192 posts
I desperately need more of this-
Everyone knows about the petrified teenage boy on a small little land between Gotham and Metropolis. His body was discovered around the teenage years of Thomas Wayne. There was a stylized D on his chest, and he looked like he was protecting something or someone.
Many years later, Red Robin was the one to find out the origin of the petrified boy between the two cities.
The boy was a hero, one who protected many people, the first hero, if you would, that was beloved by the people. Red Robin even discovered that the boy was seen all across the world in different periods of time.
But the full story of the boy came from an elderly woman, Jasmine Nightingale, who is the Older Sister to the boy, Daniel "Danny" Nightingale, was a hero that protected the living and the dead, he lived in Gotham and frequently visited her in Metropolis. His last action before he was petrified was protecting his daughter, who was a clone of him, from the American government.
The Bats go to the petrified boy to frequently pay their respects, and other Heroes do as well, but not as frequently as the Bats. There have been attempts to find out who the daughter of Danny Phantom is, but no one has been successful.
Danielle Masters, the woman who inherited the Masters fortune after Vladimir Masters passed, had caused a change in the petrified boy when she put a strange ring on the finger of the boy.
Cracks had appeared on the boys petrified body, and a green glow is visible in the cracks on his body, and Danielle Masters had vanished before she could be questioned what she did (She left to find the Crown of Flames to fully free Danny from his current predicament).
Assume any and all fanfics have bad parents Maddie and Jack Fenton and vivisection/dissection unless stated otherwise
Danny has to be the most impressive or overpowered there just because
Phantom planet? Don't know her
Canon is barely a thing
We have achieved the creation of a culture within the ghost zone with absolutely no basis on canon that we all agree upon and it's your business to figure out
Yes, that ship exists and it's quite popular
No matter the time of year there's always a fandom event going on
It's a few years after AGIT and Danny's off to college! Gotham City University specifically.
Things are going well, he's going for a mechanical engineering degree. Sam and Tucker are around and when they're not too busy they meet up, he's even making friends outside of the Amity social-circle. He works as a medium to pay his bills and, surprise-surprise bringing shades back to the ghost zone is easy for a kid who fought supervillain level ghosts in highschool.
Tiny problem though, nobody in Amity taught Danny to be "human". He obviously knows not to float around in public just cause his feet are tired, but his friends know human eyes don't glow to really show when you're annoyed. They all like him still but, Everybody thinks he's something.
His classmates: think he's possessed by a demon.
The Bats: think he's possessed by a snich ghost.
His new friends: think he's a closeted meta.
Danny: thinks he's crushing the whole secret-identity thing ;)
I love in DPxDC crossovers when Danny/ghosts are enthusiastic about Damian because he comes across as a baby ghost and they think his aggression is cute attempts to initiate play fighting.
But now I want to see fics where the whole batfam (or most) is liminal/ghostly, and due to his life-long exposure to the puts/Gotham’s ambient exoplasm, Damian is actually the oldest ghost in the batfam. Realms beings telling Batman to be quiet, adults are talking, and then turning to Robin for his opinion.
Lets be fair, most of those came from Vlad’s mansion-
https://youtu.be/v7nqFdpZBx4?si=3J29kJyHFBSMh-04
AMAZING YOU FOUND IT
Context
Danny is plopped into Gotham via Clockwork because he needs a vacation and a way to vent his energy, which is building up because of a growth spurt. Danny in true Fenton fashion finds an underground group of meta teens and kids, who just want to live a normal life, and decides to join them in throwing huge underground raves where everyone could vent out their powers however they wanted as long as someone kept a look out for the bats or rouges. Well, one night, Danny is on the lookout and sees the bats. He doesn't know what to do, so he immediately runs in, smashes a bottle of soda on the floor, and yells, "IT'S THE FURRIES! SCATTER!" And just as Batman arrives, everyone runs in a different direction. Danny just straight-up turns invisible and phases through the floor in panic.
I have nothing else to say XD
Edit: Someone found a DP version :D
They all stare in shock at the clearly non-human sidekick that Green Arrow now has, but both of them claim he’s human. Wonder Woman swears the kid has a godly aura, Superman is concerned by the kids heart rate, and Green Lantern isn’t positive, but he keeps getting flashes of what looks like a translucent ring of rage on the kids finger?
Green Arrow isn't sure what that means, or who the white haired meta teenager barreling towards him is, but because of that desperate plea he knows not to shoot.
Then the teenager goes through him, and stops directly behind him, using him as a shield as another meta, this one dressed like a vampire or something stops in front of Green Arrow.
"Daniel, enough. I am willing to take the task of educating-"
"Dibs."
Green Arrow blinks.
The vampire blinks.
"Beg pardon?" The vampire asks.
"Dibs. I call dibs." Green Arrow repeats.
He has...a vague idea that he's probably calling dibs on the kid behind him, for hero training purposes if the jumpsuit is anything to go by. Honestly, he hadn't even meant to say dibs, he'd just heard the vampire guys voice and hated it so much he called it.
"You have no idea what you're-"
"Sidekick. This is my sidekick now. I called dibs, you didn't." Green Arrow shrugs in a 'what can you do' motion, quietly grabbing one of his arrows specially made for supernatural entities.
He got it from a business called 'Fentonworks', and he hopes it'll actually do what it's namesake says, and work.
"I am working in his best interest!"
"And I called dibs."
"He doesn't even use arrows!"
"I've just decided I wanna learn how to use arrows," the kid breaks in, winded.
Green Arrow nods sagely.
"See? He's just decided he wants to learn."
The situation devolves from there and Green Arrow ends up shooting the vampire in the ass with one of those Fentonworks arrows, finding out that yes, they do work as intended.
Afterwards, he's left with an exhausted meta teen, who didn't use that fight as a chance to run away, like what would have been the smart thing to do.
"Sorry, I also need you to get these off of me," the teen says, holding out his arms and revealing a pair of metal cuffs.
...
Green Arrow shouldn't have aimed for that guys ass.
He should have aimed for his dick.
I absolutely need this. I need to see one of the heroes (probably Batman, let's be honest) put two and two together, realizing that A) these kids only ever interrupt one of Flash’s fights to stop him from time traveling, and B) they supposedly don’t exist and.. Oh, oh no, Flash erased them from this timeline but they still exist. No wonder they’re pissed-
Especially if the kids is uno reverse Bruce Wayne bait.
These two kids literally stopped him from running back through the time 13th times in a roll by doing something distracting that completely took his attention alongside this them saving the day before Flash went back to fix it.
Scary accurate, too, after the last time he was tackled and manhandled by a giant glowing green dog when the kids play hot potato and threw a purple dog toy at him saying fetch cujo.
This little brats has some type of vendetta over him that they keeps stopping him from time running.
The 'We will break your kneecaps' on the watchtower in glowing green marker is new to him.. in the middle of a meeting with the Justice league.
You know, for the fastest man in the world, he didn't expect to get stalked and unabled to catch the stalkers even at last speed 13 times in a roll.
Especially with a group of heroes and Batman staring down at Flash for him to explain what had happened.
That two little kids were stalking the fastest man in the world to stop him from running sounds ridiculous, but it was true that even his team investigating can't seem to find anything or nothing on the database about this two children.
As if they didn't exist in the first place...
....
....
....
....
All danny wanted to do was go home after a lesson about being the Infinite Prince and its duty from Clockwork, but yet he couldn't seem to find the home portal, not even Vlad’s was opened which was very odd.
He did catch Ellie zooming around the ghost realm, who was panicking as well about the missing portals, but thankfully, Johnny and Kitty helped them find a natural portal to their home dimension.. Danny is going to have a stern talking with them about that later, but right now, he wanted to go home now.
Only.. there was no home to go to because Amity Park had disappeared.
If it weren't for Clockwork's sticky notes all over a stump trunk that used to be Amity Park's welcome sign that saved Danny from having a total meltdown and psychic break in his core with how small he and ellie became slipping out of the natural portal.
Apparently, some Jackass Time Speeder changed the timeline too many times in which Amity Park, the world greatest ghost town, ceased to existence.
Thankfully, Clockwork left them a little gift that were time watches to help located the dirty bastard that basically ruined Danny's timeline in exchange of punishment for all the timelines clockwork had to fix due to this man.
Danny and Ellie would gladly accept beating up this wannabe timeline ruining bastard, and they'll be creative at it, too.
this is definitely how I originally imagined it from the main post, but the “twins” Au version of this story is also really. I’m eagerly awaiting the next part, and hoping for Clark to show up soon. 👀☺️
Because it looks like it's making a beeline for her fields.
She has no idea what makes her fields such a magnet for this, but she's certain it's not an asteroid. She couldn't say how she knows, just that she does.
It looks like a ship of some sort, with blinking lights and reflective surfaces.
She's debating on whether or not to sound the alarm and call one of Clark's friends, since she doesn't know if this alien will be friendly or not, when she notices something.
That ship isn't coming in smooth.
It is, in fact, tearing itself apart the lower it gets.
Then, with a final, ear piercing boom, it completely shatters.
Martha's eye is drawn to a rather round piece that broke off and shot towards the very edge of her property.
She doesn't call one of Clark's friends.
She gets the first aid kit and gets in the truck.
~~~~~~
Dan is flying the Specter Speeder through the Infinite Realms, an unconscious Danny on the floor of it behind him.
The twerp's injured.
He can't treat him.
He has to outrun the GIW and their own Speeders.
In desperation, he does a hard turn right into a temporary portal. The kind that blinks out of existence almost as soon as they get made.
He appears in the exosphere of another Earth.
