Short DPXDC Prompts #794

I have done a brief yandere Damian post in the past, it is now time for the next best boy.

Yandere! Tim x Danny

Tim loved watching the sun setting over the skyline of the city buildings. He loved watching the reds, the purples and blues blending until finally the night encased Gotham entirely.

He loved watching the hurried steps of strangers as they maneuvered around packed crowds through worn streets. Or small groups slipping through dirty alleys where clinging shadows whisked them away to disappear into the ever-present smog of Gotham.

He loved pacing across rooftops, quiet feet leading him from ledge to ledge so that he could peer over the edge and see the world from above.

From that point of view he could see everything and anything, the same as he had done when he was younger and chasing a man dressed as a bat and a boy adorned in reds and yellows rushed through the air with gleeful laughter.

Even now as a vigilante, named as Red Robin, the results were the same.

Tim loved people watching.

And Tim loved watching Danny the most.

Danny was different from Gotham and its people.

He was softer and warmer — a flame that crackled and flickered amongst the coldness and wariness of this city that Tim has known all his life.

Danny with skin as pale as moonlight, whose touch was as soft as a feather kiss because all he had ever known were cruel hands and tight grips. Danny with eyes filled to the brim with stars of beautiful blue that shimmered with delight, because he had never been taught to wrap himself up in masks and placid words just to get by. Danny with a smile that barely pulled up on sharp fangs because Danny always felt guilty when people would flinch at the sight of his too animalistic teeth.

Danny, Danny, Danny, Danny Danny DannyDannyDannydannydannydanny —

Tim loved watching Danny as much as he loved Danny himself.

The boy whose heart beat unsteadily, and whose heart ceased functioning when black hair turned white.

This is who he loved.

And Tim hated nothing more than when the things he loved were hurt.

Danny didn’t understand.

He was different.

He was soft.

He was damaged.

He didn’t understand the harm that came with a heart that still pumped blood in sluggish and tired bursts. He didn’t understand the harm that came when his heart fell abruptly still, cold and empty as blue eyes turned green and black hair turned white.

He did not understand the harm that came with pale skin bruised by larger hands, both young and old.

Danny didn’t understand how much harm truly came upon him from the threats within this world. Threats that not only existed in his rogues, but by ordinary, simple humans.

The harm that can exist from fellow students, from neighbors, from the GIW, and his fucking p a r e —

Danny didn’t understand.

He was different.

He was soft.

Even when physical abuse and emotional abuse littered across Danny’s flesh and sensitive ears like poison on open wounds. Even when he became Phantom, a lost soul on the brink between living and dead, who tried so hard to protect.

Even for people who didn’t deserve it.

Tim had never known someone as stubborn as Danny.

But Tim loved that about him too.

Tim loved the sheer determination to be good. To be kind… .

It was heroic. It was Danny.

And just as Tim had done, once upon a time when dogging the steps of Batman whose mourning bled into violence, Tim did what he had to.

He did what he had to.

Ghost of a Chance

Gotham was not a city known for its kindness. Rain slicked the alleyways like a second skin, and shadows crept where sunlight dared not linger. Alfred Pennyworth had seen a great many things in this city. Muggers, monsters, and masked madmen were just part of the nightly routine. What he hadn't expected, however, was to be saved by a ghost.

Or something very much like one.

It was supposed to be a quick errand—a quiet evening walk to clear his head. But halfway down Burnside, three desperate men with more bravado than brains cornered him. Alfred had been ready to disarm the first and disable the second, but he never got the chance. A blur of white and black swooped in, accompanied by the distant, bone-deep hum of unnatural power. The muggers were down in seconds—one frozen to the wall, another knocked out cold, and the third suspended midair by a glowing hand that flickered green.

The boy was there and gone just as fast. Alfred barely had time to register the tattered hoodie, the hollow cheeks, the white hair and green eyes that didn’t seem quite human.

"Wait—!" Alfred had called, but the boy was already gone, melting into the shadows like smoke.

The encounter would’ve ended there—just another strange chapter in Gotham’s nightbook—if it hadn’t kept happening.

Twice more, the mysterious young man appeared. Once to stop a purse snatcher near the theater. Another time to drag a lost child out of a crumbling building during a fire. Always fast, always silent. Always gone before Alfred could properly speak to him.

And always too thin.

It was the kind of thin that spoke of long nights without food. Hollow cheeks, knobby elbows, a belt cinched too tight around jeans that barely stayed up. It reminded Alfred of the early days—of Dick, of Jason, of Tim, of Damian. Of boys who had learned to survive instead of live.

Alfred Pennyworth had a rule: no one went hungry on his watch.

