#Danny Phantom in gotham Au

[tinydefector]

Who's portal is that.

DC X DP X Spider-Man

Just a silly little thought I thought of becuase I thought it be fun putting these two together in having to deal with being in gotham city.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: swearing, hints to Constantine being a slut

NEXT

________________

The night sky over Gotham City was shrouded in heavy clouds, casting the city in an eerie glow. A faint green shimmer flickered in the distance as a figure swung gracefully from rooftop to rooftop, keeping pace with a glowing flying one beside him. Behind them, a dark shadow leapt from gargoyle to gargoyle. The faint whoosh of a grappling hook shot past them.  

"Do you mind! not glowing like a freaking neon sign?" Spider-Man hissed, flipping mid-air to avoid a batarang that whizzed past his head.  "Excuse me," Danny shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm, " you're swing around in a bright red-and-blue costume like a walking target!"  

“First off,” Peter replied, landing on a rooftop and immediately launching himself back into the air, “it’s called branding. Second, this is your fault!” Danny stopped mid-flight to glare at him, hands glowing with ectoplasmic energy. "Oh, sure, because I totally wanted to get sucked into a random vortex that dumped me into this hellscape, of all places! This city's like a goth kid's fever dream!"  

"Hey, I’m not judging your aesthetic preferences,” Peter quipped, swinging from building to building, his webbing snapping taut as he narrowly avoided a batarang that embedded itself in the brick beside him. "You know," he called out to the white-haired kid flying beside him, "I feel like you're not appreciating my quick thinking here!"

Danny, glowing faintly with ectoplasmic energy, shot him a glare as he zipped past Spider-Man. "Quick thinking? Are you a complete moron? Who the hell sees a swirling green portal and thinks, ‘Hey, this looks fun! Let’s dive right in!’?" Peter shot a web at a nearby gargoyle and gracefully vaulted over a rooftop. "Okay, in my defense, I thought it was one of Doctor Strange’s portals! You know, the guy with the magic hands? They’re usually pretty safe! Emphasis on usually."

Danny groaned in frustration, narrowly phasing through a fire escape ladder before materializing again. "Well, congratulations, genius. You didn’t just jump into some magic hula hoop!"

“Yeah, because this is so much calmer than my usual Thursdays,” Peter quipped, twisting mid-air. "Besides, if the portals are so dangerous, maybe slap a warning label on them next time, huh? Something like, ‘Danger: Do Not Touch, May Cause Interdimensional Headaches.’ ”

Danny rolled eyes, his frustration mounting as he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, sure, like I planned for some random spider-themed idiot to get sucked into the summoning mess I got dragged into!. This is totally what I wanted today.”

“Hey, watch it, Casper,” Peter shot back, landing on a rooftop before somersaulting off the edge. "I didn’t exactly ask for this either. One second, I’m swinging through Queens, and the next, I’m in Emo New York’s. Seriously, does no one here believe in streetlights?"

“Don’t call me Casper!” Danny snapped, his glow intensifying as he blasted through an old billboard. “Neither of us want to be in a Tim Burton fever dream!” Peter flipped onto a water tower, perching casually for a moment as he fired a web at a pursuing caped hero, snagging his grappling hook mid-swing. “Hey, I don’t know who Tim Burton is, but I’m gonna assume that was an insult.” He glanced at Danny. “Also, can we talk about your powers? Because I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’re breaking every law of physics I know.”

“Yeah, well, so are your webs!” Danny shot back, “How do they even work? What’s the tensile strength? Are they organic or synthetic? Because if they’re organic, that’s really nasty.” Peter gasped in mock offense. “I’ll have you know my webbing is a marvel of scientific engineering! I made it myself, thank you very much. And it’s not gross���unlike your weird glowing hands. What even is that, radioactive ghost goo?”

______________

 

Elsewhere…

John Constantine paced rapidly across the creaky wooden floor of a dimly lit room, the flickering glow of candles casting jagged shadows on the walls. His trench coat swayed as he moved, his muttered curses barely audible over the sound of heavy rain pelting the windows. The smell of burnt herbs and incense filled the air, but none of it calmed the rising panic twisting in his gut.

"This is bad. This is really bad," Constantine muttered, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair. His other hand clutched a half-empty flask of whiskey, which he occasionally sipped from between frantic incantations and muttered expletives. "Bloody cultists. Fuckinn idgits. Why can’t anyone leave well enough alone?!"

The summoning circle etched into the floor before him still glowed faintly with green energy, the remnants of whatever dark ritual had taken place before he had managed to intercept it. but he could feel the unmistakable, oppressive energy lingering in the room. It was heavy, suffocating, and distinctly ectoplasmic. 

The cult in question had been small, disorganized, and apparently suicidal. They’d tried to summon Pariah Dark, the ruler of the Infinite Realms, a being of unfathomable power and danger. Constantine had assumed they’d fail, as most cults do. But no. Somehow, the idiots had pulled it off. Or at least, partially. The problem was, Constantine had no idea if the ritual had worked as intended. He doubted it. If Pariah had been fully unleashed, Gotham would already be a smoking crater, and Constantine would probably be dead, considering the Ghost King owned a significant chunk of his soul. Still, the energy of the summoning lingered, and Constantine could feel it spreading across Gotham like a thick fog. Something had gone wrong, and that was almost worse than it going right.

"You bloody morons," Constantine hissed, kicking over an empty chair. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Summoning the Ghost King? The fuckin Ghost King?" He paused, taking another swig from his flask as he leaned against the table cluttered with occult books and ritual tools. His fingers drummed against the wood as he thought.

Constantine had dealt with many terrifying beings in his time, but Pariah Dark was one He wished to put behind him and never talk about again. It had taken the combined might of the Realms to imprison him along with Constantine having a small part in distracting the ghost in the first place, and there was no way Constantine or anyone else wanted him walking free.

"Right," Constantine muttered, "Time to call in the cavalry."

---

Wayne Manor - The Batcave

Bruce Wayne was at the Batcomputer, sifting through a series of reports about strange energy spikes across Gotham. The spikes had started a few hours ago, coinciding with sightings of two unusual figures who were dodging his team with surprising skill. One seemed to fly—glow, the other swung through the city with an agility that rivaled even Nightwing’s. Whoever they were, they didn’t belong in Gotham. And Bruce wanted answers.

The comm in his cowl buzzed. Before Alfred’s voice came through. “Master Wayne, you have a rather… agitated call coming through. It’s Constantine.”

Bruce’s fingers paused over the keyboard. “Constantine?”

“Yes, sir,” Alfred replied dryly. “He sounds, as usual, like he’s moments from catastrophe.”

Bruce frowned. Constantine rarely called unless things were dire. “I'll handle it Alfred” He tapped a button on the console, patching the call through. “Constantine,” Batman grunted. “What is it?”

