So I've seen this concept and this concept that Danny can somehow see the true nature of supernatural things.
This can be applied to SO MANY crossovers.
He meets Jake Long, and sees a silhouette of a dragon.
Juniper Lee looks like a she has a flaming shield on her back, shackled to her by rusty chains.
Steven Universe somehow looks like a 100 m monster, a giant princess, a large woman, and a really big pink guy all at the same time, depending on the exact angle he's looking at.
He almost goes blind when he meets Sakura Kinomoto. Her power is overwhelming and bright. Oddly enough, he's almost invisible to her.
He has no idea what to make of Q when he somehow ends up in an alternate 24th century. All he knows is that he's never seen anything that powerful, and never will again.
He can't see the true form of cybertronians the same way he can see through the paranormal, but energon leaves an odd taste in the air that makes their vehicle modes ineffective against him. He freaks out a little when he meets Sari.
Johnny Blaze feels every level of wrong imaginable and looks even worse.
Constantine is literally wrapped up in litigation.
He meets the Spectre ONCE and vows to never see him again.]
Dcxdp ficlet pt 2 HERE for pt 1
"Just tell me. Please." Superman sighed. He knew he shouldn't have gotten involved. He should have just told Bruce to tell his kids that Phantom was off limits. He remembered a conversation he, as Clark Kent, had had with Danny Fenton back when the topic of hero/civilian identities had first come up and Phantom had finally trusted them enough to let them in on the secret of halfas. He hadn't gotten into the specifics, knew that even Batman knowing how it happened could bring risk. but the fact that he had trusted them enough to tell them any of it at all was still huge. Especially given all they learned afterwards.
The two had met up at Clark's place as civilians in Metropolis. Just to pretend they were normal for a little while and hang out with someone that knew what it was like to be utterly alone in the universe. Danny had managed to home-brew something that would actually get the Kryptonian drunk and carefully added some to each of Clark's drinks. Ensuring that they both got fairly tipsy.
It hadn't been as obvious then. Sure, Fenton was taller than Phantom was but Phantom rarely had legs, so it was impossible to compare. and Fenton was a little broader than Phantom but Phantom radiated power and authority, making it easy to overlook. Phantom had a tendency to speak with an echo and modify his voice so the voices weren't comparable either. They were both chaotic and sarcastic and willing to do whatever it took to help someone in need. No matter the personal cost. One could miss it. They were supposed to be different people. They were supposed to miss it. And back then, they didn't have the trust or the rapport with the hero to ask about it.
They had been in the living room of Clark's shoe box apartment. Each a few drinks in. Still sober enough that they would remember the conversation but not so much as to not have it. Clark didn't remember how it came up. But he remembered a barely 18 year old Danny staring into the distance and saying "sometimes I think they're right you know? And I really am just a dead boy pretending at being alive. I heard Constantine and Batman talking when they first found out. I know he didn't mean it like that. and it's not like I haven't heard it before. And it's not true. but sometimes, I believe them. Just a little bit. And I am dead. But then I see myself in the mirror and I see that I'm aging. I step on a scale and the numbers are higher than last time. The dead can't manipulate their own density like the living can. Just change the shape of it. and I'm taller than I was. not as tall as I would've been had the accident not happened, but taller than I was at 14. and I know I'm still alive. Even if I am barely breathing. But I still can't help that part of me that believes them. ya know?"
This was unforgivable, what he was about to do. He shouldn't have gotten involved. But this was his friend, and he was a reporter, he needed to know what had happened and make sure his friend was alright. But Danny was giving him THAT look and he knew he couldn't stop it now.
His ma was going to kill him.
"Kal." The Man of Steel sighed, held up a finger and left the room, he came back shortly thereafter with a small mirror in his hands. He stood in front of Danny.
"are you sure?" a small nod. He gingerly placed the mirror into the waiting hand, "I'm sorry."
Phantom gasped and gently touched his face before hightailing it out of the room. Superman close behind.
