#ghost writer (danny phantom)

[arnab-factory]

What is this trope called?

(Ignore the missing word. Pls.)

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Put my Ghost Writer in his OG outfit. For mine I went for more dark academia/gothic vibes for the writer aesthetic and for the idea of GW being into horror literature like Edgar Allan Poe’s works🐦‍⬛

Danny-What was it like getting the pants and shoes on?

Ghost Writer-Not easy when you have cro-raven joints and feet.

What do u think? How would u want GW to look, I’d love to know?💖

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 ~

⟢ One-shot Danny Phantom — Genre: Angst / Hurt — TW: Emotional Distress — Rating: T — AU? — First Person’s POV

———————

There he was—there it was.

My reflection stared back, the green glow of my eyes erratic, flickering like a faulty lightbulb. I wasn’t just looking at myself—I was looking through myself, and I hated what I saw. Not just the face staring back, but the endless spiral behind it—pulling me deeper into some unknowable abyss.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the battle. That one battle. Not with a ghost, not with some lurking threat—but with myself.

The dark part of… me.

The part that had escaped.

Again.

I’d won, of course—I had to believe that. I was the good side of myself, wasn’t I?

The hero.

But winning didn’t feel like triumph. It felt like a delay. Some whispers of the future lingering behind me, leaning over my shoulders, suffocating me with their burden.

I was afraid of becoming him.

That dangerous, older me. That monstrous version of myself that had been waiting all along.

All the—what ifs—it claws at the edges of my thoughts, unraveling my already frayed mind.

What if I couldn’t stop it? What if I was already becoming that monster? What if it was inevitable?

I stared deeper into the mirror, my fists tightening until my nails bit into my palms through my white gloves. I thought about my family, my friends—the people who had always been there. I’d already pushed them away, hadn’t I?

Maybe they aren’t even my friends anymore. Maybe I don’t deserve them.

Sam and Tucker had gone to college, following their dreams like normal people. Jazz was too busy carving her own path to stay. And me? I had stayed behind in the crumbling town I couldn’t abandon, giving up my dream of going to space. Protecting people was my purpose now. At least, that’s what I told myself. But deep down, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

Was it a noble choice—or a coward’s excuse?

You could still go. You could leave. You could be an astronaut. Fly into space. Fulfill the dream. Your dream.

But it wouldn’t be the same. Nothing ever would.

I gritted my teeth, my reflection rippling in the glass like a warped painting.

Happy thoughts, I told myself. But they didn’t come. They never did anymore. It was always easier to sink into the darker ones, to let them drag myself down into the undertow.

The mocking voices of ghosts, the weight of battles fought and won—none of it mattered in the face of the gnawing feeling in my chest.

My core.

It purred softly, a dissonant hum, both comforting and sinister.

It felt… so freaking wrong.

As if it didn’t belong to me anymore. As if Phantom—him was bleeding into me, hollowing me out from the inside.

My breath hitched. My fingers trembled as I gripped the edges of the sink. My eyes clenched shut, but it didn’t block out the image of myself—the warped, flickering, monstrous reflection staring back. I felt like a glass that was about to shatter, cracks spidering across my soul.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

I punched my palms tighter until the pain jolted me back. But the ache in my chest was worse. Phantom wasn’t just part of me. Phantom was me.

My breath staggered in my throat—a sob trembling on the edge of release. My knuckles ached, my chest burned, and that pressure—that suffocating pressure—kept building on.

“Get out of my head!” I screamed, my voice raw, ripping through the suffocating silence.

The sound reverberated in the tiny room, crashing into the walls and returning to me like a ghostly echo. My reflection flickered again—glowing red of Phantom’s eyes overtaking my own for the briefest moment before fading back into green.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Leave me alone!” I shouted again, this time so forcefully that my throat hurt, as though I was tearing myself apart. The sound cracked into a wail—an uncontrollable, heart-shattering release.

Green tears left cold trails down my cheeks as I screamed again, and again, and again… until the room seemed to quake.

The mirror shattered.

