Art's Blog

The smirk on Danny’s face is more of a grimace and the glance he sends the camera is anxious. He isn’t even acting. He’s insanely nervous this wasn’t going to work. All of this to avoid telling his boyfriend that he’s half dead (and the general public, but he’s more worried about his personal relationship).

Being a Wayne, Damian is naturally suspicious and catches on quickly to things a little out of place. Danny didn’t have much of a choice. The cult was gonna preform the summoning regardless, it was all about how he spun it to prevent Damian from dumping him before he could snap his fingers. So here he was, tied to a chair in some random warehouse and- oh, they’ve started chanting. Fantastic.

He puts on an excellent show if he does say so himself with scared glances around himself and worried questions.

“What are you- what are you doing? That’s not gonna do anything. I didn’t take Latin but even I know this is-“

Then he promptly chokes as he feels the pull of the summoning. It only seems to spur them on as they see the effect it has on him.

“You- Something’s wrong. This feels weird,” he tells them, stumbling over words in the panic, trying to figure out what was happening.

They get louder.

“Stop. Stop it.”

His voice is weaker now, full of apprehension and just out of it.

It honestly feels surreal. The cult trying to pull him even though he’s already here. It’s like the kind of vertigo he feels going through time.

Danny’s eyes flash green and he shakes his head like he’s trying to physically shake it off. He can tell they are at the tail end of their chant when a wisp of cold air escapes his lips with a gasp.

By the time they’ve finished the summoning he’s completely changed his persona into the Royal King he’s been training to be.

He blinks open toxic green eyes with a straight face. Calm and regal in the face of a new situation he knows he has control over. Gone was the usual bubbly smile everyone sees and the panicked confusion of right now.

He wasn’t Danny anymore, he was Phantom. The slip was easy- practiced.

He doesn’t even glance at the ropes before using his intangibility to stand from the chair like they weren’t even there.

Tall and confident posture replaces the easy going, relaxed stance of Danny Fenton. He maybe not be physically wearing a crown, but it’s easy to see the position he holds without it.

Those captivating orbs skim over the stunned cultists, pausing momentarily at the camera where he tilts his head minutely in intrigue before moving on, finally stopping at the man who was clearly the leader with an emblem of green fire on his breast.

His voice echoes when he speaks.

“Why have you summoned me?”

Out comes a trembling response of world domination and other such nonsense.

“What do you have that I would want?” He questions cutting off the ramblings.

“…You would have the world, Your Majesty. All you have to do is take it. We brought you here so that you have the opportunity to do so.”

He walks the edge of the circle lazily, gazing around the decrepit building with leisure. He’s in no rush, in fact the slower the better.

“Explain to me why you think I would want your world.”

The people freeze, even more than they already were.

“Your Majesty?”

Danny waits, not acknowledging the question and finally stops in front of one of the people in robes. Under the hood he can see the sheer terror on their face as he gazes into their eyes. At the smell of urine he casually looks back at the leader expectantly.

“Why- why wouldn’t you want this world? All the souls you could have. The Justice you could deliver…”

He turns to continue walking around the circle, purposefully putting his back to the leader to show how little of a threat he thinks of them.

“Despite knowing my title, you forget who I am.”

The ground frosts over where he steps now, the shadows deepening and any kind of lights flicker.

“I am the ruler of the Infinite Realms. Every soul will eventually come to me. Time is no enemy to me. The deeds done here will receive justice for when those souls arrive at their destination. I am the mid-way. The in-between. The Balance. Why would I want your world when I already have so much more?”

He ends that question in front of the leader once more, looking down on him even though the man was several inches taller than him. The man actually cowers.

“You dare bring me to this plane when I have no purpose here? You think you have any power over the lives of your fellow humans? How pathetic.”

There is a beat and then shattering glass as Gotham’s vigilantes finally descend upon the cult, easily taking them down and tying them together.

Danny watches them back as they all assess the new threat keeping the poor civilian hostage. He tilts his head in contemplation.

“Balance keepers,” he acknowledges. “Interesting.”

They don’t even have to glance at each other for Nightwing to step forward, drawing his attention.

“You said you are the balance, didn’t you?”

Toxic eyes wander over them all slowly. Red Robin to the right, then Nightwing, Batman, and Robin at the left. For some reason the sword swinging vigilante looks especially murderous.

If he wasn’t in the middle of this he would be totally geeking out. Maybe when he’s Fenton again.

“Yes. I am many things. Balance is one.”

“Then you understand why you have to go back to your… realm and leave the kid here where he belongs.”

Danny frowns. ‘Kid’? He’s sixteen! Almost seventeen, he’s not a kid.

“Must I?” He challenges purely out of spite.

“Vacate him immediately, you-!”

“Robin!” Batman growls.

Danny knew the newest Robin could be aggressive (all the Robins had to be to survive), but he didn’t know just how much until right now.

Fine, it was time to wrap things up anyway.

Not wanting to provoke the vigilante anymore Danny doesn’t verbally respond, instead he walks calming back to the chair, letting the rope fall through to sit down like it’s a throne.

He can’t help but send them a small smirk that says he knows a secret they don’t know.

“Until next time, Balance Keepers.”

“Wait-“

Danny closes his eyes and slumps into the chair like cutting the strings off a marionette. He has enough experience with overshadowing to know what it looks like.

His eyes are blue again when he blinks them open.

He stares at the group in front of him in confusion, they all looked horrified for whatever reason, and then spots the pile of cultists groaning in the corner. He blanches.

“Are you kidding me? I missed the fight? How did I miss it?” He cries in outrage.

They don’t answer immediately and takes the awkward silence to look around at the broken windows and his surrounds.

“Are you okay? Can you stand?”

He thinks it might be Nightwing who asks but isn’t quite sure. He raises a brow.

“Of course I can’t stand, I’m tied to a-“

He looks down.

“Oh… uh, I don’t- I mean.” He clears his throat. “Sorry. Thanks for getting me out I guess.”

Clumsily, he stands and awkwardly pats himself down.

“Yep. I’m good. Totally okay. Can I get out of the creepy circle now, please?”

“Try,” Red Robin suggests. Danny notices how careful he is to not say any form of yes and promptly shrugs it off.

So Danny walks out of the sigil, stepping eagerly over the last line and looking back at the scene. Like a true teenager he pulls his phone out of his pocket that they didn’t confiscate and took a picture.

“Wild.”

“How do you feel?”

He turns back to Nightwing and finds them all looking at him. He tucks his phone away self-consciously.

“Uh, fine? I mean, I can take a punch,” he rubs his cheek where they first kidnapped him.

The vigilante’s lips thin and Danny thinks that wasn’t what he was asking about.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Well,” he rubs the back of his neck, “I was tied to the sacrifice chair and they started chanting- I really don’t think it was Latin if you ask me- and then, um, I blinked and you guys were here.”

Danny pauses for dramatic effect and opens his mouth in an O in false realization. He groans and covers his face with his hands.

“Oh my- are you telling me I passed out? I totally blacked out, didn’t I? Mother f- this is so embarrassing. I’m gonna die.”

“No you won’t,” Nightwing tries to reassure.

“Yes I will. I’m gonna go find a deep, dark hole to climb in and just die. What am I supposed to tell my boyfriend? Oh no, I can never show my face again.”

“Okay, he’s fine,” Red Robin brushes off as Danny sinks to the floor with head in his hands. “I’m going to go talk with the police.”

“The police?” Danny cries. “Grace Holland’s mom is on the force. The whole school will know by Tuesday! This is the worst.”

***

While Danny was giving a statement to the police Robin and Batman sat crouched upon the nearest roof.

“I’ll call Constantine,” the father states.

Damian clenches his fist.

“I should have walked him home. He wouldn’t be-“

He wouldn’t be possessed by the King of the Dead if Damian had just walked his boyfriend home. This was all his fault.

His father doesn’t even deny it.

“We’ll monitor him.”

“He doesn’t remember anything. He doesn’t know.”

“Which is why we will keep an eye on him.”

That was their duty now. Damian’s responsibility since he couldn’t keep Danny safe to begin with. They’ll watch him, keep him close, and wait for any signs of the King surfacing. The being said he would see them again. He wasn’t gone, just bidding his time. Waiting. Watching.

