alzrite

[alzrite]

I've seen a lot of Danny being Ellie's dad but where is the Pariah Dark adopts this sassy ghost child that beat him in a duel and is now prince because why not adopt the overpowered child. Which leads to the JL fighting Danny for whatever reason and when he calls for help he calls his new dad and oh shit is that the Ghost King

Danny was with Sam and Tucker in the Ghost Zone when three seven-man squads of ghost knights found him. They had found an empty island near the portal that they had made into a makeshift training ground so he could safely practice his powers.

The most recent fights had shown him that he was only winning because of his quick thinking and adaptability that tricked his enemies, but he needed to get better if he ever wanted to prevent an incident like the ones at Axion labs from ever happening again.

He couldn't afford to create another arch-nemesis. Plus his good luck and clever mind could only get him so far if his body couldn't keep up.

He was in the middle of shooting the rays from the various drones Tucker set up when the knights landed on his island. Their metal clacking with each step they took, marching away from their skeleton winged horses.

At once, Danny flew between the ground, feeling more than seeing his friends scrambling for their weapons as he raised his fists.

"Who are you?" He demanded, watching the other squads surround them. Tucker and Sam spun around, each pressing up against his back in a makeshift triangle.

The hum of their ghost guns echoed through the air as the knights continued their marching until they had formed a circle around the three.

I don't like this. Danny thought felt his own ecto-ray heating up in his palms. They look oddly familiar. Where have I seen those armors?

The knights all, simultaneously, dropped to one knee, surprising the three teenagers. They bowed their heads, and even the winged horses followed suit,

"Prince Phantom." The one right in front of Danny said, "We have come as your formal escort to your Father's keep. He demands your presence."

"My Dad?" Danny repeats, voiced, laced with doubt. , "My Dad sent ghosts to escort me home? Do I look stupid to you?"

"It is not your sire, Jack Fenton, I speak of," The Knight explains, voice still respectful even when staring at the ground. Danny can't see his eyes or any of the other knights, as they are hidden in the shadows of their helmets. "I speak of the Ghost King, Pariah Dark, who has chosen you are his Heir. You are summoned to complete the adoption process."

"Yeah, that's going to be a no from me." Danny deadpans, even if his insides have turned to ice. Pariah Dark was resealed, Danny personally made sure of that, so why was this guy speaking as if he was back?

"Apologies, my Prince, but you do not have a choice," declares the other, and almost as if that was a cue of some kind, the other knights rise from their knees. They descend on the trio faster than Danny was expecting.

He ducks and waves as three different fists fly to his face, reaching down to aim an uppercut at the one on his right. It lands with a clack and a sting in his knuckles as the helmets odd shape as some protection to the chin

Shaking out his hand, Danny is not prepared for the kick to his side that sends him flying.

He lands in a heap but is quick to get back to his feet as rope is lassoed around one of his wrists. He gapes at it as another knight, quickly throws on to his other arms and suddenly he's being tugged in two different directions.

Summoning his ice, Danny has it travel down the ropes towards the knights, who drop it just as the ice would have encased their hands. Freed, Danny, leaps back as a flying kick paces mere inches from his face and has to quickly raise his hands to block an ecto-ray to the chest.

"Do not harm the Prince!" The leader barks "Capture the humans, he will go willingly if we have hostages!"

Danny swings his head towards Sam and Tucker, who have been forced up against a wall, shooting desperately at the advancing knights. Their shots are being knocked away by flowing swords, and it was obvious their movements were slowing down.

Despite the many fights they have helped in a fight, neither Sam or Tucker could outlast a ghost. Their stamina was superior, and sadly, it seemed these particular ghosts also had training under their belts.

"No!" Danny moved to help but just as he turned his eyes away from the Knight Leader, a bubble of ectoplasm exploded in his face.

"I told you not to harm the Prince!" Someone roars over the sound of ringing in his ears. Hands fell on all his limbs holding him down, even if he weakly tried to shake them off. Everything is spinning, though, and his vision is blurring in and out of focus. He sees Sam fall to the ground with Tucker screaming something he can't make out before Danny is left up and dragged away.

There is a weight around his wrists and ankles, indicating he's been tied up, but Danny can barely keep his head from bobbing to the side. He had no energy to attempt to break his bonds.

He knew no more as he was thrown into a carriage, the block dots in his vision taking over completely.

Three years later, Danny is overlooking the development of a ghost colony in a far-off corner of King Pariah's empire. This colony was made entirely of former slaves whom Danny fought his adoptive father tooth and nail to free.

Pariah moods were odd. He controlled everything Danny did, but he also wanted Danny to take his own stances on how the empire should be run. The Ghost King's control had expanded to nearly all corners of the Ghost Zone, breaking and tearing apart any resistance they found.

War had broken out as ghosts from various tribes and kingdoms fought desperately to keep their freedom. Pariah saw no challenge in their attempts, crushing anyone that stood in his way.

His aim was to once again rule all over the dead, and later, once every ghost bowed to his whim, invade the living world again but this time there would be no Halfa child to stop him.

Said Halfa that was now heir of the tyrant. Everyone knew about the kidnapped Prince, as his tale was told in resistance meetings both in pity and in rage.

Prince Phantom's iconic white hair and green eyes were just as widely known as his golden collar was. It was created by King Pariah, to keep the prince in the area by an invisible fence he set up. Should Prince Phantom attempt to fly or walk out of those areas, the collar would turn into flaming chains, yanking the prince back. It wouldn't burn him, thankfully, but it would drag him roughly.

It didn't help that the collar stopped Prince Phantom from accessing his powers. It was almost like he was a full human, except he was trapped in his ghost form and in the Ghost Zone, which meant his options were far more limited than normal.

He was more of a royal hostage than an actual heir.

Even out here, while overlooking reports and listening to testimonies, Prince Phantom could not leave the tower of the newest colony. At all times there was two guards that followed him and limited his movements too.

Despite his position, the Prince did everything he could to protect the people, tales of him jumping to a servant's defense against his father, advocating for the abolishment of slavery, and even offering to serve any punishment for any ghost child. The people loved their prince, and all wanted to one day see him free as well.

Rumors had it that the leaders of the main resistance were two humans who were desperately trying to free Prince Phantom, but since everyone in the rebellion's army's identity remained secret, no one knew how true those rumors were.

Danny unrolls a scroll, sighing at the numbers. "If nothing is done about the harvest, the people will starve come winter. We need to start rationing. Take whatever you need from my own supplies before we start applying it to the people."

"My Prince, we couldn't possibly ask that of you. Already, you granted us freedom and a home. ," Started the mayor of the colony, only to stop at the sight of a large magical circle forming around the prince. Danny's eyes widened as well, feeling his collar start to glow as whatever it is attempt to yank him away.

He feels it start to crack as the magic overpowers the collar's settings. Hope flares in his heart as his guards leap to their feet. Before they can so much as come near him, the mayor throws himself at them with a roar. "Run, my Prince! I shall buy you time!"

Danny is swallowed by light before he can respond, the collar left behind to clatter against the floor. He is flung through a portal made of multiple colors, so bright and blinding he has to close his eyes and hold his hands in front of his face. He lands with a startled yelp, but his hands fling to his neck.

When all he feels is flesh, tears burn his eyes sight as he sobs. He's free. He's finally free.

"Well, this isn't what I was expecting when I offered a piece of my soul" An accented voice hums, drawing attention to a group of oddly dressed strangers. A man in a trench coat lights a cigar, the glow casting his face in a dim light as he stares down at Danny with a detached appraisal glint in his eyes. "Tell me, why did my spell bring me a child when I asked for a champion to overthrow the Ghost King?"

Danny's ice core starts to slowly freeze the room over, his breath visible as his eyes harden. "It brought me here because I am going to kill my father."

"Prince Phantom" Trench coat man identifies with some relief. "A pleasure to finally meet you. This is the Justice League and they like to lend a hand in your parricide."

[alzrite]

More mr. Flavor please 🙏

Danny gets to his motel, finding it occupied. It's the same man that got him a deal with Anthony's Pasta. He's lodging on Danny's bed, one foot hanging off while the other pressed into the sheet. He's using the headboard as a backrest looking rather comfortable for someone of his size in a twin bed.

