playing my game. In front of me is a switch to activate a time bomb that will explode a whole district if not dismantled. You have 20 minutes to dismantle the bomb and with every minute that passes, I will slowly lower the Commissioner into the pool of acid.

Joker then walks slowly towards the switch and flips it.

Joker: Your time starts now! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Batman and the crew rushes towards Gotham as they turn Gotham upside down for the bomb. 5 minutes passed and they become desperate enough that they even roped in some of the rogues like Penguin, Harley, Ivy and Croc. But no matter what they do, they can't find the bomb.

Just as the last minute passes, everyone expects a big explosion engulfing Gotham. Except there is no sound at all. In fact, it is eerily quiet. Everyone turns on Joker live broadcast to see even the man is confused. He turns around and sees Gordon having his feet inside the pool of acid like nothing is happening.

Suddenly a giggle appears. Everyone that hears the giggles starts to get goosebumps as suddenly, a kid with a half clown facemask at the bottom of his face, a green leather jacket, black jeans and white hair appears behind Joker. His hands are holding his stomach as his giggles turn into laughter that is eerily similar to Joker.

???:Hello everyone. I am Trickster. And I am here to crash the party.

Everyone: ????

Trickster: Hehehe, it's so funny to see everyone's confused expression. But no worries I am here to have fun. See, I even have your toys with me.

The Trickster phases his hand into his body and pulls out a very familiar brick. He throws it to Joker and the Joker runs away screaming and trips on his feet falling down the stairs.

The Trickster: Hahahahaha. Do you see his face? Hahaha. Oh boy, I should have recorded this. Hey this is a live stream right? Someone clip that. Anyway, I have defused the bomb. And the acid isn't actually acid. It's just colored water with a light beam at the bottom. I still can't believe he doesn't check the acid pool first.

The Trickster then goes towards Gordon and pulls him down from the rope. After Gordon touches the ground, he unties him and pats Gordon's shoulder.

Trickster: Well I guess this is good enough for the apology.

Gordon: Apology?

Trickster: *Rubbing his neck* Yeah, about that. I was the one that glitter bombed your office last week. I mistook your office for another corrupt policeman and accidentally placed it on your desk. I am also technically the cause of you getting caught today. In my defense, you shouldn't startle me like that.

Gordon: Wait, you're the kid that punched me.

Trickster: I'm not a kid. I'm 16. Plenty old if you ask me. Whatever, here is your phone. Go call Batman to pick you up. I want to go back to sleep after having fun tonight. Adios.

Gordon: Wait-

Trickster then disappears into thin air like he is never there in the first place. If not for his phone in his hand and later confirmation from everyone that watched the live stream, Gordon might have admitted himself into Arkham.

That is merely the start of the many incidents involving Gotham's newest rogue the Trickster.

[hecate-hollow]

I’ve hinted at it in other posts I’ve made, but the idea that Danny is just a little to non-human for people’s comfort is a head cannon I love. Which is half the reason he ends up in Gotham.

Gotham is cursed. Like full on, cursed the land the city was built on it’s imbedded in the brick and mortar of the buildings, cursed. But it leaves all Gothamites with a certain level of tolerability.

So Danny, who had the police called on him 5 different times during a college visit in metropolis because he was just a little too uncanny and everyone felt a certain degree of uncomfortable around him, learned that gothamites still pick up on the uncanny, but they can ignore it. At most he kinda get’s side eyed when he passes by, but most of Gotham gives off an odd vibe so they take it at face value and move on. Danny is not a registered rogue and is also not actively holding them up and they have better places to be.

That doesn’t mean it’s always ignored though. After Danny is admitted to the aerospace engineering program at Gotham U a Twitter account pops up that’s just called “Local GU Cryptid sightings.” It’s just pictures of Danny sleeping in the weirdest fucking places or security footage of him that keeps bugging out because they learn that they can’t take pictures of the kid without the footage going a little buggy.

The students in Danny’s cohort use the account to gauge Danny’s sanity level. They were not afraid to ask what was up with him, and instead of saying he’s a ghost he admitted to essentially living above a radioactive portal that contaminated him. His eyes glow and he has sharper teeth and ears. Also digital anything cannot capture his likeness.

And this was fascinating to them. They started doing some research because they wanted to know why some images had more distortion than others. Turns out the more tired Danny is the more distorted the photo becomes. So every now and then you’ll see someone snap a photo of Danny and be like “go home!” (They refer it to it as Danny’s sanity level because one time he started laughing so hard they thought he’s been gassed, but turns out he hadn’t slept in a week).

Still, it’s sorta become a game. Like how there are accounts that post pictures of the campus squirrels. It’s just that but with absurd Danny sightings. Someone caught him asleep in a tree once. No one knows how he got up there but he was sleeping against a gargoyle in the middle of the night and for the life of them they couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t just go home (he likes sleeping under the stars sometimes, even if he can’t see them through the smog). A teacher sent a student to retrieve something from storage. Danny was also down there, and can apparently see in the dark since said student turned the corner to a dark hall and glowing green eyes. (Geezus Danny you scared the shit out of me. Now don’t move. I need proof this happened or no one will believe me.)

It’s all pretty harmless. The first time Danny gets caught up in a rouge attack his teenage vigilante instincts kick in and he decks the leader in the face knocking him out cold.

Bruce is concerned because footage of the fight is distorted but both Jason and Tim take one look and laugh. “It’s just Danny. We already vetted him. He’s good,l. Remember the GCPD’s request about that kid who disarmed a bomb and disappeared? That was Danny. He was tired and likes to canabilize machines for his projects.”

Danny not a born Gothamite, but he certainly feels like one so they accept him into the fold easily enough.

[depravedmicrowave]

What probably alerted batman was the large amount of comments beneath the posts rating the “sanity level” of the being.

Tim had to explain it was a sleep rating system of how sleep deprived Danny probably was. Some just spitballed a 0-10 rating (zero being normal Danny Levels and 10 being he might literally go nuclear on campus). Others would use it as a brain teaser and has been used by professors as extra credit in math, science, and most often in physics. How far from the camera is he, what kind of camera was it, time of day, sleeping or not, other interferences, etc. to figure out Danny’s radioactivity in the time of his picture. As long as you could argue your points you’d get credit. It’s why pictures started sharing info on what phone/the location they were in when taking it.

Danny has no issue with it but it is strange doing a physics question surrounding your sleeping habits. But, eh, ce la vie

[sidena]

Gotham U wasn’t the best college in the country—not by a long shot. It was known for its rigorous programs, yes, but mostly for being the kind of place where you had to dodge a rogue or two on your way to a midterm. For Danny, it felt right.

He walked down the dimly lit corridor toward his aerospace engineering class, his backpack slung over his shoulder. A few students milled about, chatting in low tones, but most gave him a brief glance before pretending they hadn’t noticed his glowing green eyes. That’s Gotham for you.

In Metropolis, he couldn’t walk two blocks without someone side-eyeing him, whispering, or calling security. Five calls. Five. All because, apparently, his face was a little too sharp, his eyes a little too bright, and he had an uncanny way of making people uncomfortable. He’d had to explain the glow as an effect of “radioactive exposure,” which technically wasn’t a lie, but it didn’t stop the police from giving him the third degree every time he visited.

Gotham, on the other hand? Most people here could barely be bothered. Sure, they noticed he was... off. But they had better things to do—like, say, not getting mugged on their way home or avoiding the next Joker gas attack. Danny’s weirdness was just another quirk in an already strange city.

Which was why he felt a twinge of unease when his phone buzzed, alerting him to a new post from the now-popular Twitter account, @LocalGUCryptidSightings.

Danny groaned, already knowing what was waiting for him. Opening the app, he saw it: a grainy photo of himself, fast asleep, curled up on top of one of Gotham U’s many gothic gargoyles. He wasn’t even sure when he’d fallen asleep up there. He vaguely remembered deciding the night air was nice after a long day of lectures, but the rest was a blur. The caption read:

“Gotham’s favorite cryptid spotted napping with the gargoyles again. Danny Phantom or a really tired bat? Sanity Level: 7/10, he's probably running on 2 hours of sleep.”

Danny chuckled. They weren’t wrong—he had only gotten about two hours. His schedule lately had been brutal, balancing schoolwork, his personal projects, and the occasional ghost problem in the city. It was bound to catch up with him, but at least his classmates found it entertaining.

He scrolled through the replies.

@GU_EngineerGuy: “Can confirm, caught him asleep next to a freaking vent last week. How does one even...?” @CampusWatch: “Based on the distortion of his glow here, I'm guessing he's been up for at least 48 hours. 8/10 he might forget how doors work soon.” @MathProfGU: “Extra credit challenge: Based on camera type, distance, and time of day, calculate how radioactive Danny was in this photo. Make sure to include your work. Bonus points if you map the correlation between sleep deprivation and photo distortion. Class dismissed.”

Danny shook his head. They had turned him into a living, breathing math problem. At first, the glitchy camera footage and weird photos freaked people out. His likeness never quite captured correctly on digital media, but after explaining the "radioactive portal contamination" story, his classmates were fascinated. They couldn’t get enough of studying him, even turning his ghostly presence into an unofficial part of the curriculum.

Danny didn’t mind. The tweets and comments were harmless, and the speculation about his “sanity level” had become an inside joke at this point. Besides, he liked the Gotham U students—they were clever and resourceful, even if they enjoyed posting random pictures of him slumped in awkward places on campus.

It wasn’t a bad life, really. For once, no one was trying to hunt him down, and there wasn’t a ghostly crisis looming over his head. Sure, there were the occasional rogue attacks and a persistent smog that made star-gazing impossible, but it all felt strangely normal.