Clark found him in the bathroom, staring into the larger mirror the room held. He watched as something in Phantom broke, his tail- two legs planted solidly on the ground. His left hand gripping the counter top for dear life as his right traced the nonexistent lines on his face.
The Watchtower wasn't the place for this. He needed to get Danny out of there. He pulled the ghost gently away from the sink, listened for nearby heartbeats to find a clear path to the zeta tubes, and gently led him away, out of the bathroom, down and around hallways and stairways, and to the room that held the zeta's. He typed in their security clearances and a destination and squeezed them both in. Glad that no one was around to see them flush against each other. They arrived, the door opened and they both stumbled out.
"You're alive. Danny. Look at me. You're alive. You're not pretending or lying or anything like that. You are as alive as you are dead. They're wrong. You know they are." Clark held the man by the shoulders and looked directly into his eyes while speaking. Not so much as blinking. There was a flash and Fenton was before him once more. "See. Still alive. 250lbs of solid muscle. The dead can't change their density. You're heavier than you were all those years ago. You are still you."
Danny closed his eyes as tears started falling and a sob rocked through him. Clark pulled the man in and held him. This was different. This was grief. Clark wasn't sure what was happening exactly but his friend was grieving. So he did what he did when any of his friends were grieving and held Danny tight. Let him process whatever he needed to processes. Understand whatever Clark was unable to. In that moment they weren't two hero's, or a ghost and a Kryptonian. Or an astrochemist and a reporter. They were just Danny Fenton and Kal-El.
"I really did die. I mean. I knew I had. Obviously. but, I dunno. It never really felt real? ya know? There wasn't a funeral or anything. I just...went to school the next day. Like nothing had happened. And obviously I could 'go ghost' but 'going ghost' was...different. I didn't die. Not like Dead die. I got better. I died ya. but I wasn't DEAD. not dead-dead. Even when I kinda believe that they're right about me pretending to be alive. That's different. That's like....Saying I'm an imposter or a liar or something. But. I died. like actually died and stayed that way died. I can be alive. But when I'm dead I am actually. I'm actually dead. Forever stuck celebrating my 14th birthday. Just like all the other ghosts. I'm dead. and I don't get like resurrected and then die again but I'm dead the whole time. and Also not dead at all. Completely alive, growing, changing, aging. Both completely disregarding the reality of the other. yet still able to be influenced by the other. Which also shouldn't work." Danny started crying again.
"I died Kal. I died and no one noticed." Danny's voice cracked as he choked back a sob. His grief palpable in the air.
"Danny..." He didn't know what to say. What was there to say? it's okay? it wasn't ok. He was processing a nearly 2 decade old trauma that everyone in his life had had a loud opinion on while simultaneously refusing to acknowledge what the base of all those opinions meant. A truth too terrible to name.
Danny had died. Horribly and tragically. A 14 year old had had an interdimennsional portal ripped open on top of them. Probably the most painful death to have ever occurred in the multiverse.
Happened to a 14 year old.
And then he got 'better'.
So the world shrugged and moved on and told him he was 1,000 things he wasn't. and never gave him so much as a condolence card let alone a grave. Something Zantana had made clear were sacred places for ghosts. Unthinkable for even the greatest of foes to tamper with or disrespect. Celebrating death days was more than a sacred tradition, it was foundational to the fabric of ghost society. Which is why JLD had been so stilted when no one would tell them Phantom's. They had thought that he would take it as a grave offense. But he had danced around the topic too, had sworn all who knew to silence. They could never figure out why everyone agreed. Not asking a ghost about their death was fundamental. But so too was acknowledging the day itself. So, asking others was a normal way to obtain that information. Even after being asked not to share it-that too was part of the complicated system ghosts had created since reality began. Adhering to the request was something none of them had been able to figure out or understand.
And now Kal knew why.
They didn't realize he was deaddead.
To tell them would be to say that their friend died on his 14th birthday. and then celebrate that fact.
And their friend couldn't be dead.
So they dug no grave.
Held no service.
Shed no tears.
Just moved on.
He moved them to a couch. Sat Danny down, squeezed his hand and stepped away. He found the kitchenette. Made two warm beverages, sent a text, and made his way back to his grieving friend. He couldn't change the past. But he could rectify the future.