Shards exploded outward, raining onto the counter, the floor, my arms. A jagged piece nicked my cheek, drawing a thin line of green that dripped down onto my trembling hand.

I didn’t care.

My reflection was gone—splintered into a thousand fractured pieces scattered at my feet.

My knees buckled, and I barely caught myself against the sink. My hands shivered, slipping on the porcelain.

I sank to the floor, my back pressed against the cold tile, knees pulled to my chest. My hands tangled in my snow-white hair as sobs wracked my body. Every shuddering breath felt like it might break me further.

The shards of glass caught the dim light, a kaleidoscope of chaos surrounding me, reflecting parts of me I couldn’t escape from.

I clutched my chest, my core still purring that discordant frequency—like a faint, mocking laugh echoing from deep within.

“I’m scared,” I whispered to—no one. My voice cracked. “I don’t want to become… him.”

My words dissolved into another sob as I curled tighter, the shattered mirror fragments glinting like stars against the dark void I felt, pulling me under.

“I will never turn into you.”

———————

Okay. First time I drew Dan. I was scared. Scared of those eyes. Those eyes that pierced the whole time into mine—no, through mine. I should’ve waited with his eyes until the end, but of course, I didn’t.

———————

⟢ You can find my Phan fics here.

[weepingwillows-sweethibiscustea]

I’m currently thinking about an AU where the Justice League confuse Danny for Jason.

Like, they know Batman’s second Robin met an unfortunate end, & now his newest partner is the ghost of an upbeat, scrawny, teenage boy.

Excuse them, for thinking the ghost being Batman’s dead son was more believable then Batman somehow having picked up not just another stray, but a dead one. How did he even do that?

Bonus points if Jason is very much so resurrected already, but none of the bats told the justice league because apparently Gotham’s newest crime lord, who’s 6’ whatever & built like a brick shithouse, isn’t obviously the same malnourished little kid that used to say “Robin gives me magic!” & literally died. Who knew?

[ecto-stone]

Danny: But ???You Wrote Fright Before Chrismas in ??? one Day ??? GW: That was a One shot ! I was running on Pure Hatred and Sprite!!

[satoshy12]

Isekai Fantasy

Bruce looked around. He had been told that this was where he would meet Dantael, the villain of this story. Well, he would later become the villain, if the books his children had told him were true.

He was the son of Bruce's new body as King of this place.

Dantael would talk to him privately about something and then the king would kick him out and Say no to what he wanted, that was the story.

That later he would start the civil war.

Dick and Jason told him that no one was sure what they were talking about because the book doesn't show it, just that the King and his family won against the evil brother and are heroes for it.

Well, Bruce should meet him face to face and find out the truth.

++

Danny was in a book again. He kind of loved this isekai fun that the ghostwriter sent him. To rewrite books he reads. And Danny loves to travel in the book universe. This time he even took Dani with him. And that was before the main fiasco in the books, and he was fully prepared to really go the warpath of the book. If this father King, who looks like a runt of his real father, Jack Fenton, says no.

++

Bruce wasn't sure how to start, but he did. "So you wanted to talk to me. What is it?"

Bruce didn't like talking like that, but he had to. He needs to play save with this villain.

Danny:" I don't ask for much, as I live alone in my town and guard that place. I just ask you to do me one favor".

Bruce hoped to finally get the favor that started the civil war:" What would it be? Is it to have my crown?"

Danny:" No! I have sired a child. I want you to legitimize your granddaughter".

Bruce was shocked. This is what the King refused to do and started the Civil War. It's that simple!…was the King even the good guy before he took over!

Bruce:" I am willing to do that, but I want to meet them first".

Danny was surprised. He was sure he would be told no:" I agree, if you want to meet her?"

Bruce:" How about a family party? Everyone can see it and no one can question it."

Danny smiled. Sure, I am okay with that. I will call Ellianor about it."

Afterward, Danny left to return. Bruce lost his smile and ran to his children. They seem to forget to talk about the whole story. And they should get ready to meet their new niece in this world.

[emacrow]

The cursed book of ensnared Love.

Raven was re-scouting in the hidden gem of a curse shop for a new book as she had been here before to find rare and exotic spell books along with purple candles that smell like Jasmine.