“Bats! About bloody time” Constantine’s voice came through, frantic and hurried. “ Alright, listen to me very carefully, mate, because we’ve got a massive problem on our hands. And by ‘our hands,’ I mean your city.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed. His voice dropping lower “What did you do?.”

Constantine “ i aint done shit!. There was a cult, don’t ask me why, cultists are always bloody morons and they decided to summon the Ghost King.”

“The Ghost King?” Bruce repeated, his voice calm but edged with suspicion. “What is that? Some kind of demon?”

“Worse,” Constantine said. “The Ghost King is the ruler of the Infinite Realms. A proper deity. The kind of being that makes demons piss themselves. His name’s Pariah Dark, and he’s the nastiest ghost you’ll ever meet. World-ending levels of bad. And here’s the kicker: I think the sod’s been unleashed on Gotham.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “If that’s true, why isn’t the city in ruins?”

“I said I think,” Constantine snapped. “Something’s wrong. The energy’s all… off. It’s definitely the Ghost King’s signature, but it’s not as destructive as it should be. That’s the only reason we’re still breathing. But trust me, mate: if he’s here, it’s only a matter of time before things go sideways. Its either His powers have been drained which if that's the case we are on limited time”

Bruce leaned back slightly, his mind racing. “What do you need from me?”

Constantine sighed. “First, I need you to avoid pissing him off. If Pariah Dark’s awake, the last thing you want to do is fight him. Second, I need access to every bit of information you’ve got on what’s been happening in Gotham tonight. Weird sightings, strange energy spikes, anything that looks remotely supernatural.” Bruce’s fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, pulling up data. “There have been reports of two unidentified individuals moving through Gotham. One appears to be glowing. The other swings on some kind of webbing. My team’s been tracking them.”

Constantine groaned. “Bloody brilliant. Bats i could kiss you for being the Paranoid fuck you are, The glowing one. That’s the Ghost King. And if someone’s with him, well, they’re probably just as much of a problem.” Bruce’s voice remained steady. “You’re certain?”

“Of course I’m bloody certain!” Constantine snapped. “I can feel it. The energy’s radiating off him like a bloody beacon. I’d bet my soul on it.” There was a beat of silence. “Oh, wait,” Constantine muttered bitterly. “He already owns part of that.”

Bruce’s hands paused, brows pressing together before he spoke again. “Explain.”

Constantine sighed heavily. “Long story short? I owe the Ghost King a bit of my soul. It’s… complicated. But if he’s here, he might decide to call in that debt. And if he does, I’m royally fucked. That’s why I need to trap him.”

Bruce sits back in his chair with a sigh and he tries to relax into his seat. “And how do you plan to trap him?”

“That’s the tricky bit,” Constantine admitted. “It’s not like trapping a regular ghost or demon. Pariah Dark’s power is off the charts. I’ll need a bloody arsenal of spells, relics, a fuck tone of salt, rosemary, dragons blood, blood blossoms and aloe vera and if you’ve got one lying around a miracle.”

“I don’t deal in miracles,” Bruce said flatly. “But I can help.”

“Well, that’s better than nothing,” Constantine muttered. “Just don’t let your bloody sidekicks get too close to him. If they piss him off, we’re all dead.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “Understood.”

__________

Peter stopped pacing and crossed his arms, giving Danny a look. "You know, you’ve been pretty chill about the whole ‘I’m the king of ghosts, and I got summoned by some random cult’ thing. Is this, like, a normal Tuesday for you?"

Danny snorted. "Look, when you’ve spent the past two years fighting evil ghosts, rogue hunters, and the occasional interdimensional tyrant, this kind of thing doesn’t even crack the top ten weirdest days I’ve had." Peter raised an eyebrow. "Top ten weirdest, huh? That’s impressive. I’m not sure if I should be impressed or concerned."

"Little bit of both," Danny muttered. Peter leaned against a metal pole, watching as Danny’s glow flickered for a moment before dimming again. Peter rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, so, if we’re gonna figure this out, we probably shouldn’t be walking around looking like, well…" He gestured to their costumes. "This."

Danny glanced down at himself, still in his black-and-white ghost suit. "Yeah, you’ve got a point. As much as I hate to admit it, looking like a glow stick might attract the wrong kind of attention." Peter smirked. "Yeah, you’re a little conspicuous. And I’m not exactly subtle in red and blue spandex. But i can get away with saying its a cosplay"

Danny rolled his eyes and stood up, brushing himself off. "Fine. Hang on." He took a deep breath, and in a flash of light, his ghostly suit disappeared, replaced by a simple black T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His white hair and glowing green eyes shifted back to his human appearance black hair and bright blue eyes. He looked younger, smaller, and far less intimidating.

Peter froze, staring at him. "Wait. WHAT?" Danny blinked at him, confused. "What? What’s the big deal?" Peter gestures wildly. "You—you just changed! Like, full-on transformation! You looked older, taller, and now—" He pointed at Danny, his voice higher in disbelief. "Now you look like a teenager."

Danny crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I am a teenager. I’m sixteen."

Peter’s jaw dropped. "Sixteen?! You’re SIXTEEN?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Danny asked, clearly unimpressed with Peter’s reaction.

Peter ran a hand through his hair. "You’re telling me you’re sixteen, and you’re the king of ghosts. At sixteen, I was just trying to survive high school, and here you are ruling entire dimensions?"

Danny smirked, rather amused at Peter's panic over the situation. "Life comes at you fast, huh?"

Peter groaned, shaking his head and leaning back as he remembered what he had recently been through. "Man, I thought I was stressed out at your age."

Danny shrugged. “You’re not that much older than me"

Peter hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "Well, technically, I’m twenty-two. But thanks to a little thing called the Blip, I kind of skipped five years of my life. So I guess I’m still seventeen in a way? It’s… complicated."

Danny stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. "Wow. Okay. So we’re both freaks of time. Good to know." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled $50 bill. "Anyway, I’ve got about fifty bucks on me. Not exactly enough to solve this mess, but it’s something. Wanna get burgers?"

---

Constantine was cursing his luck as he stepped out of a cab in Gotham's East End, his trench coat already soaked from the rain. He could feel the Ghost King’s energy growing fainter, which meant either the being was hiding or his powers were finally stabilizing. Either way, Constantine knew he didn’t have much time. He lit a cigarette and pulled out his phone, dialing Batman again.

"Any updates, Bats?" Constantine asked, taking a long drag. "Because if the Ghost King’s energy gets any more stable, it’ll be nearly impossible to trap him."

Batman’s voice came through, calm and level. "We’ve located an individual matching the energy signals." Constantine let out a sigh of relief. "Good. don’t engage. If you make the wrong move, you could end up pissing him off. And trust me, you don’t want to see this guy pissed."