No GIW Speeder follows him, but he's got a new problem; this thing isn't meant for the force re-entering Earth's atmosphere will put on it.
He puts it on autopilot, ordering it to find an empty area with good Ley Lines, and turns to start arranging both himself and Danny into the escape pod.
He can't activate it, or it'll also be subjected to the forces currently tearing the Speeder apart.
He'll have to stay in the pod, shielding his clone/twin as best as he can, while they hurtle towards Earth.
The last thing he remembers is the pod breaking away from the Speeder and hitting the ground.
The next thing he knows, he's waking up on the floor of a farmhouse, covered in bandages.
Time loop x Dead Serious
Damian had been in a time loop for 99 days.
It had taken 40 loops for him to realize Phantom, the newest member of the Justice League, was looping as well. When he finally managed to corner him, Phantom was as confused as he was. Apparently, Phantom’s mentor, who was the embodiment of time, was unable to be contacted.
Damian found out about Phantom’s civilian identity in loop 45 after he joined Phantom on a patrol.
Loop 56 was when they started getting closer than just allies. That was the loop where they saw someone die for the first time.
(Damian was too distracted. He didn’t realize Timothy was behind him. He had forgotten about the goons behind him. He didn’t see the bullet coming.)
(He couldn’t meet Timothy’s eyes when he was at breakfast that morning.)
It was loop 85 when they finally found out that someone had apparently found clockwork summoning circle. It took 3 more days for them to locate the cult and discover the cult was working with the League of Assassins.
(Damian could feel the eyes of his family, but he wasn’t willing to pretend he was the same. He had seen each of them die on patrol and knew each of their deaths was due to his actions. He refused to act the same.)
They spent two loops doing reconnaissance, and eight days of planning.
(Damian and Daniel-Danny, he had asked to be called Danny, were becoming codependent. Damian knew the signs of it. Danny had even brought it up. Still, they both had seen their friends and family die and wake up in the morning without any recollection. They were the only other people who understood what they had seen, the changes that happened in their minds.)
Loop day 99 was their “purge day”as Danny called it. Danny had taken him for a day of freedom before the fight, somehow, knowing that Damian couldn’t bear to look at his family right now.(He knew Danny felt the same. Danny had been the one who called him in a haze on loop 62 when his parents discovered who he was and tried to kill him. Danny had apparently had that happen once before during this loop, and it happened one other time after Danny and Damien became allies. Both times ended with the two of them silently cuddling through the night.)
The fight had been remarkably easy. Undoing the summoning circle was… more complicated.
Clockwork looked genuinely sorry. He apologized to them, and gave them both necklaces of time medallions, so that things like this or like speedsters would leave them unchanged.(Danny laughed a little after that, though it seemed partially hysterical.)
Danny spent that night in Damian’s arms in silence. Damien couldn’t fathom letting him go.
(the loop was ending, but what did that mean for them? They couldn’t pretend to be strangers again tomorrow. Were they supposed to be back to normal? how could Damien scoff and call Timothy by his last name when he had seen Timothy die for him? How could Danny act as if he trusted his parents when he had seen them find out he was a ghost and try to murder him? How were they supposed to move on?)
As Damien awoke to the sound of his door being opened, his arms still wrapped around Danny’s sleeping figure, he slowly realized that he had gotten into the habit of not setting his alarm anymore.

so cute 🥰 Now I need one of Tim finding something of equivalence with Danny. Like, maybe Danny takes notes on the back of his blueprints while he works, and they start to be filled with things to tell Tim later, or something.
Tim keeps journals—pages filled with scattered thoughts, half-formed ideas, reminders hastily scribbled in the margins before they slip from his mind. His penmanship is erratic, sometimes neat, sometimes a barely legible scrawl. There’s no structure, no careful curation—just the unfiltered chaos of his thoughts, poured onto the pages with reckless honesty.
Danny finds them everywhere.
There’s one on Tim’s desk, filled with quick notes and unfinished sketches. Another by the bed, pages warped from where Tim has knocked over his coffee more than once. One tucked into his jacket, carried with him wherever he goes. And when Danny opens them, he finds something unexpected.
Not plans for patrols. Not mission reports or Gotham’s latest conspiracies.
No, these journals are something else. Something just for Danny.
There are messy, hurried notes—things Tim meant to tell him but hadn’t yet, thoughts that slipped his mind in the rush of the day. Scattered reminders: Tell Danny about the ghost dog that stole my sandwich. Ask Danny if ectoplasm works the same way as Lazarus water. Danny likes lemon biscuits. Find a good recipe?
There are doodles, too. Little sketches of Danny in the margins, some more detailed than others. A rough, unfinished one of him asleep on the couch, another of his hands, a quick, cartoonish scribble of Danny sticking his tongue out with the words annoying boyfriend scrawled underneath.
It’s messy. It’s chaotic. And it’s so Tim.
Danny had always imagined love as something poetic, something grand and beautiful, the kind of thing written in sweeping verses that promised forever. The kind of love you read about in stories, in letters written with elegant penmanship, every word crafted with care.
Tim’s love isn’t like that. It isn’t neatly composed or carefully written.
It’s raw. It’s real. It’s a thousand little moments captured in ink-stained fingers and smudged notes. It’s love scribbled into the corners of his life, unpolished and unfiltered.
And Danny? Danny wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Because love, he realizes, isn’t always the kind you find in poetry. Sometimes, it’s a journal filled with half-finished thoughts and silly drawings. Sometimes, it’s a name written absentmindedly in the corner of a page, over and over again. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a note that says, Thinking of you.
Love doesn’t have to be perfect to be real. It doesn’t have to be grand to mean everything.
And like honey pulled straight from the comb, love is sweetest when it’s raw.
I can’t stop thinking about this thing I saw so I’m doing a similar thing where Danny tells people to do stuff and I hey listen for whatever reason.
Grunt or something: “Hey! I’m kidnapping you!”
Danny: “No you’re not, but I am kinda hungry, so will you run down to the bodega on the corner and get me something?”
Grunt, confused but feels inclined to listen: “Oh, you mean Steve’s Spot, what do you want?”
Danny: “Do you think you can get a number seven, ask them to add extra sauce too”
Grunt, already heading down the street: “no problem!”
Tim, who Danny was talking to: ????
Lois Lane is hunting Danny to get an interview with the King of the afterlife, or whatever it is Phantom does. (Mama wants another Pulitzer for the pile!)
Danny is trying like hell to avoid her, since he's not supposed to just tell people how the afterlife works. (Also, Lois scares him.)
"Hide me!" Phantom shrieked before ducking underneath Batman's cape.
They were barely given a moment to even be surprised before the doors slammed open.
Lois Lane stood proudly in front of the doors, somehow finding a way onto the Justice League watchtowers. She scanned the room with her eyes narrowed like a predator trying to find prey as she grit her teeth and snarled, "Where is he?"
Superman coughed. "Lois! What are you doing here? Actually— how'd you even get here?"
Lois waved him off. "Don't worry about it. Where. Is. He?"
Batman was furiously typing away on his phone, possibly trying to find out how a civilian (admittedly married to a fellow superhero) was able to get into the watchtower, while everyone else shared looks.
"Uhm. Who?" Green Lantern asked awkwardly, exchanging a glance with the Flash.
"He! Phantom! He owes me an interview! Actually, he owed me one 45 minutes ago! I had to chase him from New York to Mexico to Peru and then to here! Where is he?!"
Wonder Woman said rather blandly, "He's not here."
Lois narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure?"
Wonder Woman nodded sagely. "Yes. He darted out of sight using his powers. Perhaps he hoped that you'd waste your time here while he ran off further."
"Dang it! Alright, excuse me, please, I need to search for a certain ghost!" Lois snapped before she strode off like a storm, just as quick as she appeared.
There was silence for a long time.
Then Phantom poked his head out of Batman's cape.
"Thanks for the assist, guys. Also, Batman, did you know that your cape is actually partly a portal?"
"I'm sorry, what—?!"
Excuse me Op, what’s that supposed to mean? 😟 Why is it in quotes? Also, there’s more than one ending? 😥
The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.
Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.
🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶
🎶long before- it begins🎶
The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.
"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.
"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."
"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.
Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"
"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.
"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"
"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."
Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.
Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.
"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"
"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."
Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."
As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.
"Alfred?"
"W, what?"
"Are you OK?"
Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.
"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"
"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.
Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.
By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?
At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.
"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"
"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."
The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.
He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.
He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.
Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.
"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???
"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.
"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"
When Selina was pregnant with her's and Bruce's child, she was thinking of settling down and raising the child. But when she had given birth to the boy, someone had broken into the hospital and stolen not only her baby but also other babies had been taken from the hospital. She tried to find out who took her baby boy but couldn't find the perpetrator.
Heartbroken at the loss of her baby, Selina masks her grief with being Catwoman. She doesn't tell Bruce about their baby boy, even after the new boy that goes under the Bats wing. She does treat each new Robin as if they were her own son. She talks to Harley about what had happened when Damian comes into the fold, where she then reveals that she had a baby with Bruce to the man and what happened to their baby after a few sessions with Harley.
Danny is on the run from Amity, from the Fentons, from the GIW, and from Vlad. The Fentons found out about him being Phantom and attacked him. They then teamed up with the GIW to hunt him down. He doesn't want to go to Vlad, as the Fruitloop is slowly becoming more and more crazy to get him to become his son and slowly focusing less and less on Maddie.
