a2remedy

Latest Posts by a2remedy

DPxDC Urgent Call

"I need your phone."

Tim looks up from his laptop. The boy in front of him looks like he's been dragged to Hell a week ago and just made it back: smudges of soot on his face, his not-so-white t-shirt smelling of smoke, and a nasty looking burn on his hand that he somehow doesn't even pay attention to. Tim thinks back to his mental list of 'Rogues currently on the loose', but it's only Ivy and Harley (who don't even count anymore), and Penguin, who is not known for setting things on fire.

"I can call 911 for you, if you want?" He offers, because this is still Gotham. Despite the fact that a slightly scorched guy casually walking into a coffee shop is not something out of the ordinary here, he's not giving his phone to strangers.

The guy grimaces and starts aggressively rummaging through his pockets.

"No, thanks, ACAB and all that, and they won't do shit here anyway," he says, and then pulls a handful of tangled golden jewelry — rings, chains, necklaces with various gems in them — from his pocket and places it on the table in front of Tim. "I need your phone," he repeats.

Tim stares. First, at the gold — these things look antique, and his parents were archeologists, he knows what he's talking about — then, back at the guy. He looks... ordinary, sans the dirt and smell.

But the burn on his hand looks significantly more healed than it did just a minute ago.

Thankfully, Tim has already had his cup of morning coffee. Which means he is thinking very rationally when he does get his phone out of his pocket and hands it to the guy, just to see what he does next.

"Thanks," the guy grins at him, plucking the phone out of Tim's hand and unlocking it. Tim's eyebrows shoot up — there's a password there! — but the stranger is already dialing in a number and pressing the phone to his ear.

It takes less than a second before someone evidently picks up, and the guy starts talking.

"I have less than three minutes before the phone dies, so listen very carefully. Etrigan is fine, Jason is not, Klarion is still being a bitch. Dora won't help anymore, so you're on your own until Sam makes it there with the staff. I'm in Gotham because, apparently, mazes and I don't mix well together, so if you could summon me back, that'd be cool," he says, a look of mild annoyance on his face.

Tim is back to staring at him. He recognizes some of the names, and, well, one could have been an oddity, two a coincidence, but three is a pattern.

"The fuck you mean you can't, I gave you the incantation two months ago!" The guy raises his voice, his foot tapping on the floor in frustration. "Do you think I just go around giving my summons to people for shits and giggles? Like, yeah, have a spell that unleashes a cosmic being of immeasurable power, use it as a bookmark!"

This interaction, despite Tim only hearing one side of it, gets more and more alarming with every word.

But then, the boy suddenly straightens up and stills, his eyes flashing bright, unpleasantly familiar green.

"You what?" He asks, his voice slipping from just angry to quietly enraged hiss, "Sold it to whom?!" But, before he gets an answer, Tim's phone makes a thin, tiny buzzing sound, and the guy takes it off his ear, looking at the screen.

"No, no-no-no," he mutters, shaking it like that would make it work. To no avail, though: the phone screen flashes a few times and goes black. The guy curses. At least Tim thinks it's a curse because he doesn't understand a word, but the stranger's face and intonation are telling.

"Useless fucking moron of a human, I swear I'm going to drown you in cow shit once this is over," he switches to English, dropping the phone on the table right by the small pile of gold, "I'll bargain your pathetic soul from everyone you've ever dealt with and give it to the Observants, and maybe, after a few millenia of endless Council paperwork, I'll have mercy and sell it back to Lucifer and watch him fry you on a skillet."

...Whoever the boy is, Tim absolutely refuses to ever piss him off, okay. That's an impressive threat to even make, not to mention being able to go through with it.

"Do you need help?" He asks cautiously. If he is getting his context clues right, this is something that involves JLD, and maybe John Constantine specifically since Tim doesn't know any other man who is a magic user, sold his soul numerous times, would care about Etrigan's wellbeing, and could invoke this kind of murderous intent.

The boy looks back at him, his eyes back to normal blue.

"Huh? Oh, no, I doubt this can be helped," he waves Tim off and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Sorry about the phone, but, unless you have a way to yeet me across the globe so I end up in London in the next twenty minutes..." he shrugs, smiling in that helpless 'nothing you can do here' way.

Tim picks up his phone. It's dead, wholly and completely, won't even turn on when he tries.

He really, really shouldn't do that. This is definitely none of his business, and very much out of his capabilities and area of expertise.

But he thinks about the zeta-tube in the Cave.

"Actually," he says, and the guy's eyes snap back to him, a bewildered sort of surprise on his face.

Aye~!

I'm supposed to be finishing my final's presentation. But my brain cooks the most when I don't want to do something.... a damn shame I need it too...

DPXDC Prompt #10- For the Bit

The sky is red and painted with shrieks of horror as Darkseid’s forces befall the earth. Cities are swiftly becoming ruins in their wake. The majority of the JL have been captured or killed in action. Zatanna is surrounded by Parademons, and John watches on, barely keeping down his bile as he takes a black and green tome out of his coat. He was unsure if he could trust what it was letting him know. Zatanna cast a spell on him to make him flee? If anything, it was powerful to keep his wife’s wards at bay, and that was saying something with how much she wanted to keep him safe. But something-no, someone sees this as the perfect opportunity. All he has to do is act on it and everything will be “smooth sailings”. Pfft, yeah, right. But he doesn’t have another chance. It's follow the script or flip it. The book's magic is straining against what comes next each second he thinks. So, fuck it! Who was he not to bet it all? But did it have to ask for something that was so utterly stupid at a time like this?

He has to do it. All of it. For the bit.

"Despite being ‘at a loss for words’, Danny scolded me for the next 45 minutes."

DCxDP prompt

Dani was completely flawless in everything she did, or so she proudly stated to everyone, which was true to some extent. She handles most of the missions handed to her by the Justice League dark with flying colors, she was sometimes called in to replace Constantine when the man was unavailable, finding lost scrolls, and performing magic she could do with ease, but she was not perfect she knows that well.

So, when she accidentally angered one of the most powerful demons to ever exist dangering not only herself but also the whole embassy of the Justice League, up to the main heroes and then down to Young Justice, Dani knew she kinda fucked up and made an error in her calculations on how much she could taunt the said demon, and now everyone was panicking which was...

Not an ideal condition for her because when everyone panics, she also starts panicking, not because the demon she angered was now spewing threats here and there (which was one of the corniest villain monologues she had ever heard).

No, she was afraid considering that since she had disturbed the peace between the living and the supernatural which was technically the dead if you based it on the horror movie franchise —BUT that was not the point, the point is that she cannot control the current situation, and that means she needed to get help from her....Brother....Eugh.

'Let's just get over this.' she sighed as she grabbed a dagger from her chest cavity, Dani's movements caught the eye of everyone present in the room, the ones that weren't occupied by the demon were watching her carefully to make sure the little ghost doesn't make anything worse than it is.

One, Dani closed her eyes.

Two, she took a deep breath.

Three—then she sliced her palm with the dagger, green ectoplasm oozing out of the wound.

Four. Everyone panicked.

Five. Finally, A portal surfaced.

It took only five seconds for Danny to head her call, exactly 20 minutes to calm the dispute happening, and 7 seconds for Phantom to regain his composure to look at his younger sister in the eye.

Dani avoided eye contact with her brother, not just her brother, while also avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room at the same time, whistling innocently as if nothing had ensued, Dani tried her luck and glanced at the levitating figure a few paces before her.

Phantom looked so done and constipated at the same time, Dani wanted to take a picture and show it to Dan afterwards.

"I'm at a loss for words."

"Despite being ‘at a loss for words’, Danny scolded me for the next 45 minutes."

Actual post-shower thought. Yknow those dpxdc hcs that Danny can eat Kryptonite?

What if that is the sole reason the Kryptonians start to fear Phantom? Like, little guy could be seen as an ancient apex predator of the Kryptonians from long ago before Krypton became more civilized.

He can eat his weakness! LIKE CANDIES!

