phoenixgrl1412

[phoenixgrl1412]

"Diplomacy for the Feral and the Damned"

Bruce had just sat down in the Batcave with his second cup of post-patrol coffee—black as his mood, strong enough to keep a Kryptonian awake—when his private line buzzed. Not the Batline. Not the board line. The one buried so deep in encryption and passive-aggressive threats that even Oracle called it “Extra-Paranoid Mode.”

He stared. [Incoming Call: Vladimir Masters]

Bruce blinked. “…Oh, this is going to be a day.”

He answered with the flat monotone that had driven Gotham’s underworld into therapy. “Vlad.”

The holographic screen flickered to life—and there he was. Vladimir Masters, looking every inch the eccentric billionaire and possibly more ghost than man now. Silver-haired, in a robe that screamed “I paid three million for this and regret nothing,” surrounded by classical art, levitating books, and the faint crackle of ectoplasmic interference. The whole aesthetic screamed “If Lex Luthor was haunted by a Victorian novelist.”

Vlad beamed. “Brucie!”

Bruce’s eye twitched. “Don’t call me that.”

“It’s lovely to hear your voice, dear cousin. It’s been too long.”

Jason, eavesdropping from the shadows with popcorn, whispered, “Wait. Cousin? Since when do we have that brand of family drama?”

“Shh,” Tim muttered, scribbling something labeled Possible Interdimensional Ghost Cousins Conspiracy.

“I need your advice,” Vlad continued. “Something very personal. Deeply serious.”

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What now, Vlad?”

Vlad leaned forward, the screen staticking briefly. “How do you get your children to be civil with you?”

There was silence. Real, echoing, existential silence.

“…I wasn’t aware you had adopted children, Vlad,” Bruce said slowly, like trying not to scare off a rabid raccoon.

“I haven’t. Not technically,” Vlad said breezily. “But my godson is staying with me. Lovely boy. Has the appetite of a black hole and the sense of self-preservation of a rabid badger.”

“...Oh god,” whispered Dick, “he sounds like all of us.”

“Cute that Masters thinks we’re civil,” Damian sniffed. “How charmingly misinformed.”

“Wait. He said godson?” Tim asked, eyes lighting up. “Do you think—could it be—Phantom?”

Vlad didn’t notice the peanut gallery commentary. “The boy has caused four minor diplomatic incidents, bitten a baron, vanished into the ceiling during a formal gala, and accused a senator of being a reptilian. Which turned out to be accurate, but the delivery was unkind.”

Bruce squinted. “That sounds like… Dick, Damian, and Tim at the Wayne Foundation Spring Gala ‘19.”

“I know!” Vlad pointed at him like a man discovering fire. “That’s exactly what I said! He’s like your sons! In one small, glowing, vaguely feral body!”

“Glowing?” Steph mouthed. “Definitely Phantom.”

“So, cousin dearest,” Vlad purred. “How do you get them to listen? How do you parent the chaos incarnate?”

Bruce took a long, tired sip of his coffee and simply said, “I don’t.”

“…You don’t?”

“I survive it.”

“Bold of him to call this survival,” muttered Cass as Jason started texting Alfred for cookies and emotional support.

“Each one is an unpredictable event wrapped in trauma and tactical gear,” Bruce continued flatly. “They will not listen. They may occasionally pretend to. But only after chaos. Much, much chaos.”

Vlad sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So there’s no secret Wayne method? No clever strategy?”

“...Cookies?” Bruce offered.

From beneath the desk, something gnawed at Vlad’s ankle.

He glanced down and hissed, “Danny, stop that, I told you we don’t bite family!”

“He said that senator looked like a snake,” came the muffled voice. “And I was right.”

Vlad groaned. “Why couldn’t he just be one kind of disaster? Why all of them?”

Jason grinned. “I like this kid.”

“New cousin,” Steph agreed. “Absolutely chaotic. Ten outta ten.”

Vlad looked back up at Bruce. “So. No help?”

Bruce looked thoughtful. “Keep fire extinguishers on hand. Avoid hosting events near chandeliers. Always assume they have at least two hidden weapons. And get used to being called ‘Dad’ at the most inconvenient political moments.”

A pause.

“Also,” he added, “tell him you’re proud. Even when he’s a disaster. Especially then.”

Vlad blinked. “...That worked for you?”

Bruce glanced around the cave. Steph had stolen Tim’s notes and was writing “FERAL COUSIN CLUB” across the top. Jason was already planning a trip to Amity Park. Damian was silently judging the snack selection of this new relative. And Dick was on his phone already texting Danny memes.

