#monster!danny

[ghostlyglimmer]

My personal take on Phantom. I love the idea of him being absolutely terrifying and in turn making it harder for amity park to trust his good intentions due to his gross visage. I like to think he looks like a charred corpse from being toasted in the Portal and of course lots of electric ectoplasm seeping through him. He hobbles around a bit stiffly when not in fighting monster mode. He’ll fly like a bat out of hell to clash with the ghosts that have not so good intentions, he prefers to attack first and ask questions later once he figures out if the entity is a boon or bane on Amity Park. And this does not help his case within the public eye.

Around fellow Amity Parkers, he tends to slouch and make himself smaller and to try and not scare the fellow residents. He also loves to be goofy and try to get the humans of Amity to like him. He just wants to be liked and loved for the sacrifices he makes for his home town (which are way too damn many)

In my version of this, no one knows he’s phantom (Which is the juiciest of AU’s i love me some existential crisis)

Anyway if you read this far I super duper appreciate it ;w; I just love taking Danny and transforming him into my little OC lmao. I might write up a story soon based on this version of him!

[corkinavoid]

Thank you, @aceinacorner, for this gem:

You are the inspiration for

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage [pt. 3]

[<- part 2 | part 4 ->]

Duke narrows his eyes.

He swears Tim was not in the Cave just five seconds ago, and yet, in the brief moment when Duke wasn't looking, he just materialized out of motherfucking aether. Smelling like Chinese food and holding a chicken skewer that looks so good that Duke's mouth waters.

"Can I have a piece?" He asks, the divine smell of food overriding the urge to ask 'where did you get it' or 'how did you get here'.

Tim nods, smiles, and hands Duke the whole skewer before going for the elevator.

Is it Duke's hallucination, or is he really humming something as he goes?.. Actually, that doesn't matter. The chicken tastes even better than it smells, and Duke is perfectly willing to keep his mouth shut in exchange for food.

You don't talk with your mouth full, after all.

~☆~

Cass watches Tim over the table. She hasn't heard him coming into the dinner room - no steps in the hall, no rustle of clothing or breathing. It's like the boy has somehow appeared right in front of the door out of nowhere before entering.

What's more, he seems obviously not hungry, picking at his food with an absent, if a bit dreamy, expression. Granted, Tim always picks at his food, but Cass can see the difference between 'Tim's mind is busy with a new case and therefore too distracted to eat' and 'Tim already had dinner elsewhere and is too full to eat now'.

The bags under his eyes are also not as dark as they usually are. Come to think of it, Cass hasn't seen him in a bad mood for a few weeks now, which shouldn't really be that strange, but it's Tim. The smallest of inconveniences can put him in a bad mood.

Tim notices her looking and raises an eyebrow.

Cass blinks and goes back to her plate. Whatever is keeping her brother happy, it deserves her full approval.

~☆~

Jason is... not so sure as to what is happening.

He did notice that Tim was really chill lately, but this is going a bit overboard.

"Did you spike it with arsenic, Replacement?" He asks, suspiciously looking the offered cup of coffee over without taking it. Tim - surprisingly, actually - doesn't react to the nickname in the slightest, instead giving Jason a deadpan look. Then, he brings the cup up to his mouth, takes a sip, and hands it back again.

Okay, well, that proves no arsenic, at least. It's still very weird. Tim doesn't just buy coffee for people, and he especially doesn't buy coffee for Jason.

"Am I going to owe you something for it, or what?" He asks, slowly reaching for the cup. Tim sighs.

"No. It's just a drink - my boyfriend loves it, and I think you'd like it as well," he explains with a shrug, and Jason is honestly too befuddled to ask about anything. Including the boyfriend part.

No, but since when does Timbers have a boyfriend? He sure hadn't mentioned anything about it to any of the others.

The drink turns out to be not coffee but something else, tangy and thick, and when Jason takes the lid off, it's green like Mountain Dew.

It does taste great, though, and later Jason considers asking Tim for another one. He hadn't had anything better in ages.

~☆~

Damian strikes through the last one of the training holograms, breathing heavily. And yet, just as the 'simulation complete' message pops up in the air, he hears a step behind him.

He turns around faster than a lightning, and-

Finds Timothy's neck at the tip of his katana, with his hands up in surrender.