He heads to Gotham, as the city spirit, when she was chosen to be part of his court because of her knowledge and power, had told him that he was one of hers, a child born in Gotham to a woman that wasn't Maddie, Catwoman, and that's also how he found out that he's the son of Batman as well, because Lady Gotham gave him that answer as well, but she didn't tell him their real names. He just hopes that his mom and dad will be happy to learn that their son is still (mostly) alive and on his way to them.
And then Danny is caught by the Joker. He couldn't put up that much of a fight as he used up a lot of Ectoplasm escaping the lab he was in. Tucker's family moved away during middle school, and so did Sam's family when the start of high school came, Jazz had returned from college to help him escape the lab he was held in, but had to go back if she wanted to keep the scholarship.
The Batfam was having a family day out in Gotham. Bruce and Selina were engaged and wanted to bond as a family. Then Joker began broadcasting across Gotham.
"Hello Gotham! Today, I have a special guest with me"
The camera panned to a boy tied up in a chair, head hanging low.
"Brucie Boy seems to have forgotten to mention that he has another brat to call his own, so I took it upon myself to inform you all about him!"
When Joker grabbed the face of the boy and showed it to the camera, the entire Batfam tensed. Because the boys face had the features of both Bruce and Selina, the cuts, bruises, and blood on the boys face couldn't hide that fact, and now they need to find the boy to save him from what Joker has planned for their son.
Hello? Must share, this masterpiece-
(Once again slightly inspired by @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.)
Read on ao3.
Masterpost. Next.
“B, didn’t you promise us as you’d tell if there was a possibility of another secret child?” Tim asks as he stares at the black haired boy, who looks like he had been to hell and back to get here, with blue eyes — because of course, they are blue — in front of the Manor’s door.
He can’t help but feel unnerved by the way the boy evaded their security measures and how he hasn’t said a single word since Tim opened the door even when he can see the boy’s hands tremble.
“Yes?” Bruce's voice floats from further in the Manor, his barely audible gaunt drawing near.
“Then who the hell is this?” he asks just as the man turns the corner. He freezes at the sight of the kid, literally blue screening as he takes him in.
“Actually he’s mine,” a too chipper voice announces and Tim nearly jumps out of skin as he turns to Dick.
The young man must see both Tim and Bruce doing the mental calculations in their heads because he interrupts before they can draw the wrong conclusions.
“If Bruce can go around adopting children, I can do the same.” Then he turns to the boy. “You can come in, Danny.”
Tim is eerily reminded of a wary, frightened cat as the boy — Danny moves inside. His steps are too silent for a mere civilian.
Bruce and Tim share a look and Tim knows that they are both asking themselves when Dick met the boy and why he never mentioned him with how familiar he acts around him as he easily tucks him into his side.
Although neither of them wants to accept it, Dick has changed since the one year where he disappeared without a trace. He’d told them that he was shot leading to him to lose his memories and that he only retained his memories a few days before he came back, but Tim always had a feeling the older man was not telling the whole truth, hiding it behind an easy-going smile. He didn’t speak a single word about what happened during that year, claiming he didn’t remember much of it ever since his memories returned.
Not only that, but it had become even rarer than before that any of them would meet Dick at the manor (even Jason was at the Manor more often) — and when he was present he was always studying them with an intense stare as if he was searching for something in their expressions.
“Dick,” Bruce starts but the man waves him off.
“Later,” he says. “I need to see if I have any fresh clothes for Danny.”
Dick pulls the boy away and they head up the stairs. Tim gives it a minute before he follows, nodding at Bruce, who does the same. He hears them stop in the hallway and he pauses in his steps.
“What’s going on?” Tim hears the man's question and he sneaks closer when he can’t hear the boy’s response. He subtly uses his phone’s camera to peek around the corner.
“What about Mom and Dad?” Dick asks in a hushed whisper and Tim knits his eyebrows together — confused about who his brother is talking about.
Danny winces with a pained expression.
“The GIW got them in custody for affiliating with and aiding an ectoplasmic entity,” he explains. “You are my only chance.”
“Jazz, Sam, Tucker?” Dick almost seems desperate and when the boy just shakes his head after each name, he runs a hand through his hair and curses.
“And you are sure we can’t go to them?”
Tim can’t help but ask himself who they are talking about that Dick’s voice is so full of disdain. Danny vehemently shakes his head, eyes squeezed together like he is remembering something painful and when he speaks his voice is shaky.
“I don’t know what to do, Ric,” he says, clutching the top of his shirt like his heart is hurting and Tim’s eyebrows climb to the top of his hairline at the unusual nickname. “I can’t- I can’t do this alone…”
“Fuck.” Dick takes a deep breath as he hugs Danny. “Okay. Yes, of course I’m coming with you, baby ghost. Just let me grab my things and then we’ll go on our way.”
“You will not go anywhere.”
Bruce steps in Dick’s path before Tim can stop him and he narrows his eyes at the pair. Danny flinches away from the man and Dick steps protectively in front of the boy.
Tim knows Bruce and Dick had their rough patches in the past but never like this. Never had Dick looked at Bruce like he was a threat.
“I’m not in the mood, B,” Dick warns sharply.
“And I’m not about to let you go off with someone that I haven’t vetted.”
Dick lets out a bitter huff of a laugh.
“Of course that’s the only thing you would focus on.” His voice is cold. “You’ll bulldoze your way through, and prod and condemn, not caring if you hurt someone innocent in the process as long as you can justify your actions. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point. It’s what happened to Jason after all.”
Bruce reels back like he’s been punched.
“Now if that is all, I have to go save the people who actually treat me like family.”
This time nobody stops Dick as he leaves the house, Danny in tow.
“Master Bruce, Master Tim,” Alfred’s voice tears Tim out of his trance and startles Bruce who froze in his spot. “Where is Master Dick?”
Dick trembles with barely suppressed fury as he leads Danny to his car.
He wanted to believe that Bruce was better — that he wouldn’t have led the Justice League on a hunt after a child, but the longer he is back in Gotham as Richard Grayson — the longer he is around who were supposed to be his “actual” family, the more he grows unsure about that fact. There is no easy trust between them — not the steadfast determination that no matter what happens, they’ll take his side. Not like the Fentons have. (It’s been barely 2 months and he misses being Ric Fenton — misses being Jack and Maddie’s son and Jazz and Danny’s older brother.)
Bruce has contingency plans about them for fuck’s sake. And while he understands that there might be situations where they would be on other sides — the time where he and the Teen Titans had to fight their mind controlled mentors comes to mind — it’s a scary thought. For the first time since ages — since Bruce had taken Robin away from him — he feels like he is on his own.
Back then he had turned to Clark — to Superman. He was the one who gave him the name Nightwing but Dick is plagued by the nightmares he witnessed Danny having. He doesn’t think he can look at his uncle ever the same again.
At the same time, he doesn’t know if Danny and him can do this alone. He glances at the boy as he drives out the gates to the manor — he looks incredibly drained. He’s even paler than usual and there’s a sheen of sweat over his whole body as he leans back in his seat, breaths shallow.
As he drives through the streets of the Bowery a sudden thought comes to his mind. He tears the steering wheel around, tearing Danny out of his doze. He blinks at Dick, eyebrows knitted together when he sees that they are still in Gotham.
“Where are we going?” he asks and Dick gives him a smile that is all teeth.
“Just a little pit stop.”
Jason and Dick don’t talk much — or to be more precise they don’t talk about the important stuff. Not about the — ‘I broke down when I heard about your death and I blame myself for not being there’ or ‘I was sure you hated me and you were glad I was gone’. They barge into each other's apartments, spar or get drunk together and cling to each other when they are sure the other isn’t awake to witness it. It’s not quite healthy — but it’s something better than when Jason was still Robin.
So when the door to one of his safe houses gets slammed open, Jason isn’t concerned. He knows Dick had been off the past few weeks and had been expecting his visit for quite a while now.
The look in Dick’s eyes is different this time around though. It’s not quite the mix of depression coupled with anger he normally expects — it’s something stronger — righteous fury.
“I need your help,” Dick demands before Jason can question what’s going on.
Jason knits his eyebrows together.
“What about Bruce?”
There’s a dark look in the man’s eyes for a moment before it passes and that’s the moment Jason realizes that this something more serious than the usual spats he normally has with B.
“You are the only one I can trust with this.”
He spins around on his heels and is out of the safe house before Jason can blink. Getting a bit impatient and angry about Dick not getting straight to the point and still expecting him to follow — Jason storms out. What he doesn’t expect is the passed out half-dead kid in the passenger seat. A tinge of green enters his vision as he glares at Dick.
“What the hell is going on?”
The story Dick tells as they speed on the highway leaves Jason reeling. If the man’s tone wasn’t carefully monotone as he spoke about Ghosts and an entire town being shifted to a different dimension, Jason would have already declared that Dick finally snapped. He wants to question why he lied to the rest about losing his memories about the year he went missing, but the desperate look he sends him and the way his hands shake on the steering wheel hold him back. It’s only the boy’s quiet snores that have Jason’s volume not climbing above a hiss.
“Are you sure this all happened? That this is real?”
“I was there, Jay,” Dick’s tone leaves no arguments. “I almost watched Danny die, again — fighting Pariah Dark. I would have never forgiven myself if another of my brothers…” He gulps and shakes his head. “I was there this time. I should have made a difference and once again I was helpless”. He slams a fist against the radio, cursing when it turns on, blaring loud music.
He quickly turns the volume down and both of them wait with bated breath as Danny stirs in his seat, before he goes limp again. Dick lets out a deep sigh.
“How do you think I felt once I realized the situation?” Dick questions. “I was in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of who I was. If the Fentons hadn’t found me-” He shakes his head. “Next I know I’m watching a kid fight fucking Ghosts twice his side and getting thrown around like a ragdoll like it’s a normal Tuesday. That shouldn’t happen Jay, it just shouldn’t.”
