Crime Alleys Savior

DPxDC Old Friends

Dick rings the doorbell.

Tim has no idea why they are here. The house his brother is trying to invite himself in looks nice, almost eerily so: walls painted in warm beige, windows so clean they sparkle, a perfectly manicured lawn, and flower beds and bushes without a single bad leaf, neatly cut and shaped to the point where they look like a Pinterest picture. The whole place looks like a photoshopped flyer of American Dream.

Which is exactly why it sets Tim on edge. No one can live their life so perfect.

Maybe it's just his broken arm and concussed head speaking, though. The throbbing pain tends to make him grouchy and distrustful.

Another minute passes in silence.

Dick raises his hand once more, but, just as he is about to press the doorbell again, the door opens. A tall, thin redhead girl with bright freckles sprinkled over her cheeks peeks out, a nice, if slightly awkward smile on her face. Only, as soon as she sees Dick, the smile drops like it was never there, and the girl starts closing the door back, evidently intent on slamming it in their faces.

Dick hastily puts his foot in, preventing it from closing.

"Hey, Jasmine, really sorry to bother-"

"Go to fucking hell," the redhead spits out, looking like she is two seconds away from violence. Tim must say, that reaction actually makes him feel a bit better about the whole situation. Turns out, not everything is picture perfect here, what a relief.

"Who's there?" Comes a voice from somewhere inside the house. Male, from the sound of it, so, maybe a husband?

"No one!" Jasmine yells back, an annoyed hint to her tone.

"Jasmine, please," Dick pleads, not taking his eyes off the girl.

"'No one' like you need the gun, or 'no one' like you need the thermos?" A different, younger voice asks, followed by a loud snort and a bark of a dog.

"My brother is hurt," Dick adds, like it's his last resort of an argument, and Tim huffs, barely holding himself back from elbowing the man in his side. And who's fault is that?..

Yet, that makes the redhead pause. She purses her lips, briefly looks at Tim and the way he's cradling his arm. Then, she sighs, long and exasperated, and lets go of the door, allowing it to open all the way.

"'No one' like I need the medkit," she finally answers to whoever is inside the house, and steps to the side, gesturing for both Dick and Tim to come in. "Comicon alert, everyone, plant your feet on the floor!"

DP X Marvel #24

When Danny Fenton got into MIT, he thought the biggest challenge would be balancing ghost hunting with college coursework. What he didn’t expect was to impress Dr. Jane Freaking Foster—renowned astrophysicist, literal genius, the mind behind the Foster Theory, and, unbeknownst to her, his idol since age thirteen—during a campus science expo when he presented his thesis on interdimensional ectoplasmic lattice fluctuations as a potential fuel source for wormhole stabilization. He thought she’d walk by his booth with a polite smile. Instead, she paused, squinted at his equations, asked three rapid-fire questions, then turned to the MIT faculty and said, “Is this kid legally allowed to work in a government lab yet?”

That’s how he became her apprentice.

Danny thought it would be, you know, an internship. Fetch coffee, carry papers, maybe input data if he got lucky. What he didn’t expect was to be living in New Mexico three months later, standing on a roof beside Jane Foster while she casually pointed at the sky and said, “If this gravitational anomaly maintains its trajectory, we’ll have a Yggdrasil branch brush up against the heliopause by Tuesday. That’s new.”

Danny nodded, mostly pretending he understood.

What neither of them anticipated was Thor crashing into their lives again like a golden retriever with a god complex and a hammer. He landed dramatically during a research presentation, lightning still fizzing off his cape, and made such eye contact with Jane that the projector screen behind them shorted out.

And then he saw Danny.

“Young one!” Thor bellowed, eyes wide, blond hair tousled by divine winds, “You must be her son.”

Danny blinked. “I—what?”

“Of course!” Thor clasped his shoulder. “You have her radiant intellect and tenacity. Truly, you are worthy of Midgard’s finest mother.”

“I—she’s not—” Danny tried.

Thor turned to Jane, face alight. “You did not tell me you had borne a child! And one so strong in spirit! A scholar of the stars!”

Jane rubbed her temples. “Thor. He’s nineteen. I met him last month. He’s my apprentice. He is not my son.”

Thor shook his head gravely. “Say no more, Jane. I understand. You wished to protect him from the dangers of our past. But I vow upon Mjolnir’s handle, I shall be a father to him.”

“What the hell,” Danny muttered.

Over the next few days, things escalated fast.

Danny woke up one morning to find a goat outside the lab. A live goat. Wearing a ribbon. The tag read: For my brave son, may his mornings be strong of milk and noble of beard. Jane nearly choked on her cereal. Darcy screamed and immediately named the goat “Spacey.”

Thor showed up during Danny’s lecture on cosmic radiation and brought a sack of Asgardian textbooks written in glowing runes, which promptly caused two lab interns to faint and one professor to file a complaint.

Danny begged Jane to tell him this would stop.

“No,” Jane said, sipping her coffee without looking up. “You’re his emotional support stepson now.”

