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Council: Go on

Clockwork: Give him living connections by changing his age and biology THEN TAKING THOSE CONNECTIONS AWAY SO HE CAN WORK :D

Council: Ooookay, that's not gonna go badly AT ALL

Lady Gotham: I have a Better idea, let's let him have a full loving life BEFORE we make him get back to work!

Council: *applause*

‘So you’ve just been used as a sacrifice!: A guide on what happens now!’ is what title of the pamphlet that was handed to Tim. 

One moment he was in a warehouse hearing the yells of his family as Tim felt his body going numb, and the next he was in what could only be described as a gothic doctor’s waiting room. Taking in his surroundings he sees that he is the only other person in the seating area and a glowing human figure sitting behind a large desk near the front of the room.

When the figure notices him they give him a kind smile and hand him the pamphlet that he is now reading. The front page shows a white haired boy around his age smiling and a text bubble saying, “ The Ghost King means you no harm!” 

AKA "De-aged Danny finds himself in Crime Alley, Gotham City. It's actually not been super bad, he doesn't know why it has such a bad reputation! (Red Hood could probably tell you.)" DPxDC prompt idea!

Red Hood takes care of Crime Alley kids. He makes sure they aren't being used as drug runners, soup kitchens are always available to them, the community center offers toxin-free water bottles, and he's siphoned a ton of money from Bruce's accounts into making shelters at least tolerable. It's an open secret that you mess with alley kids, you mess with Red Hood (and get a couple of bullets to make the lesson stick). But there are a few that Red Hood knows personally - his goons' kids, his little brothers and sisters' friends, etc. - that get special treatment.

A blood red emblem of a bat stitched into their jacket.

This kid - maybe nine or ten, messy black hair, and bright blue eyes - doesn't have an emblem. He has Red Hood's jacket. It's recognizable enough to make regular civilians do a double take, goons scratch their heads in confusion ("Did Boss mention having a kid?" "No, but they do look pretty similar..."), and get other alley kids jealous. It's more than protection, it's a status symbol. Whoever this kid is, he's important.

...Not that Danny knows that. All he knows is he's suddenly smaller, alone, and needs to contact his parents to pick him up. Unfortunately, he gets his parent's voicemail. Again and again and again. (If he thinks about it too much, his face and throat burn. So he doesn't think about it. Just keeps calling and hopes somebody picks up this time.) But for all that Gotham is supposedly unsafe and super duper crime ridden, Danny's been pretty... unscathed? Like, obviously nobody's helping him, but nobody's hurting him either. He hasn't gotten shot once which is way less times than in Amity. He even found a dope leather jacket left on a railing while walking around downtown.

The only time he gets worried is when he's walking around Gotham (for lack of anything better to do. It helps him think, sue him) and these... costumed people... follow him. Danny doesn't know anything about Gotham, hasn't been able to talk with anybody to get information, so he doesn't know if these are good guys or bad guys. Just that they seem to be following him, watching him with a hawk's eye. And the last couple of days, they've been getting closer and closer until one - a big, dark, incredibly intimidating pointy-eared guy - literally tries to kidnap him off the streets.

Danny runs (or flew, really, screw being discrete, he can be discrete when he's... well, not dead). He realizes pretty quickly that these guys must have some kind of sensor or something because they have no problem seeing through his invisibility. And then Danny's crashing straight into something solid, semi-squishy, and not-quite-human but human-shaped. The kinda-human in question... is wearing a red motorcycle helmet and something like black armor, blood red bat on his chest, and guns strapped to his side. And he's looking straight at Danny.

Oh... shoot.

((+1. Jason notices his leather jacket is nicked maybe 3 or 4 minutes after accidentally dropping it off the roof. The jacket itself isn't super important but the fact somebody was willing to steal Red Hood's jacket while in Crime Alley means there's some "re-education" that needs to happen. He days following a trail of rumors about a young kid wearing his jacket. Which. He's not going apeshit on a kid, but he is going to replace his with a kid-friendly jacket. Jason's pretty sure he left a knife or two in his old one.