Jason stays silent.
“And worst of all, I still knew how to fight,” Dick barrels on. “But no matter how much I tried to help Danny and teach him, it was useless because it wasn’t humans or even metas he was up against. How could my moves counter beings that can fly and go intangible and invisible at will?”
Jason still can’t fathom why Dick hid this from them all — but he knows enough to understand why he needs his help.
“So what’s the plan?”
Dick shoots him a relieved smile.
“We still have 12 hours of driving ahead of us,” Dick glances at Danny. “I’m reckoning he’s gonna be out cold for at least half of it if not more. I need you to switch with me after half of the drive so I can get a power nap in, then I’ll take over again.”
“Not trusting me with the car?” Jason teases.
“Show me your drivers license and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
They start bickering, and for a moment Jason can convince himself that this is a normal road trip.
Jason’s at the wheel when the boy wakes up. Dick is out cold and despite the man’s protests Jason can drive normally if he wants to. There’s no reason the man has to over exhaust himself.
They had tossed their phones once they crossed the border to Illinois and Dick had withdrawn a couple of thousand bucks. Jason had questioned why they hadn’t done sooner if they wanted to keep Bruce off their trail, but the man told him he’s not the one he is worried about. Considering what Dick told him about the elusive GIW, Jason can harbor a guess on who he is talking about. It’s after that, that Jason wrangled him into another nap — Dick was in no condition to drive any further.
“Ric?” Danny questions sleepily as he sits up and Jason keeps an eye on him out of the corner of his eyes.
“He’s asleep,” Jason answers and it’s only because he’s used to Damian that he blocks the instinctual kick as the boy realizes he’s not alone.
“I can see that Dick kept you sharp” Jason huffs out a laugh. “I’m Jason, in case he didn’t mention me.”
Danny blinks at him and shifts so he is sitting cross legged. He knits his eyebrows together, clearly thinking.
“You were the pit stop?” he questions.
“Apparently.” Jason shrugs. “Great work, by the way. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Dick this pissed.”
The boy frowns, gnawing at his lips as he stares out the window.
“You’ve died too, haven't you?”
Jason suppresses his initial reaction to snap at the boy. Instead he grits his teeth as he stares straight ahead, the road blurring together.
“And?”
“Ric shouldn’t have let you come.”
He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles are deadly white, green hazing his vision.
“They’ll cut you open too.”
It takes the wind out of his anger and he lets out a curse. The brakes screech as he stops at the side of the road, nearly catapulting them forward with the force of it. Jason finally turns to look at Danny properly. The boy peels down his t-shirt to reveal a gnarly, ugly red Y-shaped scar as he gulps.
“Ric doesn’t know,” he says as he releases the hem of his shirt, covering the scar once more. “I haven’t told him.”
“Then why me?” Jason’s voice rises without his consent.
“Because you’ll get it,” the boy murmurs. “How it feels to die.”
The boy leans back, turning away from Jason to look at the corn field.
“How it haunts you.”
Jason wants to puke and he lets his forehead fall onto the steering wheel.
“Fuck,” he says emotionally and the boy laughs — broken and hysterical. Jason doesn’t comment on the tears streaming down Danny’s face.
Jason starts up the car again, leading the car back on the road.
“Next time Dick asks for my help, I’ll send him to hell.”
Jason hides a smile when the boy snorts at that.
Dick comes to himself as they are about to cross the border into Amity Park. Jason and Danny are quietly talking and he wipes away a little bit of drool as he sits up. It’s dark outside and Danny directs Jason as they enter the city. He leans forward as he enters the conversation.
“You’ll think the GIW’s detectors will sense us?”
Danny glances at Jason, before he turns his attention to Dick.
“We should be fine for a few hours at least as long as I don’t have to turn ghost,” he says. “Half of the town is liminal at this point so you and Jason shouldn’t raise any alarms either. They had too many false alarms in the months since you left.”
Jason looks at Dick strangely once they park where they can hide for the night.
“Since when did you have contact with Lazarus Pits?”
“Never,” Dick retorts. “But living above a portal to the Infinite Realms for a year will do the trick.”
Jason's face scrunches up.
“Who the hell builds a portal in their own basement?”
Both Dick and Danny snort.
“Gotta love Mom and Dad,” the boy says as Dick nods in agreement. “Only they are insane enough.”
Dick makes a face.
“I could do without reanimated meatloaf for the rest of my life though.”
“Don’t remind me,” Danny shudders.
Jason stares at them in bafflement.
“You do know how crazy that sounds?”
“Crazier than Ghosts?” Danny questions with a smirk and Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head
“To give it to Mom and Dad they did stop storing samples in the fridge after we lectured them about it,” Dick adds. At Jason's aghast face he just shrugs. “They are passionate about their work.”
“Insane, absolutely insane,” the man mutters and Dick suppresses a smile.
It had taken him a bit to get used to the Fenton's and their flavor of insanity and chaos. At first he had been worried about them being neglectful at best, but it turns out that they just needed someone to remind them when they got into “hyperfixation” mode. He and Jazz had to stage an intervention and both Maddie and Jack were embarrassed once they realized they took it too far. Dick doesn’t know who is worse — them or Tim when he’s awake for more than three days.
He was very relieved when his initial hunch didn’t turn out to be true after Danny revealed himself as Phantom to his parents. They did a whole 180 on their research, focusing on learning about the intricacies of the Infinite Realms, their culture and even politics instead — resigning from their high positions in the GIW. That’s when the trouble really started.
Dick hadn’t lied about getting amnesia after he was shot and it was also true that his memories had only returned — thanks to Frostbite — two months ago. But the only reason he went back to Gotham had been to get Danny help (the longer they waited the worse the situation with the GIW became) — to find out if the Justice League could be trusted. Once he heard what happened with Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet (and had the memories to properly realize what that meant) he had been horrified. He had given himself a deadline to — if need be, confront the Justice League by the time Danny’s birthday came around and find out the truth. (He had desperately hoped that this was all a misunderstanding, but Bruce’s words still taste bitter on his tongue.)
Dick knows bringing Jason along was a risk — considering Danny’s theory that the Lazarus Pit were corrupted ectoplasm, but they need the manpower to get through the GIW’s defenses. Even if he’s scared shitless about what they’ll do to Jason when they find out just how liminal he is. He knows this is a death mission. But it doesn’t have to be for Jason.
“We need to establish some ground rules,” Dick says reluctantly and Jason narrows his eyes at the wording.
“If we get captured, I want you to save yourself, Jason.” Jason scoffs and Dick raises a hand, silencing his retort before it can come. “I’m the sole reason you got involved in the first place. Me and Danny may be willing to die for them, but I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for something that isn’t even your problem to deal with.”
“If you think I’m gonna agree to those, you are more than stupid than I thought Dick,” Jason’s voice is scathing. “It started being my problem when you came to me for help and we drove for 12 straight hours to get there. If you say those people are your family — then they are mine as well.”
His lips perk into a smirk.
“Besides, I want to meet the people that might be even more batshit insane than B and got you to call them Mom and Dad.”
Dick flushes slightly — the Fenton’s had always insisted on him calling them Mom and Dad and he doesn’t know when the titles became genuine. Even with his memories restored, Ric Fenton feels more alive — more loved — than Richard Grayson ever did.
Danny just shrugs as he leans back, arms crossed behind his neck and feet rested on top of the glove box.
“I guess I have not only two sisters but two older brothers now,” he adds cheekily.
“Brat.”
Jason playfully shoves Danny and Dick gapes at the fond tone in his voice.
“How?” he stammers — they should barely know each other. “When?”
Jason tucks Danny into his side, angle a bit awkward, but grinning as he ruffles his hair.
“You missed a lot, sleeping beauty,” Jason jests and Dick groans.
“I was only asleep for 1 hour!” he bemoans.
“Two,” Danny corrects and Dick glares at him, raising a finger.
“Don’t you two dare gang up on me!”
“This is sweet revenge for when you and Jazz teamed up against me,” Danny grins.
“We were literally trying to help you!” Dick complains, shoving Danny’s face away as the boy cackles, Jason watching on with amusement.
Dick might have to leave Ric Fenton behind for good now that his two worlds have collided, but maybe he can still be Richard “Dick” Grayson-Fenton instead.
Behold, the hidden gem in the comments-
Headcanon: The ghost yeti’s have special little paw pads that muffle their footsteps and held them stand on snow. They’re like a lynx— their toes spread out when they step. This way, they don’t sink in the snow very much.
This is why Frostbite didn’t expect Danny to straight up vanish when he landed on the snow.
I share more glorious Cat-Danny with you, my friends.
It starts during patrol.
At first, Tim barely notices the small, white blur with eerily green eyes trailing behind him as he scales rooftops and darts through alleys. Gotham’s stray population is no joke, so he figures it’s just another cat—until it keeps happening. Night after night, the same cat follows him like a shadow, no matter how far or fast he goes.
He tries to lose it, but somehow, it always finds him. And soon, he realizes the cat isn’t just following him—it’s helping.
One night, the cat leaps from a rooftop and claws a mugger who’s sneaking up behind Tim. Another night, it leads him to a drug deal in progress, meowing insistently until Tim follows.
It’s eerie how good the cat is at finding trouble, but it’s also undeniably useful. Tim names it Phantom, mostly because of its hauntingly white fur and the way it moves like a ghost in the shadows.
He’s not ready to admit that he’s started looking for the cat on patrol, waiting for it to show up like some unofficial partner.
