Take My Heart, Take My Name

Danny, homeless and hungry on the streets of Gotham, smells Condiment King and attacks him mid fight with the bats. At this point Danny is half feral from hunger and CK is yelling as this random kid steals all his stuff. The bats quickly lose track of this kid, partially because of thier own laughter.

Or

Dannys already having a hard time in Gotham. He wasn't sure how he got here and Clockwork is either ignoring him or can't hear him so he has to figure something out on his own.

Que Condiment King repeatedly destroying every place he tries to live (usually by accident or by being caught in the crossfire of this rouges fights) eventually Danny loses his cool and creates his own food themed hero/villian. That's right.

Pepsi-man

Of course Pepsi exists in the DC universe (maybe not, but it does now cause I say so) and with it the ye old commercials or Pepsi-man- Pepsi's failed mascot- also exist.

So whenever Pepsi-man appears people are in disbelief and go "Pepsi-man?!" And are baffled. Danny of course isn't that ripped...or tall...or an adult...but his parents were evil mad scientists and he and Jazz were raised from a young age to be thier heirs in a way. So naturally he made a robotic exoskeleton to pilot around. That was Pepsi-man. Danny never speaks as Pepsi-man, and uses exaggerated body language and gestures to get his point across.

Ya know.

Whenever he's not actively making Condiment King eat dirt.

Vampire? In Gotham! (part 1)

Summary: Danny's 19, a prince, a halfa, and tired of being these things. So he jumps on the idea of a vacation as soon he's given the hint of a chance. The only caveat is that he's going to go undercover as a vampire in a big city - Gotham - far from his home dimension. He finds it's easier than he thought it would be. He's already mostly there.

Relationships: Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton), John Constantine & Danny Fenton

Um? Inspired by several prompts and other fanfics. Lost Between Our Needs and Wants AU definitely, with a background Danny's summoned by Ra's as Damian as a sacrifice. Nothing bad happens (to Damian) don't worry. Also, the one in which Danny decided to fight ghosts as a human too.

And John is almost definitely ooc, he's a character I enjoy a lot even though I don't have a firm grasp of his canon.

Danny's afterlife has been way too interesting for way too long. It's gotten to the point that when things suddenly go quiet for months, he hardly hesitates to give his "human" life some over-due attention.

For obvious reasons he's not going to try his "vacation" in his own dimension. Anyone he once might have stayed for know how to get a hold of him, whenever and wherever.

The Amity Park portal is still open. But between the stricter laws on ghosts wanting to use permanent portals he managed to get passed, and the increasingly feral ways the townsfolk have begun defending each other with, Danny feels confident to finally...let go. In his heart, he had always thought of it as still his, despite not being there to maintain it in truth. But now it's not his Haunt anymore, fully and completely.

They don't need him anymore.

And Danny doesn't want to be needed like that again, to be honest. He sacrificed so much to play hero because he got it into his head that he had to do everything alone in the end. As if he was the only one who could kick ghost butt on the daily in town.

Thankfully, a nineteen year old Danny is smarter than a fourteen year old Danny. He's learned the art of delegation. Any tasks that he doesn't need to be present for, he has a whole team of ghostly assistants to handle things for him. The major multidimensional crises have for the most part been solved - his protection Obsession at the very least fed. And quite a few skeleton thralls he freed near the beginning of his reign were suddenly looking for direction. Among them, a decent amount found the talent and fulfillment in positions of bureaucratic power that Danny never will, filling up spots he's unwilling to give out like the candy the various ghosts of nobility treat the roles as. Or ghost nobility. Like the Ancients. Quite a few of the Ancients are assholes.

(At least all the murderous Ancients aren't problems anymore)

With all their help, he's able to occasionally pop in to do paperwork, meet with the High Court for various lawmaking and judicial decisions, and listening to official petitions to the Crown from his people. It's all good. No mountains of unseen paperwork, no audience with the Observants every waking moment, no one across the Realms screaming desperately for help. Even some of the cults have finally caught on that he's not Pariah!