There is a book resting on his knee, the cover out of sight, but it's the placement of his one hand holding it open that lets Danny know this man is a very avid reader. Only someone who's spent hours holding books knows how to rest the crease in between their fingers to keep the pages open but not bend the cover.

It's odd how comfortable he looks within Danny's space. Especially after the last few days, that would one day be a very funny story to tell.

He feels like he could laugh about it in a few minutes even. Were it not for the stranger ruining the zen of his motel room.

Danny stops in his doorway, the last few scatts slowly fading away as the man gives him a glance and then does a double take.

Despite the fact, that there is a mask covering his face and his red hood is pulled over his head, Danny can tell by the way his brows crease that he's making a genuine, confused expression under all that mystery.

"What in the world are you wearing?" He asks after a beat of silence.

Danny spreads his arms, making sure to let his fake fur whip dramatically as he declares "My truth!"

There is a long pause of silence before the man carefully closes his book, sliding into his leather jacket and rising. "I noticed that you disappeared for a few days. Where did you go?"

It's a bit disappointing that he moved right along. Danny was sort of looking forward to having to explain why his outfit was put together. He lets his arms drop with a slight pout as he scurries to his soda lab.

The day Oscar had him adducted Danny had just bought some new soda flavoring syrup, with the intent to actually experiment and create his own flavor. It was fun to borrow some from his home, but he was a Fenton, experimenting was in his blood.

He wanted to make something fruity, like raspberries, and left a combination to rest for two days as a natural ferment.

He feels the eyes of the stranger burning into his back, and usually, that would have meant he would be powering up an ecto-ray but sadly that was out of reach.

"I was kidnapped." Danny declares sniffing a few of the bottles he set out, attempting to figure out their state from scent alone. "Got ran over. Woke up in a hospital. You know, a regular Tuesday. Is today Tuesday? It feels like a Tuesday."

There is an even longer pause this time, where the air has suddenly taken a very somber air before the man speaks again. His voice modulator does a decent job of hiding his emotions but Danny can pick up the regret and frustration that slips through the autotone. "I'm sorry you went through that."

"Meh." Danny waves a hand over his shoulder as if it would wave away all the bad. "The worst part was that someone likely saw my soda formula. The rest wasn't so bad."

The man steps next to Danny watching him work in silence. Danny isn't entirely sure what he's after, now that he's seen that Danny was fine, but he's not about to be a gracious host. The stranger broke into his room- again- and that meant Danny was free from the manners his parents had beaten into his head.

He was still a little upset about all his stuff being smashed because of an assumption. Even if he did sort of make up for it with all the stuff he proved afterward as an apology.

He would not be offering to take his coat, thank you very much.

The first vile of his experimental sodas was unsalvageable, tasting rather disgusting when he took some sips. In fact, it was so disgusting he almost choked on his gag, twitching in place from the nauseating liquid he nearly hit the table.

The man moves like he's about to touch Danny but thinks better of it at the last second as the Halfa- or the human one that can't access his powers- coughs aggressively, gagging more.

Eventually, he gets his body under control so he can gasp out "Needs less buffalo, more wings flavor. Write this down. Write this down. Notes. Where are my notes?"

Danny has to turn over a few papers and scattered test tubs- he's never been the best at keeping his working area orderly which drove his Mother up a wall. Jack and Danny shared the same belief that if his stuff was a mess it was a mess he knew- until he came upon his clickboard.

He has to crouch under the table to find a purple ink pen- as all his notes are color-coded and changing the ink would make everything invalid- so he could mark it next to the experiments, Taste like Lord of the Flies.

He taps the pen against his lower lip before he adds Find out how to harness the power of spicy buffalo. He nods at it and reaches for a second test tube.

The man at his side clears his throat. "Did you seriously try to make a Buffalo Wings flavor Soda?"

"Yeah, it's my favorite food so I figured I could make it my favorite drink too," Danny mutters sniffing a new tube, and taking a full swing before he can convince himself to put it back down. He figured that if he attempted to do small sips, he would chicken out and not actually taste the soda, so it was better to down it all in one go.

At once his gag returns, making him recoil away from his clipboard. "Burger flavor is yunk. Hmmm. Interesting."

He writes some more notes while blinking tears out of his eyes. His stomach is turning in knots, as he scrambles some ideas of improving the flavor. Once done he reaches for another test tub- this one Pizza flavor- before the Hoodie smacks his hand away.

"Kid, you look like you're going to be sick"

Danny stares at where the man touched him, feeling a sense of confusion at the audacity to get in the way of science before he slowly turns his head towards the stranger. He feels his stomach flip ominously as the man raises a brow.

"Can we go back to your kidnapping? I can make the person pay-"

Danny holds up his in an indication of a hug which has the man coming to a full stop. He can see his reflection in the lens of Hoddie, and even though it's slightly spread like a fish eye camera lens, he can certainly say he looks slightly unhinged.

It's a few seconds of staring before the Hoddie, cautiously steps closer, telegraphing his movements as he brings Danny into an awkward hug. Once he's assured he's pressed against the man as much as possible Danny opens his mouth and lets his stomach release all the disgust.

"Ugh!" The man pushes him away, staring down at the vomit that decorates his front as Danny sways on his feet. He carefully blinks the tears clear out of his sight while picking up his clipboard.

"Warning: New flavors put up a fight. Ensure safe six feet distance from others." Danny nods at his own written words. He rips it off the paper, grabs some scotch tap with the other, and slaps the label on his two test tubes.

He then picks up five test tubes at once while declaring "Can multiple flavors cause death by poison? Let's find out!"

"No!"

He's tackled just as he is tilting the test tubs back to spill into his mouth. He screams, attempting to call upon his Ghostly Wail but all he ends up doing is sounding like a squealing piglet as the man uses his own fur coat as a makeshift restrain jacket.

"Kid, just stick to your usual flavors!"

"No! I want to see sounds! I want to taste colors! I want to touch smells!" Danny screeched as he was dragged away from his lab. "Release me!"

"Why do I always get the craziest smart kids" Hoddies sighs before he is flung over a muscular shoulder and the stranger walks out of Danny's room as the boy continues to screech. "Look kid, obviously you're not safe here. I'm going to move you to one of my hideouts and I'll bring you a better lab. Just stop trying to poison yourself."

"Release me!"

"No."

The receptionist crosses herself as they pass her desk and Danny stops thrashing to offer her a bright close-lipped smile- because he was raised with manners to people who earn it- and then goes back to impersonating a landbound fish, making more screeches that leave even Danny's ears ringing.

"The sodas! The sodas yearn for my brilliance!"

"Sure kid."

Neither is around when Nightwing crashes through the boy's window but that receptionist is, and she puts in her two weeks the second she hears him arrive.

[alzrite]

Do you have any plans to continue https://www.tumblr.com/dcxdpdabbles/758079736394170368/dcxdp-fanfic-idea-lights-and-camera?source=share ?

It's just so good!

Tim was in the fetal position in the corner of his closet. The rest of his team was trying to coax him out with various offerings- Kon held up soda, Cassie had steaming brownies, and Bart was waving around comics- but nothing seemed to be enough to get Tim to crawl out of his hiding place.

Dick watched form the bedroom doorway, wondering if the Young Justice team were able to handle another one of Tim's meltdowns. He figured he would give them the benefit of the doubt and let them handle things until he needed to step in.

"Psh psh psh" Kon coos, croching just outside the open doorway of he closet. "Here, Timmy, Timmy, come on out, buddy. Psh psh psh"

"He's not a cat, Kon!" Cassie sighs before she lowers her voice in a sharp command while snapping her fingers. "Timothy. Come! Now, boy, come here!"

"Treating him like a dog isn't going to work either, Cassie." Bart laughs, looking far too amused to be leaning over the heavy hitters of his team.

Dick wasn't entirely sure what Tim had said to the Ghost King but whatever he said was bad enough that he had ran straight to his room and thrown himself dramatically in the closet with a wail. It's a strange habit he's had since he was young.

Once Dick witnissed Tim hide inside his closet for missing a step at WE and rolling down the stairs. Instead of being mad that he broke his leg, Tim was more horrified that the people in the lobby had watched him fall.