A cashier girl by the name of Sam with a purple and green line in her hair was bored looking.

There was a new display on set where a blue book with a blue ice looking marble encased in the chest art design of a sleeping ice prince in some type of ice cover.

a small green sign saying in purple cursive writing cursed book, please do not touch without gloves on the side, ask Cashier for more.

Raven took a good look at the cursed book, seeing the book holder stand it was on was completely frozen solid in hardening ice.

Raven went over to ask Sam the Cashier about the book, who flicked her purple eyes at her.

Sam draggingly walk around her counter and stand next to the display in a bored dead tone that most cashier working at 3am would sound like.

"Here we have the cursed book of Ensnared Love once belonging to a tragdy royalty known as the Icy Prince of Far frozen. Legend said that Antarctica and Artic were formed by this book once belonging to a Kindly Prince who had the ability to control ice, some say say he even control space itself."

"His kingdom was made of blue ice, yet not a single person froze in this snowy kingdom for as Long as The Ice Prince had his crown and his ring at hand, the cold will never bothered them anyways." Sam said with a twitch of a smile.

"A beloved prince that the people know will be a great king as his older sister denied the crown, but tragedy was foretold as the prince's advisors, elderly older then ancients wanted power believing the prince will bring ruin to the land but only the prince was too strong, foolish kind and witty to beat every impossible challenge put ahead."

"The advisors decision enough was enough as soon as the Ice Prince's 18th birthday was almost here, they had concocted one last plan to entrapped the Prince to take the crown using a forbidden book that can ensnare even the most powerful beings across the realms. They plan successed but not in the way they had thought as they had hoped."

"For the ice prince opened the book, wearing the crown and the ring, chains immediately grappled him, dragging him into the book by force, that not even his greatest most dangerous ice spell could break them. The book closed shut the moment the ice prince was fully trapped inside, only to be frozen shut in the very last spell the ice prince casted alongside its curse that the book could only open by love." Sam spoke a bit more down as she was reenacting the scene as if she had seen it herself.

"The Advisors didn't know what to do, but with the Ice Prince trapped, the cold became unbearable to the people, their very kingdom, became a death sentence as Nobody could withstand the fatal freezing cold anymore. The book couldn't be grabbed unless by solid white fur gloves or if you wished to turn into a solid status of blue ice."

"This accursed book has been passed down from collector to collector as being in it presence sent chills down your spine like a Ghost, it is not for sale unless it is a equal trade for a curse book to a cursed book by the current owner named Tuck'a'man." Sam finished speaking as she mumbled the last bit, walking back to the cashier.

Raven took one good long stare at the book and a memory flash of Malchior in her thought. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she thought about it.

....

...

..

.

Raven left the cursed shop, a floating bag in a shadow sphere followed behind her. A white book with a circle on the old display.

Sam counted to 100 before she smile brightly, bringing her cup of soda upward as she pressed the com in her hair pin.

"Operation hook up a prince phase 3 is a go, Jazz. Do you think this would work?" Sam said, sipping her soda a bit.

"If this doesn't work, then he stuck in that book until we go to the next dimension?"

"Yep, that the plan."

[necesito-mas-cafe]

More progress for Tetris!

They both were a real challenge. Even now I'm not convinced, but whatever.

[woodland-gremlin]

Ghostly Parents AU

An AU where Jason was ghost adopted after he died. His resurrection caused his ghost parent a lot of grief. First their kid was brought back to life, having to dig out of his own grave which is extremely traumatic. Second he was kidnapped by a bunch of cultists. Thirdly, said cultist dumped him in contaminated ectoplasm, giving his ecto-posioning. Fourthly they tried to brainwash him and generally treat him horribly. To say that Jason's parent was furious was putting it mildly.

Now depending on the ghostly parent the methods to get him back and how they raise him differ. There is plenty of ghost parents to choose from. There is Frostbite, who would probably just show up and ignore everyone while he treats Jason for ecto-posioning. Depending on who they were he might heal others. He would also do something to the pits just because of how dangerous they are, unknowingly single handily wrecking the League by doing so.