And so began his campaign.

At first, it was subtle. A wrapped sandwich left behind after one of the ghost-boy’s heroic appearances. A thermos of hot tea left conveniently near a rooftop perch. A backpack, clean and durable, filled with protein bars and fresh socks. Most of it vanished, though Alfred never saw it happen.

Then came the note, scrawled in messy, tired handwriting:

“Thanks. You didn’t have to. I’m not sticking around though. It’s safer for you if I don’t.”

The next day, Alfred left a response tucked in the same spot:

“You are not a danger, young man. I’ve seen far worse, and fed far worse. If you insist on continuing your streak of rooftop chivalry, I insist you do so on a full stomach.”

He added a slice of quiche. It was gone by morning.

Bruce raised an eyebrow the first time he caught Alfred baking two loaves of banana bread instead of one. Tim said nothing when the supply order mysteriously included a half dozen extra protein shakes and thermal gloves in medium size. Damian made a snide comment—something about stray ghosts haunting the pantry—but Alfred didn’t dignify it with a reply.

Then came the night it changed.

A patrol gone wrong. Batman caught in a collapsing parking garage. The comms went dead. Nightwing was too far. Red Hood was tracking Penguin. The only one nearby—untraceable, unregistered, and undeniably powerful—was the boy Alfred had been feeding for weeks.

He left the beacon on the rooftop.

“Help him. Please. –A.P.”

Within minutes, Bruce stumbled through the Batcave entrance, soot-smudged and breathing, but alive. Behind him, almost hidden in the shadows, was the boy. White hair. Green eyes. Shivering slightly, but still on his feet.

“I didn’t do it for favors,” the boy said. His voice was hoarse, too young for his haunted face. “I just... couldn’t let him die.”

“I know,” Alfred said gently. “Which is precisely why the offer of dinner still stands.”

“…I shouldn’t.” But his eyes drifted toward the warm lights of the manor beyond the cave, toward the smell of fresh bread and something sweet baking in the oven.

“No one escapes me forever, dear boy,” Alfred said with a small smile. “Not even slippery ghosts.”

The boy stared at him for a long moment. Then finally, like a candle burning out, he sagged.

“…Okay. Just for tonight.”

“Of course,” Alfred said, already turning toward the kitchen. “We’ll start with soup.”

Behind him, the boy whispered a name like an afterthought—like something long buried finally being said aloud.

“Danny. My name’s Danny.”

“Well then, Master Danny,” Alfred said, with the same fondness he reserved for all his wayward sons, “welcome home.”

Prompt: Danny goes to Gotham U for college. Whether or not it’s for engineering he has a tinkering habit when not busy with homework. He is also quite broke and doesn’t want to start dismantling the coffee machine in boredom. Slightly sleep deprived he goes around Gotham and unknowingly dismantles many of Joker’s traps. Including the ones that are supposed to go off if his heartbeat stops.

DP x DC

Cackling filled the air, along with the sound of a blade slicing through the air. The whistle it made could drive you just as crazy as listening to the cackling.

Danny wasn’t sure why the man was laughing. Nothing around him was particularly funny. Blood spatters covered the cracked asphalt at Danny’s feet. Blood dripped off of his body, none of it his own.

Danny’s fingers twirled, repositioning the scythe he held, to rest on his shoulder. He surveyed the scene before him, a frown tugging down his lips.

People were standing along the streets, phones up, mouths hanging open. All of them were staring.

I didn’t think people could really see reapers. Danny mused, cackling cutting off as he studied those studying him.

It had been a few hundred years since everyone he knew had died peacefully of old age. Danny, having lived a fulfilled life, entered the Ghost Zone, prepared to be the new King, when Clockwork had merely smirked at him, eyes fond.

“What do you mean I have to serve as a reaper of souls first?”

Clockwork had been very insistent this was the way of things, but Danny was half-convinced he was making it up as he went.

Whatever gets the best timeline, I suppose. Danny looked out at the gathered crowd, then down at the twisted form below him.

“Jack Oswald White, you have been judged of sending those before their time, to the Realms Eternal. You have been found guilty of your crimes. With this slash, I, High King Phantom, Reaper of Souls, sentence you to the Nightmare Realm to be tormented until the end of Time.” Raising the scythe, Danny prepared to send the soul where it belonged.

“Wait!” A man stumbled forward through the crowd. A few people screamed as he broke through the ring, turning and running. The man was built, but what caught Danny’s eye, was the tuft of white hair on his forehead, and the feeling of death that hung around him. The domino mask was also eye-catching, but more background noise.

He stood before Danny and the condemned, drinking in the sight of the bloody man, like someone whom had been lost in the desert.

