WIP From A DPxDC Fic Im Probably Never Going To Finish, I’ll Probably Post More Art Of It But I’m

a phone danny while i’m on the road

You, every night.

Little Snippets #10

"Oh hell naw!"

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

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

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

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

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

"New guy?" Nr.2 asked.

"New guy." Nr.1 confirmed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meanwhile...

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

Ghost of a Chance

Gotham was not a city known for its kindness. Rain slicked the alleyways like a second skin, and shadows crept where sunlight dared not linger. Alfred Pennyworth had seen a great many things in this city. Muggers, monsters, and masked madmen were just part of the nightly routine. What he hadn't expected, however, was to be saved by a ghost.

Or something very much like one.

It was supposed to be a quick errand—a quiet evening walk to clear his head. But halfway down Burnside, three desperate men with more bravado than brains cornered him. Alfred had been ready to disarm the first and disable the second, but he never got the chance. A blur of white and black swooped in, accompanied by the distant, bone-deep hum of unnatural power. The muggers were down in seconds—one frozen to the wall, another knocked out cold, and the third suspended midair by a glowing hand that flickered green.

The boy was there and gone just as fast. Alfred barely had time to register the tattered hoodie, the hollow cheeks, the white hair and green eyes that didn’t seem quite human.

"Wait—!" Alfred had called, but the boy was already gone, melting into the shadows like smoke.

The encounter would’ve ended there—just another strange chapter in Gotham’s nightbook—if it hadn’t kept happening.

Twice more, the mysterious young man appeared. Once to stop a purse snatcher near the theater. Another time to drag a lost child out of a crumbling building during a fire. Always fast, always silent. Always gone before Alfred could properly speak to him.

And always too thin.

It was the kind of thin that spoke of long nights without food. Hollow cheeks, knobby elbows, a belt cinched too tight around jeans that barely stayed up. It reminded Alfred of the early days—of Dick, of Jason, of Tim, of Damian. Of boys who had learned to survive instead of live.

Alfred Pennyworth had a rule: no one went hungry on his watch.

And so began his campaign.

At first, it was subtle. A wrapped sandwich left behind after one of the ghost-boy’s heroic appearances. A thermos of hot tea left conveniently near a rooftop perch. A backpack, clean and durable, filled with protein bars and fresh socks. Most of it vanished, though Alfred never saw it happen.

Then came the note, scrawled in messy, tired handwriting:

“Thanks. You didn’t have to. I’m not sticking around though. It’s safer for you if I don’t.”

The next day, Alfred left a response tucked in the same spot:

“You are not a danger, young man. I’ve seen far worse, and fed far worse. If you insist on continuing your streak of rooftop chivalry, I insist you do so on a full stomach.”

He added a slice of quiche. It was gone by morning.

Bruce raised an eyebrow the first time he caught Alfred baking two loaves of banana bread instead of one. Tim said nothing when the supply order mysteriously included a half dozen extra protein shakes and thermal gloves in medium size. Damian made a snide comment—something about stray ghosts haunting the pantry—but Alfred didn’t dignify it with a reply.

Then came the night it changed.

A patrol gone wrong. Batman caught in a collapsing parking garage. The comms went dead. Nightwing was too far. Red Hood was tracking Penguin. The only one nearby—untraceable, unregistered, and undeniably powerful—was the boy Alfred had been feeding for weeks.

He left the beacon on the rooftop.

“Help him. Please. –A.P.”

Within minutes, Bruce stumbled through the Batcave entrance, soot-smudged and breathing, but alive. Behind him, almost hidden in the shadows, was the boy. White hair. Green eyes. Shivering slightly, but still on his feet.

“I didn’t do it for favors,” the boy said. His voice was hoarse, too young for his haunted face. “I just... couldn’t let him die.”

“I know,” Alfred said gently. “Which is precisely why the offer of dinner still stands.”

“…I shouldn’t.” But his eyes drifted toward the warm lights of the manor beyond the cave, toward the smell of fresh bread and something sweet baking in the oven.

“No one escapes me forever, dear boy,” Alfred said with a small smile. “Not even slippery ghosts.”

The boy stared at him for a long moment. Then finally, like a candle burning out, he sagged.

“…Okay. Just for tonight.”

“Of course,” Alfred said, already turning toward the kitchen. “We’ll start with soup.”

Behind him, the boy whispered a name like an afterthought—like something long buried finally being said aloud.

“Danny. My name’s Danny.”

“Well then, Master Danny,” Alfred said, with the same fondness he reserved for all his wayward sons, “welcome home.”

Danny finds out that, due to his flexibility and weightlessness of being a half-ghost, he's actually pretty good at Ballet.

First it was a few classes because of a lost dare, but then those few turned into a usual thing for him.

In fact, he got so into it that even his rogues, when they realized it was almost time for his Ballet lessons, would pause the fight and make sure he went. The young half-ghost was, in their opinion, far too tense and stressed, and if they wanted to make sure he was in top form for fighting then he needed a hobby.

Regular Ballet lessons turned into competitions.

Competitions turned into him being scouted.

And while he never, ever expected this path for himself, at the age of twenty-four he became one of the best Danseurs in the country.

He's also a registered meta, but only because when he dances he gets so into it that some of his ghostly features leak over to his appearance.

Floating white hair, eyes shifting from blue to green in the lights, slightly pointed ears; costume designers adore him.

So it's no surprise that he has his fair share of stalkers.

