What Happened To GIW Site-13

Jazz's parents have gotten worse, their passion has turned into an obsession. Her parents don't even know that they are hunting their son every day. Jazz makes a tough call and rings up her uncle-in-law whom she has not had contact with in years.

Commissioner Gordon was not expecting to get a phone call at three in the morning; especially not from an estranged niece that he had seen a handful of times. The last time he seen that side of the family was before his wife had died.

Now he's driving halfway across the country with a confused daughter to meet up with the said estranged family.

DpxDc #10

A bit chilly out, isn't it?

kind of gory? Not in a violent way.

Danny felt cold.

Not his core cold, or winter cold, more like a “walking around without clothes cold”.

Skulker was right, at the end.

He got his pelt, and now…

Well, Danny was walking around without skin. Hence, the cold.

He wasn’t really worried, it would grow back like his missing organs did when the GIW emptied him out.

Long story short, Skulker was a bitch, he should probably find a way to stop dripping with blood (and possibly a coat) and try to figure out where he ended up after taking the wrong portal while escaping.

He was doing well at this point, he thought. The city he was in was gloomy and humid, which was nice since he was starting to dry out pretty fast.

————————————————————————

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-“

Jason stared at the walking flayed guy who was taking a nice stroll around the block.

Every step he took left a matching bloody print, and he could see every single fiber of the muscles tense and relax.

The more he stared at it, the more he hated it.

He immediately reached for the coms.

“I fucking hate it, what the fuck-“

He heard the others connecting.

“Hood, everything alright?”

“Fuck no, oh my god, I’m not gonna be able to sleep anymore, that’s the most fucked up shit I ever saw my entire life, what the fuck”

“Hood, report. What’s going on?” 

“OH MY GOD!” Everybody heard Oracle almost shout from the coms “That’s ugh- I’m gonna throw up, that- ugh-”

“Right?!”

“Hood! Report right now!”

“It’s like-It’s like this guy, walking around without skin and-“

Hood looked down at it. It was looking back.

“You know I can hear you, right?”

DP x DC prompt.

I'm getting in on this shit *cracks knuckles* I have a few different prompts I may post. Some may be all out story ideas.

This one is a mash-up of multiple prompts and fanfics I have read.

So basicly, the accident left Danny with a ton of issues, both mentally and physically. He stutters sometimes, has a few mobility issues, and sometimes he just aches so bad he can't get out of bed. That mixed with the slow heartbeat, shallow breathing, and pale skin of a halfa, he almost seems like one hella sick kid.

His secret gets revealed and instead of his parents hurting him they just tell him to leave and never come back (i love a good vivisection fic, but i personally like to imagine they can't bring themselves to do it). Danny kinda becomes homeless and lives in his car for a bit. He eventually (somehow) learns he is adopted and goes to find his birth parents.

His dad is... you guessed it! Bruce Wayne! He goes to confront him with multiple forms of evidence and Bruce just SHUTS DOWN. He rejects Danny (probably out of fear and regret for not being there for him, again this is based on multiple prompts). Danny, degected, goes back to live in his car. Unbeknownst to him though, the bat kids had been listening in and decided to make Danny part of their family one way or another. So they try everything to get him to stay in Gotham.

Eventually they start to notice the 'medical' issues, they learn of the accident, and see that his grades and attendence in school dropped. Naturally, as any bat clan member does, they connect the dots and think "holy shit, this kid is dying and he just wanted to know his birth family"

Now everyone is pissed at Bruce for rejecting him, Bruce feels worse and and hides away MORE, and Danny is wondering why his step siblings are suddenly far sweeter, but also more protective and worried about him.

Dp x dc: batshit crazy driver au.

Bruce hired a new personal driver for the Wayne's. He was a nice enough guy. His grades weren't great, but he was a great driver and very patient. Like, really patient. Like, he is so unbothered by traffic, stupid drivers, and villain attacks, its kinda scary. But all the background checks came back clean. Minus his mad scientists parents, of course.