“…Eventually,” Bruce muttered.

“Charming,” Vlad sighed.

From under the desk: crunch.

“Danny! Stop chewing my furniture!”

Danny peeked out, sharp-toothed grin gleaming, eyes flickering green. “Tell B-man I wanna go to one of those galas next time. I wanna meet chandelier boy.”

Jason fist-pumped. “YES.”

Bruce just sighed. “...I’ll warn the staff.”

[phoenixgrl1412]

“Meet the Parents (And Their Armory)”

When Danny said, “You guys should meet my parents,” the Batkids had collectively paused.

Jason: “Aren’t those the ones who tried to dissect you?”

Danny: “They got better.”

Damian: “You are very casual about attempted vivisection.”

Danny: “Welcome to the Fenton family, baby.”

Dick: “This can’t possibly go wrong.”

Steph: “Famous last words.”

FentonWorks — Amity Park

The Batkids stepped out of the Fenton RV, staring up at the lime green, Frankenstein’d-together house with a giant ectoplasmic turret on top.

Tim whispered, “That building violates every safety code I’ve ever studied.”

“Which means it’s perfect,” Jason grinned.

The front door burst open.

“DANNY-BOY!” Jack Fenton roared, charging out in a hazmat suit and hugging Danny so hard he phased to avoid cracked ribs.

“And these must be your little friends!” Maddie beamed. “Are they in your ghost hunting club? Vigilante group? Paranormal protection gang?”

Jason: “...Yes.”

Inside the Lab

Danny’s siblings (by chaos, not blood) stood in awe-slash-terror as Jack proudly showed off the Fenton Arsenal™.

“We’ve got Ecto-Blasters, Specter Snare Cannons, the Ghost Gabber 9000—”

“That one doesn’t do anything,” Danny stage-whispered. “It just yells ghost puns.”

“—and of course, my favorite,” Jack said, hefting a glowing, bazooka-sized monstrosity, “The Fenton Anti-Creep Stick™!”

“Can I hold it?” Jason asked immediately.

Danny: “You really, really shouldn’t—”

Jack: “You absolutely can!”

Danny: “—oh god.”

Jason grinned like a kid in a candy store as he hoisted the Anti-Creep Stick and blew a crater in the backyard. “I LOVE YOUR DAD.”

Gift Time

“So!” Maddie chirped. “We made each of you a custom ghost-defense item!”

Danny: “...Please be small.”

They were not.

Jason got a pair of twin ecto-revolvers — glowing green, sleek, with ghost-seeking tech embedded in the handles. He was in love.

Tim got a pocket-sized spectral scanner that unfolded into a full laptop. (“It hacks through dimensions,” Maddie said proudly. Tim nearly cried.)

Damian was gifted a miniaturized spectral scimitar. Jack added, “It sings your theme song when it powers up!” Damian smiled — a terrifying, sharp little smile.

Steph got an ectoplasm glitter bomb launcher. She immediately set it off in the kitchen. Maddie was delighted.

Dick received ecto-infused grappling hooks that let him swing through walls. He hugged both parents on the spot.

Later That Night

The Batkids lounged on beanbags in Danny’s room, covered in marshmallow goo from Fenton family s’mores night.

Steph: “Your mom tackled a ghost into the barbecue pit.”

Tim: “Your dad gave me a hug that cracked my ribs.”

Jason (stroking his new guns lovingly): “I’m moving in.”

Danny: “You’ll regret that at 3AM when the fridge starts screaming.”

Damian: “Your father attempted to high-five me. I allowed it. Once.”

Danny snorted. “He’s gonna cry from happiness later.”

Meanwhile, in the Fenton Kitchen

Maddie sipped her tea. “They’re good kids.”

Jack nodded, eyes misty. “Do you think if we adopt them too, we can finally start that Ghost Hero Team I always wanted?”

Maddie smiled. “Let’s give them snacks first.”

Group Chat: [Batfam + Phantom of the Groupchat]

Jason: Can I call your dad Pops?

Danny: ...I literally do not have the power to stop you.

Steph: i want to go back next weekend. ghost dodgeball rematch.

Damian: I defeated the kitchen specter with honor. Fenton called it a “heckin’ good whack.”

Tim: I still don’t know how the toaster is haunted.

Dick: Best parents. A+++ would let them arm me again.

Danny: they’re already building a tank for you.

Bruce: WHAT DO YOU MEAN "A TANK"

Danny: Too late B. You’re a Fenton by association now 😎

[phoenixgrl1412]

I love dp x DC stories in which Ghost King Danny is summoned in his full Eldritch form and scaring the shit out of everyone. I also like it when it combines with aus of him talking in ghost speak and the translation gets wrangled, so he sounds a lot more threatening than he means to.