“Okay, go ahead. I just. I needed to see it.” The man puffed, domino-white eyes wide in anticipation. “Don’t worry, the other bats won’t come and ruin it. I took care of that.”

Danny cocked his head, feeling something humming in the air now that the man had settled in. The humming was bloodlust. Everyone here was eager to see this man die.

It was more than a little startling since Danny had never been seen before as the Reaper. It was more startling since most people who saw him screamed and ran away. What is wrong with these people? Where am I again? Gotham? Well the name seems to fit at least. Danny mused, before he nodded, and brought the scythe down.

*

Jason wanted to scream. Not in the “oh I’ve been hurt” or even “I’m so mad I could fill a bag with heads!” way, but the excitement, the primal feeling welling up within him didn’t want to be contained.

Oracle had reported some kind of public execution near Crime Alley. She hadn’t been able to confirm who it was for, nor who was doing it. All the cameras were bugging out in the area it was happening. Since Jason had been closest, he had managed to get there first.

In the middle of a massive crowd —and wasn’t that odd? Most people ran away from stuff like this— could just be seen an ethereal being floating above their heads. The being looked like someone about Jason’s age, but their skin glowed with an unearthly blue, and their hair, the color of starlight, moved in a way that contradicted the wind whipping everyone’s coats. The being was clad in black robes, the folds of which showed either constellations or a swirling green void that made something in Jason’s chest tighten.

And they held a massive scythe.

As Jason got closer, he heard the manic laughing, and froze.

The Joker.

Pushing through the crowd, heart hammering, Jason knew he had to— he had to do what? Save the Joker?

His earpiece made a high-pitched squeal as he broke through the crowd and saw the Joker’s body on the ground, scythe poised to finish the job.

The shriek that filled the air as the soul was sent to the Nightmare Realm, something inside Jason seemed to crack. The Reaper, High King Phantom as he had called himself, looked at Jason, and the crack felt like it wasn’t there.

I need to talk to him.

Magic Mirror

Summary: A magic mirror shows what a person desires most in the world. It shows Damian his twin standing next to him. Word Count: 1202

“Come on Damian, all you have to do is stand in front of it.” Dick pleaded with him while gesturing for him to step closer to the magic mirror they had recently obtained from a villain’s lair. 

It was a rather plain mirror as well for being a rare magical item; nothing but a full length mirror with a simple black frame. The only interesting thing about it was that it had the ability to show what a person desired most in life when they stood in front of it. 

Once that little trick was discovered the others had quickly jumped at the chance to stand in front of it. Which was foolish in Damian’s opinion; allowing everyone in the room to view your deepest desire. 

“Tt, I think not Richard; I after all already know what the mirror will show me.There is no point in me standing in front of it.” 

Before Dick can continue his beseeching his case though Jason cuts in from across the room; next to the mirror. “Oh yeah? What do you think would show up, Demon brat; you dressed up as Batman?” 

“He wishes,” Tim snickers next to Jason, “It’s probably gonna be something embarrassing and that’s why he doesn’t want to do it.” 

"Drake, if you know what's good for you you'll stop talking!"

Tim gives Jason a nudge with his elbow before loudly whispering, "That sounds like a conformation if I've ever heard one." 

"Tt, how dare-" Damian is quickly cut off from his incoming tirade by Dick jumping back into the conversation.

"Okay! Let's not start arguing with one another." Dick says to all of them before directing his focus towards him, "Damian, if you really don't want to try out the mirror you don't have too. No one is going to force you to." 

Damian merely rolls his eyes as he walks towards the mirror. The only reason he does so is because being Robin is what he desires the most; he knows it. Looking into the mirror will merely be about proving Drake and Todd wrong. "I'll do it Richard if only to shut these two imbeciles up." 

The moment he stood in front of the mirror waiting for the magic to change the reflection Damian knew that he shouldn't have let Tim and Jason get to him. He had done something foolish and there was no going back now as the mirror swirls with a gold shimmer. 

When the distorted image clears once more Damian swears he feels his heart stop. The reflection shown is not one a million years could have prepared him for. It is not him standing at his father's side, Batman and Robin, as he thought it would have been. 

Instead it shows Damian exactly as he is at the moment. He would almost think the mirror didn't change anything if it weren't for the boy in the mirror standing next to him. Even after all these years it was someone he would never be able to forget. 

His twin brother, Danyal, and him standing side by side once more. While Damian stands rigid and shocked, Danyal's posture is relaxed. He's even smiling as he leaning towards him until their shoulders touch in the reflection.

He doesn't feel it though; he wants to feel it. 

