#crossover vibes

[karihighman]

One Chicago girls night ft. 🍱 & 🍷 •• 😄👍

[dcxdpdabbles]

Barbara: You are not going to believe what I found in Damian's laptop. It's actually a little worrying.

Bruce: Should I be worried as a father or as Batman?

Barbara: *So and so hand motion*

Bruce: *deep breath* What did you find?

Barbara: He has files upon files about a boy named Daniel Fenton. Apparently, he's been following him around for months documenting everything there is about him because, and I quote, "Fenton generates a airborne illness targeting humans. Symptoms include: Quicken heart, sweaty palms, flushing in the face, upset stomach and difficulty in speech."

Bruce: So he has a crush and instead of handling it in a healthy normal way, Damian just assumed that this Fenton boy is patient zero? And now he's stalking the boy to prove it.

Barbara: That's a good summary, yeah. Oh and he's doing it as Damian Wayne. I'm also like ninety-nine percent sure Fenton is aware of Damian following him around.

Bruce defeated: Of course he is. How bad is Fenton handling it?

Barbara: Suprisingly, I think he finds it funny. I hacked Fenton's messages to his friends back in Amity Park and he has described Damian as "A cute human trying to be a proper ghost in courting."

Bruce: What does that mean?

Barbara shrugging: Local teenage slang most likely. Other teenagers in Amity Park talk like that a lot from what I could dig up. In any case, you need to have a chat with Damian.

Bruce sighing: I'll dig up the old puberty books and speak with Damian tonight. There goes my bubble bath time....

Barbara patting his shoulder: May you one day soak for hours without your kids doing something stupid.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

We all know the semi-canonical ‘all the Robins know to hide/duck inside of Batman’s cape, even as adults’ thing.

We also know that Danny ‘is LITERALLY a ghost’ Fenton sucks at remembering his own intangibility while ALSO forgetting to look ahead of him.

All I’m saying is, Danny Fenton (or Phantom, if you’d really like) would absolutely SLAM into Batman on accident while running on roof tops and Bruce ‘Brooding Instinct’ Wayne doesn’t even think twice about letting the kid hide and scanning around for danger before there’s a record scratch of ‘wait who tf is this?’ kicks in.

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[somnoir]

Down Bad in Distress - Part 3

Part 2 | Masterpost

"Daniel, I heard from CW that your children are moving here." Alfred said one day.

Everyone immediately pauses, except for Danny who was happily doing the cooking while Alfred served the food.

"Danny's kids?" Tim narrows his eyes, glancing back at Jason. "Danny?"

"Yeah? Oh, right! Dick, you didn't tell them?" Danny asks, glancing over his shoulder.

Dick nervously laughs, "Slipped my mind. What's that about your kids?"

"Right, right. They didn't like being away from me all the time so they decided to move. I was hoping to enroll Ellie into Gotham Academy." Danny hums, serving Damian some vegan pancakes and patting the boy's head. "She'd be in your year, kid."

Damian scowls, swatting his hand away but it wasn't accompanied by the usual snark.

"And your son?" Dick asks, immediately being scolded by Alfred for talking while chewing.

"Dante takes a Mechanical Engineering course. It was harder for him to transfer since this would be his third year into it." Danny sighs, sounding a little tired just as he serves Bruce some coffee. "But my kid's stubborn as hell."

"How old are your children?" Bruce tilts his head, just as Danny swats away some dust of his shirt.

"Dan is 23 and Ellie is 15."

"Jason and Damian's age. Hm."

The aforementioned two immediately locked eyes, already mentally planning on tracking down the Fenton siblings. As per usual, Alfred beat them to it and quickly gave Danny an invitation.

"When are they arriving? I do hope that they can come for a meal." Alfred hums, patting Danny in the back.

"Today, actually!" Danny beams.

"You're not worried about your kids being in Gotham?" Steph asks, mouth still full. Danny doesn't even hesitate to pinch her sides when she does, making Stephanie yelp.

"My parents taught me and my sister how to fight at very young ages. My kids got the same treatment. Ellie has one hell of a right hook and Dan gets creative with whatever the hell he can use as a weapon." Danny snorts, "I got called by the principal once cause he stabbed someone with a pencil. Not that it wasn't deserved. My kid doesn't like it when people go after his friends."

"Gotham Material?" Duke asks.

"Gotham Material." Danny chuckles, "If a rogue attacks, my kids would go on with their day like nothing happened. Weird shit like that is normal back in Amity."

Ah, yes. The illusive amity park. Where everything is utterly strange. Tim still couldn't get a good background check on the small town in Illinois—a place that wasn't even marked on the fucking map.

"So..." Dick grins, "When do we get to meet them?"

Alfred clears his throat, "Would dinner suffice?"

Danny grins back, "I'll wrangle them here if I can."

The moment Bruce found out Danny had kids, something in his brain short-circuited. The knowledge alone was enough to make him reassess everything he thought he knew about his bodyguard, but hearing Danny talk about them? That was something else entirely.

Bruce had barely asked a question before Danny launched into a full-fledged monologue, his usual lazy grin stretching into something softer, brighter. Every word was laced with pride, every detail shared with the delight of a man who lived to brag about his kids.

In the span of two hours, Bruce learned more about Dante and Janelle Fenton than he knew about most people in his life.

Dante—the eldest—was a menace. An antisocial teenager with a violent streak that made Damian look like a well-adjusted honor student. Fights, trouble, a past full of missteps and regret. But Danny didn't speak about it with shame or frustration. No, he spoke with admiration, because Dante tried. He fought against his own nature, struggled to rein himself in, to be better for the people he loved.

"He’s a smart kid," Danny had said, his voice full of warmth. "Too smart. Built himself a motorcycle from scrap when he was sixteen—real Frankenstein's monster type of thing, but it runs better than my car."

Bruce had to physically stop himself from calling Jason right then and there, because if his second son found out a teenager had built the equivalent of the Batpod out of junk, he would never recover.

Then there was Janelle. Just as troublesome as her brother, but in an entirely different way. She wasn’t a fighter, at least not in the way Dante was. Her chaos was more... exploratory. She skipped class not out of defiance but because something else caught her interest. An adventurous child who saw a locked door and immediately wondered what was on the other side. A girl who thought parkour was a valid form of travel, who had given Danny a heart attack the first time he caught her flipping off rooftops like a circus performer—it reminded him of Dick when he was much younger.

"She stuck the landing, though," Danny had admitted, laughing. "I wanted to ground her forever, but I was also kinda impressed."

