So I Also Got Wrenched (gently) Back Into The Danny Phantom Fandom From All The DC Crossovers. How Fun-

John is just having a quick talk with Bats about a new curse that has settled over Gotham lately (more of the usual, nothing heinous, more trouble to get rid of it than leaving it would be) when his new 'son' zooms out of his pocket and latches onto Red Hood's helmet.

John is only SLIGHTLY worried for moment that his eldritch baby has decided to be a face eater, but no. He's just clinging to Red Hood's helmet and looking at the vigilante with his oversized wet eyes. And is he purring?

Jason is kind of confused. Wtf is this thing, and why is it on him. Why is the Pit quieter??!

Meanwhile John is wondering how much he needs to offer to put Red Hood on the official baby sitting roster. The kid seems to like him.

DPxDC Prompt

John sees alot in his line of work, the supernatural is like that after all you never know what you will run into. So when he is called for what is essentially pest control he doesn't have high hopes for the gig. It could literally be any number of things, so he grabs a little of everything before he arrives at the location.

It is a planetarium, absolutely OVERRUN but blob ghosts!

John sighs and gets to work funneling the ghosts out of the building and into a portal to the infinite realms. Pretty cut and dry job, which should have been a clue that it was anything but. He doesn't realize he has a passenger until he gets back to the house of mysteries and reaches into his pocket only to get BITTEN.

John makes eye contact with what he can only assume is a baby eldritch monstrosity, it can't even be over a millennium yet, is it even over a century!? oh god it was born in the last decade!

Little baby man Danny has no idea that the man he hitched a rid on would essentially be adopting him in the near future, not that that is a problem, he is still growing into his new form as an Ancient of Space. Wouldn't hurt to have a protector and guardian to look after him in the coming centuries!

Fanart for @st-whalefall and their amazing fic 'In the Hall of the Mountain King'! It's such an incredible piece of writing with beautiful metaphors, intriguing character dynamics, and a really interesting setting. Uh, spoilers for the first two chapters as well, I suppose!

A Danny get adopted by Batfam angst misunderstanding fic where they find Danny chugging anti-freeze and freaking out because they think he's trying to commit suicide, and Danny who has not revealed his identity keeps getting interrupted when he tries to explain.

DPxDC Prompt

Danny can and will eat things that no living being can, his ectoplasm can break down any non-ecto based materials and turn it into nutrients and energy.

Due to this he is immune to all poisons, which is great for Danny, what isn’t great is trying to explain that to some well meaning heroes who witnessed him some highly toxic alien fruit he found. He just wants to enjoy his new snack, the spicy sweet tang is addictive AND HE WISHES THEY’D STOP TAKING IT FROM HIM!

*Mutual reblogs something you posted*

Me: They still like me. Thank God.

I feel like Bruce Wayne projects the kind of amiable playboy 'fun' vibe that he'd be the type of celebrity that certain interviewers feel comfortable surprising with puppies.

You know the kind of shows I mean.

The late-night talk show situations where they're making benign small talk with their smiling guest, and there's a segment where animals get brought out, usually to talk about some sort of ecological relief effort.

So you're watching your trash TV talk show late at night, and you get to watch billionaire pretty boy Bruce Wayne be begrudgingly talked into holding a (relatively) harmless creature which inevitably gets a lot of delighted shrieks from the audience as it starts being a lot more active than the handler promised. And to his credit, Bruce doesn't flinch, he doesn't freak out. But his eyes are a little wide, and his voice a little tight as the smile on his face takes on a slight rictus quality before he's inevitably rescued by an apologetic handler who is also laughing because they all know there was no real danger, it was just funny to put Bruce, who is an undeniable good sport and already laughing along, out of his comfort zone for the sake of charity.

Meanwhile, up in the Justice League headquarters, several founding members of the League are wondering how fast they can get a fake Oscar award shipped to the space station because fuck off. Absolutely fuck off, Bruce. Where the fuck did he study? Juilliard? (Probably.)

