#lazarus water is ectoplasm

[stars-obsession-pit]

Pest Control

The League of Assassins has killed a lot of people. That’s kinda their whole deal. And deaths, especially emotionally intense ones (such as, you know, being murdered), can cause ghosts.

Which means they’ve got plenty of experience fighting off angry spirits.

The battles were extremely challenging at first, but eventually they had a breakthrough. Treating a blade with Lazarus Water—either during the forging itself or as a temporary coating later—can render it capable of harming ghosts despite their phantasmal nature.

With this advantage, the fights gradually began to lose their challenge. Sure, the ghosts may have powers, but they were new and completely lacked training or experience in their usage. Not a real fight. More just… an annoying chore to foist onto the lower ranks. Pest control.

Well, that was until a ghost actually thought about their situation and chose to flee and spend time training and gathering allies so as to even the odds…

Optional addition that’s more Danny-centric, for you want to include him/Amity specifically rather than just the concept of DP ghosts in general:

Danny is concerned about the new ghost that showed up in Amity Park.

It’s not that they’re particularly dangerous—if anything, they’re rather weak at the moment—but they seem incredibly determined about preparing for something. They’ve clearly been training, growing stronger between each battle, and are constantly asking other ghosts about potential team-ups.

It’s suspicious. And Danny has to get to the bottom of it before anyone gets killed.

(He of course doesn’t know the most important murders already happened and that this is about avenging them)

[mkarchin713]

DC x DP: is Ra’s turning into a Halfa?

So you know how the Lazarus Pits have started losing their effect on Ra’s?

Well what if the reason the pits are losing there effect is because Ra’s is too liminal for it to work any more.

If we take the “Lazarus Water is contaminated ectoplasm” trope and combine it with “long term ectoplasm exposure causes liminalty” trope together, and suppose that a person can only be so liminal before becoming a halfa, then we could assume that Ra’s is close to hitting the liminality threshold that would take him from a liminal human into a halfa.

Thoughts?

[spacedace]

“I’m telling Cassie and Bart you called their niece a radioactive frog.”

Tim gave in to the urge and curled around him, soaking in Kon’s warmth and comfort as his boyfriend started purring again. They’d gone longer than five days without seeing each other since they’d started dating - the nature of the hero gig sometimes, sadly - but forced time apart was never pleasant. Blame it on the time Kon died, but Tim was prone to a bit of separation anxiety every now and then - even when it was his fault they were apart. He yawned into Kon’s soft hoodie as his boyfriend began rubbing soothing circles over his back. He was halfway to falling back asleep again when Kon’s words finally clicked into place.

“Niece?”

-

Chapter 3 (of now 4 oops) is now up! :D

[lulubirb]

First prompt???

So somehow, Danny lives in Gotham. It can be vivisection, running away, going to college, or reveal gone well and he needs to get out if amity park. He ends up in crime alley, and meets Hood. It can be Hood chasing him or anything. But Hood learns how to use his ecto and learns how to make his eyes flash green on command.

So Jason tries to intimidate this person by making his eyes shine green (the green shines from behind the mask (or domino if you’d prefer)) but fails because this random civilian isnt scared.

Danny on the other hand is already tired because of something and is like ‘exCUSE ME? You think your scary?? I can do that shit too.’ And flashes his eyes even brighter before he can think and sees the the RED HOOD is flabbergasted.

Im not creative enough to make a fic of this, but thought of danny getting defensive and one upping Jason is so funny to me.

[lurukifennecfox]

again snippets i won't finish because reasons

Everything was going well which should have been the first clue.

Danny moved to Gotham (Vlad insisted he pay for it and he'd been doing better so he let him have it) he's going to Gotham Academy, he was visiting his old haunt so often people thought Phantom never left! turns out if a ghost is strong enough they can teleport to their haunt and he is strong! even if he never quite got the hang of teleportation aside from returning to his haunt.

[•••]

he must have said something wrong because now the halfa was glaring at him with ectoplasm green eyes, he rolled his eyes.

"c'mon stop with the scary eyes" he said it and winced, shit he sounds like Vlad! wait it's not quite Ecto-green, it's diluted? more Lazarus than pure Ecto... that doesn't look healthy is it why he barely can feel his core??? is he really sustaining on Lazarus Water?!

[radiance1]

Jack was an inventor. A hunter. A walking tank of a man who could intimate anyone he wanted to if he weren't such a joyful man.

Daniel was not.

He was short, thin, calm and composed where his father was the sun. He was not a hunter, nor an inventor.

Talia was an assassin. A living, walking weapon. Impossible to notice footsteps. The eyes of a predator and all the grace of one moving in for the kill.

Daniel was not.

He was a failed heir. A less refined weapon than his mother. Footsteps heavy and loud compared to his mother. The eyes of a cold, dead fish with no life and nothing left to give.

He did not know it at the time but.

Daniel was a doctor. Someone that saved people. Mended broken bodies. Always carrying something to help. Nothing but medical knowledge rolling around in his head and the desire to save. Life saver.

Damian was the successful heir. Son of Bruce Wayne. Quiet footsteps. The eyes of a predator. Body trained to perfection. A master of the sword. Life taker.

A success, where he failed.

A battle of heirs. An outcome already decided, already known, already foreseen.

There should've only been one.

And indeed, there was none but one.

In spite of his loss, his failure, he was not exterminated as he thought he should have been. He was instead placed in the pits, the water mending his broken body not for the first time, then taken out, and found himself alongside his mother.

That was the last time he saw of her, and his brother. Only a scar where his brother would have killed him, refusing to be healed, left behind in remembrance.

He then found himself with a family. His father's family. Daniel knew of his father, a genius inventor who could build a great many things from scraps of metal, a gene that, while respected, was not what the League wanted.

It was a fling, and nothing more.