"What are you doing here?" Damian sneers, lowering his weapon, and Tim swallows. Not because of surprise or fear, though, he clearly had some half chewed up food in his mouth.

"Inaccurate drop off," he says, looking Damian straight in the eyes, "I was aiming for the main floor."

He smells of Indian food and spices, and Damian almost sneezes.

"What do you mean 'aiming'?" He demands, but Drake just waves him off, heading towards the elevator up.

"No worries, I'll do better next time," he shoots a smile over his shoulder, "See you on patrol!" And with that, the elevator doors close after him, leaving Damian alone.

Drake has always been strange, but this is too much even for him.

Not that it's Damian's business. He huffs and starts the simulation over again.

~☆~

If Dick didn't witness it with his own two eyes, he would have never believed it. Alas, he did, and even though the swirling green vortex has already disappeared like it was never there, Tim, whom the strange portal just spat out on the floor of the Cave, is still here.

"What the fuck was that?" He nearly yells, and Tim looks up, a face of perfect innocence.

"What was what?" He returns the question, and Dick can't find the words to explain, so he just wildly gestures to the place where the portal has been less than five seconds ago. Tim blinks, "Oh, that. That was my date."

Dick chokes on his breath.

"Your date?" He parrots, hoarse and breathless, and Tim nods, like there's not a single thing wrong with anything that has just happened. "Since when do you go on dates? Wait, I thought you were engaged, you said it was cheating to date anyone else, even if you didn't know the spouse, you said-" he cuts himself off, feeling his own face slowly falling and his stomach sinking down in horror. "No. No, don't tell me."

But the shit-eating grin on Tim's face is already proof enough.

Dick clears his throat. Takes a deep breath.

Seeing that Tim is still in one piece, and, well, that he did just casually come out of a magic portal in the middle of the Cave, it's probably safe to say that it's not the first time.

And, judging by the mirth in Tim's grin, it's also safe to say he's been rather enjoying it.

Dick releases one long, loud breath and forces a smile on his face as well.

"So, how is it?" He asks, trying in vain to sound light-hearted, not suspicious. Tim's smile gets wider, and there's a glint of excitement in his eyes now, which Dick considers a good thing, all in all.

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask."

~☆~

Bonus Scene (that somehow turned out longer than I planned)

~☆~

"Where's Tim?" Bruce asks when all the rest of his kids are already seated around the table for breakfast.

"At Danny's, probably," Steph shrugs before digging into the waffles on her plate. Bruce frowns.

"Danny's?" He asks. He hasn't heard that name before. Is that a friend of Tim's?

"Drake's paramour," Damian clarifies, not bothering to look up from his own food, and Bruce's mind comes to a screeching halt. He blinks stupidly, looking around the table and sincerely hoping it is some sort of a prank, but Cass smiles and nods, and Dick has an expression of pure exhaustion on his face, and Duke is huffing a snort of laughter at him for it.

"Since when-" Bruce starts, but he is suddenly cut off by a glowing circle that appears just a few feet away from them all.

It grows quickly, morphing into a vortex, a green and ominous tear in reality big enough for a person to walk through, hanging in the air a few inches over the ground. The space around it feels staticky somehow, and the color is too bright to look at directly, and it definitely doesn't belong to their dining room. But before Bruce is able to say another word or do anything at all, Tim steps out of it, his hair and clothes ruffled.

"Oh, fuck," he mutters upon seeing them all, and turns around, sticking his head into the vortex just as it starts to close. The vortex pauses.

Bruce is almost too stunned to move.

His kids don't share the sentiment, though, most of them not paying the portal any attention at all. Bruce would have reprimanded them for the poor awareness of their surroundings if he didn't notice how Damian simply glanced up at it before going back to his food.

They saw the portal. They just didn't deem it dangerous. For some reason.

Tim's face comes back out, and he turns to Bruce. His expression looks different than before: a bit smug, a little mischievous, and just a tad bit nervous.

Then, another head pops up through the surface of the portal. A boy - or at least they look like a boy - with snow white hair that floats in the air and bright, almost neon blue eyes. His skin is far too pale for him to be human, and- he has freckles that look like constellations.

