#dp wip

[fanaroff]

Oops prt 2 electric boogaloo

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

the secret boys™

[phantomwithbreakfast]

Defeated—

Danny is the victim again, because they think he’s the villain.

“I’ll never give up on you.”

⟢ Sketch of Danny being pinned down by the hand of a GiW agent. Pinterest inspiration doesn’t do me any good. This sat in my head for a while now and it needed to get out.

[sentient-stove]

"Oh my god he’s dead- we killed a vigilante, OHMYGODOHMYGOD—" A hysterical voice screeched out, decidedly feminine and loud enough that the comn line picked it up.

"He broke in here for no reason first! We have probable cause as to why you brained him with our wok!" The second interjected, calmer than the first, but there was still a line of tension, like they were uncertain about what they were saying.

"Oh my god, oh god we’re literally so dead Batman’s literally going to murder me and you and us and—"

"We're already mostly dead, he can't kill us. Although I thought he had a no killing rule anyways, so maybe we’re safe? Ancients, that is a lot of blood. You think we should call an ambulance?" Static filtered through the comn line before stabilizing again and wow. The residents of the apartment were really just having a full conversation over an unconscious Nightwing- in earshot of a microphone recording every word- like this was a normal occurrence. Maybe it was a normal Friday night for them, Barbara couldn't exactly judge.

"I'm not calling an ambulance, they might arrest him. Hell, they're probably gonna arrest us! Danny, we're fucking unresgistered metas in Gotham, I’m a clone—"

"—Not metas and I won’t let anyone arrest you—"

"—It's the same thing to the government at the end of the day. You're right though. I think I hit him too hard, we're going to lose the deposit with the amount of blood getting everywhere. Head wounds bleed a lot right? Maybe he's not dead."

"He's not dead, we'd know if he was."

"Oh. Right. Man. That is a lot of blood, our IKEA rug is ruined. I liked that rug, you think we could ask him to buy a new one when he wakes up or is he on the normal vigilante salary of nothing?"

“Mhm. I'll go get the med kit, you handcuff him to the table so he doesn't jump us when he wakes up. Keep the mask on- I don’t want to piss off whatever buddies he’s got listening in.”

[kaylasurrett]

Danny Phantom fanart wip that I’m scared I’ll ruin if I attempt to finish it.

[breannasfluff]

Danny’s been summoned before. The first time it was Sam trying out a ritual she found in one of her goth books. She didn’t expect it to work, but when Danny was pulled in front of her–he’d been working on a rocket model thank you very much–they took the chance to test as many limits as they could think of.

The second time Danny was summoned it was someone’s sweet, old grandma, reading aloud what she thought was an old-fashioned cookbook. When Danny appeared in her kitchen she barely blinked, just asked if he wanted a homemade cookie. He did. He also took the cookbook and passed it over to Sam.

The third time it was an underpaid proofreader working on someone’s spicy witch coven manuscript. The spell listed to incite lust was supposed to be gibberish, but by dumb luck included the necessary phrases to yank Danny from his lunch and dump him in a dirty living room. The proofreader gave an eloquent huh, scratched out the spell, and kept going. Danny booked it and tried to block the phrase “sliding down a broomstick” from ever crossing his mind again.

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[jaytalking]

... What if Pariah Dark was a giant kinda like other extremely powerful ghosts in the series? Sorry I just can't stop thinking about the image of a giant castle and Danny waking up in a giant bed because the Crown sensed his distress at being possibly vulnerable with his parents around and spirited him away automatically to what is now his Lair as he was sleeping. Immense confusion some hilarity and a bit of sadness.... Just how I like it.

[albinotopaz]

tight squeeze

WIP

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

some more secretive boys ;)

[phantomwithbreakfast]

Here, have some Danny doodles ♡

⟢ I was just kind of practicing some poses, perspective stuff—that I wanted to try out.

[boosandbirds]

fight at first sight (1)

If he’s putting it plainly, Jason’s on his way to a mechanic.

A new mechanic, too, one who had only recently set up shop on the outskirts of Crime Alley. It’s a good location, just far enough from the heart of the alley to attract typical gothamites, while still offering services to Jason’s people. From what he’s heard, the mechanic even knows what he’s doing.