So Danny starts the process of finding a new Haunt for his new, normal, alive alter ego. Staying as long as he has in the Realms couldn't have been sustainable long-term if he didn't want to become a full ghost. As complicated as his relationship with his humanity is these days, he still doesn't want to die again. And Frostbite definitely has been pushing him to finding new territory, in the Infinite Realms or otherwise. Because even for full ghosts going Hauntless for long periods is straining. To say the least.

Although, being just a human again...didn't sit right. Even after all this time. His human form is still one Danny Fenton, in his eyes.

He can never be Danny Fenton again. He accepted that his duties as Crown Prince would keep him away from the identity of the ghost hunter's ghost hunting son, who went to Casper high and had terrible grades in everything but science; the kid who was shoved into lockers and who was addicted to Nasty Burger and played DOOMED with his friends and who wanted to be an astronaut. He accepted that he had to leave that all behind, and be full ghost in all but form. His parents wouldn't want him if they knew everything he lied about, anyways. He didn't actually deserve the name Fenton.

His new Haunt would preferably be in a place where he could reasonably pass himself off as another species, then, and still be safe. Safer than being a ghost at least. Most universes had well-deserved folklore against the Realms. His people are not inherently malevolent...But he knows that they don't play nice and careful with the living.

He would need an ectoplasm rich environment, too. A big city with lots of crime would go a long way for providing the ambient death and fear vibes that would attract Blobs like a bee to nectar. It would also make it feel like the Infinite Realms - hopefully. He's gotten accustomed to that kind of environment. He thinks he may never sleep again in a place quiet and safe.

He'd like a place with a rich history too. Just for fun!

Danny mulls it over carefully, narrowing down universes he could reasonably start his search in. The only universe he can think of with extensive protections for the non-human written into law is one far-flung flavor of an Earth he's semi-familiar with. He's been there twice, both at 16, just starting out and stressed to hell and back with the sheer load of unattended problems Pariah left to rot.

Both times he'd been more than he'd have liked. One Ra's Al Ghul wasn't technically his problem. He was no one's problem now, and that was current Danny's whole issue with it.

John Constantine is an unlamented saint for putting up with a feral teenaged Danny's slap dash attempt at helping the both of them - John with his soul related doom, and Danny with his paperwork related misery.

But. Considering how he handled the contract with Al Ghul, Danny can't blame John for hesitating to renegotiate their terms already. Ra's Al Ghul was an idiot who gave him what he thought was the life of his grandson, in exchange for immortality.

Him. The Prince of the Dead. Immortality.

Thankfully, the wording was imprecise. What he actually traded was the kid's really cool sword - the kid kneeling, terrified eyes meeting his before darting away, offering his own sword to let Danny slit his throat and "collect his due sacrifice", Danny not being able to breathe through his own fear - for pure ectoplasm, with instruction to drink it everyday until he ran out.

This of course killed even him months later from over-exposure.

The man probably felt a mile high in the air, indestructible, right up until he crashed. Al Ghul promptly became a ghost. Which. Closest thing to true immortality the Prince of the Dead could offer him. He kept his end of the deal. It's not his fault that Al Ghul never specified that he didn't want to die to be immortal. It's also not his fault that Al Ghul had so many dead enemies and victims on the other side who were easy to find. It was ridiculously easy - they made a support group around being taken down by the LOA. And who was he to deny the dead their due vengeance?

Right. So John is understandably nervous about Danny owning all the pieces of his soul, no matter how much rapport they've built these past three years. Danny is mature enough to admit that it is his fault for that bit.

On the bright side for Danny, that means one grumpy occult detective in a sad trenchcoat is a guy who lives in his phone. Like an uncle-shaped tamagachi!

He scrolls though his contact list until he thumbs John's number. Surprisingly, instead of going to voicemail, he picks up on the first ring.

