satoshy12

[satoshy12]

Superman wasn't sure how it happened. He thought this would happen to Bruce's kids.

But the new Cat Thief was from Metropolis, and her Batman was his own son, Superboy.

He blushed when asked about his "rival," and his wife, Lois, supported the duo.

Lois said, "It's not that bad. Ellie is a good girl." Clark: "Bruce called me to laugh at me! When he saw the newspaper!"

He shows an article written by Lois Lane.

[About the Superboy-villainess romance.]

Lois: "… Ellie is adorable. And you work with her father and mother!"

Clark: "The Hero Phantom refuses to accept that his baby princess is a villainess and ignores it up when we talk about it. The Red Huntress supports her husband."

Lois: "That makes sense. But get ready. Jon's girlfriend and her family are visiting us today."

[satoshy12]

with how often joker escaped death. You can believe me in a DP crossover he long time isn't a human anymore. But something like Solomon

As Alfred said it's okay. They didn't much, only as he didn't return for days. They did go, something is wrong

Jazz Bitch-Slapped the Jaw Off of the Joker

Jazz Fenton was not having a good day.

At first, everything had been fine.

One moment, she was leaving Gotham University after a psychology conference; the next, she was shoved onto a hijacked bus with a dozen other civilians. Her phone was dead, her coffee had spilled across her notes for the professor’s speech, and the city’s resident nightmare clown was pacing the aisle like he was about to launch into a twisted comedy routine.

“Ladies, children, and germs!” the Joker crooned, spinning with a knife in one hand and a revolver in the other. “Welcome aboard the Fun Bus! Final destination: chaos! Population: me!”

Jazz rolled her eyes. She’d dealt with ghosts, Dan, ancient warlords, monsters—and Danny when he was hyped up on ecto-energy and sugar. Compared to that, this painted lunatic was just loud.

Then her heart froze.

At the front of the bus, the Joker grabbed a passenger by the collar: a boy with sharp green eyes, dark hair, and a glare so intense it could peel paint. Jazz’s breath caught.

“Danny?” she whispered.

Why was her baby brother here in Gotham? Had he followed her to make sure she was safe? He wasn’t supposed to leave Amity Park without telling her. And he wasn’t even bothering to hide his ghostly green eyes. What was he thinking?

The Joker pressed his knife under the boy’s chin. “Now, let’s see… Which one of you little ducklings wants to quack first? Maybe you, Brucie’s brat, eh?”

Jazz didn’t think. She didn’t reason. She didn’t plan.

She moved.

The slap cracked through the bus like a thunderclap. The Joker’s head whipped sideways, his chalk-white jawbone flying across the aisle, smacking into the window before clattering to the floor like a cheap Halloween prop.

Everyone froze.

The Joker staggered, blinking. He touched the empty space where his jaw had been, then let out a garbled, wet sound that was half laugh, half choke.

“Ohhh…” he managed. “That’s… that’s a killer punchline, Red.”

Scooping up his jaw, he shoved it into his coat pocket and wobbled toward the bus doors. “I’m gonna find a doctor. Gotta smile, y’know? Keep the brand alive!” He cackled through the bloody gap in his mouth before limping off into the Gotham night.

The hostages stared.

Jazz shook out her stinging hand. Worth it. She turned to the boy she thought was Danny. “Are you okay? You shouldn’t be here. What were you thinking, showing off your meta eyes like that?” Meta worked as code—her parents believed Danny was a metahuman, not a ghost.

The boy blinked. “I… what?”

Jazz grabbed his shoulders, adrenaline still burning. She pulled him off the bus and toward her motel.

Damian didn’t say much—mostly because he was fairly sure he’d just been kidnapped. But, strangely, it felt like a good kidnapping. He let the redheaded girl rant until they reached her room.

“Danny, you scared me half to death! You can’t just wander into Gotham and get kidnapped by clowns! What if I hadn’t been here? What if—”

“I am not your brother,” the boy cut in, sharp and cold. His voice carried the crisp arrogance of someone twice his age. “My name is Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne. I do not require your protection.”

Jazz froze. “…Huh?”

Damian crossed his arms, glaring as if she’d just insulted his sword collection.

“Though…” he admitted, rubbing his chin, “that was impressive. Most can’t land a blow on the Joker, let alone dismantle his face.”

Jazz blinked, finally processing. This wasn’t Danny. This was someone else—a rich Gotham kid with the same eyes, the same scowl, and the same stubborn tilt of the chin. Her cheeks flushed.

“Oh,” she said faintly. “Oops.”

“You mistook me for your brother,” Damian said flatly. “Understandable. I imagine he is troublesome, foolish, and in need of constant supervision. If that is how you reacted.”

Jazz sputtered. “He’s not—well, okay, sometimes, but that doesn’t mean—”

“And now,” Damian went on, ignoring her, “you appear to have… adopted me.” He sounded irritated, but there was the faintest flicker of something else in his tone—curiosity. Maybe even amusement.

Jazz tilted her head. “Adopted you? What do you mean?”