And the stars. Both of his kids loved the stars. Danny spoke of late-night stargazing like it was a sacred ritual, like tracing constellations in the night sky was an unbreakable bond between them. And despite the fact that Dante was technically an adult now, despite the fact that Janelle was a teenager with her own life and interests, Danny still spoke of them like they were his babies.

Bruce sat there and listened, absorbing every word. He asked questions because he wanted to know more, because watching Danny light up every time he got to talk about his kids was addicting.

It was attractive. Gods, it was attractive.

Danny Fenton loved his children unconditionally. Not just in the way he spoke of them but in the way he understood them. The way he knew them. There was no hesitance in his words, no uncertainty in their relationship. He knew their struggles, their strengths, their habits—he knew them in a way that made Bruce’s chest ache.

Because as much as he admired it, as much as he wanted to drown in the warmth of Danny’s love for his children, there was an ugly sliver of jealousy buried beneath it all.

Danny’s kids talked to him. They trusted him. There was no barrier, no invisible wall of hesitance between them.

Bruce had spent years trying to connect with his own children, trying to bridge the gaps that always seemed to widen no matter how hard he reached. He loved them with everything he had, but love alone had never been enough to stop them from pulling away.

Danny? Danny just had it. That easy, unquestionable bond. That foundation built on trust and understanding, not just duty or protection.

Bruce swallowed down the jealousy. He shoved it into the part of his mind where he buried all his regrets and let himself be smitten instead. Because damn it, responsible and loving fathers were attractive, and watching Danny Fenton light up over his kids was devastating.

Bruce isn’t surprised that after hearing Danny gush about his kids, he feels compelled—inspired, really—to introduce his own children to the Fentons properly. What does surprise him is how little convincing it takes to get his entire family to cooperate.

By the time he makes his decision, every single one of them is already waiting in the foyer, dressed, prepared, and standing with an air of near-military precision.

Bruce narrows his eyes, crossing his arms as he surveys them. "I wasn’t expecting compliance from any of you."

Damian, adjusting his hair in the reflection of a polished vase, merely scoffs. "Tt. You underestimate us, Father. We cannot afford to embarrass ourselves in front of Daniel’s family."

Jason, standing beside him, is… straightening his jacket? Running a hand through his hair like he's actually making an effort to look presentable? Damian barely spares him a glance before adding, "Todd, don’t mess this up. His eldest is the same age as you and Cassandra."

"Wouldn’t dream of it, demon brat," Jason grumbles, rolling his shoulders like he’s psyching himself up for a job interview.

Bruce is still processing this unusual display of readiness when Alfred arrives, a knowing, fond smile settling on his face as he takes in the scene.

"I must say," Alfred begins, hands clasped behind his back, "I am quite proud that none of you needed prompting. Daniel will appreciate the effort."

"You can count on us, Alfie!" Dick declares, beaming.

Steph and Tim follow up with matching thumbs-ups, their grins full of mischief but their intentions sincere.

"We'll be on our best behavior!"

Alfred simply nods, clearly amused but unwilling to acknowledge it aloud. "Very well—" Then a knock at the door interrupts, and his eyes flick toward the entrance. "Ah. It seems Daniel has arrived."

There’s a split second of calm before chaos erupts.

Bruce watches as his children all lunge for the door at once, elbowing, shoving, and stepping on each other’s feet in a desperate attempt to reach it first.

Alfred, with decades of experience in dealing with their nonsense, doesn’t bother reacting beyond stepping forward and opening the door himself. As soon as he does, he turns and pins the children with a look of utter disappointment.

The effect is immediate.

Every single one of them freezes mid-scramble, jerking upright like misbehaving students caught by a strict headmaster. With impressive speed, they fall into an eerily well-practiced formation, arranging themselves with the kind of poise that makes them indistinguishable from their usual gala appearances.

Bruce sighs. No. That won’t do.

Danny doesn’t do the whole stiff, overly formal thing. If they meet him like this, he’ll just laugh and call them out for it.

With a subtle wave of his hand, Bruce signals for them to adjust.

In an instant, their postures relax. Smiles become more natural—real rather than rehearsed. The atmosphere shifts from forced courtesy to genuine warmth.

Good.

Because if there’s one thing Bruce has learned, it’s that Danny Fenton can read through bullshit alarmingly well.

The first thing Bruce notices is that Danny isn’t in his usual suit. No high-collared, sharp-lined professionalism. Instead, he’s wearing something casual but still presentable—comfortable. It makes him look softer in a way Bruce rarely gets to see. More relaxed. More himself.

There’s a grin on his face, wide and easy, and a warmth in his eyes that Bruce has only ever seen in Alfred when the family finally gathers together after too long apart.

“Oh, you’re all here!” Danny laughs—laughs—and Bruce has to physically stop himself from reacting because—shit. That sounds good. No, not just good—amazing.

And then—

“My kids—Janelle, no! Do not chase after the turkey, and don’t pet Ace without permission! We are not kidnapping the dog—we have Cujo!"

Bruce barely has a moment to process that before Damian stiffens beside him, squaring his shoulders like he’s preparing to throw hands whoever is trying to steal their dog and turkey?

“Sorry,” Danny says sheepishly, stepping fully inside. “She likes dogs a little too much. Dante here is more of a cat person.”

Bruce doesn’t even have time to respond before Danny reaches back and pulls someone into the manor.

And—what the fuck?

For a split second, Bruce genuinely thinks Danny has somehow duplicated himself. But no. Not quite.

It’s another Fenton. Just younger. Scowlier. Broodier.

Dante Fenton is just as tall as his father, just as broad-shouldered and built. But where Danny is all easy grins and shameless affection, Dante is—well, Bruce can only describe it as Jason if he had a twin that was worse.

His arms are crossed, his expression set into a resting bitch face so perfectly executed that Bruce has seen lesser versions of it on Danny himself.

“This is my eldest, Dante—smile,” Danny practically hisses, pinching his son’s side.

Dante immediately hisses back like a feral animal, shooting his father a glare before half-assing the most reluctant, teeth-baring grimace Bruce has ever seen.

Bruce is so close to laughing.

But before he can even comment, there’s the sound of something small tearing across the yard, followed by—

“Ellie, come back here!”

Danny barely has time to sigh before bolting back outside, disappearing for only a second before returning—this time, dragging yet another Fenton into the house.

Bruce blinks. Another one.

This one’s smaller. Female. But still unmistakably a Fenton.

“This raccoon is Janelle,” Danny introduces, exasperated.

“I’m not a raccoon!” Janelle yells, pouting hard enough to make even Damian look impressed.