All of a sudden it hits Damian that this is what he desires the most out of everything in the world. The only thing he wants is for his brother to be alive and with him at the manor. With the family Danyal not got the chance to know; the family that doesn't even know he exists. 

In the blink of an eye the magical gold swirls take over the mirror once more, and when it clears it is once again just himself looking back at him. 

After what must be an eternity of staring at the mirror Damian realizes that everything around him is too quiet. He snaps his head to the side where his brothers are, and sees the three of them staring back at him. All of them are in varying degrees of shock and curiosity at what they had just seen. 

He considers lying at first. Saying that he had no idea who the boy was. He can't find it in himself to do that though. Damian had kept his brother a secret long enough; maybe it would be good for the others to know. "That Richard was my twin brother; Danyal." 

With those words Damian practically collapses on the nearest chair; feeling drained and exhausted. The others follow suit as they too take seats next to him. 

"Danyal … Danyal was kind. He understood people much more than I ever will." He takes a deep breath, "He was smart and curious. Always asking questions and wanting to understand everything around him. It was always the stars that fascinated him the most."

"Sounds like a good kid," Jason starts, "must have gotten all the friendly genes in the womb."

"For once I think I agree with you, Todd." 

The silence that follows is thick and suffocating. It is luckily broken after a few seconds by Tim's hesitant question, "What happened to him?"

That was the big question wasn't it? What happened to Danyal; to the twin and brother that wasn't with him when he arrived at the manor?

"Danyal … died a couple years before I came here. The two of us were attacked by a group of rogue assassins after our study lessons." Damian swallows, his throat feels tight, "I wasn't as focused as I should have been, and Danyal ended up taking a fetal hit meant for me."

"Damian-" 

"Let me finish, Richard." He snaps. He doesn't think he would be able to finish if otherwise interrupted. "Danyal was dead by the time he was finally brought to the pits. I knew there was a chance it wouldn't work, but I didn't think it would take him completely. His body was never recovered from the pits.I never got to bury my brother." 

It's when his vision starts to blur that Damian realizes that he's crying. Danyal always did have a way of making Damian show emotions that he would rather keep hidden.

He feels himself being pulled into a chest, and for now he doesn't fight against it. Damian's not sure if he honestly could at the moment. 

“Father doesn’t know about this.” Damian continues after a few minutes of silently sobbing in Dick’s arms. 

“He needs to know.” Tim states, “Maybe not today, but soon.” 

“You tell him when you’re ready, short stack. The old man can deal with not being told right away.” Jason reassures him when he doesn’t answer Tim right away. 

"What am I not being told?" Damian feels as if he's been dunked in water when he realizes that his Father had heard the end of their conversation. 

"Father."

"Damian?" Bruce takes in his youngest son's appearance and it doesn't take a genius to know that he's in some kind of emotional distress.Which in of itself is very rare for him to be in.

"Father, please take a seat. There is something I need to tell you." 

Phantom of the Manor

AKA "The Batfam unintentionally start giving ritual offerings to the Phantom. Danny, who's been mistaken as the Phantom of the Opera, is wondering why his hoodie pockets are full of tomato slices??" prompt idea!

Headcanon that Ghosts become more powerful the more people believe in them, kind of like deities. Danny's never really had to deal with the whole "ritualistic sacrifices to Bloody Mary" or "superstitious prayers against Davey Jones" because Phantom is a Hafta. Danny doesn't need people to believe in him or worship him.

So, he's never gotten a ritual offering before.

Which is why he's absolutely baffled when he shoves his hand into his hoodie pocket to grab his phone and feels something... squishy. And cold. Both Sam and Tucker scream as Danny jolts to his feet with a squeamish shriek. He damn near Goes Ghost as he tries to tear off his hoodie, regardless of the staring mall-walkers. Danny finally manages to fling the hoodie onto their table, scrambling to Sam and Tucker's sides, trying to breath through a panicked: "There'ssomethinginmypocket!!"

Sam carefully pokes around until she finds... squished tomato slices? They're oily and salted like a tomato caprese without the cheese. Which is an interesting choice for a snack. You'd think Danny would at least use a Ziplock bag or something?

("Ancients! Of course, I didn't put them there, Sam!")

Fast-forward a couple of weeks. Danny's going insane because why the hell are there tomatoes literally everywhere? Every couple of days (or hours, depending on the day), he finds different types of tomatoes all over the place. In bed when he wakes up. In his jean pockets at school. Even in the shower, he'll be blindly trying to find the shampoo bottle and come across a handful of grape tomatoes. He can't. Handle. It. Anymore. Danny's going to become the "Tomato Man" at school from how often he randomly pulls out tomatoes from his pockets. Like he needs another reason for Dash to mock him.

