JL, summoned the ghost king for something: Can you help?
Danny, going THROUGH IT and suicidal: No
Danny: *snatches the blood blossoms Constantine was trying to threaten him with and just starts eating them to kill himself*
Constantine, breaking 500 different magic rules to get this kid to stop eating poison: Wait! No! Stop that! The Realms will kill us all if they think we killed you!
Danny, coughing blood: sounds like a you problem
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
I made a thing….
AKA "Danny is the ghost-equivalent of a foster parent for de-aged Dani and Dan. Jason's just wondering who the hell these two feral meta children are." prompt idea!
Danny thinks he's doing an okay job at being a single dad of two. They're living in a quaint two bedroom apartment in Park Row, he's managing his Ghost King money well, and the kids haven't died (again). (He's definitely not getting a "World's Greatest Dad" mug anytime soon, but, hey, at least the house hasn't burned down yet!)
...Until he wakes up from his nap to an eerily silent apartment.
If there's one thing he's learned over the last few months, it's that silence is not good. He's scrambling off the couch fast enough to give himself a headache, practically flying down the hallway so he can get to the kids' room. Ellie is wedged halfway under her bunk bed. Dan's also squished under the bed but quickly squirms out when he realizes Danny's standing in the door way. He's holding... a socket wrench??
"...do I want to know what you two are doing?" Danny deadpans.
Ellie scrambles out as well, smears of something oily on her cheek. For a seven and eight year old, they have surprisingly convincing I'm innocent! expressions.
"I dunno," Ellie singsongs while Dan simultaneously barks, "Nothing!"
Danny squints. The kids squint back. Yeah, there's definitely something under the bed that's not supposed to be there. Since Dan's holding a wrench (and where the hell did he get that?? Danny doesn't even own any tools aside from maybe a little rubber mallet he found in the hallway closet), Danny hopes thinks it's not an animal.
It takes a minute of arguing in which Danny promises not to be mad, let them eat ice cream, and let them stay up an hour later than curfew for the kids to even let him near the bed without biting him. (Jokes on them, the ice cream is sugar free and Danny's going to reset the clocks to an hour before. Check and mate, bitch! Parenting is so easy.)
And then Danny pulls out... a tire. No, a rim. Two tire rims. Oh, Ancients. Engraved on the tire rim is a red Bat symbol. His stomach nearly drops to the floor; everybody in Crime Alley knows what the Red Hood's symbol looks like. "Eight Heads in a Duffle Bag," Crime Prince of Gotham with a gang big enough to take over all of Park Row. And yeah, Danny could easily beat the guy, but that doesn't mean he wants to. He doesn't want to uproot Dan and Ellie from their schools, move cities, run from yet another organization that wants them dead.
"How did you get this?" Danny asks, utterly dumbfounded.
"I dunno," Ellie says, just as Dan's saying, "Nowhere."
(Danny takes it back. Parenting is definitely not easy.)
"Danielle. Daniel. Where did you get these tire rims?" Danny asks again, more stern this time, to which he only gets shrugs. And that's when he notices the window is open and the screen his missing. "You're kidding me. Did you climb out the window? We're on the third floor!"
"We flew, duh." Ellie rolls her eyes, only shooting a wide-eyed, guilty look to Dan when he elbows her with a vicious shuddup!
"I-okay. Here's what we're going to do. We'll... just return the rims. It's not like the Red Hood saw you two steal them-," Danny stops when Ellie and Dan give each other a side-eye. He knows that look. It's the same look he and Jazz used to give each other when they had a silent agreement about something. Oh, no. No, no, no.
"...he didn't see you, did he?"
Another side-eye look. Oh, Ancients. At least there's no way the Red Hood knows where they are, right?
(Jason stares at the kids playing with his bike. He's not stupid enough to think they couldn't have been paid to sabotage it, but the way the little girl hikes herself up onto the seat and pretends to rev the engine makes him think otherwise. It's cute. The boy mostly seems interested in the engraved bat symbol on his tire rims, scraping at it like it's a 3D decal.
"I wanna be a bicycle-rider when I get bigger. I'll wear the jacket and everything!" The little girl laughs, deepening her voice before saying, "I'm a bicycle-rider! I'll beat you up!"
Jason snorts. He's leaning against the fire escape balcony overhead and it's dark enough for them not to see him, but they both freeze at the soft sound. When nothing happens, the kids relax again.
"It's a motorist, stupid. C'mon, help me take this off and I'll build you one."
"You wanna take the tire? Why?"