“You might as well be!” Danny huffs, already brushing off the dirt and grime clinging to her jeans, muttering to himself as he adjusts her hoodie and makes sure she’s not too disheveled. “Sorry,” he murmurs again, glancing up at Bruce like he’s worried he’s making a mess just by existing.

Bruce doesn’t even think before stepping forward, automatically ushering the Fentons further inside.

“No need,” he assures, as quickly and firmly as possible. “You’ve seen my kids, Danny. We have Steph.”

“Hey!”

Bruce barely registers Stephanie’s indignation because, frankly, he’s far too busy being weak over this whole situation.

Timothy Wayne-Drake has met a lot of people who love their parents. Some to a reasonable degree. Some to a concerning one. But he has never met anyone as downright possessive of their father as the Fenton siblings.

At first, he thought Dante and Janelle—sorry, Ellie—were just the skittish type. You know, new place, new people, a little wary of the freakin’ Waynes (which, fair). But, uh. No. That is not what’s happening here.

They are, quite literally, guarding Danny.

They don’t let him stay with Bruce for too long. They don’t let Danny play around with the rest of the Wayne kids unsupervised. There’s always one of them around. Always watching.

At first, it’s just funny. Like, ha-ha, protective kids, whatever. But then Tim starts realizing—

Dante and Ellie Fenton have instantly decided to be at least a little hostile to every single Wayne in the building.

Except Alfred. Because, obviously, everyone likes Alfred.

“So… Erm…” Duke, brave soul that he is, awkwardly tries to break the ice, clearly very aware of Ellie’s piercing blue eyes lasering into his soul. “I was just wondering why you two decided to move. I mean…”

“Oh, that’s simple!” Ellie laughs. Cute.

Then she grins. Not cute.

Sharp teeth. Way too sharp. Like her dad’s.

“Dad was away for too long. We didn’t like that.” Her grin widens. “And besides, Dad seems to be okay with staying in Gotham long term. Might as well move too.”

…Yeah, okay, that was definitely a threat.

There’s something in the way she says it. Something in the undertone.

Like she blames them. Like she’s implying they are the reason her father was gone for so long.

Tim resists the urge to raise his hands in surrender.

Meanwhile, Dante says nothing.

Which, honestly? Probably for the best. Ellie is friendly at least—sweet, in a way that would be reassuring if she didn’t just casually drop the most unsettling offhanded comments.

Dante, though? Dante is just vibing.

With Jason.

In the corner.

Where neither of them is speaking.

And Tim isn’t sure why that’s worse, but it is.

"Where are you guys staying at? Danny’s penthouse, or did you get a house?"

Steph plops into the seat beside Ellie, casually pulling out Uno—the game of friendship-ending grudges and betrayal.

"Jason crashed there once," she adds. "He still won’t tell us why."

Dante freezes. Stiffens visibly as he turns to Jason. His eyes narrow, analyzing. Jason immediately reacts in kind.

For a solid minute, neither of them says a word. Just—silent eye contact.

Then, like some kind of telepathic dude code agreement, Dante nods—approvingly.

Jason hums, looking pleased with that, and then just…turns back to the TV.

What the hell was that?

"Same place," Ellie huffs, like her brother didn’t just have a whole unspoken conversation with Jason. Then she perks up. "Oh, which one of you is in my year at Gotham Academy?"

Everyone, immediately and without hesitation, gestures to Damian.

"Demon Brat," Tim says, speaking for the masses.

Damian scowls, clutching Titus like the dog is his last anchor to sanity. Which, fair. Mostly because Ace—the traitor—has already defected, happily nestling into Ellie’s lap like she handcrafted him from scratch.

Ellie narrows her eyes at Damian, then grins. Wide. Too wide.

"Is that a katana?"

The room stills.

Every single person whips their head toward the katana Damian absolutely does not go anywhere without.

Then, hesitantly, they look back at Ellie.

Who has already stood up and is calmly approaching Damian like she isn’t about to start something.

"May I?" she asks, stretching a hand out.

Tim makes a mental note: this one is dangerous.

"Ellie," Dante finally speaks, voice flat but exasperated.

Damian snarls, holding the sword closer. "What makes you think I’d let you touch my blade?"

Oh, she’s smug now. That’s never good.

"I was in Japan for three months when I was twelve," she says, all nonchalant. "Met a lot of interesting people. Learned how to use and maintain katanas during that time."

Damian squints. "Prove it. How does one properly maintain a katana?"

Ellie tilts her head, almost like she’s insulted.

"You start with uchiko, obviously," she says. "Cotton ball, light taps, no rubbing. Clears out the old oil and dust. Then you use a nuguigami cloth—special cloth, not just any cloth—to wipe it down before reapplying the choji oil with an abura nugui cloth. Not too much. Just enough to coat. And for sharpening, you start with a low grit whetstone, move up gradually, and never—never—go for a high grit too early unless you want to ruin the whole edge."

She smirks. "That good enough for you?"

Damian stares.

Tim recognizes that stare. That’s the oh no, I accidentally respect this person stare.

Horrifying.

Bruce and Danny return just in time to witness what should be a nightmare scenario—Ellie handling Damian’s katana like it’s an extension of her own arm.

Damian, to the horror of everyone involved, is right next to her, calmly discussing proper forms and optimal grips like he wasn’t about to stab her five minutes ago.

Tim resists the urge to check if hell has frozen over. Give Constantine a call and everything.

Bruce, naturally, hones in on Danny with that same soft look he thinks no one notices. Gross. He clocks that shit immediately and blanches.

"Your daughter knows how to handle a katana?" Bruce asks, voice way too fond for what should be a concerned question.

Danny, like an absolute menace, doesn’t even blink. "Both of my kids like swords. Ellie just prefers the lighter and faster ones. Dante likes zweihanders and claymores." He waves a dismissive hand. Like this is normal dad talk and not insane assassin lore drop. "Never understood why you like heavy blades, though."

Dante, without missing a beat, defensively shoots back, "They just feel balanced in my hand, okay?"

Tim files that away under: Reasons to Stay on Dante’s Good Side.

Bruce, still doing the gross fond smile thing, tilts his head. "Did you teach them?"

Danny smirks. "I wish. Got a friend who trained me when I was younger. Dante pissed him off just to be taught, and Ellie followed by annoying him until he caved." He shakes his head, sighing like a put-upon father and not a man casually revealing that his kids harassed someone into giving them weapons training. "Least of the crazy shit they’ve done."

Tim immediately clocks the way Dick’s entire being lights up.

