DPxDC Prompt

The fic is here! ✨

Rok Soo's ability isn't Instant AU

Instead of being able to, very briefly and painfully, fuck with time; he got an ability based on all the absolute bullshit that's happened to him.

From the childhood, to his friends dying in front of him. All the shitty rumors that sprouted up, all the shit luck, all of it. Just, all of it.

So instead of Instant, he got Lament.

Lament is a scream capable of leveling buildings, at the cost of absolutely shredding Rok Soo's throat.

As a result of that power, Rok Soo doesn't talk often, and when he does his voice is hoarse and pained. He also refuses to speak at full volume, because while he's got a handle on his power, he's paranoid that he'll slip up.

So when he transfers over to the body of Cale, people notice.

The Young Master went to bed his usual talkative self, but when he woke up?

Barely a word, and when he did speak, a whisper.

Cale barely speaks a word to Ron beyond the single syllable required. Barely bothers to acknowledge Deruth. Relies on hand-speak and notes to talk to merchants.

Deruth is going crazy trying to figure out what the hell happened to his son, Ron is very close behind him because what the hell got past him? He's Ron Fucking Molan.

Then Cale comes home with a bedraggled punk that smells like the trash the killed Ron's family, and Ron has to listen in astonishment as he says more to this jackass than he's said to Ron in a week.

Basically; Cale's power of Lament is so strong and painful that everything Cale is paranoid of letting it slip, that he's selectively mute. This causes many misunderstandings, in true Cale fashion.

Phantom member of JLA hears about the other sidekicks making a team.

Asks if it is okay for his to join them.

Que them meeting Dani/Ellie.

Superman I didn't know you had another sister after seeing them interacting.

Only to be told nope she's my clone

Superman burst into a coughing fit.

Wonder Woman paused and then said, "Oh, that's wonderful! How do you consider her? A sister? A daughter? Perhaps a cousin?"

Phantom and Spirit beamed at her. Phantom answered, "She's a little bit of everything? But mostly a little sister to me."

Then Superman blurted out, "But she's a clone! Shouldn't— I mean— isn't it strange?"

Both ghosts turned to him with green, glowing eyes.

"Pardon?"

"Say that again?"

Superman coughed. "Well— it's just— doesn't it make you uncomfortable that someone with your DNA, who was created by someone that's not you with unknown purposes, is just walking around? Don't you feel like it's an invasion of privacy and ethics to have clones of yourself walking around?"

Phantom and Spirit stared at him.

Then they looked at each other.

Then they both reached inside of themselves and pulled out a notepad and pen, respectively.

Spirit handed Phantom her pulled out item and he wrote something on it before ripping out a page and then giving it to Superman.

Superman stared at the set of numbers in front of him with confusion.

Spirit reached over and patted his elbow.

"It's the number to a trusted psychiatrist. You need it."

2 Dracma

There’s so many prompts where Danny gets kidnapped instead of a Batfam member or visa versa. Usually by a random group of ransomers or the GIW.

Give me the most buckwild kidnapping reason that isn’t that.

Two-Face mistook Dick for Danny and Danny owed him $22 from a bet over five years ago.

Danny gets kidnapped instead of Brucie Wayne even though Bruce is very publicly at an event multiple states away. (The kidnappers aren’t too bright)

Plastic Man (pretending to be Bruce Wayne. Most likely because Batman needed both Bruce Wayne and Batman in the equation and Plastic Man was able to Body double and be there the fastest) Danny wrong place and wrong time happened to be near Plastic Man as he intentionally was jumped by members of a new gang in Gotham. The gang members, connecting very loose dots, take Danny as well as Plastic Man to an undisclosed location (this was intentional by Plastic Man to find out where the new gang operates, the kid wasn’t a part of the plan but hey! Winging it can be just as fun as a plan going perfectly (Batman is nearly yelling Plastic Man to stick to the plan and to not deviate))

Tim doesn’t even remotely look the same as Danny. This one (incredibly reckless, especially for Gotham) Bounty Hunter keeps on trying to bring him in for escaping an extradimensional prison and causing a riot???