———
Then Phantom starts showing up at Tim’s apartment.
The first time, Tim finds the cat sitting on his fire escape, staring at him through the window. He brushes it off as coincidence. But then it happens again. And again. Every night, Phantom is there, waiting.
Tim tries ignoring it, but Phantom doesn’t scratch or meow—it just stares, patient and expectant.
Eventually, Tim gives in and lets the cat inside. Phantom struts in like he owns the place, jumps onto Tim’s desk, and curls up right on top of his notes.
“Guess I have a cat now,” Tim mutters, scratching behind Phantom’s ears.
Phantom quickly becomes a fixture in Tim’s life.
He lounges on Tim’s lap during stakeouts, naps on his keyboard, and somehow always knows when Tim needs a break. Phantom is weird, though. His movements are too precise, too deliberate, and sometimes Tim swears he’s glowing faintly green.
But Tim doesn’t question it too much. Phantom’s good company, and Gotham’s seen stranger things.
———
The family eventually notices Phantom soon enough.
“You adopted a stray?” Dick asks when he visits Tim’s apartment. He crouches to pet the cat, who immediately swats at him. Dick recoils, laughing. “Okay, wow. Even the cat thinks I’m beneath him.”
“He doesn't seem to like new people,” Tim mutters, watching Phantom hop onto his desk like nothing happened.
Steph is obsessed. “He’s adorable! Can I post him?” she asks, taking a hundred photos of Phantom lounging on Tim’s keyboard. “He’s like your spooky little sidekick.”
Jason, on the other hand, has a reaction.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” Jason yells the first time he sees Phantom.
Tim frowns. “It’s a cat, Jason. Calm down.”
“No, it’s not! That thing is glowing green, Tim! It’s haunted or radioactive or something!”
Tim rolls his eyes. “He’s just a cat.”
Jason isn’t convinced, but Phantom doesn’t care. He just glares at Jason like he’s the dumbest person in the room and stretches out on the couch.
Damian, though, reacts... differently.
The second Damian sees Phantom, he freezes.
“This cat,” Damian says, voice trembling with reverence, “is extraordinary.”
Tim barely has time to blink before Damian has his hands full of silk-lined cat beds, imported food, and custom collars engraved with “Phantom, the Great.”
“He’s my cat, Damian,” Tim says when Damian tries to scold him for not brushing Phantom’s fur properly.
“You are unworthy of him, Drake,” Damian snaps. “This is a creature of unmatched perfection, and you’re treating him like a common house pet.”
Tim sighs, but Phantom climbs into his lap and starts purring loudly. Damian looks betrayed.
“Traitor,” Damian mutters at Phantom, who clearly doesn’t care.
———
But Phantom isn’t just a cat.
Danny Fenton—currently stuck in his ghost form as a cat and unable to shift back—has been following Tim for weeks, hoping the smartest Bat could help him figure out how to fix his situation.
At first, it was desperation. Danny didn’t know how to communicate with Tim or explain what had happened to him. But then Tim let him in, fed him, and started treating him with such quiet care that Danny couldn’t bring himself to reveal the truth.
Phantom became his escape. For the first time in ages, Danny didn’t have to fight or run or worry about anyone discovering his secrets. He could just... exist.
And, okay, messing with the family was a bonus.
Danny knew he couldn’t stay a cat forever, but with the way Tim scratched behind his ears and muttered soft compliments, he thought, Maybe I can stay like this for a little longer.
Or maybe a lot longer. Phantom had a good thing going, after all.
Help, this is way funnier than it should be-
While trying to figure out how the ghost transformation works, for half-ghosts...
Hey, probably the "sparkle" from where the luminous circles come is where the core of a ghost is situated! Halfa's powers come from there!
*checking the first transformation scene from Vlad*
The core is stored in... the core is... ??? Okay, nice. Good to know.
yes, just yes
A lot of Dead on Main fics have Danny and Jason get together over some form of violence and have it be how ghost courtship works.
Sometimes it's kicking someone's ass. Sometimes it's kicking ass on their behalf. Sometimes it's about making a point of showing off your ass-kicking skills in front of them.
It's all fun. It's all valid.
But what if, hear me out, it was not a ghost courtship thing but was a Fenton courtship thing.
How many times has Jack Fenton said "Man that's hot" in response to Maddie kicking ass?
Do you see my vision?
Jason going on a rampage when his enemies kidnap Danny. Danny swooning so hard it takes him a minute to remember how to phase the restraints off. Then he bounds over to fight by his boyfriend's side with a big, lovestruck grin with just a hint of viciousness.
Both of them showing off their combat skills for the other to admire.
At some point, someone asks if it's a ghost thing, and One of the Fentons replies "no, that's just how hotness works," at the same that a ghost replies "no, they're just like that."
Imagine a universe where Jazz's first crush was on the one other kid in her karate class who could best her as often as she beat them.
Imagine the Fentons having a colorful history of falling in love on battlefields and in underground fighting rings.
An absolute must share. I hope someone continues this 👀
The world is dying.
The GIW shot a nuke into the Ghost Zone, and now the world is paying for it.
Amity, however, is lasting the longest due to already being contaminated with Ecto.
Dash has an insanely dumb idea to save it.
Danny is just desperate enough to try it.
He manages to use a horrifying amalgamation of tech, time amulets, and magic bullshittery to actually move the city of Amity Park to a different dimension.
It, the entire city, has just crash landed (upright but crooked) a few miles down the road from Smallville.
Summary; Clark's pretty sure the new intern, Samantha Manson, is secretly a Kryptonian.
But this isn't about him.
This is about Sam and her new, more interesting than Danny coworker; Jimmy Olsen.
~~~~~~
It was Sam’s first day as an Intern at the Daily Planet, and she’d found someone very interesting.
"Who is...Jimmy Olsen. What is Jimmy Olsen?" Sam muttered into her recorder as she watched the man in question hang upside down from a thirteenth story window, just to take a good picture of...something. A bird or a plane or someshit.
"I hypothesize that the man is a freak," she continued, turning around and missing the bird-plane streak by in a blur of red and blue, "A level of freak I intend to meet."
~~~~~~
Jimmy had four arms now, as well as terrifying mandibles and way too many eyes.
Sam diligently took notes, making sure to translate his horrified, garbled screams as well as she could.
Unfortunately, Superman swept in and managed to nab the mad scientist and douse Jimmy in the cure at pretty much the same time.
~~~~~~
Sam was using her strength, as a human so contaminated with Ecto she was liminal, to hold Jimmy Olsen in the air by the ankle with one hand. The other hand? Was punching aliens in the face and yanking their weapons out of their hands.
Not that he was aware she was doing that, because he was so distracted with getting the perfect camera shot of the alien invaders of the week that he’d missed the one’s trying to sneak up on him.
Honestly, most of Sam’s concentration was on not squeezing her hand.
She didn’t want to break any bones, after all.
It was right as that thought passed her mind that Superman appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and scared the shit out of her, resulting in…her squeezing her hand.
Jimmy was in a cast for far longer than it took her or anyone else from Amity to recover from something as small as a broken bone.
~~~~~~
It was Tuesday, and true to form, Jimmy had been kidnapped.
Sam, as she had the past seven Tuesdays, made sure she was taken along for the ride. She’d even had to knock out the teeth of the head kidnapper to convince them that, as most people already knew, ignoring Samantha Manson was a terrible idea.
The kidnappers had let her in the van, refusing to meet her eyes. When she insisted they tie up her wrists, a few of them started crying, so she didn’t push it.
The entire drive to the typical decrepit warehouse, the kidnappers kept looking back at her and flinching.
Wussies.
But she could put up with them being babies; as long as she got to study the enigma that was Jimmy, it was fine.
What wasn’t fine was the fact that when Superman swept in to save Jimmy Olsen again, the kidnappers pointed at Sam and said she’d kidnapped them.
“I only knocked out a few teeth, so what? They’ll grow back, it’s not a big-!”
“Oh, I get it now. No. No, Miss Manson, human adult teeth don’t grow back.” Superman said gently, going from aggressively confused to pitying.
Sam broke her hand on his jaw in response; she hated people pitying her. Also, she was more than a little embarrassed that she’d forgotten non-liminal people were slightly limited in the amount of teeth they could have.
Her hand healed in the normal amount of time for a person from Amity Park; two whole days.
~~~~~~
Jimmy was looking at her over their desks, trying to be sly about it.
Sam was pretending not to notice, slowly growing more and more annoyed.
“...Is there a problem?” She finally asked, slowly looking up to meet Jimmy’s eyes.
“How did you not shatter your hand when you punched Superman? Why do you think ‘human’ teeth grow back?” Jimmy responded, almost like those questions had been waiting on the tip of his tongue for who knew how long.
“I didn’t shatter my hand because I wasn’t actually trying to hurt him, and the other one…I made a mistake.”
Jimmy hesitated, pursing his lips and seeming to take a moment to think.
“So…if you tried to punch Superman, and you meant to hurt him, do you think you actually could?”
Sam leaned back in her chair, giving the question some thought.
Superman was notorious for being weak to magic, and liminality was just another form of death magic. Granted, it was a form of death magic so strong it mutated the living, but magic was magic.
“First off, I don’t fight for a living,” Sam started, shrugging; her days as one of Team Phantom were long past. “I used to, but I don’t anymore, so I’m not as…fighty, I guess, as Superman. But I could probably give him a black eye, if he was nice enough to let the punch land after letting me wind up.”
“Oh.” Jimmy said, voice slightly higher than normal. “Well alright then.”
“Yup.”
“So where are you from again?”