He gained a new mother and a sister. Inserted into a family who welcome him with open arms, yet already had their own dynamics that they practiced from time to time, and he always found himself at a loss when they try to fit him in them in some way.

Then, when he turned ten years of age, a year without seeing hide nor hair of his mother and brother. Came a man, Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters was confident, self-assured. Well trained. Having money to spend in spades and spades yet making all that and more. The eyes of someone who thought themselves better than most, eyes of a snake, a spider, slowly waiting for something to take the bait.

Despite all of this, a certain sense of loneliness seemed to hang around him like an ever-present cloud. Something Danny only realized was there, when he caught the man broken down.

Daniel did not know how to feel of Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters did not like his father, even though he seemed to treat his mother like an old friend, the same way his father treated him. He seemed both fond and somewhat off put by his sister, Jasmine Fenton.

Daniel finds himself respecting and sympathizing with that sentiment.

Jasmine Fenton was nice. Social. Unaware of her unconscious ability to think herself superior. Thinks she is often right. Does not like to be wrong. Likes to think things through.

Likes to peer inside of someone's head.

Daniel does not like that. Vlad does not like it either.

But she is nice, good intentioned, his sister. So he will overlook it. She is also Vlad's goddaughter, and so he too, will overlook that trait of hers.

Daniel was not interested in a great many things. He was not fond of swordsmanship, even though he was ruthlessly trained in it. He was not fond of building like his father, not as fond as running calculations to make inventions work like his mother, was not fond of, and while a useful ability, peering into the heads of others.

He was, however, found of what he found in Vlad Masters' basement. Something he believes was to be kept secret, yet found anyway.

He was unsure of how much time he spent occupied with what he found, time spent with eyes that only blinked when they were forced to because of dryness.

Time that was cut, when the owner of said basement, found him.

Curiously enough, he did not throw him out, and Danny did not notice him when exactly the man got there, nor how long he was there, until he made himself known.

He offered to teach Daniel of the knowledge he so sought, and Daniel only took a few seconds to accept the hand outstretched to him.

Four years. Four years did Daniel study under Vlad Masters, growing his understanding of the human body, watching how exactly to hold a scalpel properly, how to use certain equipment, what exactly to do that would let the human body heal without changing anything too much.

How to help, how to save lives. What to use to cut away pain, and help those in need.

A way to repent for every inch of blood on his small hands, was what Daniel saw.

Vlad Masters did not often make mistakes. His every move was far too calculated for such a thing. But he does, in rare cases, make mistakes.

One of them, was how Daniel found out about his unique biology. Vlad Masters was something called a halfa, a mix between the undead and living, a ghost and human.

It reminded him, not for the first time since he came to live in Amity Park, just how much ectoplasm reminded him of Lazarus Water. Yet he could tell, knew they were different due to various factors.

He wondered if he should try and write to his mother about this, more than once.

He did not.

After his 14th birthday, Vlad said that there was not much more he could teach him. Daniel soaked up all the knowledge given to him like a sponge, and retained all of it easily.

As a jest, he was told that he was allowed to pick a new name because of this.

He thought it was serious.

So he chose Danny. A name that came from one the rare, soft moments between him and his elder brother. Where he could not yet pronounce his name properly, before he underwent correction, a time where both of them were all smiles and no blood on their hands.

Danny.

The rift between Vlad Masters and Jack Fenton somehow, without his notice, closed. They were acting as if they were the best of friends, more so his father than Vlad Masters, and they became a functioning family with their odd little quirks.

When he turned 15, he went to Gotham. He was living with his sister while she attended college there, he did not want to go to school, so he did not.

It took many a time of convincing for them to finally allow it.

Danny did not know Gotham. He knew of it. He knew this to be the home of his brother's father, Bruce Wayne, that it was the city with the most crime, the city home to a notorious number of villains.

The city under watch and protected by Batman.

But not much more than that. He did not care for his brother's father, for whatever legacy he had fell only to his brother to fulfil. He hoped his brother achieved what he wished for.

Back then, and still today.

He wandered the streets of Gotham when Jazz was occupied. Familiarizing himself with the environment and finding out what was where and where is that.

Not for the first time, he found injured, and not for the first time, he treated them free of charge.

He had more than enough money to resupply himself, thanks to his mentor filling his account with money every month.

He gained a bit of a reputation, that child with a far too large lab coat. Dead fisheyes, a wandering doctor who treats anyone injured he came across. Though his reputation was small, having recently just came to Gotham.

One day, curiously enough, he found something new in his endless days of wandering.

A boy dead on his feet, covered in dirt, a ruined suit and looking like he just pulled himself out of a grave crossing the street, unaware of the car speeding towards him.

He was hit, and somehow landed in front of Danny.

He crunched down on his lollipop, throwing the stick through the air and into a nearby trashcan without looking while opening another and placing it in his mouth.

He took the boy home in what a normal person would essentially call a kidnapping,

He did not know how the boy, older than him, survived the trip back to his home. But he wasn't going to complain about it. He entered a room, one filled with medical equipment, the best that could be offered, and placed his mystery guest one of many beds.

He treated him as best as he could, then left to go get something to eat.

He still stuck to his wandering, but he regularly checked in on his guest. A week later, and the boy was awake, sitting up in his bed when Danny opened the door to check on him.

He introduced himself as Jason Todd.

Then he disappeared for some time, and the bed that held him for a week was empty.

Sometime later, he heard of Red Hood.

He did not know what to think of the gunslinger in red, and what his stake in the politics of Gotham would be. He didn't exactly care for the politics, so he stayed away from it.

He did not know why the Red Hood held good will towards him, considering they have not met before. But he was claimed to be under his 'protection' for reasons unknown.