"Oh, do tell," Dick grins, leaning in.

Danny, like an absolute maniac, just shrugs and says, completely deadpan:

"Ellie once snuck out in the middle of the night, went missing for a week, and then I found her in Russia, fist-fighting an assassin just last year."

The room freezes.

Tim can physically hear the record scratch in his brain.

Danny, unbothered, continues, "Dante blew up my godfather’s car when he was about to open it."

Tim slowly turns his head toward the two Fenton siblings.

Who are grinning. The same grin. The same sharp, predatory flash of color in their definitely-not-normal blue eyes.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Tim knew Danny wasn’t human. That was accounted for.

Unfortunately, what wasn’t accounted for was the fact that Danny’s kids were also very much not human.

…He needs more caffeine for this.

[stars-obsession-pit]

“No, I don’t need to ‘move on’”

Danny is staying in a shitty, run-down apartment in Gotham with Sam and Tucker, having been forced to flee from Amity Park due to the GIW.

An apartment that happens to share a building with one of Jason’s safe houses (or some family he checks on fairly often, or etc). So while Jason may not be like, close friends with the trio, he does know that they exist.

Then a rogue attack takes the lives of Sam and Tucker, and Jason notices how badly Danny seems to be taking the loss. He catches glimpses through the window of the younger boy still setting three plates at the table, holding conversations with thin air, and even talking about the others in the present tense as if they were still around.

Jason’s no therapist, but he knows that level of denial can’t be healthy.

So he asks the other Bats for advice in how to get through to the kid. Gotham’s mental health resources may be… lacking, but there has to be something they can do to help Danny process his losses and recover.

…what Jason doesn’t know is that Danny doesn’t need to. Sam and Tucker did die, yes, but they very much aren’t gone. They’re ghosts. It’s just that most people—Jason included—can’t see ghosts outside of ectoplasm-rich areas unless they were born with the special ability to do so.

[captain-krow-drozdov]

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

[citricacidprince]

I noticed that their dynamics were so similar… what if they swapped for a bit

As a treat (For Swansea and Daisuke) and a punishment (For Stan and Soos, but also me, because that shit hurted)

Also, bonus doodle under the cut but be wary of Mouthwashing Spoilers!

[snaileer]

I’m a Size Medium, Thanks.

Danny is irritated. No actually he is beyond irritated. He is annoyed, he is frustrated, he is…. He’s really fricking irritated and can’t be bothered to remember any more of Jazz’s SAT words.

He continues his glare out the window as he searches for his straw with his mouth.

He just- where is it- thinks it’s a stupid fricking-stupid ass milkshake-he shouldn’t have to basically-gah! Danny snaps his head down to find his suddenly missing straw, only to successfully poke it directly into his eye.

“Ow! Fricken-“ He groans, throwing his head back, and putting his hands to his face, “Mother-tucker, Holy Taming of A Shrew!” He pounds his free hand not cradling his eye on the table, trying not to make more of a scene. Of course, this utterly fails because it immediately tips over his milkshake glass with a clatter as it spills onto his pants, making him jump up with enough force to knock the table over and drop the milkshake glass the rest of the way to the floor.

Danny stares at it with blurry vision and a watery eye. He sighs, “At least-“

The glass shatters.

Danny sighs again, deeper. “Of course.”

He looks up at the restaurant around him. Noticing the many, many people staring at him.

Wonderful.

Danny grimaces, “Sorry, I so didn’t mean for that to happen, uh-“ Danny reaches to straighten the table, fumbling for a second before it stands upright, he steps away from it, “If there’s any way I can help or.. like fix it. I can pay for the cup..” a server comes over to him, “if you want..?”

The server’s dead eyes don’t waver as they silently place a wet floor sign over the spilled milkshake.

“Thanks.”

“Uh huh.”

The server walks away, leaving Danny to sigh all on his own. He leans over to grab his backpack from the booth, checking it over for milkshake before slinging it on his back, thankfully clean.

He makes it one step forward before he feels the floor go out from under him. Ah gravity. His greatest enemy. This is karma for all those times he’s ignored it, isn’t it?

The wind is knocked out of him when his back slams to the floor, cushioned by the dulcet sounds of his bag crunching against broken glass.

He looks up at the wet floor sign.

The man on the yellow plastic mocks him.

Danny sighs.

He curses his stupid luck.

He curses this stupid city.

Then he curses himself because he knows any of this stupid city’s curses end up affecting him anyways.

Danny gets to his feet, ignoring the feeling of milkshake on his hands and his… everywhere.

He trudges out of the diner without looking back. At least he’d already paid for it.

He grimaces at the milkshake handprint on the door, trying to wipe it away with his shirt and only succeeding in making it worse.

Danny catches the eyes of the server inside, staring at him, eyes progressively more annoyed.

Danny puts his hands up in surrender and backs away.

Directly into a person. Only his milkshake covered self prevents him from being hit with anything more than the man’s scathing glare.

He puts his hands back up and moves away to dodge everybody else on the sidewalk. Along with the occasional ghost. Visible only to him of course.

By the time he has managed to escape the sidewalks into an alley, he is certain there is a trail of slightly sticky businessmen behind him.

Danny crouches to swing his backpack down in front of him and take stock. Okay, he could put his sweatshirt on over it… but it would also get ruined… damn it.

Danny looks around, checking every inch of the alley for cameras and then backing himself into a corner just to be safe. The flicker of intangibility is barely noticeable except for the wet squelch of milkshake remnants dropping to the alley floor. Lovely.

And of course, the flash of every single Gotham ghost in the area becoming visible and almost tangible for a split second. Also… lovely. There’s a couple startled shouts on the street.

Maybe an alleyway was not the best place for that.

Danny slides his sweatshirt on over his shirt to at least pretend like he was covering a mess and then shimmies out of the alley while trying to make as little contact with ghosts as possible.

He’s almost completely certain he looks crazy as all get out if the stare he gets from a passerby means anything.

Of course… now he’s left glaring across the street again.

He can feel the Infini-Map burning a hole in his backpack. It said this was the next place a natural portal would open and get him back home.

It just didn’t say… when that portal would open.

But of course, it’ll be right in the middle of somebody’s store. Usually not an issue. Except again, this stupid city’s curses are attracted to his energy, so of course the store couldn’t be literally ANYTHING ELSE!

Danny glares at the stupid fricking sign and the stupid predictable pun and the stupid neon hand in the front window waving at him.

‘The Claire Witch Project: psychic, medium, and Claire-voyant’

Danny is on day three of simultaneously avoiding the entire building while remaining close enough he can be there when the portal forms.