"'Cus of the symbol! It's the Batman symbol, do you know how scared people are of 'em? Show 'em this and nobody'll mess with us."
The kid's got a point. Crime Alley knows Red Hood's symbol like the back of their hand, but somehow Jason doesn't think rolling around a tire rim is going to have the same effect. Jason's about to step in when the kid bends the fucking metal with his bare hand. His fucking bike. It looks like the kid barely broke a sweat, too; just wiped his hands on his jeans and started prying apart front of his motorcycle.
Jason's voice is more biting than he means for it to when he shouts, "Hey!" He swings over the fire escape, landing with a heavy thud, before hauling ass towards the kids. Almost immediately the boy yanks the girl behind him and snarls... and his eyes go Lazarus-green. Jason stops abruptly. His voice is softer, gentler, when he tries again.
"Hey, kid. Don't you know not to go tearing apart people's bikes? C'mon, at least do it the right way."
That makes the boy pause, looking momentarily baffled and the green turning into bright blue. Jason takes that as an in and says, "Y'know, it's a lot faster when you use tools. I've got a wrench in my bag. If you use it like this..."
Jason spends the next thirty-five minutes helping the kids steal his own damn rims. He shouldn't. But he's curious about who these meta kids are and they're almost painfully easy to talk with, they just blabber like they've never heard of keeping a secret before in their lives. They talk about their dad, school, their favorite tv show. And then they talk about "the bad men" and Jason's stomach drops. "The bad men" who drive white vans, capture people, and experiment on them. And that sounds an awful lot like a meta-trafficking ring in his city, dead set on coming after the kids and their dad.
Then he's very, very grateful he's letting the kids take his rims home. After all, what Bat doesn't put GPS trackers in their symbols?)
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.
AKA "Danny moves to Gotham and records TikToks with absolutely deranged captions. He films Get Ready with Me in Gotham videos, fit checks, and even A Day in the Life of a Ghost in Gotham! Except everybody is freaking the fuck out in the comments" prompt idea!
No, you don't understand, I'm obsessed. Like, what if Danny's idea of "safe" is just... anything that doesn't actively try to kill him? So Metropolitians, Star City, and Central City citizens are literally biting their nails and sweating bullets every time he posts, because what if he gets merc'd by the "Eight Heads in a Duffel Bag" Red Hood?? And that's one of the nicer villains in Gotham. And Danny's just like wow, this place is niiiiiice, I haven't even been murdered yet!
Maybe Jazz took a 12-year-old Danny to Gotham to escape their parents. Gotham's cheap, dirty, and doesn't ask questions: it's the best place to go to disappear because damn near half the city's population are either super villains, hostages, dead, or vigilantes. She gets a job at an understaffed hospital as a clinical psych intern. She enrolls Danny for online schooling because she's scared a public high school would be too easy for their parents to track.
Which leaves Danny alone for hours. He makes a TikTok account called "Danny Phantom" because, c'mon, he's a kid. And, like most kids, he doesn't really comprehend the idea of a digital footprint or that his account is public, accessible by literally anybody.
He's also a little shit. So, the first TikTok he uploads is of a man getting carjacked, but the caption reads: love to see people helping each other. remember it's always okay to ask for help! it's okay, I don't know how to parallel park, either :)
And you just see this guy in a mask shove a businessman away from his car, gesturing with his gun, before getting into the driver's seat. Except the car is parallel parked so the carjacker just slowly inches back and forth between a Prius and a Honda until he can wedge himself out of the parking space. And then gets stuck in stand-still traffic. The TikTok goes viral. It's talked about on the Gotham news and Gothamites are losing their shit, pointing out the exact moment you can see the carjacker start to soundlessly cuss through the car's windshield or the way the businessman is just... standing on the side of the road, watching with a deadpan look.
Danny doesn't know about it being on the news, but he sees all the comments, likes, reposts, and feels something. He wonders if this is what Ember feels every time people listened to her music. So, he keeps posting. Usually, it's short three-second videos of a hilariously unexpected situation with an even more deranged caption. But then he's accidentally caught in the reflection of a store front while recording and doesn't know, posts it like he always does; only for this TikTok to go viral, too. Because "Danny Phantom" is a child??
He doesn't notice the shift in his comments, but the public opinion quickly changes from wow, Gothamites are just like that huh lol to what the FUCK, kid, get inside!!! anytime he posts.