He frowned. “You dragged me off the bus and scolded me as if I were family. You struck down the Joker without hesitation to defend me. You remind me of someone.”

She hesitated. The kid had a point. She’d assumed he was Danny, and the big-sister instinct had flipped on full force. And once it flipped, there was no turning it off.

Damian’s lips twitched, almost into a smile. “So, I suppose I have been… adoptnapped.”

“Adoptnapped?” Jazz repeated, laughing despite herself. After all, she had dragged the poor boy into her room.

“Don’t abuse the term,” he warned, though the bite was gone from his voice. “But I’ll allow it.”

Jazz smirked, folding her arms. “Fine. You’re my responsibility now. Which means you’re going to listen when I tell you not to throw yourself in front of homicidal clowns. How about we eat something?”

Damian gave her a look that was equal parts incredulous and resigned. “I am a vegetarian.”

Somehow, Jazz knew he’d liked adoptnapped. “Great. While I cook, you can tell me more about you.”

Notes: It took his family a few days to realize that Damian hadn't come home. Alfred told them that he had been "Batman'd" by a college girl and was staying at her house. He had already paid her to babysit Damian.

[satoshy12]

Jazz Bitch-Slapped the Jaw Off of the Joker

Jazz Fenton was not having a good day.

At first, everything had been fine.

One moment, she was leaving Gotham University after a psychology conference; the next, she was shoved onto a hijacked bus with a dozen other civilians. Her phone was dead, her coffee had spilled across her notes for the professor’s speech, and the city’s resident nightmare clown was pacing the aisle like he was about to launch into a twisted comedy routine.

“Ladies, children, and germs!” the Joker crooned, spinning with a knife in one hand and a revolver in the other. “Welcome aboard the Fun Bus! Final destination: chaos! Population: me!”

Jazz rolled her eyes. She’d dealt with ghosts, Dan, ancient warlords, monsters—and Danny when he was hyped up on ecto-energy and sugar. Compared to that, this painted lunatic was just loud.

Then her heart froze.

At the front of the bus, the Joker grabbed a passenger by the collar: a boy with sharp green eyes, dark hair, and a glare so intense it could peel paint. Jazz’s breath caught.

“Danny?” she whispered.

Why was her baby brother here in Gotham? Had he followed her to make sure she was safe? He wasn’t supposed to leave Amity Park without telling her. And he wasn’t even bothering to hide his ghostly green eyes. What was he thinking?

The Joker pressed his knife under the boy’s chin. “Now, let’s see… Which one of you little ducklings wants to quack first? Maybe you, Brucie’s brat, eh?”

Jazz didn’t think. She didn’t reason. She didn’t plan.

She moved.

The slap cracked through the bus like a thunderclap. The Joker’s head whipped sideways, his chalk-white jawbone flying across the aisle, smacking into the window before clattering to the floor like a cheap Halloween prop.

Everyone froze.

The Joker staggered, blinking. He touched the empty space where his jaw had been, then let out a garbled, wet sound that was half laugh, half choke.

“Ohhh…” he managed. “That’s… that’s a killer punchline, Red.”

Scooping up his jaw, he shoved it into his coat pocket and wobbled toward the bus doors. “I’m gonna find a doctor. Gotta smile, y’know? Keep the brand alive!” He cackled through the bloody gap in his mouth before limping off into the Gotham night.

The hostages stared.

Jazz shook out her stinging hand. Worth it. She turned to the boy she thought was Danny. “Are you okay? You shouldn’t be here. What were you thinking, showing off your meta eyes like that?” Meta worked as code—her parents believed Danny was a metahuman, not a ghost.

The boy blinked. “I… what?”

Jazz grabbed his shoulders, adrenaline still burning. She pulled him off the bus and toward her motel.

Damian didn’t say much—mostly because he was fairly sure he’d just been kidnapped. But, strangely, it felt like a good kidnapping. He let the redheaded girl rant until they reached her room.

“Danny, you scared me half to death! You can’t just wander into Gotham and get kidnapped by clowns! What if I hadn’t been here? What if—”

“I am not your brother,” the boy cut in, sharp and cold. His voice carried the crisp arrogance of someone twice his age. “My name is Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne. I do not require your protection.”

Jazz froze. “…Huh?”

Damian crossed his arms, glaring as if she’d just insulted his sword collection.

“Though…” he admitted, rubbing his chin, “that was impressive. Most can’t land a blow on the Joker, let alone dismantle his face.”

Jazz blinked, finally processing. This wasn’t Danny. This was someone else—a rich Gotham kid with the same eyes, the same scowl, and the same stubborn tilt of the chin. Her cheeks flushed.

“Oh,” she said faintly. “Oops.”

“You mistook me for your brother,” Damian said flatly. “Understandable. I imagine he is troublesome, foolish, and in need of constant supervision. If that is how you reacted.”

Jazz sputtered. “He’s not—well, okay, sometimes, but that doesn’t mean—”

“And now,” Damian went on, ignoring her, “you appear to have… adopted me.” He sounded irritated, but there was the faintest flicker of something else in his tone—curiosity. Maybe even amusement.