Daniel (Danny) Fenton. He could relate to any of the Wayne kids and hold an intelligent conversation with Bruce. Bruce feels that he doesn't need to be all Brucie Wayne around the young man. He doesn't know about their nightly activities yet, though. They're not quite sure if he even needs to know.

The first sign there was something more to Danny happened when Tim was sitting in the passenger seat. Tim was struggling with a math problem. It was driving him nuts. It only took a quick glance for Daniel to solve it, though, "it's thirty-six"

"What?"

"The answer is Thirty-six. You forgot to carry the three."

"Huh..."

He was right, Tim made a simple mistake, sure. But that was advanced college level math. Danny was a straight c student and never went to college. It only took him a momentary glance to solve it. Tim, though suspicious, chalked it up to a simple case of gifted kid syndrome. He related to it and began to consult with Danny on some of his math problems. Danny was more than happy to help, for a price, of course.

Then, there was a villain attack. The villain's goons ran rampant through the city, terrorizing anyone unfortunate enough to be outside at the time. But not Danny, they'll tried, oooh they tried. But those goons swiftly found themselves zip tied, in the trunk of a car, and on their way to jail. All while Danny blasted some music by a small artist named 'Ember'.

Alright. He is in Gotham, and his mother was a black belt, so maybe he was just well trained. Its good to know how to deffend yourself.

Then, Damien was kidnapped. It was so fast they barely saw, but a white van sped by and grabbed Damien as he made his way tawords the car. Initially, Damien expected the chauffeur to panic and call the police. But when shouting and cursing were heard from the front seat, and the men in the back slipped the van door open to check behind them, it was revealed Danny had followed them and he had a gun.

What could only be described as an action movie chase scene ensued. Every corner they swerved, every shortcut they took, Danny was right behind them. Driving like a bat out of hell, he shouted and fired at the wheels of the van. Knocking one out, the van swerved and was forced to come to a stop.

A kidnapper grabbed Damien by the hair and held a gun to his head, but before the threat could even leave his mouth a bullet flew through his hand. He dropped Damien and fell to the ground screaming, clutching his hand.

The kidnapper in the van already took off running but was swiftly stopped by Redhood arriving just in time to see Danny helping Damien up and checking him over, profusely apologizing for "letting this happen."

When asked why he did all of it, his simply answered, "I don't think I would get paid if I let Mr. Wayne's kid die! I can't let a kid die in general!"

Bruce, of course, gave the young man a bonus and a few days off for the stunt. Accompanied wlth a few stern words about safety. What was truly remarkable was that there was not a single scratch on the car. Untouched, meaning he never hit anything during the whole ordeal. "I just learned what not to do from my dad!" He joked, but Bruce felt that, despite the clear joking tone, there was some truth to the statement.

The family is suspicious, very suspicious. The man they previously viewed as their simple and humble driver turned out to be a monster of a fighter, and they have no idea how or why.

----------------------‐------

A/N: Feel free to add onto this in any way you would like :3

True Sight

So I've seen this concept and this concept that Danny can somehow see the true nature of supernatural things.

This can be applied to SO MANY crossovers.

He meets Jake Long, and sees a silhouette of a dragon.

Juniper Lee looks like a she has a flaming shield on her back, shackled to her by rusty chains.

Steven Universe somehow looks like a 100 m monster, a giant princess, a large woman, and a really big pink guy all at the same time, depending on the exact angle he's looking at.

He almost goes blind when he meets Sakura Kinomoto. Her power is overwhelming and bright. Oddly enough, he's almost invisible to her.

He has no idea what to make of Q when he somehow ends up in an alternate 24th century. All he knows is that he's never seen anything that powerful, and never will again.

He can't see the true form of cybertronians the same way he can see through the paranormal, but energon leaves an odd taste in the air that makes their vehicle modes ineffective against him. He freaks out a little when he meets Sari.

Johnny Blaze feels every level of wrong imaginable and looks even worse.