The reason, he found out, after carrying the man to his home (it was a bit of struggle, but Danny was the son of Jack Fenton, and took after him in strength as well, although to a lesser degree), placed him in one of many beds, and found out his identity.

Red Hood was Jason Todd, a patient he had not seen for some time now turned lord of crime.

It was a bit surprising, but not something that mattered.

Perhaps it should have, when he found himself sitting across from the protectors of the night who decided to invite themselves into the house alongside his sister with a Red Hood that looked like he was none too pleased by this situation.

And a brother he had not seen in many a year.

[forgottenac3]

Okay so I have a idea

After the defeat of pariah dark Danny doesn't have to be ghost king (maybe someone else takes the position or maybe they just get rid of the position)instead he becomes The mayor of a city

I think we will call it Infinty City, and it becomes what is considered the capital of the Infinte realms

How Danny became the mayor of a city?

I don't know

Anyways, Infinty City expands with the Infinte realms

Since theirs billions of ghost living there how is their no fighting?

Well, Infinty City is what's known as a city haunt. Each ghost has a smaller haunt while Infinty City is no one's haunt, but at the same time, everyones

There's almost everything you can do in the city

There is a currency(though I don't know what), and a lot of the ghosts living there have jobs

I also like to imagine there's not just ghost living there their is also different species (Fae,Demons,etc)

If your looking for something you'll most certainly find it there

Alot of magic users go there for that reason

Infinty City is somewhat alive, not sure how alive though

So anyways

Damian takes the batfamily on a vacation

[stars-obsession-pit]

Wait I just had a thought and I am shocked i’ve never seen it before (though i assume it must have been done before by someone)

If the Lazarus Pits are made of ectoplasm, that means other ectoplasm presumably has similar resurrection powers, right? Hell, it might even be better at doing it if the downsides of Lazarus Water stem impurities mixed in that worsen the original effects.

So what if someone dies in the crossfire of one of Phantom’s big fights and he accidentally revives them because he’s bleeding all over their corpse?

[knifknighted]

Lazarus waters are not just any ectoplasm, they are Pariah Dark’s ectoplasm. Once Danny became king he was tasked with eradicating any remnants of Pariah’s power. Now he has to figure out what the Lazarus water has to do with the League of Assassins and Red Hood.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 2 - "Don't worry, I got you."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of death, implied mentions of panic attacks handling, Jason typical profanity

"Don't worry, I got you."

These were the first words Jason could finally hear after what felt like forever. His head was pounding and his vision was still tinted green but slowly he felt like he was gaining control over the rage that had taken over.

He couldn't remember what triggered it, nor what he had done when his vision turned green. All he remembers was that he had been out on Patrol before he heard a scream. But now he could feel two hands resting on his shoulder. A young voice resounded in his ears, telling him to breathe in deeply, hold it and then breathe out. He remembers this exercise, B had made sure they all knew this one, so that they could help anyone that was working themselves into a panic attack. But he wasn't suffering through one, was he?

Unconsciously his eyes closed, blocking his vision of the still tinted green world.

"That's it. Try to redirect that power, don't let the Mania take hold. Can you feel your core? Try listening for its humming."

What core? What do they mean? Yet despite not knowing what they were talking about Jason tried to follow the direction the voice gave him. He wasn't sure why he was even listening to them, but something in him made the vigilante want to trust them. Redirect the power, they had said. Maybe they meant the Pit Rage? But how? Feeling for his core? Did they mean his heart? Jason could do that, he focused on his heart beat, tried to sense how it beat rhythmically in his chest and heard the blood rushing in his veins. Now that he listened there was a humming next to his heartbeat. Was this what they meant? Probably.

"Great you found your core, focus on it. Store that power in there for now."

Nodding slightly Jason tried to do what they said. Whatever this core was, he imaged it like a box and then mentally stuffed all that Pit Rage into it. Every bit of rage and madness the Pit made him feel, everything. He pushed it all into the box he imagined as that core and once it was all in there he decided to go a step further. His eyebrows furrowed as he imagined closing the lit of the box and putting a big fat lock on it. Like the one B put on his weapon storage after he raided it 5 times in a row when he had run out of grenades to throw at drug dealers and other scum lurking in his territory.

"Hey! Hey! Don't overdo it! Your core is still tiny! To much power und you will be in big trouble if it bursts the next time!"

His eyes snapped open. The first thing he noticed was his version was no longer tinted green. The second thing he noticed was the kid floating with no legs before him. Lazarus Green eyes coupled with snow white hair stared concerned yet relieved back at him.

"What the fuck-"

"Great! You're back to your senses!" The kid cut him of grinning at him and Jason was just confused and also surprised at himself. He did not feel anymore rage or a need for violence but instead his mind for once felt calm and a whole lot Pit free. Though there was the confusion of WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT KID?

"I honestly didn't expect to find another Halfa when I was contacted by Pandora to look into something. But Clockwork did mention something before, that I should look out for his Granddaughters fan that lives in Gotham and wears a red helmet. Didn't think I would meet you this soon though or like that. I haven't even greeted Lady Gotham yet. I was just on my way to the center of her haunt when I got these real disturbing feelings and bam you appeared out of nowhere attacking and I was forced-"

He cut the kids rambling off by rudely shoving his hand over the kids mouth to make the boy stop talking. "Shut up for a second there kid and let me catch up. You just dumped a lot of info there."

The kid had the nerve to sheepishly rub the back of his neck as he floated backwards a little, away from his hand that was covering his mouth. "Sorry, I got excited there. I think this must have been how the fruitloop had felt at first before things went to shit, when he found out I was a Halfa too. It's just kind of exciting, you know? There aren't a lot of us."

"The fuck you mean Halfa?" He questioned and mentally thanked his self from a couple hours ago for choosing to go on patrol with his trusted helmet instead of listening to his brother to use just a mask because of the head. This way the kid was not able to see his facial expression escaping him with all the info bombs the kid kept dropping.