Fright Knight would probably challenge Ras for kidnapping his son/squire, sending him to the nightmare dimension.

Ghost Writer would force the whole League into a book of Jason's choosing forever.

Pandora would charge and seize the League, forcing them to face Amazon justice.

And that is just how they would bring him back, raising him is a totally different matter. Frostbite is pretty chill, ha, but would insist on teaching him the basics of first aide. This could lead Jason to becoming a Doctor that Alfred always wanted in the family because of how well it feeds into his protection obsession. This also leads Jason to meet "The Great One" the yetis always talk about. Whether he joins the yetis in their religion like in one of @long-live-astronerd-ghost-king 's post ( https://www.tumblr.com/long-live-astronerd-ghost-king/742150810600947712?source=share ) or tease Danny about it relentlessly is up to you.

With Fright Knight he would be a squire to him. Jason easily settles into this role because it reminds him of what he did with Batman. All he really did was trade one Dark Knight for another. Like "Afterlife" by batling_out_of_hell on Ao3. Training might kick up a notch because of the kidnapping though. This is also how he meets Danny. Since he is training under Fright Knight who is Danny's knight, this leads to some romance of a knight and his king.

Ghost Writer and Jason would get along like house on fire. They often spend their days writing and reading. Ghost Writer also is very supportive of Jason getting to finish his education. He is not so supportive of Jason's relationship with Danny. He doesn't say anything because of how happy Danny makes Jason but he certainly does not like it, at least at first.

With Pandora he originally had a small fan girl moment because she's related to Wonder Woman! He gets along great with the other Greeks, sparring and having philosophical debates. He meets Danny when he comes for his weekly tea time with Pandora, who later coos about how great they look together.

-

Writing of this AU:

Clipped Wings Pt. 1, Pt. 2

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

So for your Ghost Writer. Does he still use a special keyboard for his story powers?

Actually for my Ghost Writer, he uses a more classical approach🪶✍️

His powers lie in his feathers, or more so the special ecto that’s inside them, which he uses to write, unlocking the power within!✨🪶✍️

@thesoulspulse showed me this cool gif!

Basically he writes with his own quills and the ink is his own special ecto. And like quills, eventually the feathers would run out of juice so he’d need to use another feather 🪶

A way he could do it more modern is if he printed his words, adding his ecto into the printer as it’s ink. Though… GW losing it, trying to make the printer work-WHY! WONT! YOU! JUST! PRINT!!! Picture this in Will Arnett’s voice.

Later: Technus-Hello? Nicolai Technus, ghost master of all technology-oh hey GW what’s up?

GW-Hey Technus, any chance you can fix my printer please? I may have…

What happened to the Printer , warning swearing in the soundtrack.

Technus-Surpsingly you’re not the first to call me up on something like that. You know, u could probably also just add your ecto into a typewriter, might save you more time and money from….Office Spacing your printers in rage.

GW- Yeah that might be a better call, thanks for the suggestion.

[phantomwithbreakfast]

DANNYMAY DAY 09: Underground

Day 08 • Day 10

⟢ I was getting confused with this prompt. As—underground could mean so many things, depending on the context. But one idea kept clawing back into my brain—corpse AU. And oh, dude. I got way too hyped about it. Turns out, @ghostlyglimmer and I had the same deliciously dreadful idea! Go check out her hauntingly good work here! As for mine? Uhh, well—I turned Danny into uhh—something a little more post-mortem than usual (duhh). Think like—half-dead, half-ghost, full-on corpse aesthetic. Possessed corpse? Danny as a ghostly remnant that crawled his way out of his grave. (More under the cut)

Genre: Angst / Horror • TW/CW: Death — Memory Loss — Identity Loss — Emotional Distress • AU — OOC

Danny was dead. He just didn’t know.

His eyes snapped open to pitch black—thick, suffocating, endless. The silence was too loud.

Then—

A green eerie light. A flickering glow bloomed somewhere in the dark. Acidic light pushed into retinas that no longer needed to see, searing across nerves that shouldn’t be burning. He gasped, or… he tried to. But his lungs didn’t move. His heart didn’t beat. No air, no space. Just… cold.