In Gotham, he was free to be a little weird without too much judgment. He could blend into the chaos, get through his classes, and maybe—just maybe—finally catch up on sleep.

[hecate-hollow]

I’ve hinted at it in other posts I’ve made, but the idea that Danny is just a little to non-human for people’s comfort is a head cannon I love. Which is half the reason he ends up in Gotham.

Gotham is cursed. Like full on, cursed the land the city was built on it’s imbedded in the brick and mortar of the buildings, cursed. But it leaves all Gothamites with a certain level of tolerability.

So Danny, who had the police called on him 5 different times during a college visit in metropolis because he was just a little too uncanny and everyone felt a certain degree of uncomfortable around him, learned that gothamites still pick up on the uncanny, but they can ignore it. At most he kinda get’s side eyed when he passes by, but most of Gotham gives off an odd vibe so they take it at face value and move on. Danny is not a registered rogue and is also not actively holding them up and they have better places to be.

That doesn’t mean it’s always ignored though. After Danny is admitted to the aerospace engineering program at Gotham U a Twitter account pops up that’s just called “Local GU Cryptid sightings.” It’s just pictures of Danny sleeping in the weirdest fucking places or security footage of him that keeps bugging out because they learn that they can’t take pictures of the kid without the footage going a little buggy.

The students in Danny’s cohort use the account to gauge Danny’s sanity level. They were not afraid to ask what was up with him, and instead of saying he’s a ghost he admitted to essentially living above a radioactive portal that contaminated him. His eyes glow and he has sharper teeth and ears. Also digital anything cannot capture his likeness.

And this was fascinating to them. They started doing some research because they wanted to know why some images had more distortion than others. Turns out the more tired Danny is the more distorted the photo becomes. So every now and then you’ll see someone snap a photo of Danny and be like “go home!” (They refer it to it as Danny’s sanity level because one time he started laughing so hard they thought he’s been gassed, but turns out he hadn’t slept in a week).

Still, it’s sorta become a game. Like how there are accounts that post pictures of the campus squirrels. It’s just that but with absurd Danny sightings. Someone caught him asleep in a tree once. No one knows how he got up there but he was sleeping against a gargoyle in the middle of the night and for the life of them they couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t just go home (he likes sleeping under the stars sometimes, even if he can’t see them through the smog). A teacher sent a student to retrieve something from storage. Danny was also down there, and can apparently see in the dark since said student turned the corner to a dark hall and glowing green eyes. (Geezus Danny you scared the shit out of me. Now don’t move. I need proof this happened or no one will believe me.)

It’s all pretty harmless. The first time Danny gets caught up in a rouge attack his teenage vigilante instincts kick in and he decks the leader in the face knocking him out cold.

Bruce is concerned because footage of the fight is distorted but both Jason and Tim take one look and laugh. “It’s just Danny. We already vetted him. He’s good,l. Remember the GCPD’s request about that kid who disarmed a bomb and disappeared? That was Danny. He was tired and likes to canabilize machines for his projects.”

Danny not a born Gothamite, but he certainly feels like one so they accept him into the fold easily enough.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Field trip.

Some people would call gothamites petty, but given that most of the USA population treated them as scum, they believed that their behavior was justified.

They didn't like tourists, to put it mildly. Therefore, after learning that in their city were people on a field trip from Amity Park who could not leave Gotham for several days due to weekly escape from Arkham, the news channel immediately decided that a short interview from the guests would definitely amuse the locals. The reaction of outsiders never ceases to be ridiculous.

Reporter: ~Good afternoon~ Gotham News! May I ask you to share what you liked most about our wonderful city?

Mr. Lancer*still in a cold sweat and looks at every passerby as a potential villain*: Uh, no, me..It's so unexpected. Well, first of all, people here are very…

Danny *is high after the tasting samples Dr. Crane gave him for free and is extremely eager to share his happiness with others*,* picks a microphone*.

Danny: Gotham is the best city in the world! Like seriously, damn, I'd like to die here. Although there are constant shootings somewhere, half the time people don't even shoot at me! I haven't been this relaxed since middle school! And in the evenings, there is often such a pleasant scent of fear and despair on the streets. This fear toxin of yours is a real miracle! It's sooo good!

Sam *decides to take the initiative in her own hands before Fenton says too much*: Personally, I am very pleased with the number of green spaces you have in your city. It's nice to see that here eco-activists are really being listened to. Also, the fact that most restaurants have a thoughtful menu for vegetarians left a very pleasant impression.

Dash in his favorite T-shirt "it's not gay if he's dead": Four words. Hips of Red Hood. The fact that it is not marked in the guidebook as the main attraction of the Crime Alley is a real crime. This dude clearly never skips leg days. My respect.

Tucker: What can I say? The speed of internet here, even during villains attacks, is absolutely  unbelievable. I don't want to leave this place.

Jazz: I love Gotham! Finally, I was able to buy all the works published by Dr. Harleen Quinzel. *girl picks up an impressive stack of books* For some reason, they are not available online.

The camera points at a red-haired guy with a twitching eye.

Wes: I'm 85% sure Bruce Wayne is Batman. I have a proof and I am ready to provide it.

A girl with a "Good Guess" pin from Riddler enters and takes camera away from conspiracy theorist.

Star: Sorry, he slipped out at night and went to look for problems. Again. Don't pay any attention to him. He's always like this when he drinks more than two energy drinks in a row.

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[faeriekit]

When he wakes, the boy is human. Dark haired. Blue-eyed.

...Bruce has a sneaking suspicion that this tyrant, whether consciously or unaware, is not unfamiliar to tactics of aggressive mimicry. It is a discomforting thought.

Still, soft, frail, and human-shaped, he looks as though he could be any one of Bruce's, Clark's, or possibly even Diana's children. The human-looking boy yawns, jaw cracking, arms stretching in the air. He slides off of the bed given to him, bare-footed. He pads over to the door with blanket still gripped in his fist. His eyes are half-lidded.

He still is, as far as Bruce can tell, mostly asleep.

Bruce debates with himself; what is better, that the boy knows that he is a prisoner, or that he is free to wander the Watchtower unheeded?

...Well, one of those issues, Bruce can fix. He clicks on the loudspeaker to the base. "Attention. The slumbering entity brought through to our reality yesterday at 1900 UTC is about to leave their temporary accommodations in the barracks. Do not engage unless you are conventionally invulnerable, or have permission from an upper member. Do not speak to them. Do not pass through the barracks until further announcements have been given."

Batman sweeps out of the monitor room without further notice to anyone. The boy had already reacted positively to his presence; the likelihood that further contact would put Bruce in danger is high, but not more than usual.

"Superman. With me."

Speaking to no one, as usual, feels performative— but Clark shoots him a thumbs up emoji on his communicator almost immediately. The image was followed up with a promise to meet him outside the barracks instead.

Fine. Bruce stalks off to find the boy, before any new supernatural incidents befall the Watchtower yet again.

Bruce clicks the door to one of the smaller kitchenettes. It slides open. Inside, Superman and the entity are nibbling on off-brand toaster pastries. Only Clark deigns to notice Bruce's entrance.

"There we are," Clark coaxes, taking the thing out of his mouth. It has been painted with pink frosting. The flavor is strawberry: an inferior flavor. "Get some calories in you. And look; here's my friend! He'll be able to help us out, so why don't you tell him your...problem?"

The boy keeps nibbling. His gaze doesn't shift. He looks dull, lifeless— until Clark gently nudges him, and he finally notices Batman in the room with him.

"I'm lost," the boy says, in a half-whisper. He's mumbling through his pop-tart. "Dad says you can help...?"

Clark winces, and Bruce would want to do the same in his position. None of them have ever asked royally supernatural entities to imprint on them, and yet now Bruce has a starfish for a son.

(Not that— not that Bruce begrudges Jarro's presence in his life. Jarro is an excellent, well-behaved child. Usually.)

"Of course." And Batman will help, of course. The faster they solve this new set of circumstances, the faster this boy will go back to whatever realm he came from, and leave Earth safe and sound. "What do you remember before you woke up here...?"

[faeriekit]

:)

[nanenna]

wait, no! I just realized there wasn't enough sleepy Danny in the other version I wrote. So take this instead (if you want, I'm not your dad).

---

The boy keeps sleepily nibbling on his breakfast pastry as his brows furrow in concentration. It's a familiar look, one Batman has seen on all his children's faces the morning after a particularly grueling patrol, when they clearly haven't gotten enough sleep and yet still have to get up for school.

"I finished my homework and went to bed…" the boy eventually says.

Bruce just hums in acknowledgment, it seems this tyrant king is familiar enough with modern American culture to say something like homework despite supposedly being in a slumber for centuries. The boy blinks, brows even more furrowed, he can almost see the gears slowly turning in the boy's head. It's very convincing.

"Dad, what time is it?" the boy asks.

Clark flinches again, but covers it with a bright smile. "In what time zone?"

The boy frowns even more somehow, his whole face covered in faint wrinkles. He's looking up at Clark through squinted eyes, there's practically smoke pouring from his ears.

“It’s the weekend, don’t worry about school,” Batman cuts in before the boy can think on it any more. There’s no knowing what will happen when the entity finishes waking up.

The boy turns his bleary eyed, squinting gaze on Batman. “It is?”

“That’s right,” Clark agrees readily. “In fact, it’s a three day weekend.” Today is actually Friday, so that’s a pretty good cover. Clark lifts the drooping pastry back to the boy’s mouth, he absently takes a bite as he mulls over the new information.