“Please— Please man, what the hell do you want—” he remembers the man begging. Did Danny beg? Or was he dead before he knew what was really happening? 

He remembers stomping on the man’s face, the feel of his boot crunching into the man’s nose, pushing it to the side in an unnatural angle. 

The man had let out a cry like a fucking baby. No, not like a baby. Danny’s cries had been loud, yes, but they had always drawn sympathy out of him. They were always followed by soft shushes and rhythmic back rubs. 

No— he cried like a little bitch. 

John doesn’t really remember what he did after that, but the next time his conscious mind checked in, the man was much bloodier. 

“Do you even know why I’m doing this?” John had asked, standing over the man with a hammer in his hands. 

The man — tears still falling down his ugly fucking face — shook his head weakly. 

John snarled and brought the hammer down. Again and again, with Danny’s name spilling from his mouth. 

When the hammer slipped out of his hands — flying behind him mid swing — he paused and took in the mangled mess below him. 

He let out a shaky breath, wiping his hands off on his shirt, and pulling out his cigarette. 

He told Danny he would try to quit when he got home. 

--- 

Of course John didn’t go to the funeral. 

His kid was already fucking dead, what good did it do to look at the corpse. 

He couldn’t— He couldn’t look at Danny like that— Dead—

There was no point. 

Of course John didn’t go back home. Nothing of value was there— Danny wasn’t there— He had everything he needed already packed up from the exorcism he had been on when— Danny died. Oh god his son is dead— When he had left for a week. 

John... Can’t really make an excuse for cutting off everyone he knew and going on the run. 

Logically, he knew it was stupid. A therapist would say some shit about ‘support systems’ and ‘leaning on others during times of grief’. Give him a break; his son died, he can do whatever the fuck he wants to feel better. 

And if alcohol, drugs, and sex made him feel better, then so be it. 

It helped him forget what he knew. Where he knew Danny was. Where he knew his son was. 

So. Who needs an excuse. His son was in hell. Let him do whatever the fuck he wants. 

--- 

John sat alone at the counter of some dingy bar in a town he couldn’t bother to name. The lights were low; the only real bright thing here being the bright neon signs that sat above the shelf of alcohol. 

Snow fell softly outside, wrapping everything in a thin blanket of white. Christmas would be here soon, which is mainly the reason he was in here. He and Danny didn’t really celebrate Christmas. A day specifically made to buy things? Yeah, it had corporate scheme all over it. Not to mention, neither he nor Danny cared enough about the Roman Saturnalia nor Norse Yule to justify celebration. The lights always gave John a migraine and the smell of pine everywhere made Danny queasy. 

Safe to say, John was more than irritated these past few weeks. 

“Another dry whiskey,” he grumbled with a wave of his hand, pushing his empty glass away from him. 

The bartender walked over with another glass, taking the one he had pushed aside. 

“Tough day?” He asked, eyeing the eyebags and sour expression on John’s face. 

John took a long sip of his drink, closing his eyes at the bitter taste. “Shut the fuck up.” 

The bartender grunted, walking away and muttering something that sounded a lot like ‘asshole’ under his breath. 

John kept his eyes closed, enjoying the burn in his throat and lack of painfully sweet memories. It was nice — peaceful — to listen to the chatter around the bar. There was someone on a date, or maybe the man had just bought here a drink. There was a group of old friends in a booth, catching up and talking about their days in high school. Across the bar from them, there was a group of young college kids, celebrating one of their friends finally asking out a hot girl. One of the kids got up, saying something about a song. 

John took another sip of his whiskey. He wasn’t sure what number he was on yet; he wasn’t really trying to keep track. He probably should have been cut off by now, but he was paying, and the bartender didn’t seem to mind as long as the money kept coming. John was grateful for the dubious ethics. 

RING

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, it’s me, what’s up baby?’

‘I’m sorry, listen, I’m gonna be late tonight. So don’t stay up and wait for me, okay?’

The rising sound of a guitar strummed from the jukebox, followed by the college kids cheering from their table. A series of ‘Woo!’ ‘Thanks man!’ overlapped with the annoying start to The Call by the Backstreet Boys. 

John’s eye twitched. Danny fucking hated this song. 

“Turn the fuckin’ song of’.” He gritted through his teeth with a raised voice from his seat at the counter. 

The college kids quieted down, presumably staring at him. 

“And who the hell are you?” The one at the jukebox snarked, scoffing as he walked back to his booth. 

John stood up, following him as the song grated on his ears, “I said.” He grabbed the kid’s shoulder and flipped him around. “Turn the fuckin’ song off.” 

A fist swung at his face and John woke up face down on his motel bed. 

He groaned, the sound muddled by the stiff pillow. He was on top of the covers, his sweaty trenchcoat acting as a blanket. He felt the weight of his shoes on his feet and the pounding headache of a hangover. 

He moved to get up but quickly decided against it. Everything hurt — his knuckles felt raw, and one of his eyes felt swollen. He could feel the bruises on his body sting at the mere thought of getting up. I’m defiantly banned from that bar, he thought as he settled on the stiff bed with a grunt. 

He’d leave town tomorrow — no use staying if he couldn’t drink his thoughts away — but for now, he was going back to sleep. 

--- 

It’s been two years since his son died and he dropped off the grid. 

He’s gotten used to the grief — he’s accepted calling it grief. He’s in no way stable; he’ll admit that. That’s why he’s off the grid. He doesn’t trust himself doing serious work. The rest of Justice League Dark can manage without him, especially in the state he’s in. 

Zatanna had found him once, about a year into his breakdown. She had told him to come back — to get help. He almost agreed — the thought of moving on was terrifying, but he knew that Danny would hate to see what he’d become — then she had told him that they needed help. He spat in her face and left. She didn’t come after him. 

He lit a cigarette where he sat at the edge of the bed, not looking over at the vague shape of Danny that sat next to him. If he looked, it would vanish, but right now he could imagine that the boy was sitting next to him. They were on a vacation, or maybe a mission. Danny had been practicing his magic; he was a fast learner. Maybe John was taking him to his first exorcism. Danny would be sixteen this year, far older than Constantine when he started. 

“Enjoying not being at school?” He mumbled to the air. 

There was no response. Right, no one was here. 

He looked over, the fuzzy image of a boy vanishing. 

He took a drag of his cigarette. Right. 

It was a few more moments of silence before John tensed a pulling sensation stinging in his chest. He dropped his cigarette, stomping it out on the now burnt carpet, and rushed into the bathroom. 

He curled over the toilet and felt the shitty diner food rush up his throat and out his mouth. It burned on its way out, the stomach acid searing through the soft meat of his throat. His chest fucking hurt, and his throat fucking hurt, and his mouth tasted fucking nasty. He threw up again, much less exiting his body this time, but blurry tears left his eyes. 

He slumped against the floor once he was done puking out his dinner. He sat there for a minute until the pain in his chest subsided. 

After what was probably an hour on the floor, he stood up, walking to the tiny sink in the cramped bathroom. 

He turned the water on, cupping it in his hands and bringing it to his mouth. He repeated the action a few times until the acidic taste was mostly out of his mouth. He downed some water and stood back up from where he was hunched over the sink. 

He gripped the edge of it — staring in the mirror as the sound of the running water faded into white noise. This wasn’t the first time this happened. A sudden phantom feeling — a mockery of the calm reassuring tug he used to feel. This was the first time it hurt so much, and the feeling — while not as intense — wasn’t going away. Psychology was a bitch, he decided, pushing the feeling in his chest down as much as he could. 

It pulled again, and with it John’s fist connected with the motel mirror, causing a large crack along the surface. He drew his hand back — the splintering glass in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the pain in his chest. The motel is going to charge me for that, he distantly thought as he moved back into the room to pack his briefcase. 

[Edit: I totally forgot the tag list lmao]

Main storyline

Charlie messed up... again (or how it all started) // comic

Reading lessons // comic (coming soon)

Fragile // comic (coming soon)

Vox is fucking blind // comic

Too young to be an overlord? // comic

Good ol' Rosie // comic

Who is this diva // fake tumblr dash (with arts)

Additional stuff and fanart

Someone was ready // sketch

Unwanted attention, strange deals and positive changes // fanfic (by @starweaversguidetothehazbinhotel)

Dealing with consequences // fanfic (by @the-hazbin-therapist)

some portraits // sketches (by @ayakooooosstuff)

Sooooo.