"Before you ask, yes I'm cashing in a favor, finally. No, it's nothing evil, I've just got the first actual free time I've had in five years and I'd like to get suggestions on a city to move to."

-------------------

John ended up giving a very detailed list in response. Suspiciously detailed, and hardly prompted. How long had John been thinking on this? And why?

Danny chalked it up to the man's reasonable paranoia when it came to him. John's aware he can pretend to be (fully) human with relative ease, afterall. And the older man knows where he'd need to be able to actually live long term. After-live. Whatever. Point is, John probably made it his business to know where any sneaky invasions would start if Danny ever became a little less morally ambiguous and a little more bloodthirsty.

Entirely fair! Pariah wasn't always a tyrant!

On the very top was Gotham, a city in this world's Jersey, and the crime capitol of the States. Plenty of ambient ectoplasm, and planty of charged emotions wafting from every street corner. He doesn't voice this, but Danny figures that there must be a whole community of ghosts already living there because of that double whammy.

Something about the city's name tickles his memory, but can't quite pin it down. If it was important he'd have remembered. Right?

John is thrown when he asks about his options of other non-humans Danny could reasonably get away with impersonating.

"And why," the occultist half-accuses, "would you of all spooks, want to live in Gotham, as a 'vacation', just to not even pretend to be normal?"

"First of all, ow. John you know just because someone is different doesn't mean they're not normal. I thought you were the cool uncle." He responds half-heartedly. Danny bites his bottom lip, rolling it between his sharp teeth as he tries to think of a part two to that answer that wouldn't get uncomfortably personal.

John doesn't rise to his bait. Danny hears him unscrew something metallic, then the sound of fluid swishing quietly from the other end. Ah.

The silence wears on. Danny should hang up. But winging things have always gotten him into bigger trouble. And John is the guy to call for this. Fuck. And he's bad at lying bold-faced.

Fine.

"I'm half human," Danny responds as if that would explain everything. It doesn't, so he manages to continue in a small voice that he doesn't even remember the last time he'd used. "Sometimes I still pretend to be one when I can't see any other way. But I had my chance at playing the part of both. And I royally screwed it up, literally! I became freaking royalty and I just couldn't anymore. As far as anyone but my doctor is concerned, I'm full ghost. I had a chance - I don't deserve another one. Screw ups don't get nice things."

John takes another swig from his flask, mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like 'of course he's a fecking halfa'. His voice is rough around the edges from whatever cheap booze he just drank a concerning amount of.

"Listen. Sounds like you've got trauma dripping from your ears, kid. But what's the point here, huh? Sounds like you want to be human without all the fuss of it." John drawls out.

Danny takes a deep breath in through his nose. He tries to fight down the feeling of being peeled open for the world to see - being afraid isn't helpful right now. He needs to be silly, nonchalant, like he's always been with John in tense situations. Why do they only talk when things are tense, anyways?

"Essentially. It's more like. I want to have all the human experiences I missed out on, but without having to hide being inhuman. That kinda thing."

"And you can't just be a ghost?"

"I really don't think anyone likes being ghosted."

"Don't you start on that. You know what I mean, Princeling."

"Fine. No, I can't be a ghost. That's boring and no one likes being haunted."

John gives a long sigh. After a beat, he acquiesces. "Alright. You could pull off vamps damn well. Got the hair for 'em. The teeth and claws are only slightly off. There's several clans with different looks the same way humans have ethnicities. Although, I don't think that's the same, now that I'm thinking about it. But subspecies doesn't fit either."

Danny hums, tilting his head in thought. "Like the difference between a banshee and a specter?"

"Yeah, like that. All vamps, just different enough, and no kind older than another to say they're the 'main' species." John clarifies. Another pause. "Unless you count Halfas. Which. Some people do but shouldn't. Bloody idiots."

Danny startles, nearly dropping his phone. "Excuse me?"

John snorts. "What? You didn't know?"

"Musta missed that part in the complimentary instruction manual they gave me for having my molecules redecorated." He snarks. "What do you mean I'm already a vampire?"