But in those stories ... his name doesn't really fit. What Eldritch God would be called Danny? Even Phantom isn't that scary.

Then I realized that if ghost speak gets translates wrongly and Danny said his name in ghost speak ... wouldn't it be translated wrong too?

And Daniel means God is my Judge in Hebrew while Phantom of course is a kind of ghost.

So,

The Justice League has summoned Danny and he doesn't realize that he's in his Eldritch form. His skin is black and filled with galaxies constantly being born and dying. His eyes are two endless black holes. His hair is the flash of the big bang. He's terrifying and awe-inspiring.

As he speaks, it sounds like millions of beings screaming in agony before breathing their last breath.

And then Danny says "Hi! My name is Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, how can I help you?"

But what the JL hears through the translation is: "I am the Judge of Gods and the restless Dead, Ruler of the Infinite, for what purpose hath thee summoned me?"

Now that's a fitting name!

[phoenixgrl1412]

Operation: Gaslight the Billionaires”

aka: How Danny Phantom Accidentally Became the Perfect Wayne

The chaos of the Batcave had mostly settled. Danny had been with them for three days, and Vlad Masters was officially on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

It wasn’t the ghost attacks. It wasn’t even the rogue AI that tried to merge with the espresso machine (thanks, Tim). It was the fact that Danny was actively making him look insane.

Bruce entered the kitchen expecting the usual post-patrol disaster: someone bleeding, Jason frying something suspicious, Damian glaring at vegetables like they insulted his honor, and Tim unconscious on the table with a Red Bull IV.

Instead… the kitchen was sparkling.

Alfred was humming. HUMMING. And Danny?

Danny was wearing an apron that said “I cook with spirit (and some ectoplasm)” and was gently stirring a pot of something that smelled incredible. He handed Alfred a tray of prepped vegetables with the air of a beloved sous-chef in a Michelin-starred restaurant.

“Knife is clean and set aside, Mr. Pennyworth. Do you want the counter disinfected again before the meat’s on?”

Alfred smiled. Smiled. “That won’t be necessary, Master Daniel. You’ve done splendidly.”

Bruce stood in the doorway like a man waiting for a piano to fall on him. “…Who is this child?”

Alfred replied calmly, “The most helpful young man we’ve had in this kitchen in years. I daresay Master Richard could learn a thing or two.”

Danny looked up, beamed at Bruce, and said, “Good morning! You want coffee? I just finished a batch of Colombian roast. Tim said you like it strong enough to dissolve crime.”

Tim, from under the counter where he’d been sleeping with a tablet as a pillow: “That’s not even a joke. I’ve seen it eat through one of Damian’s throwing knives.”

Bruce walked over and took the mug Danny handed him. It was the perfect temperature. The exact strength he liked. He took a sip.

His soul briefly ascended.

“…This is better than Alfred’s.”

Alfred gave an approving nod. “Indeed. I showed him once.”

Vlad stormed into the room like a man preparing to perform an exorcism. His hair was frazzled, one of his slippers was missing, and there was what looked suspiciously like slime on his sleeve.

“BRUCE. Tell me honestly, what have you done to him?”

Bruce blinked. “To Danny? Nothing.”

“HE MADE A THREE-COURSE MEAL AND ASKED IF I WANTED A MIDNIGHT TEA.”

“I like being helpful,” Danny said, halo practically visible. “Uncle Vlad gets stressed so easily.”

“I DO NOT—!”

“He also helped Damian organize the armory,” Alfred added serenely.

“Color-coded the blades,” Damian muttered, glaring slightly less than usual. “And sharpened them.”

Jason walked in, paused, sniffed the air. “Is that real garlic bread? Did we finally break the food curse?”

Danny handed him a plate. “You should eat. You looked hangry yesterday.”

Jason stared at him. “I could kill for you.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t.”

“Nice. Boundaries.”

Vlad was gaping. “You are all being tricked! This is an act! He’s a little gremlin with teeth! He ate my briefcase!”

Danny blinked innocently. “It smelled like almonds. I thought it was marzipan.”

“IT WAS NOT MARZIPAN.”

Cass wandered in, stole a breadstick, and gave Danny a high-five. “Nice work.”

Vlad turned to Bruce, furious and hollow-eyed. “This is not fair. He fought a space god last week, and now he’s making quiche.”

Bruce just shrugged. “Some people contain multitudes.”