“Mr. Lancer said I’d fail math if I missed another test.”

Batman and Clark look at each other over the boy’s head, what an odd thing for a powerful immortal tyrant king to worry over. Either he was a very good actor, or something more was going on here.

“Well then, we’ll have to make sure you get to school on time on Monday, but right now it’s the weekend.”

“Weekend,” the boy mumbles sleepily before yawning wide, his hand half up in a pale imitation of politely covering his mouth. It’s no where near close enough to hide the sharp fangs in the boy’s mouth.

“You clearly need more sleep,” Batman says. With his half asleep state he almost wonders why the boy woke up at all.

“Clearly,” Clark agrees readily. “How about we get you back to bed?”

“But…” the boy’s brows furrow as he tries to concentrate, “what about… I’m lost?”

“It’s alright,” Clark reassures as he guides the boy to stand up. “We’ll still be here when you wake back up, you’re obviously too tired to deal with this right now anyway.”

“Dad?” The boy asks as he allows Clark to herd him back towards the room he’d been put in.

“It’s alright, it’s the weekend, remember? And growing boys need their sleep.”

“Gonna be tall as you someday,” the boy mumbles as he shuffles back to his borrowed room. Once there Clark sets about tucking the boy back in, Batman watching from the doorway. The boy seems to drift off quickly once he’s tucked back in, still clinging to his chosen blanket (Batman’s cape) rather than sleeping under it. Batman tries not to think about the implications.

Clark gives the boy’s hair one last pet and a whispered “Good night,” before leaving, floating out the door so he wouldn’t make a sound. They both quickly move down the hallway before saying a word.

“Oracle, did you get that?”

“There are a lot of schools, and Lancer is a pretty common last name.”

Batman sighs, he knew that would be the answer.

“What do you suspect?” Clark asks as they re-enter the kitchenette, Clark already tidying after himself.

“Would you expect an undead all powerful tyrant king from another dimension to worry about passing math class or finishing homework?”

Clark paused and winces, “I suppose not. But he is the king.”

“He is,” Batman agrees, “I just worry he may also be a boy who was used in a ritual against his will. We only arrived at the end, we don’t know if a host or sacrifice was placed in that circle.”

Clark sighs as his shoulders droop, “I was afraid you would say that. If that’s what’s going on it complicates things.”

“Hn,” Batman agrees.

“Any word from Constantine? Surely he’s done inspecting the remains of the ritual by now.”

“He’s still searching for a containment device for the king.”

“Found one, actually.” Constantine walks into the room, tossing what appears to be a travel mug up in the air and catching it.

Clark frowns, “Did you stop for coffee on the way?”

“Nah, mate, this is a ghost containment device guaranteed to hold even the ghost king.” He holds the mug up and points to a button on it, “Just take off the cap, point, and click.”

“We may have an issue, I believe the ghost king has been summoned into a host,” Batman says before they can get too far.

Constantine curses, “Of course, why would the bloody cultists make this easy for us?”

“I think I found him,” Oracle says over the comm.

Batman brings up his holographic wrist computer and holds it up so Clark and Constantine can also see. He switches Oracle to speaker, “Go ahead.”

A picture of a middle aged, balding man appears on the screen. “Mr. Ron Lancer, vice principal and teacher at Casper High School, Amity Park, Illinois. He teaches several subjects, including math. Of note is one of his students,” the picture changes to show a very familiar teenage boy, “one Mr. Daniel Fenton, who’s in danger of failing most of his classes. School started fifteen minutes ago and he is currently marked as an unexcused absence.”

Constantine whistles, “Sure picked him, looks like he could right blend in with any of your lot. Either lot.”

“Also, worth noting Daniel’s father, Jack Fenton.” The images changes to a family photo, including a large man who one might mistake for Clark if half asleep.

Clark sighs in relief, “So he just mistook me for his father.”

“But that leaves us with a problem, how do we remove the ghost king from the boy without harming him?”

The other two quiet at Batman’s question, both Clark and Batman looking to Constantine for the answer. “Right, let me get a look at the kid first. See what I’m working with.”

Batman simply stalks off, trusting the other two to follow him. He quietly open’s the door to the boy’s, Daniel’s, room and peeks in. Daniel snorts, but doesn’t seem to wake. Batman motions for Constantine to head in while Batman and Clark wait out in the hall, hovering in the doorway.

Constantine stops in the middle of the room, hand held out to make some kind of sign as he looks down at the sleeping boy. “Well, that’s interesting.”

[ailithnight]

Ooh!

Wonder what Constantine sees now that he didn't see at the summoning site.

Also, Batman better already be planning to get Danny's absence excused. They cannot let the boy fail math because he got kidnapped.

[nanenna]

So I ended it there last time because this could go in several directions (Danny wakes up and sees the thermos, danny wakes up thinks it’s all a dream and sleepily rambles secrets, danny doesn’t wake up but something else happens, etc). I'm choosing this one, but if you wanna take it in another direction feel free.

---

Daniel's face scrunches up and he makes a kind of groaning sound. John quickly backs up, motioning Clark forward. Knowing this boy simply mistook him for his actual father rather than some kind of interdimensional cosmic horror imprinting on Clark makes this both easier and harder.

“Uuuugh, what stinks?”

“I'm not sure what you mean, son.”

“Danny,” Bruce whispers softly.

“Smells like rotten eggs,” Danny mumbles sleepily, already falling back asleep with John out of the room.

“We were just cleaning out the fridge, go back to sleep.”

“Did the hotdogs start a war again?” Danny slurs. At least that's what Clark thinks the boy said. He pays it no mind as Danny's breathing evens out, sometimes dreams are just weird like that.

Clark carefully tucks Danny back in, then just as carefully leaves the room as quietly as possible. They can't risk letting the boy wake up, not until John finds a way to do something about the king.

They all move back to the kitchenette, where John tucks the travel mug out of sight in one of his deep pockets.

“You're not gonna like this,” John starts with a tired sigh. He's already tucking a cigarette, unlit, into his lips. He's also fiddling with a lighter, though they all know he knows better than to actually use it.

“Tell us,” Bruce demands, the lenses of his cowl narrowed to mere slits.

“That kid is dead as a doornail.”

Clark closes his eyes in grief, they really were too late. He listens to the slow, steady heart beat just a few rooms over, knowing that even though the body is clearly still alive that’s not what John is talking about.

“He's also fully hale and alive. My guess is the ritual killed him and the ghost king possessing him is keeping him alive. Won't know for sure without a closer look.”

Bruce frowns, “But?”

“But the kid being asleep might be the only thing keeping Pariah Dark asleep, since he was pulled straight from the Sarcophagus of Eternal Slumber. And I can't risk getting a better read without waking him up again.”

“Rotten eggs,” Clark says. “He said he smelled rotten eggs.”

“Sulfur,” Bruce adds. Not that he needs to, they all know what that means.

John nods, “He can smell the demon on me. Best if I don't get close, we can call up others to come look at him though.”

“There's only so long he'll sleep,” Bruce says ominously. “Even teenagers only sleep so long, at most maybe two hours.”

“Problem is the kid's some kinda undead now,” John replies. “No knowing how he'll react to tranqs or sleep spells. Could put him out, could do nothing and us making a fuss would wake him, could put the kid to sleep and wake up Pariah.”

Clark sighs, “So in short, we're on an unknown time crunch to figure out how to safely remove the ghost king from this boy without waking either of them up and without killing the boy in the process.”

“Got it in one, mate.”

“There’s a further complication,” Bruce says. Likely he’s about to share some of the information Oracle has been feeding him off and on this whole time, just quiet enough that Clark would have to concentrate to listen in, but he’d rather concentrate on the soft breathing of the boy just down the hall. They can’t afford to be surprised by his waking. “Amity Park advertises itself as the most haunted town in America.”

“It don’t take being the world’s greatest detective to connect being haunted with the king of all ghosts.” John sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “Alright, plan?”

Clark looks to Bruce, he is their best strategist after all.

“Constantine, contact whoever you can. Superman, keep an eye on Danny. I’ll put together a quick presentation covering all the most important information Oracle is currently digging up, it seems the cult chose Danny as the ghost king’s host very carefully.”

“Right. Great. Wonderful. Splendiferous.” John sighs one last time, “Alright, I’m going to get as far away from the poor sod as I can and get on calling in back up.” John leaves without another word.

Before Bruce can leave, Clark turns to him and asks, "Do we tell his parents?"

Bruce breaths a little heavier, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly, the closest he'll allow himself to showing emotion while in the cowl. "What can we tell them at this point?"

[ihasafandom]

Burst out in wheezing laughter at "at most maybe two hours" cause I mistook it as "even teenagers only sleep at out two hours" and that is such a freaking hilarious thing for a vigilante with what is presumably the world's most messed up sleep schedule to say

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[faeriekit]

When he wakes, the boy is human. Dark haired. Blue-eyed.

...Bruce has a sneaking suspicion that this tyrant, whether consciously or unaware, is not unfamiliar to tactics of aggressive mimicry. It is a discomforting thought.

Still, soft, frail, and human-shaped, he looks as though he could be any one of Bruce's, Clark's, or possibly even Diana's children. The human-looking boy yawns, jaw cracking, arms stretching in the air. He slides off of the bed given to him, bare-footed. He pads over to the door with blanket still gripped in his fist. His eyes are half-lidded.

He still is, as far as Bruce can tell, mostly asleep.

Bruce debates with himself; what is better, that the boy knows that he is a prisoner, or that he is free to wander the Watchtower unheeded?