If Kryptonite was enough to stop Superman, Public Embarrassment was enough to stop Red Robin.

"I can never be seen by mortal eyes again!" Tim wails, hand reaching out to snatch the brownies from Cassie's hands. His following words were muffled somewhat by the treat he attempted to eat in one bite. "I told the prettiest boy to ever walk the Earth that I wanted to get him out of his pants for the right price and he thinks I called him a whore when I meant I wanted to buy his pants!"

"Just tell him, English is your second language, and you messed up the translation!" Bart offered cheerfully. "You can pretend to be Russian!"

"Or French," Conner counters, wagging his eyebrows. "You know the language of love. Let that pretty boy know what your intentions are."

"I think he let his intentions be known pretty well when he offered that money to get that boy out of his pants. How much was it again, Tim? A hundred dollars?"

The wailing increases in volume and Dick sighs deeply. He uncrosses his arms, moving away from where he was leaning on the door. Kon already knew he was there, but Bart and Cassie both sent him surprised looks when he moved to crouch down beside them.

It was always fun to scare people with the training that Bruce had carefully taught him.

He smiles at the sight of his brother, who is now lying on his side, in the fetal position. Tim was attempting to eat the brownies from the corner of his mouth, tears rolling down his face, and looking for all intents and purposes like he was having a proper meltdown.

"Hey there bu-dy" Dick sings grinning when Tim's eyes sharpen long enough to realize he's just teasing before he goes back to attempting to become one with the floor. "Bruce wants to have a debrief on how to apologize to the library boy."

"What?" Tim blinks, lifitng his head slightly to give Dick a overly hopeful expression. There are brief flashes as thoughts race through Tim's mind, reflecting in his eyes before he seems to brighten. "Bruce got me a second chance!?"

"Officially, this is to prevent a level 15 threat from destroying half the planet over a potential personal offense." Dick shrugs smiling more as Tim sits up, wiping the crumbs from his face. "Unofficially, he doesn't like his son to be heartbroken and set up a chance for you to apologize with the Level 15 threat."

"I'm sorry, what do you mean the library boy is a level 15 threat?" Kon cuts in, voice flat. "Was he not just some guy who could make really cool Fandom clothes?"

"Oh, Danny is the Ghost King, but that's beside the point,t" Dick waves his hand dismissively. "We have to go over the advice I gave you. I honestly don't understand how you butchered it that badly."

"You said to complement his interests!" Tim counters angrily. "To avoid giving compliments that involved his appearance, especially if it wasn't something he could change! I did, and all that happened was that he got upset!"

"Yeah, that's why Bruce set up an entire simulation in the cave, for you to practice with, because honestly, Tim, how could you mess up that badly with simple instructions?"

"I have to agree with Disco-man," Cassie says, disappointed. You need training before you talk to the Library boy.

[alzrite]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Burst your Bubble

Danny makes a small mistake that spirals out of control three years later. It starts on a fateful day while working in Clockwork's Tower, covering for the Time Lord. He had pushed for the man to take a break after hearing he hadn't been on vacation since the death of dinosaurs.

It was also recommended by Frostbite. Apparently, the stress of his job was causing Clockwork to lose grip on his age shift. Much like a human grinding their teeth in sleep due to stress, Clockwork's core was rapidly shifting him through his ages, causing aches along his core. When Danny met him, the way he went from child to middle-aged man and finally old adult was just physical proof of Clockwork's stress.

His shifting got under control after they defeated Dan, but that didn't mean his muscles had a chance to relax. He was a little better off the second time Danny saw Clockwork, but when Danny asked if he could return to his parent's college days, Clockwork's form quickly started shifting again.

Danny felt horrible about it, but he was fine taking over for the ghost to relax on vacation. It wasn't even that hard. All he had to do was watch the various timelines and record large catastrophes and bursts of hope. He also had to watch hourglasses that indicated the natural flow of time in multiple worlds. Sometimes, the sand would get stuck, so he would need to stir it with a large spoon, careful to not let anything else touch the golden shine of the time sands.

It helped that the Tower was semi-sentient. It overheard him making up lies about what he was doing on a call with his parents. Danny had told his parents that this summer, he was going away to work as a summer camp counselor, while Clockwork had selected a timeline that was moving at a different speed.

One month in Danny's home dimension was a hundred years in the one Clockwork was relaxing in. When Danny's school started again, his friend would have a lovely four hundred years to enjoy. Of course, this was a tiny break for a being like Clockwork, but Danny promised to take over every summer until he graduated.

The Tower had created a room that looked a lot like a log cabin whenever his parents attempted to video call. It even created a paycheck with actual funds directly deposited into his teen account that his parents had access to.

Their doubts about Danny lying vanished when "Camp Kronos" placed a rather generous amount of money under his name. His dad was even proud of Danny going out of his way to earn his own money. It's been a long time since his Dad sounded like that when talking about his accomplishments.

Clockwork had told him the Tower spoke to him mentally because it was his Haunt, but since Danny was only Haunt sitting, he was directed to a chalkboard that the Tower could use to write messages to him. That's how he knew it was the Tower's doing that his cover was safe back home.

Danny thanked the Tower by cleaning it from top to bottom. When he asked it what its name and pronouns were, the Tower requested to be called "it" and to stop using a capital T when referring to it.

Danny tries, but he still mentally changes tower into Tower since that is its name in his head. The tiles shake in irritation whenever he accidentally says it out loud.

Besides that, the Tower didn't really interact with him. Danny made his own food, did his own laundry, and did his work. There was never a clock in and clock out; the only time he wasn't attending the timelines was when he took short breaks to sleep, eat, bathe, and clean.

But the only time he wasn't watching the time was when he was asleep, and that was because of Tower. It somehow found a way to throw the timelines in his face whenever possible.

He did enjoy using the large tub to soak in bubbles, but Tower shifted the bubbles to reflect different scenes of the timelines he was watching, causing them to flout like the tower was blowing bubbles while Danny sat in the water. If it went that far to ensure that Danny was constantly working, he could see why Clockwork had such a hard time with the core shifting.

Then, one day, while soaking, he closed his eyes, ignoring the shifting tiles and the slight rumbling of the walls as Tower grumbled. He told it that he was taking a short break and it could wait until he was done. He would rest his eyes, no matter how important it was for him to watch.

He couldn't have them close for more than a minute, but that was all the mistake needed. At that time, one of the bubbles' timelines shifted because someone in it was being an idiot and messing with time, and it started to glow with new times and forming.

Sand that Danny accidentally touched when the bubble popped right on his nose. Tower was throwing a fit, shaking everything like an earthquake as the sand fell into the soap water.

He blinked open his eyes, startled, and much to his horror, came face to face with the sand, forming a miniature window into that timeline. A human teenager was staring right back at him, jaw dropped with a healthy building flush rising on his cheeks, as the time sand danced around his eyes, though he seemed unable to look away from Danny.

Windows were often granted to specific individuals favored by Clockwork, causing them to become Seers. It was not a common blessing because, more often than not, mortals could not handle future knowledge.

Even ghosts long dead struggle with the power. The only reason Danny was able to cover for Clockwork was because his brain was both dead and alive at the same time. Madness cause time couldn't touch him because, technically, he was already crazy.

Tower shook again, the stone groaning under its disapproval as Danny became uncomfortable, aware that the only thing protecting his dignity was the white foam low on his stomach. With a yelp, he sank further into the water, his hands covering his important bits out of habit, and he waved his hand to close the window.

The teenager moved his mouth in a silent plea, but he vanished in a swirl as quickly as he appeared. It was only a few seconds. Not even ten. Surely nothing could come from that?

A mistake he pushed to the back of his mind.

Surely, not paying attention for just a tiny amount of time could not have caused anything to be too bad.

_____________________________________________________________

"Hey dude? You okay?"

"I just....I just saw an angel...."

"What?"

"An angel. He warned me....showed me....I have to tell Mr.Wayne!"

"Wait! Where are you going!? Tell Mr. Wayne what?!"

"His son is going to die next week!"

"What!?"

"Jason Todd! The angel showed me! I have to warn them!"

_____________________________________________________________

Tower didn't tell on him, and Danny didn't bring it up. Clockwork returned in mid-adult form when the summer ended, looking far more relaxed and no longer shifting forms so rapidly.