“He bit a vampire diplomat in Prague.”

“He was undead and had no permit for summoning circles,” Danny added cheerfully. “Also, he was rude to the hotel staff.”

Stephanie peeked in. “Did I hear someone say quiche?”

“Spinach and mushroom,” Danny called.

“I’m going to implode,” Vlad whispered to the heavens.

Danny wiped his hands and turned to Vlad with a kind, innocent smile. “Uncle Vlad, I know it’s hard to accept, but maybe… I’ve matured?”

Vlad squinted. “You turned your teacher’s car invisible three weeks ago.”

“She parked in the ghost zone exit lane,” Danny said, wounded. “I was helping traffic.”

Bruce sipped his coffee and studied the boy who had seamlessly infiltrated his house like a social trojan horse. “How did you convince him to stay with you again?”

“I blackmailed the adoption agency and offered full scholarship access, six haunted properties, and a personal lab,” Vlad muttered.

“Reasonable,” Tim said. “Sounds like a good pitch.”

Bruce looked at Danny. “Would you like to stay a bit longer?”

Vlad: “No.”

Danny: “Sure!”

Jason: “New little brother unlocked.”

Vlad looked down into his empty tea mug like it had betrayed him. “This is how I die. In a Wayne manor. Smothered by domestic competency and passive-aggressive hospitality.”

Danny patted his arm. “It’s okay, Uncle Vlad. Want me to make you some chamomile?”

Vlad hissed like a vampire at dawn.

[phoenixgrl1412]

Manifest Destiny

AKA "Danny knows about Bruce Wayne's little adoption habit, so he actively fights back by making digs at the older man's age. He doesn't realize he essentially adopted himself by calling Bruce 'grandpa'!" prompt idea!!

Okay, so 19-year-old Jazz moves to Gotham because Arkham has an psychiatrist internship that guarantees a job after graduation from Gotham-U. She takes a 12-13 year old Danny with because the "ghost attacks" (i.e., her parents are getting very obsessed with dissecting Phantom and it's genuinely worrying) are getting worse. Now Danny's in Gotham Prep... along with Damian Wayne.

They do not get along.

Damian stabs Danny with a pencil, Danny bites Damian so hard that he needs stitches, and the detentions only increase their bloodthirst because, "He started it!!" It comes to a head when Damian shoves Danny down the stairs (he wasn't really meaning to, he just pushed too hard), and Danny goes down hard. As in not-getting-back-up kind of hard. And Damian realizes he just killed a civilian. He's running through contingency plans, trying to figure out whether he can hide the body or if he should confess to Father, when the Fenton boy's broken neck... becomes un-broken?? And he sits up??

So, 13-year-old Damian makes a logical decision. Daniel Fenton is clearly his Arch Nemesis. He's undeniably a meta (perhaps with super-healing abilities?) so he can withstand Damian's too-enthusiastic violence. And Danny's like, this fucker just killed me. I'm going to beat his ass. Except Damian has a really high pain tolerance and is literally the heir to the League of Assassins. Long story short, Damian and Danny have "play dates" where they spend the entire time trying to kill/beat each other up. Jazz is just happy that Danny seems to have made a friend.

Bruce, on the other hand, takes one look at a scrawny, black-haired, blue-eyed kid who clearly has some childhood trauma, and mentally becomes Bat Dad. He tried to approach the subject once. Bruce carefully, tentatively asked, "Do you have a place to stay, son? We have plenty of rooms." To which Danny replied, "I'm not your son, I have a dad!! Why don't you go sit down before you break a hip, grandpa!!" (Tim choked on his tea, Damian nearly climbed across the table to strangle Danny, and Dick - who doesn't even live at the manor, he was just dropping off a case from Bludhaven PD - laughed so hard he cried.)

Except... Danny keeps coming over to the Wayne Manor (since Damian refuses to 'spar' at Jazz's one bedroom apartment, as it lacks a personal gymnasium). And Bruce is still kind, no matter how many times Danny makes fun of him for wearing bifocals or turtlenecks, or when he just straight up calls Bruce an old man. Plus, Damian's kind of mellowed out, too. He's teaching Danny actual sparring techniques, hand-to-hand combat, and explains different types of weapons/how to use them. Alfred brings the boys snacks. Occasionally Dick and Jason will visit for dinner, ruffling the boy's hair and joking about something or another. He's even introduced to Steph, Cass, and Barbara.