"Half death, half alive. Well more like Half Ghost, Half human but details." The kid shrugged and Jason really wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose right now through his helmet.

"Last I checked I appear to be pretty alive, kid." He would know if he weren't or at least he hoped he would know, somehow.

"Well duh. That's the half alive part. The half death part is your second form, have you not managed to transform yet? I mean your core is tiny but that shouldn't matter to much. You did die and then come back alive with the balance sort of regulated by a big amount of ectoplasm, right? Though I have to say that the ectoplasm in your system is very unusual. It's so different from what I feel from Dani, Dan or even the fruitloop. I probably should drag you to Frostbite as soon as possible but there are no portals here so I would have to drag you either to my home or Wisconsin first, or maybe find a natural portal but that's harder than just taking you to one of the permanent open ones. Speaking of Dani and Dan, they gotta be excited to hear that there is another Halfa in our age range that's not related via cloning or time shenanigans! That's gotta be so fun and we can show-"

"Kid, you're rambling again." Jason cut in suppressing a sigh. Cloning? Time shenanigans? What the fuck was he getting into by associating with this kid? "Did anyone ever tell you that you are bad at explaining?"

"My friends and older sister." The kid answered with no delay, like he had been asked that same question before. "Also I am 20."

Jason wished the kid could see how he arched an eyebrow under his helmet. He could have tricked him if he didn't look like a 14 years old. The kid appeared to sense it anyway as they huffed and pouted his way. "I swear I am! My Ghost form is just stuck at looking like the age I died at! I haven't figured out how to manipulate my ectoplasm to make my ghost self look older yet! I swear Dan has been holding this over me for years now!"

"Sure kid, let's just get back to that Halfa thing and what that means for me." Jason didn't know what exactly the kid was nor what the kid meant by Jason apparently being also an Halfa -was it?-, which meant the kid was one in the first place. "By the way, who are you?"

"Oh right! I am Danny Phantom! Nice to meet you Red Hood! And pleases stop calling me a kid! I swear I am not anymore!" Well that was at least a step forward. Now Jason just had to figure out how to get the information he really needed from the kid, Danny, without listening to excessive rambling as well as how to explain just all of this to Bruce and the rest of his siblings. He can already hear them freaking out about it.

No wait, he actually could hear them freak out right now. Oh shit! His coms were on, weren't they? Wait did Dickwing just say ETA 5? And B just said ETA 3! Shit, fuck, damit! His family were on the way and he was not sure if the Halfa Kid, or whatever, would run at the site of them. B would probably scare the shit out of the kid just to get answers.

Well at least, the good thing so far was that the Pit was quiet now and the kid could apparently help him control it and the Pit Rage better.

[genius11rare]

would that mean even the people in Amity are seeing Danyal al Ghul stuff?

There are two things that Damian knows that he knows Father doesn’t.

He has an older brother

He was dead

(And a secret third thing: Damian was glad he was dead. They did not get along.)

Well. No, correction, they were two things that Damian knew that Father didn't. Past tense. Strange magic swirled through the air and created a mirage before his eyes, and immediately a scowl forms across his face.

The mirage shifts and shimmers like the light hitting a slowly turning prism, and then it settles into a memory. One that Damian does not recall. Like looking into a tv screen, it shows, faintly, a room, with most of the magic going into the image of a crib.

His mother was standing on one side, and next to her, standing on his tiptoes was a small five year old boy looking up at her. With dark hair and skin that was only few shades lighter brown than Damian's, the little boy's resemblance to Damian was undeniable.

However, his eyes were blue. Not green. Damian's scowl deepens, and he sinks back. "Danyal." He mutters, and feels eyes turn on to him.

Danyal Al Ghul. Damian's older brother. A prodigal swordsman like Damian, and five years his senior. He'd be fifteen if he was still alive. His memory of the last time he saw his brother was still clear in his mind.

(A sword to Danyal's neck. Stars were glittering through his window. Damian was five, Danyal ten. He is not sure why Danyal had snuck into his room, all he remembers is hearing a sound and on instinct reaching for his sword.)

(His brother had intercepted easily. But had not shoved the sword away. Moonlight hit his blue eyes, and Damian remembers seeing the pupils shrink to let the light in. His eyes looked almost silver.)

(His brother bares his teeth at him. Damian wants to slice his neck more than anything, and he bares his teeth back. "Good." Danyal says, his voice low in a hiss, "Your reflexes are good, little brother.")

("Of course they are," Damian remembers snarling, and presses the sword closer. But it does not budge. "I am an Al Ghul.")

(Something unrecognizable passes through his brother's eyes, and his mouth twists into something like a smile. "I know." He says, and tilts his head downwards at him. "And you will be great.")

(His brother shoves the sword back, causing Damian to stumble. And like the wind, he is gone.)

(The next morning, he goes on a mission with mother and a few others. Mother is the only one to return with Danyal's sword, and a red-eyed look in her eyes. Damian does not mourn. Now there's only one of them.)

"Momma." The little Danyal-mirage speaks, a furrow between his childlike brows as mother lowers a bundle into the crib. His blue eyes watch her, and lifts onto his toes to peer into the crib as she sets the baby down. "Who is this?"

Their mother's hand comes to rest along his back. "This is Damian, my son." She murmurs, voice low. "He is your little brother. Protect him well."

Damian scoffs internally -- not likely. He remembers every spar he ever had with Danyal, every harsh word and insult. His pushing, pushing, pushing for Damian to get up. To try again. Do it again. The only kindness he ever showed him was when his fingers bled. And even that was harsh, firm. Rolling gauze around his wrist and scolding him, telling him how to wield his weapon better.

(It was the same as everyone else, but somehow it hurt worse coming from his own brother.)