...Well, one of those issues, Bruce can fix. He clicks on the loudspeaker to the base. "Attention. The slumbering entity brought through to our reality yesterday at 1900 UTC is about to leave their temporary accommodations in the barracks. Do not engage unless you are conventionally invulnerable, or have permission from an upper member. Do not speak to them. Do not pass through the barracks until further announcements have been given."

Batman sweeps out of the monitor room without further notice to anyone. The boy had already reacted positively to his presence; the likelihood that further contact would put Bruce in danger is high, but not more than usual.

"Superman. With me."

Speaking to no one, as usual, feels performative— but Clark shoots him a thumbs up emoji on his communicator almost immediately. The image was followed up with a promise to meet him outside the barracks instead.

Fine. Bruce stalks off to find the boy, before any new supernatural incidents befall the Watchtower yet again.

Bruce clicks the door to one of the smaller kitchenettes. It slides open. Inside, Superman and the entity are nibbling on off-brand toaster pastries. Only Clark deigns to notice Bruce's entrance.

"There we are," Clark coaxes, taking the thing out of his mouth. It has been painted with pink frosting. The flavor is strawberry: an inferior flavor. "Get some calories in you. And look; here's my friend! He'll be able to help us out, so why don't you tell him your...problem?"

The boy keeps nibbling. His gaze doesn't shift. He looks dull, lifeless— until Clark gently nudges him, and he finally notices Batman in the room with him.

"I'm lost," the boy says, in a half-whisper. He's mumbling through his pop-tart. "Dad says you can help...?"

Clark winces, and Bruce would want to do the same in his position. None of them have ever asked royally supernatural entities to imprint on them, and yet now Bruce has a starfish for a son.

(Not that— not that Bruce begrudges Jarro's presence in his life. Jarro is an excellent, well-behaved child. Usually.)

"Of course." And Batman will help, of course. The faster they solve this new set of circumstances, the faster this boy will go back to whatever realm he came from, and leave Earth safe and sound. "What do you remember before you woke up here...?"

[faeriekit]

:)

[nanenna]

wait, no! I just realized there wasn't enough sleepy Danny in the other version I wrote. So take this instead (if you want, I'm not your dad).

---

The boy keeps sleepily nibbling on his breakfast pastry as his brows furrow in concentration. It's a familiar look, one Batman has seen on all his children's faces the morning after a particularly grueling patrol, when they clearly haven't gotten enough sleep and yet still have to get up for school.

"I finished my homework and went to bed…" the boy eventually says.

Bruce just hums in acknowledgment, it seems this tyrant king is familiar enough with modern American culture to say something like homework despite supposedly being in a slumber for centuries. The boy blinks, brows even more furrowed, he can almost see the gears slowly turning in the boy's head. It's very convincing.

"Dad, what time is it?" the boy asks.

Clark flinches again, but covers it with a bright smile. "In what time zone?"

The boy frowns even more somehow, his whole face covered in faint wrinkles. He's looking up at Clark through squinted eyes, there's practically smoke pouring from his ears.

“It’s the weekend, don’t worry about school,” Batman cuts in before the boy can think on it any more. There’s no knowing what will happen when the entity finishes waking up.

The boy turns his bleary eyed, squinting gaze on Batman. “It is?”

“That’s right,” Clark agrees readily. “In fact, it’s a three day weekend.” Today is actually Friday, so that’s a pretty good cover. Clark lifts the drooping pastry back to the boy’s mouth, he absently takes a bite as he mulls over the new information.

“Mr. Lancer said I’d fail math if I missed another test.”

Batman and Clark look at each other over the boy’s head, what an odd thing for a powerful immortal tyrant king to worry over. Either he was a very good actor, or something more was going on here.

“Well then, we’ll have to make sure you get to school on time on Monday, but right now it’s the weekend.”

“Weekend,” the boy mumbles sleepily before yawning wide, his hand half up in a pale imitation of politely covering his mouth. It’s no where near close enough to hide the sharp fangs in the boy’s mouth.

“You clearly need more sleep,” Batman says. With his half asleep state he almost wonders why the boy woke up at all.

“Clearly,” Clark agrees readily. “How about we get you back to bed?”

“But…” the boy’s brows furrow as he tries to concentrate, “what about… I’m lost?”

“It’s alright,” Clark reassures as he guides the boy to stand up. “We’ll still be here when you wake back up, you’re obviously too tired to deal with this right now anyway.”

“Dad?” The boy asks as he allows Clark to herd him back towards the room he’d been put in.

“It’s alright, it’s the weekend, remember? And growing boys need their sleep.”

“Gonna be tall as you someday,” the boy mumbles as he shuffles back to his borrowed room. Once there Clark sets about tucking the boy back in, Batman watching from the doorway. The boy seems to drift off quickly once he’s tucked back in, still clinging to his chosen blanket (Batman’s cape) rather than sleeping under it. Batman tries not to think about the implications.

Clark gives the boy’s hair one last pet and a whispered “Good night,” before leaving, floating out the door so he wouldn’t make a sound. They both quickly move down the hallway before saying a word.

“Oracle, did you get that?”

“There are a lot of schools, and Lancer is a pretty common last name.”

Batman sighs, he knew that would be the answer.

“What do you suspect?” Clark asks as they re-enter the kitchenette, Clark already tidying after himself.

“Would you expect an undead all powerful tyrant king from another dimension to worry about passing math class or finishing homework?”

Clark paused and winces, “I suppose not. But he is the king.”

“He is,” Batman agrees, “I just worry he may also be a boy who was used in a ritual against his will. We only arrived at the end, we don’t know if a host or sacrifice was placed in that circle.”

Clark sighs as his shoulders droop, “I was afraid you would say that. If that’s what’s going on it complicates things.”

“Hn,” Batman agrees.

“Any word from Constantine? Surely he’s done inspecting the remains of the ritual by now.”

“He’s still searching for a containment device for the king.”

“Found one, actually.” Constantine walks into the room, tossing what appears to be a travel mug up in the air and catching it.

Clark frowns, “Did you stop for coffee on the way?”

“Nah, mate, this is a ghost containment device guaranteed to hold even the ghost king.” He holds the mug up and points to a button on it, “Just take off the cap, point, and click.”

“We may have an issue, I believe the ghost king has been summoned into a host,” Batman says before they can get too far.

Constantine curses, “Of course, why would the bloody cultists make this easy for us?”

“I think I found him,” Oracle says over the comm.

Batman brings up his holographic wrist computer and holds it up so Clark and Constantine can also see. He switches Oracle to speaker, “Go ahead.”

A picture of a middle aged, balding man appears on the screen. “Mr. Ron Lancer, vice principal and teacher at Casper High School, Amity Park, Illinois. He teaches several subjects, including math. Of note is one of his students,” the picture changes to show a very familiar teenage boy, “one Mr. Daniel Fenton, who’s in danger of failing most of his classes. School started fifteen minutes ago and he is currently marked as an unexcused absence.”

Constantine whistles, “Sure picked him, looks like he could right blend in with any of your lot. Either lot.”

“Also, worth noting Daniel’s father, Jack Fenton.” The images changes to a family photo, including a large man who one might mistake for Clark if half asleep.

Clark sighs in relief, “So he just mistook me for his father.”

“But that leaves us with a problem, how do we remove the ghost king from the boy without harming him?”

The other two quiet at Batman’s question, both Clark and Batman looking to Constantine for the answer. “Right, let me get a look at the kid first. See what I’m working with.”

Batman simply stalks off, trusting the other two to follow him. He quietly open’s the door to the boy’s, Daniel’s, room and peeks in. Daniel snorts, but doesn’t seem to wake. Batman motions for Constantine to head in while Batman and Clark wait out in the hall, hovering in the doorway.

Constantine stops in the middle of the room, hand held out to make some kind of sign as he looks down at the sleeping boy. “Well, that’s interesting.”

[ailithnight]

Ooh!

Wonder what Constantine sees now that he didn't see at the summoning site.

Also, Batman better already be planning to get Danny's absence excused. They cannot let the boy fail math because he got kidnapped.

[nanenna]

So I ended it there last time because this could go in several directions (Danny wakes up and sees the thermos, danny wakes up thinks it’s all a dream and sleepily rambles secrets, danny doesn’t wake up but something else happens, etc). I'm choosing this one, but if you wanna take it in another direction feel free.

---

Daniel's face scrunches up and he makes a kind of groaning sound. John quickly backs up, motioning Clark forward. Knowing this boy simply mistook him for his actual father rather than some kind of interdimensional cosmic horror imprinting on Clark makes this both easier and harder.

“Uuuugh, what stinks?”

“I'm not sure what you mean, son.”

“Danny,” Bruce whispers softly.

“Smells like rotten eggs,” Danny mumbles sleepily, already falling back asleep with John out of the room.

“We were just cleaning out the fridge, go back to sleep.”

“Did the hotdogs start a war again?” Danny slurs. At least that's what Clark thinks the boy said. He pays it no mind as Danny's breathing evens out, sometimes dreams are just weird like that.

Clark carefully tucks Danny back in, then just as carefully leaves the room as quietly as possible. They can't risk letting the boy wake up, not until John finds a way to do something about the king.

They all move back to the kitchenette, where John tucks the travel mug out of sight in one of his deep pockets.

“You're not gonna like this,” John starts with a tired sigh. He's already tucking a cigarette, unlit, into his lips. He's also fiddling with a lighter, though they all know he knows better than to actually use it.

“Tell us,” Bruce demands, the lenses of his cowl narrowed to mere slits.

“That kid is dead as a doornail.”

Clark closes his eyes in grief, they really were too late. He listens to the slow, steady heart beat just a few rooms over, knowing that even though the body is clearly still alive that’s not what John is talking about.