The last straw was when Danny was Full Ghost and felt something... itchy in his suit. He knew before he saw it. Danny tentatively pulled the sleeve of his suit open, silently praying that it wasn't what he thought it was, and- yeah. There's V-8 smeared from his goddamn elbow to wrist. He had to fight with tomato juice in his suit for several hours. And that's it; Danny literally can't take it anymore. He goes to Frostbite, begging the Yeti to help him with his Tomato Problem.

Only to be told he's receiving offerings. Which are apparently incredibly sacred and should be appreciated. (It'd be easier to appreciate if it was, like, cash or something. Maybe a Nintendo Switch. Instead, his patrons are worshipping him by offering... tomatoes. Great.)

So, clearly, the only option is to go straight to the source (i.e., his patrons) and tell them to Fucking Stop Giving Me Tomatoes. The next time he feels something weighty in his pocket (gross!), he follows the thready connection of his worshippers through a portal.

And Danny steps out in his full Ghost Regalia (because clearly they're worshipping Phantom, right? So Danny can't exactly show up in ripped jeans and his favorite NASA hoodie). The family sits at a dinner table... which is a little weird, since he'd expected an altar or something. But even weirder is the beady, predatory that look borderline-violent staring at him from everybody at the table. There's an uncomfortable silence more tense than dinners at Vlad's mansion.

Then, Danny carefully scoops out the soupy, baked grape tomatoes from his pocket and dumps them on the table. He doesn't wait for them to question it, just points to the tomatoes and says, "I appreciate the offerings, really, but it's gotta stop. It's gross. I have to wash tomato juice out of my clothes every day. If you're gonna leave an offering, no. More. Tomatoes. Please."

The oldest man seems jolted out of his stupor.

"Excuse me, but could you please explain why you've come to our home?" The man asks cordially. (As if Danny couldn't see him carefully gripping his steak knife like a throwing dart. And that's just rude, honestly. Danny was invited.)

"Uh, I'm Phantom? You literally give me offerings every day. Again, I appreciate it, I never thought I'd have diehard fans, but I don't even really like tomatoes. I mean, they're fine in salsa and stuff, but even I won't eat pocket-tomatoes."

"I believe there may be a misunderstanding. We don't worship a deity named Phantom nor have we left any offerings." The oldest says. He seems like he's about to continue when one of the black-haired adults interrupts him with a nervous, "Uh, B? About that..."

So. Yeah. It turns out Dick Grayson and Jason Todd forced the family to watch Phantom of the Opera, which spawned the joke of offering any food they don't like (i.e., tomatoes) to "the Phantom" (i.e., their trashcan). More than half the family doesn't like tomatoes and Alfred uses it as a punishment for breaking something, overworking, etc. They'd gotten pretty sneaky about scraping their leftovers into the bin but had gotten into a habit of saying "this one's for the Phantom, a treat for the Phantom," or something incredibly stupid like that.

Danny's just... a little relieved, honestly? Because he's literally fifteen and wouldn't really know what to do with followers if he had them. Plus, now he doesn't have to worry about waking up with tomatoes in his bed or making excuses for all his tomato-hoarding while at school. (Which was not necessarily the right thing to mention to Bruce "Serial Adopter" Wayne. Practically the whole table turned to stare at Bruce when Danny mentioned he's apparently an underage deity, waiting for Bruce to sweep in with a well-executed, "Well, it's getting late. Why don't you stay the night?" Because Bruce apparently can't help himself from collecting another black-haired, blue-eyed kid.)

DCxDP Prompt #5

For the bit(we’ll be cultists)

When Danny won the title of Ghost King, he wasn’t expecting some of his more ghostly attributes to seep over into his human form.

Or to be unable to control his powers like at all for a month or two after gaining his new title.

He’s still 14-15 though and has to be in Highschool to make sure his grades don’t fall any further. Even if he did just save the town with only his piers in his grade know about him.

It’s no surprise when he accidentally walks through a door after trying to open it only to find himself intangible or to start floating away with no way to control it and need one of his classmates to save him from floating into the stratosphere.

It’s all fine for a while, people help him. Those who used to bully him now lend a hand when he needs it. They aren’t kind about it but they aren’t shoving him into lockers anymore.

But that doesn’t last.

People start to notice the strange things that keep happening as his powers grow and become harder and harder to hide even with help. He had made an entire class take place on the ceiling one day. Another he made half the town float.

The Fenton parents and the GIW start working together to figure it out. It’s only a matter of time if no one does anything

So what is Danny, his friends and his class going to do to hide the real reason of what’s going on?