Constantine is literally wrapped up in litigation.

He meets the Spectre ONCE and vows to never see him again.]

Another DPxDC drabble, this time Sam going to Bruce Wayne for help

Who knows, maybe I'll add this to the dead on main fic I'm working on. We'll see. Anyway, more under the cut.

The air was cold and clammy, laden with heavy gray clouds and drizzling sheets of rain when Sam Manson stepped out onto the driveway. The rain pattered a steady rhythm on her black umbrella and she folded her long batwing sleeve over her arm to shut the car door behind her. The sleek black airport taxi idled quietly behind her as she turned to take in the familiar mansion looming before her.

The wrought iron gate arcing above her head was slick with rain, but a singular call button and speaker sat sheltered out of the rain. Sam approached and reached to press the button with a single black-tipped finger. The speaker hummed to life a moment later.

“Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth speaking. How may I help you?” The voice was smooth and poshly British, and Sam took a breath of the cool October air.

“Samantha Manson to see Bruce Wayne,” she murmured into the cold metal. It felt wrong to speak at any higher of a level.

There was a moment’s pause and Sam smoothed her hand over the black lace of her dress. She could do this.

“Were we expecting you this evening, Ms. Manson?” The voice replied after a moment.

Sam pursed her lips together and raised her chin. She put on her best impression of her mother. “No, you were not. However, I believe this to be a matter urgent enough to warrant such a visit.”

“I see,” Pennyworth said. And then, “Why don’t you come in out of the rain? I will contact Master Bruce once you’re safely indoors.”

Sam let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.”

“Please, call me Alfred.”

Then the speaker clicked off and Sam took a step back so the gates could slowly swing open on their motorized hinges. She waved off her driver and watched them reverse down the long driveway, then turned back to the building that loomed above her. She took a breath.

She could do this.

⋆₊✧₊⋆

The foyer of Wayne Manor looked much the same as Sam remembered from the few galas she’d attended within its walls – vaulted ceilings, sweeping staircases, and two wings diverging off to the left and right. To Sam’s knowledge, neither she nor any of the other gala guests had ever ventured beyond the ground floor before. She wondered if that would change tonight.

Alfred Pennyworth took her umbrella at the door and she made sure to lightly wipe her boots on the mat inside the door. She felt the inherent urge to remove them before stepping further into the house, but none of the Waynes seemed to be from a similar culture, so she dismissed the feeling.

Alfred showed Sam the way to the drawing room to the right and gestured at one of the many cushy couches. “Have a seat if you wish, Ms. Manson,” he said politely. “Master Bruce is finishing up a call in his study and will be out to greet you shortly. In the meantime, may I offer you some tea?”

Sam took a seat and nodded, folding her hands in her lap. “Earl Grey if you have it, please.” Alfred nodded and stepped through a side door that Sam hadn’t even noticed. And then she was alone.

She took a deep breath and clasped her hands tightly together. She was here now, and there was no going back. If she intended to go through with her plan, she couldn’t back down now. The entire endeavor was a long shot, but it was the only option she had left.

The only option Danny had left.

Alfred returned after a few minutes with a tray laden with fine china and two steaming cups of tea. There were also tea sandwiches and scones, and Sam took one comprised of cucumber and cream cheese along with her tea. She thanked the butler again, and he backed out of the room with a bow. She almost felt like she was back in Japan.

A clock on the far side of the room ticked away the time. One minute, then two, then three. After seven movements of the minute hand, footsteps sounded from the foyer. Sam placed her teacup down and folded her hands once again in her lap as Bruce Wayne approached.

“Samantha,” he said warmly as he swept into the room. He was dressed in a crisp navy suit with the top few buttons undone. His shoes were a clean but well worn pair of loafers. “Or Sam, rather. Is that right?” Sam nodded. Mr. Wayne crossed to and settled into a chair opposite Sam, seizing the second cup of tea from the tray on the low table between them. He grinned at her over the lip of it. “To what do I owe this pleasure? It’s not often that people make the journey to Gotham, and certainly not all by their lonesome.”