Jazz tilted her head. “Adopted you? What do you mean?”

He frowned. “You dragged me off the bus and scolded me as if I were family. You struck down the Joker without hesitation to defend me. You remind me of someone.”

She hesitated. The kid had a point. She’d assumed he was Danny, and the big-sister instinct had flipped on full force. And once it flipped, there was no turning it off.

Damian’s lips twitched, almost into a smile. “So, I suppose I have been… adoptnapped.”

“Adoptnapped?” Jazz repeated, laughing despite herself. After all, she had dragged the poor boy into her room.

“Don’t abuse the term,” he warned, though the bite was gone from his voice. “But I’ll allow it.”

Jazz smirked, folding her arms. “Fine. You’re my responsibility now. Which means you’re going to listen when I tell you not to throw yourself in front of homicidal clowns. How about we eat something?”

Damian gave her a look that was equal parts incredulous and resigned. “I am a vegetarian.”

Somehow, Jazz knew he’d liked adoptnapped. “Great. While I cook, you can tell me more about you.”

Notes: It took his family a few days to realize that Damian hadn't come home. Alfred told them that he had been "Batman'd" by a college girl and was staying at her house. He had already paid her to babysit Damian.

[satoshy12]

Ghost Duels are like a date, when it's fair 1 vs 1 and both accept it"

The Watchtower always felt strange to Danny Fenton, but he loved looking out the window at the stars. He loved the silence—the nice kind of silence.

But disaster always seemed to follow him. Even when he was just standing at a window, enjoying the view.

Right now, disaster came in the form of his clone sister, Dani—also known as Lumi—fighting Jon Kent in the training arena. The two blurred across the mat, Jon’s Kryptonian strength clashing against Dani’s ghost powers. Green energy flared brighter each time she pushed herself harder.

Raven watched with her usual cool detachment, though her narrowed eyes betrayed something almost like concern. She knew more about ghosts than anyone else in the League, and to her, this duel was more than just a spar.

Superman stood beside her, arms folded tightly across his chest, as sparks of ectoplasm hissed against the reinforced shields surrounding the ring. His son was getting stronger.

“He’s fighting a ghost,” Raven said finally, her voice low but clear. “And in their culture, duels often serve as… courtship.”

Clark’s head snapped toward her. “What?” His voice pitched up almost comically.

Behind them, Batman shifted, giving the conversation his full attention. “Danny Phantom never had that problem. Why would Jon?” It was true—none of Danny’s enemies ever seemed interested in courting him.

Raven’s lips curved into the faintest frown. “Because she challenged him. And he accepted. That makes this something else entirely. If both want it, if he’s strong enough, she’ll see him as a mate… or at least a boyfriend.”

The words landed like a heavy stone. Clark turned back to the ring. His son was laughing as he traded blows with a ghost girl who only fought harder the more he pushed her. It did look like a date, he thought uneasily.

Bruce made a thoughtful grunt. “Romance through violence. Sounds familiar.” He was thinking of Talia. And Selina.

Cassie Sandsmark leaned against a nearby wall, pretending not to listen, but her grin gave her away. She pushed off the wall as Raven finished speaking. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to look for Phantom.”

Raven’s head snapped around, hood rustling. “Wonder Girl! Did you not listen?”

“Oh, I did.” Cassie’s grin only widened. “And you just made this so much better. Fighting is courting? Fuck yeah.”

Before anyone could stop her, she strode off, golden lasso bouncing at her side.

Clark rubbed his face with both hands. “Poor Phantom. He has his own Maxima now.” His head shot up. “Wait—Jon!”

Danny had seen plenty of weird things, but watching his clone sister try to body-slam Superboy into the mat was definitely top ten. And when it didn’t work, she still looked adorable.

“Lumi! Ease up!” Danny shouted, his voice cracking, as Jon twisted in midair and landed with a thud. Jon only laughed, brushing himself off like he’d just stepped off a roller coaster.

“This is awesome!” Jon grinned. “You’re really strong!”

“Duh.” Dani smirked, green fire sparking at her fingertips. “But you’re not bad either. Most guys can’t keep up with me.”

“Good thing I’m not most guys.” Jon’s grin turned sheepish, but his eyes shone.

Danny groaned. This was exactly the kind of mess he didn’t want. Ghost culture was complicated. He already knew what was happening: Dani’s duel wasn’t just training. It was a test. A challenge.

“Phantom!”

Danny turned just in time to see Cassie Sandsmark drop down from the observation platform. She landed with a hero’s grace and a grin that made his stomach flip.

“Oh no,” Danny muttered.

Cassie cracked her knuckles. “So, Raven said fighting counts as courting for you, huh?”

Danny raised his hands. “Wait, wait, hold on a sec—”

She lunged. Danny dodged.

From the observation deck, Bruce’s eyebrow twitched as the chaos below escalated. Dani and Jon paused their spar to watch Wonder Girl and Danny Phantom circle each other like predators.

“There are now two duels,” Raven said flatly. “This will not end well.”