"I don’t plan on engaging unless it’s necessary," Batman replied. "But if this Ghost King is as dangerous as you say, we need to act quickly." Constantine exhaled a plume of smoke. "Right. Just keep your distance, and I’ll be there soon. We’re gonna need a bloody miracle to pull this off."

When Constantine had finally found Batman they stepped into the abandoned warehouse, the bats cape billowing slightly as he moved through the shadows. Behind him, Constantine followed, cigarette in hand and a look of barely concealed panic on his face. The remnants of ectoplasmic energy still lingered in the air, faint but unmistakable.

“This is it,” Constantine muttered, glancing around the room. “He was here. I can feel it.”

Batman’s sharp eyes swept the area, noting the disturbed dust on the floor and the faint. “They’ve moved on.” Constantine cursed under his breath, flicking ash onto the floor. “Bloody hell. I was hoping we’d catch them before they bolted.”

“They’ll be back,” Batman said, his voice calm and measured as he moves around looking at the slight setup in the corner. “This isn’t a random hideout. They’ll return.”

Constantine raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you so sure, mate?”

Batman glanced at him, his expression unreadable under the cowl. “The boy He’ll need to rest soon, and this place is familiar, they have already scooped it out. They’ll come back.” Constantine sighed. “Alright, fine. But we can’t just sit around twiddling our thumbs. If the Ghost King realizes I’m here, he’s going to come after me. And I don’t fancy another round with him.”

Batman ignored the comment, his mind already working. “We’ll set the trap,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Constantine gave him a skeptical look. “You’re planning on trapping the bloody Ghost King with what, a net? This isn’t some garden-variety ghost, mate. He’s a deity. You’re gonna need more than a fancy grappling hook to take him down. Like i said a fuck tone of Salt” Constantine said grabbing the bag of it he had brought. 

“I’m aware,” Batman replied, moving to examine the scorch marks on the floor. “That’s why you’re here. You said you had a plan.” Constantine muttered something under his breath, then reluctantly pulled a small, ornate box from his coat pocket. It was covered in intricate runes, glowing faintly in the dim light. “This,” he said, holding it up, “is a containment box designed to trap spiritual entities. It won’t hold him forever, but it’ll buy us time. If we can get him near it, plus the other stuff I've bought too. It might, just might be enough to contain him long enough so i can make a deal with him or maybe banish him back to the realms”

Batman studied the box for a moment, then nodded. “Set it up. I’ll handle the rest.”

Constantine smirked. “You’re awfully confident for a bloke with no magical experience. Alright, Bats. Let’s hope your preparation is enough to stop an interdimensional ghost king. Because if it’s not, we’re both screwed.”

------

Danny and Peter had bolted from the diner, the stolen burgers clutched tightly in their hands as they tore down the wet streets. The cashier’s shouts faded into the background, drowned out by the sound of their pounding footsteps and the rain slicking the pavement. Peter had been mid-bite when Danny grabbed him by the arm.

“Whoa—hey! I was eating that!” Peter protested, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel and half stuffed with the burger. “Yeah, and you can finish it while we’re not being chased!” Danny snapped, his free hand glowing faintly green as he phased the two of them through a chain-link fence. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Peter huffed, clinging to his burger like it was a lifeline. “I could’ve handled it, you know. escape artist here!” “Right,” Danny muttered, dragging him through an alley. “Because nothing says ‘stealth’ like a guy in red and blue spandex with mustard on his face.”

“Hey—!”

Before Peter could argue further, Danny pulled him into his ghostly form, phasing them through a solid brick wall and into the backstreets. They were invisible and untouchable now, slipping through Gotham’s shadows like ghosts—because, well, one of them was a literal ghost.

“Just get us back to the warehouse,” Peter grumbled, licking ketchup off his hand. “I’m starving, and this burger is the only good thing that’s happened to me all day.”

When Danny phased them back into the warehouse, the first thing Peter noticed was the eerie silence. The second thing he noticed was the faint hum of energy vibrating in the air. His Spider-Sense screamed at him, but before he could say a word, Danny froze mid-step.

The glowing green of Danny’s ghost aura intensified, and in a flash of light, his human form flickered away. In its place stood… something else. Peter’s jaw dropped as he stumbled back, clinging to his half eaten burger. Danny or whoever this was didn’t look like the snarky teenager he’d been running around with. This was something entirely otherworldly. 

Danny’s form was taller now, his presence almost overwhelming. His white hair glimmered like freshly fallen snow, cascading down to his shoulders, and his eyes burned an unearthly, glowing green, deeper and more intense than before. An ice-like crown floated just above his head along with the floating aurora shimmering, while a cape of flickering starlight billowed behind him, even though there was no wind. His pale skin seemed to glow softly, and across his cheeks and arms were faint freckles that looked like constellations.

He didn’t look evil. If anything, he looked eternal. Ancient. Like something out of a fantasy novel, the kind of being that could step off the cover of a book as a god or a king. But Danny didn’t seem to notice or care. His glowing form flickered slightly as his eyes dropped to the burger that had been in his hands, landing unceremoniously on the floor inside the glowing summoning circle that now caged him.

“No…” Danny whispered, his voice reverberating unnaturally, as if layered with echoes from another world. His gaze locked onto the destroyed burger, his expression a mix of disbelief and betrayal. “No, not the burger.” He dropped to his knees, staring mournfully at the fallen burger. “I was so hungry,” he moaned, his voice still layered with that eternal echo. “It was right there. I could taste it.”

The Dark Knight’s imposing figure emerged from the darkness, his cape sweeping behind him as he approached the summoning circle. Constantine followed close behind, looking both impressed and deeply concerned by the glowing, ethereal figure trapped in the sigils. “Bloody hell,” Constantine muttered, staring at Danny. “That’s him. That’s the Ghost King.”

“Excuse me?” Peter growled, his voice rising with agitation. His Spider-Sense was still buzzing like mad, and the fact that Danny was trapped in some kind of magical cage was making his blood boil. “You did this? You trapped him?” Batman’s piercing gaze shifted to Peter, who was still clutching his burger like a feral dog protecting its last meal. Peter stepped in front of the glowing circle as if to shield Danny. “He’s not dangerous! He’s just a kid!”

Constantine snorted. “A kid? That thing in there’s no kid, mate. That’s the Ghost King. Ruler of the Infinite Realms. A being with enough power to wipe this city off the map if he wanted to.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed, Before Constantine or Batman could react, Peter crouched low, his body tensing like a spring. His mask was still off, and his expression was fierce, like a wild animal protecting its territory. He lunged forward, aiming a web at Constantine.

“Oi, what the hell—” Constantine yelped as he rolls to get away from the web. Peter didn’t stop there. He fired another web at the edge of the summoning circle, trying to disrupt the sigils. The glowing lines sparked as his webbing hit them, but they held firm.