"I said people who don't know what they're talking about count Halfas as the original vampires. You lot have been around since the bloody dawn of time, it seems." John sounds exasperated.

"That's not what I - never have I ever wanted to take a chomp on anyone's pulse point, what the fuck?"

John gets that smug tone in his voice that Danny has a love-hate relationship with. "And exactly how many undead folks do you hang out with when you're feeling peckish?"

"...you can't be serious." Danny says instead of denying him. What can he even say to that? He's never met a Revenant or Ghoul.

"As the grave, I'm afraid."

When Danny doesn't outwardly respond for too many beats, John takes another chug. "Phantom?"

"John." He begins, pinching the bridge of his nose as more and more dots connect too cleanly for him. "You might be wrong."

"...What awful lore about your eldritch homeland is going to send me into my weekly crisis this time?" The detective groans out.

"Alright. So you know how part of my whole thing as the Prince makes it my job to stay aware of ectoplasmic diseases?"

John hums in acknowledgement, so Danny sucks in a deep breath. "Then you should know two things. One, that I've been to a few dimensions with vampires in them. And like you said, they're all different from each other. I didn't really pay much attention beyond helping the people survive these world-ending scenarios though.

Two, is that in each and every one of those realities, the vampirism was caused by a virus made by an Ancient - don't worry, they're gone. The disease itself is called False Halfa Syndrome. It was their attempt to weaponize Halfas back in Pariah's time."

"Oh shite." John says elegantly. "Bag o' shite!"

"Good luck on that crisis. Me too." Danny is hardly holding in hysterical laughter. "I can't believe Sam and Tucker were right about this. Holy shit."

"How in the world didn't you piece this together until now?!"

"I don't know! I just thought it was coincidence!"

"Bloody fucking hell, Phantom. Nevermind. You can play a vampire totally accurately because you are one. A ghost one." John growls. "Cause that just had to be a thing."

Danny carefully doesn't think about how Vlad might have legitimate claim to that vampiric aesthetic he's got going on. Instead, he's planning on stealing an aesthetic change for his own ruse.

"Nice. Should I know anything else while we're here?" He asks.

John gave a wry laugh, crackling over the phone's shitty old speakers. "About Gotham or your new undead existence?"

"Both." He says instantly. "Both is good."

"Gotham has vigilantes. The birds and bats are efficient, and they spook easy at unknowns. Batman's technically my coworker if we're gonna call the Justice League a job - we don't get paid for this. He and his family deal with the craziest lineup of human rogues I've ever had the displeasure. It's made him a healthy amount of paranoid. If you're doing anything nefarious, he'll find you. And then he'll call me."

Danny isn't exactly afraid of John. But Pariah wasn't afraid of Danny, either, so the halfa takes it seriously. Internally.

"Yeah yeah old man. You've got your eye on me and all that. Uh huh." He genuinely appreciates the warning, too, but messing with John is his bread and butter.

"Watch it, brat," John says with no real venom, unlike a moment ago. "Or I'll bring out the stakes."

"I take mine medium rare, thank you."

"Piss off."

"...About the vampirism?"

"Normal ghost bullshite applies. It's about the ecto, I think. You go absolutely nutters for the stuff in undead folk. Something about how ectoplasm interacts with the reanimated. Liminals are nutritious too, but I've been told it's the difference between cafeteria food and gourmet. One smells absolutely heavenly, the other is barely appetizing."

Oh Ancients is that why all his exes are Liminal? No, hold on, was part of the reason Vlad was so weird about him just ghost-vamp on ghost-vamp mutual hanger?

"What, I'm not the only Halfa in your life? John. I thought we had something special."

"Please don't make this weird. Do not flirt with me." John instantly scolds. "I know you're just being your little weird brand of playful, but I knew you when you were a kid shaped menace. C'mon."

Danny blinks. He didn't think he was flirting, but apparently he was. "Alright. Sorry, John."