Since the kid can be seen through different times in history (CW with his little errand boi what can I say?) there are images or mentions of him in the fortress, although very vague ones so they assumed that this fella is a baby tamed version of the real deal.

Or maybe not add the time travel bit and the JL is just jumping on the train of "Holy Canolli this kid's ancestors maybe used to hunt down Kryptonians and fueled themselves by ingesting Kryptonite".

Idk it would be fun to see Hal or Diana messing with the supes or just Superman with Danny like:

DP x DC

Of which Vlad IS related to Bruce

Their Bat-ness must have came from a common ancestor. And that adoption thing.

But anyways.

Imagine Vlad contacting Bruce with his fam out of the blue, asking BRUCIE, HI NICE TO TALK TO YOU AFTER LONG PERIODS OF ABSENCE BUT IVE A QUESTION THAT NEEDS TO BE ANSWERED FOR MY KWN SAKE- how do you get your children to be civil with you???

Bruce: ... I am not aware you adopted kids Vladdie?

Batfam, listening to the conversation: it's cute that Masters tot we're civil to Bruce at all times lol

Vlad: Currently I have my godson with me and he's acting a lot like a combination of your sons in gala disasters.

Bruce: which gala disasters you're talking about? Coz you know we have the Rogues attacking galas aaaaallll the time-

Vlad: you know what I mean, cousin. Richard in the chandeliers, little Damian stabbing the handsy ones, Timothy making people cry left and right between his blackmails and "conspiracy theories"-

Bruce: (tries to imagine all that Feral in one body and failing)

Batfam: (omg new cousin sounds lit)

Vlad: so yes Brucie, I need some advice, please and thank you.

(Unseen: Danny gnawing his leg)

A Good Boy

DP x DC Prompt

There has been a glowing green dog that's been playing with Ace and Titus whenever Damian is not with either of the dogs of Wayne Manor.

The entire Wayne brood has tried to catch the dog, and Damian especially wanted to catch it. They all failed at even laying a finger on it, as it has flight, a form of density shifting much more refined than J'onn's own, and is very playful.

It had taken about 6 months for the family to finally put their hands on the glowing green dog. It was Damian, of course.

Soon after that, the glowing green dog was following them during patrol and helping them out, but it mostly stuck to Damian's side. The first time they had seen it turn into a massive hellhound was a shock to them all.

Then, one night during patrol, the glowing green dog looked troubled. When Damian had approached the dog, it turned into its massive form, grabbed Damian in its mouth, and then began to run away with him. The rest of the family had began to chase after the dog, worried about Damian mostly.

The dog had taken Damian to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of Gotham, where it placed him down in front of a teenage boy that's collapsed, barely breathing and surrounded by blood that has some Lazarus Water coloring to it, the boy is also clutching his chest like one does when they're trying to soothe a pain there. The dog is very affectionate towards the boy. Perhaps the dog is his.

Danny had escaped the horrors his parents and the GIW put him through in the lab they took him to, but it's only a matter of time before they find him again. He was lucky enough to encounter Cujo in Gotham of all places, but he's just happy to see his favorite ghost dog. Danny is on the verge of passing out when Cujo came back after he told him to 'fetch help'. Danny was expecting Cujo to bring Jazz, but instead, Cujo brought Robin of all people.

"Danny did you do something with my boss's bike?"

Danny stared at the lake where Jason's bike now rested at the bottom, "I uhhh... moved it."

"Were?!!!"

Danny coughed awkwardly. "Uhm. Give me a second."

"........ was that explosion on the bridge because of you?"

".... no?"

"Please tell me that my boss' bike isn't at the bottom of the lake because you decided to hotwire did it and then take a ride before picking a fight with a villain on the bridge."

"Okay, then I won't."

"...."

"...."

"Danny!!"

"I'll get it back! Just give me a few minutes, I swear!"

"You're so dead! No, you're going to be even more dead when I'm done with you! Daniel J. Fenton! Get that bike back or so help me—"

————

Two people stood in front of the Red Hood, one who was whistling nervously while the other had her arms crossed irritatedly. Behind them was a dripping wet motorbike.

Red Hood stared at them blankly.

"Wolf? Do you want to explain?"

Through gritted teeth, Wolf said, "Please don't worry about it, Hood."

"My bike is wet."

"... brilliant observation."

Red Hood sighed and looked up at the sky for a moment before he looked back down and then shook his head silently, still speechless.

Wolf wilted and then said, "I'll pay you back, Hood."

Red Hood sighed. She was so cute sometimes and he was weak.

He ignored the sudden death glare from Wolf's little brother, waved a hand, and then said, "Alright, I'll come back in a few hours and I want my bike to be fixed, dry, and running, capiche?"

There were two mumbled, "Yes sir"s, before Red Hood turned away with a shake of his head.

No wonder Wolf was so weirdly competent. With siblings like that, she was probably running herself ragged.

Sigh. . . Tim Joker Jr. AU incorrect quotes because I don't wanna start writing the fic till I plan everything out and have a decent understanding of Stephanie, Cass, and Babs as characters and the timeline. The. Timeline. But gods, my own AU lives rent free in my head and I'm the only one able to make the content I want of it...

Context: Bruce stuck Tim in Arkham following the J.J. incident, Dick didn't exactly agree, but he didn't protest, nobody visited Tim for the two years he was there. Jason came back and decided Tim was his now. Now take backs.

Jason: Whatchu... Whatchu doin' there, Little Red?

Tim, glaring at the ice in his drink: Trying to see if you drugged me...

Jason: Why would I drug ya?

Tim: Same reason the guards and docs at Arkham did, 'cause I'm "crazy" and "dangerous."

Jason: . . . Well, that's bull. Here, lemme see that.

Jason, taking a sip of Tim's drink before handing it back: See? Not drugged.

Tim: . . . Thanks, riding hood.

Jason: No problem, little red.

—

Tim: . . . I don't feel real.

Jason: Ya look real.

Tim: Is time real? I don't think it is... I think it's made up. It doesn't feel real, what is time but an illusion of control humanity made to call the spinning of our planet?

Jason: . . . Let's just get you a weighted blanket.

—

Clark: I hear things have been rough in Gotham lately, new vigilantes?

Bruce: It's under control.

Clark: Yeah, yeah, of course! I'm just saying, if you ever need help—

Bruce: It. Is under. Control.

Clark: . . .

Jason who's taken over the Iceberg lounge and became the most notorious and dangerous Crime lord in Gotham city with territory in Crime Alley, the Bowery, and Robinsville:

Tim who has been equipping Jason and his trusted goons with tech that rivals the bats and setting random things on fire, including tampering with the Bat computers files:

Stephanie who has been sabotaging Batman and co. for weeks and planting evidence against various enemies to get them served longer sentences and running circles around Cass (it's enemies to friends to lovers, trust, gang) while also actively helping Jason take down Black Mask:

Selina who fully ditched Bruce and has been assisting the Red Hood and Spoiler while stealing from the rich in Bristol:

Bruce, sighing: So under control.

—

Dick: So, uh, B, y'know how Jason's back..?

Bruce: Yes, things are... Complicated, but I'm hoping that overtime we can come to an agreement an—

Dick: He broke Joker Junior out of Arkham.

Bruce:

Bruce: F#&$.

—

Jason, sighing heavily: Just me,

Jason, looking to Selina: My emotionally adopted Mom,

Jason, looking to Stephanie: My emotionally adopted pest,

Jason, looking to Tim: And my emotionally adopted little brother.

Tim: :D

—

Cassandra, sitting beside Stephanie on a rooftop: You're the enemy.

Stephanie: What makes me the enemy? Because I work with the Red Hood, or 'cause I'm fine with him killing?

Cassandra: Both.

Stephanie: . . . Y'know, I became Spoiler at first for the rush, 'cause it made me feel like I finally had power over my life. I could stop my Dad and the drug dealers and help my Mom, I could actually... I could actually do things, y'know? I'm not, like, just some random bystander. Batman didn't think that was a valid reason, I guess.