“Stop,” Batman growled, stepping forward. “You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”

“Neither do you,” Peter snapped, flipping backward to avoid Batman’s outstretched hand. Constantine groaned, rubbing his temples. “Bloody hell, kid’s gone feral.”

The warehouse was a mess. Peter had put up a valiant fight, but, as he quickly learned, going toe-to-toe with Batman wasn’t exactly a winning strategy. He was now webbed and tied to a metal support beam, arms crossed and glaring at the Dark Knight, who stood nearby with the stoic calm of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Constantine was in front of Danny, cigarette in hand. "Hello, Pariah," Constantine said lightly, exhaling smoke. His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it, like a man trying to act calm in front of a tiger. "Nice skin. Little young for you, though, innit?"

Danny froze, his glowing eyes snapping up to fix on Constantine. For a moment, he just stared, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted over Constantine, taking in the trench coat, the cigarette, the smug smirk. And then Danny's face twisted into an expression of pure, genuine offense.

"Wait a minute," Danny said, his voice echoing slightly with that otherworldly tone. He pointed a glowing hand at Constantine, his eyes narrowing like he was trying to place a face to a name. "Are you... the Soul Whore guy?"

The room went silent. Even Batman raised an eyebrow.

Constantine blinked, his cigarette frozen halfway to his lips.  "You know, the guy who goes around selling bits of his soul to anyone with a checkbook and a half-decent sales pitch? You’re kind of infamous in the Infinite Realms. Everyone’s heard of you." He tilted his head, his expression growing even more incredulous. "I mean, we all knew you were a mess, but I didn’t think you were is much of a mess."

Constantine stared at him, his mouth working like he was trying to come up with a response but couldn’t quite form the words. Peter, still tied up, looked between them with wide, confused eyes.

"Wait, wait, wait," Peter said, his voice cutting into the silence. "What do you mean, 'Soul Whore'? He looks like if Mr Strange ended up homeless!" Danny ignored him, his glowing eyes narrowing further as he seemed to piece something together. His jaw dropped suddenly, and he took a step closer to the edge of the circle. "No way. You’re that dumbass, the one who slept with Pariah Dark. Aren’t you?"

Constantine froze. His cigarette fell from his lips, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint crackle of the summoning circle’s magic. Peter’s jaw dropped. "WHAT?!" Danny threw his hands up, his glowing aura flaring slightly. "Holy crap, it is you! You’re the guy who hooked up with Pariah Dark and put him in the Sarcophagus! I thought that was just a rumor."

Constantine’s face paled, his usual cocky demeanor evaporating as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Alright, now hold on a second—"

"He slept with the ghost king you fought and won against?!" Peter shouted, his voice rising with disbelief. "Are you serious?! He’s serious, isn’t he?!" He turned to Batman, who, to his credit, looked as stoic as ever. 

Danny, meanwhile, looked like he was having the time of his life. He crossed his arms, grinning like a cat who had just caught a particularly juicy mouse. "You know, I heard the stories, but I didn’t actually think it was true!"

"It was—look, it’s complicated, alright? It wasn’t my bloody fault!" Constantine tries to defend himself forgetting for a moment that this was the Ghost King he had trapped. Danny snorted. "Sure it wasn’t. That explains why half the ghosts in the Realms call you 'the Soul Whore.' You’ve got a reputation, dude. And not a good one."

Constantine groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Christ, I need a drink." This wasn’t Pariah Dark. This was something else. And whatever it was, it wasn’t bound by the same rules. 

And that terrified Constantine.

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

The Viewers

Danny and Tucker move in together for college in Gotham

Tucker decided to make tiktoks just for fun, he could teach people about technology and help give tips.

He didn't realize that his viewers could see Danny in the background in some clips.

Danny being Danny was never caught doing something normal instead it was always something weird.

~

Tucker: "So you just switch this piece here-"

Danny in the background more than half his body in the fridge, the fridge is very noticeably growling

Tucker who is so used to it, it doesn't even register in his mind that it's not normal.

~

Tucker fan-boying about the new Wayne tech

His viewers looking behind him at Danny

Danny running around fighting his food which is also growling & flying

~

Tucker modifying his tech for the viewers

Danny's voice in the distance: "Bye Tuck, I need to go soup this guy real quick!"

Viewers: "Cannibalism?!"

~

Tucker: "Ah yes a very normal video!"

His viewers watching Danny:

~

Just an Idea

[somnoir]

Down Bad in Distress

Bruce Wayne is kidnapped... A lot. And it's always so weird that only Batman is allowed to save him. That this dumb, charming, but kidnap-able Billionaire doesn't have a bodyguard.

Now, Bruce can simply go "Oh, we've got Batman. No need to worry for that!" But people are fussy nowadays. He underestimates just bow much Gotham loves their disaster of a prince with a golden heart. Even his company employees are begging him to hire a bodyguard. (This is from the many files being sent to his office, obvious recommendations on competent bodyguards)

Cut to the new bodyguard for hire—who was recommended by Alfred of all people (something about him being the disciple of a good old friend of his). The man was large. Fucking huge. Taller than Jason, if one would like to admit (Jason is his 6'4" baby and this fucking fridge if a man looked 6'6").

But he was all soft and warm. Like a golden retriever the size of a bear.

Anyways, Danny was a rather kind man. When he wasn't following Bruce around and playing bodyguard, he was indulging the kids. Entertaining them with the most obscure things and stories from his childhood. Better yet, Danny would be the kids' bodyguard rather than Bruce's whenever they went out.

It was a miracle when they realized that Damian wasn't reacting badly to the man. Very strange since Damian would think it'd be shameful for someone to protect him during the day. But then again, Bruce once saw Danny effortlessly pick up Damian so his son could coax a cat out of a tree. That was most likely the kicker.

Anyways, Danny looked and felt soft.

It wasn't easy for him to settle into the man's ever present presence, but it's been almost four months since Danny's been hired and Bruce doesn't even flinch when the man brightly greets him from the bottom of the stairs.

"Good morning, mr. Wayne!" Danny would say, all teeth and bright eyes in his suit.

"Bruce," he'd correct immediately.

And then Danny would pause, laugh, and— "Good morning, Bruce."

Then his kids would follow and Danny would affectionately greet them all, ask where they plan to go and if they needed Danny to follow.

His bodyguard was like sunshine and warmth incarnate.

But if course, Danny was a bodyguard.

There were instances where Bruce would have to take a second to remind himself that this man that would look down at socialites like he's ready to crush their hands is the same one who once gave him puppy-dog eyes to back up Damian when his son asked to keep the kittens.

That the same man who grabbed someone by the scruff of their collar like they were weightless was the same one who talked about poetry and literature with Jason.