It dawns on Danny one evening, when Alfred is readying the car to take him back to his and Jazz's apartment. Bruce is scraping leftovers into a plastic container for Jazz to re-heat when he gets home and Danny's debating quietly with Damian about whether octopi are smarter than Superman. (Damian says yes, octopi are definitely smarter; he's seen Superman mutter to himself "lefty loosey, righty tighty" when trying to unscrew a water bottle cap.)

Then Bruce is handing Danny the leftovers, and Danny distractedly gives Bruce a side-hug, saying, "Thanks, grandpa."

Totally unironically. Danny's internal monologue is just what the fuck did I just say as Bruce slips him a $20 ("For a treat on the way home.") and escorts him to the front door. He thinks about it as Alfred drives him home. Thinks about it when he and Jazz curl up to watch a movie that night. Danny belatedly realizes that he's been unintentionally thinking of Bruce "Serial Adopter" Wayne as his grandfather??? For months now?? How could this happen??

Back at the Wayne Manor, Bruce is still in the kitchen, listening to Damian continue to debate Superman's intelligence while Tim scrolls on his work tablet. He'll probably take the kids, including the newest edition to the family, to the zoo this weekend.

[phoenixgrl1412]

I love the idea of Feral Child Danny just randomly biting one of the bats because they’re in his Alley. Like, Dick is just trying to follow a criminal and suddenly Danny just latches onto his leg and refuses to let go.

[phoenixgrl1412]

Dead on Main Sugar Daddy

AKA "Ghost King Danny unintentionally becomes Jason "Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss" Todd's sugar daddy" prompt!

This is kind of a continuation of Graveyard Favors, but not really lmao.

I just love the idea of Jason coming back from the dead, wearing all Expensive Clothes and literally ancient cursed jewelry, and Bruce is just like, "Where did you get that? I didn't buy it for you. You haven't used your allowance either?" And Jason's obviously not going to admit he has the High King of Infinite Realms, Space, and the Dead as a sugar daddy. (Maybe he would, he's a dramatic theatre kid at heart, but it's funnier if he just straight up lies.)

He says, "I'm literally a crime lord, old man, keep up?? Jesus."

But the more he thinks about it, the more he actually likes the idea. Jason wants to help people, make sure they never experience the same fate he did, and where else to do it than the place he grew up? He knows there are tons of kids he can help, families who have a lack of resources. He's not afraid to get his hands dirty - he's already killed the Joker.

So, Jason calls up his Ghost King sugar daddy, points to Crime Alley, and is like, "I want that."

Danny, in Tucker's ratty Amity-U hoodie and ripped jeans, cheesepuff sticking halfway out of his mouth, "What???"

Danny declares Crime Alley as Jason's Haunt. It's officially Jason's territory in both the human realm and the Ghost Zome; conveniently, that also means that no supernatural (dead or alive) can enter the territory without Jason knowing. It also makes Crime Alley emit major Do Not vibes. Bad guys feel this Dread of being watched constantly, residents feel a bit safer knowing there's somebody who will help if they're in danger, and Jason patrols often enough that everybody starts to associate him as the local crime lord. He also uses Danny's money to invest in some social programs in Crime Alley, like open access food pantries, shelters, domestic violence & sexual assault support, a community garden, little libraries, funding for after school activities, etc.

Because the former Ghost King is absolutely loaded. Danny has eons of old stuff piled in his throne room in the Ghost Zone from Aztec Gold to alien technology. He's not using it and nobody's gonna miss it, so if Jason asks for it, Danny gives it to him. (Does he know Jason is selling it for an absolute shitton of money? Maybe, maybe not. He doesn't really care where it ends up as long as it won't cause the apocalypse.)

So, yeah, that's how Jason actually becomes the crime lord of Crime Alley.

[phoenixgrl1412]

Co-Parenting Clones

AKA "Dead on Main idea where Jason Todd accidentally-on-purpose adopts kid!Dani and Dan without realizing their 'father' is literally the High King of Infinite Realms, Space, and the Dead" prompt!

Ngl, this is somewhat inspired by that one family who's cat had another family and they didn't realize until the cat came back in a little outfit.

Imagine 10-year-old Dani in an Etsy Phantom hoodie and 14-year-old Dan with a spiky bedazzled jacket. Jason's like, "What's that?? I didn't buy that for you??" And they say, no, our other dad did!! :)

And then it just kind of morphs into a divorced-parents-getting-back-together trope where Jason casually mentions his "kids' dad" and people just assume he's separated. Why should he correct them? He's never met this "Danny" guy, but he's still Dan & Dani's other dad and they clearly love him. So what if people end up calling Jason "Danny's husband"? (He doesn't know why Constantine called him the "King's consort" that one time and Constantine really didn't have time to explain before Jason straight-up decked him in the face.)