Cassandra: . . . Why do you still do it . . ? Still for the "rush?"

Stephanie: Now? Well, now... Now I do it 'cause it makes me happy. It feels right, y'know? It's given me everything Stephanie Brown never had, like Tim and Jason. I... I never really had a family before. Not a proper one.

Cassandra: I . . . understand that. Didn't like my family, Father or Mother. Oracle? I feel like I am... Home. Batman feels like... family.

Stephanie: Well... I'm glad you like your family. Sorry I hate 'em.

Cassandra: Sorry I hate yours.

Stephanie: 't's whatever. I'll still beat you up next time you try to attack Red Hood or Catwoman though.

Cassandra: You'll lose again.

Stephanie: I'll hit you with a brick again.

Cassandra: . . . I hate you.

Stephanie, laughing: Why!?

Cassandra: Because you... Make me feel. I don't like the feeling you give me.

Stephanie: Why not?

Cassandra: It makes me think things Batman wouldn't like...

Stephanie: Like what?

Cassandra, whispering: Like I should kiss you.

—

Tim, standing in the middle of Selina's apartment: Permission to pet all your cats?

Selina: . . . Permission granted.

Tim, cackling as he begins to pet every single cat:

Jason: How long ya think that'll take him?

Selina: At least five hours.

Jason: Damn.

—

Jason, standing in front of a flaming warehouse in Black Mask's territory: And what do you two have to say for yourselves!?

Tim, holding his flamethrower behind his back: I love you?

Stephanie: Womp womp!

—

Tim, standing next to Jason's sleeping body: . . .

Jason, slowly waking up:

Jason: HOLY— What are you doing up!?

Tim: I had to make sure you didn't get killed by the spiders.

Jason: What spiders?!

Tim: The ones in my head.

Tim, slowly covering Jason with a blanket again: This'll keep them off you.

Jason: . . . Thanks?

Tim: You're welcome! Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go flick the kitchen light exactly sixty times in order to prevent my arm from falling off.

Jason, watching as Tim walks away: . . . "A threat to Gotham" Bruce says,

Jason, throwing the blanket off himself to follow Tim: "Dangerous!" Dickface said!

Jason, rubbing a hand down his face: Danger to my damn electricity bill, more like...

—

Bruce, dropping down after hearing reports of a cult ritual being performed:

Jason, lying in the middle of a purple pentagram drawn poorly on the floor: Can we help you?

Tim, holding a flamethrower, slowly pointing it toward Batman:

Stephanie, in full Spoiler wear, eight months pregnant: We're kinda busy.

Selina, drinking a glass of wine from the side: Go away, Bat, they're under my supervisor.

Bruce, gesturing to the scene: This is outside Red Hood's territory, I have a right to ask.

Jason: No, you don't.

Stephanie: We'll give Tim permission to start shooting.

Tim: I already have in my mind.

Bruce: You're in a condemned building, Stephanie is pregnant, why does... He have a flamethrower!

Jason: Questioning our parenting methods? Really?

Selina: Honestly, the audacity.

Stephanie: Say Tim's name, p#&%$!

Bruce: You know what? Never mind.

Tim: Wow, the auditory hallucinations of you say my name and acknowledge me more than you.

Bruce: I... I'll just go.

Tim, sticking his tongue out as Bruce leaves:

Stephanie: Alright! Back to getting Jason his soul back!

—

Random bird:

Tim, making bird noises:

Random bird:

Jason: You good there, Little Red?

Tim: Yeah, we're talking politics!

Jason: Nice.

—

Dick standing right outside Crime Alley: I'm not in Crime Alley!

Jason: Get out!

Dick: I'm not in your territory!

Tim, jumping down with his flamethrower: Are you flame proof? :D

Dick: Tim.. C'mon, please, I'm trying!

Tim, aiming: Remember that time you stole my cookie during patrol and I stayed mad at you for a month?

Dick: . . . Yes.

Tim: Imagine how I feel about you not even VISITING ME in ARKHAM for TWO YEARS!

Jason: Begone! I'm the favorite brother.

Dick: We're still brothers?

Tim, putting his finger in the trigger, in a sing song voice: Not for long!

—

Dp x dc prompt

Redhood didn't like people who took advantage of children. Fucking hated them.

So when he heard of a new crime lord employing children in there area, he had to put a bullet between that fucker's eyes. Apperently, the guy ran the original gang out of town and set the kids off on petty crime. Stealing money. Food, clothes, in some cases, even drugs.

Redhood stood outside an abandoned building, gun at the ready. There was no security, no goons. Did this guy know he was coming? Is this a trap? Redhood shook off his worries. No matter. He's just gotta get this bastard before it could get any worse.

He crept through raftors and boxes. He listened for footsteps. Step step step. The footsteps were heavy and dragging, sluggish. According to eye witnesses, the crime lord tended to drag his feet, maybe limp even.

Redhood slid out of hiding, pressed his gun up to the back of the man's head, and-

It was a kid. The kid turned around, so irely calm. His long black air hung down, obscuring his face, but Redhood could clearly see the way his pale sickly skin sank into his bones. How his dull blue eyes seamed to gloss over and stare into his soul. Almost daring him to pull the trigger. Yet, despite the dark of the warehouse, he almost seemed to glow.

"So?" He asked.

"Wha- so what?" Redhood asked. He was shaking. He hasn't put the gun down.

"Are you going to pull the trigger or not? I mean, you've got a clear shot. I just ask you to clean up after. The kids don't need to see that," The teen slowly blinked at him. Redhood slowly lowered the gun. Just a gang of kids run rampant, yeah. That's what this is.

The kid hummed and began to walk off. Redhood couldn't really call it walking or even limping. It looked more like dragging a nearly dead leg. Now that he was close, he could see it. The dragging leg, the dead arm in a sling. The lichtenberg scars crawled up his face, reaching his eye, blinded and half shut. How did this kid run a whole gang out of town?

Red Hood followed him. The kid only gave his a brief glance before shrugging. Redhood followed him to the back of the warehouse, where a group of kids slept. Redhood recognised them, street kids. All either homeless or too scared to go home.

"They helped me," the kid whispered, "I got rid of those people because I hated the way they hurt the people around them, and when I fell sick, those kids stepped up to help. The least I can do is give them a place to stay."

"You fell sick? You weren't always like this?"

"No. I used to be a lot stronger, braver," The kid gave a heavy sigh before slowly lowering himself to the ground. Crossing his legs and resting his head on his hand, "Now I can barely move without aching, I feel like an old man trapped in a teenager's body."

Redhood glanced between him and the sleeping kids. He was helping them, housing them. In return, they were stealing food and medicine for their sick friend, and Rehood almost shot him.

"My name is Danny, by the way," The kid- Danny grumbled.

Redhood sighed and sat down next to him, "Nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Redhood."

DpxDc #12

Danny pushed the cigarette between his lips, taking a long draw out of it.

What time was it? Four… five in the morning?

He exhaled, watching the smoke fill the air, relaxing with the smell of tobacco.

Everything was tinted in a blueish light, and with the sun coming out in an hour or so, he pulled his hood a little bit tighter.

The entrance of the abandoned church was the to-go meeting spot since he decided to become an informant, deciding that selling info was more profitable than a normal retail job.

Sure, he got paid on commission, but he didn’t need identification, an address, or a bank account.

He tried not to sell to criminals if he could, but sometimes it happened that the info he got wasn’t necessary to the bats, so…

He heard someone approaching, so he took a last draw from his cigarette and pressed it against the wall to put it off.

The familiar figure approached, and Danny smiled.

“Hood”

The man nodded, as they greeted each other.

“Hi Phantom, sorry for being late. Listen, I need some stuff and it’s kind of time-sensitive”

“Oh, shit man, sound serious”

“Yeah, don't tell me... I don’t know how you do it, but I heard that you know stuff about spirits and shit?”

Oh, fuck.

