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What if I'm the monster?
(lyric from Epic the musical)
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A King and a Prince
Danny screamed.
He screamed and screamed, using his ghostly wail until his voice shattered and his throat was raw with the echoes of his own agony. He wailed even after the battle was won. After the last of the GIW had fallen, even after Vlad’s final, gasping breath had faded into silence. He wailed as Amity Park crumbled around him, as the last flickering lights of his home were swallowed by ruin.
It didn’t matter.
No one was left to hear him.
No one left to be farmed by his despair.
He had outlasted them all—the Guys in White, Vlad, even Pariah Dark himself. He had survived, clawing his way through blood and betrayal, only to realize, too late, that survival was the cruelest fate of all.
He had lost everything.
His home—reduced to rubble. His friends—gone and buried beneath the wreckage of the school. Their last standing ground from the GIW's control or maybe blissfully scattered to the winds. His family—torn apart, mom and dad dead by his hands. Not purposely but they had picked their side. Jazz dead by theirs attempting to protect him. Their laughter, the happy family they were, now just a ghost in his hollow chest. His city, his obsession, his afterlife—all ashes, all dust. And what had he gained? A crown of thorns, a throne he never wanted. The title of King Phantom, ruler of the dead, sovereign of a graveyard empire.
He built a council. He forged a government. He crafted a system that could run without him—because he could not rule, not when every decree tasted of blood, not when every whisper of his subjects sounded like the voices of the lost. Not when he was so lost.
So he vanished.
Not in triumph, not in secrecy—but in surrender. He would sleep. Finally really sleep. He would sleep for centuries, for millennia even, until the worlds forgot his name. Until the stars themselves burned cold. Until even the memory of his suffering was nothing more than a sigh in the dark. And maybe, just maybe, if he slept long enough… he would forget, too.
Fate, it seemed, had other plans.
Danny awoke to crying.
Not the wailing of the long-dead, nor the hollow sobs of forgotten spirits—but the raw, shuddering pleas of someone new. A voice too young, too broken, gasping between tears:
"Please—"
"Dad, I’m sorry—"
"B, you promised—"
Danny blinked slowly, his limbs heavy from his long sleep. His mind swam in fog, his body sluggish, as if moving through deep water. But the sound, a sound too familiar to ignore, pulled him forward, guiding him through the mist of his own exhaustion until he found the source—a boy.
A small, bloodied thing in a torn costume of green and red and gold, hunched over his own grave.
Danny’s chest ached.
Oh.
A newly dead. A child. One so much like him, once. Danny watched him for awhile. Days maybe? It had been such a long time since he had needed to keep track of time... He stepped closer, his voice soft as settling dust. "Hey."
The boy jerked upright, his masked face streaked with inky tears. "You—you can see me?"
Danny huffed a quiet laugh. "Oh, so he does talk."
The boy stared, trembling, his breath hitching. Danny knelt—not too close, not too far—and tilted his head. "My name’s Danny. What about you?"
The boy opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "My name? My name is… My name is…?" His voice cracked, panic rising like a tide. "My name—my name—?" He didn't remember. Not many ghostlings did.
"Hey, hey," Danny murmured, reaching out—not to touch, but to offer. With a thought, he summoned a little blob ghost, its form wobbly and bright, and placed it gently in the boy’s lap. The creature nuzzled against him, purring like a gooy contented cat. The boy’s hands stilled. Then, hesitantly, he began to pet it.
Danny smiled. "A name doesn’t have to be a name," he said softly. "It can be anything you’d like."
The boy swallowed. "...Robin," he whispered. "I’m Robin."
"Robin," Danny repeated, like it was something precious. "It’s good to meet you, kid."
A beat of silence. Then, small and scared:
"Am I dead?"
Danny’s core clenched. He let himself float just a little, settling cross-legged in the air, making himself smaller, lesser. "You are," he admitted gently. "I’m sorry, Robin."
The boy—Robin—choked on a sob. "Is that why Dad wouldn’t—why he didn’t—?" Danny didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Robin crumpled.
Without thinking, Danny reached out and gathered him close, tucking the boy against his chest the way Jazz had once held him so very long ago—after bad nights, after bad fights, after the world had been too much. "I know," he murmured, rocking him slightly. "I know. It sucks. It’s not fair. But you’re not alone, okay? Never alone." Robin shuddered, his tiny fists clutching Danny’s cloak of stars. Danny felt the threats forming, a soul bond. He had had one will Elle, with clockwork, with few others. A bond of trust.