...Charlie may have fucked up.

Actually no. She fucked up. Bad.

Now don't get her wrong: Vaggi love her girlfriend. Adore her. She would burn both Heaven and Hell for her.

But even she can see that... yeah, Charlie fucked up on that one.

It started innocent enough; her girlfriend just wanted to use a spell that could turn the both of them into humans for a week. To understand them better, or so she said. So they could help them redeem themselves easier by knowing how living as a human feels like.

...Well. Vaggi always knew her girlfriend was creative. But she thought there wouldn't be any downside to try right?

Oh how wrong they both were.

She should have known something would go wrong when Charlie poured way too much magic for a simple spell after some failed attempts. But she just brushed it off and they both went to sleep.

...Only to be woken up by loud, extremely confused shouts of "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"

-Well, that was the main feeling they could get from this-

So they went down and...

Oh.

Welp. This was going to be fun to fix.

~0o0~

The day at started... fine enough.

As fine as it can get since Angel have left the hotel at least.

The bartender went (not without wobbling, but he chalked that up to the hangover. He hadn't been sober since... Well. Since the spider left) to get himself a drink -yeah it's six am, so what?- and gulped the first one in one go. Then he went to pour himself another one and-

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!"

Uh. Kinda sounded like Cherri Bomb... Wait.

He frowned. Put the glass down, and looked towarfs the sound of the voice to see...

Holy fucking shit is that a human?

Here? In Hell? How the fuck did THAT happened- wait.

"...Cherri?" he tried, which got the woman to turned around.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck it's actually Cherri Bomb.

And she's human.

What.

"Husk? she asked, frowning. Well, guess I'm not the only one stuck in THAT particular shitshow."

Wait what was she talking ab-

Oh goddamnit.

He looked down and- yep. No fur, no paws, just good ol' human hands. He put one of them behind him- no feathers. No tail.

...Well that explain the hard time walking around. He've been so used to walk with additional weight on his back and a tail for balance that now that those were... gone? (hopefully temporarly) it was like walking on a string.

"Well shit. he said. Didn't even noticed- you know what happened?"

"No clue! I just woke up like that!"

...Uh. Well that was weird.

"HUUUUUUSK"

The bartender turned and got a small missile hitting him on the stomache.

"Ow fuck! What the hell you- he blinked. ...Niffty?"

The small cyclop that he used to know was now a small red-haired woman in her usual attire (thanks Lucifer for THAT) and hairs covering one of her eyes.

"Hey- hey Niff. he tried to pat her back. You doing okay there?"

"Nooooo! she whined. Now I'm too big to clean under the furnitures!"

...Oh. Yeah of course. Always had weird priorities.

"Hey uh... It's going to be okay. I'm sure we're gonna be back to normal soon."

Well, as normal as it can get in this crazy hotel.

"Someone should probably go and get Charlie. Cherri said. Also where's Baxter?"

"I tried to get him, but he locked himself into his room! Niffty puffed. Giggling and... taking notes I think?"

"Riiiiight."

The guy was probably already wracking his brain to understand what caused this.

"Guys! I heard screaming! Is everything okaaaay?"

Well, speak of the devil (or his daughter) and he shall appear.

Charlie was running down the stairs and stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing them, followed closely by Vaggi.

"Hey Charlie! Have any idea what the FUCK is going on?"

Well Cherri was straight to the point... wait.

The princess and the fallen angel looked... really uncomfortable? Husker frowned.

"You did this shit?"

"W-Well! Definitely NOT on purpose! she tried with a nervous grin. I was just... trying to turn myself and Vaggi into humans to... you know, understand sinners better! But I kept trying, and trying, and trying, and I put all my magic here but it didn't work but-"

"Oh, au contraire my dear, I would say it worked way more than you could hope for!"

At the new voice, everyone looked up at the balcony to see...

"Alastor?!"

~0o0~

The moment he woke up he felt something was wrong.

His vision was blurrier than it was supposed to be- in Hell he only ever had needed a monocle because only one of his eye got to struggle.

But right now... Why, he hadn't such a poor vision since he was alive!

He got up carefully- no restrains, no sounds out of the ordinary, he was still in his bayou... but why on Earth (or rather in Hell) did he got that distinct feeling that something was deeply wrong with him?

...And then he looked down.

And despite all the blurriness, he could clearly see that his arm was... not pure black fading to a light brown- but just brown.

Like before

Alright, he needed to get his monocle, posthaste.

What he grabbed instead though, was his old pair of glasses. They were like back then too!

He carefully put them on, got up and looked at himself.

His human face glared back.

"...Well that certainly interesting." he mused, noticing that he -obviously- didn't had the radio effect on it like usual.

He grabbed his staff, and by curiosity called on his powers... nothing. Or almost-

His Shadow was still very much sentient. It waved at him, although weaker.

"Now what could possibly have happened hm...? he waved at his Shadow. Be a dear and check if I am the only one suffering from this... little inconvenience will you?"

The Shadow quickly disappeared, and came back and he used that time to get dressed up. Shaking its head, it grinned brightly.

Alright, so he wasn't alone in this predicament. There was that at least.

"Well then. Time to see if our dear princess or her father are responsible for this."

He was about to leave but then paused.

"Oh my, I almost forgot!"

He grinned brightly.

"Much better. Well then, on with the show!"

~0o0~

Holy fucking shit.

Now, don't get Cherri wrong. She's... kind of already taken...? In a relationship...? Long distance? Anyway, she was already into Pentious!

But damn, never in her afterlife she would have expected THE Radio Demon -the Overlord, Strongest Sinner in Hell yada yada...- to look so fucking good?

Hello?

The guy was just straight up hot as fuck that was unfair!

She could tell that everyone (well okay maybe not those exact thoughts...) were thinking the same thing.

Damn, Hell did him dirty!

Also his voice was kinda sexy without the radio filter- MOVING ON.

She looked around and... Yep, everyone was looking shocked.

Well at least there was one good thing coming out of this shithole- she'll have to try stealing a pic or two, she needed to remember this!

(Makes her wonder how Pentious looked like when he was alive... Damn it she miss him)

~0o0~

"Alastor?"

"Why yes, how lovely of you to recognize me in a heartbeat my dear." he grinned.

He had to fight to keep it on. Now he knew that they were mostly just surprised to see his human form, but he couldn't help tensing up.

They were all white people.

Old instincts kicked in, and he had to fight to look as nonchalent as usual.

He still owned Husker's and Niffty's souls, they wouldn't dare make a comment about his skin color surely. Charlie was too naive and optimistic and probably didn't know about this. Cherri Bomb... Might be a problem, depending on when she died.

He'll have to keep a close eye on her, just in case.

The Radio Demon -and he was, he still was the one that made all of Hell cower in fear when he pass by on the street!- made his way down with the same nonchalent attitude they knew him for.

"You sound different." said Vaggi.

He rolled his eyes.

"Why yes, you didn't believe I was speaking in radio static back when I was alive did you now?"

The fallen angel scoffed.

"Fair enough."

"Ah but enough of that. If I understood correctly, our dear princess is the reason of our current predicament isn't that correct?"

Charlie grimaced.

"Yeaaaah... I'm sorry! I just wanted to turned myself and Vaggi into humans, not all of you!"

"Well, can ya undo it?" the bartender gruffed.

"I can try...?"

And, to her credit, she did! Tried, and tried, and tried until she didn't had any magic left, and was being held up by her girlfriend.

"Maybe your dad can?" Cherri Bomb proposed.

"Oh yeah!"

So the princess called up her father, which of course immediatly teleported in the hall once he heard the "Dad I need you" in his dear daughter voice.

~0o0~

"Char-Char! What is it apple pie I'm here to-!"

Lucifer blinked. And looked again, and blinked.

"Wooooow uh... Okay, that's new. he frowned. What happened?"

"I... maaay have messed up a spell. she grinned awkwardly. I wanted to turned myself and Vaggi into humans to, you know, understand them better! So I can help them redeem themselves! But... it kind of backfired...? And now everyone's human again, but I can't fix it, and I tried, and I tried, and I-"

"Wow wow wow there! Charlie slow down, I got it. It's okay kiddo."