“Classified.”
~~~~~~
Jimmy, true to Jimmy form, had a new…situation.
It was Friday, and apparently he was being possessed by a minor god.
A minor god that was not cooperating.
“It’s a simple series of questions, and I realy don’t know why you’re fighting me on this.” Sam groaned, valiantly resisting the urge to throw her notepad at possessed Jimmy’s head.
“Please. I just want to go back to my realm, I won’t bother people in this one anymore, I just-”
“What are you the god of? What is your name? What was the purpose of possessing Jimmy Olsen? Why did you target Jimmy Olsen?” Sam reiterated, as she had been for the past seven hours. “Is Jimmy Olsen a beacon of some sort? Is there a curse on JImmy Olsen?”
Sam paused, a new thought occurring to her with such suddenness she gasped.
“Wait, is…is this an attempt to woo Jimmy Olsen?!”
“Please. Please just let me go!”
“Just answer the questions or I start pulling fingernails!”
“If you torture me in this form, the boy will also suffer!”
“First off, he’s a grownass man. Second, he’s a freak so he’ll be fine. Probably. Fingernails grow back anyways, it’s barely a pinch for humans, it doesn't hurt at all.”
“Miss Manson, please don’t refer to Mister Olsen as a freak. Also, you’re getting confused about human limitations again.” Superman added politely, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“No, I’m not! I googled it! Human fingernails grow back!” Sam spat, shrugging out from under the Man of Steel’s grip.
“Ma’am, your misjudging human limitations concerning pain.” Superman explained, strained but patient.
Sam paused.
Sam took a moment to remember two days ago, when Perry bumped his foot into one of the desks and spent a whole hour cursing.
All that just for a broken pinky toe.
“...Fine. You…might have a point.”
~~~~~~
The GIW sat across from Sam in a meeting room at the Daily Planet.
Apparently, dodging her court-mandated meeting with them by not going to her apartment just meant they’d turn up at her place of work.
Charming.
“And you’ve intruded on my basic rights because…?” Sam started the meeting, unimpressed.
“We have been trying to reach you for mandatory debrief for the past three months, Miss Manson. You know why.” Agent Tweedledee said, deadpan.
“Ugh. No, I haven’t told anyone where I’m from. No, I haven’t used my powers in front of anyone. No, I haven’t broken any of your stupid, nonsensical rules.” Sam droned, tallying each point with a finger.
“Interesting. Our sources say they caught you…holding a grown man upside down with one hand.” Agent Tweedledee countered, also looking as bored as Sam felt.
Sam said nothing, continuing to stare at the agents.
“After which you crushed his ankle,” Agent Tweedledum added, pushing a folder with Jimmy Olsen’s X-Rays towards her.
“I don’t think you having these X-Rays is HIPAA compliant,” Sam said, pushing them back.
“I don’t think you understand how big of a security risk having you, any of you, blending in with normal humans is,” Agent Tweedledum said, pushing them right back at her. “And if this is how you’re going to try to ‘blend in’, then maybe we need to pull this initiative back. What’s next, casually flying to reach something on a tall shelf?”
“Indeed,” Agent Tweedledee said, leaning forward to get in Sam’s face. “Perhaps it would be better if the lockdown was re-initiated. An entire town of people like you…it’s too dangerous to just let you wander-”
“Excuse me!” Clark Kent said, popping his head into the meeting room. Sam took a brief moment to clock that his eyes were glowing a little reddish, but otherwise he seemed normal.
Stressed, but normal.
“You are intruding-”
“I was just wondering if you had a warrant?” Kent cut in, blinking his eyes and readjusting his glasses. When he was done, the red had faded.
The agents paused, looking at each other.
“We don’t need one.” Agent Tweedledee said, deftly sweeping the folder full of X-Rays closed.
“Actually, you do,” an entirely new voice joined the fray, and some man who reeked of money walked in. He was wearing a stupidly expensive suit, and looked incredibly windswept for some reason.
Sam hated him on principle.
The Agents also seemed to hate him on principle, if how they started packing up was any indication.
“Hello, my name is Bruce Wayne, and I own the Daily Planet,” Bruce Wayne said, all fake smiles and fake cheer. “That makes this private property.”
“We have a government ordinance-”
“My private property,” Bruce Wayne interrupted, stopped a mere few inches away from the now standing Agent Tweedledee. “You don’t have a warrant. Get out.”
Sam stayed seated, eyeing the proceedings.
Contrary to what she expected though, instead of pulling out guns and threatening people, the Agents just walked around Bruce Wayne and started for the door.
“If Miss Manson goes missing?” She heard Clark Kent mutter to them as they passed, “We will post her name everywhere we can, as well as pictures of your faces.”
“What pictures?” Agent Tweedledum asked, right before a camera flash blinded the man.
“These pictures. Leave Miss Manson alone!” Jimmy spat, darting out of reach.
Past him, the entire office was full of silent reporters, standing and watching the agents.
“If they ever contact you again, or violate your rights again, call me,” Bruce Wayne muttered, handing her a card.
~~~~~~
Jimmy had become telekinetic. Somehow.
They’d been interviewing some scientist new to Metropolis, Sam had turned her back on him for all of four minutes, and when she turned around he was two feet off the ground, surrounded by random objects.
Honestly she hadn’t even been aware there’d been anything that could mess with humans in the lab, so she had no idea what he’d touched.
The scientist was rambling about how his invention worked, and that all he would need to do was initiate Jimmy’s ‘inner power’ to create a bomb so destructive even Superman couldn’t stop it.
Which proved her initial suspicions that he was an evil scientist, and surprised her not at all.
Sam calmly reached out and grabbed the scientist by the throat, cutting off his air supply.
“Shhh. Shut up. No more words from you. Jimmy, I have some questions, please cooperate.”
Superman didn’t even take four minutes to show up for that one.
Apparently, Superman gave Jimmy a button for when Sam ‘forgot how human limitations worked’.
She was confused, as she hadn’t even touched Jimmy, but then Superman had gently pried her fingers off of the mad scientist's neck. Who was unconscious.
Oh.
Right.
Humans, ones that weren’t tainted with Ecto, couldn’t go that long without oxygen.
~~~~~~
“It was self defense, I swear!” Sam shouted into the phone, running through the streets.
“What was self defense?!” Bruce Wayne shouted back, noises from his side of the call indicating he was scrambling for something.
“They had cuffs and a gun! I grabbed a thing and stabbed one of them with it and probably broke the other one!” Sam took a turn, dodging into an alleyway to buy more time as she outran the GIW unit trying to chase her down.
“Broke the other one’s what?!”
“I don’t know! It made a crunching sound and he started throwing up!”
“Miss Manson, there’s no way I can get there on time. Can you shout for Superman?”
“I tried, he isn’t here or someth-” Sam was cut off as a hand shot out from one of the doorways and yanked her inside.
Or, they tried to.
Sam snarled, turning and raising her fist…only to be met with the face of Jimmy Olsen.
“In here! Quickly!” He whispered, tugging at her arm again.
Sam jumped to follow, the door shutting behind her with a soundless click.
Four minutes later, a stampede of footsteps went past, not even slowing down to consider the door.
Panting, she took a moment to look around.
It was…the weirdest basement she’d ever seen. There were broken cameras hanging from the ceiling, rows of film cartridges lining metal shelves, and a glowing lock on the door she’d just been dragged through.
Most concerning was the Ghostspeak written on the glowing lock. Sure, it was in a weird dialect, but she’d recognize it anywhere.
“...Jimmy, tell me honestly. Are you in a cult?” Sam asked, still catching her breath.
“No? This is just one of my safespots. Superman helped me outfit it, because I…uh…”
“Get kidnapped or targeted at least three times a month. Understandable.” Sam finally noticed the shouting coming from her phone and put it up to her ear. “I’m fine; Jimmy has a safehouse or something, and apparently they can’t track me while I’m in it.”
“My lawyers are already on their way to the Daily Planet. Stay where you are, we’ll sort this out.”
~~~~~~
Bruce Wayne’s lawyers were, evidently, terrifyingly competent.
Sam Manson and all Amity Parkers who were allowed to leave for the experimental integration process no longer had to debrief.
They got social workers. They had rights. They were put into contact with the Office for Extraterrestrial Immigration.
The GIW backed off.
From what Tucker told her, still tucked away in Amity, the choices the GIW had were to either concede to those stipulations, or reveal the existence of Amity and its people.
Granted, Tucker had already spread the news that Amity Parkers were guaranteed rights outside of Amity, and that the GIW couldn't legally do anything about it. There were already people planning to escape.
Tucker, in fact, wanted to know if Sam could use a couple of roommates.
~~~~~~
“This is a ‘fork’; it is a utensil used for foods that are not liquid.” Clark Kent said seriously, half leaned over his desk and slowly showing off a plastic fork.
Sam stared at the fork, unimpressed.
“And this? This is an ‘elbow’. On humans, they’re only supposed to bend like this,” the man said, using his own elbow as an example. “They don’t bend any other way. Please. Please remember that.”
Sam raised an eyebrow.
“‘Eyes’ are very important to humans, and they do not grow back or heal very well when impaled.”
Sam was officially bored.
“Now, ‘forks’ are not supposed to go into ‘eyes’,” Clark advised, holding the fork exaggeratedly far away from his face.
Lois, walking by, rolled her eyes.
“Gods forbid women do anything,” she muttered.
~~~~~~
“<<Woah. And you’re sure he’s not one of us?>>” Tucker asked, flipping through Sam’s ‘Jimmy Notepad’. They were taking a break from moving in, and Sam was excited to show them her Jimmy Notes.