There's a sudden crash on the other side of the phone. Followed by John's muffled cursing.

"Listen, I have to go. If you're serious about this I'll get you some good fakes. Text me with what you'd like your name to be." And then John hangs up. Danny smiles into the lingering silence.

------------

PhantomMenace: Dante Nightingale, pwetty please 0w0

God's Favorite Whore: That's the most main character name I've ever bloody seen.

God's Favorite Whore: You're from a dead family in Illinois, farm boy, meta. Had an accident at 14, with a near death experience for believability. You've also been missing since shortly after it. Anyone looking into you will think that's when you got "turned."

PhantomMenace: thats why your the cool uncle <3

God's Favorite Whore: This should count as another favor, don't you think?

PhantomMenace: Yup. I'll be nice

PhantomMenace: 💚 ~2/20 Favors until Soul Return~ 💚

Dp x DC Jack is single AU

I just want you to imagine a reveal where Jack takes it well and Maddie doesn’t, resulting in a divorce and Jack getting custody

Then the kids grow up. A couple years pass, Jazz visits on holidays, calls once a week to check in, Danny just went off to college

So what we have is Jack Fenton, divorced empty nester now with way to much time on his hands

So he starts going out to meet people

The problem? He ends up in a rogues bar in Gotham and is oblivious to the fact he’s meeting/flirting with supervillains

And Jack is happy as a clam! He’s meeting all these interesting people with PhDs! He has a PhD!

My lover used to get angry at me because I always stayed up until 3, 4 am ... sometimes all night. So that gives me an idea to draw this

Harry James Potter the beauty you are!

From Harry Potter Magic Awakened Game Illustration. ART NOT MINE!!

You know the drill.

Cultists want to summon the Ghost King, the League pull up to stop them, failed summoning successfully and got Ghost Prince Danny.

With a twist.

The head cultist tells Danny what they want, but it's so pitiful that Danny just sits them down, each and every one of the cultists and explains that maybe it isn't the best idea to give your soul to an otherworldly entity just for that.

Then it somehow turns into therapy because Jesus Christ these people have been living some pretty shit lives, then Danny decides to pull some favors with Frostbite and the Yetis to get some of the cultists family members medical treatment for their Mother/Father/Siblings that they're too poor to pay for.

Other times he just kinda tries to get a few others to get more confidence after being drawn in by a few bad people against their will and try and give them ways to get out of said situation.

The entire time the Justice League was just, there, watching all of this go down and questioning a lot of things. Simultaneously Batman is thinking of starting up a program to not make this a repeat, wherein people think they have no other options than to give up their literal soul to an otherworldly entity in hopes to turn their life around.

Dpxdc AU: Damian decides that it’s time to go collect his brother from his assignment. Danny is starting to sniff out some non-ghostly bullshit for once.

Damian knew his twin had been exiled from the age of seven, banished to travel and observe how scientists around the world engaged with Lazarus water. The only word that Damian received that his spare was still alive were the letters of lab reports and findings that were sent back to base. As the Heir, he’s pushed to be better lest he himself be exiled or simply executed. Danny becomes a fleeting thought and then once Damian arrived in Gotham, a none existent thought.

They weren’t raised to be friends or even friendly. The were not taught codependency or allotted time to bond. The could have been perfect strangers if not for their appearance and the stories of Danny’s shortcomings becoming Damian’s praise.

It’s only once Tim informs him of an intercepted letter, one sent and saved from years prior, that Damian recalls Danny enough to care. Tim prompts him to share more, especially given the coup recently committed by Deathstroke (Slade) and Talia gone into hiding with her zealots.

At family dinner that night Damian supplies: “I suppose I should be the one to bereave my twin of his assignment. His reports will certainly go unread.”