“I don’t want to be anyone’s emotional support anything!” Danny cried. “I have ectoplasmic trauma and insomnia!”

But Thor persisted.

He invited Danny to spar in the desert, claiming it would “toughen his warrior instincts.” Danny blasted a crater in the sand when a ghost startled him mid-match, and Thor wept with pride. “Such fire! Truly, a son worthy of thunder.”

Jane sighed. “You’re going to give him a complex.”

“I already have a complex!” Danny yelled from where he was half-buried in sand.

Then came the night Thor pulled Danny aside with intense solemnity.

“Daniel,” he said, kneeling, “I seek your blessing.”

Danny froze, halfway through a sandwich. “I—what—blessing for what?”

“To court your mother.”

“She’s NOT my—!”

Thor raised a hand. “Please. I know you wish to protect her. But my heart is true. I have spent long hours learning Midgardian courtship. Observe.”

He pulled out a guitar. A guitar. From nowhere. And began strumming aggressively while singing off-key.

“Oh Jane, fairest in the stars, your eyes burn like a neutron quasaaaaaar—”

Danny screamed into his sandwich.

Jane screamed into her coffee.

Darcy recorded the entire thing.

By the time the Avengers got wind of what was happening, it was too late. Tony Stark showed up purely out of pettiness.

“So this is the ‘son,’ huh?” he said, looking Danny up and down like he was a new model of iPhone. “You do look like Jane. Same ‘don’t talk to me before coffee’ vibe. But with a sprinkle of sleep-deprived raccoon.”

Danny glared. “You must be the one Jane threatens to launch into orbit when she’s annoyed.”

“See? Family resemblance,” Tony muttered.

Then Steve Rogers took Thor aside and whispered, “Are you sure he’s her kid? Jane would’ve told us if she had a child.”

Thor nodded gravely. “It is the only explanation. He speaks with passion, has knowledge of the stars, and I saw him summon green fire from his hands!”

“It was a ghost, Thor,” Danny shouted from across the lab. “It was literally a ghost trying to possess a vending machine!”

“Exactly!” Thor beamed.

“Thor. I’m nineteen. Jane is thirty-seven.”

“She is a goddess among mortals. Perhaps she birthed you when she was five.”

“That’s not how—YOU KNOW WHAT, NEVER MIND.”

Soon, even Loki showed up, slinking into the lab with a smirk like a serpent in silk.

“I had to see for myself,” he purred, circling Danny like a shark. “The mortal child who ensnared my brother’s affections.”

Danny just blinked. “I’m not his kid. Or Jane’s. I’m not even sure I’m awake right now.”

Loki chuckled. “You’ll make an excellent prince. Do you have any interest in necromancy?”

“I’m a ghost half the time,” Danny deadpanned. “Define interest.”

Loki grinned wider.

Eventually, S.H.I.E.L.D. got involved. Fury showed up, took one look at the scene—the goat eating research notes, Thor trying to build Danny a golden throne, Jane yelling about radiation levels, and Danny levitating out of sheer stress—and muttered, “Nope,” before turning around and leaving.

But beneath all the chaos, Danny… didn’t hate it.

Jane never treated him like a kid. She taught him everything, from solar flares to Bifrost trajectories. She let him make mistakes, then helped him fix them. She told him he was brilliant, and for once, he kind of believed it. And Thor, for all his thunderous confusion, brought him starfruit from Alfheim and carved him a wooden Mjolnir as a “coming-of-age” gift.

Danny didn’t even mind the goat anymore.

He still insisted, every day, that Jane was not his mom.

But when Thor presented him with a massive, hand-forged broadsword inscribed with: To my noble son, may your ghosts be vanquished and your GPA ever high, he kind of teared up.

A little.

One evening, as they watched the stars from the roof, Jane handed Danny a cup of tea.

“He really does think you’re my kid,” she said.

Danny took a sip. “Yeah. I gave up trying to convince him.”

“Is it weird?”

“Kinda. But… not bad.” He hesitated. “Do you… mind?”

Jane looked at him, surprised. “No. I mean—you’re not. But if you were, I’d be proud.”

Danny stared at the stars until they blurred.

Later, Thor appeared beside them, cape fluttering dramatically despite the lack of wind.

“I have returned with tales of valor,” he declared, “and also cheesecake.”

Danny took the box.

“Son!” Thor beamed.

Danny sighed.

“Fine. You can have my blessing.”

Thor dropped Mjolnir in joy.

Jane looked horrified. “Danny, what the hell?!”

“I didn’t say I wanted it to happen,” Danny muttered. “I just figured he’d stop bringing me swords if I gave in.”

“He won’t,” she said flatly.

He didn’t.

The next morning, Danny woke up to find a full set of Asgardian armor beside his bed and a note that read: For my beloved heir. P.S. I have begun planning the wedding. Do you think your mother would prefer swans or flaming eels as decoration?

He screamed into his pillow.

The goat screamed with him.

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

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

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

Clark: Where was Dick?