He gently patted her head.

"Eh, you should have seen it when I messed up my spells. Took my three brothers to fix it up that one time I turned the moon into cheese! at her face he chuckled. It's a long story."

"As fascinating as that is, we would appreciate if you could turn us back to what we were Your Majesty."

Oh great. The bellhop is- wait a minute.

There wasn't the static. Which... come to think of it, made sense.

(Why did his voice had to sound so good though? No fair!)

He turned around with a frown.

"Well I'll have you know that I didn't asked for your opinion Bam-"

He froze.

God fucking damn it why does he look so handsome?

Also uh. He actually had brown skin. Interesting... Shit his hairs look really fluffy. He kinda want to pet it- but he know better than to try, the psycho would most definitely bite his hand off!

Wait shit he stopped in his sentence didn't he? Considering the raised eyebrow and the grin -of course he was smiling even when he wasn't a deer- Alastor was waiting for the rest of it.

"A-Anyway! Yeah didn't asked for your opinion bellhop! he scoffed. But to answer your question, no I can't."

"What, why?"

"Ducky, spells have magic signatures. he ruffled her hairs (take THAT Alastor!). Meaning that only the caster of it can undo it. Think of it like a lock and key. Only one key for one lock."

"But I already tried, and it didn't work! What can I do?"

"Hold on babe. Do you remember what your spell thing was? It was supposed to turned into humans for one week. So..."

"So if we wait one week, you think everything will be back to normal?"

"Beats you dropping dead of exhaustion by trying over and over to fix it." Maggie shrugged.

A silence fell, before Alastor hummed.

"And... do you believe that little spell of yours only affects us, or...?"

Lucifer frowned at the implications, and Charlie paled.

"You think-?"

"One way to find out." the bartender said -that was the bartender right? He had the same gruffy voice- and turned on the TV.

...Yup.

The reporters on the news were humans. And freaking about it too.

This just in: An emergency meeting have been called upon by Carmilla Carmine to all the Overlords about the present situation. More on the meeting on tonight's broadcast-

"Well then! It seems I must bit you all goodbye." the Radio Demon was already leaving.

"You gonna share the info with the class Bambi?" he frowned.

"Why of course! It wouldn't do to have all of Hell panicking over something that by all means should be temporary, correct?"

"Good point... And tell them I'm sorry!" his precious daughter yelled just before Alastor went out the door.

Dead silence followed.

"...So who's up for pancakes?"

~0o0~

How dearly does he miss his shadow teleportation.

Now, he can see that everyone is panicking. Running around like headless chickens as a matter of fact- paying no mind to him at all, which as of right now was quite the relief.

Just look in control. None of these idiots would be stupid enough to pick a fight with you once they recognize you.

Just in case, he passed by Rosie's place first. She of course, knew how he looked like, so she wasn't surprised to see him. And despite him managing to break their deal, they were still cordial around each other.

She gladly accepted to go to the meeting together, and so they went. Discussing about how things were in Cannibal Town; apparently everyone was losing its mind over the access to human meat again (hey demonic meat was different okay? It had a more... sour and spicy flavor to it.) and killing left, right and center. When it wasn't killing, it was amputations -consenting ones of course!- and pretty much everyone was in a frenzy.

"My, it certainly looks like you have your work cut for you my dear!" he chuckled.

"Oh, don't remind me! I was never that busy since the whole Kowari tribe! Hm?"

"OUT OF MY WAY! Important people walking here!"

Alastor let out an annoyed hiss at the contact, before noticing who exactly had just pushed him so rudely.

"Oh Alastor sweetie, are you alright?"

"That was Vox wasn't it?"

His eyes turned pink.

"...That was Vox."

"Oh, you're alright!"

Well at least Rosie had her priorities straight.

So, Vox was no longer a flat screen. How sad.

What would happen if he beheaded him in this form he wondered...?

"Alastor? We're going to be late."

He grinned.

"Right behind you my dear."

~0o0~

They sat down just in time for the start of the meeting. Carmilla took a deep breath, and started to speak.

"Fellow Overlords, we are all today because of the recent turn of events. All of Hell is in a panic. Souls are running wild, and it is our duty to keep the peace as much as possible."

"Yeah yeah, we all know why we're here. You don't have to spell it out."

Hm, if the disinterested expression and the phone were any indications, then this was most likely Velvette. Alastor took note.

He recognized Vox of course -the fool looks like he wanted to be anywhere but here. How ironic considering how rushed he was.

And next to him was Valentino. He would recognize those ugly glasses everywhere.

Next up... Hm. That man in the back... oh.

Well, his mustache reminded him of Zestial quite a bit. But oddly enough he imagined him to be quite older.

It looked like Vox was the oldest in the room, how... odd.

And then-

"Ah! You look even older as a woman!"

Of course, Velvette couldn't stop provoking.

"And you must have messed up, daycare is two floors below! she spat. Someone younger than thirty shouldn't be an Overlord!"

What was that?

"Excuse me?" he frowned, glaring at Carmilla (he could feel Rosie do the same, although she was smiling.)

Funnily enough, Carmilla looked quite confused at first. So he tapped his staff just in case. And-

"...Alastor?"

"At last, my dear! he made a fake bow. Why, I would think you never recognized me at this rate."

...Uh. Why did everyone went silent?

"Holy fucking shit, Al?!"

At the voice, he sighed.

"I believe we already established that fact yes, Vincent." he turned to face the former TV.

~0o0~

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

Now don't get Vox wrong, he always found Alastor attractive. Besides, the guy had an aura- which often made people run for the hills when they see him.

But THIS?

Holy sweet baby Jesus this was another level!

He could see from the corner of his eyes Velvette snapping a few pictures -very fair honestly. He'll have to ask her to save him some.

Even VAL was speechless, and that was saying something! He hadn't been surprised when he saw Angel's human form!

Despite being dark skin he's pulling that off better than anyone else he ever saw!

...But also what was that about being below thirty? Fuck he feel like a creep now.

Oh wait. He could see Velvette whispering to him. Maybe she could convince him to pose for a few pictures.

~0o0~

Pictures?

Alastor blinked, a bit confused about Velvette's... proposition.

"Oh come on! It'll be fun. See, I'm gonna post the picture, and asking people to guess which Overlord this is. she grinned. It's going to be hilarious! No way in hell people will guess you. You look too hot for that!"

...Hm.

"Well, why not. he grinned. We all are powerless as of now, so might get some entertainment out of this."

"Now you're talking!"

He generously let her fix his clothes (her words. She just unbuttoned some of his jacket's buttons, and took away his staff -which would have been a dead giveaway.) and smiled for the camera.

She took two of those, and he had fun with the second one he'll admit. He couldn't let it be too easy now!

After that, he turned back to Carmilla.

"Now now my dear. I have the informations about our... current predicament."

"You do?"

"Why yes. You see, our dear princess tried a spell to turn herself and her little girlfriend into humans, to "see what it's like". Unfortunately, it failed... or rather, it backfired."

"So the little bimbo princesa is responsible for this?!"

Alastor shot Valentino a dirty grin.

"It was an honest mistake. Contrary to some people here, she didn't try to take over Heaven."

That made Vox shrink to look as small as possible, and Valentino tisked.

Zestial quickly ended the argument before it could broke out.

"So... Is she able to turn us back?"

"Unfortunately, no. She tried for a good while, without avail. But, her spell was made to be temporary. In a week of time, it should have dissipated."

"I see. Now then, we must pass the message to the rest of Hell."

"On it."

Velvette was already taping on her phone.

"I will also created some broadcasts about it." the Radio Demon waved his hand.

"...We'll make sure to pass the news." Vox looked like he bit a lemon.

"Very well. This meeting is over!"

Before they left, Velvette went to him.

"Time for the big reveal! Ready to see Hell losing its fucking shit?"

"Why that sound quite amusing. Here, allow me to help them believe it."

He grinned, and summoned his Shadow. That earned a raised eyebrow from the other Overlord, but she took the picture, and posted it.

"Now, we wait." she giggled.

It took less than a minute. Curiously, Alastor looked over her shoulder, and couldn't help himself- he laughed.