“He's also fully hale and alive. My guess is the ritual killed him and the ghost king possessing him is keeping him alive. Won't know for sure without a closer look.”

Bruce frowns, “But?”

“But the kid being asleep might be the only thing keeping Pariah Dark asleep, since he was pulled straight from the Sarcophagus of Eternal Slumber. And I can't risk getting a better read without waking him up again.”

“Rotten eggs,” Clark says. “He said he smelled rotten eggs.”

“Sulfur,” Bruce adds. Not that he needs to, they all know what that means.

John nods, “He can smell the demon on me. Best if I don't get close, we can call up others to come look at him though.”

“There's only so long he'll sleep,” Bruce says ominously. “Even teenagers only sleep so long, at most maybe two hours.”

“Problem is the kid's some kinda undead now,” John replies. “No knowing how he'll react to tranqs or sleep spells. Could put him out, could do nothing and us making a fuss would wake him, could put the kid to sleep and wake up Pariah.”

Clark sighs, “So in short, we're on an unknown time crunch to figure out how to safely remove the ghost king from this boy without waking either of them up and without killing the boy in the process.”

“Got it in one, mate.”

“There’s a further complication,” Bruce says. Likely he’s about to share some of the information Oracle has been feeding him off and on this whole time, just quiet enough that Clark would have to concentrate to listen in, but he’d rather concentrate on the soft breathing of the boy just down the hall. They can’t afford to be surprised by his waking. “Amity Park advertises itself as the most haunted town in America.”

“It don’t take being the world’s greatest detective to connect being haunted with the king of all ghosts.” John sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “Alright, plan?”

Clark looks to Bruce, he is their best strategist after all.

“Constantine, contact whoever you can. Superman, keep an eye on Danny. I’ll put together a quick presentation covering all the most important information Oracle is currently digging up, it seems the cult chose Danny as the ghost king’s host very carefully.”

“Right. Great. Wonderful. Splendiferous.” John sighs one last time, “Alright, I’m going to get as far away from the poor sod as I can and get on calling in back up.” John leaves without another word.

Before Bruce can leave, Clark turns to him and asks, "Do we tell his parents?"

Bruce breaths a little heavier, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly, the closest he'll allow himself to showing emotion while in the cowl. "What can we tell them at this point?"

[nanenna]

Jack and Maddie were just heading upstairs for a snack break when the house phone rang. Maddie slotted herself in against the wall while Jack started digging through the fridge. “Fentonworks, Doctor Madeleine Fenton speaking.”

“Hello! This is Superman, with the Justice League. I have news about your son.”

“The Justice League? Well that’s just wonderful! Jack, honey, it’s the Justice League, the want to talk about Danny!”

“The Justice League? About time they finally noticed all of Danno’s hard work! He’s real hero material!”

Maddie hushed her husband, they weren’t allowed to talk about him being Phantom unless the other party already knew. It was hard, they were so proud of how their son had stepped up to defend the town, and open up entire new horizons in ghost studies to them! And their new daughter too! “What did you want to talk about Danny, exactly?”

“Well the good news is he’s safe, we rescued him from his kidnappers.”

“Kidnappers?” Maddie blinked, completely confused. “Honey, did something happen to Danny? The Justice League says he was kidnapped. Isn’t he at school?”

“Let’s go check the Ghost Logs!” Jack thundered back down the stairs to the lab.

Maddie did a quick check on the phone before following him down, thank the ancients for cordless handsets. “Jack, dear, there aren’t any missed calls.

“I assure you, ma’am, your son is here with us. He’s currently asleep.”

“Well that’s just odd, the school should’ve called us! I’m going to have to have a word with the principal after this!”

“There were a few spikes last night,” Jack said while scrolling through the ghost log. “Looks like we had an incursion last night that good ol’ Danno took care of, but there was another spike less than an hour after he got back, nothing since.”

“Alright, honey, now let me just put this on speaker so we can both talk to Mr. Superman at the same time.”

“Wonderful idea, fudgecakes.”

Maddie did just that, setting the handset down so they could be near it. “Now, tell us exactly what’s going on, please.”

“Right,” Superman sounded a bit nervous. “Last night we apprehended a cult summoning the Ghost King, but unfortunately we weren’t in time to stop the ritual. Your son was there, we believe the cult was using him either as a sacrifice or a host for the Ghost King, and even more unfortunately it looks like it worked.”

“I’m sorry, you think the Ghost King is overshadowing Danny?” Maddie asked skeptically.

“Overshadowing?” Superman asked in confusion before slowly stated, “Yes… we believe the Ghost King is… overshadowing Danny.”

“Well that just doesn’t make sense,” Maddie said emphatically. “The Ghost King is currently locked up in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”

“I… how did you know that?” Superman asked.

“Everyone in Amity knows that,” Maddie said matter of factly. “And not only that, I doubt Danny’s actually being overshadowed.”

“He’s really good at getting ghosts out of overshadowed people,” Jack said proudly. “Doesn’t even need the gauntlets!”

“Where are you?” Maddie plowed on, “We have some tools we can bring just to be safe. Jack, be a dear and go get the Fenton Ecto Detecto and that Specter Deflector Danny modified.”

Superman sputtered, “You can’t just-”

“And why not?” Maddie asked, an edge of steel in her voice. “Right now it sounds like you’re holding our minor son without his parents present to advocate for him. Not to mention this sounds like a ghost situation and we happen to be ghost experts. Now, where is our son?” Maddie asked that last question oh so sweetly.

Superman gulped, “I’ll send someone to come escort you.”

-_-_-

Jack and Maddie strode confidently through the halls of the Justice League base. They hadn’t been told which base it was or where, but that hardly mattered if their son was on it. A man in a dirty trenchcoat that reeked of cigarette smoke met them halfway there.

“Did you tell them everything?” he asked Batman, who had been escorting them since they arrived through that fascinating teleporter.

“Ask Superman,” Batman replied.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Maddie asked, not bothering to slow down to address this stranger.

“Name’s Constantine, occult consultant.” He looked the pair of scientists up and down, he had the same expression many people had right before calling them quacks. Well, the feeling was mutual, Maddie had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes and scoffing. Occultist indeed.

“Superman said some cult was trying to summon the Ghost King and Danny is involved somehow.”

“Not trying, they actually did it. So far as we can tell your son was used as his anchor, right now we’re trying to figure out how to get the tyrant out without killing him.”

Maddie suspected something, but she would keep her peace until they had more proof.

“Since the tyrant was summoned right out of the Sarcophagus of Eternal Slumber-”

Maddie did roll her eyes at that.

“... we think he’s asleep and hasn’t realized he’s out yet. So long as your son stays asleep it’s likely to stay that way. Hopefully we can get the king out soon.”

“Oh, if Danny is being overshadowed we have our ways.” She doubted it, Danny had said any ghost that tried to overshadow him only ever managed a few minutes at most. He seemed to think his will was too strong, but she suspected it had more to do with his body already being possessed by his own ghost. Not that she would test that theory, not even if there were actually a way to do it.

“That’s right,” Jack agreed eagerly. “We brought up the Specter Deflector Mark II! If Danny is being overshadowed we just put this on and that nasty ghost will be spit right out!”

“Not all ghosts are nasty,” Maddie reminded Jack absently.

“Of course, sweetie! But this is the Ghost King, we already know he’s nasty.”

“How do you know that?” Constantine asked.

Maddie ignored him as she walked through the door Batman had just opened. Inside was a dim bedroom with all the personality of a hotel room. She pulled out the Fenton Ecto Detecto and activated it. After a brief scan, the screen lit up with the results. Maddie leaned over and held the device so Jack could lean down and read it with her.

“Hmmm…” Jack said softly, “these readings seem within Danno’s norms.”

Maddie nodded along, “If there were another ghost the readings should be higher, even if they were hiding inside him somehow.”

“What do you mean another ghost?” Superman, who had joined their group just outside the bedroom, asked with a furrowed brow.

Maddie ignored him, “Should we try the belt or just wake him up?”

“Wake him up, of course! Danny, you’re late for school.”

“Huh, what?” Danny snorted awake, then looked around blearily.

Maddie reached over and flipped on the light, “You’re late for school, you already missed first period.”

Danny scrambled out of bed, “Shit! I didn’t finish that essay either! Kitty and Johnny had another fight and I had… to… where are we?” Danny stopped and spun around, taking in the room. Then he looked towards the door and slunk over to Maddie’s side.

She gently pat Danny on the head as he tried to hide behind her despite being the same height as her now. He was growing up so fast! “It’s alright, honey, the Justice League says you got kidnapped by a cult? And they rescued you?”

Danny looked over at Jack, to the doorway, then back to Maddie. “A cult?”

Maddie looked back to the doorway, where Batman and Superman were both staring intently at that Constantine fellow. “He… you… but we saw… what?”

“Perhaps the summoning failed when you broke the cult’s circle?” Maddie asked oh so sweetly. “Those things are notoriously unstable.”

“Unstable?!” Constantine asked, clearly offended.

Batman frowned, “It is possible the Ghost King lost his link to the mortal world when Danny fell back asleep after we broke the circle.”

Constantine groaned, “Yes, that’s true. But! That doesn’t explain him being dead.”

Danny flinched, Maddie held him closer and cooed to her boy while Jack moved to stand between them and the doorway. “Now listen here!”

“Danny had a near death experience a year ago,” Maddie cut in before Jack could get any more steam going. “We didn’t find out about it until recently because Danny and his friends covered it up, believing they’d get in trouble.” She did an exaggerated eye roll, “Teenagers!”