Sam gave the man a small smile. She wanted to slap the joviality off his face.

“I’m afraid I’m here for business,” she said instead. “Not pleasure.”

Mr. Wayne’s eyebrows raised and he set his teacup down.

“Is that so?” He asked. He leaned back in his seat and regarded her with keen eyes, sweeping them clinically over her person before returning his gaze to her face. “What business do you wish to discuss, then? I don’t recall having any dealings with your parents in recent memory.”

“That’s correct,” Sam said as evenly as she could. She got the distinct impression Mr. Wayne was humoring her. She squared her shoulders. “I should clarify that I’m not here on my parents’ behalf. I’m here for my own interests.” He raised his eyebrows higher. “Or, I should say, the interests of the world.”

There was a pause. Wayne sat up a little straighter.

“The interests of… the world?” He repeated.

Sam nodded. “It is my understanding that you are one of the main financial backers for the Justice League. Is that correct, Mr. Wayne?”

“It is,” Mr. Wayne confirmed, eyebrows drawing together.

“And the Batman?” Sam pushed.

“Well…” Wayne laughed slightly at that and waved a vague hand in the air. “If he were to exist, then sure. But he’s scarcely more than a ghost.”

“He was on national television with Wonder Woman last week, sir,” Sam deadpanned.

Mr. Wayne chuckled and spread his hands like what can you do? Sam did not return his smile. She was quickly becoming sick of seeing his stupidly bright teeth and she hadn’t been in his presence for 10 minutes. She ground her teeth.

When Sam didn’t respond, Mr. Wayne dropped his hands and studied her face. Then he sat up straighter in his chair and met Sam’s gaze seriously.

“What’s this about then, Sam?” He asked. Sam tried not to prickle too obviously at the use of her name. “What business on behalf of the world have you traveled all this way to present to me?”

Sam took a slow breath through her nose. She unclasped her hands, blood rushing back into them at the release of pressure. She’d brought the folder, but the idea of actually handing it over had her stomach clenching. Amity Park and its inhabitants were her best kept secret, the one she and her friends didn’t dare to speak of outside of its borders. And more than that…

“Have you ever heard of the Ghost Investigation Ward, Mr. Wayne?”

The words just sort of fell out of her mouth, but it worked well enough as a start. It was clearly not what Wayne had expected her to say, at least. The man across from her blinked a few times before his face settled into a confused frown.

“I can’t say that I have. And, please, call me Bruce.” Sam nodded once. She’d expected that Bruce wouldn’t know of the GIW, of course, had even hoped so. But it still stung to be reminded how alone she and her friends had been in dealing with this for all these years.

Sam took a steeling breath. She could do this.

Sam reached into the depths of her sleeve and withdrew the folder. She set it carefully on the table between the two of them, to the right of the tea tray. Bruce tracked the motion before returning his quizzical gaze to her. Sam’s heart rabbitted in her chest, but she forced herself into calm. She breathed in and out once, then spoke.

“This file contains all of the information I have on an agency funded solely by the US government that has been carrying out unlawful experimentation on nonhuman entities for nearly half a decade.”

Silence. Wayne stared. Sam pushed on.

“Their work is in direct contradiction with the Meta Protection Acts, yet they have full authorization from and the full support of the federal government. They–”

“That is quite the accusation,” Bruce interrupted with a frown. Sam couldn’t help the glare she shot his way.

“It’s not an accusation,” she said forcefully. Perhaps a bit too forcefully, because Wayne leaned back slightly in his chair. She took a long breath and searched for that internal place of calm. This was for Danny. She didn’t have the freedom or luxury of letting her emotions control her right now.

She tried again.

“It’s not an accusation, Bruce,” she repeated more calmly. “It’s the truth. This file,” she tapped the closed brown cover and Mr. Wayne’s eyes followed the movement, “should have everything required to substantiate my claims and more. It contains copies of the contracts signed between the ward and the Homeland Security, as well as receipts for funds provided by the government in order to create their so-called ‘experimental facilities.’”