Danny didn’t hesitate. He let his ecto unwind, warm and golden green and royal, and carefully, so carefully, began to mend the fractures in Robin’s soul. The pain, the fear, the jagged edges of a death too soon and too violent. The death of someone trying to be a hero—he took them into himself, replacing the hurt with quiet, with safety. Slowly, Robin’s breathing evened. His weight grew heavy against Danny’s shoulder.
Asleep.
Not that ghosts needed sleep. But children did. Danny exhaled, looking around the graveyard—at the other small, lost shades watching from the shadows. His chest tightened.
…He could help them.
Just for today. Just for now. He could make Gotham a little lighter. And maybe, just maybe, it would help Robin, too—to have something familiar.
Robin followed Phantom like a shadow—or, more accurately, like a small, determined firefly, darting after the king’s trailing cloak as he moved through Gotham’s gloom. Honestly the child was a little beacon of light. Bright like a little firefly.
At first, he simply watched.
Phantom moved like a whisper between worlds—guiding lost shades toward peace, nudging lingering spirits toward unfinished business, even coaxing the living, stubborn bleeding-hearted vigilantes, into just the right places at just the right times. They never knew they were being helped, of course. But Robin saw.
And slowly, he began to copy.
A nudge here—a whisper there. A flicker of movement to draw a grieving widow’s eye to a hidden letter. A gentle tug on a cape to steer a batarang just wide enough to avoid a fatal blow. Gotham, ever so slightly, began to brighten.
And so did Robin. So much brighter than the dead boy Danny had met. He had even taught the boy to change his form from his one in death to a Robin in life. He was so much brighter not covered in blood and debris..
Phantom watched, warmth curling in his core, as the boy—his little prince—blossomed. Robin laughed as he flew, spinning through the air like a fallen leaf caught in the wind. He chattered to the other ghosts, coaxing even the shyest shades out of their hiding spots. He guided lost souls with a patience that belied his age, his voice soft but steady—"It’s okay, you’re safe now"—and when they finally faded into peace, he turned to Phantom with stars in his eyes.
"Did you see! I did it on my own!"
Phantom ruffled his hair. "Yeah, kid. I saw."
And oh, the way Robin glowed.
He was happy here. Happy to help, happy to fly, happy to tuck himself under Phantom’s arm after a long night and murmur about all the things he’d seen, all the people he’d saved. Gotham was still dark. But now, there were pinpricks of light—like stars or tiny, stubborn sparks—where before there had been none. And at the center of them all, brighter than any ghost light, was Robin.
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Miraculous Coccinella
Origins pt. 2, pt. 10
First - Previous - Next
Origins pt. 2 (Episode 2), pt. 10
First - Previous -Next
Episode 2 Index
Master Post
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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”
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The Man, The Myth, The Fanfic
dcxdp ficlet
When Danny first became Phantom he was desperate for guidance. He read every article and watched every video on every hero and vigilante known.
He started to fantasize about how Phantom and the wider hero community would meet. How they would help him, or see him in action and call him a hero. Ask him to team up.
He didn't realize others in his town were having the same fantasies about their local hero teaming up with the hot shots. (didn't realize he had become a heart throb)
Didn't realize that that meant there was fanfiction.
Fast forward a few years and he's a semi retired superhero living in Gotham or wherever, going to school trying to make ends meet. Normal person stuff.
He occasionally has to 'go ghost' to handle a wayward spirit or whatever but the world is pretty much past the need for him.
Justice League Dark occasionally hits him up for info or as an assist but it's unclear if they know Phantom and Fenton are the same person and it's far to late for Danny to ask at this point so he just goes with it.
Until JLD and The regular JL are working on something together and Danny gets called in as an expert.
Now, many, not all but many, of the other hero's are aware that there is fanfiction about them on the internet. The bat brood especially (if they are responsible for a fair bit of it-that was no one's business but theirs) was well aware of it. (and probably the Flashes)
So, they had come across these "Phantom teams up with the Justice League" fics over the years. They just assumed it was a meme character. An OC that had broken containment and become part of internet lore (especially since all the early versions were from the same few accounts with overlapping IP addresses).