Danny has been in Gotham for the most part of two years, liking how there was enough ectoplasm in the air to keep him going, but not many ghosts around to annoy him every day.

If this was a ghost matter, and it was enough to worry the Red Hood, then peace was about to be broken.

“I know some stuff, what about it?”

“You do? Any chance you heard about the Infinite Realms?”

Dany shifted a bit, feeling the sudden weight of the invisible crown above his head.

“Sounds dangerous, doesn’t it? Why do you want to know about it?”

“A portal opened around here in Gotham and a fucking monster dragged my brother inside. If you know something, you have to help me. I’ll pay you”

Danny stayed silent for a bit.

On one side, he hated going in there. Too many memories, too many enemies…

But on the other side, a human was taken, and, well, at least he was going to get paid.

He inhaled deeply, taking out another cigarette.

“Sure”

DP X Marvel #14

It all started with a ghost. A very loud, very neon, very annoying ghost that thought it was a great idea to haunt Stark Tower. Danny Fenton—part-time student, full-time accidental hero, and perpetually exhausted teen—was just trying to track the damn thing through the Manhattan skyline when his portal malfunctioned (again), exploded in his face (again), and slingshotted him across the sky, straight through a window that turned out to be reinforced vibranium glass.

It should’ve stopped him. It didn’t.

Cue the alarms. Cue the dozens of defense drones locking onto his energy signature. Cue a 19-year-old Danny dangling upside down in the penthouse, surrounded by billion-dollar murder bots, trying to explain to a very confused AI that he was not, in fact, an alien invader.

But before FRIDAY could blast him into oblivion, a small voice piped up from behind a couch. “Are you a fairy?”

Danny blinked. Dangling upside down. Singed suit. Ectoplasm dripping from his hair. “Uh. Sure.”

The voice belonged to a tiny, curly-haired gremlin wearing a tutu, light-up sneakers, and what looked like Tony Stark’s old Iron Man helmet—three sizes too big and twice as chaotic. This was Morgan Stark. Age: five. Chaos level: eldritch god. She approached him like a cat approaches a new toy: equal parts curiosity and threat assessment.

“Can you do sparkles?” she asked.

Danny shot a tiny beam of ecto-energy at the ceiling light, which exploded into fireworks.

Morgan gasped. “OH MY GOD, YOU ARE A FAIRY.”

And that was how Danny Fenton became Morgan Stark’s official babysitter.

It wasn’t like he volunteered. Or got paid. Or even agreed. Tony Stark had been out of the country—something about a diplomatic mess in Wakanda and a golf game with T’Challa. Pepper had begged Steve Rogers to watch Morgan, but Steve’s idea of babysitting was forcing a child to recite the Constitution. So Pepper, desperate and very, very sleep-deprived, walked into her penthouse to find a teenage boy hovering in midair while her daughter screamed “FAIRY GODBRO” at him and decided, “Yeah. Sure. This’ll do.”

“Can you keep her alive?” Pepper asked, not even blinking at the glowing green eyes.

Danny shrugged. “Uh. I guess?”

“You get dental.”

Danny had no idea what that meant but was too scared to argue.

By Day Three, he was in hell. Not the Ghost Zone. Not some apocalyptic alternate timeline. Actual hell. Or what felt like it. Morgan had no concept of mortality. She once duct-taped kitchen knives to her arms and yelled “I’M WOLVERINE NOW.” Another time, she tried to feed their Roomba peanut butter and sobbed when it wouldn’t eat.

Danny tried to keep up. He really did.

Unfortunately, he was also being hunted by an interdimensional ghost warlord named Balthazar the Undying who decided Stark Tower was a great place to stage his declaration of conquest. So in between coloring pages and singing “Let It Go” for the 57th time (because Morgan said if he didn’t, she’d tell everyone he “pees ectoplasm”), Danny was banishing ancient horrors to the Shadow Realm.

“Why does the air taste like sadness?” Morgan asked one morning, sipping chocolate milk while a spectral hand clawed its way out of the floor behind her.

Danny shot it with a laser without looking. “That’s just the trauma, kid.”

She nodded like that made sense.

By Day Five, things got weirder.

Bruce Banner came over to “assess the babysitter.” What he found was a 19-year-old ghost hybrid making chicken nuggets with one hand while performing an exorcism on a sentient blender with the other. Bruce blinked. “You’re multitasking.”

Danny, dead-eyed and covered in slime: “You’re not my real dad.”

Bruce left after Morgan bit him.

Then Peter Parker dropped by. He took one look at Danny—haggard, twitching, wearing a tiara—and whispered, “Oh my god, he is a hot mess.”

“Shut up,” Danny snapped, using his foot to hold down a haunted Roomba. “Help me tie up the possessed dolls.”

Peter did not help. He just filmed everything for TikTok. The video went viral under the title “Me when I leave a random ghost fairy babysitter with Tony Stark’s child and come back to find him summoning the underworld during snack time.”

Nick Fury saw the video and sent a S.W.O.R.D. strike team to investigate.

Morgan beat them with a plastic lightsaber.

On Day Seven, Danny woke up to find Morgan riding a flying toaster around the living room like it was a dragon.

“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?”

“I summoned it,” she said proudly.

“HOW.”

“I made a deal with your ghost friends.”

Danny’s left eye twitched so hard he saw the Ghost Zone.

Pepper walked in on him mid-breakdown. “You’ve been great with her,” she said, sipping her coffee. “We haven’t seen her this happy since… well, ever.”

Danny, clinging to the ceiling like a feral raccoon, wheezed, “I think she opened a portal to the Necroplane. There’s a demon named Craig living in the fridge.”

Pepper patted his arm. “All babysitters say that.”

Craig opened the fridge and waved. “Sup.”

By Week Two, Danny had stopped pretending to be normal. He phased through walls, levitated toys, vaporized anything that smelled like danger, and occasionally screamed “I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE HAVING A MID-LIFE CRISIS” into the void.

Tony finally came home. He blinked at the scene: Danny napping upside down like a bat while Morgan built a nuclear reactor out of old toaster parts and a Roomba named Kevin.

“Who the hell is that?” Tony asked.

Morgan didn’t even look up. “My fairy godbrother. He banished an evil frog ghost and helped me build an orbital laser.”

Tony stared. “Huh. Alright.”

And just like that, Danny Fenton became part of the Avengers.

He didn’t sign anything. He didn’t train. He didn’t even get a uniform. But every time something exploded or a portal opened or some ancient deity said “BEHOLD MY TRUE FORM,” Danny just floated into the air, cracked his back like an old man, and said, “Not in front of the child, you drama bitch.”

Morgan, from her juice box throne: “YEET HIM INTO THE VOID, DANNY.”

And he did.

It only got worse when the other Avengers got involved.

Natasha tried to teach Morgan how to do spy stuff. Morgan used the techniques to sneak into Tony’s wine cellar and replace the labels with glitter glue and threats.

Thor visited once. Morgan asked if she could ride his hammer. He said no. She cried. The hammer floated toward her on its own. Danny had to wrestle it away.

Clint brought over a bow and arrow set. Morgan hit Peter in the ass with a suction cup dart. Danny laughed so hard he choked on ectoplasm.

Wanda stared at Danny for a full ten minutes before whispering, “You’re not from this plane.”

Danny, deadpan: “Neither is your eyeliner.”

They became friends.

One night, Danny woke up to find Morgan drawing summoning circles on the walls in glitter glue.

“Whatcha doing, champ?”

“Trying to summon a unicorn for Auntie Yelena.”

Danny blinked. “Go back to bed.”

She glared. “You don’t support women in STEM.”

By Month One, SHIELD had officially labeled Danny as a “Class 7 Unexplainable Being with Babysitting Potential.” He had a badge. He had clearance. He had no idea what was happening anymore.

All he knew was that if Morgan Stark said “Danny, I wanna adopt a ghost puppy,” then by God, he was going to march into the Ghost Zone and wrestle a spectral hellhound into a leash.

And he did.

Its name is Toast.