(Clark ends up going to a novelty store during the commercial break. It's faster than trying to get anything shipped, even with the infrastructure Bats built for them. He finds it several days later taped to his console in a conspicuously empty briefing room. It's gaudy and awful, the words "Best Actor" engraved on the plaque. No one's around to see him smile. No one comments when it vanishes. Everyone thinks it's been yeeted out an airlock. Dick absolutely comments when it shows up in the manor, stashed in one of the trophy cases that sprung up for all the bat kids' school awards. Bruce has no idea how it got there. Must have been Alfred. (It was not.))

Anyway, consider, for your amusement, Bruce Wayne getting highjacked on The Gotham Toight Show with a handful of wriggling puppies and, for a split second, not having to pretend he's delighted to be there.

#artists

Reblog if you're okay with receiving asks for backstory info on any/all of your fics.

If not all, specify which ones in the tags.

In a dimension with Fentons (doesn't matter which one), the IRS made a multilayered magic contract that banned the Fentons from ever having to pay their taxes and, by extension, be the IRS's problem. This magic contract transcends dimensions. This is good for Danny and terrifying for everyone else.

you’ve inspired me so here’s a thing you can do whatever with cause I got a migraine and lost my train of thought

so Danny’s working the bar at the iceberg lounge and notices more people are stress drinking, even the Big Names and asks what’s up only to find it’s ✨Tax Season✨

Danny: oh I always forget about that

someone: (aghast) you don’t pay your taxes

Danny: *shrugs* I’m not allowed to pay taxes

wtf does that mean, is he exempt, someone asks but no Danny explains that the first and only time he tried to pay his taxes he received a full refund and a cease and desist order

word gets around and not even the joker want to mess with Danny because what kind of a monster can scare the irs

(This is actually an inherited problem from his parents)

"What did you just say?" Danny looks up from where he is mixing drinks. Across from him is a purple suit-wearing clown- he hates clowns, so he was attempting not to make eye contact- whose whole white face is twitching slightly.

Danny blinks slowly, using every ounce of self-control to not give in to the urge to reach across the bar and slap him. After a moment, he answered, "I always forget tax season."

"You're crazy enough to take on the IRS?" The clown's jaw drops. "I mean Batman, sure, I understand that, but the IRS?"

Danny frowns. "I don't take them on. I don't have to do my taxes."

"How?" A man in a suit covered in question marks demands from further down the bar.

He shrugs his shoulders a little. "I tried it once, but they sent me a full refund and a cease and desist order. They only remind me that I cannot file taxes now."

"Prove it," A man covered in scales hisses.

Danny grabs a rag, using it to clean off the lemon juice. He reaches into his apron pocket, pulling out a folded-up letter. He could have left it in his locker, but stuff always went missing there. Best to keep his stuff on his person while working. "Sure. Here I have it now. I went to the post office before my shift-hey!"

The lade covered in leaves yanks the letter out of his hand, unfolding it and reading the words as though it wasn't a federal crime. Her voice wavers when she gets to the reminder that the United States of America Internal Revenue Service would not stand another attempt at Daniel Fenton's taxes.

"This can't be real," She scoffs, but there is an underline of worry in her voice that she can't entirely hide.

She turns to a man in a strange white and black suit- like it's evenly split down the middle strange. It matches his face, though; one side is gorgeous, and the other is deformed. "This isn't real, is it Two-Face?"

Two-face takes the paper from her hand, carefully reading the words before pulling out his phone and typing away. After a few seconds, he pauses, then gasps. "It's real. My boys just confirmed the Tax ID number. He is not legally allowed to do taxes."

"Holly Molly, you're insane," the clown gasped, backing out of the seat while pointing at Danny as though he was the devil. "Stay away from me you lunitic! I'm not messing with the IRS's boogie man!"

He turned tail and ran, leaving behind a stunned Danny, wondering what he could have said to earn that reaction. His parents back home were also ordered to not do their taxes. It's common.