He is dirty, tired, and running out of money. In short, Danny is starting to lose hope on this endeavor.

The worst part?

He has the perfect solution.

There’s a pathetic little piece of printer paper taped to the inside of the window.

‘Help wanted’

When he’d first gotten here, Danny had followed the infini-map all the way to this horrific city, seen the sign, and turned a quick 180. He’d rather die again thanks.

He’d smacked into two billboards just coming into the city, and there was literally no stars, why would he want to stay here till the portal opened when he could just find another?

Except.. Danny’s eye twitches dangerously as he thinks back on it- except there wasn’t another portal. This was it. For the foreseeable future, he either caught this portal or was stranded for whoever knows how much longer.

Danny sighs again and dreads his continued existence. He looks both ways on the street, takes a step forward, nearly gets run over, steps back, and turns for the nearest crosswalk.

Fine. He could follow rules if it meant increasing his chances of leaving.

He tries to hold in the sigh this time, he really does, he swears.

Not the one before he opens the shop door though, that sigh deserved freedom from his trials. It joins the myriad of whispy translucent shades lingering in the store. Because of course there was just enough spiritual energy in here for them to be visible to him.

“Hey there!” A girl in loose fitting colorful clothing appears from behind a corner, “I’m Claire! How can I help your life journey today?” He can see the way her bulky crystal hair accessories sway with her movements. What was he getting into here again?

Danny tries to ignore the incense shoving itself up his nose as he speaks, “Hey, I was…” He was really doing this huh? “Hoping that the help wanted position is still available?”

The girl looks him over as she moves to the back of the checkout counter. The clear observation makes him nervous, and he takes his hands out of his pockets to try and look marginally more… candidate-able.

“You have experience?”

“Sure d-“ He wants to throw up in his own mouth, ancients this is so cringe, just let him die, “Sure do!” He says through choked back vomit and false cheer, “I’m a…” -barf- “I’m a medium.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, you don’t need a uniform, I don’t need your size silly!”

Danny blinks. What? Also. What?

“Wait-I’m hired?”

Claire pauses from getting something from under the counter, “Didn’t I already say that?”

“Uh…” Danny’s eyes dart around the shop, “No?”

“Oh well, you are, you have the right vibes, don’t worry,” she slides a few papers onto the glass counter, and Danny is abruptly, horrifically reminded he has no legal documents to speak of here. He thinks. He hasn’t actually checked.

Crap.

“Of course, most of my clients pay in cash, so I’ll pay you in cash too just to make it easier, and any crystal sales I’ll just add to it. Sound good?”

“Sure?” Oh no, is this gonna be Danny’s first real job? “But I don’t know anything about crystals. I have a goth friend but she’s not into that stuff.”

Claire waves his comment away, “Oh no worries, I can leave a packet.”

Danny nods, “Thank- wait, sorry. Leave?”

Claire laughs, pulling out a bag from behind her counter, “Yes I leave for a trip in two days. Family things you know,”

Danny feels like his brain is being scrambled, “Oh, what, what happened? Is everything okay?”

Claire looks at him, blinking wide, “What? Why would anything have happened?”

“Because… you said, you were leaving for-“

“Just don’t want to get caught in a bad position, you know how it is.”

Some of the shades stir in the air, their misty movements twitching with agitation enough to draw his eye for a second.

“Right. Well I’m glad I came when I did then,” Danny says, because he still doesn’t want to be rude.

Claire smiles at him.

Danny pats his hands against his sides awkwardly, trying not to look up at the movement of the shades intertwined with incense smoke at the ceiling.

There’s a little jingle behind him, which he belatedly realizes is the door when Claire moves to greet them before he can even turn around.

“Ms. Jives! Wonderful to see you! How’s the goldfish?”

Ms. Jives turns out to be a slightly older woman, maybe early seventies with a cane but she looks good. The coffee brown hair is almost certainly a dye job but it frames her wrinkled face well.

“Oh Jim is lovely dear, much better this way, I bought him a new plant just the other day, he just loves it.”

“Good, here for your reading right?”

“I am! But you can finish up with your customer first if you need,” Ms. Jives says. Claire waves her concern away.

“No need, this is Danny, I just hired him, he has a similar mystical connection.”

“Oh that’s lovely,” Ms. Jives says as she passes by him, “Would you like to come with dear? Claire is going to do a reading for me.”

Danny grimaces, “Sure.”

In the end, by the time Ms. Jives makes it slowly to the back room, Danny is trying to think of where he’s gonna sleep tonight. He mostly zones out when Claire dims the lights and starts talking nonsense.

All he heard was “something something card, something something magician something reversed something something balance something something chihuahua.”

Ok, maybe he wasn’t listening. But he was trying to focus on not staring at the movement of the shades, and the incense was mega strong and Claire had some weird ass music playing. He’s almost certain she’s faking everything. Down to the atrociously bright bead earrings.

Danny sags when she finishes, all too happy to leave the weird little curtain covered room.

He stands in the front awkwardly while Ms. Jives pays, twiddling with the various crystals and trying to figure which ones are actually y’know.. mystical or whatever.

Answer? Surprisingly most of them. That he could tell, at least, but it’s not like he actually knows how to sense that out on purpose. He’s pretty sure a couple of the heart shaped rose quartzes are complete duds but what does he care.

He’s thoroughly bored by the time Claire calls him back over. Apparently to tell him that he’ll do a reading tomorrow.

“Tomorrow?!” Danny blurts, “Don’t you want to like- I don’t know, make sure I can- or like.. I don’t know, but tomorrow?”

Claire just smiles at him, “I believe you can handle it, trust me.”

‘Trust you? Lady, I just met you and you’ve been nothing but crazy the whole time!’ Danny wants to say, instead, he keeps his mouth shut and nods with what he’s sure is fear in his eyes.

Then she’s pressing something into his hands and when he looks down it’s a key. A key. There’s no way-

“So be here 9am sharp, Danny! You can open up and I’ll come in later!” Claire starts pushing him towards the door, “And Mr. Wayne should be waiting for you when you get here!”

Danny turns around to catch himself in the doorframe, “Mr who will be what now!? Wait, Ms. Claire, Ma’am- why-!” He stops to lower his volume and ask politely, “Why am I doing this? You don’t even know me,” Danny says, one leg still in the store.

Claire smiles, “Because the universe told me to silly! See you tomorrow! Here’s my number!” Then she slaps a sticky note to his chest with enough finality that Danny takes a step back. The door closes with a click and ring of the bell inside.