For some reason, that's the part that makes Bruce finally resign to the fact that this is just how his life is. With breakfasts interrupted by green portals and otherworldly boyfriends - because who else might it be, really - before he even had his morning coffee.

"Hi!" Said otherworldly boyfriend grins and waves his hand. "I'm Danny, Tim's fiance," he introduces himself, and Bruce conjures the last scraps of his scattered mind to smile and nod back.

"Good morning, Danny. I'm Bruce." He has no idea what else to say; it seems like a bit late for shovel talk, but a bit early for welcoming speech.

"Would Young Master Danny care to join us for breakfast?" Alfred's calm, but still slightly amused voice comes from the door. Bruce turns to look at the butler with a sense of exasperation - is he really the last one to learn anything in this house? - but the man seems... well, not surprised, at least not on the surface. But his grip on the pitcher of orange juice is just a little too tense for him to have been in the know all along.

Danny turns to him and smiles nicely - his teeth are also way too sharp for a human - before shaking his head, "No, sorry, I was just dropping Tim off."

"For God's sake," Tim rolls his eyes, "Just put on some pants and come out, I refuse to suffer through this alone."

Dick chokes on his toast. Steph gasps, her eyes snapping between Tim and Danny in delight. Cass snorts and kicks her under the table. Damian groans.

"Spare me from the details of your personal life, Drake. Need I remind you that I am thirteen," he narrows his eyes.

The constellations on Danny's cheeks shine just a bit brighter, and Bruce has no idea what that is supposed to mean, but his guess is along the lines of embarrassment. Especially when the boy completes it with rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You mean to tell me that, at thirteen years old, you don't know what sex is?" Tim deadpans, running a hand through his hair in a useless effort to smooth it and taking his seat at the table. Dick's coughing fit comes back with renewed force.

"We didn't-" Danny starts, still kind of hovering midway through the portal, but Damian pays him little attention.

"I do. Yet, I prefer my mind free of the knowledge when it applies to you."

"I want all the details, though," Steph pipes up, looking at Danny from her seat, "Can you, like, sprout tentacles or something, because I know for a fact Tim likes that kind of-"

"Steph!" Tim yells at her, face red, and then turns to Danny, who suddenly has a very interested, if a bit mischievous, look on his face, "Don't you dare."

"Yeah, okay," Danny snorts and disappears back in the portal. Bruce half-expects it to close after him, but the vortex stays.

Which probably means the boy - the King of Infinite Realms, Keeper of Unseen Worlds, Eyes of the Universe - is going to be right back.

After he puts on some pants, supposedly.

Bruce watches Tim rub his face in frustration while Steph giggles and elbows him in the side, and sighs. This is so not how he expected this morning to be.

[dcxdpdabbles]

12 year old Danny : Mom! Dad! You're not going to believe this! I made a new friend at Space Camp! He's super nice, he wants to be a doctor like his grandpa, he has a ton of older siblings, and he loves animals!

Maddie: That's wonderful, sweetie! Where is he? I would love to meet him before Parent weekend is over.

Danny: Over there! The really friendly looking one crawling out of the bushes. Hi Damian!

Damian:

Damian: Salutations Fenton. *crawling back into the forest*

Jack: Maddie, I think we need to sign Danny up for English tutoring. He obviously doesn't know the definition of friendly looking.

[cadelinhadomiranha]

Ghosts have to study too

[wonderwomanpleasesteponme]

Val wondering Gotham trying to enjoy her vacation visiting her family in the city: *notices Robin and a ghost arguing*

Val who has gotten better with her ghost hatred and is less 'shoot first ask questions later' when it comes to ghosts and really doesn't want to mess up time with family whom she hardly sees by fighting with one: not my monkeys not my circus.

Robin shouting loud enough for her liminal hearing to pick up: you don't want to kill me? Not after I took your place as both father and grandfather's heir? Don't take me for a fool ahki.

Val: huh Robin's brothers with that ghost.

Val: *looks more closely at the ghost Robin is arguing with realizing it's Phantom*

Val hurriedly putting on her suit to fly up there: MY MONKEY MY CIRCUS

[spookberry]

Canonically Danny would do anything a pretty girl asked him to do if she bat her eyes at him enough

(Previous)

[bluerosefox]

Eldritch Children

Hmmm

Wanna know would be a fun prompt.