He turns to his other customers, ready to take their order, but they all pale and quickly duck away from him as well.

Strange.

Then, Danny notices the silence that has fallen upon the Iceberg Lounge. Even the music has been cut off as everyone stares at him in disbelief.

He shifts, a little uncomfortable with the stares. Danny has never grown used to attention, no matter how much he craved it as a teenager. He always wanted to be in the It Crowd and be given an official membership to the A-listers, but he grew to understand that the only way they liked seeing him was in pain.

So Danny learned to avoid attention as he could, which wasn't complex as the part of the town's freaks, but the very few mintues someone did pay attention to him something terrible ended up happening.

Dash stuffed him into a locker while classmates laughed and cheered the bully on.

A teacher calling on him just to make him feel stupid.

His parents realized he was slipping in his grades and reminded him that he was a failure to the family's intelligence.

Or some random GIW agent that "banished" him from his Earth, flinging Danny straight across the universe to whatever hellhole Gotham crawled out of.

He barely got this bartending job only a few weeks ago- lying about his age which he thinks his boss doesn't care about- and using a shade of an old bartender to coach him in mixology.

Shades were different from ghosts. For one thing, they were weaker and unable to be seen by regular people. They could not interact with the world and often didn't even know they were dead. If Danny had been able to see them before the portal, he would have known they were the cause of what is commonly known as a "ghost."

They were the myths.

Jeff Ricci is Shade, one who is aware he died. He was killed in a gang shoot-out a few years after he and his sister ran away from an abusive home. They traveled through three states, dodging police and CPS, before they disappeared among Gotham's homeless population.

The pair of siblings survived for a while doing odd jobs for local gangs- things like drug runs or helping them move guns- which is why Jeff was out there the night the fight broke out.

It was an imperfect stroke of luck, the wrong place and time. The two had been doing so well, too. They had both gotten jobs at the Iceberg Lounge, lying about their ages, where Jeff was a dishwasher, and Lucia was a housekeeper.

After hours, Jeff was taught by his coworkers how to properly mix drinks, waiting for Lucia to finish her job. When the two turned eighteen, Lucia became a waitress, and Jeff joined the bar- though if anyone asked or checked their employee records, both were twenty-one.

With better pay and hours, they could rent an apartment, finally gaining a home after three years of homelessness. Jeff had lived in that home for only a month when he accepted a job to buy Lucia some migraine medication and had perished.

Lucia lived on without her twin, broken far more than before, but she still had the apartment and job at the Iceberg Lounge. She was unaware her brother still followed her around, watching her actaully turn twenty-one while he remained eighteen.

That's how Danny met him, a somewhat see-through man casually following one of the prettiest waitresses. He had assumed he was being a creep, but Jeff had been delighted that someone could not only see him but was willing to protect his sister by threatening him away from her.

In exchange for lessons on proper mixing, Jeff asked Danny to keep an eye on his sister. Help her when he could not. It was a fair trade from one younger brother to another.

The shade is currently leaning against the counter beside Danny, staring at him as though Danny was a god. "You scare the Joker. Shit, Danny, I knew you were some kind of Rouge in the making, but to take out heavy hitters like this before your debut!? That's just terrifying! Would you be willing to pay my sister to be your secretary or something? She's a great typer!"

What a strange place Gotham is.

"That implies there's a good death juice and I take offense at that,"

"Oh fair. But you've never had ecto-boba, so I'm gonna ask you to reserve your opinion until you can try it,"

"Is that a date?"

"It is if you want it to be. But maybe we should move out of the middle of the sidewalk, I think that guy over there is thinking whether or not to mug us."

"Oh, right. Gotham,"

Dead on Main Soulmate AU

First words your soulmate says to you are written on your skin. Jason didn’t understand his for a long time- it looks like an insult, but he has absolutely no idea what it means, both before and after his death.