Chaos in the Batfam ensues- meanwhile across the country- Danny sneezes and finishes writing his yearly report: “No major discoveries aside from public record patents (attached), No assistance required. -Spare”. He doesn’t know why he bothers, he hasn’t received any contact from his mother or grandfather since he was 10ish and certainly hasnt thought about his twin. But, if there’s a chance (even an itty bitty one) that his reports are being read and are holding off his reassignment, he’d rather keep assassins out of Amity Park.

Little does he know that this letter is about to be intercepted by Pru, former assassin and friend of Tim Drake. He hadn’t expected his twin to suddenly arrive and tell him that his job was done. And certainly, seeing a plane filled with an uncomfortable looking ‘family’ that requested he join them and get to know Gotham and his birth father, was not on his bingo list.

Danny does his best to let them down gently- and they seem to be accepting that he’s acclimated to this weird little town and will leave him be- when Danny suddenly has to transform into Phantom in front of them to handle a rocket sent by Skulker.

They are less willing to accept his appeal to be left alone after that… Damian is trying to “bond” with him and all the others are trying to “help” in their own way.

Sam and Tucker howl with laughter at Danny’s suddenly very large family- all while secretly working with the Wayne’s to get Danny the fuck away from the Fentons before the scientists do something they can’t undo.

Aquaman was only patrolling the ocean, not expecting a baby mer swimming with the whales along the way.

It one of the few things he would like to do in his free time is to help the ocean sea with minor problems, a seal having his neck stuck with a plastic can holder, a a couple shark with a hook stuck to her fin/nose or tailfin, a couple of trapped rare fish in poacher traps.

He wasn't expecting a small group of whales, mainly a momma whale and two Baby whales to swim by singing their song while hunting a vast enormous group of krills.

Only to hear a tiny little baby mer singing along with them. It was a boy, with chubby lil arms, a beautiful trails of sparkling white and neon green color, fade gray and black tips mer tailwind. A fainted trail of electric shock probably from a mishap by jellyfish tracing from one of his chubby hand down to his body.

Hair white as snow, eyes greener then the grass on land, tanned skin and a odd sliver mechanism purple clock on a necklace that was ticking slowly despite being in deep underwater.

Arthur was going to get closer but the Momma whale Block his view using her vast body after she noticed him getting closer, the two Baby whales hiding behind her along with the baby mer.

Meanwhile Danny as clockwork apprentice until he grows into his state as the ruler of ghost realm and away from noisy observators has been on a mission to keep the timeline in check in other dimensions. Clockwork insisted this form would do the trick

Part 2 link here <-

Writing Prompt #14

"You foolish, stupid child," Vlad hisses, pinning Danny to the wall. Danny's eyes turn green as he wraps both his fists around the one Vlad has clenched in his collar, his feet dangling in the air. Vlad leans in, his own eyes burning red.

"When, exactly, did you plan on telling me your biological father was Bruce Wayne?" he says furiously.

Danny's hands drop in surprise. "W-What?" he gasps.

Vlad drops him unceremoniously and he lands on the floor in a heap. Vlad claws at the air in frustration.

"Don't lie to me, boy." Vlad says, omitting his often used possessive "my" in front of "boy".

"How do you know that?" Danny asks warily, propping himself up. He watches Vlad push a shaking hand through his hair. The man looks down at him before dropping in an ungainly squat beside him.

"Of all the sperm donors, Bruce Wayne, Daniel? Really?" The man asks, despairingly.

"I didn't exactly choose him, Vlad."

"No, I suppose you didn't."

"Seriously," Danny says, watching the man rock back on his heels as a growing pit forms in his stomach. "How did you know about him?"

Vlad's mouth twists bitterly. "Because he now knows about you."

"What do you—"

"Vladdy! Danno! What are the two of you doing on the floor?" Jack flops down beside them, a tray of freshly prepared fudge in his hands. "We having a heart-to-heart boys? Let me in on this!"

"Jack," Vlad says. "If you truly want to have a heart-to-heart with your son, I suggest you tell him the real reason I've come over today."

Jack's face falls.

