Salesman Danny

Apprentice of the Butler

AKA "Alfred Pennyworth hires an interim butler while he recuperates from a Rogue attack. Who better than adoption bait Danny Fenton?" prompt!!

Okay, so imagine Danny moves to Gotham to pursue astrophysics at Gotham-U but he's having a surprisingly difficult time keeping a job. Every time he gets hired, the place gets burned down or blown up by Rogues; it's like he's catnip for trouble. Somehow, he's always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And Alfred Pennyworth also happens to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He's at the Gotham Market Co-op, where Danny's been recently hired, and suddenly it's gassed by Scarecrow's Fear Toxin. All the employees and customers scramble to put on their gas masks, but Danny's new enough that he has no idea what's happening. He's suddenly seeing Fright Knight, Dark Pariah, and the GIW. So, he Goes Ghost, defeats all of Scarecrow's goonies, and saves the day! If only his boss would think so, too.

Uh, no. Apparently Danny's now on a Wanted List as an undocumented meta?? And his boss can't be investigated by the GCPD (he's, like, four years behind on taxes and has been dodging the IRS for longer), so he regretfully has to let Danny go. But, hey! Maybe if he becomes a documented meta, he can get hired back. Except Danny can't because the GIW can access the meta registration database and he'll be found out faster than he can leave Gotham.

So, Danny's fired again.

And Alfred "Pride & Honor" Pennyworth?? He's not gonna let the child who saved him (because Scarecrow absolutely was going to snatch the Wayne's butler, who better to take hostage than a billionaire's publicly beloved Father Figure??) possibly become homeless. It's clear the kid is a college student and is barely scraping by, probably paying way too much for room and board at Gotham-U. And... maybe his wrist hurts a bit from a fall. He's older now, it's not impossible that he'd get a sprain or a broken bone. (Plus, Alfred knows the look. The same one as Dick, Jason, Tim, even Bruce. There's an immense grief in those small shoulders, fear and loneliness.)

Cue Alfred hiring Danny on as an interim butler while he recuperates (oh, he's terribly injured, thank you so much for helping me, my boy-). And Danny can't say no. I mean, this old man got injured during the Rogue attack he was apart of! And he's asking for help! And it's also nice to have some money. And a bed and... oh, God, he's working for a billionaire frootloop. Uh-oh.

(Alfred absolutely doesn't tell Bruce about his new son apprentice. It's worth it to see Bruce's eyes glaze over as sees a black-haired teenager standing in the kitchen with Alfred, then doing a double take when he realizes it isn't Jason. And the others are banned from the kitchen, so who is this child in his house?? It's not Kon or Jon either??)

Meanwhile, Danny is actually having a great time with Mr. Pennyworth!! The older man is kind, soft-spoken, and really knows his stuff. Danny really enjoys learning how to cook, especially because none of the food comes alive to fight him. Eventually the Batfam just become used to seeing Danny in the kitchens, gardens, around the house with Alfred. He's a cute kid, always smiling and talking about his college classes. He has effortless sarcastic banter with both Damian and Jason, bonds with Tim about some kind of difficult mechanical mathematics or something, trades dad jokes with Dick. He even manages to win over Cass, Steph, Duke, and Babs.

The only one Danny doesn't truly seem to like is Bruce Wayne, although he never outright disrespects him, since he pays the bills and Danny's midwestern manners kick in. Bruce is confused and very concerned because why is this kid literally glaring daggers at him all the time?? Is he going to poison Bruce's coffee?? Danny's just trying to figure out if Bruce Wayne is a "collects vintage dentures" or "keeps teenagers locked in his basement" type of billionaire frootloop. (He'd kinda prefer the kidnapping, Danny does not want to go looking for a wine cellar and find an entire basement of old teeth.)

Bonus if Bruce tries to subtly win the boy over and Danny's just like, squinting at him, white-knuckling a frying pan and muttering, "That's exactly what someone who collects teeth would say..."

You know how there’s the trope of Tim having to carry Dani/Ellie like a pregnancy until she stabilizes? I want that but with Dick.

Give me screaming, crying, emotional Dick Grayson. He’s pregnant and he’s not afraid to let everybody suffer for him! Emotional control who? He’s pregnant, he doesn’t have to hold anything back.