He apparently spent four hundred years on a small paradise island, sipping coconut and dancing with locals who thought him a god. He hugged Danny, another large bonus for his paycheck, and sent him on his way.

The following summer, Danny completely forgot about the little accident and never bothered to check on that timeline. Clockwork was unaware there was a major shift in it, so he assumed that the world was moving as it should, though he complained that he had to unclog it a lot more because of a Seer who often opened too many Windows.

It was a testament to how much he needed that vacation for Clockwork to forget he never chose that Seer, despite the young human proving he had the will to handle his visions.

\Danny never realized that Seer was the same teenager he saw back then until one day three years later when Seer was an established fortune teller working as a consultant with some hero society and had used some of the said heroes to try and contact Clockwork.

"Danny." Clockwork started watching the young human set up an altar. "Why is a human attempting to use himself as a virgin sacrifice for me?"

"Ummmm"

"Danny, why does my Haunt claim you gave him the Sight."

"Well....."

"Danny why is Timothy Jackson Drake, who fated to be the third Robin in this time line, now a mere consultant who use his power of Sight for money gain? He's not a hero, did you know that? He merely lives next door to one of that world's greatest heroes and is obsessed with finding his Angel"

"I may have....made a mistake when I was fourteen."

"Danny," Clockwork's faux-friendly tone grew sharper as his form shifted from the three stages of age. "What did you do?"

"I can fix it!"

"How."

"I'll....enter that timeline and set it on the right path? I can answer his summons and convince him to become a hero with the Bats?"

Tower shook as if laughing at him.

"How." The hiss that came from the Time god was almost incomprehensible, with the amount of rage crammed into one syllable

"I'll-I can-Honey pot him!" Danny whimpered, cowering under the withering death glare Clockwork was aiming at him. "I can convince him that being a vigilante is cool and hot, so he'll be Red Robin, and the timeline can be saved?"

Clockwork's eyes darken. "You better not fail me. Send him away, Haunt"

Tower- the traitor- moved instantly. It shifted its stones to drag Danny to Red Robin's cluttered hourglass. It flung him in before he could protest, using Danny to unclog it. He is nearly down in the sinking sand, scrambling for purpose before he falls flat on his bum, and the sand vanishes.

A soft gasp has him looking up. Standing before him is the Seer Tim Drake, who looks beyond happy.

"It's you! My Angel!"

[alzrite]

One paragraph challenge: Tim approaches Bruce about a problem involving Danny

Bruce is not expecting Tim to barge into his WE office in the middle of the day nor is he expecting his son to snap out orders that has all the blinds closing, the locks springing on and the sound canceling equipment to activate. He straightens up, believing his son is about to relay a message that may or may not doom the world. Tim certainly looks serious enough to warrent worry. He feels his heart far near his ankles as Tim crosses his leg over the other and stares at him like Tim is ready to take on Death. "B, I need Brucie Wayne's expertise. How do I get pretty boys to follow me to my bedroom?"

[alzrite]

Severus: When are you going to pay me the royalties?

[alzrite]

HP Fanfic Idea: The Woods are Just Trees

Regulus always knew his brother inherited their mother's mean streak. They spat insults the same way; their eyes gleamed with the same amount of vicious glee, their mouths twisted with the same amount of satisfaction whenever they made the other person cry.

To Mother and Sirius, they won whenever they saw the tears of their opponents. It could be something serious, like Regulus accidentally spilling a secret they didn't tell him was a secret, or something as simple as him bothering them with his presence.

Sometimes, Mother would snap at him because she was upset, and he was close enough nearby. Sometimes, Sirius would all but growl at him because he wanted to relieve some stress. Then the two would act like it never happened, as if he wasn't standing by the wall, wary of their mood swings.

As if he wouldn't lie awake at night going over the day, wondering what he had done or said to set them off. Why do they act like they loved him more than anything in the world one day, and then suddenly they remembered how much he annoyed them whenever he opened his mouth? It only seemed like they disliked him because neither reacted this way with their friends or the rest of the family.

He would have to remind himself that they were good people and he just needed to work on himself more.

Regulus always forgave them. He just learned to watch his words. Recognize the signs to vanish from sight whenever one of them was having a bad day. Limit the hours spent around them to avoid accidentally ruining their day.

Before long, Regulus stopped leaving his room. He locked himself in his four walls, losing hours to searching through book pages and trying to find ways to fill the time. He would pick up hobbies like picking strawberries in a field: reading, writing, scrapbooking, knitting, crocheting, jewelry making, bookbinding, painting, drawing, and anything else his family could afford for him to try.

It was better this way.

Regulus knew they loved him, but they had a problem with their anger. It was the kind of anger that consumed and made them want to lash out. It was explosive, but much like fireworks, it was bigger and brilliant than simply gone.

Usually, by the end of the day, they would be back to smiles and thoughtful actions because they weren't in the wrong - Sirius and Mother were never in the wrong - but it would be silly to linger on an argument. In their worst arguments, they would pretend Regulus didn't exist for a couple of days.

They wouldn't talk to him or even look at him until whatever anger was boiling under their skin vanished. Gone like the winds of winter, seemingly gone but back again in a few short months. A constant cold.

Regulus wants to say he was better than that. But he knows that's a lie. He inherited his father's anger. The kind that shut him down, where he would go months without speaking to someone over a simple argument.

He was prideful, to the point that he would be willing to burn himself alive if it meant not allowing the other person to feel they could move on. His mother and brother couldn't hold on to a grudge for so long.

His father didn't visit his grandfather on his deathbed because the old man had called Orion a loser five months before. He hadn't gone to the funeral either, scoffing when Regulus' aunt begged him to.

Instead, Regulus had watched his father reference fights long since buried - apparently ones since before Orion even attended Hogwarts - and had to live with himself for putting his foot down. Had to bite his lip so hard it bled as his aunt sobbed like Orion was the one dying, but it was their own father that was being lowered into the ground.

Regulus hated how he could see it gutted his father to not go. But he would rather live with the poison than admit defeat. It was like looking at a twisted mirror.

Regulus had his father's anger, his grudges, his stupid, ridiculous pride that sank into his veins and poisoned him until he could no longer feel anything.

Maybe that's why he went along with Sirius' and Mother's act like nothing was wrong after a fight. Why didn't he mention the burning storm hiding behind his eyes as they slipped back into place within his life? They thought themselves forgiven.

He knew they weren't worth the effort.

But he let it happen. Again and again until one day, Regulus realized they thought he was like them. That only Orion Black couldn't let things go.

That day, he proved them wrong was the day Sirius went too far. When his brother got angry, it was as if all rational thoughts vanished from his mind, as if nothing else mattered, which meant he could win.

Their relationship was on the rocks ever since Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, but Regulus was too soft to really do anything about it, at least according to Sirius.

It was apparent his brother grew more and more jealous every day of the approval Regulus had from their parents. How his determination to uphold tradition made Sirius' skin crawl. How he turned his nose up at the sight of Muggle-borns just like he had been taught, while Sirius tried his best to befriend the magic stealers.

But what really tore them apart was the way Sirius interacted with James Potter. Despite the years they have survived their tempers and their disagreements, Regulus realized Sirius didn't actually like him.

He loved him, but that was likely due to all the years they had spent together. Froced to love him with enough exposure. Sirius adored James and loved him like he had never realized what family love was supposed to feel like. He would never behave that way with Regulus.

The second he realized it, Regulus' world changed. Maybe he would have stayed. Perhaps he would have gone to become the son his parents so desperately wanted. Maybe he would have been the youngest Death Eater, serving a man he deeply admired. Perhaps he would have been everything Sirius claims James Potter isn't.

Maybe the pain of ever being even liked by his brother would lead to him sobbing uncontrollably in his room. But that's not what Regulus feels.

Instead, he feels a freezing, devastating coldness. He's angry.

Angry like his father, in an unreasonable way that's more self-destructive than sensible.

He rushes to his room, packing all his belongings he could realistically carry in a crazed haze of ice-cold anger (Best not to cast any magic. Less traceable that way). Regulus leaves his wand on his stripped bed, knowing that the Trace would be tracked back to him if he took it, and it's like he's cutting his own heart open, leaving it behind, letting his wound bleed as he closes the door to his dorm, and his wand hoster sits empty.