And Jason has a guy. Fuck, he’s known Rue since before he died, and he doesn’t feel the need to find anyone new. But one of Rue’s partners is sick and he’s taking time off to take care of them – luxury of running your own business, he supposes – and damn it, Jason was raised by Bruce.

There’s a new variable in Crime Alley, and it’s his job to know if there’s a threat. And a newcomer, especially one starting to make connections – could very well become a threat.

So, yeah.

If Jason’s keeping it simple, he’s on his way to check out a new mechanic shop, get his civilian bike fixed, and introduce himself to the new resident.

If he’s trying to be brutally honest, and he usually is, Jason is making sure he doesn’t need to spend tonight disposing of evidence after putting a bullet through a man’s skull.

No big deal.

One of the girls told him that Nightingale’s is open later at night. It’s a strange choice, one that furthers Jason’s suspicions, but it’s convenient enough. God knows that there are weirder shops in Gotham, or even just around the alley. Even Rue’s shop is appointment based, though, he’d get a lot more customers if it wasn’t.

Now’s not the time, Jason thinks, shaking his head. Compare the eccentric mechanics after making sure there’s no problem.

On the outside, there’s nothing strange about Nightingale’s. The windows and door are tinted dark enough that he can’t see through to the inside, and as he hoped, the neon sign above the door reads open.

The inside-

Well, the inside is an absolute mess..

[sentient-stove]

“Do you remember when I sold my soul a few years back?”

The tapping at the keyboard did not still. “Yes of cour— Tim, you sold your soul?”

“Oh my god, you forgot.” He dramatically threw a hand against his chest, collapsing sideways out of the chair to land on the cave floor. “I’m wounded. In my cold, soulless heart, shot straight through it. You forgot I sold my soul. Dick, how could you?”

“It’s been a hectic few years-“

“It’s my soul Richard Greyson. Isn’t that important? I sold my soul to the Ghost King and now it’s apparently changed hands.”

“The Ghost King sold your already sold soul?!?”

Tim sat back up, using the BatDesk to pull himself to his feet. “Nah, apparently the og king got bested in combat and the new king now owns it. He sent me a letter. So we could meet. And potentially discuss me repossessing my soul. Anyway, are you free Thursday cause that’s when he’s picking me up and he said I could bring a friend. Cissie already said no, so you’re the next on my list.”

Dick had long since abandoned whatever report he’d been working on and was staring at Tim with what could only be described as ‘major concern.’ “Can we please backtrack to the fact you sold your soul to a Cthulhu-like entity?”

“No.”

…

Meme under the cut

[bingusteaweeb]

[Wip]

HOMOTRON2000s 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[plainclothesdisaster]

Dp x dc prompt where there’s a new assassin in Gotham. The police aren’t investigating because, well, there’s nothing to investigate. To an outside observer the deaths all look normal and unconnected— a heart attack, a car crash, a fire. But Batman notices the pattern. Carmine Falcone’s enemies are falling off the map one by one. And no one but the victim is ever hurt in any of these “accidents.”

They codename their assassin “Ghost” since they never leave any sign of entry to the crime scene, and never leave any DNA. They take out their targets in impossible situations, among crowds in broad daylight or deep in underground bunkers. Nowhere is safe and the bats do not know how to stop them.

Danny’s being controlled. Blackmail, or perhaps something more magical. Now he’s the most effective weapon Falcone has ever had. The killing is too easy for him— humans are so fragile after all. Figuring out how to escape is harder.

It’s only when Gotham’s caped crusader starts poking around that Danny has hope for a way out. He starts to leave clues at the crime scenes— subtle enough to escape Falcone’s suspicion, but plain to see for the world’s greatest detective.

Now he just has to hope that Batman puts the pieces together before Falcone turns his crosshairs on the Gotham vigilantes themselves.

[breannasfluff]

“What are you doing this weekend?” Danny’s in a chatty mood.

“I was thinking of egging Wayne Manor,” he deadpans.

“Do you want some help?”

Jason turns to stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s joking or not. He wasn’t actually planning on doing that, but if Danny is on board…

“Sure. You don’t mind throwing eggs at Bruce Wayne’s house?”

“Fuck billionares.”

The laugh is startled from him, fuzzing into static from the voice modulator. Danny rarely swears which makes the sentiment even funnier. “Yeah, fuck billionares, man.”