But he watches his older brother's youngest self tilt his head to the side, and then reach his chubby hand through the crib's bars. He runs small, blunt fingers over the baby's arm, and the baby jerks. Through the crib's bars, Damian sees himself grab Danyal's fingers.

And he scowls even deeper.

And Danyal's eyes... widen. He lets out a little gasp, and a small smile Damian's never seen him wear tilts at the corner of his mouth as he looks up at their mother. "Mother," he whispers, "he grabbed me!"

Damian... his scowl falters, for a moment.

He doesn't wait for a response, he looks back to the baby with sparking eyes. His expression melts like sugar as he bounces the finger being gripped tight by the small hand. "Hello, little brother." His brother says, voice its of usual firmness, but there's more fondness underlying it than Damian's ever heard. "My name is Danyal."

The mirage shifts before Damian can comprehend his older brother's voice. It shows the crib again, appearing as if a few days had passed. There is night lilting through the nearby window, and a creek of the door. The baby doesn't stir.

Danyal sneaks in, still wearing his training clothes and a sword strapped to his side. Damian's scowl returns, watching him creep over to the crib. Of course -- the last night he saw his brother wasn't the only time he'd snuck into his room.

Would he go so low as to attack an infant? Damian wonders, watching his brother cross the room to his crib. But while his fingers rest against the hilt, they never curl to unsheathe.

His brother peers into the crib again, and there it is again, that smile wider in the corner of his mouth. It's not a full one, but its as uninhibited as it gets. Dripping honey-sweet with awe. "You are so tiny." Danyal whispers, and pokes a finger back through the crib. It wriggles, then pokes Damian's cheek gently. "Was I as small as you when mother gave birth to me?"

There is no response from the baby. Not a coherent one anyways, the little thing snuffles and turns his head, mouth open to latch. Danyal stills, his eyes grow ever wider again.

Danyal says nothing else, just rests his cheek against the crib and watches the baby sleep in silence. The affection never leaves his young face.

Damian feels unsettled. Off-foot. This Danyal is foreign to him... He wonders what happened to have changed his brother's mind on him.

There's a scuffle, quiet, but there. Danyal picks up on it just as Damian does, and his head pricks up like a deer, head already turning away from the crib. The affection leaves his face, falling away like water into something serious. His blade is already slightly unsheathed.

Two assassins, belonging to grandfather, burst out of the shadows. Their swords swinging into the air and ready to strike.

Danyal kills them both, his back to the crib. It's not without struggle, and when the two assassins lay dead on the floor, the baby is wailing at the top of his lungs. Danyal has a laceration cleaving down diagonal of his cheek. It's close to his eye, just barely missed blinding him.

Damian never knew how he got that scar. He does now. (He doesn't know how to feel about it.)

His brother clutches his bleeding face, sheathing his sword as tears well up onto his face. But he turns towards the crib, and hurries over. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay." He hushes rapidly, the League-drilled seriousness fallen away to reveal a panic-stricken five year old. He sticks one hand into the crib, the one not clutching anything, and grabs little Damian's hand.

Their mother comes bursting in that moment, and Danyal turns his head towards her. "Mother." He says, his voice cracks un-wantingly. Their mother steps over the bodies of the assassins easily. "They tried to kill Damian."

"But they did not." Talias says, kneeling down next to the crib to inspect Danyal's face and Damian's well-being. When she finds nothing of concern beyond the injury, she continues. "You killed them before they could, Danyal. Well done."

The mirage of his brother nods, his eyes teary and red.

Damian... is discomfited. he never thought Danyal would kill assassins for him. He would have thought his brother would sooner look the other way. The mirage shifts again, and it quickly shows time passing.

Danyal sits in Damian's nursery every night, after that. He lays at the foot of the crib with his sword, a pillow and a blanket with him. Some nights there is nothing but peace -- or as close to peace as a baby could achieve -- and some days assassins break in.

Danyal kills each one.

The mirage shifts again, and it shows more memories of Danyal interacting with Damian during his youth too young for him to remember. His first steps, his first words.

"Danya." The small toddler of Damian says, arms reaching for Danyal.

A frown curls across Danyal's face, and pulls Damian into his lap. "No, no, little brother." He scolds, voice firm but.. softer. "It is Danyal, Damian. Danyal."

"Danya!"

Damian's brother sighs, but there is that same-small tilt at the corner of his mouth. A glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer... that Damian is finding he recognizes.

(He always thought his brother got that look in his eyes when he was mocking him. Was he wrong?)

The mirage shifts again, and this time it shows only mother and Danyal, alone. Danyal is older, taller. Seven, if Damian had to guess. Mother has a stern look on her face, her hands tight on his shoulders. "Damian will be starting training soon, my son."

Ah, then close to eight then. Training starts, always, at three years old. He watches Danyal nod, his expression mimicking their mother's. His arms are folded, always folded, behind his back, always neat.

"You can no longer have the relationship with your brother as you did before." Mother says.

Danyal's expression... falters. It shifts, it fluctuates. He looks surprised, thrown off. Like he isn't quite sure he heard what mother just said. His brows furrow. "What... do you mean, mother?"

"I mean what I said, Danyal." Mother says, stern, "Ra's will be keeping a closer eye on Damian now that he is of age to begin his training. He will not like if he sees you both getting along."

"I am sorry, my child. But your relationship with Damian ends here. You are rivals now, not brothers." In a cruel form a gentleness, mother raises her hand and tucks a stray curl out of Danyal's face.

Of course. Damian never had a relationship with his brother because of Grandfather. Of course. No, he's not feeling a little bitter. No. There's not an inner child that still, like a candleflame, wishes that he'd had a bond with his only flesh and blood.

Danyal is dead now. So it's not like it matters. He's happy about this.