He slips from the Common room, walking by students in the hallways without a single word. He doesn't stop, even when some of his friends call his name, even when the caregiver demands to know why he has so much on his person.

Regulus doesn't break his stride once, even when he makes it outside and passes Sirius and his group, cursing Snape to dangle by his ankles near the lakeside. It's actually a lucky break.

With everyone focusing on Snape's undergarments and that Evans girl stepping in, no one notices Regulus reach the edge of the wards. No one sees him throw his bag over the wall, or the way he carefully climbs the walls using the muscle memory of climbing to his rooftop as a child to get away from the family tension.

No one sees him walking straight into the Forbidden Forest. The woods stretch on for miles and miles. He keeps walking until the sun has set, and the forest comes to life with growls and soft hoots of owls. He doesn't stop when his feet start to ache from all the walking.

Regulus ignores the centaurs that watch him from the edge of the trees, poised over the string of their bows. He lets his eyes flicker to the fleeing herd of unicorns, but he keeps going. His eyes burn, his steps start to wobble, and it takes significantly more effort than it should to move his legs, but still, Regulus pushes on.

He swears he stepped over a sleeping mountain troll and saw more than three Acromantula following him, but even then, Regulus does not stop.

He's too angry. Too upset.

Too sure that come morning, Sirius will realize that Regulus is long gone and he won't have someone to disrespect anymore. Now his stupid anger will be taken out on his group of friends since his favorite punching bag is gone.

Sirius will then see how fast they turn away from him. How unlike Regulus, no one will be willing to put up with his mood swings.

Eventually, the sun rises, a few of its rays slipping through the branches, but not enough to make a noticeable difference. Regulus has walked so far into the forest that its dimmest light setting is when the sun is directly overhead. He stops walking at the base of a giant tree that has been carved out.

It likely used to be the home of a traveling giant because it towers over his head as tall as the Gryffindor Tower, and it has stairs carved inside, leading to the top of the tree where ledges are place as if they were hanging rooms.

Regulus ends up tumbling to the ground inside the tree because his body can no longer push further.

He is sweaty, dirty, hungry, his feet are likely bleeding, and he is exhausted. But a flash of Sirius's smug grin goes through his mind, and he finds the will to get up and set up camp.

He doubts he will be here long.

Sirius would come racing in here with a group of searchers, attempting to bring him home, and when he tried to act like nothing happened, Regulus wouldn't let him. He would force him to look bad in front of everyone, and Sirius would be so desperate to look good in front of everyone.

Regulus will likely get detention for this stunt. A lecture to end all lectures from his mother and a grounding that may affect his chances of joining the Death Eaters from his father.

But it would be worth it.

He just had to wait for Sirius to come and get him. Regulus wouldn't go back unless it was at his brother's groveling. His anger, his damn stupid pride, would never allow it.

He just has to wait.

Regulus knew Sirius would come for him even if he didn't like him. He had to. He wouldn't let his fourteen-year-old brother be at the mercy of the Forbidden Forest.

Yes, Regulus nods to himself. He wouldn't. Nobody would. I just have to be patient, and I won't be the one running back to them this time. That Regulus Black is no more.

What fourteen-year-old Regulus didn't know was that he would be learning about family tracking magic in later years for his Charms classes. In another life, he would know sometime in the fifth or sixth year that his family tapestry would only track the beliefs of family members.

It was created in a time when spells weren't researched as deeply, relying on the fact that people didn't usually think of themselves as dead, so the images reflected this.

But the second thought, that Regulus Black is no more, the tapestry acted accordingly. The old Regulus was dead to him, and now where his face once stood in the tapestry was a gleaming skull with the numbers 1975 resting under it.

His mother lets out a scream when she sees it. His father breaks open a bottle and doesn't stop drinking until it leads him to an early grave four years later.

And Sirius? He merely stops talking about the brother he once had. Sometimes, when he is drinking, he'll mention how soft Regulus was, too much of a coward to be anything but what his parents wanted. But those are sporadic moments.

Regulus stays in the forest, setting up shelter in the hollow of a tree, finds a source of drinking water, learns to hunt for food, and waits for someone to come see him.

Sixteen years later, while he's slowly tracking some Acromantulas that he plans on feasting on with his trusted bow- he had struck a deal with the centaurs, brewing them the few potions he knew in exchange for some hunting lessons- he encounters two children being led by a shaking black dog.

It takes him a moment to recognize the uniforms they are wearing- a Slytherin and a Gryffindor- and even longer for him to find words. It's been so long since he last saw another human that he has almost forgotten what it was like to look down instead of up at the centaurs.

"Hello," He croaks as the two children stare wide-eyed at him. They looked scared stiff, the blond one on the verge of tears, and the one with green eyes looking just as green in the face.

It's not like he hasn't talked since he's been in here waiting, but he is a bit out of practice, so he'll forgive them for that reaction. He lowers his bow, stepping closer. "What are you two doing in the Forbidden Forest?"

[alzrite]

James: I'm telling you this prank is full proof. We just have to get past the most dangerous Slytherin of them all: Regulus Black.

Remus: How is he the most dangerous? I once saw him crying in the Hogwarts Kitchen because the house elves baked him a cake.

James: It's his mind, Moony. He sees through everything. Then he holds it against you.

Peter: Oh, he is blackmailing you too? I'm pretty sure he has dirt on everyone in this school, including the staff.

Sirius: Don't worry. I know how to handle my brother. All we have to do is stick him in shallow water, three mere inches of it, and he freezes.

Remus: Why?

Sirius: He really doesn't like baths.

Peter: Does he not....bath then?

Sirius: *shrugs* He showers, but I'm pretty sure he cries when he does. He has Aquaphobia because he almost drowned in the tub when he was like three.

James: I had no idea- wait isn't the Slytherin Common Room under the lake?

Sirius: Why do you think we always find him sleeping in random places throughout the castle?

Remus: I'm going to be honest and say I just assume he was homeless because the other Slytherins don't like him.

Peter: I thought it was him gathering secerts for more blackmail.

James: I thought he was stalking me.

Sirius: Well, it's actually a little bit of all those answers, yeah.

Regulus from the ceiling railing: I'm going to tell everyone about your third trunk Sirius.

Sirius: MERLIN PLEASE NO! HOW DID YOU EVEN GET UP THERE? FIRST YEARS CAN ONLY LEVATE FEATHERS!

Regulus: I can do anything i set my mind to. Water is my only weakness, and don't you forget it.

[alzrite]

Bruce: What do you do if you wake up to one of your wards standing over your sleeping body, checking your heart rate while holding an Anti-creep stick?

Barry: Im going to take a wild guess here and ask: Was that Danny?

Bruce: Yes! He wanted to make sure I wasn't a vampire.

Clark: Where was Dick?

Bruce: Digging a hole.

Diana: Why was he digging a hole?

Bruce: In case I turned out to be a vampire, they needed somewhere to hide the body after Danny killed me.

Hal: Spooky, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I think those kids you took in are a danger to the public.

Bruce: They're good kids! Dick is just going through a lot with his parents being killed in front of him and Danny.....well, Danny escaped a lab that his parents sold him off to. Both of them are having some trust issues right now and are acting out. That's all.

Clark: Bruce, last week Danny broke into my apartment and held me at knife point demanding to know what my intentions were with you. He wouldn't accept that we're coworkers.

Bruce: He probably thought you were a vampire. Danny doesn't like those.

Hal: Didn't Dick break into your house too Barry?

Barry: Yeah, but that was more so he could cuddle with Wally then to make threats at me. Danny, on the other hand, showed up at three am. after rumors about Batman and Flash sleeping together went around. He threatened to cut the muscles in my legs so I could be " The fastest crawler in the world" if I didn't offer Bruce a ring by morning.

Bruce: Why is this the first I'm hearing about that?

Barry: *shrug* I figured you knew since the next day you showed up and apologize for the boy's behavior.

Bruce: I did not know. I was apologizing for him breaking into what I assumed was to see Wally while grounded like Dick. Great, now the boy is going to kill me in my sleep and/or ensure I never get a lover again.