Danny Fenton—ghost boy, half-dead teenager, babysitter of the year—accidentally became the most powerful figure in the universe. Not because of his powers. Not because of his knowledge. Not even because of his tragic backstory.

But because Morgan Stark liked him. And if you hurt Morgan Stark, you would be introduced to Craig, the fridge demon, and Kevin, the haunted Roomba, and Toast, the ghost puppy, and then, finally, the very angry, very tired, very over-it Danny Phantom who could—and would—yeet you into another dimension for interrupting nap time.

The Avengers knew better than to interfere.

Even Thanos came back to life once, took one look at Danny and Morgan, and said, “No thanks.”

He snapped himself back out of existence.

Danny didn’t even flinch.

Morgan dabbed.

And somewhere, in the vast multiverse of chaos and consequence, Tony Stark looked at his daughter, his haunted apartment, his glowing ghost babysitter eating fruit snacks while levitating a possessed microwave, and muttered to himself—

“Yeah. That tracks.”

DPXDC Prompt #9- Date Night at Cadmus

Batman couldn’t help his irritation with his hands being slapped away again from the control panel of a Cadmus base- or at least, a supposed partnership with a government division referred to as the GIW by his assailant’s muttering.

Tim and Dick relayed they were in position as the man around his age's hand still from the bag he rummaged in. He pushed Batman away as he drove a taser-like device into the computer, setting it aglow with electricity. The power went out in seconds, and a flash drive was tossed his way.

Danny, retired from the vigilante life and living out his days as a full-time engineer and single dad, had heard of the GIW returning when Dani came home with a blaster wound from her patrol.

Things have been peaceful since Amity Parkers and ghosts co-existed. He wasn’t about to have the next generation deal with his problems. It was the perfect time to test out the ecto-vaccum he had made, even if it did develop a mouth and hunger for the damn thing. He swung his bag over his shoulder and tossed a copy of the info the edgy hunk’s way.

“Come along, hot stuff. We got some work to do.” At least this way, he could keep Batman from getting himself killed. He could overhear the collective of younger voices gagging on the other end of the man’s communicator as he walked past.

Hey, who said he couldn’t get a potential date while he’s at it?

Part 2: The Watchtower

Danny wasn’t technically a member of the Batfamily. But considering he had been crashing at one of their safehouses for the past couple of weeks and running night patrols with Robin, he was basically an honorary stray at this point. Which is how he ended up at the Watchtower when the Justice League was holding a debriefing.

Danny didn’t expect much to happen—until Superman walked in, took one look at him, and froze.

His eyes narrowed as he turned to Batman. “Bruce,” he said, voice laced with suspicion. “Is this the same one from the cleanup?”

Danny blinked. “Oh, cool, I get to be a ‘this one.’ That’s not ominous or anything.”

Superman ignored him, gaze locked onto Batman. “You know his heartbeat is wrong, right?”

That made Danny pause. He put a hand over his chest, mildly offended. “Uh, rude?”

“It’s not human,” Superman said firmly. “It’s close—but there’s something off about it. Bruce, tell me you did not just bring home an unknown meta without vetting him first.”

Batman, to his credit, didn’t even look up from his data pad. “I know what he is.”

Superman frowned. “And?”

Batman didn’t elaborate.

Danny grinned. “See, this is why I love working with Bats. So good at keeping a secret.”

Superman wasn’t amused. “What are you?”

Danny tilted his head. “A guy who really likes pancakes.”

“Not what I meant.”

“Wow, rude again.”

Superman’s frown deepened. Danny could practically feel the suspicion rolling off him.

The kid’s heartbeat wasn’t human. That was odd enough. But something about it nagged at him—because it wasn’t just different. It was familiar. He couldn't place it exactly, but it reminded him of something. Kryptonian? No, that was impossible. …Right?

Superman listened closer, trying to pick apart what exactly was off about it, but the more he focused, the more the suspicion dug in. His mind whirred, running through possibilities. Half-Kryptonian? A clone? A hybrid of some kind? The lack of information was driving him insane.

By the time they left the Watchtower, Superman was still staring at Danny like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. 

Then Danny, ever the dramatic little menace, casually floated up into the air like it was nothing.

Superman stared.

Danny caught his expression, grinned, and gave him a mock salute. “Later, Big Blue.” And then he shot into the sky, disappearing into the vastness of space like it was just another Tuesday.

Superman turned to Batman, expression unreadable. “Bruce.”

Batman didn’t look up. “Clark.”

Superman pointed at where Danny had disappeared. “He flew.”

“Yes.”

“Without a jetpack. Or wings.”

“Yes.”

Superman folded his arms. “You cannot tell me that didn’t look Kryptonian to you.”

Batman smirked, finally glancing his way. “I collect strays, Clark. That doesn’t mean I always explain them.”

Superman huffed.

That kid, no Bruce said his name was Phantom, is definitely Kryptonian.

And Clark was going to prove it.

----------------------------------------------------

2.5: Danny vs. Superman (on Behalf of Kon)

A couple of weeks later, Danny met Young Justice. And by met, he meant he immediately took interest in Kon-El—aka Superboy, aka Superman’s clone—because, well. Having a clone of yourself was a whole mess of weird, and Danny had some very strong opinions about it.

At first, this whole thing had just been funny. Messing with Superman? Hilarious. Letting him think he was Kryptonian? Comedy gold.

But now? Now it was personal.

Because the more he learned about Kon, the more pissed off he got.

Superman didn’t even acknowledge him? Treated him like he wasn’t worth his time? Oh, hell no. Danny knew what that was like—the existential crisis, the what even am I spiral, the feeling of being ignored by someone who should have given a damn. But Danny had figured it out. And Ellie—his own clone, his little sister—was one of the best things to ever happen to him.

Superman didn’t get to just pretend Kon didn’t exist.

So yeah. Maybe Danny had started this whole thing as a joke.

But now?

Now he was going to teach Kon Kryptonian. And they definitely weren’t telling Superman.

Masterpost

I see you cooking and I’m sat 🤣

DPXDC Prompt# 6- Net Gain

- I'm really happy with the prompt I came up with in the Batpham discord server, so I'm sharing it here!

Gotham has been a lot safer since VladCo's ever-reluctant Co-CEO had to take over. The reconstruction budget hasn't been touched in 2 weeks. The bats are suspicious of the one multimillionaire who isn't publicly known.

Danny has never been happier to just be shut in and invent more for the AF line of security.

Things have never been easier for him.

Well...

Until he walks into his office on 2 hours of sleep and sees a collection of bats caught in his proto-AF nets.

AF- Anti-Fenton

All Seeing

DpxDc

Bruce Wayne had been many things in his life: billionaire, businessman, vigilante, father. But a long-lost uncle? That was a new one.

The SOS from a small town in Illinois had sent him racing against time, but he had been too late. An accident had taken the lives of an unknown distant cousin and their entire family—except for one. The sole survivor was a boy named Danny, left blind from the incident. When Bruce had arrived, he saw no other option but to take him in, to give him the support he needed.

Months passed, and Danny quickly found a place within the Wayne family. He was kind, gentle, and an overall bright presence in the manor. But grief had its way of clinging to people, and Danny was no exception. He had his sad days, times when he retreated into himself and let silence be his shield. Even so, the Batfamily took to him, each in their own way.

There was just one thing about him that none of them could ignore: he gives out cryptic warnings.

It had started small. He would mention the weather, and it would turn exactly as he said. He would casually hand someone an item—a band aid, an extra set of gloves, a lucky charm—and say, "Be careful." And without fail, later that day, they would end up needing it. It might have been coincidences at first, but the pattern grew undeniable.

Danny could see the future. Or, at least, something close to it.

The family, skeptics that they were, had tried to prove otherwise. They set up small tests, all of which Danny passed without even realizing he was being tested. Eventually, they stopped trying to disprove it and started trying to understand it instead. Bruce, being Bruce, documented everything. Tim, ever the investigator, compiled data. Damian remained skeptical but watched his cousin with a hawk’s eye.