This just popped into my head lol

———————————————

Wishes

Batfam fighting cultists but they are actually somewhat competent at magic. They manage to hold them off and finish the summoning.

Danny: *is summoned*

Head Cultist: Great Ghost King, we have summoned you to grant our wish. Please cleanse this world to add to your kingdom.

Danny, full King regalia: *immense power crushes down like increased gravity* You wish? You wish?! I am not a d*mn genie!!! Be glad I am a Benevolent King who isn’t inclined to kill you for this slight! Take heed that when you die and join my kingdom I have already marked you for punishment! *poofs away*

Cultists and Batfam are frozen.

Danny, later: Hahahaha the looks on their faces!

Ok, this addition is golden. So are many of the others, you should definitely check them out, but, I can’t help but love the idea of the Barclan slowly getting smaller and smaller as they all get sent to infiltrate Arkham 1 at a time, and as soon as they get there, they just go: What’s this? Mystery no one can solve? Must know. Need to go back? What for? Too much unknown here. Must stay.

Bonus points if the rougues know that the bats are there too, but like, they’re trying to figure this out too, so fuck it. Let them help. The more people the better.

In Arkham they don't allow outside media in fear of the rouges getting any ideas. This leads to them treating the staff like their own personal TV show, this leads to a level of parasocial obsession that can often be detrimental (See Harley Quinn as a notable example). So when DR. Jazz Fenton comes in with subtle hinting of government conspiracies and a 'i've seen worse' attitude they are INVESTED. Meany of them are staying just for the show, their plans can wait they NEED to know this woman's backstory.

"hey it's been awfully quiet"

"Yeah, new hire at Arkham, it happens sometimes"

*3 months later*

"sooo"

"yeah something's definitely up"

Why am I suddenly picturing a Danny that doesn’t need to sleep because of his ghost half and is seen near constantly, and inconsistent times because of it. He becomes the cryptid Taxi in town-

Now I need a fic where Danny Phantom is an uber driver and has to deal with the batfam ordering him around town, chase scenes, maybe even an intangible moment

One of them yelling, “DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE” maybe killer croc or a big bodied bad chasing after the car (manbat?)

The tips he’d get, but also the complaints because these mfs keep bleeding into the seats

(A scene where he drives into the cave while a bat is knocked tf out in his back seat, drops them off in the med bay, and drives out like a ghost car)

How dare you give me this beautiful sad ending. 😭 Poor Dani, also, poor Jazz. She did not deserve to have all the anger taken out on her, especially when I’m sure she’s grieving too. Would honestly love to see a snippet of what’s happening back in Amity Park right now-

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

Beautiful! I love it!

DPxDC Heritance

There's not much left for Tim in his parents' wills. Or, well, not much by his standards - the rest of the family, barring Bruce and Damian, think he is absolutely loaded and too full of himself to care. Which is maybe a little bit true; receiving about a dozen properties across the world, a trust fund and a wide collection of artifacts that his parents have accumulated through years of their archeological escapades is a lot by middle class standards.

But Tim knows how much money Drakes actually had, and a few old houses and an assembly of junk seems like not much in comparison.

In any case, it's all rather useless in Tim's position. He has no interest in traveling aside from when he has to for a mission, and he couldn't give less shits about archeology even if he tried. The trust fund is fine, he guesses, but it's not like he needs it, what with being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises and one of the Wayne Wards.

So, as morbid as it is, the best reaction he can muster at his inheritance is a shrug and a mention in his mile-long list of 'things I need to figure out when I have time'. Which basically means he'll maybe get to it when he's old and retired, and not any sooner, because Tim Drake the CEO and Red Robin the vigilante are both very, very busy people who never have time.

Naturally, his life has other plans, and it's only two or three months later that Tim finds himself breaking through the balcony window of his own apartment in Praha.

It's at that moment, when he's lying on top of a soft persian rug, surrounded by glass shards and wondering if this move was enough to lose his tail that he realizes his inheritance might be slightly more than just a few properties and some boxes with old things.