Clark muttered something suspiciously like a prayer. He was having Maxima flashbacks.

Danny didn’t want to fight her. Not because he couldn’t—he’d handled worse, though Wonder Girl packed a punch—but because he knew exactly what it meant. Still, when Cassie Sandsmark came at you swinging, defending yourself was the only option.

Her fist whipped past his head, cracking the air like a whip. Danny ducked, phased through the mat, and reappeared behind her. “Cassie, seriously! You don’t know what you’re—”

She spun, golden lasso flashing as it snapped toward him. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing! You’re cute and powerful, and apparently the way to your heart is through a fight. Perfect for me!”

Danny yelped as the lasso nearly caught his ankle. “That’s not—okay, it’s sort of true, but it’s complicated! I’d love to date you. We don’t need to fight first!”

“You can explain after I win!”

Dani leaned on the barrier next to Jon, smirking ear to ear. “Told you, bro. Girls like us don’t waste time. Fight first, talk later. Then date.”

Jon chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”

The duel descended into pure chaos.

Danny phased through Cassie’s lasso again and again, tossing harmless ectoblasts to keep her back. She blocked each one with her bracelets; their clashes lit the room like fireworks.

“You’re fast!” she shouted, charging.

“And you’re stubborn!” Danny shot back, catching her punch on an ecto-shield. The force rattled his arm, but he held. “Cassie, this isn’t just sparring! You’re basically—”

“Courting? Yeah, I heard.” She pushed harder against his shield, grin unshakable. “So don’t hold back, Phantom. Show me what you’ve got! You know what they say, you like it put a Ring on it!”

Danny’s face burned green with embarrassment and power. He wanted to handle this like a human, not a way ghost. But well, Cassie was only half-human, too. She was a demigod.

Above, Superman sighed while Batman muttered something about teenagers. Raven folded her arms and said dryly,

“At this rate, Phantom will have two mates before the day is done.”

Bruce’s lips twitched. “Efficient.”

Clark groaned. “Not helping, Bruce.”

The fight peaked when Cassie’s lasso finally caught Danny’s wrist. She yanked him forward, and they collided chest to chest. His shield flickered out. For a moment, they froze—breathing hard, eyes locked.

“You’re good,” Cassie whispered, grin softening. She wasn’t attacking anymore. She was just looking at him.

“You’re insane,” Danny muttered—but he was smiling, too.

From the sidelines, Dani cheered, throwing her arms up. “That’s my brother!”

Jon laughed, rubbing his sore shoulder. “Guess we both lost today.”

Superman pinched the bridge of his nose, silently swearing that ghost culture had just made his life ten times harder. How was he supposed to explain this to Lois?

Raven’s only comment was, “Welcome to the courtship rituals of the Infinite Realms.”

[satoshy12]

Danny and his friends had been in this new world for a few weeks with their families.

He was doing pretty well, even though he and his friend were deaged. Sadly, their parents loved it.

His mom and dad were well, his mom and dad. His dad was working as a scientist again, but not ghost hunting. Danny is a phantom. They were helping Doctor Fries right now.

Jazz was studying online psychology in this city. It was better done online in Gotham than owning a place. Funny enough, her calendar is full. For her five-day workweek, she had a patient for every hour.

Tucker, with his tiny body, was working at Wayne Technology Company. They allowed him to work because they learned he already had his Ph.D. Sam was an environmental activist, and her parents seemed happier to help their now little adorable daughter.

And for him. He is working to get into NASA, so he spends his time at Gotham University. His new friend and classmate, Damian, is a nice guy. His family and friends already like him.

+ At first, Damian thought the boy was his father's spawn. But after meeting the Fenton family, he realized that wasn't the case. Still, he liked spending time with that young Meta. That Eyes he saw glow, and help Sam with her activist work.

[satoshy12]

Clockwork introduces Danny to Dr. Fate as his mentor for a short time. This is to help Danny's powers, while Clockwork is busy.

At first, Nabu was unsure if he should even do that, but Clockwork's promise of an own body did convince him to teach Danny. Finally he won't need a damn Host.

[satoshy12]

Batman looked at the toddler and told the rest, "I have a plan."

Superman and the rest of the Justice League at Once: "That isn't it. I take the baby."

Batman after a few seconds: "Okay ... I plan a new plan."

[satoshy12]

Why everyone knows, Clark Kent isn't Superman

Lex:" When Clark works to help people around the world, Superman takes his identity and tries to trick people into thinking he is Clark Kent. That way, they won't ask who he is. That's how he covers up his relationship with Lois Lane, as both Clark and Superman. Poor Clark; he never listens when we try to explain."

Any of Superman's villains believes that, too. Poor Clark Kent. Someone should tell him.

[satoshy12]

sweet I had just read it

De-aged Danny at Gotham University with Jazz

After somehow waking up as a preschooler, Danny wasn't sure what to do. His parents and others were unsure of what to say or do. And as it turned out, they weren't even trying to fix it. As it's again Adorable baby Danny, they can fix it later.