Diana: I think it's rather sweet. Danny is placing a challenge for your would-be suitors. It's like a wolf pup attempting to scare away mates from his father. No real harm was done.

J'onn: He set me on fire.

Bruce: What? Why?

J'onn: Apparently, my eyes were on your back for too long. I was admiring your cape, but Danny believed my eyes were focused too low, and I was instead admiring your bottom. Dick threw glitter in my eyes a few hours later.

Bruce: *sigh* Danny is overly protective, and Dick does whatever his big brother tells him to. I don't know what to do anymore.

Oliver: Tell him you're a vampire but like a sluty one that feeds on lust instead of blood. He'll get scared and leave your dates alone.

Bruce: That's an incubus. What you just describe is an incubus. Also, that's a terrible plan. I would be in a hole so fast.

Hal: Yeah, but they would cry while they buried you so there's that at least

[alzrite]

Bruce: What do you do if you wake up to one of your wards standing over your sleeping body, checking your heart rate while holding an Anti-creep stick?

Barry: Im going to take a wild guess here and ask: Was that Danny?

Bruce: Yes! He wanted to make sure I wasn't a vampire.

Clark: Where was Dick?

Bruce: Digging a hole.

Diana: Why was he digging a hole?

Bruce: In case I turned out to be a vampire, they needed somewhere to hide the body after Danny killed me.

Hal: Spooky, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I think those kids you took in are a danger to the public.

Bruce: They're good kids! Dick is just going through a lot with his parents being killed in front of him and Danny.....well, Danny escaped a lab that his parents sold him off to. Both of them are having some trust issues right now and are acting out. That's all.

Clark: Bruce, last week Danny broke into my apartment and held me at knife point demanding to know what my intentions were with you. He wouldn't accept that we're coworkers.

Bruce: He probably thought you were a vampire. Danny doesn't like those.

Hal: Didn't Dick break into your house too Barry?

Barry: Yeah, but that was more so he could cuddle with Wally then to make threats at me. Danny, on the other hand, showed up at three am. after rumors about Batman and Flash sleeping together went around. He threatened to cut the muscles in my legs so I could be " The fastest crawler in the world" if I didn't offer Bruce a ring by morning.

Bruce: Why is this the first I'm hearing about that?

Barry: *shrug* I figured you knew since the next day you showed up and apologize for the boy's behavior.

Bruce: I did not know. I was apologizing for him breaking into what I assumed was to see Wally while grounded like Dick. Great, now the boy is going to kill me in my sleep and/or ensure I never get a lover again.

Diana: I think it's rather sweet. Danny is placing a challenge for your would-be suitors. It's like a wolf pup attempting to scare away mates from his father. No real harm was done.

J'onn: He set me on fire.

Bruce: What? Why?

J'onn: Apparently, my eyes were on your back for too long. I was admiring your cape, but Danny believed my eyes were focused too low, and I was instead admiring your bottom. Dick threw glitter in my eyes a few hours later.

Bruce: *sigh* Danny is overly protective, and Dick does whatever his big brother tells him to. I don't know what to do anymore.

Oliver: Tell him you're a vampire but like a sluty one that feeds on lust instead of blood. He'll get scared and leave your dates alone.

Bruce: That's an incubus. What you just describe is an incubus. Also, that's a terrible plan. I would be in a hole so fast.

Hal: Yeah, but they would cry while they buried you so there's that at least

[alzrite]

Can we have more crazy antics of Oldest Batkid Danny!?

In particular order, here are ten things Danny "The Mence" Fenton-Wayne has done after being adopted by Bruce when his parents sold him to a lab:

1. Danny once flooded Wayne Manor before he found out Bruce and Batman were the same person. He thought Batman was a vampire and the running water would stop him. If they all drowned in the process, they at least would not suffer being vampire food.

2. Alfred has a rule that every Wayne needs to work part-time to be humble and appropriate working class. Danny created his own business of leading people on ghost tours and made SURE they always saw one. He purposely pointed at people in school after word got around and whispered, "The spirits want you." Everyone freaked.

3. Dick made ONE comment of people being mean to him in school for being raised in the circus. Danny cut the power in Gotham Academy and released laughing clowns animatronics waving chainsaws into the hallways. They were programmed to avoid "Fellow Circus folk" painting Dick as a hero when he walked his terrified classmates out .

4. During a live interview, Danny twisted the questions on the host, who was attempting to make Bruce look like a bad Father. He then painted Bruce as someone showing severe signs of depression (overly drinking, too many smiles, giving people too many gifts, vanishing from the public eye, and searching for comfort in someone's arm) and then making the host cry by psycho-analyzing him.

5. Organized a protest for affordable housing and kept kicking the gas grenades back at the cops when they were called on him. It took seven people to get him into a cop car in handcuffs, and he was hissing the entire time. When Bruce attempted to bail him out, Danny moved the funds to get the innocent people out and refused to get out of the cell until the cop who punched him cried.

6. He shaved Clark's head because he couldn't scare him with a knife. Clark was more impressed that he did it without him waking up. He left oniomous messages written in what Clark thinks is blood on his walls, saying, "Stay away from my Dad. Keep it in your pants."

7. Armed with a clipboard, Danny habitually throws people out of Bruce's galas. He doesn't even explain himself; he just pops up, points at someone, and shakes his head. A security team swarms the person and tosses them out before they can get a word in. Bruce did not hire that security team. (Danny throws out people flirting with Bruce)

8. He was accused of being Batman or working with him once. He responded with a smile and a gentle, "If I were Batman, I wouldn't have let any of them live." Everyone agreed there was no possible way he wouldn't go for the kill if he had the chance and never questioned him again about it.

9. He Got the words "Peace was never an option" tattooed on his back by a Crime Alley tattoo parlor. Bruce had to then bail him out again when Danny fought off a gang who attempted to mug him as he was leaving the alley with his new tattoo. He had proof it was self-defense and spent the entire news coverage gushing about the tattoo artist's skills instead of the mugging.

10. Every time Bruce brought a new kid after Dick to the house, they were under the impression Danny was a violent, unreasonable person. They were shocked to learn he's the most in touch with his emotions, regularly does self-improvement, keeps up with his therapy, and is so soft with them; he is the walking embodiment of Doting Big Brother. In his hero persona, he is just as gentle and fondly looked upon by the masses. It took them a moment to realize that Danny had copied Bruce's idea of keeping his hero and civilian ID separate. The only difference is that his Hero version is the Brucie, and his Civilian version Is the Batman.

[alzrite]

Everything is fun and games until Menace!Danny's little siblings find out that he's the one with a partner.

I'm a little sibling. I know we have a perfect 10 steps plan to make the partner disappear. Menace!Danny is giving shovel talk — his siblings are kidnapping and doing human sacrifice because violence is the only possible answer.

The first time it happened, it was a goth girl. Her name was irrelevant (though they would soon learn that Danny had a type), but they knew that Danny had met her at a protest.

Apparently, the two had been attempting to stop a project that was going to cause damage to the local buildings. Danny was a big fan of protecting Gotham's iconic Gothic infrastructure and was appalled that the big corporations wanted to tear it down and move to more modern skyscrapers.

Now it's well-known that the Waynes all looked up to Danny. He was everything they wanted to be.

Danny could match Bruce in hand-to-hand combat, make even the most stubborn of heroes respect him with a few soft spoken words, and not to mention his inventing ability. Danny was the glue that kept them all together and their unwavering leader in the darkest if nights.

Despite the rumors, the masses (and themselves before they actually met him) believed Danny was sensitive in an almost heartbreakingly kind way, which worried them for their brother. If the world thought the worst of him, then Danny likely had the worst of the worst attempting to use him.

The Waynes all collectively agree that no one was worthy of Danny's time, especially some goth girl who commented more than once that "dirtbags like Fenton-Wayne" were relatively easy..

And really, she was all about death as a goth, so why had she made such a big deal about them nearly feeding her to Killer Croc? If she liked Death so much, why was she even still alive? They were doing her a favor.

Danny had been rather sad for a few days when she was rejected, even when walking near him, but he took it as their personalities not matching. He was unaware of them slowly lowering her towards a canopy while Dancing Queen was playing. Dick had made sure she could see them dancing to the music as they each took turns reading the comments they documented her saying and then pulling the level to have her drop little by litte.