Then Danny was kidnapped.

It had been a random act—a desperate group of criminals seeking to ransom Bruce Wayne’s newest ward. They had no idea what they had walked into. The moment Danny went missing, the Batfamily mobilized. It was Red Robin who found him first.

Tim had worked swiftly, dismantling the criminals with precision, tying them up before they even had a chance to process what was happening. He had moved quietly, intent on assessing Danny’s condition before alerting the others. But before he could even speak, Danny, bound and blindfolded, tilted his head slightly and murmured, "...Tim?"

Tim froze.

It wasn’t a confident statement; it was uncertain, questioning. But Danny, who should have had no way of knowing, knows.

DP X Marvel #16

It started, as these things often did, with Clockwork showing up at 3:07 AM in Danny’s bedroom and dragging him out of bed by the ankle like a disappointed father dealing with a child who had failed Algebra. Again.

“Wha—Clockwork?!” Danny shouted, flailing in his space-themed pajama pants as he was unceremoniously yanked into a swirling portal of green and purple time goop. “I have school in four hours!”

“You won’t need it where you’re going,” Clockwork said with the kind of deadpan that made you suspect he hadn’t laughed in several centuries.

“That sounds like a threat.”

“It is.”

Next thing Danny knew, he was falling face-first onto a Persian rug that smelled faintly of incense, ancient secrets, and emotional trauma. He groaned and looked up just as a swirling portal closed behind him, revealing a tall, caped man sipping tea with the patience of a man who had seen God, mocked Him, and been promptly smacked in the face for it.

“Stephen Strange,” Clockwork said, materializing again because apparently he didn’t believe in exits, “meet Daniel Fenton. You’re going to teach him how to not accidentally vaporize the concept of space.”

“I what?” Danny blinked.

“Wait—this is the child you were talking about?” Strange said with a distinct expression of “I expected someone taller and more eldritch.”

Danny raised a hand. “Hi. Still in my pajamas. Please explain.”

Clockwork gave him a look. “You’ve been randomly tearing holes in the multiverse with your emotions. If you continue, you’ll accidentally delete the timeline where pizza was invented.”

Danny went pale. “That’s my favorite timeline!”

“That’s why you’re here.”

And that’s how Danny ended up training at the Sanctum Sanctorum instead of going to college like a normal eighteen-year-old. Not that Danny was ever normal. Or functional. Or even consistently corporeal at this point.

“Why is there a ghost teenager eating cold Pop-Tarts in my artifact room?” Wong asked the next morning, frozen mid-step with the sling ring still on his fingers.

“I live here now,” Danny said through a mouthful of Strawberry Frosted. “Clock Daddy said so.”

Wong stared at Strange. “We don’t even let you eat in here.”

“He’s technically a spectral demi-being empowered by quantum echoes,” Strange muttered. “I’m not sure he can be stopped.”

Danny quickly became the Sanctum’s chaos gremlin. The Cloak of Levitation hated him, loved him, used him as a chew toy, and then dragged him into a corner and cuddled him while he tried to watch anime at 2AM. Danny responded by naming it “Blanky.” The Cloak permitted this. Wong did not.

There was one particular week when Danny got stuck halfway between dimensions because he got emotional watching a Pixar movie. “I JUST—THEY FORGOT ABOUT BING BONG, STRANGE, THEY FORGOT—”

“Kid, I swear to the Vishanti, if you collapse another nexus realm because of children’s media—”

“HE SACRIFICED HIMSELF FOR JOY, OKAY?”

Training with Strange was like being punched in the brain repeatedly with Shakespearean insults and quantum theory. Danny tried. He did. But he was more of a vibes-based learner, while Strange was a “recite this 900-word incantation backwards while dodging metaphysical arrows” type of teacher.

“I can just blast it, though?” Danny argued, half-asleep, floating upside-down above the kitchen one night.

“No. No blasting. No phasing. No yelling ghostly wail and reducing my library to ash.”

“But I’m good at those!”

“You also set the Time Fractal on fire.”

“It had a face. It looked at me first.”

Clockwork would appear now and then, mostly to drop Danny cryptic warnings like “Avoid the one with the metal arm,” or “Never trust a raccoon with a gun,” or “Don’t play Uno with Loki. He cheats.”

“I don’t even know a Loki,” Danny protested.

“You will.”

Danny’s powers kept getting weirder. One time he coughed and spat up ectoplasm that turned into a sentient clone of himself, but with an Australian accent and a nicotine addiction. They had to banish him to the Mirror Dimension after he started flirting with Strange.

“Who made you like this?” Strange hissed, trying to undo the spell with rapidly twitching fingers.

“I think I made myself like this,” Danny whispered.

Somehow, the multiverse noticed. A portal opened on a Tuesday—because of course it did—and dropped in Peter Parker mid-panic with a half-dead demon strapped to his back and a terrified expression.

“HELP! I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!”

Danny stared, eating a microwaved burrito. “Are you a spider?”

“Are you a ghost?!”

“Do you want a burrito?”

“Yes?!”

And that’s how Danny accidentally made a new best friend. Peter and Danny had exactly the same amount of brain cell(s), which meant Strange had to install magical barriers to keep them from combining into a singularity of disaster.

“Stop bringing the Spider-Child into my Sanctum!”

“He brought himself! Through a hole! In the air! Like me!”

“Oh god, there are two of them now,” Wong muttered, lighting incense aggressively.

The Sanctum slowly became a hub for the weird and unstable. Kamala Khan stopped by and declared Danny her new weird older cousin. America Chavez tried to punch him once and fell into his thermos. Loki found him and said, “Ah. You’re one of those,” and walked away very quickly.

One particularly cursed day, Tony Stark walked in, saw Danny floating above a bowl of ramen while casually moving furniture with his mind, and said, “Nope,” before immediately walking out.

Danny’s magic was…unconventional. When Strange taught him how to summon a shield, Danny ended up with a glowing neon green circle that said “NOPE” in ghostly cursive. When told to summon a blade, Danny pulled out a glowing halberd shaped like a Fenton Thermos with an axe edge.

“I call her ‘Big Suck.’”

“I hate you,” Strange said.

“I love me.”

Then came the Incident. Danny got bored, which, to be clear, is always the beginning of the apocalypse. He found a cursed artifact that looked like a snow globe with a tiny screaming soul inside and thought, this seems fun.

It was not fun.

He broke it open trying to use it as a nightlight and released an ancient chaos entity named The Unfathomable Carl. Carl had a god complex, seventeen mouths, and a Twitter account within four minutes of escaping.

“HOW DID HE EVEN GET A PHONE?!” Strange screamed while fending off a barrage of cursed pigeons.

“HE FOLLOWED ME ON INSTAGRAM!” Danny shouted from behind a sofa.

It took three Avengers, a packet of Mentos, and Danny screaming “YOU’RE NOT EVEN THAT SCARY, CARL!” to trap him back in the snow globe. Clockwork appeared mid-chaos, sipping ecto-tea.

“This was necessary for your growth,” he said calmly.

Danny hurled a shoe at him.

Eventually, Strange came to a horrifying realization: Danny wasn’t learning magic in the traditional sense. He was absorbing it. He was like a sponge that had been dunked in eldritch Kool-Aid and now radiated unpredictable power every time he sneezed.

“Do not, under any circumstance, let him near the Time Stone,” Strange told Wong.

“He already touched it.”

“WHAT?!”

“He said it ‘smelled like cosmic fruit roll-up’ and tried to lick it.”

“I HATE THIS CHILD.”

Danny was currently learning how to open a rift without screaming “YOLO” at the top of his lungs. Progress was…questionable.

“Did you just use Ebonic incantation slang to fold space?”

Danny grinned. “Magic, but make it ✨feral✨.”

“You’re going to give me an aneurysm.”

“I already gave Wong one.”

“You what—?”

At some point, Nick Fury showed up, stared directly into Danny’s glowing green eyes, and immediately called for backup.

“He’s a threat to national security.”