Danny stares at the door with his eye twitching for at least a minute.

What the hell did ‘the universe told me to’ even mean, you kook!?

Danny sighs and looks down at the sticky note, quickly inputting the number in his phone before something happens to it.

He’s barely hit save when he finally steps away from the shop front and…. is immediately drenched to the bone.

Because apparently it’d been pouring rain and he simply hadn’t noticed from under the awning.

He watches as blue ink slides off the sticky note in little sad face streaks.

Danny sighs.

[blueflipflops]

Another short DP X DC prompt

Shared custody au and divorced energy Danny x Val with Ellie being a new member of yj and them meeting her parents seperately and together making different assumptions all together.

They thought Ellie is a child of a messy villian/hero union. Ellie doesn't correct this. Too busy laughing at the thought. The feral gremlin then FULLY leans to it. Calling hero Red Huntress mom and ghost menace Phantom dad then vaguely mentioning how hard it is when mom and dad fights. Doesn't help that they saw how Phantom and Red Huntress immediately drop their arguing whenever they think Ellie is looking and restarts fighting after sge turns her back.

D & V: *fighting, gun shots, explosions*

Ellie as Wraith: hey mom! Hey dad!

D&V: *drops fists and weapons* *smiles attentively* hi sweetie! How are you? Are those your friends? Are you having fun?

Ellie: Yeah! The yj is really fun little guys. Theyre nice!

D&V: oh thats nice sweetie!

Ellie: haha yeah *turns her back to YJ*

D&V: *immediately starts fighting again with even more gun shots, explosions*

Ellie to YJ: they're ok.

YJ: *seeing them fight behind her* what the fuck

When they had to summon the ghost king for help for something and Red Huntress stomped away and came back into the room angrily drawing a summoning circle with spray paint. She said the encantations before anyone can stop her and threw in her necklace with a ring on it. It glowed instantly and came the glorious intimidating ghost king.

Before Constantine could bullshit his way to a contract, Red Huntress aimed her plasma gun and shot at the king. JLD paled at that and tried to stop her but the king just instictively dodged.

"Valerie."

"Phantom."

"How is our Ellie doing?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, your highness."

*Cue divorced energy bickering*

What the fuck is going on with their vibes.

Meanwhile...

John: Wait, Phantom is the ghost king?!?! You married the ghost king?!?! Wraith is a realms princess?!?!

[we-ezer]

Tim doesn't think the new kid knows how. . . . sad he looks.

His long hair is limp and he's always brushing it over his eyes like it's a nervous tic. On the rare occasion they're visible, the blue color is entirely too watery and dark circles too pronounced to ignore. They're guaranteed to make you feel like you're watching a SPCA commercial complete with the "in the arms of an angel" soundtrack. It's even more unfair when Steph says the new kid gives him a run for his money.

"I don't look like that."

Steph scoffs, "Yes, you do. Just more unhinged than pathetic wet cat."

Tim decides either the new kid needs to get better or he needs to give up coffee and one of those things is not happening.

i.e. Danny is on the run from his parents and the GIW after his friends and sister were caught in the crossfire. After being on the run for a couple years, he decides it's safe enough to stop in Gotham to finish his schooling (under a fake name). He didn't count on being forcefully absorbed into a new friend group (something he very much tries to resist). It doesn't help that Gotham's rancid ectoplasm makes his temper flare when they get too pushy.

[karihighman]

One Chicago Crossover premieres Jan 29‼️🙌

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Not My Business

Danny Fenton develops a unique set of skills throughout his life. He knew how to disarm a bomb when he was seven, thanks to his Dad making minebombs in the front yard as a ghost defense. (They only covered humans in ecto-goo, but it was the same concept of not wanting to have it explode on him)

He knew how to fight with a bo-staff only because he had to fight off the meals his parents brought back to life with a broom. He knew how to balance a checkbook, file tax forms, and properly build credit by the time he was ten, thanks to the years his parents ran a business at the kitchen table.

His sister taught him how to charm rude customers with a smile, how to lie without flinching, and how to complete all his assignments on time, despite having only a few hours to do so. She spent a lot of time volunteering, often dragging him along, which allowed Danny to build up his resume with both soft and hard skills he likely would never have thought there was a name for.

Problem-solving, teamwork, communication, time management, adaptability, data analysis, cybersecurity, data entry, and copywriting were the skills that Jazz focused on the most. She all but beat them into his head.

Along with cooking, sewing, basic plumbing, basic mechanics, and budgeting. Jazz was the one who looked for practical abilities.

That left time for his mom and dad to teach him things like forging, combat training, reprogramming everyday objects into weaponry, defending his position before a board for grant money, turning everyday household liquids into knock-out gas, and how to talk his way out of traffic tickets.

Not to mention everything he learn as Phantom.

Danny knew how to verify jewels and gold due to the years spent in the ghost zone fighting off pirates and treasure hunters. Phantom's reputation made him a target for many ghosts who wanted to add his rarity to their collections.

How to command a room, then a town, and finally an army. Diplomatic missions increased in number as he began meeting with the leaders of various sectors within the Ghost Zones.

Really, Danny didn't make a whole lot of sense, if anyone bothered to ask him how he came to this set of skills. The thing was, unlike the rest of his family, Danny was far too reserved to show them off. He edged the line of shyness from a young age, which sometimes bled into reclusive tendencies.

He didn't get anxious from social interactions; he just didn't feel like seeking them out. Sam and Tucker felt a similar way, as they were always willing to talk to a stranger, but they tried to branch out of their safe little bubble to make friends rather than acquaintances. Then the summer between sophomore and junior year happened.

Sam, Danny, and Tucker left tenth grade as plain losers only to arrive in junior with a splash.

The trio noticed that people were staring at them more intensely than they had been before. That they were used to, what they weren't used to was that the stares were not mocking or dismissive.

It was odd, but it didn't click on why that was until winter break, and more specifically, Star's Holiday party.

Ever since the fourth grade, Star hosted the biggest party of their generation. Her parents owned the local fun center, which featured indoor kart racing, laser tag, arcade games, paintball, and virtual reality pods. Everyone tripped over themselves to be given an invitation as she offered a full day and night of free entertainment at the center.

It always ended with wild stories of teenage fun that Danny always wanted to see in person, rather than hearing about in the hallways the next day. Not that everyone in their grade went. The invitation list was super selective (Star's parents did lose a lot of profit for letting their daughter do that)

You either received an invitation from the party girl herself, or you were asked to be a plus one, which was just as much of an honor as it was a symbol of social status among the teenage population of Amity Park.