Later Jazz was told to babysit her baby brother while their family was away, something with the G.I.W. or similar in amity park.

So she just took him with her to school. And the funny thing was that the professors accepted him because he didn't scream and make problems. He could stay and listen to the class.

+ Out of sheer boredom, Danny started working on the tests the students were taking, completely unaware that they were considered difficult.

To the teachers' delight, he aced every exam he took. From math to History or Art.

+

Meanwhile, Tim sat in shock, frozen in place until someone had to nudge him to move.

"What's going on?" Damian shouted, breaking the silence.

The engineering professor replied, "He didn't get first place on the test, so he's stuck like this."

"So?" Dick interjected, looking puzzled. "It's not the first time."

The professor added, "He lost to the little sibling of our top student."

He gestured to little Danny, who was strolling past them. Dick did a double take while Damian burst out laughing.

[satoshy12]

A bond of Time

Ra's al Ghul sat at his desk in the dimly lit chamber of the League of Assassins' stronghold. A steaming cup of tea cooled beside his papers. The immortal's pen paused mid-signature as his mind wandered—not to plots or conquests, but to bloodlines. His own bloodline, too. If someone had ever asked Ra’s al Ghul who his favorite descendant was, he would not have hesitated. "It is Respawn," he would say in a deliberate tone implying his decision was absolute. Not Damian, as so many seem to assume.

He was not the heir who was bred with meticulous care and trained in blade and stratagem since infancy. He wasn't the boy who bore the sharp eyes of his mother and the stubborn chin of his detective father. No, Damian was complicated. Ra's found him to be too much of Bruce's son and not enough of an al Ghul. For Mara, it was the reverse. As for his own children, well, they are his kids.

Respawn was different.

It wasn't about familial love—not exactly. In Ra's mind, love was too imprecise a word and too vulnerable a thing. No, his affection for the boy came from something simpler. Respawn reminded him of someone he knew: Someone else with white hair and green eyes. It was similar to why he liked the detective with his black hair and blue eyes.

Daniel "Danny" Fenton-Phantom.

Ra leaned back in his chair, letting the name roll around in his mind.

The time traveler had appeared throughout history like a wayward comet, never staying long but leaving chaos and wonder in his wake.

Ra had encountered him during the Crusades, in feudal Japan, and on the docks of London during the Industrial Revolution. He always had that same infuriating, infectious grin, as if the world were a game and he were three moves ahead of everyone else. He had even thwarted some of his assassination attempts in the past.

Ra had once considered having Daniel marry one of his daughters. But fate had other ideas. The detective’s obsession with justice and Talia’s relentless ambition resulted in Damian.

The old man smiled faintly, but it was more the smile of a predator than a grandfather. He wondered if Damian had any idea how close he had come to being the son of a Ghost Hero. The last he had heard, Damian had joined the Justice League Group part-time. As the first modern hero, he liked Nabu and considered joining them.

A thought struck him. Perhaps it was time for Damian to meet Danielle.

Ra tapped his pen against the desk in quiet contemplation. Danielle—Danny's...what had he called her? Cousin? Clone? Daughter? The truth was complicated, but Ra could see the similarities. They had the same green eyes and the same smirk when challenged. If any two young warriors could find common ground, it would be them.

And why not?

Ra remembered Cairo in 1985, a desert night when the temple was under siege. He recalled the way Daniel had emerged from the smoke, carrying his unconscious daughter, Nyssa, as if she weighed nothing. The boy had never asked for thanks. But Ra had insisted on exchanging contact information before Daniel vanished again.

It was an absurdly mundane gesture for such an extraordinary connection—scribbling down a number on cheap hotel stationery—but Ra kept it. Remarkably, it still worked when he tried to call Daniel after seeing him on TV.

He did not call often. Perhaps once every few months, when the weight of centuries became too much, he craved a conversation with someone who understood both immortality and isolation.

He dialed without hesitation. The phone rang twice before the line clicked.

"Ra's al Ghul," came the voice—wry, young, and with that unshakable confidence that made the immortal want to strangle him at least half the time. "You're either in trouble or bored."

"Family," Ra's said simply.

There was a pause. "That's...new."

"I believe it is time for three of my grandchildren to meet Danielle: The whole Trio: Respawn, Mara and Damian.”

Danny let out a low whistle. "That's a dangerous combination, old man. Are you sure you’re not just trying to cause an international incident? Did you ask Bruce if you could send Robin on a playdate?”

"Possibly," Ra admitted, "but think of the educational value."

Danny chuckled, and for a moment, Ra could almost see that same white-haired figure stepping out of battle as he fought him and Vandal, laughing in the face of death. “All right. But if Damian tries to stab her, I'll let her stab back.”

Ra wasn't sure why he thought Damian would stab Robin and not Respawn or Mara. But yeah, he could see Damian trying it, too. He replied: "I would expect nothing less."

They settled on a date and a meeting place—at least as neutral as any place could be under the watchful eye of the League of Assassins. When the call ended, Ra replaced the receiver in its cradle and sat in silence for a moment.