“<<Completely.>>”
“<<Nah, he’s gotta at least be like Wes,>>” Danny disagreed, reaching out to go back a few pages and fully placing his weight against Tucker.
“<<Nope, his bones heal super slow and he can’t even regrow any teeth. Superman said so.>>”
“<<Bullshit! Look here, he clearly shapeshifted! Normal humans can’t do that!>>” Tucker said, jabbing his finger into her notebook with enough force that he almost poked a hole in it.
“<<Hey! Don’t ruin my stuff!>>”
“<<Guys c’mon, the buildings here are super delicate, we shouldn’t fight!>>”
“<<Foods here!>>” Clark Kent interrupted, sticking his head in the living room.
Sam, Danny, and Tucker all turned as one to head for the kitchen.
“<<...Wait, he wasn’t speaking English.>>” Danny muttered, pausing.
“<<I mean, neither were we?>>” Tucker asked, shrugging.
“<<Jimmy! Did you pick up my eggplant sandwich?>>” Sam shouted, shoving past her boys and into the kitchen.
Jimmy froze like a deer in headlights.
“Uh. I don’t know what you just…?”
“She’s asking if you remembered to pick up her eggplant sandwich,” Clark’s son, Jon, said as he dug through one of the bags.
“Oh! Yeah, of course.”
Sam decided that the Kents being able to speak Ghostspeak wasn’t really any of her business.
After all, Jimmy Olsen was far more interesting to study than them.
~~~~~~
“It’s Tuesday.” Sam grumbled, her foot tapping on the ground.
“Yes, it is.” Jimmy agreed, not seeming to pay attention.
“Where are they?” Sam asked, looking for the kidnappers that were supposed to show up.
“The numbers of attempted kidnappings have gone down because any group that would try is…well, they’re terrified of you.” Jimmy said, deliberately looking anywhere but at Sam.
Sam nodded, taking out her Jimmy Notepad.
His odd powers of luck seemed to be easily circumvented by just a few threats to outside sources. Interesting. So if she left, would his weird luck powers kick in again?
“I’m gonna leave for a few hours.” Sam said, standing up.
“It’s crunch time, Perry would kill you, and also that won’t work.” Jimmy droned, starting to sound bored.
“...Hey Jimmy, if I give you twenty bucks, would you go take pictures of a weird cult I heard about?”
“Miss Manson, no!” Clark Kent shouted from the other side of the newsroom. “I don’t know what you’re trying to convince Jimmy to do, but stop!”
~~~~~~
“I wanna fight Superman,” Danny said, staring up at the man in question as he fought off yet another super-powered bad guy.
“Please don’t do that while you’re holding onto me,” Jimmy asked politely, still taking pictures of the fight as Danny held him off the edge of a building.
“I’m Jimmy’s coworker,” Sam hissed, glaring at Danny. She was the one who helped Jimmy get into weird and concerning places for good photos, not Danny!
Danny smiled smugly at her, not putting the wayward photographer down at all.
“Yeah, but you broke both your arms blocking a punch, so nyeh.”
“They aren’t even compound fractures! The bones are still in place, they’ll heal in a couple of hours!”
“It hasn’t been a couple of hours though?” Tucker asked, briefly looking up from his phone.
Sam kicked him.
He kicked her back.
Neither noticed when Jimmy’s photos went from taking pictures of Superman’s fight to taking photos of their play fight.
~~~~~~
“Sam. Hey. Sam.”
Sam groaned and tilted her head back.
“What?”
“I don’t know what you are but…you can just break out of here, right?” Jimmy whispered, keeping himself between her and Lois, and the Big Bad Evil Guys of the month.
“I’m human, though?”
“I doubt that, though?”
“You’re so rude.”
“I’m so sorry that my concern for you is making me more to the point.”
Sam tried to make a comeback, but the low, pulsing green light of those stupid rocks seemed to magnify her headache. Those rocks sounded like millions of people screaming, and the emotional drain connected to them was really messing with her.
It took all of her concentration not to throw up, let alone get into a pseudo-argument with Jimmy.
“Whatever. What is that glowing green shit they have?”
“...It’s…it’s kryptonite. Uh…Sam? Hey, quick question, but are you…?”
“Not now Jimmy, I have a migraine bad enough to warrant murder.”
“I think we’re gonna have to figure this one out without Sam, Jimmy,” Lois muttered, already halfway out of her restraints.
“But she’s gonna be okay, right?” Jimmy whispered, tense against Sam’s back.
“She’ll be fine the faster we can get the Kryptonite away. Now, Jimmy, move!”
~~~~~~
“How long was she exposed?” A voice asked, adding to Sam’s headache.
“An hour? Maybe two?” Jimmy’s voice said, winded.
“Her color already looks better, Kal. I think she just needs to sleep it off.” Lois voice added, accompanied by someone brushing her hair out of her face.
“We need to keep an eye on-”
Sam interrupted Superman by throwing up on him.
He’d spoken long enough, anyways. It was time for blessed silence.
~~~~~~
Sam woke up in her own bed, with a very excited Danny barely able to contain himself next to her.
Apparently, Superman had shown up to drop her off, and Danny had misunderstood the situation.
Danny had actually gotten to fight Superman.
And even though Danny tried to downplay certain crucial parts of it, Tucker filled in what he was cutting out; Danny had gotten his ass handed to him.
Not before he’d broken the Man of Steel’s nose, though.
Which the halfa was very proud of.
“Kinda gross that he was covered in throw-up, though,” Danny conceded after a few hours, nose wrinkled. “Oh yeah; your Jimmy is in the living room, asleep.”
“On the couch, right?” Sam asked, still annoyed by remnants of her headache.
“...I mean. I was using the couch, so…” Tucker muttered, defensive.
“You didn’t make the squishy, normal human with normal human bones and normal human joints sleep on the floor, right?”
Danny coughed slightly, standing up.
“I’ll go put him on the couch.”
“Daniel James Fenton you better be careful, he’s delicate!”
~~~~~~
Sam was forced to take that back when she went over the security footage Tucker had gathered.
Jimmy Olsen had carried her through an enemy compound on his back, gotten into multiple fights at a clear disadvantage, and even made various pit stops to check Sam’s pulse and breathing.
With a deep sigh, she pulled out her Jimmy Notepad again.
“Why does he always disprove my theories and then add just as many new ones?”
~~~~~~
Jimmy was speaking the most mangled form of ghostspeak Sam had ever heard in her life.
“...You want to lick all the blue pebbles?” Sam translated for him into English.
Jimmy groaned, burying his face in his hands.
“Nevermind. I’m just…really bad at learning new languages.” He sighed, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Superman really tried to teach me but…”
“What were you trying to say?”
“...’What kind of coffee do you want?’.”
"<<What kind of coffee do you want?>> is how you're supposed to pronounce that."
Jimmy tried to repeat it. Tried.
What came out was…well.
Sam felt her jaw drop along with the papers she was holding, rage building at the insult that just left Jimmy’s mouth.
Across the room, Clark Kent broke into a coughing fit so bad he was almost gagging.
“I messed it up again, didn’t I?”
“I think you should go get coffee. Away from me. For about an hour or two.”
“What did I say?!”
Omni’s contributions are amazing and I eagerly await hopefully another part or an AO3 fic. But you should also go check out the other reblogs as they’re all just as fun and wholesome. 🥰
When Lex took Clark's DNA to make a clone, none of his scientists could make it work.
Failure after failure after failure, until finally one of them went to an old lab they used to work at. It had been falling into ruin, mostly empty due to layoffs. The government agency that had been in charge of it had been long disbanded w/ the meta protections that had been signed into law.
So it was rather easy to get in; no one had bothered to cancel this scientists credentials.
There was a specimen, permanently asleep thanks to layers upon layers of security; the first metahumans ever recorded.
Phantom, Plasmius, and Phantasm.
They took Phantom's DNA, as he looked most like Superman, and snuck it back to Lex's labs, and it worked perfectly.
And thus, Conner was born/made.
Everyone used the altered report that the group of scientists made to say he was Superman's clone.
Until, after the dust has settled and Conner died and came back, he has another DNA test run.
His other donor is not Superman at all.
His other donor's information was under layer upon layer of high tech security, and breaking through them resulted in the American Government making baseless threats against the Justice League.
But with Oracle, Cyborg, and Red Robin's help, he found out who it was.
His real donor/father was deep underground, trapped in a lab, and unable to escape.
He leaks the information to the press, and suddenly everyone knows about the first metahumans and what happened to them. What was still happening to them. How most of the worlds insane advances in technology and medicine was due to human experimentation on them.
Now the American Government is trying to calm down the public, and claiming they had no idea what was going on.
Danny wakes up, disoriented, slumped in the arms of an extremely worried teenager that keeps calling him "dad".
His response, while waking up and confused?
"Alright, don't mind kids anyways. Ellie'll be thrilled."
He really does not expect the teen to burst into tears.
For the purpose of the AU, I was imagining Danny as in his mid thirties before he was tricked by the GIW and trapped.
you should definitely follow the link to the other thread, it’s just as hilarious. If I laugh much more, I might just die from lack of oxygen. 😂
Tim was four days into a sleep deficit so he felt that to say that this predicament was his fault was a bit of a reach.
For it to be his fault he would have had to cognizant of the last 16 hours.
All he wanted to do was take a power nap in the nearest closest durring the Waynetech gala but nooo Bruce had to be taken hostage by the Joker.
So he did what he thought would work best and shoved uncle Clark into the nearest emergency bat storage and told him to suit up.