“We’re just glad our Danno is doing better now.” Jack ruffled Danny’s hair affectionately.

When Danny smiled and practically purred under the affection Maddie couldn’t help feeling a stab of guilt, a whole year and a half of Danny hiding everything from them because he was just a scared kid with too much responsibility thrown at him. Well things were getting better now, she hoped this nonsense wouldn’t interrupt that.

“Well, now that that misunderstanding is out of the way, I think it’s time we took our son home, he’s clearly just been through a traumatic event.”

Danny groaned, “I think it’s already too late for that math test, Mr. Lancer said he’ll fail me.”

“Don’t worry, Danny-boy!” Jack ruffled Danny’s hair once more, “We’ll call in and excuse your absence, it’s not your fault you got kidnapped in the middle of the night by some wacko cultists!”

“I’m sure someone from the Justice League will be happy to vouch for you as well,” Maddie said while glaring at the three men still standing in the doorway.

“Of course,” Batman said gruffly. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll go talk to Danny’s school personally.”

“There, see? And now you’ll have the rest of today to finish that essay and any other homework you have. I’m sure one of your friends will be by later with any other assignments you missed.”

Danny sighed, but let himself be guided out of the room by Maddie.

It wasn’t until later, when all three were safely home and Danny had had a chance to shower and put on his regular clothes that Maddie finally sat him down to ask the question that had been burning at the back of her mind since that first phone call. “Danny, sweetie, why did the ritual to summon the Ghost King snag you?”

Danny shrugged, “No idea, I didn’t even know I could be summoned.”

Maddie pursed her lips, she didn’t like that her boy could be summoned, occultists had such a slapdash understanding of how things worked. “Do you know anyone who might know what’s going on?”

Danny sheepishly held up the thermos that had been clipped to his pants. “Well, I know two. And if they don’t know I can think of a couple others we can ask.”

Maddie smiled brightly. “Wonderful! Go get your father, I’ll warm up the Specter Speeder and we can head to the Ghost Zone.”

“Okay.” Danny re-attached the thermos and hopped up to go find his dad. Maddie smiled as she watched him go. Then the smile fell as she made her way down into the lab. She really didn’t like the implications of what they’d been told, poor Danny already had shouldered far too much responsibility, she didn’t like the idea of adding a crown to that. But if that was the case they would face it together, as a family.

[thatrandomsarahchick]

Oooh, they find out that Danny is the Ghost King, so Maddy officially challenges him to a duel (it's just their regular weekly spar, but she made it an official challenge). When she wins, she declared herself Ghost Queen. She's liminal enough (and Clockwork thinks this timeline will be highly amusing) that the claim sticks.

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

Jason’s masseur deserves a fucking pay raise.

He has no idea how the fuck the dude gives back massages that quiet the goddam pit but you bet your ass Jason is recommending Danny to anyone who looks like they need a massage.

[britcision]

*clears throat*

Danny is not even a licensed masseuse

He was just out and about in Gotham one day, spied a pit-boy, and the best excuse he could think of was “hey lemme give you a back rub”

Just on a park bench, and boy it took a lot to coax the guy over in the first place, but he melted like a contented cat when Danny got to work

And then asked if he could see Danny again and like, book an appointment

And Danny, fucking idiot, said “yeah sure”, went home, googled how much a massage should cost, having given a massive stranger his cellphone number

But Jason kept asking why Danny didn’t have like, an office for this whole thing

And Danny, still knowing fuck all about actual massage but what he’s picked up online and what felt good when Sam and Tucker were working the tension outta him after a fight, doesn’t wanna just say “well I’m just a guy”

Jason’s got LOADS of nasty ecto problems, and Danny can’t fix that all at once

Hell, weekly sessions barely do more than keep it in check. Extra $100 for an hour long session isn’t bad though, and he’s got a flat couch

And then. One day. There’s a proper massage bed at his door. Like, expensive, padded, nice massage bed with a face hole and everything

(Danny works out it’s a face hole solely from diagrams and is very relieved)

sooooo, now Danny has an under the table massage business

And Jason, sweet guy, must have fucking REFERRED HIM TO A CRIME LORD because now a bunch more people have called him and they’re all billing someone called Red Hood and yeah Danny’s making like, a grand a month just on that and they all have some ecto taint

(probably from working with Jason, who probably also works for this crime lord, and Danny’s now really wondering who tf Red Hood is and what the fuck he’s doing to his people

might have to go kick his ass about it)

But uh… well, Danny’s good with his hands, Sam’s sent him some online courses, and he’s learned a lot from videos

It’s just fucking typical that now that he’s on a crime lord’s payroll a goddamn vigilante with the most visibly knotted muscles Danny’s ever seen has rolled up to his door and gasped that they heard he’s good at relieving tension

Danny bites down his usual joke about “well the hole’s for your face” (he never knew so why should they) and just…. Does his best

[darkmodepls]

The vigilante on his table is actually Nightwing.

The entire time, Danny keeps a steady dialog about the importance of self care and moderating responsibilities. He recommends talking to a therapist and how his sister is in school to become a Psychiatrist and and will be graduating soon.

Nightwing pays him double, only because Danny refused the $500 tip he offered so this was the compromise.

This is the most relaxed Dick has felt in over a decade. He’s so loose right now that some of the goons speculate he's actually Plastic Man pretending to be Nightwing.

Jason threatens to shoot him if he poaches his masseuse, but the sister is fair game.

Fresh out of Medschool, Jasmine Nightingale receives a very lucrative offer from Wayne Enterprises.

[hdgnj]

Danny manages to save up enough over a few months to actually pay for classes properly and get the paperwork. Which means his nice home office thing? Becomes a legit (ish) business.

Meanwhile? Jazz is living her dreams as the better psych for the goddamn Justice League!!!! Danny what the fuck?! Danny just like "I dunno. Red Hood recommend me. And I recommend you?"

[puzzle-queenredux]

Guys. My husband (A MASSAGE THERAPIST) is taking over my body from 50 miles away so that I can tell you that it's MASSAGE THERAPIST! and it's call a massage TABLE. please I can hear the rant in my head.

[yourcraftycreatorstudentblr]

It's the same with me only with my mother.

[absolutely-esme]

Danny discretely scrambles to become a licensed massage therapist before anyone looks too closely because one of Batman's affiliates has now been made aware of his existence.  Apparently there are proper terms for things?  Shit, has he already blown his cover by not knowing the vocabulary?  (He has not.  Nightwing is not an expert on massage and didn't even bother to question his credentials between Jason having already deemed him legit and the results speaking for themselves.)

On another note, Danny learns a lot while speedrunning the training/certification process.  (Did he go overboard and learn physical therapy too? Maybe.)  Combining actual knowledge with his natural talent and whatever elements of his ghost powers are relevant brings his skills up to god-mode level.

What's that, slightly liminal dude from the Red Hood gang?  You haven't been quite right after an injury even though it healed up fine and shouldn't be giving you trouble?  Well let's take a look.  Ah, yes, Danny sees what's happening there.  Stimulate these muscles and nerves like this, clean up the ecto and offer it some gentle guidance (thank you Frostbite, for teaching him the basics), and walk the guy through some exercises to help the affected area relearn normal operating procedures.

All of a sudden the older thugs in Hood's gang are practically back in their prime.  Turns out, a lot of what we associate with age is actually the accumulated effects of poor self care.  It's not that time makes you frail, it's that twenty-somethings haven't had time to fuck themselves up too badly.

Between Hood setting up safety nets to make sure everyone has access to adequate nutrition and medical treatment, the physical and psychological benefits of massage, and being cleansed regularly of the bad juju from the Lazarus pit and the various curses on the city, these guys have a new lease on life.

Danny is beginning to think there should be classes on the ghostly/liminal health and hygiene stuff that works differently than for people who haven't had close brushes with death.  It's just too bad the Anti Ecto Acts would make it so dangerous.  Maybe one of the Bats overhears him talking about this on a video call with Sam and Tucker.  

Maybe Damian was spying on him because the idea of massage fixing pit rage was suspicious to him.  Surely they would already know.  Maybe Hood just arrived a little early for a session and didn't want to interrupt, then heard something concerning.

Either way, the Red Hood gang is now hosting underground health classes for the undead and death touched (and possibly also making plans for the GIW).  Danny calls Frostbite for help putting a lesson plan together.  

Solomon Grundy is suddenly more functional than he's ever been before and has become a valued member of the Crime Alley community.  (Your choice whether he joins the Red Hood gang or just settles down as a civilian)

As everyone's ghostly health improves, Crime Alley begins to gradually take on qualities of a healthy shared haunt.  Some weirdness occurs, but it's not bad.  Structures become sturdier and easier to repair.  Conflict between residents has lost any edge of genuine hostility and taken on an undercurrent of solidarity.  Residents find themselves able to sense when a neighbor needs help/support as well as parse the intent behind assistance offered.  

Crime alley was always a tight-knit community, but this strange understanding trust in each other is new.  Gotham's various curses begin to lose their hold on Crime Alley like an infection being cleared out by an immune system.

Batman:  *looks at Crime Alley* What the heck is going on over there?

[lolottes]

initial objective danny: I will try to eliminate the bad energy of this random guy

what he did: remove negative energy from a fragment of the city

[absolutely-esme]

Due to being free of curses, Crime Alley now has a totally different vibe from the rest of Gotham. Sunlight breaks through the ever-present gloom of the city to shine warmly on this one area like something out of a Renaissance painting. Even at night, the neighborhood just feels nice.

Two face has started taking breaks to just hang out there because it's the one thing that makes his brain stop trying to fistfight itself.

for some reason, Black mask doesn't seem to be able to enter anymore.