Issue is the kid's like a ghost. Appearing one moment and disappearing the next. Jason doesn't expect to nearly be knocked off his feet by the suddenly appearing, quite literally, in his arms... with bright Lazarus green eyes and a shock of white streaking his hair. The sight twists something in his chest. Something that chants same and different in the same breadth. Jason almost doesn't realize the kid is being chased by somebody... and that somebody is Bruce, cowl obscuring squinting suspicious eyes, stiff frown, and tense posture.

Jason's lips tick up in a half-snarling smile. It's well-known Red Hood protects alley kids. As he coaxes the Lazarus-kid behind him, hand over the familiar leather of his jacket, Jason faces Bruce and thinks well... it's a good day for a reminder. Because this kid is definitely his now.))

AKA "Clockwork assigned Danny with a Ghost King task: learn how to shapeshift. Now Danny is stuck in another dimension and can't ask for help from his friends; worse, he's stuck as a racoon." DPxDC prompt idea!

Being stuck as a racoon sucks. Being stuck in a dirty, crime-ridden city where people hate "rodents" and love tormenting helpless animals really, really sucks. Thankfully, Danny still has a pretty good grasp of his Ghost powers. (Not so thankfully, he also has what he calls "racoon brain" where he does, indeed, act like a feral animal. Several Gotham goons found that out after attempting to curb stomp him; those goons absolutely will need stitches, rabies shots - which he desperately hopes will hurt like a bitch, and will think twice about messing with local wildlife.)

This results in Danny hears an interesting rumor. It turns out that people talk pretty freely around animals when they aren't trying to chase them away. The philanthropist Bruce Wayne's youngest son is an avid animal rights activist and has rescued several unique animals, including a turkey, cow, monkey, and several bats. Danny... can definitely use this to his advantage. He can look cute and harmless (regardless of that one guy who was clutching his bleeding face and sobbing in terror, screaming about Danny being a freaky demon-rat. Shouldn't have messed with Danny Phan-...coon? Danny Racoon? He'll work on it.)

It turns out that getting into Wayne Manor is absurdly easy compared to getting to Wayne Manor. Once he's inside, he drops his invisibility and intangibility, padding along the expensive Persian rugs and probably-real-marble flooring. He follows the scent of food past a room that's a family den of some sort - his snout scrunches up into an amused toothy smile when he hears a stupefied, "Was that a racoon??" come from the couch. He trots onward.

The first thing he steals is some wheat crackers out of the pantry, happily tearing into the cardboard box and plastic packaging. Cheese and meat from the fridge, some grapes. He even snags an apple for later. He's carrying it in his mouth, passing two more bewildered people, and plodding along into the gardens. Danny hears a frustrated groan of Dami, not again and chortles happily to himself. No one stops him. He's literally never felt more powerful. (It may or may not be his raccoon brain speaking.)

The second time he breaks into the Manor is when it's raining. He's taken up residence in the gardens outside the Manor, stealing the outdoor furniture cushions and blankets left out to make a little nest among the trees. Except now it's downpouring and his nest is wet, his fur is wet, and he's more than a little devastated. This time when he breaks in, there's a British gentleman waiting in the kitchen - he only raises an eyebrow before sighing, procuring meats, fruits, and nuts on a little plate as if he was expecting Danny. Danny, also like a gentleman, uses his little paws to shovel the food into his face and snorts a funny little bark in thanks.

The third time is... well, the Manor has a lot of beds. It would be a shame if Danny didn't use one. (His favorite cushions and blanket were still wet from the rainstorm earlier that week). He's sprawled out on his back, snoring lightly, and enjoying the warm bedsheets when a hand carefully strokes his side. It startles him out of his light doze but it's surprisingly nice, so he lets out a pleased little grumble. After a moment of careful petting, the touch firms and he's scooped up into big, strong arms.