AKA "Alfred Pennyworth hires an interim butler while he recuperates from a Rogue attack. Who better than adoption bait Danny Fenton?" prompt!!
Okay, so imagine Danny moves to Gotham to pursue astrophysics at Gotham-U but he's having a surprisingly difficult time keeping a job. Every time he gets hired, the place gets burned down or blown up by Rogues; it's like he's catnip for trouble. Somehow, he's always in the wrong place at the wrong time.
And Alfred Pennyworth also happens to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He's at the Gotham Market Co-op, where Danny's been recently hired, and suddenly it's gassed by Scarecrow's Fear Toxin. All the employees and customers scramble to put on their gas masks, but Danny's new enough that he has no idea what's happening. He's suddenly seeing Fright Knight, Dark Pariah, and the GIW. So, he Goes Ghost, defeats all of Scarecrow's goonies, and saves the day! If only his boss would think so, too.
Uh, no. Apparently Danny's now on a Wanted List as an undocumented meta?? And his boss can't be investigated by the GCPD (he's, like, four years behind on taxes and has been dodging the IRS for longer), so he regretfully has to let Danny go. But, hey! Maybe if he becomes a documented meta, he can get hired back. Except Danny can't because the GIW can access the meta registration database and he'll be found out faster than he can leave Gotham.
So, Danny's fired again.
And Alfred "Pride & Honor" Pennyworth?? He's not gonna let the child who saved him (because Scarecrow absolutely was going to snatch the Wayne's butler, who better to take hostage than a billionaire's publicly beloved Father Figure??) possibly become homeless. It's clear the kid is a college student and is barely scraping by, probably paying way too much for room and board at Gotham-U. And... maybe his wrist hurts a bit from a fall. He's older now, it's not impossible that he'd get a sprain or a broken bone. (Plus, Alfred knows the look. The same one as Dick, Jason, Tim, even Bruce. There's an immense grief in those small shoulders, fear and loneliness.)
Cue Alfred hiring Danny on as an interim butler while he recuperates (oh, he's terribly injured, thank you so much for helping me, my boy-). And Danny can't say no. I mean, this old man got injured during the Rogue attack he was apart of! And he's asking for help! And it's also nice to have some money. And a bed and... oh, God, he's working for a billionaire frootloop. Uh-oh.
(Alfred absolutely doesn't tell Bruce about his new son apprentice. It's worth it to see Bruce's eyes glaze over as sees a black-haired teenager standing in the kitchen with Alfred, then doing a double take when he realizes it isn't Jason. And the others are banned from the kitchen, so who is this child in his house?? It's not Kon or Jon either??)
Meanwhile, Danny is actually having a great time with Mr. Pennyworth!! The older man is kind, soft-spoken, and really knows his stuff. Danny really enjoys learning how to cook, especially because none of the food comes alive to fight him. Eventually the Batfam just become used to seeing Danny in the kitchens, gardens, around the house with Alfred. He's a cute kid, always smiling and talking about his college classes. He has effortless sarcastic banter with both Damian and Jason, bonds with Tim about some kind of difficult mechanical mathematics or something, trades dad jokes with Dick. He even manages to win over Cass, Steph, Duke, and Babs.
The only one Danny doesn't truly seem to like is Bruce Wayne, although he never outright disrespects him, since he pays the bills and Danny's midwestern manners kick in. Bruce is confused and very concerned because why is this kid literally glaring daggers at him all the time?? Is he going to poison Bruce's coffee?? Danny's just trying to figure out if Bruce Wayne is a "collects vintage dentures" or "keeps teenagers locked in his basement" type of billionaire frootloop. (He'd kinda prefer the kidnapping, Danny does not want to go looking for a wine cellar and find an entire basement of old teeth.)
Bonus if Bruce tries to subtly win the boy over and Danny's just like, squinting at him, white-knuckling a frying pan and muttering, "That's exactly what someone who collects teeth would say..."