Danny, who's probably in his 20s or something at this point, is just eating ramen when Sam and Tucker bust into his apartment.

"When were you going to tell us you were married to the Red Hood?? The Crime Prince of Gotham?? Danny, you're married to a legitimate crime lord???"

Danny, noodle hanging out of mouth: What??

So, yeah, that's how Danny finds out he's apparently married. Clearly, Danny has to go searching this evil-ass Cursed City for his wayward clone kids and find out who his "husband" is.

[phoenixgrl1412]

Danny: Why are you so angry?

Damian: How dare you speak to me, peasant.

Danny: Saying things like that, make it hard for people to approach you.

Damian: Good.

Danny: .....I like it. It gives you moxy. We're best friends now.

Damian: What?

Danny: I'm Danny Fenton by the way. Here this is my phone number. I'll message you when I get on Doom. You play viedo games right?

Damian: No.

Danny: That's okay. I can teach you.

Damian: I'll deliver you to the Grim Reaper

Danny: Oh, cool, a Goth! I had a friend just like you-

Damian: Why would I care about-

Danny: This means I know you would love to go to Dark Poetry Night and an environmental clean-up art event on the same day. *Hands over flyer* I can pick you up around three, and we can get dinner, then make it to poetry night. What time is your curfew

Damian wide eye: Father expects me to be in bed at ten pm.

Danny *nodding*: I'll get you home by nine then.

Damian breathlessly: Okay.....

Danny: Great! Later! I'll text you!

Damian: What....what just happened?

Tim: You just experienced why Brucie Wayne is so powerful in the galas. That's what happened.

[phoenixgrl1412]

The new hire

The Wayne Manor is a very large building with a large list of things that needed tending to. While Alfred takes pride in his ability in being the Wayne family butler, he is not too proud to admit that he does need help in maintaining the manor.

So he hired a part time maid!

A young lady named Jasmine, who is a student at Gotham University and is taking care of her younger siblings.

She's well behaved, doesn't complain, cleans well, doesn't steal, and has enough sass in her to deal with any of the batfamily's attitude.

One time she even stopped a group of burglars all by herself. When Alfred had come to check on her, he was met with the sight of Jazz having tied them up while lecturing them about their life choices and helping them find a better job.

So when he agrees to meeting with Jazz's brother to see if he'd be perfect to help with the jobs that needed heavy lifting or hard work. He is met with a 6'10 very muscled man with sharp teeth and flaming hair.

"This is my... twin brother! Dan!" Jazz introduces the man who Alfred.

[phoenixgrl1412]

Immortal Everlasting Trio who have been exploring the Infinite Realms for the last few centuries. The three of them are flying, braiding their paths as they make their way through the Realms.

“How do you think Ellie is doing in her current incarnation?” Nightshade asks of her partners,

“Hmm probably well, she was exploring the galaxy this time right? I could always check?” Pharaoh responds, a keyboard made of sandstone appears at his fingertips.

“She feels content.” Said Phantom, soothing the worries of the other two. The stars that are freckles on his face brighten with the comment.

They swirl around each other in lazy patterns, unknowing of the passage of time, when Phantom feels a tug at his core. The trio circle up, his partners noticing the shift in mood.

“I don’t recognize this one.” He mutters to himself, placing a hand on the center of his chest. “It’s none of the family, but it is a bit familiar.” He furrowed his brow, trying to trace the sensation to its source. He closed his eyes and felt the pull of magic. “It doesn’t feel malicious, there’s desperation and curiosity for sure, but I feel no ill intent.” He thought for a moment. “I’m going to follow it. I want to know why this feels familiar”

Nightshade formed a purple bloom and tucked it behind one of his ears and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Be safe.”

Pharaoh gently took his hand and kissed it, bestowing a glass bangle to his wrist. “Don’t make stupid decisions,” he smirked, “without us.”

Phantom laughed and in a flash of bright white light he was gone.

* * *

With a flash of light so bright it temporarily blinded, Phantom appeared in a summoning circle. The room he now occupied was large, a massive sofa made up a good portion of the room and there was a kitchen off to the side. Turning around, there was a large screen with even larger windows behind it. He turned back and now saw the people in the room.

One was green with a unitard on, one was sitting criss cross in front of some candles, a book and a small cauldron, one was floating and had a mass of bright pink hair, one was a cyborg of some kind and stood at the ready with a cannon for an arm and the last was shielding his eyes with a black cape.

“Who summons me?” Phantom asked in a far quieter tone than the teens apparently expected.