This is where John Constantine comes in, because someone just tried to send a very nasty curse to Danny, and they need to find out who.

Song that inspired this idea here

Bruce Wayne would fear Kyouko Mogami.

Not bc she could down him, bc he saw the Ren Tsuruga doll and heard her say it was to scale, down to the bones.

This young woman went and learned everything about this man and then proceeded to make a doll of him. A hyper realistic, to scale, doll.

Tbh Bruce would probably have to hold Tim back from trying to ask her to learn that.

To make my point clear, Kyouko recognized Ren bc of his bones in the manga. Like he was acting as an american actor (a scary one) and bc she recognized him she had to be given the role of the american actors sister. She had to act so she didn’t accidentally out him.

This is my favorite fact about Kyouko ❤️

Ancient of Space

Based off of this prompt from @theglamorousferal

After Amity Park was transported into space, new rules and divisions were established. Thanks to Danny, the area slowly began to expand, incorporating nearby asteroids and lost pieces of debris that could be drawn in and added to the field. Due to the change in environment—and the exposure to external energy and ectoplasm—the residents of Amity Park began to change. As they became more and more liminal, their ears started to become pointed, and their eyes began to glow.

Not to mention, thanks to frequent interactions with ghosts, most (if not all) of Amity Park now speaks the language of the dead. Lifespans also dramatically increased—what used to be 80 to 90 years now stretches to 200 to 250. And when someone passes away, they automatically become a ghost.

Most of the adults have already turned into ghosts—though not all. Some didn’t become liminal enough, or didn’t live long enough for the transformation to take place. All the students from Casper High are now adults in their early hundreds. They know lifespans have increased because Danny asked Clockwork directly, concerned about the effects that much ectoplasm might have on the human body.

Danny has fully embraced his title as the Ghost King. He even technically made Amity Park part of the Infinite Realms. A large portal now allows travel back and forth, and ghosts frequently pass through to fulfill their obsessions or interact with the living members of their kingdom. Likewise, Amity Park residents often venture into the Realms for various reasons. It’s safe for them, thanks to an inner residential zone Danny set up—an area not meant for living, but stable and protected enough to travel through and interact with the Realms.

Back on Earth, Amity Park has become a legend. All evidence of its existence disappeared along with Danny and the town.

But that’s not the focus right now.

The Young Justice team—Wonder Girl, Impulse, Superboy, and Red Robin—was aboard a spaceship returning from a mission when they detected an unusual energy signature coming from a previously unexplored section of space. No one knew why it was uncharted; as far as they knew, the Lanterns had already mapped every accessible region.

As they approached, they expected to find maybe a destroyed planet, a dead star, or some other anomaly. What they didn’t expect was a massive floating landmass, torn straight from the ground and left suspended in space, surrounded by meteors linked to it via domes.

Suddenly, a young woman approached the ship. She had flowing white hair, Lazarus-green eyes, and pale skin. Most striking of all, she floated through the vacuum of space without a suit—breathing seemed optional.

She hovered in front of the ship's window and blew a cold breath on it, fogging the glass. Then she wrote a message asking if she could come aboard. After a brief discussion, the team decided that the best way to get answers about this strange place was to speak to one of its residents. They nodded in agreement.

Without warning, the girl density-shifted through the glass and gently floated to the ground in front of them. She greeted them in a language they couldn’t understand. Realizing this, she paused, thought for a moment, then switched to English.

“Hello,” she said. “My name is Elly. Welcome to Amity. So… what brings you here?”

Impulse, true to his nature, zipped around excitedly before stopping in front of her. “Hello, Elly! It’s great to meet you. I’m Impulse—this is Red Robin, that’s Wonder Girl, and over there is Superboy. We were flying back home and noticed this unexplored zone on our map. We got curious and came to check out the weird energy signal.”

Elly chuckled at Impulse’s boundless energy. She then offered to escort them to the main area of Amity. At first, the team hesitated, but Red Robin accepted the offer, recognizing it as an opportunity to gather valuable information.

They landed in the central district of Amity and exited the ship with caution. The first thing they noticed was the people: not too different from humans—at least, not most of them. But their glowing eyes and pointed ears gave away their altered nature.

Elly offered to give them a tour and answer any questions they had. The group accepted, unaware that the moment they entered Amity’s vicinity, all tracking and monitoring systems were disabled.

To the Justice League, it looked like all four of them had simply vanished.

(I would've made this longer but I lost motivation so I decided to finish it)

fanfic writers are so fucking awesome man. they write novel length fics that are sometimes even better than some published bestselling books written by professional writers. like fanfic writers are professional writers to me and they gift us their masterpieces for free. they give us something we can look forward to after a long day. something from which we can seek comfort when life is hard. something that can be our own little getaway. in a world of capitalism, despite everything, they give us all of these for free. like holy fuck. shout out to every fanfic writer. I wish all fanfic writers a very ‘I love you with all my heart and soul. I thank you from the bottom of my heart’

I don’t know if anyone’s made this joke yet

Fic prompt #7

Dpxdc

Danny Fenton is the biological father of Timothy Drake.

He had a one night stand with Janet the night before her wedding.

She didn’t tell nobody about it, nor she tried to confirm whatever Tim was Jake son or not, but after some years even without proofs she could see the resemblance.

Not wanting his husband to find out she convinced him to stay out of Gotham for work.

13 years old Tim Drake-Wayne find the diary of his mother and truth about his birth and decide to try searching for his biological father