The trio was never invited, which is why they were already making their way to the student parking lot when Star stood in the courtyard, holding up the scarred envelopes. Inside them was the bracelet that one had to scan at the door of her center to let people in. It was how her father ensured only the agreed-upon guests stayed at that number.

In the middle of making plans for hot chocolate at Sam's favorite poetry slam cafe, Star had run at Tucker's car, practically falling over to knock on his window. Danny had never been so confused in his life as his friend rolled down his window to arch a brow at the girl.

She stuttered her way through a pathetic request for fashion advice that Tucker easily answered in two sentences. Sam snickered as Star seemed unsure what to do with Tucker's lack of interest in her or her popularity.

Ever since Tucker started focusing more on his self-confidence and joined the fashion community, he hadn't been so girl-crazy nor as desperate to get one's attention.

Just as Danny reminded Tucker that other cars were waiting for them to clear the road, Star had pushed three envelopes into the driver's hand and run off with a red face.

Tucker stared at the envelopes in his hands with a wild look that both Sam and Danny shared. They slowly kicked their brains back into gear when an angry honk from the car behind them sounded, and they ended up silently driving the cafe, still in a daze.

Jazz laughed herself silly when they rang her up to ask if she thought it was a trick (Sam was sure they were going to be Carrie-ed), a mistake (Danny insisted Star had gone to the wrong car, but due to the tinting, didn't realize until it was too late). Or a genuine invitation (Tcuker had always been the most optimistic of the three).

"Haven't you three ever wondered why Spectra used emotion-based ectoplasm for her appearance?" She giggled, "It makes people hot. And you guys literally spend all summer in the Ghost Zone during your internships, feeling human emotions while being exposed to natural ectoplasm. You three came back looking good."

That was a shock.

The summer apprenticeships had been a compromise between Sam and her parents. They were growing tired of her not growing out of her "phase" and were threatening to send her to a military camp to straighten her out.

Thankfully, Jazz had stepped in, brilliantly changing their minds into allowing the college student to match Sam up with a well-known friend as a mentor. She even threw Danny and Tucker into her "program" to further show that it was just what Sam needed to stop her from being a troubled teen.

Since only Maddie and Jack knew about Phantom, it took some effort among all of them to create fake websites and legitimate-looking summer programs before Sam, Tucker, and Danny arrived in the Ghost Zone in different vehicles to spend their summers. It helped that Ghostwriter owed them a favor, and he brought the programs to life.

Danny was learning medical practices of various species with Frostbite. Sam was with Princess Dorathea, learning how to govern and manage a large estate. Tucker had taken Wulf up on his offer to join him through the Ghost Zone's wildness, allowing Tucker to experience life off-screen and learn more about animals.

Jazz had said she placed them out of their comfort zones, but with trusted ghosts that could help them build well-rounded characters. At first, it wasn't for them, but the trio found themselves falling in love with their activities.

By the time they came back, they had many stories and exceptional skills to share with their parents. Sam's parents weren't happy she was still a goth, but they did appreciate her newfound determination to connect with them and her interest in running companies like the family business.

Tucker's parents were amazed by the muscles he gained and how he started to limit his screen time. He still loves his tech, but now he was branching out into fashion, helping out around the house, and appreciating animals and nature like never before.

Maddie and Jack watched as Danny grew more empathic while becoming more sure of what to do in stressful situations. Confidence that their son desperately needed had been gifted to him over the summer. He no longer lowered his eyes or slouched, even if his awkwardness lingered a bit.

That apparently made them hot? Yes, it did.

At Star's party, even though the three kept to themselves, laughing and hanging out as normal, people were constantly attempting to talk to them or simply flushing whenever they made eye contact. Danny, Sam, and Tucker all agreed that they no longer wanted to be popular.

They stay firmly behind unbreakable walls even as the party skyrocketed them to the same level of popularity as the A-listers (they refused to join the club). The three were more excited to return to their summer internships the following summer.

By the time graduation rolled around, Danny, Sam, and Tucker had been voted the most attractive and the most likely to succeed. They were a new type of untouchable royalty walking the halls of Casper High.

It came as no surprise that their resumes and internships got them offers from various colleges, not to mention their looks. Jazz, by that point, was still working on her degree at Gotham U, so the three chose to go there.

Danny was studying to become a doctor, Sam was in business, and Tucker chose computer sciences. They had moved into a house that Sam's parents bought for them, allowing Jazz to move out of the dorms into the spare room. Things were going great for a while, living in the big city and being adults on their own for the first time.

Then Danny applied for an internship at Martha Wayne Memorial Hospital in the administrative area- Sam convinced him it would be a good way to get a foot in the door when he applied to medical school. He needed someone to write him rec letters.- And one night, when he was working late on data entry, he happened to see Batman's maskless fall out of a portal produced by a trenchcoat man.

The trenchcoat man carried Batman to the abandoned operating room that had been left behind when they remodeled the place and converted it into offices, followed by the rest of the Bats. Their faces were covered entirely, but it did not hide their worry as they rushed to catch up with the pair.

A woman wearing scrubs pushed through the portal and the group of masked heroes, barking out orders to prepare the room.

There was a magic spell wrapped around the group that typically would have made them invisible, and erase their importance in the mind of whoever looked at them, as if they were from a forgotten dream. Still, Danny's ecto contamination made him immune to the spell, so he witnessed the whole thing.

Huh. Bruce Wayne was Batman. Neat.

Danny figured it wasn't his business and turned back to his two monitors to finish the Excel spreadsheet he was working on. He later left after saving his work, ignoring the fact that he now knew why the operating room had been left untouched, despite having all that technology on standby.

He would get home, mention it over a plate of reheated pizza, while Tucker would be working on an essay due at midnight. His best friend would shrug, claiming his own ectoplasim had made him immune to Poison Ivy's plants- they were shockingly similar to some of the plants Wulf and he encountered in the Ghost Zone- and had seen Red Robin's face after the man had been sprayed in the face and some of the powder lingered on his mask.

Apparently, Tucker's midnight essay writing had given him a familiar, dazed college look of exhaustion. Still, since he wasn't freaking out at the man eating plants, Red Robin had thought him too gone on whatever Posion Ivy how dosed the crowd of hostages with, to worry about his bare face. He had merely moved Tucker somewhere safe, stabbed him in the thigh with a needle, which had been rude according to Tucker, and run off to fight Ivy.

Red Robin was Tim Drake. Neat.

The two changed the subject to a TV show, but eventually Tucker had to focus on his essay, and they fell silent.