„Those aren‘t the right chocolates!“

„What do you mean I look fat?! I am carrying a baby! I‘m creating life! You have no idea what it’s like!“

„I hate you! You will never see your grandchild! That’s what you get!“

Give me screaming crash out Grayson, with waterworks and everything. Meanwhile Danny is coming in the few calm moments to look if everything‘s okay, absolutely oblivious to the stress the rest of the family is under.

„What no! I‘m fine, you don’t have to stay, it’s only a few more months. Call me when you get back to your castle? Love you, bye!“

Damian hides in his room bc Dick keeps hugging him and not letting him go, crying about his baby growing up too fast.

Jason came by once to laugh and promptly got forced to cook for Dick, then he had to feel his stomach and listen to Dick tell him how perfect his baby is. All while Damian struggled to get free. They got saved by Tim asking about the babies room in the manor.

Bruce is on such fragile ice right now, he once breathed wrong and got pelted by pillows until he left the room. He is also the first to spend a fortune on baby safety so he could make the manor not blacklisted by Dick for visits.

Tim Drake: Parent by Circumstance, Dad by Choice

Tim had met Dani and Dan months into dating Danny, when they were already deep enough in their relationship that meeting Danny’s… kids (wards? clones? complicated existential crises?) felt like a natural progression.

They were, for all intents and purposes, Danny’s, no matter how strange their origins were.

And Tim?

Tim adored them.

Dani had taken to him immediately. She was smart, resourceful, and had the kind of cunning that made Tim terrified for when she grew up. She was all wild energy and big grins, full of trouble and ready to recruit Tim into it. Which, well—he was a Bat. He might not have the same mischief-making instincts as her, but he knew how to scheme.

Danny had sighed the first time he caught them conspiring, giving Tim a deeply exasperated look as Dani snickered behind his back.

“You’re supposed to be the responsible one,” Danny grumbled, arms crossed.

Tim had only blinked at him. “Why would you assume that?”

Dan, on the other hand, was rougher, quieter. More hesitant in a way that made something in Tim’s chest ache. He was wary at first, slow to warm up to Tim in a way Dani wasn’t—but Tim understood. Dan had sharp edges, but Tim had spent enough time around Jason to know that just meant he needed patience.

Which was fine, because Tim had plenty of it.

Besides, it helped that they liked him. Dani loved that he didn’t snitch when she roped him into pulling pranks on Danny, giggling wildly when they switched out the sugar for salt and watched Danny spit out his morning coffee with distaste.

So he didn’t push. He let Dan take his time, let him get used to having Tim around. The turning point had been, funnily enough, when Dan asked Tim to teach him how to fight.

Danny had sighed about that, too, shooting Tim a pointed look that was probably supposed to convey Do not encourage him.

Tim had ignored it.

Because what was he supposed to do? Say no?

He wanted Dan to know how to fight. To know how to protect himself properly. It wasn’t like he was teaching the kid how to snap someone’s neck—he was teaching him good habits. Controlled movements. Defense. Dan needed that, and Tim was happy to provide it.

Danny could roll his eyes all he wanted, but he wasn’t stopping Tim.

Dan, predictably, thought Tim was the best after that—well, second best. Jason had somehow stolen first place. Tim wasn’t even mad about it. Dan would sit next to Jason with wide, fascinated eyes, soaking up his stories and nodding along to every dramatic retelling of a fight. (“And then I threw the guy through the car door—” “Did he live?” “Unfortunately.”)

Tim was fine with being second place. Really.

—

Tim had almost been caught with the ring twice.

The first time, Dani had nearly found it when she tackled him over the couch, scrambling over him with zero regard for personal space. If he hadn’t been fast in twisting out of her grip, the box would’ve gone flying across the room.

The second time, Dan had almost seen it when Tim went digging through his duffel. The box had nearly slipped into view when he yanked out a hoodie, and Tim had barely managed to shove it under his gear before Dan could get a good look.

But the third time?

Dani found it.

Because of course she did.

Tim had been distracted—exhausted from patrol, too caught up in the warmth of Danny’s hands pulling him in by the waist. He’d tossed his jacket onto the couch, thinking nothing of it.

Dani had been snooping.