[snaileer]

Except Danny can’t really just absorb all this bad ecto, because it’s claimed ecto, it’s from people and has a different ecto signature than his.

So after every session, Danny has to take the ecto that’s been gathering just under the skin of his palms, and collects it in a jar.

Different people, different jars, because claimed ecto doesn’t mix. Their ecto signatures keep them slightly separate, like the different densities of liquids in a jar of olive oil, dish soap, and water.

And that process was all well and good for one person… but now he’s got quite a few clients.

Queue a secret side room fills with shelves and shelves of jars of glowing green ecto, slowly shifting in each jar, pressing against the glass as he passes to the next jar.

Occasionally he’ll head home, taking all the ecto with him in a thermos(they can only store multiple ecto signatures short term), and dumping it in the portal to be cycled and filtered.

What he doesn’t realize?

His eyes glow as he extracts the ecto during the session.

[cupcakedieabetes]

It would be funnier if Danny while being a massage therapist, decides to bullshit the jar by saying that he's collecting their bad juju into the jar and shows the mucky-looking thing he extracted from them.

It would be almost like the egg spell thing that many people do, only that it shows a murky green-looking extract. Gotham is used to all types of things, but Danny, having explained that the bad juju in the jar caused all the negative energy in Gotham collected in them?

They're definitely never going to tell anyone except for those who experienced it because seeing those coming out of them? And the more Danny extracts those 'bad jujus' from them, the better they feel, so for sure, they're not going to tell anyone about them nor about the fact that their therapist is obviously a meta helping extract the bad juju from them.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Field trip.

Some people would call gothamites petty, but given that most of the USA population treated them as scum, they believed that their behavior was justified.

They didn't like tourists, to put it mildly. Therefore, after learning that in their city were people on a field trip from Amity Park who could not leave Gotham for several days due to weekly escape from Arkham, the news channel immediately decided that a short interview from the guests would definitely amuse the locals. The reaction of outsiders never ceases to be ridiculous.

Reporter: ~Good afternoon~ Gotham News! May I ask you to share what you liked most about our wonderful city?

Mr. Lancer*still in a cold sweat and looks at every passerby as a potential villain*: Uh, no, me..It's so unexpected. Well, first of all, people here are very…

Danny *is high after the tasting samples Dr. Crane gave him for free and is extremely eager to share his happiness with others*,* picks a microphone*.

Danny: Gotham is the best city in the world! Like seriously, damn, I'd like to die here. Although there are constant shootings somewhere, half the time people don't even shoot at me! I haven't been this relaxed since middle school! And in the evenings, there is often such a pleasant scent of fear and despair on the streets. This fear toxin of yours is a real miracle! It's sooo good!

Sam *decides to take the initiative in her own hands before Fenton says too much*: Personally, I am very pleased with the number of green spaces you have in your city. It's nice to see that here eco-activists are really being listened to. Also, the fact that most restaurants have a thoughtful menu for vegetarians left a very pleasant impression.

Dash in his favorite T-shirt "it's not gay if he's dead": Four words. Hips of Red Hood. The fact that it is not marked in the guidebook as the main attraction of the Crime Alley is a real crime. This dude clearly never skips leg days. My respect.

Tucker: What can I say? The speed of internet here, even during villains attacks, is absolutely  unbelievable. I don't want to leave this place.

Jazz: I love Gotham! Finally, I was able to buy all the works published by Dr. Harleen Quinzel. *girl picks up an impressive stack of books* For some reason, they are not available online.

The camera points at a red-haired guy with a twitching eye.

Wes: I'm 85% sure Bruce Wayne is Batman. I have a proof and I am ready to provide it.

A girl with a "Good Guess" pin from Riddler enters and takes camera away from conspiracy theorist.

Star: Sorry, he slipped out at night and went to look for problems. Again. Don't pay any attention to him. He's always like this when he drinks more than two energy drinks in a row.

[nightingale-prompts]

It is in the contract- DcxDp prompt

Having pieces of his soul split across so many demons wasn't so bad. At least he knew he was going to hell. But recently all the demons who held those contracts have been...disentagrated.

No only one entity owns his soul. The king of the infinite realms. A major upgrade but probably the worst case scenario.

Now Constantine was at the mercy of the ghost king who had made his presence known.

The first command that echoed in the back of his head was to build an altar to his new master.

"Bring me a burger, please."

That was one of the first odd requests but Constantine tried not to kind hard about this ordeal. Why the hells would the ghost king want a burger? He didn't know. Does he even know what a burger is?

Constantine didn't argue as he went to the nearest diner and came back to place the sandwich on the alter. Immediately the burger dissappeared.

"Pretty good. Not the best I've had but it'll do."

After that once every few weeks the king would request something. It was always something random. The only reason Constantine did it was the easy access to magic and artifacts his new contract gave him.

"Find Vlad Master's car and break his window shield. Then made the inside of his door handles sticky with maple syrup. Then put sugar in his gas tank."

"What kind of problem dae ye hae with this bloke?"

"Don't try distracting me with your funny British words. Just do it and I'll tell you the details later."

[theotherghostgirl]

I like the idea that initially Danny’s just sending John on random errands because it’s better than having him shred his soul further to get scraps of power, but he quickly realizes that having a pet wizard he can send to annoy Vlad is useful

[freshmiraclecheesecake]

So Danny is using John like how Clockwork uses Danny.

[nightingale-prompts]

Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt

Warning: Blood and gore

There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.

Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.

The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.

Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.

The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.

The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.

The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.

Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.

The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.

There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.

It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.

Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.

To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.

As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.

"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."

The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.

Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.

"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.

"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.

Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.

This time the boy spoke differently.

"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.

The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.

Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.

Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-

"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.

He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.

He flinch as he pushed the thing away.

"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.

He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.

"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."

The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.

"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.

This was hell. This was his hell.

But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.

Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.

****

"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"

After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.

"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.

"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.

"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.

"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.

"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.

"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.

[meira-3919]

Okay, hear me out!! VLAD!

Vlad has always been able to do nasty things to satiate his obsessions and wants, he tried kidnapping and trapping Danny and Maddie. Hell, he cloned Danny and tortured him in the process! It is canon that he willingly risked earth in the finale in order to get what he wants. And he wants Maddie more than anything.

But he can't have her...not in the traditional way... but then here comes Danny.

Danny, who grows to look like his mom more and more everyday. He gets her height, her lithe form, her sarcasm, her smarts. Sometimes, Vlad thinks that with a few tweaks, Danny would be the spitting image of his mother. And Vlad gets more obsessed, fixated on that point. He reasons that it technically is Maddie since Danny has her DNA, then those tweaks come to mind again. What if he just did this, a slight hair cut and a dye job, and he'd have Maddie's hair! Then it escalates. It escalates until there is little left of Danny.

[lolottes]

ok when you mentioned Vlad an idea came to me but not at all the same as yours:

Vlad cloned Danny again but this time the clone is screwed up in a new way: his body is functional, he clearly lives/ n It's not an empty envelope (like what will be given to Dan) but his personality.... is problematic. But Vlad doesn't care about that, no the problem for Vlad is that his new Danny can't seem to transform into a ghost form, even though they have access to these powers without much problem, he is stuck in human form.

Vlad tries to correct this. with scalpels and other unethical experiments but continues to call the clone by sweet name as well as Danny

thus the Danny clone assimilated that: Vlad behavior is normal behavior to have.

when the real Danny saves him by punching Vlad and giving poorly worded advice then letting him go explore the world like he did for Dani...

New Danny then integrates that it is normal to take revenge if he is harmed and that as Danny he must in some way save people... but his sense of normality is more than messed up and the absence of guidance he ended up being the killer killer who relaxes in Gotham, enjoying the latter's atmosphere and its ghostly nature so as not to have eaten.

ho and he apparently got the Fenton luck as a bonus which means he doesn't really hunt, he just waits for trouble by vibrating quietly in his corners

[nightingale-prompts]

Thats so creepy. I love him already.

I'm going to call him Davey.

Little guy has probably never been on his own and trying to do what feels natural to him. Which would be waiting for someone like Vlad to tell him what to do.

In a twisted way, he loves Vlad but only because Vald is all he knows. He unintentionally attracts adults like Vlad who hurt kids because he feels at home there. When bad people lure him in they call him with sweet words and praise that remind him of his creator. He plays with them until they are all used up and dead because he's a child who doesn't really understand what he's doing.

He likely followed Bruce because he smelled like dead children (Jason and Damian) and thought he found someone new to play with. But Bruce doesn't try to kill him, or hurt him. He didn't even try to physically touch him. All of this is new and weird.

He also becomes an Ipad kid later.

[ajreads2much]

He also becomes an Ipad kid later.

Now all I can imagine is him doing all those weird poses that kids do when they're playing with their iPads. I don't want him to be one of those gross smelly sticky kids that smear everything they have on their hands on the screens 😭

Also what are the reactions of the batkids to Davey?! Like are they weirded out? Some of them are definitely concerned and curious. But what about Damian and Jason(the aforementioned dead children) are they hostile, ready to brawl like the other ghosts with Danny, or are they just wary of him being another loa spy?

Kinda wanna see Dani and Danny's reaction to Davey tho. Like Danny fully thought that he's just going to travel around the world like Dani and he did travel but with the additional adventure of tormenting child murderers/abusers/rapists(I love Davey for that! Good for him!!).

Would Danny blame himself for leaving Davey and letting him go and assuming that he'll be like Dani and then Dani finds out that she got another clone brother but this one is a little more unhinged and wouldn't hesitate on tormenting criminals to their deaths. What would their meeting be like? Is it angsty, fluffy, a perfect mix of both or just a plain mess? Idk...