When she threatened to involve the cops, Tim laughed and told her they were rich. The rich always get a slap on the wrist, especially against someone in her tax bracket. More so with her having no proof.

They made sure she had no proof.

She left the city the following month, but by then, the Waynes had turned their attention to the third son of the Trox family. He had flirted with Danny, who seemed to believe it was the beginning of an epic romantic tale, unaware that the Trox boy was bragging about how easily he got the eldest Wayne on his knees.

Jason was working on how to take Trox's kneecaps without the police, Bruce, or Danny any the wiser as revenge for those comments. His siblings were more than happy to get it done.

[alzrite]

More Menace!Danny please he's so funny

"What are you doing in my house?" A young voice whispers as softly as the spring rain pouring outside.

Clark screams, jumping a foot into the air. He wirls around only to come to a standstill as a young teenager, no older than fifteen, stares back at him.

His clothes hung off his body, but it looked more like that was a personal choice for baggy, checkered pajamas. His skin was pale, too pale, like he hadn't seen the sun in months. There were dark circles under the boy's eyes, as if someone had taken purple paint and rubbed it against his face until no amount of washing would get it off.

Bandages were wrapped around his arms and neck. Clark could see a few of them disappearing inside his shirt, indicating there were more treated wounds hidden away. His hair was in disarray, pointing in every direction like the top of a pineapple, but cut short enough that it almost looked like someone with scissors had gone at the strands with a personal vendetta.

In the teenager's closed fist is a chunk of hair.

Clark notices, with a growing sense of panic, that there is a breeze on the back of his head that wasn't there before. Accompanied by stinging is more proof that a good amount of his hair had been ripped out, and if he wasn't Kryptonian, then that would have been a whole lot worse.

If it wasn't for the yank on his hair, he would think he was staring at a ghost.

He gawks unattractively, feeling his heart run faster than the wild rabbits he used to chase out of the gardens with Pa. Clark hadn't heard the boy's approach at all, couldn't even pick up his breathing or his heartbeat.

Wasn't that just alarming? He had come to do an interview on Mr. Wayne's latest charity, one that would assist more than half the city get a college associate, so long as they graduated from a high school within Gotham. It was a generous offer, one the readers would adore hearing in his new Positive column.

Clark was finally catching his big break at the Daily Planet. He has been put in charge of a newspaper column of his choice, and he chose to report on all the good things that were happening. He felt that people chased tragedies too much when new worthy stories were everywhere.

Yes, his column was towards the end of the paper, near the comics, but it was his. It seemed to be doing well, too. Perry had increased his writing space as positive reviews started pouring in. Soon, Clark may even be assigned the big stories, the ones that would be put on the front page.

Mr. Wayne had made a comment about checking in on his son, who had vanished upstairs while Clark was busy setting up a recording device - with Mr. Wayne's permission, of course - when the boy had likely snuck in.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" The boy repeats in a soft voice, but with the new amount of steel entering each syllable. Clark felt vulnerable as he scrambled back a few steps on instinct.

"I ugh, I'm here for Mr. Wayne-"

"If you think you can convince Bruce into your bed, you've got another thing coming," The boy hisses, lurching forward with his feet bent in two separate directions, appearing almost spider-like. Clark yelps, pressing himself against the wall, staring down in horror at what he's half convinced isn't human. "How many broken bones can a body survive before someone dies? You should know, shouldn't you, News Man."

The words are more growled out than spoken, and Clark is half convinced that he could go through with his threat even if he doesn't know Clark is Superman.

"I ugh-"

"Danny, there you are!" Mr. Wayne's cheerful voice breaks the spell as the boy straightens up, twisting his feet back in the direction they have to be and stepping away from the reporter with a nasty scowl.

Mr. Wayne walked over, throwing an arm around the boy and bringing him into an easy side hug that spoke of fatherly love, while beaming at Clark. "Mr. Kent, I've seen you've met my son Danny Fenton-Wayne. Adopted him only a month ago."

Clark stares between the two, drinking in the easy, warm disposition of Mr.Wayne by the darkness that surrounded Fenton-Wayne. If it wasn't for the slightly more effeminate features of Fenton-Wayne, which made him more tragically pretty than Mr. Wayne's classically handsome, they would have looked biologically related.

That and the fact that Mr. Wayne looked like he would cry to hurt a fly, while Fenton-Wayne would set a building on fire just to feel something.

Clark shivered but forced a strained smile on his face. "He's lovely. You must be so proud."

Fenton-Wayne's eyes narrowed in barely concealed violence while Mr. Wayne beamed brighter, "I am!"

Clark prayed he didn't have to see Fenton-Wayne often in the future. He could barely handle Batman breathing down his neck for coming to his city. The other hero didn't seem to like the idea that he was just doing his job, but thankfully, Phantom, the young sidekick of Batman, was holding him off.

Now that kid was the sweetest child he's ever had the pleasure of encountering.

[alzrite]

Thinking back on travel buddy I remember dick had that whole bit about creepy old people and I just think that danny the menace would have been taking names and knee caps.

"Danny."

"Yes, B?"

"Why did you throw out Mrs. Lang from my Gala last night?"

"Simple B, she was being creepy with Dick."

"Creepy how?"

"She told him that he had a pretty mouth, and she could teach him how to use it."

"....I was going to tell you that having her thrown down a well was an overreaction, but I will let it slide. I'll contact our lawyers once she gets out of that well."

"She's already out of the well. You don't need to worry about her suing us. I recorded the whole conversation and let her know that everyone around her would find out she was making comments like that to a child."

"Good blackmail chum, but-'

"It wasn't blackmail. I literally told everyone around her what she did. She's in jail now, where she will be taken care of by people who owe me a favor."

".....Danny, we talked about this."

"If you get to kiss criminals, I get to befriend them, B.

[alzrite]

Ok, I need you to elaborate more about The Menace! Danny's Hero Persona cause I can understand if he's too nice (almost like Nightwing but more doting than funny) or if he's the "normal" one (he comes, beats you but hey! He isn't as violent like the rest so he's the best option)

I'm picturing him in his hero persona petting strays and openly talking about mental health

He's the kind of hero who stays behind after the fights, passing around assistance forms for insurance claims. He makes sure to get the information on the damaged properties so that he can later reimburse or fix them himself.

People took notice, and wherever there is a big fight, it's relatively common to see online postings of "Hey anyone that can help, Phantom is at Adress XXX trying to put in a roof! Gardeners too, for the lawns damage by car. I'll bring my grill and some stakes!" and people just....show up to help??? Turn it into a blog party???

Help each other??? Remember the good times.

Phantom always beams at them, which is just as rewarding. He also helps with several fundraisers. Like he'll stop his patrol to buy Girl Scout cookies, go to school bake sales, get involved in cleaning up parks, visit people in hospitals, and find warm shelter for anyone he comes across.

Phantom also never posts things himself. It's always one of his fans because he thinks that good things should be done without aiming for fame.

No one really knows when or where Phantom will pop up. After being Batman's star, since he glows and is a ray of hope, Phantom slowly developed his own time and rhythm, appeasing both Day and Night crimes.

He still beats the criminals up and cracks jokes as he does it. It's not like Flash, who can de-escalate situations, but more of mutual respect. He also teaches free self-defense classes and walks anyone who's scared at night home (Sometimes people try to trap him for this, but most of the time he has escorted young women and men home).

Phantom has also placed emergency buttons around the city, after clearing it with the mayor. People push them to let each other know that something is wrong, and to send an SOS to Phantom. He will pop in to check on you, even if it's just a street kid asking for homework help.

He's literally an angel without wings......and then there's Danny Fenton-Wayne, who's setting shit on fire while throwing in home-made dolls of his classmates and pointing at people to growl "The spirits want you".

[alzrite]

Martha: Thomas, I don't like the butler you just hired.

Thomas: Why, my Darling? Is it because I'm flirting with him?

Martha: No, no, no. I don't mind that. I would flirt with him, too, if it wasn't for the....issue.

Thomas: Issue...? Is it - is it because he's British?

Martha: What? Heavens, no! In fact, him being British makes Alfred more attractive. No, the issue is the ghost he's being haunted by.