"Vlad," Maddie says from behind him. "Thank you for coming. We're grateful for all you've done, but I think we can handle it from here."

"Madeline," Vlad says, rushing to his feet. "I must insist—"

"And I must insist you see yourself out," Maddie smiles tightly. "You know where the door is, don't you?"

"Mads," Jack says gently, looking between the two.

"I can show him out," Danny says, getting up as well.

"That's alright, Danny," Maddie says. "Why don't you go get your sister? We need to have a talk...as a family."

Danny glances at Vlad.

"Now, Danny," Maddie says. Danny heads for the stairs, pit growing ever larger.

--

The next time they meet it is Danny who has Vlad pinned, the gaudy chandelier above him shaking with the force of his rage.

"You should've told me," Danny growls.

"I thought your parents had you informed," Vlad says, utterly unbothered by the teen cracking what is thankfully not a load-bearing wall of his mansion. "Honestly Daniel, we could throw around allegations of deception on both sides, particularly mine as I assume you've known for quite some time now, if not the entire time, about your father hmm?"

Danny's eyes flick away in an obvious tell.

"Yes, I thought as much. But rather than whinging about being blindsided, I suggest we focus our energy on the solution."

Danny drops Vlad, barely biting back a snarl when the man lands gracefully on both feet.

"Which is?" Danny asks.

"First of all, your well-meaning but frankly moronic parents seem to believe that they can make a case for your custody without the assistance of my legal team. It is in both of our best interests to dissuade them of this."

"They don't like feeling indebted, Mom in particular."

"Well, to be crude for a moment Daniel, tough shit. Yes," Vlad says in response to Danny's widening eyes, "I said it. Bruce Wayne has the best of the best on his payroll and your parent's rinky-dink attorney from the local practice won't stand a chance against Friedman & Sons. Especially once he establishes paternity."

"He can do that?" Danny asks. "I mean I'm almost eighteen, can't I just refuse?"

"The keyword here, Daniel, is almost. As in, you are not. The judge can take your wishes into consideration, but I suspect Wayne will make a case for an unsafe living environment alongside his paternity to win his petition for full custody."

"Un-unsafe living environment?" Danny sputters. Vlad eyes the boy dryly before gesturing to all of him, currently clad in silver and black hazmat. Danny drops the transformation with a wince.

"In fact, I suspect that's the main reason the man filed in the first place," Vlad continues. "Lord knows he doesn't need anymore heirs to fight over his fortune once he passes—"

"Jesus, Vlad,"

"—so I believe he did some digging and found your home to be, well, wanting. On paper, Daniel, your parents sound eccentric at best, dangerous at worst. Pull the right strings, and hospital records just fall into laps. He probably thinks he's rescuing you." Vlad sneers. "If only he knew how quick you are to spit in the face of one offering you a comfortable and wealthy home."

"Fuck off," Danny says. "Is that what this is about? If you can't have me, no one can?"

Vlad rolls his eyes. "Come now, Daniel. Are you really intending to keep up this pretense?"

"What are you talking about?"

"We agreed a long time ago that no matter the nature of our quarrel, we would leave the Justice League out of it," Vlad says, taking a menacing step forward. "You think I, running in the circles I do, would have no knowledge of Bruce Wayne's alter-ego?" He takes another step, voice rising. "I have avoided drawing The Batman's attention for years, no matter how often our paths crossed. I stayed under his radar for decades, and now, BECAUSE OF YOU, I AM ABOUT TO BE RUINED."

With a creak and a groan, the chandelier drops, landing between them with a crash. Danny coughs from the dust as Vlad takes a heaving, calming breath.

"Then why get involved at all?" Danny asks, staring at the ground.

Vlad sighs, clapping his hands twice. Several ghosts dressed in service uniforms fly out the woodwork, gathering up bits of chandelier as others begin to mop.

"Because, little badger," Vlad says, walking away from the mess. "If we lose this, he'll have you in the palm of his hands. Which is infinitely worse."