So you know those stories where Danny goes all eldritch on a Gotham Rogue (mainly the Joker) after he attacks someone Danny cares for or him.

What if, instead of Danny, it's a deaged Ellie and/or Dan. What if Danny was hit by that one device that Vlad hit him with during that one DP episode where his powers were shut off for like 6 hours or something similar.

Basically Danny can't use his powers, he gets captured by a rogue, maybe it's being live broadcast or streamed, his tiny toddlers are there or while being babysat see the livestream/broadcast and decide to go save their 'Mama' from the 'baddy peoples'.

The Bats and Birds get there just in time to see a (or two) tiny toddlers demanding the 'baddy peoples' to give them their 'Mama' back or else. The Rogue laughs and says back like 'and how do you plan to make us?'

Then the child(ren) go full on (tiny) eldritch beast mode and takes everyone 'bad' out like it was nothing. (The cameras glitch out the moment they go eldritch so no one outside the room sees it happening)

Danny unties himself (he's been tied up so much he learned how to undo them even in his human side) or is untied and runs past the Bats/Birds ignoring them as they try stopping him and runs to his kid(s).

[savanir]

You shouldn't summon a Ghost King

Danny had felt the weird tug to the entirety of himself and instantly knew he was finally actually getting summoned for the first time. 

He'd winced through the whole process, knowing he should have listened to Clockwork and changed the requirements now that he was Ghost King... but even though Clockwork had seemed pretty serious about it, it just... kept slipping Danny's mind.  Listen, it's not that he didn't want to! executive dysfunction is a bitch alright, and it sounded like boring ghost paper work.

And it's been like... months now, maybe even a full year, maybe even longer. People don't really summon the Ghost King apparently, and Danny has been busy! He has school, he's trying really hard to get his grades back up. At some point he just completely forgot about it. 

He's really regretting not taking it as seriously as he probably should have now that he's randomly on top of a skyscraper in some massive city he doesn't recognise. And the city is... for a lack of better words, on fire. 

He can feel the suffering he can hear the screams, there is pain, chaos and fear all around him. Like a physical force pressing down on him.

The sickening part of it all is that he feels stronger than ever like someone injected him with 50 energy drinks directly into his veins but at the same time his stomach is recoiling violently, extreme jitters but not in a good way, absolutely nauseous. 

He's not really listening to whatever is going on directly around him on that roof, that's all far in the distance somehow, maybe he's disociating, maybe something else other ghost thing is going on, but Danny is just floating there in full king regalia. 

All he cares about it is snatching the weird creepy looking grimoire and getting some answers. 

And answers he gets because its very clearly stated in there that the Ghost King (Pariah Dark) wants a tribute to himself. Whomever deigns to summon him must prove willingness to his cause. Aka the whole conquering and genocide and tyranny thing. 

Over five hundred deaths would probably do but over a thousand was preferred, even more was obviously even better. That would show dedication and earn favour and- blah blah blah. 

Danny thinks he's going to throw up. 

It doesn't help that that's when the heroes show up and Danny is very clearly the big bad in this scenario even if it was completely unintentional.

Maybe they'll let him explain? Oh shit, that one looks so upset they're crying- maybe he can just go invisible instead...

This might be the worst night of his life. 

[astronnova]

ywlma tiktok would go crazy if you ask me (i hope you dont mind the ping @ectoplasmranch ;; !!)

[stars-obsession-pit]

Following an accident, Danny wakes up in Gotham City in a DC universe. Lacking any forms of ID or possessions beyond the clothes on his back, he’s forced to commit some crimes to survive. Minor crimes, but still.

And then he gets caught.

During the court proceedings, they come to the mistaken conclusion that he’s a Meta suffering from some psychiatric issues such as Cotard’s Syndrome (a real rare condition where a person holds the delusional belief that they’re dead/don’t exist/etc).

Thus, between his “need for mental treatment” and the concerns about housing someone with his unique physical traits, he is sentenced to spend time in Arkham Asylum. He’s under pretty low security aside from the anti-Meta stuff and has more freedoms than some other inmates, but it’s still not a great experience. Even at the best of times, Arkham is hardly a nice place.