“I’m seventeen!”

“You’ve destroyed seven timelines.”

“Okay but they were minor timelines! Who needs a universe made of talking cats, anyway?”

“…I did.”

Even the Watcher started side-eyeing Danny like a nervous babysitter. Carol Danvers tried to spar with him once and ended up in a ghost trap he made out of duct tape and ambition. “I respect you,” she told him from inside the glowing cube. “But I hate you.”

“Get in line.”

By the time Danny hit six months of training, he’d accidentally absorbed a minor chaos god, reinvented ice magic as a form of dance-fighting, made friends with Mephisto (“He’s not that bad once you get past the brimstone”), and turned his hair permanently silver-blue from temporal exposure.

Strange sat in his chair, robes scorched, tea long gone cold.

“Wong,” he said softly. “I think the child is the apocalypse.”

Wong nodded solemnly. “And yet…I fear I love him.”

Danny phased through the wall with sunglasses and a churro. “Hey! Want to help me prank Odin?”

Strange sighed like a man whose karma had caught up with him.

“I’ll get the goat.”

And so it continued. Danny Phantom: Ghost Kid, Sorcerer-In-Training, Time-Space Menace, and unofficial emotional support chaos goblin of the multiverse. He may not have understood quantum geometry, astral projection, or taxes—but damn it, he had style.

And, apparently, a date with the Living Tribunal next Tuesday.

“I hear he’s into jazz,” Danny said. “Think I should bring cookies?”

“You’re going to destroy everything.”

“Yeah, but like—charmingly?”

Ma and Pa were just lazing around the front porch in their farm during a meteor shower night.

Clark and Lois were out for rare time out at the town. Conner was with Tim in Gotham, and Jon was sleeping soundly in his bed upstairs.

It was a peaceful night indeed, but until one shooting meteor light came heading towards the opposite direction, going straight towards their Corn fields.

Pa glances at Ma, who looks to him and smiles back softly. Seem another family member was arriving soon enough indeed.

"Let go see the new arrivals, ma." Pa said softly, already taking his truck key out of his pocket.

5 minutes will go, driving straight toward the crash site where an almost broken apart silver and glowing green ship lies, the front glass shattered with a mere slightest touch.

Lies not one alien, but 6 aliens in total..

Most of them were unconscious, young children, huddle up close in a pile except for one, who was a young lady with bright orange hair, bleeding excessively green blood dripping down her head, a necklace that seem to just stop glowing and shattered to pieces, carrying a very small white haired child, or possibly a baby close with one hand out, tightly holding glowing green gun in her very shakenly grasp.

What came out of her voice was a mere whisper nearly static, like with a slur of very old English.

"Don't hurt them."

X

I need more dosages of this in my life

DPXDC Prompt# 8- Burned Bridges and Pepper Spray

Only cause I've been reading too many Demon Twin AUs.

Damian is trying his very best to keep his composure. He doesn't want to admit that his twin's final words about him never being able to change haunted him.

What matters is that he found him. They can be the family they were meant to be. He knew better than to expect flowers and a hug for this reunion.

But there it was. The same cold gaze that pierced through his soul time and time again. Only this time, it's on two bodies half his height. He couldn't even react before he was pepper sprayed and tased simultaneously.

He held onto the railing behind him for dear life. He barely makes out the door being shut, and the nearest voice cuts through his haze of anguish, yelling out, "MOM, HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED IS ON THE PORCH!"

I think it would be funny if Bruce found out about Danny Phantom-style ghosts and immediately started reading the leading scientific research on the topic, which of course comes from the Doctors Fenton. So he's got like, a basis of knowledge, and decides to bring in a magic expert. He asks Constantine what he knows about ectoplasm and the Ghost Zone, and Constantine just groans. He can tell you've been reading materials by those Fenton quacks, Bruce. It's called the Infinite Realms you dolt. "Ghost Zone" isn't just inaccurate it's borderline offensive. If you want to call the un-matter of the Infinite Realms "ectoplasm" then sure, go ahead, see how many ghosts want to talk to you. Don't internalize that dehumanizing slop.

So Bruce mentally notes all of that down, and when he finally meets a ghost he makes sure to use the right terminology for the Infinite Realms, and Danny is like, "haha, you mean the Ghost Zone?"

Constantine receives a very passive aggressive email.

DP x DC Crack Prompt

Its the usual shebang, the JL, YJ, and TT need help defeating some demon hellbent on destroying their world for whatever reason, and they're struggling, when Raven hesitantly says she has someone she can summon to help. Due to her hesitancy, everyone assumes whoever she's summoning must be a huge deal, and really risky, but at this point it looks like their only hope, so Raven summons him;

The King Of The Infinite Realms; Phantom. A hulking figure with a crown of cool flame, with teeth as sharp as Tungsten, and a heart as dark and cold as- wait is that little Rae-Rae?!

The King starts gushing over Raven, much to her embarrassment as he complains she never visits him anymore. He laments about the days when she was just a little baby and came to the Infinite Realms meetings with her father, coloring pictures of demons while Danny and the other ancients passed her various sweets and toys to keep her occupied, and that time she told Trigon he was a "big stupid head and she was staying with the other ancients from then on"!, and all the mischief she got up go with Dani/Ellie in Phantom's Keep when they had sleepovers.

Raven, heavily embarrassed, calls him "Your Highness" while trying to get the conversation back on track, but the King looks super hurt by that so she eventually caves and calls him "Uncle Phantom" like she usually does, and finally gets him to take care of their demon problem.

The payment for this favor? Raven has to go to Phantom's Keep every other month or so for tea with Him, and Dani/Ellie.

Raven agrees, and thus the universe is saved, and all it costed was Raven's dignity[/j].

The Teen Titans are kinda is a hard situation though. On one hand; "Ha! He called her Rae-Rae!" And they wanted to hear more baby stories, on the other, her Uncle is apparently the King Of Every Known Universe and then some, do they really want to tease her about this?

The answer is yes.

As a prompt Danny after he enters Gotham for any suddenly starts growing again for the first time since the portal incident and his body instead of slowly again decides to catch up all the missing years of growing at once so Danny goes from still looking 14 to suddenly having his father's height and looking his actual age.

Growing pains.... Literally

Since his death, Danny hasn't really... Grown. His parents think he's a late bloomer, that he'll grow later in life. But it's been four years since he's died and he hasn't grown a single inch in that time.

Frostbite is kind enough to tell me that... Well... He's stuck.

He's stuck in this form until something affects his physical form. Amity, even though it's considered the most haunted place in earth, doesn't have enough ambient ectoplasm for Danny. There are too many ghosts from the realm that feed of it, too many nevermores that need it to exist. Amity feeds it's ghosts but it doesn't have enough for a halfa like him.

When he moved to Gotham for the aerospace program (plus the scholarship) he doesn't expect much from it. People still question him about his age, it almost ends with him flinging his ID and birth certificate on people and cussing them out on his height.

He had even started exploring the city. There was this one cafe he found and the owner, Lily, was an absolute angel! With a shotgun. And he met a lot of people in Lily's Eden Cafe, like this weird kid that apparently dropped out of high school. Now, Danny ain't one to judge, so he's pretty okay with Tim. Except for the fact that he was so cool and smooth on a skateboard. Danny wanted one too.

Almost a week after moving, he's suffering. His body hurts, everything aches. It's as if something inside of him was trying to break out and it's making his bones strain. Everything about it hurts.

Many days passed of Danny being delirious from the pain, barely able to register what he was doing. A week and it's like he spent a coma walking around while his consciousness was asleep, practically dead by the lack of his memories.

The next time he woke up, it's been a week since he blacked out from the pain.

There's music in the background, almost familiar. The beat is something he heard Ember compose before his eighteenth birthday, then it was practically blasted through our the Ghost Zone when the day actually came.

"Shhh! Turn that racket down!"

"Hell nah! He likes it, see?"

"The little king seems.... To......change... Gotham..."