[nightingale-prompts]

Bringing back another black-haired and blue-eyed boy was met with a round of sighs but acceptance.

Little Davey looked only a few years younger than Damian. 12 years old at the most. The boy was pale, slightly gaunt, with large eyes and matted black hair.

Davey was strange. He didn't understand social cues or how to exist in public. He knew next to nothing about how the world works or how to stay safe. Cars were familiar enough but only because he would be dragged into them or put in the trunk. He was very excited when he was allowed to touch the buttons.

Damian wasn't ready to be an older brother especially not to something like that thing. Davey felt wrong to Damian. Something that shouldn't exist.

Damian was proved right when the boy looked him right in the eyes and said.

"Play with me." He pulled Damian's drawn sword to his neck. "Cut me open!"

Bruce snatched Davey back from the blade and told Damian to put it away. Davey was forbidden from entering the Batcave and any dangerous items.

Damian was freaked out. Davey was too mentally disturbed to be here. However, the revenant is fond of his older brother and follows him around and begs him to play. Damian has to try pawning him off on the others but Davey is like glue.

Then there was food.

Davey didn't understand food. He had been fed a mostly liquid diet for his short life by Vlad. The liquid was made from nutrients and ectoplasm. After escaping Davey didn't know what food looked like. When strangers came up to him offering candy he took it. So he learned that candy was also food. But that wasn't enough to make him full, so he resorted to the closest form of ectoplasm he could find. Human blood. He learned that he could drink it for sustenance.

Feeding Davey for the first time was...sad. He was like a toddler learning what different flavors were. Sour, salty, and savory. All so new a wonderful.

Tim let him him have a sip of soda and Davey was hooked.

Tim is also banned from giving food to Davey after letting him try coffee and making him sick.

Stephanie is also banned after giving him spicy chips. Mostly because of Davey's need to harm himself caused him to eat himself sick.

Davey's issues are more than concerning. Dick was supposed to watch him while Bruce was investigating the last suicide linked to Davey. Davey didn't know how to talk to someone not trying to kill him. But Dick felt like him. The blood on his hands was the same as his. But the lingering scent of another pulled Davey elsewhere.

The other revenant.

One that felt a similar drive.

Bruce debated if Jason should meet Davey. It could help them both but it could easily make them worse. Davey was impressionable, to say the least, and Jason didn't need to bring someone else on his crusade.

Jason wouldn't use Davey like that but Davey would surely agree to it.

But Davey wasn't like Jason. He didn't kill. He gets killed. He lets himself be tortured until he drives others insane. Jason could never use him to kill the Joker. In fact, the clown must never know of Davey's powers or Davey might find his eternal playmate.

But it doesn't change that Jason and Davey will meet.

"Yeah, he's coming with me," Jason said picking up the boy under one arm.

"You can't just take him!" Dick yelled

"Do you guys think you can control him? That he'll stop wandering around looking for more targets. He can't and he won't. It's a part of him. At least I can get to his targets before they can kill him first. If he can sniff out any predator then he can use his powers for good." Jason said .

"He's not like us. He's a child and mentally he isn't ready for the outside world yet. I love you but I can't let you drag him into your mess." Dick said.

"And what? Fix him? He is a revenant and he's going to seek out his obsession. In a place like Gotham, he will find another target. He needs it." Jason barked.

There is no clear answer. They could try to preserve any innocence Davey had left but that same innocence led him to being tortured. They could also tell him what he's actually doing and he'll then do it on purpose knowingly killing others. What was better for him mentally because they all knew by this point Davey would strike again? It's his nature.

The only answer they had right now was finding where Davey died originally and calming his spirit. If they could find his original killer or make a grave for him then he'd settle.

Constantine was firm that Davey couldn't leave even if they calmed his soul. His life and death were too traumatic for him to disappear.

On the other side of the country, Danny had a bad feeling. He knew he should leave his clones to themselves and wait for them to come home on their own but his most recent clone brother bothered him. He wasn't like Elle at all. He was...odd. Danny decided not to worry too much since the clone was stable.

But then Vlad talked non-stop about losing his "precious boy". The word made him feel sick. Then there was the first death. Some offender that lived on the outskirts of town ended their life. The only reason anyone talked about it was the state he was found in. Blood was everywhere more blood than a single human body had and unknown chunks of meat scattered the ground.

Danny brushed it off but more started happening and they led a bloody trail.

Of course, Danny knew something was up. This all lined up perfectly with the clone's escape. But at the same time, all the victims were serial child murderers. It was hard to feel bad about it. He had found his obsession and it was such a bad one.

But Danny was still worried. A bit of investigation wouldn't hurt.

(This all came out as a stream of consciousness)

[lolottes]

ok, several ideas that I don't yet know how to organize:

*Danny can't really leave his town but on the other hand Dani is already traveling. Dani takes finding the new clone/cousin as a part of "Where's Waldo?" life size

*Davey is a sort of lightning rod for getting kidnapped (literally next to a Wayne in public, at a gala etc) or other crime (found by chance in the middle of a shootout when lost at the mall, random assault, wandering by chance in a place trapped by bombs while walking, hostage situation ect)

*he's also incredibly easy to lose, even with all the bat concentration . This ultimately adds to his supernatural abilities

*luckily for the batfam it is also ok to wear trackers H24 (Davey doesn't know what a tracker is but doesn't care enough to ask)

*Davey releases interference when he uses his ghost abilities, usually his regeneration. The batfam quickly learns to rush to its location when it happens

* The first time Davey sees dialysis he seems to become extremely happy then jealous: Davey associates dialysis= "game" with Vlad or just after a session. He thinks they "played" without him >:( not fair

*Dani finally shows up and checks on Davey quickly and thanks his adoptive family and plans to leave as well. The batfam interrupts her in her lightning thanks to ask her who she is, she replies: uh, sister or cousin I guess? then turns to Davey waiting for his opinion

*giving a name to a supernatural entity seals a sort of contract between the entity and the person who gives this name if the entity accepts this name (fae rule). By giving him the name Davey the Wayne family tied Davey into a bond that neither party is aware of and therefore defined. Constantine groaned upon hearing this.

*Davey can see the weak but vengeful ghosts of children, that's how he knew the name of the first victim in the first post. Mayba Danny/Dani/Vlad can not do that

*Davey gets along surprisingly well with street children. Subconsciously the children know that they are safe with him because if anything bad happens it will ALWAYS fall on Davey

[lexosaurus]

I'm new to the Phandom, and was wondering who the heck is Wes? Did I miss an episode or something that he was mentioned in?

Basically. Wes Weston is this background character that appears for exactly one scene in the whole goddamn show.

He has no lines, he doesn’t do anything except stand and then run. He’s virtually the most useless character in the entirety of the Danny Phantom series.

The thing is, what the phandom realized, is that he has the exact same character model as Danny Fenton. He’s just a ginger instead.

They deadass took the MAIN CHARACTER’S model sheet, swapped the hair and eye colors, made him a lil taller, added a few freckles, and was like “yeah no one will notice this.”

Oh, but we did notice it.

So we were like “this is fucking hysterical” and all collectively—because, remember, what the hell even is canon in this show—that he was going to be a prominent character in fanon. And now he is.

His name, Wes Weston, comes from the class ring that Jack gives to Danny during the lil arc when he is dating Valerie. Jack engraves the ring with Sam’s name (because he thinks Danny’s dating Sam), and during a scene where Danny has to go chase after a ghost, he gives the ring to Sam to hold onto so he doesn’t lose it.

But then Sam holds the ring upside-down and so “Sam” on the ring becomes “Wes.”

The last name of Weston was just one of those, “Hey how dumb would that be if his name was Wes Weston?” “Lol that’s such a dumb fucking name I hate it.” “Ok it’s fanon now.” “Lmfao.”

So now Wes Weston needed a backstory. And because he looks exactly the same as Danny Fenton, and because we all know that Danny’s absolutely atrocious at keeping his double life a secret, fanon decided that instead of the town discovering that Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom, what if everyone just thought Wes was Phantom? Because, ya know, they look so similar? And Wes actually seems to have some athletic skill? (**See Edit for updated backstory)

And because it’s hilarious?

So that took off, where everyone thinks Wes is Phantom, and the A-listers think he’s super weird because he’s part ghost, and Wes is going out of his mind because he’s the only one (outside of the trio and Jazz) that actually knows that Danny is Phantom but no one believes him.

And oh man, does Wes try to prove it. He stakes out Fenton’s house, follows ghost attacks, brings cameras everywhere with him, but no matter how hard he tries, all his plans are foiled. Maybe a stray ectoblast breaks his camera, maybe all the pics he gets are super blurry, maybe Danny steals the memory chip from him—no matter what, Wes never gets proof.

And Danny? The general fanon hc is that he’s having an absolute fucking blast annoying the shit out of Wes with every chance he gets.

Check out some awesome comics and stuff of this: [here] / [here] / [here] / [here]

and this hilarious video animatic thing of wes: [here]

So yeah! Hope that helped! I fucking adore Wes as a phandom creation, and I’m glad his legacy has lasted all these years!

**EDIT: Over the years in phandom, Wes’s role in the series has changed from the people of Amity Park claiming that he is Phantom, to the people of Amity Park just regarding him as a crazy conspiracy theorist. Occasionally, the insinuation that “Wes is Phantom” is made, but it’s mostly seen sarcastically in phanon now. Wes has also been given a brother Kyle Weston who, as a foil of Wes, is a relaxed teen boy who does not believe in ghosts at all.