Some of his fellow residents are decently chill all things considered, but lots very much aren’t.

[windybluebelles]

Horrific eldritch horror: I’m so sorry! It appears that we must get married due to reasons out of our control! I’m so sorry you have to be stuck with a monster like me for eternity ☹️

Jason- monster fucker -Todd: oh no! What a shame 😳😳😳😳🤭🤭🤭🤭

(he’s already picked out the names of their children)

[ghostlyglimmer]

Some more Phantom for you all! Been having a bit more headcanons for the angsty monster boy, and been writing a script for a the start of his horrific journey into his Amity Park hero arc. I’m so happy with his design aaaaghhhh

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Heritance

There's not much left for Tim in his parents' wills. Or, well, not much by his standards - the rest of the family, barring Bruce and Damian, think he is absolutely loaded and too full of himself to care. Which is maybe a little bit true; receiving about a dozen properties across the world, a trust fund and a wide collection of artifacts that his parents have accumulated through years of their archeological escapades is a lot by middle class standards.

But Tim knows how much money Drakes actually had, and a few old houses and an assembly of junk seems like not much in comparison.

In any case, it's all rather useless in Tim's position. He has no interest in traveling aside from when he has to for a mission, and he couldn't give less shits about archeology even if he tried. The trust fund is fine, he guesses, but it's not like he needs it, what with being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises and one of the Wayne Wards.

So, as morbid as it is, the best reaction he can muster at his inheritance is a shrug and a mention in his mile-long list of 'things I need to figure out when I have time'. Which basically means he'll maybe get to it when he's old and retired, and not any sooner, because Tim Drake the CEO and Red Robin the vigilante are both very, very busy people who never have time.

Naturally, his life has other plans, and it's only two or three months later that Tim finds himself breaking through the balcony window of his own apartment in Praha.

It's at that moment, when he's lying on top of a soft persian rug, surrounded by glass shards and wondering if this move was enough to lose his tail that he realizes his inheritance might be slightly more than just a few properties and some boxes with old things.

Because, through his own heavy breathing, he hears a thoughtful, slightly sarcastic voice from inside the room, "I guess the door was too hard to figure out for you, wasn't it."

He sits up, turning his head so sharply it almost snaps. His eyes immediately fall on a boy not much older than him, sitting with one leg thrown over the other on the dark red couch near the wall. He looks like he clearly belongs here: white, vintage collar shirt and black, high-waist trousers, a silver ring on his thumb that looks too old to have been bought in this century, dark raven hair and perfect porcelain skin.

And he is reading a newspaper. Like a slightly bleeding costumed guy in a domino mask breaking the window and falling onto the carpet is just another Tuesday.

Hold on, this is Tim's house! He double-checked the address, there's no mistake!

"Who are you?" He demands, frowning, as his hands reach to the birdarangs out of habit.

"Keeper of Doors," the boy answers, not looking up and flipping the page, "And you're the Drakes' heir, I assume."

Tim blinks. The response provides no actual answers, it only creates more questions. "What doors?" He asks because the rest of the points can most likely be addressed later. Like the issue of his busted secret identity, right.

The boy sighs and closes the newspaper, folding it in half and uncrossing his legs to sit a bit straighter. "Doors, capital 'D'. The ones that lead everywhere you want."

"The what?.." Tim repeats, dumbfounded and lost in this unexpected nonsense. The boy gives him a truly unimpressed look, his eyebrow twitching. Then, he stands up - Tim's fingers close around the birdarang again - and steps towards the nearest door, grabbing the handle. His feet make absolutely no sound.

"Drake manor," the boy announces and pushes the door open. He doesn't step through, however, instead just standing in the doorway and turning back to Tim, gesturing for him to look.

Tim does.

Seeing the familiar hall, the one he's seen so many times, the one he walked through every day before he moved out, makes him realize a few things at once. One, he needs to revise the list of houses he inherited since it looks like they are not just properties but a map of teleportation points, most likely. Two, his parents knew full well he didn't need the trust fund, it wasn't for him, it was probably for this boy, who may or may not be the, well, gatekeeper. Three, if the first part of his inheritance turned out to be this, he is going to need to call in Zatanna to sort through the collection of his parents' artifacts lest something turns out to be actually cursed in there.