The one who appeared to have done the ritual stood and spoke first. “Mighty Phantom, we seek your assistance in dealing with a massive threat to our world. The demon Trigon looks to the Earth as his next conquest.” They took a breath and looked down. “He intends to use my power to do it, and I do not have the strength to stop him.”

Phantom settled his feet on the ground and placed a hand on their shoulder. “Peace young one. Why don’t we start with introductions? As you know, I am Phantom, he/him, now who has managed to summon me?”

“I am Raven, she/her, the rest here are my team the Teen Titans.” She turned to her team, they all seemed shocked. “I apologize for them, usually they take things in stride a lot easier. This is Beast Boy, he/him, Starfire she/her, Cyborg, he/him, and Robin, he/him.”

“Hmm, may I see the text you used to summon me?” He gestured to the book on the floor. “I was not aware of anything that could summon me in this realm. It is familiar to me though, I can’t place why.”

Raven raised the book into his hand. He leafed through it humming to himself before stopping on a photo of a note that looked familiar. He smiled to himself, remembering the time a century ago to him that himself and his partners helped a small civilization and they left a way for the leader to contact them if they needed help. He skimmed the next few paragraphs and then laughed and closed the book.

“I’ll help. In fact, my partners and I will help. It’s been a long while since we were in a mortal realm. I will return in a week’s time your time to discuss what we need to do. This will work to summon us if we forget or if your danger arrives early.” He magicked a paper with a seal on it and handed it to her. “I must discuss with my partners and will do research on this Trigon. Thank you for calling us, we’ve been aimless for too many decades. Have a good night.” He vanished in another flash of light.

* * *

Phantom appeared in a flash of light cackling as he tumbled across the chess board his partners were playing on, scattering the flowers and sandstone pieces across the green sky.

“Beloved you know not to do that,” Nightshade gathered the giggling king into her lap, Pharaoh moving to lean against her shoulder and push the hair from the eyes of Phantom, “but what has you laughing so?”

Phantom mimed wiping a tear from his eye. “Remember that civilization we helped out a century ago? Well apparently a few hundred years have passed in that world and the people we helped revered us as gods. A sorceress summoned us for help defeating a demon. They were so cute, little teenage heroes like we once were.” He sighed and settled into the arms of his lovers. “Have either of you heard of Trigon?”

[phoenixgrl1412]

Danny is captured by the GIW. He's bound in anti-ghost containment shackles and trapped inside an anti-ghost cage, in the back of a truck, on it's way to a place he'll probably never be able to escape from.

His mom and dad won't know what happened to him. His friends will have an idea but won't be able to do anything about it.

There were no ghosts around that saw him get captured aside from Boxy, who is in the Thermos that the GIW have placed in another cage across from him.

Danny is well and truly fucked.

"...So they probably didn't think to make this soundproof, if they were focusing on making it so I couldn't even try to Wail. Hey, Superman, if you can hear me, I swear I'm not a bad guy; and even if I was, I don't think you'd think it's okay to vivisect me. Or experiment on me. Or, like, torture me for the rest of my existence, basically. You don't seem like that kind of guyyyyyyy-!"

Danny tries to brace himself as the truck is jerked into the air and stays there.

Then it lands in the middle of nowhere, the two GIW drivers are yanked out of the truck, and the back door is ripped open.

Supergirl stands there, and after taking a few deep breaths to stop looking so terrifyingly angry, she waves at Danny.

"Hope you don't mind, Superman's off-planet right now."

[phoenixgrl1412]

Danny, after running away moving to Gotham a few months ago begins making little commentary videos on a social media app.

It was fine and all with mostly friends viewing them up until his meta gene activated. He didn't even know he had a meta gene and kinda figured any of the ghost stuff he did as Phantom would have activated it if he did have one. Nope!

His newest video started out with him wearing a red beanie, "Hey guys! You know how I just moved to Gotham a few months ago? Well, turns out I have the meta gene!" He takes a moment to let that sink in before continuing, "Most people get there abilities or whatever through a lab accident or an explosion or something and end up with like telekinesis."

"I, however, am hated by the universe and got scratched by a cat," he then yanked off the beanie to reveal two large cat ears, "and turned into furry bait. On that note if you have any tips on how to avoid Catwoman please leave them in the comments section. For my sake."

Dick stared down at his phone in shock. He needed to show his siblings this

In the meantime Danny has to deal with his channels popularity skyrocketing. "This is not what I want to be remembered for."