There was nothing. No memory. No name. No life.

All he knew he was trapped.

I need to get out.

He reached upward, lifting his trembling hands—and they met something rough. Wooden. Dry. Pressed against his palms like a lid. A box. Too small, too tight.

A memory sliced through the fog—white light, searing heat and pain. A scream that never ended.

His.

“No,” he rasped, his voice cracked like brittle glass. “No, no—”

Panic shot through him. His fingers clawed upward again, splinters digging in—except… they didn’t. His hand passed through the lid. Not touching it. Just… slipping.

“The fuck…?”

His breathing quickened—but there was nothing to breath. His chest rose on instinct, not oxygen. There was no warmth, no blood. But something churned inside him, rising from deep within the center of his chest. Something icy. Wild. Terrified.

Realization crept in—this was a coffin. A grave. He was underground, sealed in silence and death.

Six feet under. Buried. Gone.

“I’m not—I’m not dead!”

His body shuddered. A jolt of agony ripped through his spine.

He screamed, and then—something changed.

His clothes tore into black and white in a blur of flickering energy. He didn’t feel it happen. He didn’t mean to. He just panicked—and something inside him answered.

He clawed his way upward, intangible, through dirt and soil and death. His body no longer felt like his own. Cold. Weightless. Wrong.

He burst out of the earth and soil with a gasp he couldn’t feel. And when he looked down at his hands—they weren’t the same. They were covered with white gloves, faintly glowing, trembling. His hair was pearl-white, catching the corner of his glowing green eyes.

And finally, he understood.

He was a ghost.

But he didn’t know who he’d been, didn’t know what he’d lost, didn’t know how he got here or why his bones felt weightless and hollow. Didn’t know what came next.

All he knew was that he’d died… and death hadn’t stuck.

They’d buried him alive—or so it felt. But no… he’d been dead. Truly dead. And now he was back—aware, conscious, no longer rotting in silence. No longer sleeping in that box meant to hold him forever. And now? He was alone, hollow, lost. With no memories, no name, and nothing but the weight of death clinging to his… skin, he had to piece together a life he couldn’t remember.

“I’m not… I’m not dead. I’m here. I’m still here. But I don’t feel anything. I don’t need to breathe—I don’t need oxygen. There’s nothing inside me. No heartbeat. No warmth. Just this… silence and… cold. I’m a ghost. I’m a fucking ghost. Fuck. No. Why? Why wouldn’t you just let me die? Why couldn’t you let me rest in peace?”

He swallowed hard, even though he didn’t need to.

“What do I remember? I remember… a flash—no, a blast—of… of white light, ripping through me. I remember the pain—so much pain—tearing through every nerve like… like fire. I don’t… that’s all. That’s all I have left. There’s… there’s nothing else.”

He grabbed his hair with both hands, pulling so hard like it might help him get his memories back. Confused… he was so confused. Panic consumed him again. He could still feel—but it was hollow, empty. Feeling devastated. Like remembering emotions he couldn’t place. The physical sensations were gone. No pain, no nerves. Just… nothing.

Or at least, that’s what he thought.

The only thing he felt was weightlessness. Like gravity had let go of him. Like the world no longer needed to hold him down.

He let go of his head, lowering his translucent arms as he slowly turned around. His eyes landed on the stone sticking out of the earth—the one he’d just crawled from.

There was a name carved into it.

“Daniel James Fenton.”

He stared. The letters made sense. He could read. So… not all of his memory was gone. But the name—it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t feel like his. He could still speak. That was something.

“The fuck is happening to me?”

His knees gave out. He sank to the ground, one hand sliding up to the gravestone. His gloved fingers traced the curved lettering with a kind of detached reverence.

“Was that… me?”

He asked himself. But no answer came. He sighed—a useless motion, but it came anyway. Muscle memory, maybe. A mimic of something human.

His fingers hovered over the name like it might spark something—some memory, some feeling. But there was nothing. Just letters. Just stone. Just silence.

“That… is me?”