In which Danny's habit of fiddling with all the guns and weapons left in every conceivable nook and cranny of the Fenton household lead to a very awkward moment during his first tutoring session. Meanwhile, Jason is trying not to shit bricks.
"But it's IMPOSSIBLE to know what the author was TRYING to say!!!"
Jason watched the kid sitting across from him threw up his hands in frustration and start pacing the length of his apartment. This was the first time the skittish kid had taken Jason up on his offer to tutor English. Jason just rolled his eyes when he found out Danny's essay was due tomorrow and let him in.
Jason owned all the rooms adjacent to his main safe house, so he was surprised to spot the kid stepping out of the apartment below his a few weeks ago. No matter what Jason tried, Danny Nightingale was a big mystery, but he was definitely running from something.
"The whole point of the essay isn't to figure that out."
"That's literally the assignment!!! Word for word!" Danny huffed then flopped onto the worn couch with his arms crossed.
Jason got up from the stool at the kitchen counter and joined Danny in the armchair by the coffee table. "The point of the essay isn't to figure that out. It's to show that you know how to make a claim and support it. That's it. Most teachers don't care what you argue, so long as you show that it is a possible interpretation."
"Then why didn't anybody ever just say that?!" Danny seemed to be having an epiphany while constipated. "I've been pulling my hair out because I actually read the book and wanted to do it right this time! And you're saying I could have just said 'green symbolizes golf or unicorns or something' and called it a day?"
Jason laughed. "In a way, yeah. It's an unobtainable dream so Gatsby is basically chasing something that doesn't exist. A metaphorical unicorn hunt."
"I hate everything."
Jason tried not to laugh.
"I don't care. I'm not going to write about that stupid green light. Not after all that."
"Okay. Then let's look at something else." Jason decided to just start talking about different aspects of the book. It wasn't often he actually got to talk to anybody about literature and he could see a spark of interest and consideration taking root in the boy's eyes.
"The Great Gatsby is also a rare example where the main character isn't the protagonist of the story."
Danny fidgeted in place, having trouble sitting still despite paying attention. His hands wandered over the couch cushions, playing with seams and picking at one of the older stains. Jason hadn't had the chance to clean up properly, and the kid was getting uncomfortably close to-
Jason watched in horror as the kid's hand reached between the cushions and pulled out a full magazine. Jason froze, waiting for the inevitable freak out, running through the possible excuses.
Instead, Danny checked how full it was and tapped absently at one of the rubber bullets, his brow furrowed in thought. "How can the main character not be the protagonist? Don't they mean the same thing?"
Sweat pricked on back. Had someone found out his identity? Red Hood's weakness for kids had eventually leaked. Was this a trap? A threat? Was the kid sent by someone? Jason forced his hand not to reach for the gun tucked in the hidden pocket on the side of the armchair.
"He's actually mostly a spectator or a lens through which we see the story play out."
It was Crime Alley. Someone owning a gun wasn't that crazy. As long as he didn't find any of the hidden pockets that he kept the weapons in, he could play it off.
"But wait... doesn't he actively hide Daisy and Gatsby's relationship from the husband guy? And he does other stuff."
They continue to talk and Danny's wandering hands pull out every weapon he had stashed in the couch without reacting to any of it. Various knives and magazines that were clearly for almost a dozen different types of gun were all looked over for a few moments, then placed back or set out on the coffee table in a line.
Jason cleared his throat and continued the conversation barely aware of what he was saying by the time the kid withdrew one of his spare pistols from the hidden pocket on the underside of the couch.
Danny's hands ran over the surfaces, flicking the safety and pulling out the magazine, checking the chamber while he asked another question.
The next thing Jason knew, the gun was completely disassembled. Every piece scattered across the table
Danny stareed at the ceiling in concentration while his hands are moving and dismantling the gun. Within seconds, it's completely disassembled across the coffee table.
Jason was in awe. He did that faster anyone he'd ever scene except himself and a few other gun specialists, and he did it without even looking. What life was this kid running away from to have enough skill that it looked like a goddamned fidget toy instead of a weapon.