She couldn’t help the way her lips curled into a sneer as she spoke, but Wayne wasn’t looking at her. His eyes had locked onto the Homeland Security crest stamped across the file in front of him. Good.

“The file also contains records of the ward’s stated goals, recent movements, and the results of all of their experiments, up until about a month and a half ago. Once reviewed, I’m sure you’ll find that everything about this agency, from its methods to the very purpose of its creation, is at odds with everything the Justice League stands for.”

And you, I hope, she added silently. Please don’t stand for it, either.

Wayne was flitting between looking at the file and Sam, questions swimming in his eyes. Before he could interrupt again, Sam flipped open the folder to its first page. Bruce sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the file and leaned forward to inspect it. 

Sam watched his eyes rove over the photos Tucker had managed to pull from the GIW’s database before they’d moved it offline: the torn and broken bodies of countless ghosts, the remains of beings that had been ripped apart for no reason beyond human hate and curiosity. Wayne’s eyes were wide as he took it all in, and his skin had paled to an ashy grey. Good.

“This is the business I traveled all this way to discuss with you,” Sam told him grimly. His eyes flicked to hers momentarily before they were drawn inexorably back to the carnage laid out before him. He pulled the file closer, mouth pressed into a thin line. “This is why I ventured to Gotham all by my lonesome and showed up on your step with no warning. These are the interests of the world I come to represent.”

Sam let him take in the horror before him, to soak in the ghastly knowledge that Sam had been living with for over a year now, for a long minute. When he took a breath and began to pull back, she snapped the folder closed and returned it to her sleeve. Bruce looked up when she did so, and she could’ve laughed at the look on his face if the situation weren’t what it was. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Sam,” Bruce said gravely, sinking back into his chair with a shake of his head. “This is–” he started, but Sam held her hand up. She wasn’t finished yet.

Bruce complied, leaning back in his chair and covering his mouth with a hand. Sam folded hers back into her lap.

“I am under no illusions that you extended me the favor of this unplanned meeting for any reason other than my family’s name,” Sam told him. Bruce didn’t even try to object. “So I am going to ask that you keep your opinion of me and my name in mind when I ask you for this next favor.”

Sam met his gaze, willing him to understand how much she needed this. How much Danny needed this. This was their last resort.

After a long, tense moment, Wayne nodded. “I’ll listen,” he said softly. “Whatever you need, I’ll hear you out.”

Sam’s throat tightened at the words, and she nodded stiffly. She was almost done. She could get through this.

“If you mean that,” she started, but her voice broke. She swallowed it away. “If you mean that, then what I need from you, Mr. Wayne, is a meeting with the Batman.”

The silence after the words left her mouth felt suffocating. Bruce just looked at her. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she held his gaze defiantly, chin raised. She wouldn’t let him say no. He couldn’t say no.

“The Batman?” Wayne asked after a moment. She nodded again, through the lump in her throat. Bruce frowned, steepling his fingers in front of his face. Then, “Why the Batman?”

Sam blinked. “Sorry?” She asked.

“Well, why not any of the other members of the Justice League? Surely this is something that could be investigated by any one of them.”

“I…” Sam didn’t have a response prepared for that. She squeezed her hands together. “I guess… he’s the one I trust the most to get justice.”

Wayne nodded slowly, considering her through calm eyes. “Is that what you want?” He asked. “Justice?”

Sam hesitated. There were a lot of things she wanted. Justice was one. Revenge, another. Danny to be safe more than anything, really.

But when she thought of herself, of Tucker and the people of Amity Park, of the ghosts who had simply left the Zone at the wrong time…

“Yes,” Sam whispered. Her throat burned. “I want justice.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, to hope for. There were so many ridiculous things she hoped for these days.