This meeting would not be without risk. But then, the most interesting games never are.

The door to his study creaked open, and Ubu entered, bowing low. "My lord, the scouts report—"

“Later,” Ra interrupted. "Call Mara and tell her she will meet with Damian and Respawn later."

Ubu hesitated, wisely deciding not to question the order, and withdrew to search for Mara.

[satoshy12]

Superman, the Father of a Tyrant

The Observants prided themselves on their foresight. They guided Ghost King Pariah Dark’s reign, curbed his excesses to some extent, and prevented the Ghost Zone from descending into chaos...most of the time.

Now, however, they faced a unique problem: Pariah had an heir after his defeat at the hands of the Halfa. Heirs of kings—especially dictatorial, war-hungry ones—needed careful guidance to avoid repeating their predecessors' mistakes. The goal was not to teach them how to rule, but rather how not to. 

Before them stood infant Daniel "Danny" Fenton, also known as Danny Phantom, the hero. After the Ghostly Incursion War (GIW) bombing of Amity Park, they picked him up and took him to Clockwork. Now, they had to consider his future. They also had to consider how to prevent him from becoming depressed. They did just that by turning him into a child with Clockwork's help. It was much kinder that way, as no one in Amity Park had become a ghost from the anti-ghost bomb that the GIW had used. They had to make sure he is taken of. 

One Observant floated before the Council. "It is decided. We will send the heir of a tyrant to—"

Another Observant blinked after their leader finished to explain. "So they can learn from the worst?"

"Precisely. The mistakes of one mad ruler will be the lessons of the next. As we know that the other heroes would save the child and once he becomes king they know what to not do as Ruler. Seeing all the evil that Tyrant did. But still be ready to finish the job."

There was a murmur of agreement. After all, if a king was a dictator, the council only advised; they didn't make choices for him. Best of all, if the heir was out of the Zone, there was less paperwork.

After a brief and highly questionable magical procedure, Pariah’s heir was transformed into a human infant.

"Who shall we pick?"

The lead Observant’s single eyelid narrowed. "We don't really have a list, but I know just the man."

Clark and Lois's Apartment — Morning

Clark Kent was in the middle of making coffee when a green light suddenly filled the kitchen. An enormous floating eyeball appeared, holding a swaddled baby.

Clark blinked. "That's new."

"You are Kal-El," the observer intoned, "also known as Clark Kent."

"...Yes?"

The Observant unfolded a scroll with one of his hands. "Husband of Lois Lane?"

Clark frowned. "Yes, I—wait, why are you reading my bio like it's my Wikipedia page?"

"Here it states," the Observant continued in the same flat tone, "that you murdered her and your unborn child."

Clark froze. “What?!”

"Yes, after the Joker tricked you into it, of course. Also, Metropolis was destroyed by the nuke the Joker used. You executed the Joker in prison before Batman and then became a cruel tyrant who still insists he is a hero.”

“Excuse me?!”

The observer tilted its head. "Oh, wait. What year is it?”

Clark, still in shock, told him. There was an awkward pause.

"Ah," the Observant said. "We appear to be early. My apologies. We'll come back later, once everything has happened. It's time to search for another tyrant—"

A burst of green light appeared, and the baby vanished with the Observant. A thick file landed with a thunk on Clark’s kitchen table. Across the cover, in bold letters, was written: INJUSTICE: THE REGIME.

Clark opened it. Each page was worse than the last—transcripts, photos, battle reports, and atrocities. His hands trembled. He had seen dark futures before, but this...this was about him.

Then the green light returned. The One Eye being floated back in with the same baby.

"On second thought," it said, placing the infant in Clark's arms, "you are perfect for our purposes. Raise him as an example of what not to do as a tyrant. Ensure he learns that power must be balanced with mercy.”

Clark stared at the baby. Bright blue eyes blinked up at him. Tiny fingers grabbed his cape.

"I—what?"

"Temporary arrangement," the Observant said. "Until we find another tyrant. Where he can life under."

Then, it vanished, leaving Clark alone, holding a baby and with a horrifying knowledge of his possible future.

Fifteen minutes later, the Justice League's communication line rings.

Ring. Ring.

"Pick up! Pick up! Pick up—"

A click. "Clark," said Batman's gravelly voice. "What's the emergency?"

Clark’s voice was tight. "What's your plan if I go insane and the Joker tricks me into killing Lois? I kill him. Then Metropolis gets nuked and I establish myself as a global tyrant."

"That's oddly specific."

“A floating eyeball from another dimension just dropped off a massive file documenting my descent into madness and left me with a baby!”

There was a pause on the line. "Describe the baby."

"Human. Black hair, blue eyes. I have no idea where he came from. They said I’m supposed to teach him not to be a tyrant."

“I have a plan,” Batman said at last.

"That plan is not 'take the baby,'" Clark warned.

"... Fine. I’ll make a new plan.”

"You seriously had a plan to take a baby if I were given one?"

“Yes. For all League members. It’s in the file labeled Parental Failure Protocols.”