He didn’t even realize until later. She didn’t say anything. She just gave him a look—one that was far too knowing for someone her age—but she didn’t mention it. She just tucked the ring back where she found it and let the subject drop.

For now.

But later, when the house was quiet and everyone else had gone to bed, she sat beside him on the couch, feet tucked under her, eyes flickering to him with something unreadable.

Then, in a casual voice, she asked, “Hey… can I call you Dad?”

Tim froze.

His breath caught, and something in his chest lurched.

He turned to her, eyes wide, trying to process what she just said—what she just asked—but before he could even begin to figure out how to respond, Dan, from where he was leaning against the arm of the couch, just shrugged.

“Yeah,” he muttered, gaze a little too pointedly not on Tim. “You’ve earned it, I guess.”

And Tim—Tim had to swallow past the sudden tightness in his throat, had to blink fast against the prickling behind his eyes. He cleared his throat, voice rough as he said, “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Dani grinned, throwing herself at him without hesitation. Tim huffed as he caught her, laughing as she clung to him like she was sure he wouldn’t let go.

Dan rolled his eyes. But his lips curled up, just slightly.

Tim had never been happier.

Ever get absolutely blindsided by a fixation

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

Little Snippets #10

"Oh hell naw!"

Goon Nr.1 shouted the moment the bag got pulled of Danny's head, and he squinted at the light. His eyes adjusted.

"I am not paid enough to deal with a Wayne kid!" Goon Nr.2 groan.

Danny blinked again. Now he could just... easily walk out of this, but the school trip had been boring, and he thought he could get in some rough housing if he let this men... like kidnapped him. You know? Like he does with his ghost rogues. But this was unexpected now that these guys were apparently getting a closer look at him.

"Come on its Wayne kid! The Ransom will be a big pay out." Goon Nr.3 said cheerful.

Danny blinked again, the other two goons giving the third one a rather deadpan stare.

"New guy?" Nr.2 asked.

"New guy." Nr.1 confirmed.

Okay, this was the point on which Danny was now puzzled. Who were the Wayne's? Why was kidnapping them bad? And was this a good moment to transform and get a bit of brawl in? He really wanted some action after all the museums and sightseeing trips Mr. Lancer took the class on.

Goon Nr.1 was now patting Nr.3's shoulder like he was an innocent child. "Dude, we don't mess with the Waynes because that alerts the Bats. We don't want to deal with Batman if we don't have too."

"Last time I worked for Peguin, he strung me up and tied me to a roof..." Nr.2 shivered.

"I saw him take out ten guys at once before... ran for my life that day." Nr.1 sighted before he shook his head. "And that's when Batman has a good day. On a bad day... you will have broken bones."

"And in the worst case, you get one of his spawns to show up instead." Goon Nr.2 added on.

"Uh... Spawns?" Danny couldn't help but ask, blinking from his spot on a chair, no longer tied onto it as he had already phased out of the ropes while they weren't looking.

"The Robin's!" The two goons said in sync and then proceeded to launch into an explanation about the Robin's, their theory about which Robin became which other vigilante according to the timeline and how Red Hood fit into that theory and also why they were so much worse when they showed up instead of Batman.

Danny won't deny it. That was kind of the most interesting part of his school trip now, as he sat there nodding along to the explanation Goon Nr.1 and Nr.2 were giving him and Nr.3.

Meanwhile...

Mr. Lancer was panicked. One Danny Fenton was missing. A Fenton was mission. He lost a God damn Fenton in an unknown city. He needed to do damage control and that quickly. Unknowingly alerting the Bats to the situation through contacting the GCPD to find one blue-eyed, black haired teenager.

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.

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.

Bruce: The new neighbors are....odd.

Jason: What neighbors?

Tim: The ones who bought my old house. They're washing their cars on thier lawn

Jason: Oh heaven, forbidden rich people do chores you privileged-

Tim: They're using water guns.

Jason: What?

Tim: The Fentons are washing their cars using water guns. Granted, they are using automatic water guns, but still. They shoot like it's a execution firing squad.

Danny in the distance: BE. CLEAN. WEEP BEFORE YOUR FOUR WHEEL CHILDREN .

Jason: Wtf?

Bruce: Like I said, they're odd.

I made a thing….