His eyes snapped open, gasping when he saw multiple pairs of eyes looking down at him.

"He's alive!"

Danny's instincts took over in that second and he's sending a blast of ecto towards the sudden scream. More screaming. Too much screaming. His head hurt.

"Holy shit, baby pop!"

He takes a moment before he's recognizing Ember... And the hole on his wall... And his glowing hand. Shit.

"Woah, woah! Calm down."

In Danny's confused state, he could barely register Kitty and Johnny in the room. Oh, and Shadow too. But still...

"I— What happened?" He groaned, blinking slowly. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His voice... OH MY GOD HIS VOICE! Why was it so deep?! What was wrong with his voice? Did he have a cold or something? Or maybe it's just his morning voice—

"Congrats on your dawning!" Johnny congratulated, grinning like a madman.

"What?" ooh, that was weird, "What the heck is an dawning?"

"Ooh, baby pop!" Ember cooed, "Forgot that our little king is still pretty new to being all ghost. C'mon now, baby. Mama Ember will teach you all about ghost puberty."

"GHOST WHAT?!"

Ghost puberty was a thing apparently. He had hauled himself into the Far Frozen after yelling at the four ghosts to steal him some clothes that would actually fit him. Because his entire body felt wrong... So wrong.

He was taller now. Having shot up from 5'4" to a whopping 6'2". Everything still hurt and now all his clothes didn't even fit! Nothing looked right when he'd looked at the mirror. He was almost as tall a shis dad now—he looked almost exactly like his dad now actually. It was almost terrifying how much he resembled his dad. If he went to visit now, he's sure that his mother would have a heart attack from how quickly he had grown.

"Frostbite!" Danny practically growled and oooh... Yeah, now it sounded differently to whenever he'd end up snarling. The deepness of his voice almost intimidated him.

"Great one!" The yeti greeted, looking utterly ecstatic to see him. "Ah, I see you've finished your dawning. I offer my sincerest congrats, your majesty."

"Yeah, yeah. The fuck is a Dawning?"

Frostbite blinked, before his expression morphed into a grim one. "Oh dear... I had thought that the Observants would have deigned to explain this too you upon your coronation... Well, let us sit then, great one. This will be a long one."

To summarize it all, Ghost puberty.

A Dawning was a time every ghost went through, so long as there was enough ambient ectoplasm around them to help their forms morph into their preferred appearances. Usually, a ghosts appearance to their own mentality. Their maturity.

Apparently, Young Blood already went through a Dawning but remained in his child-like form due to his own mental age. He was a child in heart, mind, soul, and body.

Meanwhile... Danny who was still alive yet also dead, had followed on with his mental maturity. His body morphed, it changed, it adapted to how he saw himself, how he desperately wanted to become deep down in his core.

And this Danny Fenton was a 6'2" giant trying to control all his limbs that were suddenly too long, too heavy. Everything felt strange....

Tim Drake's favorite cafe was known for being neutral ground for both rogues and vigilantes. You don't fuck around Lilian's cafe or else she'll pull out a rifle and shoot you dead. So if course, Tim fucking loved the place.

Actually, many people frequented it.

He's familiarised himself with the faces of a lot of people by then. Even that scrawny new kid that arrived three weeks ago. Tim remembers Danny for how enthusiastic he was about going to collage, not even minding the madness of Gotham itself. It was like he thrived in it.

He waves at Lilian after ordering his usual, taking a seat in the corner before he's whipping out his laptop. Duke and Steph arrive soon after, immediately ordering before going off to join Tim.

Mundane things, something they all seemed to appreciate more.

The bell rings, more customers arrive and—

"Danny! Holy hell, what happened?"

Tim paused, immediately snapping his eyes towards— WHAT THE FUCK?!

Steph whistled, "Hot damn..."

Danny Fenton was a scrawny young man, shorter than Tim. Even more slim.

But whoever the hell entered the cafe was 6'2", almost as muscled as Jason, and slouching like Clark—as if he was in the wrong body. He almost dropped his drink if not for Duke gently guiding his hand down.

"Hey, Lils..."

God, what the fuck was that? What was happening? Who the hell was this awkward adonis with a voice as deep as the fucking ocean?

"Tim?" Duke waved his hand over his eyes, "Timothy? Timbers?"

"Duke, leave him alone. He's gone, never coming back." Steph snickered, shaking her head before her eyes went back to Danny, who was stuttering as he tried to order what he wanted. "But damn if I wouldn't act the same. Shoot your shot—"

Shoot his fucking shot he did.

"Hey Danny..." Tim slid up to him with a smile.

Danny blinked—woah was he tall and practically built like a fucking fridge—before his eyes brightened and a smile joined his expression.

"Hi Tim!"

Was this how Bruce felt like when he saw Clark?

Masterpost

DpxDc #5

Everywhere but home.

The Anti-Ecto Acts applied only to North America.

The USA and Canada both permitted the capture, experimentation, and termination of ecto entities.

One night, after weeks of being constantly hunted down, Danny decided it was time to leave the continent.

At first, he was terrified. 

He didn’t even need false documentation, since the GIW wasn’t looking for his human identity, and Jazz helped him get everything he needed.

He… didn’t even have to buy a flight or something, since his speed could get him anywhere.

So, a bit anxiously, he traveled down to South America.

He had a pretty good time!

People were friendly and welcoming, excited to share the beauty they had with them and Danny found himself so much more interested in other cultures.

Being surrounded by languages, Spanish, Portuguese, and even some Indigenous ones became much easier to learn.

Traveling around wasn’t a problem, he often found people happy to take him in for a shower and a meal.

It wasn’t safe all the time, but it wasn’t because he was a ghost, which was somehow nicer.

With much less anxiety, he started to travel even more.

Africa was the obvious choice since it was the closest continent.

The main cities were rich with people and modern buildings, making him feel a bit out of place like he was in a cleaner version of Hollywood.

Going away from touristy sites, everything started to become more bare, the people still welcoming, but weary of noisy strangers. Wich was understandable, so next came Asia, then Europe, Australia, and Antarctica.

By the time Danny was in his twenties, he had pretty much visited almost every country on Earth. 

He was having fun, he really was, but in every new country he visited, he was reminded how much he wished he was waking up in his bed, spending the days with his family and friends.

Once, he met a guy in London, whose soul looked like Swiss cheese, that he helped with some ghost stuff. He was recognized as from America, so he explained what he was doing all the way in England. Apparently, the guy had connections with the Justice League and promised to help.

At several spots, he even met with Dani. Every time they saw each other, they remembered that, even if it was so diverse, the World was still very small.

He was in South Italy when his phone rang.

It wasn’t hard to keep in touch with his friends and family, sending them photos or even packages of stuff he found traveling.

He answered Jazz, as she started to cry happily about the Anti-Ecto Acts being revoked.

He… hadn’t actually believed Jonh.

His mind was blank, with her sister excitedly talking over the phone.

After five years.

He could go back home.

Dpxdc idea "Lost Fenton Protocol"

The Lost Fenton Protocol is a set of rules and procedures set in place for when, not if one of the Fenton children goes missing while out in a different city on a field trip.

It started when Jasmine Fenton, at the age of 9, got lost in Gotham and somehow found herself in Arkham Asylum having a deep conversation with Harley Quinn about the nuances of childhood developmental psychology. It is still unclear how she got inside. The only thing known for sure is that Harley Quinn, in the process of sneaking in to break out The Joker, found her roaming the halls and became distracted.

This was not the first time a Fenton was lost. However, it was the catalyst that prompted the creation of Lost Fenton Protocol.

Never thought I'd be eating Miraculous AU content too but I'm here for it

For the Viceroy AU, how does Tom figure out Gabriel was the one responsible?

The Finished Animatic!!!

I’m so excited to share this with everyone!! This is definitely the biggest project I’ve ever done before and I’m so proud with how it came out

Enjoy the little gay ghost guys!!!👻👻👻

Sound on folks

Me: *Sees colour green* Also me: Must draw Danny Phantom