Except Danny never gets hurt. Even in the most dangerous situations, when you'd think this kid is a goner for sure, he's just happily yapping in the background. He's so different from Gothamites because he lacks that dead-eyed, despair-inducing aura of someone who's lived in a hellmouth their whole lives. (A couple people post that Danny kind of reminds them of Golden Boy Brucie Wayne, all air-headed and unrealistically optimistic, and suddenly there's memes of "what happens when you've never gotten shot in Gotham" or "how i act when Commish Gordie accuses me of shoplifting again" with them side-by-side.)
And then Danny's posts go viral again and again. Danny doing a fit check with a blond-haired woman with a checkered outfit, she ruffles his hair and kisses him on the cheek. A picture of him wearing an old jean jacket with a bright red lipstick smear on his cheek is trending for weeks. Spoiler, fully suited up in an all-purple vigilante attire, and him shoving gas station hotdogs in their mouths. He even has videos of him clearly in Killer Croc's lair, with comments of are you in the sewers??? DANNY??? and he responds, no, i'm in mom & dad's basement :) (Waylon Jones is actually sitting behind him in one of the videos, intently watching a TV show on an iPad.)
Everybody adores Danny - Rogues, Gothamites, even the Bats. (There's at least six videos of Nightwing teaching Danny how to do backflips, handstands, and other acrobatic moves. Even the youngest Robin has been caught on camera quietly talking with Danny, a shocking lack of violence that left half the city's population suffering from cuteness aggression for the kids.)
So, yeah, Danny belongs to Gotham.
But the internet is widely accessible and Danny made it so, so easy to find him. Jazz obviously didn't know he was posting videos of himself publicly; she was too tired after back-to-back 12 hour shifts at the hospital that she hadn't even checked social media in months. Otherwise, she would've told him to be careful, to never show his face or post his real name on the internet. Then again, Jazz would never have expected all of Gotham (and Superman himself, totally endeared by the kid after Kon and Jon showed him a couple TikToks) would beat the absolute shit out of anybody going after Danny.
Imagine GIW's surprise when they track down Amity's former residential Ghost only to find an entire city frothing at the mouth to protect their Phantom.
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.”
During one night in Gotham, the Bats and the Rogues of Gotham were going about their business with each other. When a bright green light had flashed above the city. And then a big floating piece of land was above Gotham. It showed no signs of falling down, and yet the Rogues were already heading for the island before the Bats once they learned that it wasn't going to crush them.
The island was the size of Gotham itself, with many strange plant life on it, including animals that Damian had wanted to take home (but couldn't as the animals had tolerated him, but wouldn't follow him home). The most prominent thing on the island was the massive castle in the center of it, with the Rogues of Gotham already entering the structure while the Bats are still on their tail.
The castle would fit in Gotham, with its gloomy appearance and feeling to it, and while it is empty of anyone and anything, it looks like it's been maintained quite well.
The Rogues of Gotham had found a treasure Vault and were grabbing anything that they like or could use, but when they try to leave, a green force field prevents them from leaving the Vault.
Of course, all of the Batfam had an intense fight with the Rogues, and when they sent them all to Arkham, they began to explore the castle on the island some more. They came across a grand chamber, with a sleeping boy in the big bed, who had a familiar face. The boy has the same face as Bruce. Sure, he may have white hair and a skin color the same as Damian, but the features are still the same. And then the Boy wakes up from his slumber and looks at them after he stretched out his back and arms.
Danny was enjoying the peace and quiet he had made for himself. He sent Jazz out on a "me day" out in the Infinite Realms for her to relax a little, same can be said for all the staff that's been in his Keep he inherited from Pariah after he bested the Tyrant.
He just wanted to sleep after getting a little more work done on the piles of paperwork he had to do. He had asked Nocturne to prevent him from dreaming, as they are always bad memories from before he permanently moved to the Infinite Realms (His parents cutting him open. His BEST FRIENDS leaving him in Amity to pursue their own things in life while cutting all ties with him. But Jazz wouldn't leave him alone, not like them. Dani had destabilized in his arms after what Vlad did to her. That was Danny's first and only kill, the Fruitloop deserved it after ending his daughter). He may be the Ghost King, but his human half still has basic needs that need to be met, so after his nap, he'll head to a random world to live in it for awhile then return to his Ghost King duties.
But when he woke up, he had seen unknown people in his room, looking at him like they've seen a ghost (Ha!).
"What are you doing in my bedroom? It's rude to sneak into someone's royal bed chambers"
He deadpanned to the group of costume wearing people.
(A massive natural portal took Danny's keep to the DC verse, and it will stay there for quite a long while.)
I'm so glad I live in a world where there's Archive of Our Own
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.
dont worry, he specializes in stem (shenanigans, tomfoolery, escapades, and mischief)