"No. In the context of the Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald isn't the author. Nick Carraway is. Sort of like how the Lord of the Rings is an Autobiography by Frodo."
"Sorry to interrupt, but you have to tell me what oil you use. This thing is smooth as butter. Though you might have to double check your sight alignment on this one. I think it's a bit off."
Jason stared.
Danny looked at him expectantly. Then his eyes followed Jason's stare.
"Oh shit!" Danny's eyes widen in horror and exactly what was in his hand. "I'm so sorry! Habit just kind of took over. I shouldn't have messed with your gun without asking."
That was not the problem here!
The kid reassembled the gun in a blur, tucking it securely back in it's hidden alcove along with everything else he'd left out on the table.
Face tinged red, he turned back to Jason. "So Nick is the author, so he's also an 'unreliable narrator.'"
Jason doesn't know how he got through the rest of the discussion, but by the end of it, they threw together a solid outline and gathered several quotes that would work.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Jason. I couldn't have done this without you." The kid was positively glowing with pride over Jason helping him make a couple notes. "Would... would it be okay if I came back if I have trouble again?"
"Sure kid. This was actually a lot of fun. I got to relax. Nobody wants to talk to me about books anymore." And surprisingly, it really was true. He couldn't remember he'd been this calm or the pit waters had been this quiet. Maybe there was something to that 'art is therapy' junk after all.
"I can see that when you look like fridge and smell like a sewer." The kid dashed off before Jason could ruffle his hair or
"Hey-!" Jason shouted but he was already gone.
Jason pulled out the gun the kid had messed with. It was perfectly assembled and just as he said, the sights were indeed slightly off. Looks like Jason would have to call in the big guns.
Pulling out his phone, he grudgingly dialed the number. This was going to cost him. "Yo Timberly, I need your help and you can't tell Bruce."
Danny bounced down the sidewalk on his way to the library to type up his paper. Who knew having somebody actually explain things
Danny's face heated at how inconsiderate he'd been. He was amazed Mr. Jason was okay with him coming back after he'd made such a fool of himself. He'd never done anything like that before. Sam and Tuck hadn't cared if he stripped down the Fenton Bazooka while talking.
His mo- Maddie could get really possessive when he'd accidently mess with her guns. Of course he should have asked first. Wait, he was missing something.
Danny foot caught his ankle when something obvious clicked into place and almost face planted. He grabbed his hair in both his hands. "Ancients! That's not my house!"
I wrote this as a reblog for someone's concept, and Tumblr ATE IT!!! Then I absolutely could not find the original post. It's been a few weeks, and I did the best to recreate some of it, but I'm getting frustrated. This is what you get. Take it or leave it.
Found it! Inspired by this post: here!
The Justice League has been dealing with matters related to the Undead recently. And JLD could barely handle the undead. That is until Constantine had called in a favor from someone he knew. A young man in a black trench coat with a skeleton following him everywhere, that skeleton had a burned headband on it.
The young man is a necromancer, and he is very good at handling the matters of the undead. He just has a bit of disdain for the Justice League and keeps to himself whenever he is around any Justice League member. The only person he seems to trust is Constantine, as he doesn't even interact with the rest of the JLD members. The young man had told them that he's only helping because he owed Constantine quite a few favors, and once Constantine used up all those favors on helping the Justice League, he's done with them, which means he'll leave the Justice League and Justice League Dark to deal with the undead.
Danny's life was as good as it could get. His parents had accepted him as Phantom, Clockwork assured Danny that he doesn't have to be the Ghost King just yet, his grades are steadily rising, and he is scheduling fights with his Ghostly Rogues.
That is until the GIW had shown up again. They were in the process of isolating Amity when the entire city fought back against them.
There were a few casualties, which mostly consisted of people Danny is close to. His parents, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, Dash, Mr. Lancer and Star had perished during the struggle, and only those close to Danny hadn't become Ghosts. There wasn't enough to recover from them. Danny only has a few things to remember them by. His mom's Goggles, his dad's fudge recipe, Sam's bracelet, Tucker's PDA, and Valerie's earrings. Jazz was the only one to be buried, as she still had a body that wasn't vaporized.