That the man who once hauled Bruce off the ground and walked right out the gala when the smoke alarms blared is the same one who would gently coax Tim off the coach and into a proper bed.

But right now, that's not his concern. No. Bruce is more concerned about the fact that he's gotten kidnapped again.

Everyone was most likely alerted. They were. He could hear Red Robin, Blackbat and Spoiler talking over the comms, checking in on Red Hood and Robin in case things went off.

"B, don't move. These guys are more prepared than the usual ones." Tim's voice filters into the comms, evidently annoyed. "I've got Oracle checking if there are any bombs in the place."

Bruce stayed silent, watching the masked men and women walk around, guns in hand and crates surrounding them. He had been knocked out during a party. The last thing he saw was Danny's eyes—god, it frightened him a bit. How those pretty blues suddenly turned green like Jason's.

Then he was here. Most likely with a concussion.

"B?"

"I'm okay... Be careful..." He murmurs under his breath, hearing his children sigh in relief.

"Good. We've got Red Ho—What the fuck is that?" Barbara immediately cut herself off, her voice strained and pitched with surprise.

"Oracle?"

"Spoiler—Do you have a view on that?" Oracle frantically asked. "Shit—the cameras just went down. Guys?"

"is that—" Stephanie chokes out, "Is that Danny?"

Bruce froze. Danny?

Jason always knew that Danny was kinda off. The first time he met the man, it wasn't his size that Jason immediately noticed. It was how his eyes flashed green when they met his. At first, he felt threatened, ready to attack whatever the fuck thought it was a good idea to infiltrate his family.

But then... Then Danny smiled at him. Offered his hand with a kind greeting. Jason took that hand and... And felt calm. Like the buzz in his head melted away, like the Lazarus was cleansed.

And Danny most likely knew. Because the man was smiling in satisfaction, like he was pleased that Jason suddenly didn't feel starved and angry and hurt.

"I don't know what happened to you kid, but whatever the hell did, it wasn't good for you. Hopefully you'll get better now." Danny whispered softly and then withdrew his hand, tucking it behind his back.

Jason doesn't know what the fuck Danny was but the man was worth keeping around.

Admittedly, he turned to Danny a lot nowadays. Jason can't call Bruce all the time. No. His relationship with Bruce still isn't good enough to warrant Jason to call him constantly.

But Danny? Again, Jason doesn't know what the hell this guy is but whenever Jason was in trouble, he dialed Danny's phone immediately. And he came... Every, single, fucking time. No questions asked, just pick Jason up and patch him up like nothing.

Danny was a good guy. Like sunshine, like golden retrievers. All teeth with some fangs.

And that same guy just snapped a man's neck with his bare hands.

"Hood... Are you seeing this?" Robin asked beside him, equally stunned as they watched their usually kind and sweet bodyguard effortlessly tear through the group of men with his bare hands. There was already blood around. Everywhere, maybe. Some already on Danny.

"He's on a fucking warpath." Jason murmurs. Every bit of admiration he had for Danny just multiplied by a thousand when he watched him grab a gun right out of a guy's hand and slam it into their head. Fucking amazing.

If Bruce doesn't square up and ask this guy on a date, Jason would have to start planning to parent trap them.

Fucking shit, he needed this guy as a dad.

The doors don’t just open—they explode off their hinges, a violent crack echoing through the warehouse. Guns swing up, barrels glinting under harsh light, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the figure in the doorway.

Bruce’s pulse slams against his ribs.

And then Danny walks in, dragging a half-conscious man by the leg, leaving a smeared trail of blood in his wake. He doesn’t even look winded.

Blood stains his usually pristine uniform—smeared across his face, streaked over the white of his shirt, soaking into his knuckles. His tie is gone. His collar is open, a few buttons undone, exposing a sliver of skin beneath the mess. There’s blood on his face, drying in streaks, and his knuckles—his knuckles are raw, dripping, alive. He looks… disheveled. Lethal. Gorgeous.

"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! THAT'S DANNY!" Spoiler screeched, "HE'S BODYING THOSE FUCKERS! RED! RED, ARE YOU FUCKING SEEING THIS?!"

"SOMEONE RECORD THIS! SHIT! SOMEONE RECORD THIS!" Red Robin replied, equally loud and frantic as if trying desperately to find the old camera he used to stalk Bruce many years ago.

He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t hesitate.

Danny launches the man he was dragging, sending him crashing into the nearest gunman with a sickening thud. Before anyone can react, he moves—crossing the room in impossibly fluid strides, twisting a wrist until a gun clatters to the floor, elbowing another man so hard in the ribs that something audibly cracks. A shot goes off, a wild, panicked attempt—Danny doesn’t even flinch. He snatches the arm holding the gun and bends it the wrong way. The scream is immediate.

Bruce’s breath catches.

Another man rushes Danny with a knife—big mistake. Danny catches his wrist mid-swing, wrenches it to the side with bone-snapping efficiency, then drives the same blade into another attacker’s thigh. The man howls, but Danny is already moving, slamming someone’s face into the nearest table hard enough to leave a smear of red on the wood.

They never stood a chance.

Two minutes. Two damn minutes, and the entire room is a battlefield of unconscious, broken bodies.

And Bruce cannot focus.

Bruce barely registers Jason swearing at him through the comms, telling him to get it together. He can’t.

And then Danny turns to him.

His face is splattered with blood, his chest rising and falling steadily as he steps forward. His hands, bruised and raw, reach out, and Bruce swallows hard.

Danny kneels, gaze flicking to Bruce’s bound wrists, and his touch—gentle, so gentle—works at the ropes with precise care. The knots had been tight, biting into his skin enough to bruise, to draw blood. Danny’s jaw clenches at the sight.

Bruce should say something. Should thank him. Should not be thinking about how unfairly attractive he looks like this—wild, wrecked, utterly devoted.

But he can’t help it.

He’s so gone.

"Mr. Wayne."

On instruct, Bruce corrects him. "Bruce."

And Danny pauses.

The chaos settles—not in the room, where bodies lay crumpled, groaning, and barely conscious—but in him. Just for a second. Just long enough for Bruce to see it.

Blue flickers into green. A warning. A promise.

Bruce doesn’t look away. Can’t. Even as Danny tilts his head, something unhinged curling at the edges of his smile. His chest rises and falls, slow, deliberate, the blood on his face catching the dim light. His knuckles, split and raw, flex at his sides before he exhales a laugh—low, sharp, guttural.

Almost a growl.

And Bruce—God help him—feels something thrill in his spine.

Then Danny takes his wrists. Carefully. Reverently. Those same hands that had snapped bones and silenced screams mere moments ago now hold Bruce’s bruised, bloodied skin like it’s something precious.

Then—cold.

Not warm. Not comforting. Cold lips, pressing soft against each wound, his touch featherlight against the raw skin. Bruce shudders.