Danyal frowns, and he steps back. He looks lost in thought. "We are still brothers, mother," he says, argues, and looks up to meet mother's eyes. "Let me train him, I will make sure he gets the skill he needs. If we must be rivals, then I will teach him how to defeat me. If he can defeat me, he can defeat anybody."

Their mother, and Damian, both blink in unison. Then mother smiles something sharp, calculated. She folds her hands behind her back. "Then do it. But you will make him hate you."

"...So be it."

Damian.... Damian is silent. His world axis has been tilted on its head. He is sliding, and sliding, and sliding down. Spinning. Many things click into place at once.

More memories from the mirage show. It shows Danyal training Damian. It shows their arguing, their bickering. It shows Danyal going to their mother to praise Damian and his skills, how fast he is picking up on the sword. How one day he will surpass even him.

It shows Danyal sitting outside Damian's bedroom door every night, listening in for anyone who dares to break in. His knees drawn to his chest, his sword at his side. Sometimes he sneaks in, sword drawn, when he hears a sound.

Some nights, Damian wakes up. He remembers those nights. Danyal standing over his bed with his sword unsheathed and tight at his side. He remembers the instant terror as he immediately reached for his own weapon.

His brother always scolded him for his lack of vigilance. That had he been anyone else, Damian would have had his neck cut. He would've been dead already. It only made Damian's hatred of him grow.

But he understands now. Because there were assassins in the room that Damian, four years old, three, did not notice. Not until later. He always assumed the attacks on him after Danyal's death had been because now there was a new heir to target.

It had been the only lesson he'd been even somewhat grateful for.

Then finally the mirage shimmers, and it shows Danyal, ten years old, in one of the training rooms, mid-spar with Mother. It's fast, sharp, impressive and like a blur. Damian is unsure if at ten which one of them was the better swordsman. Some of the assassins who have never met Danyal said Damian was, but the ones who had said it was Danyal. He'll never know.

In a lull in the fight, when their swords are crossed, mother speaks. "Ra's wants you and Damian to fight." She says, teeth grit into a deep scowl. The cross breaks and Danyal jumps back, he frowns.

"We have fought, mother." He says, and dives in first, swinging for mother's feet. Mother dodges, and slices at his arm. He swerves out of the way, twisting on his feet like a dance. "We are always fighting, doesn't he see our spars?"

"Not a spar like that, my son." Mother says, a snarl in her voice. She lunges, and Danyal blocks her blade. "A fight to the death. Father has grown tired of having two heirs."

That gets Danyal's attention -- or, more accurately, it distracts it. His eyes widen, and his sword lowers for a single moment. A mistake. "What?" Is all he gets out before mother has him on his back, her blade pressed to his throat.

He freezes. As does Damian. Danyal's brows furrow, then unfurrow, only to knot up again. "Mother, what do you mean a fight to the death?" He flips to his feet when mother removes the sword. She walks over to grab her water.

"Must I repeat myself, Danyal?" Mother snaps, rubbing her forehead before swigging from her canteen. "Father wants to find out which one of you is the stronger heir, and so you will fight to the death after your training in a few days."

Danyal's tan face loses a shade of color, he looks ashy. "There must be some mistake!" He exclaims, his arms gesturing out as he peers around mother. "There is a five year disparity between us, Damian has only just started training two years ago. It would be an unfair fight!"

"Do you think me unaware?" Mother whirls on him, and there is a grief-stricken look on her face. Like she is already mourning Damian's death. Damian feels ill. "Your skill is far beyond what Damian can accomplish right now, and there is nothing that I say that can convince Father otherwise."

Danyal wears an expression like he is scrambling for answers. A white knuckle grip on his weapon. There is a long silence, and his lower lip curls up. His throat bobs, he swallows. "Is there really nothing we can do?"

Mother makes a frustrated sound, pushing her loose hairs out of her face. "Not unless Father changes his mind, or I send one of you away. But Father would surely send someone to look for you or Damian."

"What if one of us faked our death?"

Mother stills. As does Damian. No, he thinks, stiff as a rod, no way. These mirages were lying, nothing but figments of an imagination. Of some quiet what-if that Damian had not yet stomped out.

Mother's expression shifts, and then turns contemplative. Danyal notices, and keeps pushing, he looks as hopeful as he could get beyond his usual unwavering, stone-like expression. "One of us could go to father--"

"No." Mother cuts off, voice sharp. Danyal wilts, confusion flittering across his face. Damian, from the corner of his eye, sees Father tense as stone. His white-slit eyes have not left the mirage. Nobody's has.

"Father will undoubtedly check there first, it would not be a good idea. You or Damian will have to go somewhere where he would not think to look. Someone unaffiliated with the League."

Danyal's face falls, shutters, and then closes up again into stone. Mother begins to pace, and Danyal's blue eyes follow her. "So a stranger?" He asks, and there is disgust lilting into his voice.

Mother nods, and she looks just as offput as Danyal.

The mirage of Damian's brother rolls his shoulders back. "Then I will do it, mother." He says, voice unwavering. There is a stubborn note behind it all, one that Damian recognizes. "I will fake my death, and Damian will stay here."

Mother's eyes turn sharp on him, and she stops in her spot. She pivots. "Are you sure?" She asks, eyebrow raising, "There is a chance you will never meet your Father if you leave. Nor will you see I or Damian again, if you do this."

Something like fear flickers across Danyal's face, eyes widening momentarily -- as if that very thought had not crossed his mind. But then it smooths over to sharp determination. He nods. "It would be the same for Damian if it was him instead. I will do it, Mother."

Damian feels ill again. Father has a strong set in his jaw, his teeth grinding.

Mother stares at Danyal, and then her expression softens. And like before, it is grieving. "In a few days time, I and another member of the League will be going on a mission to the American States. I will tell Father that you will accompany me, once there we will dispose of the other member and then orchestrate your death."