He tried looking for Dani and Vlad but learned from Technus that they were captured and ended by the GIW. Now, the only person he has to lean on is his "Uncle" Constantine.
Constantine has helped Danny many times during his first years as Phantom. That's why Danny owes Constantine so many favors. He had tried to call help from the Justice League whenever Constantine wasn't around, but he was just brushed off. Hence why he doesn't like helping the Justice League's undead problems. He had also asked Technus to put his information and anything else related to him under lock and key. He doesn't want the Justice League to access and have files of his information. He's got Jazz's skeleton with him because he's taken up the role of Ghost King, and it came with Pariah's ability to raise a skeleton army if need be, but he only uses it on Jazz and other nearby buried bodies to help him deal with undead that aren't Ghosts. He also doesn't want to show his Ghostly half to the Justice League.
He's gotten quite good at hiding his mental presence from the Martians on the Justice League, but some of his emotions and thoughts slipped through. Now, the Justice League is being annoying to him by trying to apologize to him for whatever it is they did to him so they could still rely on him for any undead related issues.
Danny’s on the Suicide Squad. He’s the defacto team moral compass and ray of sunshine. He plays the role of the camp counselor that keeps everyone in line. He’s not afraid of working with even the gnarliest of baddies.
Everybody on the team wonders how he ended up locked up with the villains- he never talks about what he did to end up behind bars no matter how much they pester him. Then one day they’re out on a mission and Harley or somebody is caught and tortured. Danny snaps. It’s the opposite of brutal- he takes down everyone in the room with clinical, dispassionate efficiency.
After it’s over and the team is safe he comes back to himself and is almost sheepish. He radios Belle Reve.
“Whoops. Add another couple notches on my power dampener collar, would you Waller?”
“Can’t, it’s already at max.”
“Ah. Well. I’ll have a look at strengthening it when we’re back then.”
The team just stared at him slack jawed. Good thing he’s on their side.
To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound
Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.
He can see ghosts.
The ghosts know this.
Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.
Except for this one very stubborn dog.
It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?
And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.
He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.
Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.
Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.
Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.
Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.
And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.
(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)
Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.
Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.
And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.
(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)
Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.
Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.
Cue shitstorm.
Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?
Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he’s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.
Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.
Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.
Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.
Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.
Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!
Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.
You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?
Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.
He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.
And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.
The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.
Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.
A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.
Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.
And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.
OG
In a series of unknown events Jason woke up to something warm and vibrating on his chest, as well as what he belatedly recognized as purring near his face.
Opening his eyes he found a fluffy black cat on his chest, doing what Damian had called a "perfect cat loaf" once when showing him a picture of Alfred the cat. Rubbing his eyes he stared at the cat, he didn't have a cat.
Bedroom door? Closed.
Window? Closed.
How did a cat get in here? Did Damian need to hide a cat and forget to tell him? He shuddered as he was reminded of that one time out of many in the league where he woke up with some kind of lizard or snake suddenly in his room.
Well, the purring was nice, and Jason knew as well as anybody that you didn't disturb a napping kitty. Reaching over to his nightstand he looked at his phone, no new messages from his family, a pic from Roy with Lian did make him smile at least. Opening the chat with Damian he took a photo of the cat and sent it with the caption " This yours?"
He saw that the message got read, then nothing, okay then.
"Yip!" Suppressing a flinch and clutching his phone, so he didn't throw it, he snapped his head to the side and saw a small, green puppy leaning its head on his mattress while staring up at him.
Slowly Jason turned his phone to snap another picture, this time of the dog, before sending it to Damian with a "What the fuck?" - read again, then nothing. The puppy whimpered. Jason glanced at it again. The puppy seemed to stand on its hind legs while his front legs were now clawing at his mattress so he could get up on the bed.
"The brat owes me so much, up you go, be nice to the cat." Helping the dog up with one hand while trying not to jostle the cat was a bit of a struggle with the pup squirming so much. But as soon as the puppy was up he walked over to the cat, laid his head down on his front paws and gave small licks to the cats' side.