Danny pulls back just enough for Bruce to see his lips—stained red with his blood. And he grins, sharp fangs more prominent than ever, his eyes molten with something Bruce can’t name.

"Bruce…"

Danny says it like a prayer. Like a promise. Like a goddamn claim.

Exasperated. Excited. Fond. And something else entirely.

"Try not to get kidnapped again, Bruce… Or I might just end up blowing up Gotham to get you back.

Bruce’s breath stutters.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Bruce is so utterly gone.

(Someone laughs in the background, shadows curling at their feet. Lady Gotham is pleased.)

Part 2 | Masterpost

[lunamugetsu]

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.

[isosceles-is-never-here]

"Any more questions?.. No?.. Well that's the end of class." - teacher Poor Danny. It's hard to be a good student when you're half dead.

my contribution for ch.3 IYGABAB

[max-nicoxfandom]

I have this scene in my head of a giant DC/batfam crossover where everyone in the batfam inherits Bruce's adoption tendencies and he has no clue what to do about it.

Like one day, the batfam find a homeless Peter Parker, end up doing a DNA test, and bam, it's Dick's son. He's around 14, and has that same sunny disposition as his father. The Wayne family has grown by one and they couldn't be happier.

Except... Jason has been acting weird lately...

At first, it was a little weird because he had been spending more time around the manor to see Peter. And then he stopped. Completely cut contact out of nowhere. Dick confronts him and finds a 16 year old Danny Phantom hiding behind his brother with the brightest, green eyed glare Dicks ever seen.

A month later a French class visits.

It's their last trip of their middle school year before highschool. 17 year old Damian Wayne walks in with a 12 year old Marinette who's small, nervous, and is so smart she skipped a grade. Damian is happy to announce that he has a new daughter.

Bruce promptly chokes on air.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny: What's one of your characters flaws?

Tim: I get attached too easily. I fall into obsessions quickly. I hero worship to the point of worry. Oh, and I get Hangry.

Danny: I meant the character flaws you put for the assignment.....

Tim: Patricide.

Danny: Alright thanks. I'll ugh, see you around?

Tim: You won't see me but I'll see you. Through my camera lens.

Danny: What?!

Tim: Don't act surprised. I just told you my flaws.

Danny: I thought you were just being edgy!?

Tim: *frog blinks* Why would I waste this chance to speak to *whispers* Phantom.

Danny: How do you know that!?

Tim: I used to follow Batman and Robin around before Robin died, and you popped up. Good thing you did, too, because Batman was going crazy. You really saved him from the void. I love you. Also, I think someone put something in my water bottle because I'm shaking and saying things I usually wouldn't be saying and-

Danny: *Grabs bottle to sniff* someone dumped a truth serum in here. Let's go ahead and get you to the cave.

Tim: You can smell that? Of course, you can; you're half ghost, which could be considered its own species since all senses are enhanced. Plus, some ghosts are born in the Infinite Realm, which means reproduction is possible between-

Danny: Let's play the quiet game

Tim: Oh! I'm really good at that game. I never made any sounds when following the Gotham Heros around! Five years and counting!

Danny: You were nine when you started following Bruce around!?

Tim: I'm a smart stalker. But shhhhhhh, it's quiet time.

Danny: I'm both impressed and afraid.

Tim: *finger guns and winks*

Danny: And oddly attracted to you.

Tim: *Beams*

[demonic0angel]

City Spirits Danny and Jazz (click for clarity)

I’ve been wanting to draw them as city spirits for awhile now, and since my final exams are nearing close, this is my reward to you guys before my classes take over my life 😃

I’m also planning for one for Dan and Dani, but I can’t decide what I want for Dani and someone suggested Arkham for Dan?? You’re so smart, but ooooh, I also want Dan as a Bludhaven spirit so bad orz can someone please help me decide omg

Notes:

+ Both Danny and Jazz have Martha’s pearls due to the fact that her death (and Thomas’ ig) is what created Batman and also Crime Alley. Jazz’s pearls are bloody due to that reason.

+ Both dress very formally and in kinda old fashioned clothing as city spirits, but when they mingle with Gotham City as civilians, both dress normally.

+ Danny focuses on helping both the citizens and the heroes as Gotham City’s spirit, but Jazz focuses mainly on Crime Alley. She can, however, move away from the place and go elsewhere, just not for long like Danny.

+ Danny’s veil is both a symbol of his death (a death shroud) and a symbol of Gotham (the black represents the corruption, the stars represent the wonder and good that can be found within the city). Jazz’s blindfold is both a symbol of death and justice, since death comes for all and justice does not discriminate.

+ I forgot to mention that I borrowed the cape knot for Danny’s tie from @aealzx lmao, your redrawing of mine was genius!

[bluerosefox]

Little Grayson and his Talon Knights

Got a new idea cooking in my head.

Another DPxDC idea.

A reborn into DCverse Toddler!Danny but also Dad!Dick and Talons.

Danny is reborn into the DCverse (either he's a clone of Dick, a created test tube baby, OR a kid Dick unknowingly had during his amnesia year) and wakes up in the Court of Owls who finally have their Gray Son and will turn him into the greatest Talon ever.

Thing is, Danny still has his ghost powers (King Danny? Idk leaving it open, either that or just able to control clean ectoplasm) and knows whatever fruitloops have him, this will not be fun. So, when none of the Owls are watching him, he uses his abilities to influence a few Talons and they all book it out of the place.

Danny later finds himself walking the dirty Gotham streets with a few Talons, one holding his hand while the others hide in the shadows in case they need to protect the baby Talon they all care for.

Of course, the sighting of a Talon holding a toddler's hand catches the camera's and Oracles attention very very fast.

One of the Batboys is sent out, not Dick he's on a space mission right now, and whoever it is, is shocked to see a toddler that has a LOT of similarities to Dick.

[livinghalfway]

Mini Prompt: Death Runs in the Family

Danny and Jason are twins separated at birth. When they were born Danny was very sick and it didn’t look good for him from the start. As a final act of love or malice Sheila abandoned Danny at the hospital–making sure that there is nothing connecting him to her–leaving him to whatever fate desired for the small boy.

On the other hand she took Jason with her who then ended up being raised by Willis and Catherine. With them being completely unaware that Jason has a twin brother.

Jason’s life continues on as normal with him eventually being found, adopted, and becoming Robin. He dies at 15 in Ethiopia with his bio-mom never knowing about his brother. He comes back

Meanwhile Danny gets better and is later on adopted by the Fenton’s. Living in a crazy ghost-invested town. His parents build the portal in the basement, and at 15 dies with a press of a button. He comes back.

What no one knows though is that both meet their fate at the same time. A portal opening and a bomb going off. The two become twins in life and in death.