“I want to see the GIW demolished,” she continued despite herself. She clasped her hands hard, feeling the muscles shift and the bones grind. A tear threatened to slip down her cheek. “I want to see the agents pay for what they’ve d-done. I want to look every single o-one of them in the fa-face and know that they understand what they’ve d-done. The lives they’ve ruined.”

A sob bubbled up and Sam tried to push it away but it was no use. Now that she’d started, there was no stopping it, no stemming the waves of emotion.

“I want them to understand it and to be f-forced to live with it,” she said through gritted teeth. Tears slipped freely down her cheeks. “I want what they did to destr- destroy them like it’s destroyed u-us. And I want- I want anyone, anyone at all, to acknowledge that they- they left us there! They- they left us there! In that fucking town to rot! To deal with it by ourselves and we can’t- I can’t- I can’t-” Sam covered her mouth with one half numb hand, but the sobbed words came anyway. “I can’t save him!”

Just saying the words out loud had Sam doubling over on the couch, sobs wracking through her body. It felt so good to finally say it, to finally admit it to herself, that she couldn’t reel herself in.

“Oh god,” she cried into her knees. “I can’t- can’t- I couldn’t save him! He’s- and I can’t do anything!” She pressed her skull into the bone of her knees, panting into her skirt as sobs wracked uncontrollably through her body.

A weight dipped onto the couch beside her, and suddenly Sam was tilting over slightly into a strong, warm body. Mr. Wayne didn’t say anything as he held her. He didn’t offer the empty assurances she had come to expect from adults, didn’t try to convince her it was okay, or that she didn’t need to be so upset. He just pulled Sam gently onto his lap and let her cry and cry and cry.

Sam didn’t know how long she laid there, hiccupping and sniffling into Mr. Wayne’s cotton suit. It was just until the burning, aching guilt began to abate, and she was finally able to quell the tears.

Once she’d stopped crying, the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. Mr. Wayne’s arm was a reassuring weight across her shoulder and back. Sam listened to the clock tick away across the room and tried to breathe in time with the second hand. Seven seconds in, eleven seconds out – just like Jazz had taught them.

Tears returned to her eyes at the memory, but she just let them fall where they may. She didn’t have enough energy to do much else.

“Why don’t you stay the night in one of our guest rooms, Sam,” Mr. Wayne suggested quietly. He rubbed a gentle hand up and down her arm. “Most of my children are away from home at the moment, so you’ll have the floor to yourself. It’ll just be my youngest, Damian, on the floor below you. Alfred can make it up for you now, if you’d like?”

Sam sniffed and pushed herself into a sitting position. Her face felt tight and dry despite the waterworks, and she resisted the urge to wipe at it. She relished the idea of being able to wash away her ruined makeup and sleep the day off in a real bed, rather than at the hotel as she’d planned.

“Yes,” she agreed quietly. “That sounds very nice, thank you.” She saw Mr. Wayne smile at her from the corner of her eye before he stood and called for Alfred. The two of them had a quiet conversation that she ignored in favor of gathering herself further, and then the butler vanished once again. Sam looked up at Bruce.

“You… You believe me, right?” She asked tentatively. She felt childish saying it, but she had to know this hadn’t been a waste. She had to know there was still hope. “You’ll think about what I said?”

Bruce Wayne gave her a soft smile, much realer than the ones she’d received when she’d first arrived. He returned to his spot on the couch and took her hand, looking her in the eye.

“If there is any truth to what you’ve told me,” he started and Sam couldn’t help the face she made. “Of which I have no doubt,” Bruce added quickly, with another slightly ironic smile. Then his face grew more serious, and he gently squeezed her hand between both of his. “Then I will do everything in my power to see the GIW stopped and shut down, permanently. You will get your justice, Sam. I guarantee it.”

And, just for that moment, Sam actually believed him.

Red Knight - Prologue

DP x DC | Dead on Main

Jason Todd encounters one Danny Fenton in the streets of Gotham and suddenly he's thrown into a world of ghosts and monsters. Will he embrace this life? Or will it just end up with him dead again?