Okay, it was quite entertaining to see demons losing their minds everywhere (although SOME messages made him grimace) about how he actually looked like.

No one commented on his skin color. Nobody was being a racist douchebag...

Which... actually made sense. Velvette was even more dark skin than he was, and those were the ones that followed her. So he supposed it was to be expected. Still, it made him feel a bit better.

"Why, that is quite entertaining indeed! he chuckled. However I'm afraid I cannot stay long. I have broadcasts to share! We will see each other again next week my dear."

"Sure thing! Sounds fun!"

ACTIVELY IN PROGRESS

Corrupted Respawning by CosmicDustPoltergeist

Another "Danny is Tim's clone" masterpiece. Danny is more of a chill guy than a weapon, so the Batfamily decides to adopt him. 14/?

Baby, I Basked in the Violence by Garden_Haunter

Utterly traumatized post-capture/vivisection baby Danny who finds refuge with the Bats. 17/?

those who serve. by aryelee

Reread this one a dozen times. Alfred adopts homeless Danny instead of Bruce and teaches him to be the family butler. Absolutely stunning. 8/9

sacrificial bat by hollowgast1

Shameless self promo! Nowhere near the level as these others, but hopefully you still like it. Danny is summoned by a cult and forced to overshadow Tim. Angst and identity shenanigans. 6/7

Transference by PoseidonChick13

Nightwing rescues traumatized, tortured Danny. Demon twins AU. So much delicious angst in this. 3/?

I thought you were gone (and you still found me) by TStarOPines

Evil Vlad keeps Danny captive. Dan and Ellie are reverted to cores, which Danny is "incubating." The Bats rescue him. Trigger warning for assumed noncon (there is none). 23/?

Danyal al Ghul Wayne was supposed to be the only one who died. Left behind in that forest so that he didn’t have to keep competing with his twin, his brother, his other half, Damian. Damian, who was so much better at all of this, always was. Who was the favorite of Mother and Grandfather. So Danyal had to die. It’s not like they really looked that similar anyway. 

Daniel Fenton was supposed to be the lucky one. Picked up by two mid-western parents with their daughter and adopted into the family when no trace of Danyal could be found. The kind parents who took so much time to help him adjust. Who marched into the schools time and time again because teachers and students treated Danny differently for his non-American accent or protesting discipline because Danny had a violent outburst. 

But Danny learned. The League had trained them to be flexible. Even though there were times when that flexibility became brittle and Danny wanted to crack, to run back where everything was familiar and Mother would kiss his forehead and Damian would paint with him and Grandfather would put weapons in their little child hands- No. Danny could bear it. Danny could change. 

Danny made friends! Danny switched one accent for another and tried not to shed tears when Farsi and Mandarin started to rust over, slipping from his mind. Danny learned how to tolerate the whispers and the bullies, for as kind as they are, Mom and Dad are also not Normal Americans. And from the ages of 7 to 14, Danny was glad for it because at least they were scientists instead of a cult. 

Until Danny died inside a portal that swirled with Lazarus waters so pure they were the original source called ectoplasm. Chased for being an assassin, bullied for not passing correctly enough, and now in hiding for being a ghost.

At least Danny has Sam and Tucker. Has Jazz at his back and Damian in the past. Or so he thought. 

Danny should have known better when the field trip form landed on his desk. Things were complicated enough as it is. But apparently this is his existence in a nutshell because his half-life has been doomed since birth. 

“Alright class, this is a wonderful opportunity that has been provided to us. Gotham University is sponsoring classes of juniors in small towns across the coast to tour their campus and apply for scholarships,” Ms. Ling says as she passes out the fieldtrip forms. “Take these home and talk to your parents. We will be leaving on a Friday during school hours and come back on a Sunday after spending Saturday touring the campus. I urge you to think about your careers so you can ask our tour guide questions about programs offered at the university.” 

Mom and Dad happily sign the field trip form, telling Danny about their days in university and how much fun it is to pursue your passions. Danny nods along. University sounds nice and all, though as far as Danny is concerned, there’s only one real goal in his future. Find Damian again. 

~~~

“This place feels weird.” Danny suppresses a shiver as he looks around the gothic buildings of Gotham University’s campus.

“Well, yeah, look at all the smog in the air. The pollution here is off the charts, not to mention the gas attacks the villains here use,” Sam says as she gestures to the sky. “No wonder the university is desperate for students to attend. It’s a wonder that people are leaving the city in droves.” 

“No I mean-” Danny glances around to make sure no one is near. “-It’s ghost weird.” 

Tucker looks up from his PDA. “The portal is all the way back in Amity. Why would a ghost have followed you here?”

Danny shakes his head. “Not a ghost I’m familiar with. It’s like the whole place is breathing down my neck. It just keeps getting stronger too. Like I kinda felt it when the bus drove in yesterday, but then it was definitely more there this morning when we woke up.”

“So, it’s your ghost sense acting up,” Tucker hums as he thinks.

“We didn’t bring a lot of gear, just the discrete stuff.” Sam counts off her fingers as she mentally lists the supplies they have. 

“I don’t know if it’s an attack or not,” Danny admits, “but we’ll just have to stay vigilant.” 

They don’t even make it through to lunch. 

~~~

The class is sitting at tables in a court yard, eating the sack lunches that were provided by the university, when an announcement cuts through the air. “Attention all campus staff, students, and visitors. This is an alert for unusual activity in the area. Please remain calm and allow the designated officials to conduct their search. If you see something, report it immediately.”

Ms. Ling immediately starts to consult with their tour guide and the chaperones.

“Uh, well that’s not ominous at all,” Danny says around a mouthful of sandwich. 

“Yeah, and it’s about to get a lot worse. Look.” Sam points behind Danny and Tucker.

They turn, following her line of sight, and all but groan in complaint when they see the stark white uniforms. The group of Guys In White are making their way across the campus slowly, sweeping ghost hunting sensors around and making note of the readings. 

“Alright, students. We’ve decided that the best course of action is to return to the dorm rooms we are staying in and continue the tour once this has passed. Please pack up and finish your lunches in your rooms.” 

There are grumbles of complaint, but the class moves to follow Ms. Ling’s instructions. Sam, Danny, and Tucker keep a careful eye over their shoulders all the way back to the dorms. Even once they close the door, their nerves don’t drop. 

While students were expected to be sleeping four to a room, no one wanted to stay with them (okay, well, Valerie would have but she wasn’t able to get her shifts covered and had to stay in Amity) and so they have a room to themselves, which is good. 

“Okay, let’s run the inventory. What do we have?” Danny asks, immediately going to his suitcase. 

Same lays out her supplies on the spare bed. “I have the lipstick case ecto-taser, the boomerang, and I brought the first aid kit with ectoplasm vials and the suture lines.” 

“Yeah, not much on me either,” Tucker says. “I’ve got the sensor and another miniblaster. I just turned on the ectoplasm sensor and the readings are even higher than in amity park.”

“All I have is the thermos.” Danny adds it to the bed. “So it’s not an active ghost hunt yet, but something has definitely got the GIW all riled up.” 

“What are the chances that they’re hunting you again?” Sam asks.

“I mean, it’s not likely, right?” Tucker nervously adjusts his glasses. “It would be hard to pick out Danny amongst all this interference.”

“And I’m not even in ghost form. Human-me is normally enough of a dampener,” Danny adds. Dammit, this can’t be happening. This is going to throw off the whole plan.”

Sam is about to say something else when there is a knock at the door.

The three of them exchange glances. It could be Ms. Ling or a chaperone doing a role call, but with their luck? It could also be Guys. 

The knock comes again, if a bit more forceful. “In the name of the government, open up! This is a security sweep and we have a warrant for search.” 

Fuck, it is the guys. 

“Danny, go!” Tucker hisses, scrambling over to the door. 

“We’ll distract them.” Sam shoves the supplies into her backpack and pockets. 

Danny closes himself in the closet. He should run, but maybe the guys will leave once they see the room is empty and he can’t just leave Sam and Tucker behind. 

There’s a creak of the opening door. “Hello, officer.” Tucker drawls. “How can I be of assistance?”

“The readings have gone up!” A voice says.

“Move aside, citizen, we need to search your room.” A second voice says. 

Shit. This is not off to a good start. 

Heavy footsteps enter the room and Danny waits with baited breath. 