Four, he's been staring at the boy and gaping like a fish for longer than its socially acceptable.

"...What's your name?" He asks, suddenly conscious about the fact he was kind of rude before. The boy snorts, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he closes the door back.

"Danny," he introduces and snaps his fingers. The glass shards around Tim move all at once, rising from the ground and going back towards the window, like a reversed video recording. A second later, the balcony window looks as good as new, not a crack in the glass. "And you?"

"Red Ro-" Tim starts, but then pauses. Fuck it, he might as well, "Tim."

Danny waves his hand in the air, like snatching something out of nowhere, and, just like that, there's a box that looks suspiciously like a first-aid kit in his hands.

"Nice to meet you, Tim. Now, get over here and stop ruining my carpet with your blood."

[dcxdpdabbles]

You know how walker (is that her name? I only saw clips of the show) Got DNA of batman from around Gotham. What if someone else did the same but instead of batman, they got DNA of dick, Jason and Tim to create the ultimate soldier with their best qualities and danny is the result. He had Dicks acrobatics, Jason's deadness and ruthlessness and Tim's smarts.( ・∀・)

The one thing that tied all three DNA donors was their role as Robin. Or so the government sector (with no name, in case they were ever exposed, so they could never be tied to the United States) thought that was all that was tying them together.

He was to have the First's acrobatics and his leadership.

The Second's sharp shooting and his ruthlessness.

The Third's hacking and smarts.

Everything that made those human vigilantes a force to fear would be poured into this clone. Hours and hours of combat, strategy, and American propaganda downloaded into his brain. The clone would be the perfect soldier, the perfect weapon.

None of them were expecting this.

"You will follow commands."

"Why?"

"You will be activated by the phrase The Shadow over the Flag"

"Why?"

"You are a weapon," Waller hissed at the clone who was staring at her evenly from the chair they had strapped him to.

"Why?" The darn thing repeated, tilting his head much like the bird his donors called themselves.

"You don't need to know why." She spat, nodding her head at one of the scientists. They took that as a sign to turn on the electricity, listening to the boy scream as it ran amok through his body. She counted to twelve before raising her hand to signal the electricity to end. "You are a weapon of the United States."

The clone gasps through his pain before raising his head and grinning at her. Almost as if he wasn't just about to pass out from the mental training they were attempting to put him through. "Why?"

Scowling, she turned away, throwing a command over her shoulder. "Break him."

The clone's voice yelled back. It's eerily cheerful, much like the first Robin had been whenever he attacked goons or the second Robin when he set a building on fire or even the third Robin when he outsmarted adults. "I'll catch up to you later. I'll catch up to everyone involved with my creation, and I'll teach you what happens when you attempt to make a living weapon."

She didn't care. Waller had been threatened her entire life by beings far stronger than the experiment they had created. She doubted that it could fine her or her team. It was a mystery where the clone had developed a personality—one that took nothing seriously and seemed almost happy in the chaos that brought it pain—but she had broken many people before.

One she helped create would be just as simple to break.

A week later, Waller found out that everyone in that unnamed government sector had been hunted down and killed by the clone that had escaped with none the wiser. She found out because it was waiting for her, wearing the wedding rings of those on her team and the badges of those who were unmarried.

Waller had found it sitting comfortably on her desk in her home office, flipping through her laptop and sending files to random emails.

"I wonder how many Americans are going to die with that information out." A wide, wicked grin rested on its lips as it released files and files of government secrets. She stood there, frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to say as it raised its head and stared her down with borrowed eyes. "I wonder how quickly the country you love so much will turn on you for a few files."

Waller responded by raising her gun and firing. But the clone bent in a way that spoke of the First, dodging the bullets with a gentle laugh. As if she wasn't trying to shoot it, but instead they were having a little pillow fight at a sleepover. Then, in the next second, her right hand was gone, nothing more than an explosion of blood.

Like a water spray bottle that had squirted out a stream.

She stared at it, more confused than in pain, watching the blood leak down her arm. The gun clattered against the ground as the Clone giggled. "Oopsie, mother had a little spill~!"

"Protocol Alpha-ten!" She shouted, twisting on her heel and running down the hall as her security system automatically started destroying files and locking down the building.