Bruce: Digging a hole.

Diana: Why was he digging a hole?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

J'onn: He set me on fire.

Bruce: What? Why?

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

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

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

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

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

Hood needs to hurry or Mr Freeze will adopt him

DpxDc #2

Ice core needs warming.

Danny's love language is physical touch.

He adored his dad’s crushing hugs, his mother’s forehead kisses, and his sister's way of putting both hands on his shoulders to guide him.

He loved the way he would accidentally brush against his friends while walking, how they would grab on each other during horror movies, how Sam would stop and pick the loose hair on his shirt, and how Tucker would press his hand against his back every time he caught up to them.

After being forced out of Amity and outed as Phantom, he started to miss Dash’s punches, too.

Any type of touch was considerably better than the cold he was feeling inside his chest.

His ice core made him feel like he was suffocating, the warmth of a human touch now felt more urgent than eating or finding shelter out in Gotham.

In the meantime, Red Hood received news of a new criminal in the alley that would target random people in the street and grab them, causing their arms to freeze over.

Something about this ungodly hour has convinced me I can fight god, so art…

WIP from a DPxDC fic im probably never going to finish, I’ll probably post more art of it but I’m pretty art blocked rn🥲

You would think more Ghost King Danny fics would go into the politics and culture of the ghost zone but a lot of it is just DC crossover, he gets summoned, Constantine freaks out

Don’t get me wrong, I love that shit. But I want more political shit and cultural exchange or whatever

First Visit

OG

In a series of unknown events Jason woke up to something warm and vibrating on his chest, as well as what he belatedly recognized as purring near his face.

Opening his eyes he found a fluffy black cat on his chest, doing what Damian had called a "perfect cat loaf" once when showing him a picture of Alfred the cat. Rubbing his eyes he stared at the cat, he didn't have a cat.

Bedroom door? Closed.

Window? Closed.

How did a cat get in here? Did Damian need to hide a cat and forget to tell him? He shuddered as he was reminded of that one time out of many in the league where he woke up with some kind of lizard or snake suddenly in his room.

Well, the purring was nice, and Jason knew as well as anybody that you didn't disturb a napping kitty. Reaching over to his nightstand he looked at his phone, no new messages from his family, a pic from Roy with Lian did make him smile at least. Opening the chat with Damian he took a photo of the cat and sent it with the caption " This yours?"

He saw that the message got read, then nothing, okay then.

"Yip!" Suppressing a flinch and clutching his phone, so he didn't throw it, he snapped his head to the side and saw a small, green puppy leaning its head on his mattress while staring up at him.

Slowly Jason turned his phone to snap another picture, this time of the dog, before sending it to Damian with a "What the fuck?" - read again, then nothing. The puppy whimpered. Jason glanced at it again. The puppy seemed to stand on its hind legs while his front legs were now clawing at his mattress so he could get up on the bed.

"The brat owes me so much, up you go, be nice to the cat." Helping the dog up with one hand while trying not to jostle the cat was a bit of a struggle with the pup squirming so much. But as soon as the puppy was up he walked over to the cat, laid his head down on his front paws and gave small licks to the cats' side.

The cat opened its eyes, an intense green, nearly glowing, turned to the dog, gave him a lick over his nosebridge and then went back to napping.

The puppy jumped up, proceeded to hit Jason square in the face with his fast wagging tail and then gave playful growls to the cat, obsiously wanting to play.

The cat ignored it.

The puppy suddenly pounced, making the cat roll off Jasons chest with a squaking meow before it landed on its legs and proceeded to jump off the bed towards Jasons legs and then to the ground. The puppy followed, happily yipping at the cat. White botted paws now visible as Jason feared the worst, but before he could do anything the cat suddenly stilled, ears flickering.

The puppy tilted its head, gave the cat a lick before the cat swished its tail into the puppies face and bolted through the wall out of the bedroom.

Well... that explained how it entered, and the puppy followed, also through the wall, and Jason decided he needed breakfast before he tried to make sense of what just happened.

He stopped when he saw Damian break in through the window just as he entered his living room. The two brothers stared at each other.

"Tt. Where is the cat Todd?" Damian closed the window behind himself, looking around.

"It ran outside through the wall." 'Cause why not? Why should Jason be the only one baffled on this fine morning?

Danny in a trench coat and sunglasses: Psshhh, hey, kid Damian: Yes? Danny: Do you want to buy some candy? Damian, gripping a knife behind his back: Sure Danny opening trench coat: Okay, I have chocolate clusters, gummy bears covered in candy rocks, and spicy taffy. Damian: Oh, you meant real candy. Danny: Of course. Why else would you be standing in an alley with a trench coat? Damian: Are you not hearing yourself right now? Danny: I actually heard it. But I have to do it this way. See, I'm hiding from- Jason: THERE YOU ARE! Danny: Leave me alone! I told you I ran out of mini-donuts! Jason: YOU LIE Damian watching his brother chase a street vendor down the road: This is a good mental simulation for him. He needs this.

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.