Clark’s jaw dropped. “You have plans to take babies from everyone?”

“Yes.” ��How many oddly specific plans do you have?” "Several dozen."

"Bruce," Clark groaned. “There’s being prepared, and then there’s being incredibly paranoid.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

Clark sighed and glanced at the baby, who had tangled himself in Superman’s cape and was giggling. "Yes."

Later that night at Wayne Manor:

Bruce examined the child's DNA using the Batcomputer. "He's not from our world. I can tell you that part of his DNA is human; the rest, I'm not sure about."

"Neither was the floating eyeball," Clark muttered.

Alfred appeared with a bottle. "If Master Kent insists on keeping the child alive until the tyrant's plan is resolved, he should learn how to feed the child."

The baby let out a soft coo, and his eyes glowed faintly green for a moment before returning to their normal baby blue color. Bruce noticed.

"This is going to be a problem," he said flatly.

Clark crossed his arms. "He's just a baby."

"That's what they all say," Bruce replied, turning away. "I'm still not sure how your parents hid your powers." Try telling people you know he's a meta baby and see if that works."

Somewhere in the Ghost Zone:

The Observant floated back to the council chambers.

"Has the heir been placed?" "Yes, in the care of Kal-El." "Excellent. Will he learn humility?"

The lead Observant hesitated. "...Possibly. Either that, or Superman will learn to never become a tyrant in the first place. Either outcome is acceptable."

The others nodded.

After all, the Ghost Zone's paperwork load had just been dramatically reduced. The young heir was no longer there to bring chaos. As Clockwork didn't do anything, it must have been part of a plan.

Back in Metropolis — Two Days Later:

Clark sat on the couch, rocking the baby. According to the name stitched into his blanket, his name was Danny.

The future loomed large in his mind. The file sat on the coffee table, unopened since the first day.

Lois walked in, having returned from her work overseas, and raised an eyebrow. "Whose baby is this?"

Clark looked at her, deadly serious. "Lois, we need to talk about the Joker."

[satoshy12]

I have to say The true goat and MC of Gundam 00. Was in truth Patrick Colasour

[satoshy12]

I like how Donkey Kong did go from Kidnapper

​To now Dad in the new Game

[satoshy12]

If you cut of a dwarf hands so he can't use the forge. Is it as bad as the beard or not?

[satoshy12]

A Gundam/Mecha DLC Fighter. Would then just the Fatality be the Mecha? or would the mecha then become smaller because of Plot and Magic?

[satoshy12]

The familiar glow of the Bat-Signal against the grim Gotham sky, a call Batman. Bruce inwardly groaned, excusing himself from the stifling grandeur of the annual Gotham Charity Gala with a polite, if somewhat abrupt, "I just need to use the restroom, Vlad."

Vlad Masters gave Bruce a hidden glare and paused, a glint in his eye that Bruce knew all too well. "Daniel, come!" he commanded.

Bruce watched, bewildered, as a tiny, black-haired toddler, no older than three, toddled over to Vlad's side. This was Daniel Fenton, Vlad's ward, a child Bruce had only recently heard about through the whispered rumors of Gotham’s elite, as Vlad bought him with him to the Gala. He assumed Vlad was fostering him as part of some elaborate tax write-off scheme. The thought that a man as notoriously self-serving as Vlad Masters would willingly take on the responsibility of a small child was baffling enough on its own. 

"You know it's Danny!" the little boy piped up, his voice surprisingly firm for his age. 

After an accident involving the GIW, Ghost Investigation Ward left Danny severely unstable. His parents and Vlad worked really hard to save his life. The only lasting effect was that he went back to being a toddler.

This event surprisingly fixed the problems between Vlad and his parents. Vlad now really cares about them. You could say Uncle Vlad is good now.

Vlad ignored him, "Daniel," he said, turning his gaze back to Bruce, "Mr. Wayne fears he will get lost on his way to the toilet. So I want you to show him the way there and back."

Bruce’s jaw nearly hit the floor. This was ridiculous. He was Batman, for crying out loud! He could navigate the darkest alleyways of Gotham blindfolded, but Vlad Masters genuinely expected him to be escorted to the bathroom by a toddler. In his own mansion. The sheer audacity. He opened his mouth to protest, but Vlad's smirk widened, daring him to go against his Brucie Personality.

Danny, seemingly rather unfazed by the bizarre request, took Bruce’s outstretched hand – or rather, his finger, as his tiny grasp couldn't encompass more than a single digit. Bruce, still reeling, allowed himself to be led, his mind racing. This was a new level of humiliation.

The toddler, surprisingly confident for his size, pulled Bruce along through Gotham's wealthiest and most influential people. Bruce, ever the strategist, saw an opportunity. If he played along, perhaps Vlad would drop his guard.

They reached what Bruce realized was a less-frequented corridor in Wayne Manor, leading to a smaller, private washroom. Danny, however, paused outside the door, looking up at Bruce with wide, innocent blue eyes. "Are you really that way Uncle Vlad says it?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concentration. I mean, he talks shi-poop about many people. Mr. Luthor said the same thing too about you, you know."