[magicpiano]

So a lot of Danny Phantom fics use the idea that at least some ghosts are kind-of-personifications of concepts, like time.

I purpose a DCXDP AU where Gotham gains a new ghost, Robin. Not the ghost of Jason, or Stephanie, or Damian or anyone else who died, but the personification of Gotham City's residents' perception of the hero. He is very much his own person, yet also a mix of all of them, but with some civilian opinions tossed in for spice.

Now Bruce has to adopt another child but this one is somehow much more complicated. He won't ever grow up, he can't really go to school or live a normal life. Crime fighting is literally his entire reason for existing. In the beginning he struggles with being his own person.

And he doesn't see Bruce as his father, no that title falls to Batman. Yes, Robin is aware Bruce is Batman, but to him Bruce is the persona, no matter how many times people try to explain that this isn't true. The same can be said for the others. Dick isn't his brother, Nightwing is.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So this was inspired by the coffee shop au that really popular amount Danny x Tim Fics

So Jazz is off to collage, but the moment she passes the amity border, she trips the silent alarm and the GIW fakes a car accident. She’s never seen again.

Danny knows better.

Tucker temporarily disables the alarm so Danny can leave Amity Park, live his life and get help.

Danny is quick to find out that he can’t find Amity anymore. It’s in an entire blackout. He went to the location where it was last only to find entire entire town gone with no trace of even existing

Danny moves to Gotham and get the night and afternoon shift for a cafe and meets Tim Drake. They end up dating when they both turn 18 and the next few months are peaceful.

One night, Danny is on shift, it’s two am and he’s joined by Tim (and other bats if you want)

The door jingles open, and everyone is wondering who’s entering at 2 am.

Meanwhile, Danny is frozen.

It’s Ellie.

She comes up to the counter and orders like nothing it wrong and like she are Danny are complete strangers instead of siblings who haven’t seen each other since their older sibling went missing.

Tim is very confused. His boyfriend definitely knows the 16 year old that just walked in, but isn’t saying anything about her (Tim doesn’t know about the ghosts and stuff)

Danny give Ellie her order and she tell him that Jazz is alive and the GIW has her.

Danny and Ellie vanish from Gotham the next morning after Danny’s shift.

Any media is welcome as long as you tag and comment. I might even write the scene I described if you guys want :)))

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Talk (Silence)

~

Danny has gotten used to not having to watch what he said as the years went by.

In Amity everyone basically knew he was Phantom and just treated it as normal, and he had already told his parents what had happened,

They did a total 180 on their opinions, now chasing after ghosts to question them about everything they could squeeze out of them.

They were very proud of Danny too, often helping him with their technology.

Having said that he got used to not watching what he said in Amity, everyone knew so why bother right?

Unfortunately he was not in Amity

He was in Gotham visiting Jazz, who had moved for University.

They were currently in a cafe catching up, talking as their used to.

Not realizing that their conversation without context sounded very worrying.

~

Jazz: " So how are mod and dad?"

Danny: "Oh you know the usual, they're making new weapons, hopefully this time they wont target me, getting shot sucks, but I prefer it over getting electrocuted "

Jazz: " Good luck!"

(TOPC)The other people in the cafe: What the fuck

~

Danny: " Vlad keeps putting cameras in my room, so I went and confronted him about it again, I don't care that he's the mayor! "

Jazz: " He really needs some therapy"

Danny: " He's a fruitloop, he's beyond help"

TOPC: *concerned side eye*

~

Jazz: "You know I was a bit more worried about the criminals here, but honestly weak, I miss actual competent villains"

Danny: "I told you!"

TOPC not sure if they should be offended or wary of where they live

~

Jazz: " You know I kinda miss the food back home"

Danny: "What that it would come back to life and fight you to the death?"

Jazz: " I mean that too, but I was talking about the taste"

Danny: " Oh yes the chemically contaminated food really has some extra flavor compared to this" *gestures at his plate*

~

Danny: " I went to the park to play with Cujo and got kidnapped and they almost cut me in half"

Danny/Jazz: "Typical Friday!"

TOPC recording on their phones to make sure they're not hallucinating, someone is live tweeting.

~

Just an Idea

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt in Memes 5

Once more, have a prompt entirely in memes because I'm too lazy to properly write one right now lol.

[goddessofbees]

@murrcurial how did Dan become king?

What started this whole mess was that the GIW summoned the King in an attempt to try and kill the ruler of the realm thinking it would do something (there not the brightest bunch of people), summoning Danny as the prince and a now released Pariah Dark. Jazz alerted the others of what happened and they all fought to get Danny.

After the GIW and fenton parents attacked and almost killed Danny and Dani, killing Jazz in the process, Dan went berserk and destroyed most of the GIW (the Fentons unfortunately made it out),(Vlad was severely injured and got to Frostbite to be healed)

Note that Danny wasn't actually considered king cause he didn't permanently get rid of Pariah Dark, he was only considered prince, he still was challenged but its considered not finished.

So in his very depressed and Angry state Dan had a target to let his anger out on, he destroyed Pariah Darks core and became king. Then afterwards he was only focused on keeping Danny and Dani safe so he went to Gotham where he could have his obsession of his family safe, mostly cause of his Ghost half feeding off of the ambient ectoplasm and death that happens so often.

[luminatricky]

Vampire? In Gotham! (part 2)

Summary: Danny arrives, sees something Concerning, meets Batman, tries not to fight Batman. Nope not going to rogue it up here, no thank you.

Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Danny Fenton, John Constantine & Danny Fenton

for context, phenes are letters in Ghostwriting, and you can do necromantic magic with them if you know how

As soon as he's within a five mile vicinity of Gotham, Danny has to stop and deeply consider his afterlife decisions.

PhantomMenace: what the FUCK is wrong with this place.

PhantomMenace: John.

PhantomMenace: I know you know how many generational curses are set in the very foundations. And not the abusive cycle kind.

PhantomMenace: who had the goddamn PATIENCE for this

PhantomMenace: who carves THIS MANY phenes into THAT MUCH wet concrete??

PhantomMenace: we'd have to blow up the whole city to unfuck this!!

PhantomMenace: when I find whoever did this I don't know if I'm going to kill them a second time, or make out with them immediately

PhantomMenace: they've clearly ascended to levels of spite I can only dream of, I've to at least respect that

God's Favorite Whore: For my sake I hope you kill them. Gross.

PhantomMenace: 💚

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

Night time in Gotham is beautiful, even without the view of the stars.

Danny finds himself exploring from the rooftops. Old Gothic architecture spins for miles; spidering out from the tallest buildings are gargoyles reminiscent of what he knows of cathedrals. Below him, the city comes alive in a flurry of motion.

The cars slow to a trickle, but foot traffic picks up. Well-dressed people in their 20s hit the bars, swaying and laughing with their friends. Danny takes note with a smile that they're all armed, and at least one person in each group seems to be as sober as a stone. Keeping safe and having fun.