Eventually, it starts to make a slight bit more sense as Trendy Lingo advanced, and he hears Steph and Tim and some other teens using something similar. Still, he doesn’t understand why they’re said, and he’s unprepared for when he’s approached randomly by some guy while walking down the street after a particularly violent pit rage.

“Sir, your vibes are rancid.”

Jason freezes. The pit writhes in offense, because what the fuck, but at the same time his heart is beating out of his chest, because what the fuck?

“Oh ancients that sounded rude.” The guy says, eyes widening like he can’t believe he said that. “I mean- I just- are you okay? You don’t feel okay. You feel really, really sick, like your soul got marinated in corrupted ecto, and do you want help?”

Jason keeps staring. The guy is cute, dark hair and blue eyes that seem just a bit too bright to be human, freckles disappearing behind an embarrassed flush.

“I don’t want to overstep, because you’re giving off a whole lot of “fuck off don’t talk to me”, but I didn’t wanna just ignore you because I’m pretty sure a lot of the anger and bad vibes are coming from the corrupted stuff and I’m pretty sure I can help with that? If you don’t want help just tell me to fuck off or punch me in the face and I’ll leave but-”

The stranger takes a nervous step away, and Jason lunges forwards before he can think, everything in him rebelling at the thought of his soulmate leaving, from his own thoughts to the pits themselves.

“Please don’t leave.” He gasps, hands squeezed tight to his soulmates arm despite the twinge of pain from his bloodied knuckles. His soulmate’s eyes widen in shock, mouth dropped open, before he breaks into a bright, amazed grin.

“I won’t, I promise.” His soulmate says, reaching up to hold onto Jason’s arms in turn. His touch is cold, even through Jason’s jacket. “I’m staying right here.”

Jason leans into the touch, sagging with relief. He can feel the pits receding, the anger and pain and fear fading as his soulmate gently runs his hand over his back.

He feels, for the first time in a long time, at peace.

“…seriously though, wtf happened to you, you reek of bad death juice.”

Smuggle? The only reason Clark would have to smuggle Danny in is if he doesn't want Bats' competition for adoption.

Black hair blue eyes? Strong sense of justice? Extreme willingness to help others even at his own detriment? Batman can try to make that argument, but then Clark points our he has all of those things, plus 'finders keepers'.

Clark would not be punished for helping.

Danny can't recall many fond memories of his childhood, but ones he did remember often included their summer trips to his Aunt Alicia's in the countryside where he and Jazz would play in the woods just outside the Kent family's farm. The Kent's were a wonderful family who took his parents' ghost talks in stride, and they were always kind to him and Jazz. Danny loved when Clark and his wife Lois were in town while they visited. They always had really cool stories on account of them being journalists. And if Danny seemed to notice that Clark tended to treat everything like it was glass, or that he seemed to hear things way better than he should... well, Danny wasn't going to say anything about it.

It was about a year after Danny's accident that the Fenton family made a trip back out to Alicia's. Clark happened to be in town; he heard the Fentons were coming. He'd heard shouting coming from Alicia's, but had initially thought nothing of it. The Fentons were a loud family, always getting into some sort of trouble. Then he heard the sound of their weapons firing; a little weirder, but still normal for Jack and Maddie. And then he heard a cry for help... that's when he found Danny stumbling through their fields, covered in dirt and blood and green, glowing goop. He had a gash in his side that he gripped at in pain, and his eyes burned a toxic green in his determination to get to the farmhouse. He clung to Clark as soon as he was close enough.

"Please help me," he whimpered through ground teeth. "My parents are hunting me, please you have to help me!" Probably a meta, he thought, angry that Jack and Maddie could do something like this to their own son, meta or not. With gentle hands, Clark lifted the child he'd known since he was a baby and got him to the safest place he could think of for medical attention. It was time to smuggle a child into the Batcave.

OR

Clark has known Danny his whole life, and when an identity reveal goes sideways in the countryside, Batman helps Clark adopt Danny.