The cat opened its eyes, an intense green, nearly glowing, turned to the dog, gave him a lick over his nosebridge and then went back to napping.
The puppy jumped up, proceeded to hit Jason square in the face with his fast wagging tail and then gave playful growls to the cat, obsiously wanting to play.
The cat ignored it.
The puppy suddenly pounced, making the cat roll off Jasons chest with a squaking meow before it landed on its legs and proceeded to jump off the bed towards Jasons legs and then to the ground. The puppy followed, happily yipping at the cat. White botted paws now visible as Jason feared the worst, but before he could do anything the cat suddenly stilled, ears flickering.
The puppy tilted its head, gave the cat a lick before the cat swished its tail into the puppies face and bolted through the wall out of the bedroom.
Well... that explained how it entered, and the puppy followed, also through the wall, and Jason decided he needed breakfast before he tried to make sense of what just happened.
He stopped when he saw Damian break in through the window just as he entered his living room. The two brothers stared at each other.
"Tt. Where is the cat Todd?" Damian closed the window behind himself, looking around.
"It ran outside through the wall." 'Cause why not? Why should Jason be the only one baffled on this fine morning?
Had the idea of ER nurse Danny and ER doc Damian working in the same ER.
Like their the same age but Danny was working there first (bc it takes less time to become a nurse than a Dr) and everyone in the ER loves him. He is the most component nurse they’ve ever had and is always cool, calm and collected even in the most stressful of times. Drs know that if shit hits the fan they can pass any patient that’s not dying right this second over to Danny and he’ll get them sorted all by himself, cracking jokes the whole time to keep everyone else from freaking out.
Then Damian starts working there and he’s basically a no nonsense Danny. Nothing fazes the guy. On his second day there he handled a gun shoot wound, spinal injury, rib fracture and stabbing all within an hour of starting his shift, all on different patients. He gets in, gets shit done and moves on as if he was dealing with a minor problem not 3rd degree burns.
Now these two, despite working at the same hospital, have never met. Bc Danny works the night shift and Damian works the day and every person that works there is so fucking glad that’s the case bc non of them expect them to get alone. Like Danny’s all wise cracks and jokes and Damian is all ‘stop wasting time’ so even tho they’re both efficient as fuck, no one expects them to tolerate each other.
Then on the first Halloween Damian works there, every member of staff is on shift bc it’s fucking Gotham and all the staff r just bracing for the inevitable fall out of two unstoppable objects colliding. Only it never happens bc these two get alone like a house on fire. Like yeah normally Damian gets up people goofing off but that’s bc their not doing work and just wasting time, he sees nothing wrong with Danny’s jokes bc he’s getting work done while he jokes. It’s like working with Dick, he honestly finds it a bit reassuring bc if Danny is cracking jokes it can’t be that bad. Danny on the other hand is just so glad to have someone else that can keep pace with him. Normally by this time of night he’s juggling 8 to 18 patients on his own with only minimal help from the on shift doctors but now Damian is right there with him and the two r basically tag teaming the hoard of mass casualties that just came in.
Needless to say that night Gotham general was the most efficient hospital on the planet and every doctor and nurse on staff have the horrible realisation that while they had mentally prepared for these two fighting, they hadn’t prepared for the fucking hurricane these two form when they get alone. 
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
Sam: *slams hands on table* You're a YA protagonist!
Danny: *confused* I'm.....not?
Sam: *points at Jason reading in the corner* That's your boyfriend?
Danny: Yes?
Sam: Your Crime Lord Boyfriend?
Danny: That doesn't mean that I'm a-
Sam: Your crime lord boyfriend that is also the child of this citys billionaire and could buy you anything you wanted?
Danny: *flustered* Well, i-
Sam: Your crime lord boyfriend that's loaded that's also a revanant, and constantly around you because he "feels himself when he's around you"?
Danny:....
Sam:.....
Danny:.....Oh Ancients, I'm a YA protagonist.
Sam: Glad you've noticed.
Sam:..
Sam: Also he growls alot.
Danny: *flustered* Sam!