A beeping draws closer to the closet. “It’s coming from this direction,” Agent 1 says.

Okay. Nothing to it then. Time for maneuver 34.

Danny turns intangible, flopping his arms around as he bursts from the closet. “No! Help! I’ve been possessed!” 

“A ghost, aim for annihilation!” Agent 2 raises a blaster, lining up a shot.

Danny can immediately see the training in the form. Fuck, these are not like the Amity Park GIW are they? 

He jerks out of the way at the last minute, swerving to grab onto Sam and Tucker as he puts a ghostly echo into his voice. “If yooou want tooo see these children liiiive then yooou will cease fiiiire at ooooonce!” And then he flies out the window and into the streets of Gotham.

~~~

Danny sets Sam and Tucker down in the alley a few blocks away from campus. “Sorry about that, you okay?” 

Tucker leans against the side of the building, a bit green in the gills. “Fine,” he squeaks.

“Yeah, all good.” Sam is already rummaging in her bag. “Here, Danny, drink this.” 

What? Oh. 

Sam shoves a vial of ectoplasm into his hands. He hadn’t even realized yet that he was wavering on his feet. Damn, using his powers while in his human form still takes so much energy out of him. 

Danny downs the vial and ignores the voice of Danyal at the back of his head whispering about Lazarus waters. 

“Okay, what now?” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Now we wait for the GIW to clear off of the campus and then we can head back,” Sam says.

“And if they follow us?” Tucker asks.

“They won’t, they’ve had their moment.” 

“Normally, I’d agree.” Danny shakes his head. “But those Guys were more intense than Amity Guys. I played the Kid-Possessed-By-A-Ghost card and they tried to kill me. Not capture me.” 

“Alright, then what do you suggest we do?” Sam slings the strap of her bag back over her shoulder. 

Danny gives them a mischievous smile, eyes flashing with green. “I have an idea.”

~~~

Sam, Tucker, and Danny huddle at the end of the alley, their clothes and faces smudged with dirt. The Gotham Guys In White take significantly less time to hunt them down and soon, they are edging around the mouth of the alley. 

“Help!” Sam shouts.

“Save us from the ghost!” Tucker adds. 

Carefully and with quick precision, Danny flicks open the thermos and then closes it, only allowing one ghost to slip out. He prays that it’s a good one. 

Shulker takes form before them and Danny lets out a sigh of relief. Okay, this’ll be a good show and then Danny will just vacuum Shulker right back up and congratulate the GIW and everyone will be happy and then he can sneak out tonight just like he planned. 

“Do you know how long I was in there?” Shulker puts his hands on his hips and glares down at the three of them. “What the fucking hell do you three think-” 

Shulker shrieks in pain, his chest bubbling green before his form explodes in sticky hot goo all over the alley, splattering onto Sam, Tucker, and Danny. 

Danny lets out a strangled gasp. 

The shot came so fast! He didn’t even see the agent step into the alley! That’s not how that was supposed to go! They… They…

They killed one of his ghosts.

“Shh, Danny, it’s okay.” Tucker’s hands come over Danny’s head, pulling his face down to the crook of Tucker’s neck.

“We’re safe, now, it’s alright. You’re alright,” Sam says loudly. She leans on Danny’s back, stroking her hand through his hair as she whispers, “Your eyes, Danny. Control your eyes.”

What?

His eyes?

Why is she worried about that when Shulker was just-

The green light glows against Tucker’s neck and sweater collar, pulsing in time to the rage flooding through Danny’s veins. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep shuddering breaths. He forces his aura down, down, down. Wrap it up small and tuck it away. Dull down the shine of the ghost core in his chest. 

Heavy boots scuff against the pavement of the alley and then Sam and Tucker are crying out in protest as a hand grips Danny’s hair and lifts him up. 

Danny yelps, dropping the thermos so he can grab the wrist of the agent in white. He looks up, wide blue eyes meeting brown ones that assess him over the top of sunglasses. Ectoplasm drips off of his shoulders. 

“Scan him.” The agent says.

Another Guy comes up next to the one holding Danny, device in hand. “He’s putting off an ectoplasm signature, as are his two companions.” 

“We’re covered in goop,” Tucker pipes up. “With that thing splattered all over us, your scans aren’t going to be accurate.” 

“And our friend was possessed, there must still be some stuff in his system.” Sam adds, then her voice turns sweeter. “Thank you so much for saving us, you’re our heroes.” 

The agent grunts and then puts Danny down, the barest corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile. “Very well. Decontaminate these citizens and then return them to the university. Reassess the affected areas for residual ectoplasm.”

Danny doesn’t say a word, just keeps pretending to be a scared and exhausted kid. If he were to open his mouth right now, he’s pretty sure that Danyal would be the one that jumps out.

After being cleaned up and returned to their dorm, after Ms. Ling thanks the agents profusely for rescuing her students (yes, she will call if there is anything wrong, thank you so, so much), after their peers look on and cajole names of Fenton the Ghost Freak, the three are finally left alone in their room. 

Danny slowly sits down on the bed, thermos clutched in his hands and tremors racking his body. “Shulker wasn’t a thing,” he hisses. 

Tucker’s face falls. “I know. Danny, I know. I’m so sorry. I was just… The GIW agent was right there and…” 

And, and, and they’re just supposed to be teenagers caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. They aren’t people who know anything about ghosts. Danny isn’t supposed to be the Ghost King and Shulker isn’t supposed to be eviscerated and-

“It’s not your fault. It’s not any of our faults.” Sam wraps an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “Like you said, Danny… the GIW here are different. We’ll just have to be careful and watch our backs.” 

Danny should have known better when the field trip form landed on his desk.

~~~

Sam, Tucker, and Danny are allowed a few hours to rest, Danny sandwiched in between his friends on the bed, before Ms. Ling is knocking on the door. 

Danny’s not sure who lets her in, but then she’s sitting next to the bed and gently putting her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Danny. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

He looks away and shrugs a bit. 

“The university is opening the planetarium for a show before dinner. You always write so nicely about the stars in your essays, I thought you might want to see it.” 

Danny thinks about it for a moment. It means he’ll have to move. He’ll have to go back out in public. But he’s going to need food soon. If he wants to sneak out tonight… they need to think that he’s getting over the attack. 

“Yeah, okay.” Danny sits up and rubs his eyes.

Ms. Ling smiles. “Perfect, let’s get going.” 

So, Danny sits in the planetarium and watches the show. Watches the planets move and the stars sparkle, tension easing just a tad from his shoulders. Sam and Tucker sit on either side of him, holding his hand for the entire show. 

Dinner tastes like ash in his mouth, but he eats. He needs the strength and energy that food provides. If Dannyal is to find Damian tonight, then he needs to properly prepare.

~~~

Danny lays in bed, listening to the sounds of his friends falling asleep. Sam snores lightly in the opposite bed and Tucker’s face is still illuminated by the screen of his PDA from the spot he chose on the floor for his sleeping bag. For as often as they hold each other and share space, they still like to sleep on their own. 

It works in Danny’s favor because now he doesn’t have to worry about disturbing them when he gets up from the bed. 

That is, if Tucker would put down the screen and go to bed!

Finally, the room is plunged into darkness and Tucker’s breath evens out. Danny even waits five more, ten more, thirty more minutes just to be completely sure. 

Then he is slipping from the bed with assassin’s grace, feet silent on the floor and the bed not even making a creak as he stands. He bends, grasping onto the handle of the backpack he stowed under the bed. It’s not stuff that he needs, exactly, not that he needs the equipment he used in his youth, but he has stuff he wants to show Damian. To show the life that he made away from the League. 

And apparently he’s been gone from the League for too long, hasn’t practiced any of his skills in 7 years and the zippers of the backpack scrape against the wooden frame of the bed. 

Danny freezes.

Sam’s sleep heavy breath is cut off in a moment and she’s turning over in bed. “Danny? That you?”

Now Tucker’s snoring stops as he lets out a confused grunt. 

Danny bolts for the window just as Sam turns the light on. 

They can’t stop him, not with his ghost powers. He’ll be out of the room and disappearing into the night in an instant. Except-

“Daniel James Fenton!”

Hearing Sam shout his adopted name has Danyal Ra’s al Ghul Wayne going completely still.