The American States. Danyal was here, in the country. He was out there somewhere -- but no this was fake. It had to be. Danyal was dead. A fool who got himself killed on a mission with mother and left the title of Heir to Damian.

Or maybe it had been his plan all along. His and mother's both.

...Was mother ever going to tell him?

The mirage of Danyal nods, sharp. Understanding. There is a gleam in his eyes that is not pride, it is tears. And when Mother leaves the room and leaves him alone, the stone-like expression on his face crumbles and falls.

His brother, ten years old, curls up his lip in an ugly way. It wobbles as the tears in his eyes do, and he brings up his hand to slam it over his mouth. And sinks to his knees, a yell-like sob muffled behind the skin.

His brother, ten years old, looks smaller than Damian remembers him being, and cries.

Damian has never seen Danyal cry. Not once in the mirage of memories, nor in his own.

The memory holds for a minute, and then disappears. And no new one shows up. The magic is gone, and it leaves a silence in its wake. Heavy, staticky, and full of revelations.

So there are two things that Damian knows that his Father now knows too.

He has an older brother

His older brother is alive.

(And a new secret third thing: Damian wasn't sure how to feel about it.)

[mionkings]

Making Heads Turn 🫨

Jason had become a father to a little baby boy, taking him in when he found the poor thing on the streets, in a cardboard box, wrapped in a space themed blanket.

While the obstacles a new parent goes through is tough. He knows it's worth it to have Danny, his baby, his son in his life. He doesn't regret adopting him.

Danny is now at the stage of his little life that he babbles and giggles, Jason always had fun having a conversation with his baby. Although Jason's sure that his hair is getting whiter with the chaos Danny brings now ever since Danny's baby brain realized that he can CRAWL to PLACES >:D

However this new development... is a little strange.

Whenever Jason puts Danny down in his crib to make dinner or any other important errand. Danny will begin to babble to the air, as if his little tyke is trying to talk to someone, making grabbing hands and scooching over to grab someone's attention.

It sent a slight shiver down his spine...

Ever since he made his introduction to Gotham as Red Hood, for the first time to those gang leaders with the bang of the AK-47. Taking over the Gotham underworld by storm with anger and precision.

He always felt a chill down his spine... When he was alone, yet... the Pit Madness flared everytime, making him feel enraged and paranoid. As if he was just waiting for a fight... for a confrontation...

Being alone in his apartment, having nightmares, more like repressed memories of what he had done... Lots of things, but for some reason—his mind... keeps going back to the moment he threw that duffel bag at the table infront of the gang leaders that night... the night he went after the lieutenants, taking their heads.

He doesn't know why.

But ever since the precious cargo that was his baby Danny, arrived in his life. That all went away as he took care, fed, and loved his baby boy.

Jason never had an episode with Danny; he couldn't bare the thought of hurting the child.

Jason was even having less episodes when he was with the Bats!

The chills; however, Jason still feels them occasionally... but they would always disappear the moment Danny would demand attention or to nap.

And instead he would feel something else hang over his baby everytime Danny slept peacefully...

———

Second ever DPxDC prompt that I've ALSO been getting brainrot over ❤️ I'm having fun 😄

Basically this prompt idea is Jason adopting a baby Danny, while seemingly unaware that he's being haunted/watched by the people's he's killed to become a crime lord. More specifically, being haunted by the heads/headless ghosts of the lieutenants Jason killed as Red Hood.

While Jason can't seem to see them, he can feel 'chills' from them. Danny, however, CAN see them mostly because I based this on that thing where babies/toddlers can see spirits in those typical YouTube videos that list ToP 5 ScArY gHOstZ VidEOz!1!1

Whatever happened though, this causes the ghosts to instead focus more on Danny than on Jason.

How much will Jason freak the fuck out when he finds out? Who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Although Danny is absolutely having fun here ^^

Anyways, I might add extra stuff soon to this!

[hyperfixatinator]

There's a lot of fan works portraying ectoplasm as the more potent, pure version of lazarus water. But what if their potency was the other way around?

When Danny was blasted by the portal opening, he should've died. He survived because of the ectoplasm reviving him simultaneously. However, he only half survived. He wasn't fully brought back, resulting in his access to ghost abilities no full mortal should have yet.

I think similar logic could apply to Vlad too, but in the opposite direction. Lazarus water is canonically a substance that both heals the injured and harms the healthy. So if we're saying lazarus water and ectoplasm do similar things, then it explains the difference between Danny and Vlad's accidents.

The ectoplasm healed Danny because he was mortally wounded by a barrier between worlds tearing open with him inside. Meanwhile, the ectoplasm harmed Vlad because he wasn't injured while exposed (at worst he got some soda in his eye), leaving him bedridden for years.

Both are halfas, but Danny was half revived and Vlad was half killed.

With this in mind, lazarus water being the stronger of the two makes sense. People healed by it get little or no ghost characteristics because they've been fully revived. It's a lot harder for someone in that state to gain powers exclusive to the dead/undead. Pit madness? A symptom of ectoplasmic overdose, which happens easily since it's often the whole body getting submerged in the stuff instead of just the effected area. The headcanon that repeated lazarus water exposure makes you more liminal with each use? It's the body slowly building up a resistance and leaving the user slightly less alive every time. (Ra's would've had to have been pretty close to halfa status by the time he last died if that's the case.)

Lazarus water is frequently referred to as the sewage or rotten leftovers of ectoplasm, but it looks like ectoplasm itself is actually weaker by comparison.

[radiance1]

Damian landed with a small thud in the alleyway, standing up and walking forward while unsheathing his blade. It drew an elegant arc in the air, before it tips was placed at another's throat, forcing them to tilt their head upwards to avoid injury. "What do you think you are doing here?"