Bonus points if Danny gets one of those FMK questions that are all bats and he responds with, "Kill? A bat? Listen, if I get put into a death match with a bat the only one dying here will be me. I cant even do a backflip, what makes you think I could even touch one of them???"

[phoenixgrl1412]

Firefighting hadn't been the first job on Danny's list but it was surprisingly well suited for him. Toxic smoke and blazing fires were nothing to a guy who didn't need to breathe and could phase through anything after all. Plus it gave him a way to feel useful without catching the attention of the big bat himself. At least.... it was supposed to. But Danny supposes that ship has sailed considering Batman is standing in front of him at this very moment.

[phoenixgrl1412]

Alfred honestly can’t say shit about Bruce bringing in strays, because what if the Waynes got him the same way?

I genuinely can’t recall HOW Alfred, British special forces extraordinaire, ended up working for Gotham’s (scary) sweethearts.

In my mind, he came to them bleeding.

There’s a tang of bitterness pooling in his gut. Soldiers don’t have friends. They have guns. And he’s all out.

Just when Alfred thought all is in peril, a tiny little hand gently covers a nasty bullet hole on his abdomen.

The first thing Alfred thinks about is: ‘Jesus, this kid has scary eyes.’

“Hi, Alfred.”

“…How do you—“

“Bruce! Jesus FUCKING Christ, I swear, I’m not paying for your ransom next time you run o—…What the fuck is that?”

If there’s one thing about Thomas that Alfred will never forget is his voice; The bass , so chasmic and powerful it could shake the whole world, and the burning care in his eyes despite his vulgarity.

Bruce, — who’s the tiniest bundle of a boy Alfred witnessed, is yanked up by his father’s strong hands, squeezed to his chest carefully. “Hurt,” he says. There’s a tiny, red handprint on Thomas’ shirt.

“Yeah, I didn’t notice,” Thomas mumbling, looking around.

Maybe local gangs? The bullet point is too precise, too calculated. “Who the hell are you?”

Alfred, with his raspy breath, says, “I’m the terribly rude bloke dying on your doorstep, I’m afraid. Alfred Pennyworth. At your service.”

For a guy who’s about to bleed his last, he sounds awfully sarcastic.

“Yeah, wise guy, no one’s dying on my kid’s birthday. Bruce, tell Dotty to prep up the basement. And tell your mama to get my Budlight out of the cooler. Jesus Christ.”

Alfred ends up hoisted on this man’s back. Thomas asks if he has anyone he wants to call? Anyone that’ll come pick him up? Anyone to bury him, if it comes to it.

Alfred whispers he does not.

Thomas sighs. “Well. Kid‘a been asking for a playmate.”

[phoenixgrl1412]

love the idea of the Batfamily getting stopped and searched in the family car on the way back to the Manor and everyone’s tense expecting Jason to be the one packing like twelve guns but it’s Alfred? Alfred is absolutely unbelievably strapped up to high heaven? And he somehow manages to talk to the cops out of arresting him or even giving him a ticket?

Bruce is just standing on the side of the road pinching the bridge of his nose. Jason is grinning so widely his face is about to rip. Alfred’s guns are all sitting on the hood of the car and there’s at least three there that Bruce remembers taking away and destroying. Dick is taking pictures on his phone to send to Barbara and trying not to laugh. Tim has Kon on speaker narrating it…

[phoenixgrl1412]

You know the “Dad, How Do I?” YouTube channel? Yeah, that, but with Red Hood, and they’re unlisted videos that Crime Alley residents share with each other.

It started with goons stealthily taking videos of Red Hood ranting about shitty drug quality that they upload under the title “Boss on drug quality control,” primarily for other goons so that anyone can tell if the supplies have been cut with something and don’t need to waste time asking Hood.

Then videos from civilians start popping up too, featuring Red Hood lecturing street kids titled things like “RH on staying warm in winter” and “RH on how not to get mugged.”

Memorably, there’s a video titled “RH on classic literature (y’all did RH go to college???? Is our crime lord a lit major???)” where Red Hood imparts upon some kids the importance of reading. After a very positive reception, the uploader goes back to Red Hood, asks about a book they’re reading for school, and gets a whole lecture on themes and whatnot. It does numbers and becomes a series, and this time Hood knows the camera exists (he’s always known they exist, he just couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge them) and actually talks to it.

(Jason will do anything to help these children, whether it’s giving them a leg up in school, giving the street kids who aren’t in school some semblance of an education, or teaching them how to shank someone trying to traffic them.)

Red Hood never uploads any videos himself, but it doesn’t matter. Crime Alley crowd sourced its own version of Khan academy and it’s better for it.