They pretend to be a cult. Full on cartoonishly cult like. The chanting, the robes, the sneaking out to an old building on the edge of town to have a ritual kind of cult. Playing off Danny’s fluctuating powers as the results of their work.

This gets the opposition to back off a bit. Not their circus not their monkeys. And the rituals release some of Danny’s pent up power.

Danny just had to lay in a circle, surrounded by the faces of friends and classmates while they chant and his powers gets released a little at a time.

It’s a great deal.

Until Danny is found out one day unable to use the cult as an excuse and has to bounce out of town. And the rest of his Casper High Class, ever committed to the bit, follow him since the GIW and the Fentons are laying waste to the town and it’s just not safe.

Where do they go?

To the Crime Capital of the world of course!

Gotham is the perfect place to continue the bit. Their ‘cult’ runs all the way to Gotham, looking out for one another and the such. Not because they care about each other, of course.

They all tell themselves that but there’s only so much chanting in ghost speak and Latin a frenemy relationship can take.

They are tight knit by time they settle in a collection of old buildings on the edge of Gotham. Danny’s powers are starting to settle, but he still has bad days. Those days the cult gathers and ‘performs a ritual’ but really they just have a little get together, sitting in a big room set up with a circle with Danny laying and meditating in the middle and chat in Latin or Ghost speak.

For the bit, they preform a fake ritual. Headed by Sam since she has all the knowledge on what cults do. For the bit, the give offerings to Danny in exchange for him protecting them both back in Amity and in Gotham. For the bit, they make it a monthly thing or as needed.

Sure Danny doesn’t realize he’s given each of his friends and classmates blessing from a literal King of Gods and Beings Beyond Human Comprehension.

It was for the bit.

What wasn’t for the bit was getting caught by the local furries.

Danny hadn’t had a ritual in a month, his powers were building up but he was stressed with work and school.

His cult of friends decided he needed a ritual and pseudo-kidnap him to sacrifice his own power to himself.

Don’t ask them, it just works.

Mid ‘ritual’ Danny is trapped in the circle while they keep his powers contained as it’s released. He could destroy the building if he so much as blinks. They are nearly through with it. Can return to the party after they’re done and he’s ‘normal’ again.

So when the Bat and Co. crash the ritual, right before the end. Danny can’t do anything while his classmates both defend him, each other, and those trying to finish the ritual.

It’s looking bad but the ritual finishes. Danny is freed from the circle and starts helping his friends defend themselves and escape. Of course, he knows what this looks like. And he knows that the Bats and Birds are just trying to keep their own city safe from a perceived threat.

So he apologizes to them while he takes down the Bats and Birds then absconds with his Cult&Co. hoping they would understand. No one was hurt and there was no loss on either side. Alls well ends well?

To the Bats and Birds.

They find a group of robed cultists that established themselves quickly and then they see the cult gather, having a party until another group come in dragging Adoption Bait behind them. They start the ritual. Bats and Co. think kid is getting sacrificed and step in. Only to be nearly fought off and the ritual to complete.

They then have to watch as some entity controls the kids body to fight them off. The kid looks terrified, apologizing while he is forced to fight for the cult.

Then they all get away.

(I have the flu, have this lil idea/drabble while I try not to die)

PHANTOM OF THE BATCAVE: A MUSICAL EPIC

There can only be one brother extras 5 - 25 + bonus parts

(Gotham City. Night. The Bat-Signal shines as the Bats gather on a rooftop. Suddenly—*music swells.)

OPENING NUMBER: "WHO’S THAT (GHOST) GUY?"

(The Batfamily spots Danny for the first time. Suspicion! Drama! Jazz hands!)

DICK: (dramatic spin) "Who’s that guy who caught Damian mid-air? Who’s that guy with the white-streaked hair? He’s too calm, it’s not fair— WHAT’S HIS DEAL, DOES HE CARE?!"

BATFAMILY (harmonizing): "WHO’S. THAT. GUYYYYY?!"

(Danny, oblivious, eats a sandwich in the background.)

DAMIAN’S SOLO: "TT (THE MUSICAL)"

(A furious, Broadway-worthy lament about his failed assassinations.)

DAMIAN: "Tt, tt, tt— I stabbed him twice and he called it ‘cute’! Tt, tt, tt— Now I’m perched here like some kind of brute! Grayson weeps, Father broods— BUT HE JUST RUFFLED MY HAIR AND I DIDN’T SHOOT!"

(Ellie appears out of nowhere to join the chorus.)

ELLIE: "WELCOME TO THE CLUB, KID, IT’S FUN BEING HIS!"

VILLAIN DUET: "JOKER’S LAMENT / WHY SO SPOOKY?"