The night workers hit the streets, and little skinny kids of all ages weave in between bodies like leaves in flowing water. Handing off things Danny can't see to the people on the street corners, laughing and joking and pushing each other, never straying too far to allies or the side of the road. Not ever being without at least one other. It's sad to see they have to protect each other like that, but that's life, and it seems they're living it.

Blob ghosts make unseen mischief. There's a second layer of traffic - blobs spinning a foot in the air above everyone else, catching stray emotions and fat and happy off the ambient ectoplasm. Danny's never seen any blob in a color other than radioactive green, but the ones in Gotham are all different shades of red. He wonders if the curses here might be a factor. And if his condenser will be stained red from now on.

Danny spots something strange the longer he looks. He slips off the edge of the building, walking down its side to the alley below. He slips into partial invisibility to not startle anyone not already looking for him, and peaks out the mouth of the alley.

Shades walk down the streets side by side with the human Gothamites. They give the human-looking ghosts a wide berth, but otherwise no one acknowledges them. He tracks the figures with his eyes, hating the blank look in each of them. He's sure that they're not even properly looking at anything. They go through anyone and everything in their paths intangibly. He sees several people shiver and look around confused, before walking off, visibly more tired looking than before.

Danny unclips his condenser from his belt to check if his dinner's ready. He startles a bit at the unfamiliar red, but shrugs. He's hungry. The blobs are having a blast despite how evil the air is. He should be fiiiine.

Taking a deep gulp, Danny returns his attention to the Shades, wary of what this new behavior means. He quickly does a rough count of humans, and then the strange Neverborns in the street. And oh boy. He does not like how the math is mathing.

In a normal, healthy population, there should only be one Shade per fifty humans. In Gotham? It's nearly one to one. He's never seen or heard of this. Danny wonders exactly how many people get mysteriously sick, or die of "natural causes" here.

Once he gets settled in, he'll have to go looking for the cause. Even in a crime ridden big city this isn't normal.

Danny takes another sip as he tears himself away from the mouth of the alley. He becomes fully visible as he steps into the shadows. He means to float up to the rooftops again, but a dull thump behind him has him zipping around on instinct.

Between him and the exit, a broad shouldered man rises from his feet. At first Danny thinks he's covered in shadows, but as his eyes quickly readjust to the level of light, he realizes that the man is just wearing a long dark cloak with a cowl. It covers his head and half his face, with two white beams of light staring impassively at him. It hurts to look at to be honest.

Danny tenses like a springtrap. John never gave him descriptions of any of the rogues, OR the bats. He doesn't know what he's dealing with right now, and he'd really rather not get into a brawl tonight. Humans don't do that to be friendly.

"Where did you get the blood?" The man demands. His voice is obviously modified to be deeper, but Danny thinks it might be naturally growly and inflectionless, as the man's body language or expression doesn't change.

He doesn't really think before he responds. The question throws him, okay? "Uh? Synthesizer?" Danny shakes his condenser some. It's only half full, so it only sloshes thickly against the sides instead of spilling. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about it, Danny caps it and reclips it to his belt.

He extends a hand to shake. "Name's Dante Nightingale. But people call me Danny."

The incredibly rude man doesn't shake his hand, OR introduce himself. All he gets in response is a minute head tilt that in other circumstances he would find adorable.

He rolls his eyes. "This is the part where you introduce yourself. Like a human."

The man grunts in acknowledgement. After an awkward moment, the man extends a (clawed!) hand from under his cape and grips Danny's own. "Batman."

Danny relaxes a smidge. "Nice. Cool. Heard about you and your Fraid. I'm told you're good people. thank you for not being a sentient shadow here to rob me." He lets go of the man's warm glove.

"Fraid?" Batman parrots, vaguely suspicious. Or curious. He's not sure.

"Um. It's like. Well, found family is the default in my culture, so we got a whole word for it. I didn't want to assume blood relations." Danny explains. "You've got a strong grip. Are the claws part of your suit or?" Danny flashes his own claws playfully.

"The suit." Batman says simply. "Why were you watching people from the alley?"

Danny leans back on his heels, clasping his hands behind his back, swaying back and forth. "Just flew in to town, I don't really know my way around yet. So I've been exploring on the rooftops so no one has the bright idea to mug the newbie." Danny stops swaying and folds his arms over his chest with a frown. "Then I noticed something wasn't right. Well. Other than how cursed you guys are. Actually? Might be related."

Batman's headlights narrow in a very convincing glare, so Danny tries to elaborate. "Shades really shouldn't be literally crawling through the streets. The non-physical, non-sentient psychic vampires? Yeah. I don't know if you can see this, but they're walking around in groups besides and through people. Which. They don't group up, and they don't typically go for crowded places. Shades thrive in privacy. They mimic whatever person accidentally made them, and lure loved ones alone. This whole thing is weird and probably not good."

Batman grunts again, head tilting slightly the opposite way. The little bit of silence lets Danny briefly contemplate if Batman is neurodivergent and not actually trying to be a brooding asshole. The older man's tone and facial expressions are flat, he doesn't seem to pick up on social cues, and he favors nonverbal communication. Danny makes a mental note to figure that out later if they ever meet again.

"What can we do?" Batman asks. Danny shrugs. Technically, it's not his problem unless they can't handle it themselves. "Justice League Dark this, I guess. Find me if they can't help. I'll give it the old college try if you ask."

Batman taps the side of his mask where the ear would be underneath. A quiet sound of static fills the alleyway. Batman full-body flinches at the sudden loud sound in his ear. The older man whirls to glare at Danny. The Halfa nearly chokes under the creepy, suddenly hostile gaze of the pinpricks of light.

"What did you do to my coms?" The man full on growls. The cloak is brushed aside as Batman takes out two throwing blades from his (bright yellow?) belt.

Danny's heartbeat races at the prospect of a brawl. Green light fills his vision and starts to cast a strange glow across the alley. His biology reacts, but his mind is screaming at him to put on the brakes. Do not fight the vigilantes! He's not being friendly! Do not the rogue!!

So he puts his hands up in surrender. "Woah woah woah! I can't control this, electronics just fritz around me! Hold on, just, I'll leave and they should be fine? I need to get back to my hotel anyways. Nice meeting you!"

Without waiting for a response Danny turns ghost tail. Which is to say, he turns invisible and flies through the building in the vague direction of said hotel. He flings himself into the soft, soft pillows, and tries to calm his ass down. No. No fighting. He does not need to be put in Arkham on his first day, or whatever.

Elsewhere, the coms crackle back to life.

"-atman?!"

"Oracle." He confirms.

"What happened? The boys are on their way, what's the sitch?"

"There's a vampire in Gotham."