Eyes were peeled open slowly, and the wheezy that filled the alleyway took on a more amused edge. "I don't know, why do you think I'm here," Danny tried to tilt his head, before stopping with a wince and a sharp intake. "Can't I just visit my big bro, from time to time?"

Damian tilted his head slightly, eyes roaming over the various wounds over his brother's body and the amount of ectoplasm on the ground around him, before leaving Danny with the most unimpressed look he could make. Danny chuckled wetly, before devolving into a coughing fit, then smiling wryly. "Heh, ya got me I guess."

"Tt." Damian lowered his blade, enough for Danny to no longer have to strain his head upwards. "What brought you to this state, Daniel? Those inventors you keep around are certainly brilliant, but incompetent." Damian's eyes narrowed. "So who."

"Yea, wasn't them. Can't really do that when you're blown to smitheries, right?" Danny chuckled humorlessly, before falling silent with a pained wheeze. His head threatened to fall downwards, and his eyelids drooped. A slight press against his neck snapped him back into the waking world. "Right, right. Okay so, would you believe me if I said that a," Danny swallowed. "A government branch is currently chasing me after they found out about my half-dead status?"

Damian stared silently, then sighed. "I'm not surprised, you always were an idiot." Danny puffed up his cheeks indignantly. "Hey! It wasn't my fault this time!"

"Whatever you say, Daniel." Damian pressed the tip of his sword further against Danny's throat. "That still does not explain why you came here, of all places."

"Amity Park's compromised for me, and well." Danny gave a half shrug, or at least tried too before wincing. "This is one of the last places they would look, and I'm too," Danny gesture to himself. "You know, to go for another fly."

Damian nodded. "I can see that." Damian dissected Danny with his eyes, taking in his injuries, his ruined outfit, the blood running down his face over one of his eyes.

Hm.

Damian let out an annoyed sigh, before twirling his sword away from Danny's neck and putting it back into its sheathe. He lifted the edge of his cape. "Get in before I regret this."

Danny blinked in surprised confusion. "What?"

Damian scowled. "Get. In." He flapped the edge of his cape for emphasis, and Danny blinked again, before suddenly being hit with a wave of understanding. "Oh, oh! Really?"

"I will not be repeating myself for a third time."

"Aw! I knew you cared about me!" Danny flew into Damian's cape, leaving a trail of ectoplasm behind in his flight that was quickly taken hold of by gravity and splattered against the ground.

Damian pulled a face, because he already felt like he regretted doing this.

"Robin, where are you?" His father's voice coming from his comm snapped him from his regret. He jumped onto a nearby pipe and flipped himself up onto one of the buildings, gritting his teeth in annoyance as Danny clapped with his cape. He glanced back at the alleyway, before turning.

"On my way, father." And just like that, he was out into the night with one extra (annoying) passenger.

[friendlynaborhooddisapointment]

yk what im thinking? the fentons are 100% crazy enough to be Waynes. so what if they were? Jack could be Thomas Waynes' great-grandfather's brother who lived at Wayne Manor with his wife and kids. and they still open the portal with danny in it, so hes still a halfa. but either Jack and Maddie find out and they stick him in a stasis tube to try and fix him (what if they were also the people who figured out how to make the court of owls dead guys????) or Danny got stuck in the portal when he went inside and it doesnt open until the bats find it.

when the bats find him im thinking either they know (as well as danny) that hes half dead (the stasis tube) or they dont (stuck in the portal) and they find out all the fun stuff together. but, if they know hes dead already and so did danny there could be more creepy ghost shenanigans that could happen before they found the laboratory. which is v important

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Don't Mix

Danny was super excited. He was going to meet his favorite vigilante today. He'd met so many other heroes - even his favorite, Martian Manhunter - but now he was going to meet the anti-hero vigilante Red Hood. He was practically vibrating on the kitchen island in mount justice from how excited he was.

"D-1 Red Hood" the announcement rang loud enough for Danny to catch it with his enhanced hearing.

Bolting up, Danny raced to the zeta entrance to meet the newly arrived vigilante. He stopped and stared at the man. He was taller than he'd expected. A thread of trepidation started nagging at him at the back of his mind.

"Hi! I'm Phantom! It's really cool to meet you!" Danny said cheerfully, floating over to shake his hands. The feeling got stronger the closer he got to the other until it was practically a roaring screech to get away.

"Hey," Red Hood replied, shaking Danny's hand.

Then, all Danny could see and feel changed from what was happening to how he'd died and come back to life. It felt worse than he remembered. The full force of electricity and two dimensions ripping a hole in both Danny and the dimensions while simultaneously stitching back together wrong. He didn't know how long it would take for the portal to spit him back out.

~

Jason, meanwhile, was going through something similar. He was drowning in bright toxic green, struggling to escape. It burned. It was going to re-kill him if he didn't get out quick enough. He couldn't breathe

~

Dick was just stepping out of the zeta beam when he heard two screams in front of him. He took quick stock of his surroundings before determining that there wasn't anyone bleeding. There were just two screaming boys to deal with and no idea what the problem was.

Dick rushed to separate them and asked, "What's wrong? What happened? Are you two ok?"

They stopped screaming and started taking labored breaths, shuffling away from each other.

What in the world happened before he got there?

~

Note: The idea here is that ecto and lazarus water doesn't mix very well and react very violently when forced into contact. Lazarus water isn't ecto in any form, they just do not like each other. Like how hydrogen peroxide and bleach don't like each other. What happened above is that that explosive reaction caused them to relive the moment the ecto and lazarus fused with them.

Fun question to take away from the angst I might have just caused: What would happen if you took this idea and turned it into a fun science experiment for any number of our lovely mad scientists? (Whether it's just experimenting with samples of ecto and lazarus water or human experimentation is up to you.)