He whispered again, quieter this time. But the wind didn’t answer either. He stared at the name like it belonged to someone else. Someone real. Someone who was loved, who laughed, who had a life. Someone human.

But that wasn’t him anymore.

Whoever Daniel James Fenton was… he’d been buried six feet under. And what clawed out of that grave wasn’t the same.

He sat back, knees sinking into the soil, the chill of death wrapping around him like a second skin. His white hair drifted in the still night air. His chest didn’t rise. His body didn’t ache. His heart didn’t beat.

But something deep inside him did hurt. And he didn’t even know why.

“I don’t… I don’t know who I am.”

He said, voice barely above the wind, like a broken echo. But the grave didn’t answer.

And neither did the boy… who once lived.

⟢ That second part wasn’t planned—it just came out of nowhere. And I really needed to stop myself before I ended up writing an entire phic about it, lol.

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[ecto-stone]

A Writer Muse

[satoshy12]

Green Arrow had a new child scientist villain. Who needs glasses?

Danny was already with the many Blob Ghosts working for him (think of them as Minions of Despicable Me). This new place is a super funny vacation place! He should think ghostwriter about it. True, his eyes were hurt by the portal, but that would be gone in a few years. But who cares about it? With just his genius and no powers as a human, he can show he is a genius! That was how Danny, without knowing it, became a wonderful child who was just having chaotic fun in the new world. It's like a game for him; it's not like he would have problems.

Batman has the Joker.

Superman has Lex Luthor.

Wonder Woman has the cheetah.

But Green Arrow! Green Arrow has a child scientist! with a tragic childhood who does musicals to explain his evil plans.

Just for the poor comedy and Oliver trying to hide it from the other heroes out of embarrassment. Of being defeated by a child and not being able to capture him. ++ Danny looked at Oliver Queen without his green Arrow mask. "An ordinary civilian with a goat?" Oliver saw as he put on his hood. Danny:"An ordinary civilian dressed up as a Green Arrow?" Oliver puts on the mask. Danny: "Ah! Green ARROW! " Green Arrow gave a tired sigh. Black Canary:" When we finally are able to capture him, The first thing we will do is send him to an ophthalmologist." Danny:" Since you are here, I wil tell you about my trash-inator!" Oliver:" So It creates trash." Danny:" NO! Man, are you evil? It collects all the trash in the whole city and teleports it away." Black Canary:" That is a pretty good indicator. You could do much goo..." Danny:" Yes, then into the Bat Cave all the trash of the Star city will go. I was paid by Red Hood to do that." Oliver:" NOO!!"

++ So because Oliver covered it up until now, Danny has now become a world-wide problem. Oliver really didn't want to say he lost a child or explain it. Danny with his Shrink Ray:" Tonight we steal the Legion of Doom HQ/The Hall of Justice!" All the Blob Ghost:" YAYY!"

And yes, Danny stole the Legion of Doom HQ/The Hall of Justice as both Heroes and Villian fought each other in a great battle.

That was the moment Oliver had to explain the problem that he had covered up.

[emacrow]

FIC IS OUT NOW On AO3 link down below thanks you.

Story name: Time Rewound and Space Unbound written by me/Emacrow

Link here

[bodybaggage]

The Angels’ Arrival (DP x DC)

HELP- my mind is stuck on that one Doctor Who episode.

Retired Clockwork who passed his position to Phantom AU

————

The world wasn’t prepared for the invasion. There were no flashing lights, no grand declarations of war, no screams. The Weeping Angels came silently, as they always did. Ancient statues with stone wings and cold, lifeless eyes, they appeared across the globe seemingly overnight. People vanished without a trace, entire towns became ghostly echoes of their former selves, and the League’s response teams were stretched thin.

Zatanna, Hawkman, and Green Arrow were the first to investigate a particularly worrisome case in a small Midwestern town. The town’s residents had simply… vanished. The Angels had come, and no one knew how to stop them. And the worst part? They fed on time energy—something that wasn’t in short supply in a universe full of time-travelers and temporal anomalies.

This wasn’t just an invasion—it was a feast.

Continuation