Air lock
Watching Star Wars in chronological order is so funny.
Obi-Wan Kenobi really took one look at R2D2 in the middle of the desert and said “No, Luke, I’ve never seen this fucking droid in my life. Looks like a real bitch though. Not that I’d know. This is my first time meeting the asshole.”
No one in that whole franchise was Gatekeep-Gasslight-Girlbossing quite like “Ben” Kenobi, regular human-man.
Danny had been through a lot. He’d been half-killed in a lab accident, gained ghost powers, and then been chased through the multiverse by a government that would’ve loved to dissect him like a frog in eighth-grade biology. So when the portal spat him out into this dimension—one packed with capes, cowls, metas, and aliens—he figured he’d finally caught a break.
No GIW agents. No Fenton parents shouting about ectoplasmic anomalies. No Skulker showing up to hunt him down in the middle of English class. Just... peace.
Well, almost.
The major snag? He was homeless. Again.
No ID, no money, and the last place he tried to haunt had been a warehouse with exactly three raccoons who did not appreciate his presence. He couldn’t go back to school, didn’t know how to get a job, and sleeping on rooftops got old fast, even for a ghost boy.
That was when Danny heard the most ridiculously useful rumor ever: Billionaire Bruce Wayne had a habit of adopting black-haired, blue-eyed children like it was a competitive sport.
And Danny? Well, he had black hair and blue eyes... at least half the time.
Good enough for government work.
So one night, in the dead of moonlight, Danny phased through the locked gates, passed the high-tech security system, and slipped straight into Wayne Manor. The place was huge, quiet, and oddly comfortable despite its bat-themed overtones. He didn’t even try to sneak around like a spy—he just floated through until he found an empty bedroom with a made bed, thick curtains, and a view of the garden.
He claimed it.
No one said anything.
So Danny just... stayed.
Danny didn’t mean to con anyone. It’s just that no one noticed him. He figured maybe there were already so many black-haired, blue-eyed kids around here that adding one more didn’t even make a blip on the radar. And since Jack and Maddie Fenton may not have taught their kids about interdimensional politics, they did make sure their kids had proper manners.
So, the first time he ate in the massive kitchen, he washed the dishes afterward. Alfred showed up just as Danny was drying the last fork, his sharp eyes watching from the doorway.
“...I see Master Grayson’s taste in midnight snacks has rubbed off on someone,” Alfred remarked.
Danny froze. “Uh—yeah. Sorry. Just thought I’d clean up after myself.”
The butler narrowed his eyes. Then nodded. “A rare instinct in this household. Continue.”
And from then on, it became a routine.
Danny helped in the kitchen. He helped clean the manor. He weeded the garden (phasing out any actual creepy-crawlies). He carried laundry baskets. He repaired a broken picture frame. When one of the Batmobiles needed a patch-up job on a fin, Danny phased into the engine and fixed it from the inside out while humming along to an old Ghostbusters theme remix.
Alfred was absolutely delighted with the newest, polite, respectful, and hard-working “Wayne.” Even if he had no earthly clue when exactly this young man had joined the family.
It took a few weeks before anyone realized something was off.
“Alfred,” Bruce said over breakfast one morning, “why is there an unfamiliar teenage boy pressure-washing the back patio with what looks like... green plasma?”
Alfred sipped his tea without looking up. “That’s Master Daniel. He’s been most helpful.”
“…We don’t have a Master Daniel.”
Alfred finally looked up, deadpan. “Master Bruce, I have tolerated you bringing home orphans like stray cats in the rain. The boy helps clean. He gardens. He fixed the coffee machine. I will not be chasing him out. Adopt him, give him a room, or be quiet about it.”
Bruce blinked. “...Fair.”
Meanwhile, Danny was just glad he hadn’t been blasted with a Batarang on sight.
He had a bed, food, quiet (well, relatively), and access to the Wayne library’s wi-fi. He was pretty sure Damian glared at him more than necessary and that Jason kept trying to figure out if Danny was secretly a zombie, but otherwise?
He was kind of fitting in.
At least until someone walked in on him halfway intangible while reaching through the fridge for leftover pie.
“…Master Daniel,” Alfred said from behind him, entirely unshaken. “If you are going to help with the silverware later, do remember to phase after you wash your hands.”
Danny, still half inside the fridge, stared.
“…Yes, sir.”
And thus, somehow, without anyone signing a single form or asking too many questions, Danny Fenton became the most ghostly Wayne sibling yet.
And honestly?
He was kinda cool with that.
what if Damian wasn’t sent to Bruce by Talia and instead decided to do a bit of early child-rebellion by running away to him himself. Talia, pissed off but too busy dealing with uprisings in the league to go track him down herself, calls up the person Damian is most likely to listen to other than her; his brother, who she trusts to keep him safe.
the thing is, Jason is 1: busy with his own missions atm 2: was also once a rebellious little asshole who liked to run away from home. he was Damian’s tutor once, he knows the kid can handle himself and he also knows if he CAN’T handle something he’ll contact Jason for help. he knows this because about a week before Talia called him, Damian called him.
Jason, phone balanced between his ear and shoulder: what do you want, i’m undercover
Damian: i require money for a fake passport.
Jason:
Jason, letting go of the guy he was beating up: alright you have my attention.
Damian: i am running away from home. i wish to do something ‘for the lore’ like the stories you used to tell me as a child.
Jason:
Jason ‘i’m going to ethiopia’ Todd: there’s some stuff in the fake panel under my bed. don’t tell me where you’re going, i don’t want to be complicit when Talia calls. also don’t die, because if you do i’m gonna make you eat dirt once you get out of the pit.
Damian: understood. if i am about to die, i shall call again.
Jason: have fun kiddo.
so Jason tells Talia he’ll ‘keep an eye out for any leads’ and then goes back to his normal business. league missions, his own missions, some outlaw shit, and eventually he ends up crime lording it up in Gotham. he’s a little confused when Tim Drake is seen swinging around as Red Robin rather than just Robin, but he got over his obsession with the Robin shit a while ago, so he ignores it.
until he runs into Batman and Robin. and there isn’t a mask in the fucking world that could hide his kid brother’s face from him.
Red Hood:
Robin:
Red Hood:
Robin:
Batman: why are you two staring at each other like that. what’s happening.
Robin:
Red Hood: *deep sigh*
Robin: are you going to tell mother-
Red Hood: -when you said ‘like the stories i used to tell you’.
Robin: *looks at the floor*
Red Hood: i did NOT think you meant running to a different country to find your birth parent. you fucking COPIER.
Robin:
Robin: …but you made being Robin sound so cool…
Batman: what the fuck are you two talking about?
Red Hood, pointing: you stay out of this, this is family business.
Batman: ????