Read on AO3 | Next >

---

“Why are you following me?” Jason pressed his arm against the stranger’s throat, pinning him to the alley wall.

Under the sodium glow of the streetlight Jason got his first good look at the guy. Tall, dark hair, maybe his age or a little younger. Not the type he typically saw in the Narrows- he lacked that certain air of despair. The stranger had been following Jason since he’d left his safe house. Maybe the guy thought Jason would be an easy mugging target. Wasn’t he in for a surprise.

The stranger lifted his face and smiled. His blue eyes glowed with a green ethereal light. “How long have you been dead?”

He said it with the casual nonchalance of talking about the weather. Jason tensed, pressing harder on his arm. How the hell did this guy know?

The guy didn’t flinch. He didn’t seem bothered at all. That could only mean one thing.

Jason steadied his breath. “Metas aren’t welcome in Gotham.”

“I’m not a meta. And neither are you. But that doesn’t mean we’re totally human either.”

The stranger tilted his chin up, his smile broadened. Behind his lips he revealed a pair of fangs glinting, taunting.

From nowhere Memories of the pit stirred under Jason’s heart— rage and pain and fear. His pulse raced faster. His arm pressed harder.

As if responding to the pressure the guy’s face softened. “Oh. It’s worse than I thought.” He sounded genuinely concerned. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Shut up!” Somehow the pity stung worse than the taunts.

Jason pulled his fist back to punch the look off the guy’s face, but he didn’t get the chance to. The guy went translucent. He moved through Jason’s arm like a ghost but then suddenly his hands were solid against his chest, pushing with surprising force, sending him stumbling backward to the slimy concrete.

He fell prone and then the stranger was on top of him. Adrenaline flashed through him- too late. His breath clogged in his throat as cold clutch of power hit him. The strangers face twisted in concentration as he put a hand to and then through Jason’s chest.

The fury of the pit raged and roared, nearly as loud as it had when Jason had taken those first screaming breaths back alive. Jason fought, punching and clawing but the guy held form, unshakable. His ears rang and pain sang through his whole body and it felt like he was turning inside out and then—

Quiet.

Quiet, empty relief.

He breathed out. A cool weight sat heavy under his heart where previously there had been a nest of scorpions.

Jason’s mouth fell open. The guy pulled his hand back with a sigh and stood up.

“That should help I think.”

Jason looked down at his chest- unscathed. A thousand questions scrolled through his head. The one that made it out of his lips: “What the fuck?”

The guy shrugged as he stepped back. “Gotta look out for you. You’re one of mine.”

One of mine. Those words sent a shiver through Jason. This guy was obviously a dangerous meta. Jason had been embarrassingly helpless to stop him doing whatever it was he just did. Time for some answers.

Jason rolled up to a fighting crouch and pulled a handgun from his belt. He leveled its comforting weight at the not-meta meta. “I don’t belong to anybody.”

The stranger’s smile came back, and so did his fangs. Jason bit his tongue.

The guy pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket and scrawled for a moment, completely nonplussed by the gun pointed at him. “Call me if it gets bad again?”

Jason didn’t move. He gripped the gun tighter. “Who are you?”

Still that smile. “I’m Danny.”

And then he vanished. Not a Batman fade-into-the-shadows type of vanish. One second he was there and the next- nothing but air. The paper he’d written on fluttered down to the ground in the place where he’d stood.

Jason lowered the gun. He got up to walk away, ready to chalk up the whole experience to some meta bullshit he didn’t want to think about again.

But a new weight sat heavy in his chest. The quiet lingered in his head. Whatever that guy did, it made him feel more calm, more in control of himself than he had in a long time. Halfway through that thought the wind picked up and threatened to blow the paper away. Jason’s stomach dropped as he scrambled to catch it. He closed his fist around it just as it reached the street.

He uncrumpled it between his fingers. A phone number, nothing else. On the other side— a receipt for bat burger. What the fuck.

Next >

"The Entity Known as Phantom has finally been Discorperated."