Maybe he looked a bit more confused than normal but they didn’t need a reporter they needed Batman!
That being said wasn’t uncle Clark supposed to be off-world?
Oh no.
———————
Jack honestly had no clue what was happening for the last six months so when he was told to be Batman he merely just shrugged as the frankly exhausted teen left him to his own.
With his son turning out to be part ghost to the government hunting down his said son and having to move shop halfway across the continent.
This might as well happen.
Grinning like a kid on Christmas, Jack plopped on the finishing touch.
“Oh Danno is not going to believe this!”
Raising a cloaked arm with a flourish Jack struck a pose.
“Alrighty Jack enough messing around! Time to save the party, Fenton style!
Shifting his feet, Jack took a deep breath before smoothing his face the best he could. After all, couldn’t have a smiling Batman! Before walking out the room and taking running leap through the wall to the streets of Gotham before grappling to the nearest building.
i desperately need this now-
Somebody has probably thought of this already, but dpxgf crossover where the casper high kids go to gravity falls for a field trip, and as soon as they get there they're setting off ford and dippers "That's not human" senses, but neither can figure out what's wrong with these kids until the class tries to leave and none of them can because of weirdness barrier- so now the entire class of liminals (+danny as a halfa) are freaking out, because they were only meant to be away for like a week and after the giw their parents will freak out if the class doesn't get home soon, shenanigans ensue with the amity parkers, but the pines family can not figure out what's wrong with these kids to save their life, because ghosts have just never appeared in gravity falls before, and it's driving dipper and ford mad trying to figure everything out while the amity parkers are actively messing with them because if their stranded here, might as well have fun, right?
continuation from a separate post thread (Danny is Bruce’s clone). Op said the old post got too long, so they made a new one. Had to share the new story. ☺️
The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.
Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.
🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶
🎶long before- it begins🎶
The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.
"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.
"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."
"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.
Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"
"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.
"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"
"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."
Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.
Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.
"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"
"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."
Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."
As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.
"Alfred?"
"W, what?"
"Are you OK?"
Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.
"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"
"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.
Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.
By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?
At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.
"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"
"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."
The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.
He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.
He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.
Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.
"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???
"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.
"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"
yes please, to all of this. Can someone write this?
Lex Luthor after years of r&d stumbles upon ectoplasm. He then uses this experimental fuel source to power his machines for years.
The GIW gets wind of this, the GIW who currently have both Jazz and Danny in containment after Maddie and Jack handed them over.
Lex finds these two children and for a moment he’s back in his childhood, remembering his father. His horrible drunkard of a father, and he sees red. When he calms down the GIW base is nothing more than a smoking crater and he is carrying the two children.
reblogging because, yesss
Actually writing something based off of this post. Y'all really seemed to like it and I got scared LOLOL
(How it will probably go (written poorly written cause it's almost 7AM and I haven't slept yet) . Also I have no idea what I'm doing. This will be rewritten better in a fic maybe.)
Jason sighed as he made his way into Gotham University's gym. It was the middle of the day and Jason was there at a Startup Event posing as a guy who was interested in what people had to offer. He had only had maybe a total of four hours of sleep since he had patrol the night before. Granted, this wouldn't have affected him as much if he was more mentally prepared to be awake. The only reason why he's out here was because Bruce had woken him up an hour ago to tell him a little last minute about what he needed to do today. Originally, the plan was to do absolutely nothing. But now he has to investigate a guy that Bruce had his eye on as of lately.
The person he's looking for is a man named Danny Nightingale. Apparently he's been in Gotham for a couple years and only recently started making a mess of things. How it went under Bruce's nose is beyond him considering how freaked out Bruce was once he did find out.
Apparently, the guy has been making life changing machines. Little mechanical bees have been flying around Gotham really just sucking up all the pollution in the air and just depositing it somewhere. According to the media, they go back to some headquarters and into a bee hive looking structure to deposit all the pollution and sludge. From the photos shown, it's actually pretty impressive. Some guy actually making a change around here.
For Bruce- no. For Batman, this is just highly suspicious. Why would some guy make these positive life changing machines? For the better? No. No genius with the power to change the world would do it for the better. There's got to be some ulterior motive behind it.
At least, that's what Batman thinks.
Jason thinks it's all interesting. Maybe there is an ulterior motive but even then, at a scale so large that it's literally affecting the city in a positive way? You've got to be literally more insane than the Joker if you wanted to plaster your face everywhere at an event like this. Everyone else at this event seemed to show promise but compared to Danny Nightingale's company? They're literally all small fry.
Surprisingly enough, however, no one else seems to be at Danny's booth. Not even Danny. Jason frowned as he approached the booth and just looked at the machines on them. The Bees are kind of just flying in place and the moment that Jason even looked at them, the Bees immediately got to work. They flew around him like a puppy with wings, nuzzling against him and bumping into him so dumbly. And honestly?
It was actually kind of cute. You would think that being on such little hours of sleep and being grumpy the whole morning would really affect the pits inside him but no. He's surprisingly calm.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! They don't usually act like this," a voice stuttered out. A man hastily walked towards Jason as he gently plucked the Bees out of the air and brought it close to him.
"Uh, don't worry about it. I thought it was kind of..." Jason trailed out before locking eyes with the man who spoke.
This was Danny Nightingale. He was much shorter than Jason, only standing tall at 5' 5". His hair was fully black with only a white money piece right on his bangs. And his eyes? An alluring blue with only a hint of green at the center of his eyes. Honestly, the sight of Danny just about took Jason's breath away.
There was a subtle glow to him, almost making Jason think of there being some sort of meta activity going on but looking around the people in the area, no one but him seems to notice. Danny was concerned about Jason, that much is obvious. The way his eyes burrowed in concern then into confusion. It's strange why just looking at him made Jason's heart skip a beat, even though in hindsight, Danny looks much worse off than Jason.
That man looks like he hasn't slept in 3 weeks. But even then he was...
"Cute..." Jason finally finished his sentence a little too late.
Danny blinked in confusion, tilting his head to the side. His bangs fall freely over his eyes. Just the sight of that almost made Jason blush. "My bees were cute?" Danny spoke, the tone of his voice (very tired) sounded like a sweet harmony in Jason's ears. "Oh! You're interested in Nightech? No one else seems to be interested in my stuff yet. I can tell you all about this company and how it works? I put in a lot of work and love into these little guys and I'm sure you would love them too!"
Blah blah blah. Proper name. Place name. Backstory stuff.
Nothing of what Danny is saying is registering in Jason's brain right now. Maybe some. ("I... Love... You...")
"I love you too!!" Jason blurted out.
Danny blinked before widening his eyes. "Wh-What...?" There was that look of concern again but now there's another look. Recognition...
Whatever. None of that right now. This is embarrassing!
"I-I said I love your company. Uh. Do you have a business card? I can let Bruce Wayne know about this."
Wordlessly, Danny gave an information card to Jason before that poor brick of a man just ran out of there, not once even looking back. Honestly, from the way it's playing out in Jason's head right now, he feels like a princess running away from her prince at the stroke of midnight. The earpiece crackled before a voice started to speak.
"Jason? What the hell was that?" Bruce's voice questioned.
It was only when Jason left the gymnasium that he answered, "Me digging my own grave for the second time, old man. Let me go die in peace."
"No, no," Dick's voice chimed in, "Only after we replay that very short conversation about 50,000 times. Thank you very much."
Jason only groaned in response.
Danny, back in the gymnasium, only stared at the door that Jason left from in horror. The only way for people to react that way to him like that is for them to be dead or liminal. Now he has to figure out a way to tell Bruce Wayne that this person that he seems to know is a little bit dead!
This actually is a part of whatever the fuck I'm writing. I'm still thinking of a fic name. But all of the random posts go together in some way.
go read the reblogs, there are a couple different threads, and they’re all crack-shit hilarious 😂
The Fenton "Boor"
The Fentons have always been famous for their legal sale of weapons, usually based on ectoplasm and used to hunt ghosts. That's where they got most of their funds, whether it was to finance new inventions, their laboratory, or their children's education.
The problem began when they found out that Phantom was their son. Because of that revelation they accepted that they couldn't continue on the "weapon creator" path, how could they continue to create and sell weapons that help hunt down their baby? Even if they didn't trust all the ghosts Danny changed their perspective of the Infinite Realms and they were more or less at peace.
That is why they debated for hours on what to do to make money again, until they noticed something curious: Most of the people in Amity couldn't get drunk. It was a silly thing to focus on, but thanks to a quick investigation they noticed that after the portal opened no one had made it.
That's the reason they created a new brand of beer "Boor", which affected both ghosts and humans contaminated with ectoplasm. Their business quickly became a success and the beer was exported elsewhere (with many care and prevention labels).
When Jason Todd noticed "Boor" on the shelf at the bar he frequented, he snorted. The beer had a small ghost on the bottle, which caught his attention, he ordered it out of curiosity and when the waiter told him that the brand claimed "the product was capable of making even the dead drunk" Jason almost laughed.
Big was his surprise the next day when he woke up on one of Gotham's rooftops with a severe hangover. He had at least 8 missed calls from Nightwing and a bottle with a cartoon ghost in his hand.
Sharing for future reblogs
y'all know those influencers who walk up to people and ask questions?
imagine this, a reporter is asking citizens of Gotham their opinions on the various bats in the city when they stumble across Danny.
sleep deprived and looking it, Danny is not paying attention to the reporter at all.
reporter: "What is your opinion of Red Hood?"
danny, who stayed up all night playing smash or pass with sam and tucker, only hearing red hood: "Smash."
and then danny keeps walking, unaware that he'd just gone viral with only a single word.