Thomas: Oh, you can't possibly be talking about what his last employer said. Honestly, I'm pretty sure he made that up to try and ruin all of Alfred's chances of finding a job after he quit.

Martha: Sweetie, darling, the Honey of my bumblebee, look at the window in Alfred's sleeping quarters.

Danny:

Thomas: OH SHIT. THAT'S A GHOST!

Martha: Yes.

Thomas: Do you think he's Alfred's boyfriend?

Martha: ....why?

Thomas: He's hot.

Martha considering Danny: Oh my, you're right. He is hot. Maybe I was being too quick to judge. I'm sure our haunted hot butler and his equally hot angry ghost will do well here.

Thomas: *blowing a kiss towards Danny*

Danny:

[alzrite]

I love love all your writings!!

I like your depictions of John Constantine.

I'd like to see you write the sad trenchcoat persona as just that a persona in the same fashion as how Brucie Wayne is a persona.

Maybe he's been the de-aged Danny/Dannies father for years and is an actual functional adult. The sad trenchcoat is just used to keep people from calling on him to frequently because he's a dad and has dad-like things to do.

He could help tim with the time stream thing, like 'oh, yeah that does look like Bruce. Alright kid pack a bag we're going in the time stream I know a guy. No Nightwing I'm not joking this looks like solid proof'.

Maybe Bruce has a oh shit he's actually competent and could kill me, that's hot moment. (Kids I have found your other father, help me get him home)

"I would love to offer more of my time to waste on monitor duty, but I have a previous engagement. A particular fit lady needs help getting her dress on the floor. The cloth always gets stuck on her horns. " John leers, wagging his eyebrows at the grimaces his words cause.

He takes a puff of his cigarette, inhaling the smoke like a drowning man. He never smokes at home, not with Danny's sensitive lungs or Dani's general disgust at smoking, so he only had the chance when called away on missions.

Plus, Danny was trying out for ballet soon, and he wasn't going to ruin his son's chances of being a star because of his own poor habits.

It helped that the rest of the heroes believed he was consistently pumping nicotine into his system. Rather irresponsible for the hero to publicly commit frowned-upon activities - at least in the States. Back home, no one cared that much.

It didn't matter that the Justice League was a global team; the main hard hitters and founders were nearly all American, and they tended to uphold those social expectations, either subconsciously or not.

One more reason why they shouldn't bother John, he can't have him smoking at a big awards ceremony or seen going through an entire pack of cigarettes mid-fight. Oh no.

John Constantine was one of the best magic users of this universe, but he was a last resort. There were plenty of other magic users like Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Zatara, or even Etrigan that came to mind first.

John was likely too busy drowning his misery in bottles or the arms of any willing partner. That's what they all thought.

Or more importantly than what he wanted them to think.

"Well, this has been a time." He announces, snapping his fingers to open a portal to his house. "But I have to run. My lady needs a knowledgeable hand to help her-"

"Enough," Batman growls. Though he has complete control over his emotions, John can tell he's irritated by the meaningless detail. He smirks as the hero waves a hand, "Just go."

He offers the rest of the meeting room a cheeky two-finger salute as he struts out, letting the portal close behind him so his trench coat flares dramatically. It's a nice view, he's sure, but it's also unnecessarily showy, and he is sure at least three pairs of eyes are rolling at his exit.

A chuckle escapes his mouth, straightening from his slouch to properly stand straight and bend it far enough to pop. Goodness, his act always leaves him with a sore upper back; maybe he shouldn't hunch over so much, even if he was playing the part of a no-good punk.

John only had a few seconds to shiver at his own thoughts- he was a punk. A real one! He was in a band!- before he heard the tell-tell sign of a rapidly approaching double set of footsteps echo down the hall. He scrambles to fling his lit cigarette into a water portal, chucking the pack for double security, while summoning a random suitcase from thin air.

All that's left is his rather eye-catching coat, a little too worn down and old to work well with his well-put-together outfit underneath. Without it, John has a clean, pressed white shirt, a respectful tie, and a pair of slacks that make more than one head turn as he walks.

All in all, he looks like the office businessman his worthless father always wanted to be.

John throws off his coat over a chair at the same time the door is thrown open with a pair of excited yells. "Welcome home, Dad!"

A grin stretched across his face before he could think about it, feeling his heart swell at the sight of them, as he knelt down, arms open wide. Two tiny bodies slam into him without a second of hesitation, nearly knocking John backwards.

He lets out a soft grunt as Dani's arms attempt to wrap around his left arm and right shoulder. She clashes against Danny, who's trying to bury himself into John's right side, little face squished against one of John's pecs, like a bunny burrowing into the snow.

"Hello, my little lambs!" He gushes, squeezing the kids close. "How was your day with the House of Mystery? Did you two behave?"

"They were angels," Black Orchid confirms, gliding into the room at a much slower pace. They had their regular, impassive expression on their faces, but John could tell that Orchid was happy with the kids by the way they gently tapped the tops of the children's black hair.

"Dad! Dad! Now that you're home, can we please go get my new ballet shoes?" Danny begs, bouncing on his toes.

For a moment, John doesn't see his son, but rather his own blue eyes staring up at his father, when he was also five, begging to join Lily, the next-door neighbor, in beginners' ballet class.

His father had beaten him nearly to death for wanting such a girly interest. It was the last time they spoke about it. It was also the last time John ever bothered asking to start new hobbies.

"Dad! Dad! Can I do Karate?" Dani asks then, snapping John from his memories better left buried, as she presses her check against her brother's in an attempt to get John's attention. "I want to break a board with my fist!"

He gives the children another squeeze, laughing at the squeals he gets. "Of course you can do karate, little lamb. We're going to get your brother his shoes, and then I'll find a gym that offers the classes at the same time."

"I already provided that service." Orchid cuts in, holding a flyer for Flying Graysons' gym, founded and run by the eldest Wayne in Gotham. "I took the liberty of signing Danny up for a class with Casnadra Wayne, and Dani will join Duke Thomas's class. It starts in a week."

"Plenty of time to go get them everything they need and a new book series for our bedtime stories," John announces, loosening his arms so his children can cheer and bounce up and down in excitement. His knee is starting to cramp up, but he ignores it so he can hold his kids.

It's moments like these, so small and mundane, that John is grateful he thought of his persona. When he first learned how to use the magic he was gifted, he always made himself available for any crisis.

This was before the Justice League days, so anyone who sought him out was familiar with the occult world. He adored helping, and he built an incredible amount of skill and knowledge in magic, but soon John was facing disaster after disaster, dragging his exhausted body from one place to another.

Those who came searching for him never cared. They wanted John to jump at the drop of a hat. He tried for years to always be ready, always be willing, but years of isolation and desperate battles tried him to the core.

Then he took in Danny and Dani, finding the pair of babies in a basket at the feet of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. He had gone to investigate the legends of the famous King Pariah Dark, only to find what he assumed were originally sacrifices, well and truly alive.

Their names were attached to their feet with a letter written by a Jazz Fenton begging the two to grow and live well. She had died to save them. In her honor, John kept their names.

Daniel "Danny" Fenton and Danielle "Dani" Fenton. He often wondered what Jazz had been to the kids, with their identical last names. It is a question he will never get the answer to.

They could have been no older than five months, but when they opened their eyes and reached up for him, John realized he no longer wanted to be the go-to man of magic.

He wanted to be their father.

To discourage people from calling him away from his children, John created his persona of a man barely honorable enough to join a team. Over the five years of his raising his kids, his reputation plummeted until only Batman called to him unless absolutely necessary.

It was a breath of fresh air. John had fought for too long and too hard. He was retired now, just like his band days, the days when John would speed off to save the world were behind him. He only stepped in if a friend asked for a favor.

He had other priorities now.

The best part? The Justice League would never know that.

"Dad!" Dani screamed into his ear, making him grimace.

"Inside voice, darling."

"Sorry." She twirls her fingers, a nervous habit she picked up from John, before brightening up "I'm just super excited. Orichad said Mr. Bruce Wayne will be at the gym! Do you think he'll sign my Wayne Space shirt?"

Ah, yes, the man who was funding some space program or another. He only knew about this because his twins adored anything to do with space travel, as if though he couldn't just teleport them to a different planet.

"I'm sure he will, darling."