Tucker sits up, pushing his glasses back onto his face. “Oh, nuh-uh, you were totally not about to sneak out with out us, were you?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Sam shakes her head. “And what, exactly, were you thinking of doing?” 

“Uh, go see if there’s some way to bring back Shulker?” Danny lies.

Immediately, both of his friends’ expressions soften. “Oh, Danny…” Sam mutters and at the same time, Tucker says, “He’s gone, buddy.”

“I just… I want to make sure.” 

“I feel you, man,” Tucker sighs. “But there’s nothing we can do.” 

Sam nods. “It’s better for you to be resting right now.” 

Danny lets his shoulders slump, lets defeat cross his features. “Yeah. Alright.” He sets the bag back down. “I’m just…” He gestures to the attached bathroom door. “I’ll be back in a second.”

He crosses the room and unlocks the door to the bathroom, closing it behind him. It’s a bathroom that is connected between the two dorm rooms, so this is fairly risky on Danny’s part, but it’s almost 1am so no one else should be coming in the bathroom at this time. 

In a flash of light, Danny changes into his ghost form and several things happen at once. 

Pain lashes into Danny’s ghostly body, his form seeming to bubble and swell. Now that he’s transformed, he can see all of them. He can see all of them.

All the shades that have been cluttering around Danny all day. Attracted to the magnetic pull of his ghost core. 

Now that he is here in the full glory of Phantom, the shades rush at him. They grasp and maw and yowl and claw at his form, bleeding themselves into his energy. And Danny can’t help but gasp at the backlash of the emotions.

Rage and hope and sorrow and joy and regret and fear, fear, fear, fear, fear.

They push into Danny until they are spilling right back out. It’s like a fuse catching fire, racing all the way down the line, the energy that explodes off of him. 

One large amalgamation of a ghost that’s made of smaller ones launches itself off of Danny and flies away, burning a hole in the ceiling. 

Danny stares after it, chest heaving even though his ghost form doesn’t need oxygen. 

Sam and Tucker yank the door open, staring at him. They were probably going to lecture him on trying to sneak away from them again, but now their attention is also fixed on the hole melted into the ceiling. 

The other door is open too and Danny can hear a classmate say, “Whoa, Phantom? What are you doing here? What was that?” 

Danny pulls himself together enough to flash a peace sign. “Hey there, don’t worry about it. Gotham is a weird place, am I right? Anyways, gotta go.” He takes off through the ceiling, tailing the mass of ghosts that is tearing off screeching into the night. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, balls, and more shit. 

The fucking hell was that?

Danny isn’t supposed to be doing any ghost fights here! And the Ghost Investigation Ward that is actually, unfortunately competent is here! He has to get to that cluster of ghosts before the Guys do!

Damnit he doesn’t have the thermos. 

But Tucker and Sam will find him soon to back him up. He just needs to keep the ghosts occupied and away from the GIW until he gets the thermos. Oh, and he has to do it quickly enough that he still has time to trek across the city so he can find Damian. This is fine. This is totally fine and under control. 

Danny splits himself into three copies and they fly at the ghost cluster from separate angles, pinging off ecto-blasts. 

Quickly scanning the area, he spots the field that stretches between the dorm buildings and the academic buildings of the campus. Perfect. 

Using a volley of shots and by cajoling the mass of ghosts from different angles, Danny is able to lead it down to the ground, chasing it around the field and never letting it get too much further into campus. 

The thing keeps waving its many arms to grab at Danny and he does his best to keep its attention split. From what he can tell– and from what he felt –the collection of shades want to go take revenge on people that they blame for their lives not amounting to anything. And Danny can’t have that happening. 

It doesn’t take long for the collection of ghosts to turn from its goal and start focusing their efforts onto Danny. Unfortunately, that is also the point where it starts learning. 

A hand snakes out to grab the ankle of a copy, bashing it into the ground until it poofs and Danny winces in pain, too focused on dodging the wild ecto-blasts the thing is starting to put out. 

Trying to mitigate the damage, he trades ecto-energy blasts for ice ones, freezing entire limbs of the thing. It scratches and the wobbly form trembles, changing direction to run from Danny again instead of attacking him. 

Danny creates another copy and sends it racing back to the dorms. 

Thankfully, Sam and Tucker are running across the lawn in all of their pajama-ed glory. 

“Danny!” Tucker shouts, the thermos held high over his head. 

“Thank you!” The copy of Danny takes it and zips back to the fight. 

Creating two large walls of ice, Danny corners the mass and sucks it into the thermos. It leaves the world the same way it spawned, with an ear splitting screech. 

Danny winces and rubs his ears as his feet settle back on the ground. This was not how the night was supposed to start. 

Sam and Tucker run up behind him, Tucker even slaps him on the back. “Way to go!”

“Do not congratulate him!” Sam splutters. “This is a disaster of his own making! If he hadn’t tried to sneak out by going ghost, then this wouldn’t have happened.” 

Danny tilts his head back and groans loudly. “Sheesh.”

Tucker frowns. “No, actually, she has a point. Man, what were you thinking?”

“I, um… I wanted to find my brother…” Danny finally admits. 

His friends stare at him blankly before they cry out in surprise. “What?!” 

“You have a brother?”

“Since when?”

“Well, he’s my twin, so, since always?”

“Why have we never seen him?”

“Does he look just like you? Identical or fraternal?”

“Fraternal. And he lives with our bio father. I was adopted. Clearly.” 

That response only leads into another loud bout of questions and Danny has to pinch the bridge of his nose as he wavers on his feet. This day has really taken a lot out of him. 

“Okay, okay, hold on.” Sam goes into her bag to pull out another vial of ectoplasm. “Here, once you get some energy back, then you can explain to us and we’ll go find him together.”

But the punches keep on rolling and before Danny can respond or receive the vial, he’s dodging a blaster shot. 

“Dammit! It’s the Guys again!” Danny kicks off the ground, turning so he can look backwards while flying with his back parallel to the ground. 

Sam and Tucker break into a mad dash to keep up with him. 

“They are just not letting up at all today, are they?” Tucker gasps. 

“What is with these Guys?” Sam takes the thermos from Danny, stowing it in her bag. 

“I told you,” Danny says as he lines up his warning shots. “This GIW team actually has their shit together when compared to the ones we see in Amity.” He holds his right wrist with his left hand while his right hand is positioned as a finger gun, beaming pot-shots at the feet of the Guys chasing them. If he keeps it up quickly enough, then he should be able to keep them from being able to land anything. 

In an ideal world, he’d grab Sam and Tucker’s hands and they’d fly off to regroup like they did at lunch time, but he doesn’t have the energy to make non-ghosts invisible right now. 

Plunging into the streets of Gotham, they race off of campus.

They take turns down streets at a desperate pace, but the group of GIW stay right on their tail, pace for pace and turn for turn. Main roads, boulevards, alleys, avenues, and side streets, it doesn’t matter. This is their home turf while Sam, Danny, and Tucker are scrambling to play keep-away. 

“Danny,” Tucker wheezes and says around gasps, “I need- My inhaler-” 

Shit. Danny’s hands lock around Tucker’s shoulders as he stumbles, going to his knees on the pavement.

It’s the stumble that saves Tucker’s life. 

The blast of burning energy grazes over the top of Danny’s forearm and Tucker’s shoulder, sizzling their skin and scorching a hole through their clothes. Sam slides to a stop and turns, reaching out to help even as she keeps her gaze locked on the approaching agents. 

Whipping around, Danny bellows with the pain and throws up a shield right before a second blast can nail Sam between the eyes. 

Fuck it. He’s killed before. 

Danny stands in front of his kneeling friends, two of the people who mean more than the world to him. He blocks them from the agents as his shield comes down and his hands come up, double finger-guns. 

Danyal has played with the idea before Danny dismissed it for being too violent. Now it’s the perfect method. Ice pellets propelled by ectoplasm blasts. 

This is for Tucker. 

This is for Sam.

And this is for Shulker.

The three bodies drop to the street. It’s not his best work and Mother would say that he wasted bullets, but given that it’s been roughly 9 years, Danny is pretty proud of himself for shaking off the rust. 

Sam lets out a strangled gasp of shock. Tucker goes still in the middle of pulling out his inhaler.