The following morning, Sam reported that she, too, had figured out a Gotham Hero's identity by accident. Her ectoplasim contamination had made her an attractive goth, who was approached by a blushing Damian Wayne to ask her to model her alternative style for his art club.

At the offer of a bit of pocket change, Sam had agreed to follow the art club president to a park where a group of teenagers were setting up canvases and easels. They asked her to sit on the park fountain for a few hours while they tried to capture her likeness in charcoal.

During the session, she noticed a change in Damian's movement as he grew more relaxed and his old habits began to shine through. Princess Dorathea had taught her the dangers of the court and how to notice little changes in body language that could keep her safe.

She thought it was odd that Damian moved like an assassin, reaching for a small knife in the same way he wielded his charcoal. It made sense later when she was rescued by Robin on her walk home from a would-be mugging and noticed the same little habits.

Robin was Damian Wayne. Neat.

If three of the many Bats were Waynes or connected to the famous family, it only logically makes sense that the rest were all Waynes too. Double neat.

The only one who was sincerely shocked by this reveal was Jazz, who had not even a hint of suspicion that Bruce Wayne was Batman.

"This is huge!" Jazz gasps, "Don't you guys realize how crazy this is!?"

"I mean, sure," Tucker slowly responded, sharing a confused glance with Sam and Danny. "But it's not really our business, is it? It's not like Danny is in the hero scene anymore."

"Well, yes but come on it's Batman!"

"I don't think Batman even cares about us, much less his Bruce persona. As someone from the bottom of the first class, trust me, the top of the first class doesn't even notice us taking up space. " Sam laughs, shaking her head. Danny hesitates to mention that Bruce Wayne has stopped by his office multiple times to bring coffee for all his coworkers, but figures the man must do that for all his employees.

Miles and miles away in Wayne Manor, Bruce narrows his eyes at the three screens displaying three newly graduated teens covered in paranormal residue. It's possible that they were all haunted and just didn't know it, which was a common thing, according to the Justice League Dark.

After some digging into their background, he found that companies, summer camps, and internships had all been fabricated by an incredible hacker who provided an oddly convincing cover-up for the various skills the trio possessed. Again, the Justice League Dark also stated that it was common, as that was a tactic the Otherworlders frequently used on humans to leech onto them.

Like a gas station in the middle of nowhere that was there and then it wasn't a few days later.

The three weren't experiencing any negative emotions, which meant whatever was haunting them would soon pass, and it wasn't necessary to intervene. Zatanna promised Bruce that everything was fine.

He had some doubts.

So far, the three have been doing everyday things that first-year college students typically do, and yet, Bruce's children have reported seeing the three often in their civilian lives.

Foley worked out at the same gym Dick did and was often at the ramen shop Jason just helped one of his friends open. Manson began spending time at Cass's favorite café and attended Duke's poetry nights as an observer. Fenton, the male one, was literally working a few floors below Tim.

A coincidence?

Or was it something nefarious at play?

Bruce decided to wait and see what happens.

[valentinafoxr]

Yeah, that's Chat Noir and Ladybug.

[thekitsunesiren]

I can't remember who started it, but this is based off of the post of both Danny and Tim Drake being mutually obsessive and possessive of each other.

So what if, while a ghost doesn't often talk or admit about their obsessions out loud, that doesn't stop others from learning them. Especially when they're so open about it.

Many of the ancients have obsessions that are obvious, but when their obsession is pointed out, there is a feeling of pride and satisfaction that others know what their obsession is. It is like confirming who they are and what they are and will be known for. It's very rare for a ghost not to have their obsession known in one shape or form. Whether it's their name, attire, or what they do on a daily basis. A mixture of all three and that spells trouble. Many are fine with their obsessions being known, but it's when you try to use it against them when it becomes a problem.

But what if they were obsessed with a person? Whether alive or dead, the feeling of obsession over the ecto could lead them to what most humans believe to be stalker like behavior. But for people from the ghost zone, it's perfectly normal.

Think of Johnny and Kitty. Together in the beginning and in the end, and no matter how many fights and break ups, they still return to each other. Because they are obsessed with each other in all meanings of the word. Sure, the love is there, but it just makes the obsession burn brighter. But if you didn't die together and you were obsessed with another ghost? It's very different as the obsession can turn down the ghost, which could either send the ghost spiraling or worse. Which is something that happens more often than not, leading to many fights and wars throughout thr ghost zone.

But a ghost obsessed with the living? An ecto being from the realms that feels all emotions falling for a mortal who can't feel the feelings? It can lead to disaster. Think of Vlad and Maddie: his obsession that has been rejected since even before his turning has lead him to a darker and darker whole.

Of course, over time Amity Park became like the ghost zone. Many of Amity Park's occupants becoming more comfortable or upfront with their talents, Hobbies, or possible love interests. When any of them are complimented or given any sort of positive reaction, there is always the look of pride on their faces when pointed out.

All of that just to build up to Danny becoming obsessive with his DC love Interest to the point they think he's stalking them (he is).

When they call them out on it, they say something like, "You act like you're obsessed with me." And to which they are shocked to see Danny grinning and jumping for joy as he screams, "I am!".

[radiance1]

The Justice League have a problem, one that needs some level of knowledge and expertise of a being from the Infinite Realms to give them a better chance of actually solving this problem.

However.

Every ghost they have summoned, without fail, took one look at Constantine. Squinted (yes, squinted). Then decided to go back to where they came without a word.

This. Would have been useful, nice even. If it was a situation where they needed the summoned being of a cult to head back to where they came without a fight.

But alas, that is not what is happening.

The Justice League, obviously, ask him why the ghosts keep fleeing back to their Realm at the sight of him, but Constantine can't answer because he genuinely has no idea why they keep leaving when getting a proper look at him.

So they keep trying and they do find some success in it. They summoned a boy, most likely older than he physically looks yet it still puts some of them off because of, well.

You know.

A boy with white hair and toxic green eyes. The boy stops short, as if not expecting to be randomly transported to somewhere else, takes a look around the room, then the Justice League. His eyes settle on one person.

Constantine, in particular.

He squints (Why do all of them squint? Nobody knows) and then a sudden looking of realization passes on his face. Different from the looks of vague fear and genuinely want to not involve themselves any further, his face held slight disgust and a heavy amount of disappointment.

Thankfully, he didn't leave immediately after that.

Constantine asks what's with the look on the ghost boy's face, the ghost boy in question squints even further. Stares at Constantine for a moment or two, buries his face in his hands and brings his knees to his hand and groans out.

"He could've done so much better."