And then 'Danny Phantom' himself floated in with the signature DP on his black hazmat suit.
They didn't realize it was him at first.
It had been YEARS since they'd read any fics with him in them. Tim had lost a whole ass spleen in that time.
So they introduced themselves and ignored the part of their brains that said they knew this guy. They figured they had met him as a civilian or when he was alive.
It was little things at first. A name drop here. A throw away line there. Details that seemed eerily familiar and all too foreign simultaneously.
Danny, for his part, still didn't know his classmates had written about him way back when. Had never drifted into those corners of the internet. Never had the time or a reason too. He was just happy to be able to help out the hero's he had spent so much of his life attempting to emulate.
And then one of his old rogues stopped by, demanding his attention.
They were easy to redirect.
Not even worth mentioning their appearance to Sam or Tucker later when they talked about their day/week.
Except. Their appearance and propensity for announcing their name and purpose for being there was specific enough to be remembered. Even years later by people who had only ever read angsty RPF self-insert versions written by teenagers.
Tim flagged it first, scrambled for his phone so he could pull up an old account and scroll back in his read history.
Barry wasn't far behind. (though he found the fics first). Then Cass.
While Danny was sending his frenemy home, his coworkers were busy having their world view upended. Because if Phantom was Real. And (at least one) of his foes was Real.
Then what else in those fics was real?
The alternate reality? Pirates only kids can see? Genies that take wishes too seriously? Government agents violating the MPA? The FENTONS!¿‽!‽ The whole town being taken to said alternate reality? Shrink rays? where was the line???
"Hey dude? Phantom?"
"hmm"
"Are you from Amity Park?"
"That is the name of my current haunt. Yes. uh...why?"
and then proceeded to be the most awkward and embarrassing few minutes of their lives as one came to the realization that there was fanfiction about him and his classmates (and his parents) and the others admitted to having read said stories in their free time.
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AU where Jason gets over his theatre-kid need for dramatics and heat never reveals his identity to the batfam. In fact, he HIDES his identity so well that no one ever finds it out. It’s been years since Red Hood popped up and at this point he’s an unofficial vigilante with crime lord tendencies than anything else
then people start getting suspect . . . But not the right thing
Red hood: *sitting, legs crossed, on a roof ledge* scare me and make me drop my book and l don’t care if you helped me with Penguin last night, I’ll throw you off this roof and I won’t give a shit Nightwing: *slowly jacks away* um. What book? Red hood: pride and prejudice. Nightwing: pride and . . . You know, my brother liked that book. Red hood: I know he did Nightwing:
Damian: *feeling uncertain with his title as Robin* Red Hood: you know, a wise kid once said Robin is magic Batman: *eyes narrow* what kid? Red Hood: eh, just someone I used to know Batman:
Spoiler: so why did ya decide to protect the alley? Red Hood: I lived there as a kid. I . . . Uh, it just means a lot to me. Spoiler: *frowning* I assumed you’d lived there. Red Hood: yeah it um . . . *thinking of Bruce* I met someone important there. He changed my life. And when . . . I, uh, lost him, I decided to clean it up. Spoiler:
Later, in the bat cave:
Spoiler: so Red Hood . . . Batman: *gravely* dated Jason. Nightwing: but he was only fifteen! Robin: *crossing his arms* people date at fifteen, Richard. Red Robin: . . . The crime lord dated the second Robin. Batman: I’m going to kill him. Nightwing: wait, no! You can’t! Jason wouldn’t have wanted it! Black Bat: he’s family. Spoiler: *jazz hands* NEW BROTHER
Red Hood: *listening in through their comms* what the fuck
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Tim, in his moment of sleep deprivation, had an idea. He modified a roomba and armed it with bat gear.
Still in pajamas, he stepped out the manor, sets the roomba down and watches it heads towards the gate. "Be free my child" Tim mumbled. This was witnessed by a bewildered Duke from his bedroom window.
The following week, Batman is glaring down at Tim while holding the rooba in his hand. It terrorised the underworld to the point that Batman thought there was a new player in the city.
Bruce caught the rooba cornering a crying criminal in an alleyway. It hasn't even deployed a gadget, it's just there.