“Danny-”

“What did you do?”

Danny drops down next to Tucker, encouraging him to use the inhaler. “Relax. They’re not chasing us anymore.” 

Sam repeats herself with more emphasis. “What did you do?”

“It’s not the first time I’ve killed.” 

“You’ve done what before?!”

Yeah, alright, that was maybe not the best thing to say to his vegan friend. 

Danny puffs out a breath, sitting cross-legged in mid air next to Tucker. “Alright. We’re getting into this. So the short version is that I grew up in a cult. My brother and I were being groomed to take over one day. He was better at it than me so I ran away. My birth name is Danyal Ra’s al Ghul Wayne. My brother’s name is Damian Thomas al Ghul Wayne.”

Tucker’s eyes go wide. “Wayne… You mean…” 

Sam rapidly shakes her head. “I’ve met Damian at a gala before, you don’t look or sound similar.”

“First of all, rude. Assimilation is a thing, you know. Second of all, remember that I said fraternal twins? I take after Father and Damian takes after Mother. Third of all, do we want to be having this conversation out in the open on the street?” Danny gestures to their surroundings. 

Tucker gets to his feet, if a bit shaky. “Thn, uh, what are we gonna do about the bodies?”

“What bodies?” Danny asks with mock innocence. 

“The bodies right there, you-” Sam stops her gesturing as she looks at the empty street. “What. They were just there.”

“Already took care of it.” Danny unfolds his legs and floats in pace between them. “They’re phased six feet under.” 

Tucker slowly raises his hand as they start walking. “I, for one, would like to hear about the cult.”

“Noted. But we need to get to a safe place first and considering that the dorms are now compromised, let’s go see my brother.”

“Doesn’t that also mean seeing your father?” Sam crosses her arms. “What is he going to think about his son being a killer?” 

“Probably the same thing he thinks about my brother.”

“And your parents?! They’re going to be so disappointed in you.” 

Danny shrugs. “Mom and Dad are fully convinced that ghosts are inherently malicious and evil, and yet they built a portal to the Ghost Zone. The portal, might I add, that turned me into a half ghost, and now they try to hunt me down too. As much as I love them, they're completely supervillains at this point. The only reason I have any morals are because you two, Jazz is just real good at faking it."

They manage one more block before Danyal’s old instincts have him yanking Sam and Tucker into the safety of an alley, blaster shots missing Danny by a hair. 

This time, Danny aims to wound, but when the blaster fire doesn’t stop, he puts the ice pellets between their eyes. This time, Sam and Tucker watch in silence. 

“They’re not going to give up, are they?” Tucker asks with dawning realization. 

“Probably not.” Danny scans the street. There’s still so far to go until they reach Wayne Manor. 

He moves to step out of the alley so he can phase the bodies into the ground, but a blur of color has him stopping. 

Damn, maybe he’s more rusty than he thought. He completely forgot about the bats and the birds. 

Robin stands in front of them, katana raised. “Halt. Not one step further.” 

Danny slowly raises his hands, not that a sword would do much to him, but Sam and Tucker are going to be very vulnerable to it. “Hey there.” His eyes flick back down to the blade, catching on the calligraphy etched into the metal. “Nice sword, assassin quality.” (Fuck, shit, and balls. It really has been too long. He can’t properly remember the coded phrase for greeting an undercover member). 

There’s something that flickers across Robin’s expression that has his posture dropping, the sword going slack in his hands. “أخ؟”

Aw crap, if he thought that his Farsi and Mandarin were swiss cheese, then his Arabic is a carcass. “You wanna run that by me again?” 

Robin’s face hardens again and he holds up the sword. Not in a threatening gesture, just to display the blade. “You recognized this.”

“It’s League of Assassin quality, yeah.” Danny scrunches up his nose in thought, eyebrows drawing together with a crease. “Uh, honor and death or something. I think.”

There’s that flicker of recognition again and Robin takes a cautious step closer. 

A black shadow thumps down on the street behind Robin. Night cut into angles and muscle, the white lenses of Batman’s mask narrow as he watches Robin approach Danny. “Robin,” Batman barks out in warning or reprimand, hard to tell. 

“Hush, Father, one moment,” Robin raises a hand and presses two fingers to the creases between Danny’s eyebrows. 

A pit of anxiety twists in Danny’s gut, his feet hit the street as gravity reclaims him. Whether it be from surprise or to give Robin better reach because he’s shorter than Danny. Darker skinned too, with a thicker accent. 

“Danyal? Is it really you?”

Despite being dead, the breath gets punched out of Danny’s chest. It can’t be. There’s no way. “Damian…?”

With his free hand, Robin reaches up and takes off his domino mask so hastily that the skin of his forehead and around his eyes goes red. 

Green eyes. Forest green. Emerald green. The green of home and nights clutching at each other, two bodies with one soul in one bed, braced against the horrors that came in the daytime. 

Danny returns to his human form in a flash of light, hands moving to hover around Damian’s face, not daring to touch in case the illusion were to break. 

The sword and mask fall from his hands as Damian clutches onto Danny’s sleeves. He speaks rapidly in broken Arabic, Farsi, and Mandarin, the half remembered codes bleeding together. 

“Damian, Damian, Damian,” Danny chants his name like a prayer, clutching onto his brother’s gray uniform. 

They laugh and hold onto each other, so many questions and not enough answers. 

Batman stares in shock behind Robin. 

Sam and Tucker gape behind Danny. 

“How?” Damian asks, “How is this possible? How are you here? Danyal, how?”

“Well, it’s Danny now,” he says with a chuckle. “And it’s a really long story. But I’ve known you were in Gotham for about four years now. Ever since the papers announced that you moved in with Father.” Danny laughs again. “I may or may not have then gone on a mad internist spiral until I figured out the address for the manor. We were on our way to you when-” Danny’s smile sputters out. “The Ghost Investigation Ward has a personal vendetta against my existence and while I can stomach a few blows, I take personal offense against my friends being on the receiving end of that vendetta.” Is it just Danny’s ears, or is he sounding more like Damian now?

Danny smiles again as he looks over his brother. His twin. His other half. “And you’re Robin! You left the league too. I can’t wait to hear everything.” 

Batman steps forward, pushing his cowl up to the top of his head so he can look at Danny and Damian with his own eyes. With eyes the same blue as Danny’s. “I am also looking forward to hearing everything. Let’s get you three out of here. We can provide medical care too.” His assessing eyes land on Tucker’s shoulder, flicker back to Danny’s arm. “The batmobile is on its way, and then we will head to the manor.” 

Damian and Danny nod, smiling as they hold each other closer. Two bodies with one soul, reunited at last. Danny is so glad that that field trip form landed on his desk.

Well, have you seen that one of Batman's most iconic moments is when he says "Boo" to some Grim Reapers who were complaining that he's escaped them several times?

Then it hit me like a flash: Grim Reapers are to Danny what demons are to Constantine.

Danny is both alive and dead.

So, of course, this has to be a pain in the ass for the Grim Reapers and Grim Reapers-adjacent (The Fates). For Danny, living and dying is like turning a light switch on and off, and the Grim Reapers are like, the people in the house who see him do it but can't do anything about it.

Danny has a mountain of paperwork the size of Everest in his name, but they can't give it to Danny because, as the Ghost King, he's their fucking superior. So they have to swallow their anger and try to keep track of when he's alive and when he's dead.

But then, through divine intervention Clockwork, they discover that Danny's biological father is John Constantine.

Yes, that John Constantine they also have beef with. And did you know he has no idea he has a biological son?

Just imagine: John is at a JL meeting when, out of nowhere, a portal appears and a grim reaper emerges from it, asking for John Constantine. The League relaxes a bit because, unfortunately, it wouldn't be the first time a supernatural being has done this, but they're on guard and judging John with their eyes because the entity in question is a grim reaper.

Constantine, on the other hand, is confused as shit because he doesn't remember having fucked around with death or death-adjacent recently.

And Constantine (along with the JL) discovers that:

1) He has a son.

2) His son somehow manages to constantly die and revive.

3) His son is following in his footsteps and fucking with supernatural entities.

4) Grim Reapers are very petty, because they're being more cryptid than usual and telling him everything except the whereabouts of his son.