(Joker and Riddler mourn their ruined chaos.)

JOKER: "I set a trap! It was brilliant! Then shadows moved and now I’m silent! WHO LET THE DEAD KID NEAR MY VIOLENCE?!"

RIDDLER: (sobbing) "He answered my riddle… WITH ANOTHER RIDDLE!"

(Harley Quinn tap-dances through the background, entirely unbothered.)

ROMANTIC BALLAD: "ALFRED’S TEA TIME (WITH THE UNDEAD)"

(Alfred serves tea to Danny, who is half-merged with the manor’s walls.)

ALFRED: "Earl Grey or ectoplasm, dear boy? The poltergeists prefer the chamomile blend…

DANNY: (floating upside down) "You’re amazing— Can I keep you? (Legally, I mean. Ghost laws are weird.)"

SHOW-STOPPER: "THERE CAN ONLY ONE (REPRISE)"

(Ellie and Damian lead a full choreographed fight on the rooftops, complete with backflips and glowing swords.)

ELLIE & DAMIAN: "THERE CAN ONLY ONE! (But also two!) THERE CAN ONLY ONE! (But sibling bonds count too!)"*

(Danny watches from below, eating popcorn.)

DANNY: (yelling) "USE YOUR WORDS, GUYS!"*

ELLE & DAMIAN: (in unison, mid-sword clash) "NO!"

FINAL NUMBER: "WE’RE ALL A LITTLE DEAD INSIDE"

(The entire cast joins in—Bats, Rogues, even Clockwork pops in for a verse.)

BATFAMILY: "Gotham’s dark, the nights are long— But with a ghost, it’s kind of fun!"

ROGUES: (grudgingly) "Fine, we’ll stop the crime… (…Until he leaves town.)"

DANNY: (grinning, arms wide) "FACE IT, GUYS— YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME! I’M DEAD, I’M WEIRD, AND FAMILY’S FREE!"

(The Bat Signal shines. Confetti falls. Somewhere, Bruce sighs—but he’s smiling.)

CURTAIN CALL.

ENCORE: (Because you demanded it.)

BONUS TRACK: "DANNY VS. SANTA (HOLIDAY REMIX)"

(Featuring actual sleigh chases and elf backup dancers.)

SANTA: "YOU’RE ON THE NAUGHTY LIST— YOUR GIFTS ARE MIST!"

DANNY: (dodging candy cane shurikens) "YOU STOLE MY COOKIES, OLD MAN— TIME TO SETTLE THIS!"

(Ellie and Damian ride a ghost reindeer through the chorus.)

It's a few years after AGIT and Danny's off to college! Gotham City University specifically.

Things are going well, he's going for a mechanical engineering degree. Sam and Tucker are around and when they're not too busy they meet up, he's even making friends outside of the Amity social-circle. He works as a medium to pay his bills and, surprise-surprise bringing shades back to the ghost zone is easy for a kid who fought supervillain level ghosts in highschool.

Tiny problem though, nobody in Amity taught Danny to be "human". He obviously knows not to float around in public just cause his feet are tired, but his friends know human eyes don't glow to really show when you're annoyed. They all like him still but, Everybody thinks he's something.

His classmates: think he's possessed by a demon.

The Bats: think he's possessed by a snich ghost.

His new friends: think he's a closeted meta.

Danny: thinks he's crushing the whole secret-identity thing ;)

Galas, trash talking and that guy that I don’t want to talk to

Danny, Sam and Tucker were standing close to the wall, silently judging people on the Gala. Wayne gala. One of the most prestigious, Well-known and terribly boring event in high society. How did they get there? Enter Rich-ass Sam’s parents and rich-ass fruitloop. The only consolation was them dragging Tucker with them. And The only way to made them behave, apparently. The list of pranks they prepared was impressivly long. But… a deal was a deal. So no pranks. Only them isolating themselves and trash talking in fancy suits other attendants in fancy suits. Fantastic.

-I can bet 10 bucks that this lady in shiny red dress will flirt with Wayne again. - That was Tucker.

- psh too easy that is obvious.- Sam grumbled.

-But she already tried like Three times. I Think it would be a streach. No way she has that little of self respect. You are on.- Danny countered.

-oh poor naive Danny. You lack experience in those matters. Believe me when I say she WILL try again. - And true to Sam’s words the lady tried. Swiftly ignored by organisator of this glorious event. Danny groaned and handed money to Tucker. That was how last two hours had gone by. They already gone thorough all apetizers. After, four attempts to get their hands on alcohol were stopped by staff they give up. They strolled through garden or rather the part that was open, and been to the toilet at least five times. So boredom. Utter boredom.