The rest of the broadcast faded to background noise as the Teen Titans sat in stunned silence. The pride from the announcer, in his all white suit and dark sunglasses, felt thick and oily and slimy as it made their hackles raise.

They'd heard of the G.I.W. a few times in passing, but even Phantom had brushed the group off as a non-issue, saying he'd been dealing with and evading them for three years. The group was supposedly as incompetent as incompetent got.

So then how? And when? It'd only been a few days since he'd said he was going to visit his sister. He wasn't even expected back for another week and a half.

How had they gotten their hands on Phantom, who could consciously control how physical he was at a given moment?

And how could they have "Discorperated" a ghost?

Would Phantom return?

Could Phantom return?

What, exactly, did they mean by "Discorperated" anyway?

Each member of the team was now looking at each other as thoughts swirled and unasked questions remained unanswered. The News was muted, though no one could quite remember who had hit the control. "Tense" wasn't quite the right word to describe the air, but it was awfully close.

Kon snapped his head to the side, however, breaking the silent group staring contest when he heard the nearly silent wet sniffle from behind the couch. Straining his hearing and every other power under his command didn't reveal anything else to him, however. He didn't hide anything when asked, and it gave them the slightest hope that, just maybe, their friend might still be around.

---

The Justice League had cracked down hard after one of their own, a hero, a child, had been hurt. Possibly permanently.

It only took Batman and Oracle a week to access the G.I.W. test logs. Find the video and written reports of the direct application of Ectoranium leading to "Destabilizing of the Concentrated Ectoplasm at the Core of the Entity."

Superman had cursed when those words were read at the next League meeting, his hands clasped tightly in front of his mouth as he trembled with barely restrained fury. He wasn't the only one, either. They all felt like they had failed.

---

There were riots, ongoing, demanding justice for the ghost, the boy, who'd saved so many people and never asked for anything in return. Everyone who knew anyone was speaking up, interviewing with talk shows, news broadcasts, podcasts, papers, and magazines. Word was getting out everywhere, and even other countries were having protests. After all, the League protected the world, and the Titans had gone just as far.

---

A Shadow seemed to have taken up residence in the Titan's Tower. A few weeks had passed now since Phantom had last been seen.

It didn't take long for word to spread, and now they were holding a small seance with Zatanna and Raven. An untouched Ouija board and radio set in the center of the small circle. Lit candles formed a loose circle around their circle of friends.

One of the candles briefly flickered a signature green as Zatanna led, offering the radio and board for whatever spirit was with them to use, but not to keep. The radio briefly lit green before sputtering and dying.

"Spirit with us, what is your name?" Names hold power, after all, and with a name they could banish the spirit if they need to.

The plamchet slowly moved across the board, pausing deliberately to spell D-A-N-N-Y.

"Danny, do you know the name, Phantom?" Words had to be very deliberate with unknown spirits, after all. Zatanna was more familiar with the rules, so she led for now.

The plamchet slid over to YES.

"Danny, does Phantom still exist in some way beyond memory and word and deed?"

YES.

"Danny, will you tell us how you know Phantom?" Indirect, with an opportunity to elaborate. Not every spirit would answer a question like that, but if the spirit was especially helpful, it just might.

YES. A-M. Hope blossomed for a moment, and in the pause, the plamchet continued. D-A-N-N-Y-P-H-A-N-T-O-M.

"Phantom's name is Danny? And you are Phantom, Danny? Is that correct?" The last thing they wanted was false hope, so better to clear everything up if they could.

YES. YES. YES.

Hopeful looks were shared around before excitement filled the room. Their friend was here, still. Zatanna gave a nod for the Titans to keep going.

"How are you feeling, P?"

W-E-A-K.

T-I-R-E-D.

"Is there anything we can do to help? We miss you, man."

There was a pause before it moved again. M-I-S-S-U-2.

S-T-A-R-S-?

"You wanna stargaze with us tonight, P?"

YES P-L-S.

"I'll get the blankets!"

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?

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..."