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As much as I like a good bashing fic in the Harry Potter fanfic tag, there nothing quite like a story where Ron is the most loyal motherfucker you’ve ever fucking seen
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people don't talk enough about how fucking funny it is that bruce can sub in his kids as batman when he's too busy. like can you imagine it from the league's perspective? imagine you have this really mysterious, geniusly scary guy that you know next to nothing about, never cracks a smile and yet always comes out on top, and one day he shows up to a league meeting and there's just something... off. about him.
you can't pin it down because he's literally acting exactly the same as usual and there's no reason to think there's anything wrong, but maybe he shifted in his seat one to many times, or he looked just a tad bit too bored during green lantern's case review, but something's just... odd. so you quietly ask superman after the meeting if anything's up with the bat bcs you know those two are closer and also clark can hear heartbeats so if something's wrong surely he'll pick it up? and without hesitation he leans over to you and mumbles 'yeah batman was busy, that's his 17 yr old son. he's a crime lord and kills people sometimes though so we're not allowed to let him into the weapons department.' and then walks away like it's normal.
like the whiplash the league must go through every time they realise that no, this is not their fearless dark and brooding leader, this is in fact one of his dipshit kids being forced to sub in bcs the real batman broke an ankle, is incredible.
wonder woman: so that's my proposed plan, what are your thoughts batman?
batman: hn. i think that- *voice raising two octaves* oh shit hold on my phones buzzing
the league:
batman, answering the phone and immediately dropping the Bat Posture™: what do you mean- aw come on little wing that's not fair! but- no, NO DON'T YOU DARE TELL ALFRED I'LL BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU- IM SORRY OK I'LL BUY YOU MORE- *catches sight of the league watching him, baffled* *stiffens* ok listen i promise to replace them but i gotta go, please show me mercy iloveyoubye *hangs up*
the league:
batman:
batman: *coughs awkwardly*
superman: *sighs*
batman, to superman: ...red hood found out i ate his chocolate pretzels-
superman, shaking his head: just... just stop.
the flash: so this isn't batman either, is it?
wonder woman: if this one's also a criminal im losing my mind.
superman, tiredly: no no, this one isn't a criminal. this one's actually a cop.
batman: *sinks down in his seat* b's gonna kill me
green lantern, mystified: where does he keep GETTING you all from!?
'batman' dick, who made a pact with jason to Always Fuck With Bruce Whenever The Opportunity Arises: batman is a whore.
they think they've finally sussed out all 2 of batman's kids and then one day during a meeting 'batman' ends up on a 30 minute rant about different hacking methods this tech villain could be using that results in him half way through a sentence breaking off to say '-oh uncle clark could you pass me that pen- thanks, anyway so-' and then five minutes after that when the league have all been exchanging incredulous looks he finally freezes and is like. SHIT.
wonder woman: you're different from the other two, aren't you?
batman: maybe i am maybe i'm not, you can't prove it.
wonder woman:
green lantern: so like, are you new or have you just managed to avoid sub duty up until now?
superman, coughing: actually, this is this ones ninth occasion of replacing batman. you've just never realised before.
the league:
batman: yeah actually the other two are kinda mad i lasted longer than them...
the flash: how the fuck does he keep getting kids with the exact same build as him!??!?
'batman' tim, spent 20 minutes padding the suit out so he would look the part, still mad that bruce keeps palming WE work off on him: oh he forces us to take steroids for it.
the league, concerned:
superman, pinching the bridge of his nose: now come on red robin-
batman, fully tearing up and looking distraught: PLEASE uncle clark, it HURTS, you can't keep COVERING FOR HIM!
superman, frantically to the league: this one lies.
bonus
the league, squinting at batman:
the league: ...
superman: *head in his hands, too disappointed to do anything*
the league: *silently exchanging looks, wondering if anybody's brave enough to say anything*
duke as batman, fully aware this is fucking stupid but jason and tim fell on the floor laughing when dick came up with the idea and frankly, he wanted to see if anybody would have to guts to call him out: so, are we all ready to start the meeting?
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i was thinking abt this animatic and i don’t think i ever posted the full thing here? just the link to the youtube video. so here’s the full vid 😭
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‘Do Not Open’ is still one of my favorite episodes because of this absolute legend. He’s at the top of my list of badass people who survived encounters because they just ain’t with that shit.
An icon.
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