Bruce, caught off guard, instinctively stiffened. This was dangerous territory. He remained silent, a carefully schooled expression of mild confusion on his face. He knew his reputation as a flighty socialite was vital for his alter ego, but this was pushing the boundaries of believable idiocy.

Danny tilted his head, studying Bruce’s unresponsiveness. Vlad was for once right. He is worse than dad.

Danny, with a determined tug on his finger, declared, "No fear, I won't let you get lost!" And with that, he began to lead Bruce not to the washroom, but back to Vlad and the Gala. 

Danny’s little face was beaming, a clear expression of pride at his important task. He looked so genuinely pleased to be helpful, and Bruce, despite the internal screaming of his inner Batman, found himself unable to crush that joy. He had played the "Brucie" role too well, too convincingly inept, and now he was stuck. 

Bruce found himself being paraded through the opulent ballroom by the tiny hand-holder. Whispers immediately rippled through the crowd. Phones were subtly raised, flashes flickered, and a wave of hushed amusement spread like wildfire.

Unbeknownst to Bruce, across the room, the Bat-Family, scattered among the guests in their civilian guises, were having the time of their lives. Damian, ever Stoic, had a barely perceptible smirk. Tim was openly struggling to suppress his laughter, occasionally burying his face in his hand. Dick was subtly filming the entire spectacle on his phone, a wide grin plastered across his face. Jason had left to answer the Batsignal, but the others had sent him videos of this.

"Wow, for once he didn't get lost in his own mansion," someone muttered.

"Looks like even Brucie needs a "baby"sitter now."

Bruce, despite the escalating mortification, maintained his vacant, charming smile, nodding vaguely at acquaintances as if this was all perfectly normal. 

The next morning, as Bruce sat at breakfast, still simmering from the previous night's charade, Alfred brought him the morning paper with a barely concealed smirk. The headline, emblazoned in bold letters, screamed:

---

Brucie Wayne Didn't Get Lost In A Gala!

---

*Gotham, June 19th:* In an unprecedented turn of events at the annual Gotham Charity Gala, billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne was observed navigating his own lavish manor with an unexpected guide: a charming toddler. Sources close to Mr. Wayne, who preferred to remain anonymous due to fear of getting lost, suggested that the young escort was providing invaluable assistance to the notoriously directionally challenged socialite.

"It was truly a sight to behold," remarked one prominent Gothamite, who requested anonymity. For the first time in memory, Mr. Wayne seemed to know exactly where he was going, thanks to his tiny companion."

The incident has sparked much discussion among Gotham's elite, with some speculating that Mr. Wayne has finally found a solution to his well-documented struggles with spatial awareness. Others, however, simply found the entire to be just Brucie Wayne.

---

Bruce crumpled the newspaper in his fist, a low growl escaping his lips. "Vlad Masters," he swore, would pay for this. He had been played, outmaneuvered by a cunning rival. 

The incident was already a running joke on every news channel and on social media. His carefully constructed image as an endearing, but harmless dimwit had just been cemented in the public consciousness like never before.

"Well, Master Bruce," Alfred said, his voice laced with amusement, "at least you didn't get lost, as the article so eloquently puts it."

Bruce just glared at the News-Papers, a new mission forming in his mind. He had to figure out how to get back at Vlad Masters because of this public humiliation.

Vlad, Toddler Danny and the Gotham Gala

Bruce saw the Bat signal outside and wanted to leave the Gala. He told Vlad Masters that he needed to go to the toilet. Vlad Master glared at Bruce and said, "Daniel, come!" A tiny black-haired toddler came walking to them. After Danny was hit by the GIW, his parents tried to save his life, and Vlad helped them. The only side effect was toddler Danny. But somehow, this made the relationship much better with his parents. So Uncle Vlad is now good? Danny:" You know it's Danny!" Vlad:" Daniel, Mr. Wayne fears he will get lost on his way to the toilet. So I want you to show him the way there and back." + Tiny Danny led Mr. Wayne to his own bathroom. He wasn't sure if that was real, but Vlad and Mr. Luthor told him he wasn't the smartest. So he asked just to be sure. Danny:" Are you really that way Uncle Vlad says it? I mean, he talks poop about many people." Bruce Wayne, who knows it would be bad if people knew he faked it, didn't say anything.

+ Danny now knew for once Vlad was right: Mr. Wayne was worse than his dad. So he took his hand... I mean finger and led him around the Gala in the Wayne Mansion. "No fear, I won't let you get lost." That was how the media and Gotham Elite were greeted by Bruce Wayne being led around by a toddler to not get lost.

"Wow, for once he didn't get lost in his own Mansion." And it became a news article. "Brucie Wayne didn't get lost in a gala!"

[satoshy12]

Vlad in a Villain meeting as they asked about his new Scar." Ah the Badger!" The Great Doofensmirtz:" Wait you too? I have Perry the Platypus." Dr. Drakken looks at the scars on Vlad's body:" Well, Shego, we were lucky with Kim."