Danny let his eyes wander through the crowd. He was able to see Vlad persuading some poor businessman into very shady and probably disandventageous deal. Or meeting one on one, where he would just overshadow him and sign the documents. Both were shitty options.

There were times that Danny tried to sabotage Vlad deals but adults tended to ignore warnings from teenagers. So he got fed up with being ignored. Some things are unstoppable. He can fight super-powered king of undead but he can’t talk out an adult from trusting his psycho pseudo-uncle. So no intervention here. He let himself look again, suprisingly he caught eye contact with other teen. Black haired, blue eyed around their age probably slightly older. He started to move towards them.

-carefull some rich kid on the way. -he warned while keeping him in his vision. Both his friends heads snapped too look.

-Dude that is not SOME rich kid that Timothy Drake-Wayne! How could you not recognise him. - Tucker gushed

-Uh, sorry that I don’t know all celebrities. Lately I have been busy fighting ghosts and interdimentional tresspasers if you hadn’t noticed.- Danny hissed back. Sam rolled her eyes, whispering:

- Calm down, just remember that he is adopted son of Bruce Wayne. The one involved in technology.

Danny didn’t get the chance to answer before object of their conversation came to them.

-Hello, Timothy Drake-Wayne, Having fun?

The silence was uncomfortable. Sam got herself together the fastest:

- Of course Mr Drake, amazing event beautifull decorations!

Danny eyed her weirdly. Who could guess she could be such a good lier? He could pick on subtle sarcasm there but only because he knew her. For anyone else she sounded perfectly genuine and honest. He held back a laugh. He loved her so much.

-Tim is fine, I am already Mister in too many places. At the end I am only two years older Lady Samantha. - he answered flashing a smile at her. Huh. That was weird. Danny was not a mood reader but he got a distinct feeling he tried to subtly suck up to them. What a son of multimillionaire could want from them?

-It’s amazing to meet you in person Tim, I am Tucker! I love your work in IT, your new design of pada is fantastic. The outer layer of inside mechanisem is….

Tucker could talk about technology for hours. He knew this particular rant by heart so he let himself focus on Tim. He listened to Tucker and nodded in right places but didn’t seem really interested. However, What he did do was subtly glancing in Danny’s direction quite often. He let his senses wander and focused on newcomer. Tim smelled of expensive perfume, sweat and… suprisingly blood. Quite a lot of blood if Danny was being honest. Apart from that he could taste his determination and growing irritation the longer Tucker spoke. Well not Danny’s problem he can get bored and piss off. He will gladly come back to trash talking other guests now thank you very much.

- So Daniel, I have seen you on few other events but I havent had occasion to talk to you!- that was what brought Danny’s attention back to earth.

-It’s Danny - he corrected out of habit. Sam casted him murderous glare.

-Uh… nice to meet you. - the silence that lasted longer than socialy acceptable was akward. Ancients, Danny hated it so much. He wasn’t really fan of small talk with people he didn’t know. Or generally social interactions but here he is.

- Sooo did you took part in preparations to Gala or is it only your father this time?- Sam tried to save the situation.

- No this time is Bruce and Richard work. So Danny are you involved in your uncle business? Bruce and I had a very interesting conversation about possible deal and wanted to talk a little more about it.

Huh. So this was scouting business. No way Vlad would leave his talks unfinished or without any date to discuss it further. He would also not allow Danny involvement in any way. Not after that one fiasco. So Tim was bullshiting. Well that just rised Danny’s opinion about him from 0 to like 20 on scale 1 to 100. He does not deliberately plan to sabotage Vlad business anymore. But if some guy with heart screwed on comes to him Well…

- Whatever he says I advise to not associate with him. Better to ghost him. if you do actually decide that you must do business with him do not and I can’t stress it enough stay with him one on one in a room. - Danny States calm and even. He Made sure that his eyes were serious and didn’t break eye contact for a moment.

That was a time when Vlad came up to them. Out of breah and slightly dishelved. Obviously he panicked when he saw Tim with them. Danny smirked. Vlad glared.

- Daniel it is time for us to go. Samantha your parents are looking for you and your friend. Mr Drake pardon us we are in a hurry.

-Of course UNCLE.- He smiled inconently.

-bye Tim, Sam, Tucker- he said while looking over his shoulder. His eyes were drilled in Tim’s.

There was something unnerving about Danny’s eyes- Thought Tim.

It is just a thought that I had during my Ester Breakfast when I looked at those fancy silverware that me and my family takę out on christmas and Ester. So yes quick drabble. I have no idea if I will continue or not but I had fun writing it SO here it is.