Entering the kitchen, he pulls an open bottle of white out of the kitchen fridge and pours himself a glass, throwing a Fiji water to Danny who takes it for the peace offering it is.

"He won't."

"Won't what, Daniel? Please speak in full sentences."

"Won't have me," Danny says, letting a thin coat of frost spread over the bottle. He tips the freezing cold water into his mouth and wipes his face with his sleeve, mostly to see Vlad grimace.

"Why, because you'll run away if he wins? Until you turn eighteen? I won't have you fail to complete your education because of a cockamamie scheme, Daniel—"

"Because I have a solution, Vlad, one that doesn't involve the courts or running away."

"And what is that, exactly, Daniel?"

--

"You're going to leave my family alone."

"Danny," Mr. Wayne says, blinking in surprise at the boy on his doorstep and miles away from Illinois.

"I mean it," Danny says firmly. "You're going to drop your petition and whatever smear campaign you were planning on and leave the Fentons alone."

"Danny...why don't you come inside?"

Danny takes a step back from the manor's large doors. "You want a relationship with me? Brute force isn't the answer."

Bruce takes in the teenager, lanky but almost to his eye level. His eyes are clear and sharp, his demeanor forcibly calm.

"I debated whether going through the court was the right thing to do," Bruce says slowly, matching calm with calm. "But I wanted to be above board."

"Because my adoption wasn't?" Danny says, arms crossed. "Yeah, I'm aware. Kinda hard to adopt a kid that doesn't legally exist. And I know what you're going to say, the Fentons should've reported me to the system, but they didn't do it because I begged them not to. Because I didn't want my biological parents to find me."

"Danny..."

"You can swing your dick around and get your way, exactly the way I thought you would do things," Danny says, "Or you can have a relationship with me on my terms. A relationship where I don't despise you because you took me away from the people who've loved me no matter their faults."

"You're asking me to choose your happiness over your safety." Bruce says carefully.

"That's bullshit," Danny says. "I had a lab accident when I was fourteen and went directly against my parents' instructions. They trusted me, and I made a mistake."

"It's not a matter of trust. You were a child, Danny, and you almost died." Bruce says, not bothering to feign ignorance. Footsteps echo behind him.

"Bruce?" A voice calls. "Is that..?"

"Your son did die," Danny says. "He took a flight with your credit card to Ethiopia and got blown up. I bet you trusted him too."

Bruce reels back as a hand lands on his shoulder, the other on the door.

"Whoa, whoa, uh, Danny, right? I'm Tim, I'm—"

"I know who you are," Danny says, clenching his fists. Powering through the hurt he is causing. "I didn't come here to point out what a total hypocrite you are. I just want you to back off. And if you give me your number, we can text and I'll come to Gotham for Thanksgiving or the ski chalet in Vermont or your villa in where-the-fuck-ever and you can be Uncle Bruce that I maybe even tolerate being around once in a while. Just leave my family alone."

"Bruce, what is he talking about?" Tim asks. "Back off of what?"

"Your Dad is suing my parents for full custody," Danny says when it becomes clear Bruce isn't answering.

"What?" Tim hisses, turning to Bruce. "That isn't what we talked about!"

"Danny. I..."

"Here," Danny says, thrusting an index card forward that he's scrawled his phone number and email onto. On the other side is the past participle conjugation for 'venir'. "I won't answer until you drop the custody petition. Which I expect you to do by tomorrow morning."

"Done," Tim says, stepping past Bruce and taking the card. "Give me about noon to get it all squared away with the lawyers. Do you have a hotel? A way home? I'd be happy to reimburse your flight and accommodation."

"Overstepping already."

"Fair enough," Tim says coolly, raising his hands. "Our lawyers will reach out when it's settled."

"Great. Bye." Danny says, turning to leave. He waits until he hears the manor door close behind him before pulling out his cell phone.

Ring!

Ring!

"Hello?"

"It's done."

"What's done? Again, little badger, full sentences, I beg of you."