Because, through his own heavy breathing, he hears a thoughtful, slightly sarcastic voice from inside the room, "I guess the door was too hard to figure out for you, wasn't it."

He sits up, turning his head so sharply it almost snaps. His eyes immediately fall on a boy not much older than him, sitting with one leg thrown over the other on the dark red couch near the wall. He looks like he clearly belongs here: white, vintage collar shirt and black, high-waist trousers, a silver ring on his thumb that looks too old to have been bought in this century, dark raven hair and perfect porcelain skin.

And he is reading a newspaper. Like a slightly bleeding costumed guy in a domino mask breaking the window and falling onto the carpet is just another Tuesday.

Hold on, this is Tim's house! He double-checked the address, there's no mistake!

"Who are you?" He demands, frowning, as his hands reach to the birdarangs out of habit.

"Keeper of Doors," the boy answers, not looking up and flipping the page, "And you're the Drakes' heir, I assume."

Tim blinks. The response provides no actual answers, it only creates more questions. "What doors?" He asks because the rest of the points can most likely be addressed later. Like the issue of his busted secret identity, right.

The boy sighs and closes the newspaper, folding it in half and uncrossing his legs to sit a bit straighter. "Doors, capital 'D'. The ones that lead everywhere you want."

"The what?.." Tim repeats, dumbfounded and lost in this unexpected nonsense. The boy gives him a truly unimpressed look, his eyebrow twitching. Then, he stands up - Tim's fingers close around the birdarang again - and steps towards the nearest door, grabbing the handle. His feet make absolutely no sound.

"Drake manor," the boy announces and pushes the door open. He doesn't step through, however, instead just standing in the doorway and turning back to Tim, gesturing for him to look.

Tim does.

Seeing the familiar hall, the one he's seen so many times, the one he walked through every day before he moved out, makes him realize a few things at once. One, he needs to revise the list of houses he inherited since it looks like they are not just properties but a map of teleportation points, most likely. Two, his parents knew full well he didn't need the trust fund, it wasn't for him, it was probably for this boy, who may or may not be the, well, gatekeeper. Three, if the first part of his inheritance turned out to be this, he is going to need to call in Zatanna to sort through the collection of his parents' artifacts lest something turns out to be actually cursed in there.

Four, he's been staring at the boy and gaping like a fish for longer than its socially acceptable.

"...What's your name?" He asks, suddenly conscious about the fact he was kind of rude before. The boy snorts, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he closes the door back.

"Danny," he introduces and snaps his fingers. The glass shards around Tim move all at once, rising from the ground and going back towards the window, like a reversed video recording. A second later, the balcony window looks as good as new, not a crack in the glass. "And you?"

"Red Ro-" Tim starts, but then pauses. Fuck it, he might as well, "Tim."

Danny waves his hand in the air, like snatching something out of nowhere, and, just like that, there's a box that looks suspiciously like a first-aid kit in his hands.

"Nice to meet you, Tim. Now, get over here and stop ruining my carpet with your blood."

rebloging so I can always look back and see this masterpiece-

Red Crowned Flight Switching it up from the more complicated paintings with something simple and relaxing. It's nice to let my mind go blank and let the thoughts flow like water~

Meanwhile Bruce, jaw hanging, aghast, frantically trying to keep his hellions from meeting Jonng and Kitty while also trying to figure out how to meet them himself-

DPxDC #12

Johnny 13 and Kitty are from Gotham.

(I Cannot for the life of me find the post that gave me this idea. It was one throwaway line of Ember telling Danny that Johnny 13 used to babysit some kid named Bruce. It was also dpxdc.)

So Johnny 13 was a member of the mob, working for the Waynes. (Thomas and Martha were rich people in Gotham of course they did organized crime)

Johnny gets tasked with babysitting baby Bruce, but always brings his girlfriend Kitty with him. They would be the kind of babysitters that just set the kid up in front of a TV and make out on the couch.

Bruce would just be sat watching The Gray Ghost. Bruce would like them because he would be allowed free access to binge his favorite show.