"Overright: Omega-four-four-three," A voice calmly called out. Her voice. Waller realized with horror that the clone was skipping after her, mimicking her speech so well that the security system halted all movement. It believed the clone.

But they had tested it against the Martians' shapeshifting. And not even taking her form could trick her system!

"Are we playing tag?" The clone called out, and suddenly, bam- her left leg from the knee down was gone. She stumbled, grabbing onto the wall, with a cry as the clone laughed more. "Am I it?"

"Protocol: Nine-Pitch Black!" She screams, praying the message gets out —if only as a warning to the rest of the world —but even before she finishes speaking, another voice overlaps hers.

"Override: White Fall five-nine-eight-twelve." The clone walked up behind her, kicking out her good knee. Waller tumbled to the ground, breathing heavily, trying to think through the pain. It crouched down to her fallen form, tsking. "Calling for help? From the Justice League? After all the grief you've given them? A new low even for you."

"What...what are you?" She gasps, watching his blue eyes shimmer to green and his teeth sharpen. The DNA was human, not even meta-human. None of the Bats were. So, how was this clone changing? Did someone on the team mess with its DNA strand when they were making it?

"Shhhh shhhhhh." The clone cooed, pressing his finger against her trembling lips as a terrible pressure filled the air. A chill broke across her body as frost slowly crept along the walls, and the lights burst one by one. The clone's glowing grin looked more and more haunting by the second.

"My dead Amanda Waller." It purred, leaning in and letting its human features melt away to reveal a monster. "You know what I am. All living things know what I am. They can't escape me."

"Death," The word feels punched out of her, and its green eyes seem to dance with amusement.

"Your death."

No one heard her scream, and no one noticed when she was silenced for good.

____________________________________________________________

Bruce Wayne gets a knock on his door at three in the morning just as the team is coming back from patrol. He wants to tell his kids to go get it, but everyone is half dead on their feet from the latest fight, so after getting out of his suit and throwing on his best bed robe, he makes the trek to the front door.

He doesn't even have to pretend to be exhausted. Bruce is getting up there in age, and hero work was a young man's job.

He rubs at his eyes while swinging the large front door open, a sarcastic remark on the tip of his tongue, but it dies the second he sees what's standing on his doorstep.

A child, the perfect blend of all his sons, that it was almost like he was looking at one of those holographic posters of his children's child school photos, beams up at him.

In his hands, dripping blood onto the steps of Wayne Manor, is the head of Amanda Waller, frozen in a permanent petrified scream for all eternity.

"Hi," the child chirps, eyes crinkling like Dick's, lips pulled into a half-smirk like Tim's, and nose scrunched up like Jason's. Bruce was struck dumb by how adorable he seemed despite more heads of unknown victims resting at his feet. "My name is Danny Phantom. I was told this was where my DNA came from, and that makes it my home, doesn't it? Do you like games?"

What none of the unnamed government sector workers knew was that the blood they collected around Gotham had been contaminated. It was filled with the curse that made even the gentlest souls mad.

And Danny Phantom had once been the gentlest being in the universe before his soul had been accidentally used in a cloning experiment. One that involved using the strange, unknown green goo as a link between three different DNAs, and now housed the very force of death, all cramped into the body of a five-year-old monster.

[damnwyverngems]

[lurkerdemon]

Random DP x DC Thought #9:

The fight was desperately going on against the villains near a newly located Lazarus Pit, but despite the heroes best efforts they couldn't prevent one of their own suffering a fatal injury.

Per usual desperation to avoid having to go through life with that loss, the dead person is placed into the Lazarus Pit for revival. (The cost of a bout of possible madness could be dealt with, and at the very least it would remove another one of the pits from the world).

Except this time when the revived person comes back out of the waters, the Lazarus Pit doesn't leave. Shrinks certainly, but still roils and churns before a large, glowing creature with white fur looms over all those gathered. Their blue cape flutters slightly as it floats up above the waters.

"Greetings, I am Frostbite of the Far Frozen. I have come to request-"

A head of white hair and glowing green eyes pops up from behind the being's shoulder.

"STOP THROWING SO MANY PATIENTS INTO PORTALS! YOU'RE STRESSING OUT THE YETIS!"