"Damian," The voice is deep and rumbly. "I thought I told you no more pets? You won't have enough time to take care of them between school and patrol."

A different, smaller hand hovers over his nose. Oddly enough, it smells like Autosol metal polish, a feline (don't as him how he knows that), and paint. Danny gives the hand an inquisitive lick before remembering he is, in fact, not a wild animal. Well. He kinda wishes he could die again so he doesn't have to face reality. Damn racoon brain! He shoves his face into the crook of the Big Man's arm with a humiliated whine and smacks his paws into his face, wanting to scratch his eyes out. He licked. Someone's hand.

"He is clearly already house-trained, Father, and he is fond of you. Would you be so cruel as to cast him out into the cold, where a fox or coyote would kill him if he survives starvation and hypothermia?"

The Big Man sighs, moving where Danny's squished up against his gigantic chest (wow, Danny absolutely needs to do whatever exercise makes that happen), and there's a moment he wonders if he actually will be kicked out. It won't matter anyway. Danny can literally just keep coming back like a... Yeah, he's not going to finish that thought. This is an assignment. He's learning... something. Racoon brain is tired. He'll learn after the British guy gives him more grapes and he takes another nap.

"What's his name?"

There's a pause before the younger voice says, "Bandit."

Danny lets out a disgruntled little huff. It's Danny, he wants to say, but he'd need to be human for that and he's also probably earned the name. Shoot, the wet blankets and cushions. Whoops. Yeah, he definitely earned that name. The Big Man laughs as if he can read Danny's mind which... would not be good. The Wayne family might be willing to harbor a ghost but he doubts they'd help a blue-eyed, black-haired teenager in desperate need of a mentor. (Ha.)

Someway Some how. Danny ends up stuck in a game cursed cartridge.

DPxDC short angst cause why not if you put this on TT I want credit :(

It starts with the incessant ringing of a phone that shouldn’t be going off til the sun has fallen below the city skyline. Yet the sun hangs heavy in the sky watching through the cracks of curtained windows as the phone chimes away from its place.

A nap interrupted by the ringing draws out anger so easily let lose in curses as the phone is lifted from its charger and the call is answered.

“Someone better be-“ Jason hadn’t even gotten all of the words out before he is stopped by the sound of crying on the other end. Crying itself would be unordinary for anyone contacting him of all people. but these? These are truly heart wrenching wet sobs. The kind that shake the entire body and rattle ribs.

“Jazz…’m sorry!” The person -a kid from how young the wet voice sounds- cries over the phone, having not heard the start of Jason’s sentence. Whether that be because of his own crying or the shouting a commotion in the background, Jason can’t tell. “I told mom an-and dad.” He stops the stutter out a breath, sobs berly breaking. “You tol’ me not to without you an’ I did any way. And now they’re gonna-“

The call didn’t end only his voice stopped as the sounds in the background came closer to the phone. Shouting, threats of violence and then the phone call ends. Just like that.

He didn't waste any time and immediately called Barbara. "Jason, I thought-", "Can you find who called me just now? Somethings wrong." He could hardly hold on to his senses. A child's voice. Scared one. About his parents. "Gimme a second, what happened?", he could hear her moving around, "Wrong number. Called me Jazz? He said he didn't listened her now his parents are attacking him." A strangled sound came from her throat. "Give me the number."

He took the phone off his ear and read the numbers. He started to put his clothes on as he waited. "Belongs to someone named Samantha Manson. It's her second number, bought it a few years ago but never used until now. It's from Illinois, somewhere called Amity Park." "Can you send someone from JL? And send me the first number. They must know who uses this one."

"Sending Flash as he is closest. Have sent you the number. Looking for 'Jazz' now. If I find it will send it too." While he didn't have a speedster friend, he knew they were competent enough. "Thanks Babs, heading to Cave, will go up to tower if necessary. Let them know.", "Will do, be careful." He took his keys and left his apartment.

Before starting his motorcycle, he called the number. "Hello?" Confused girls voice came to his ear. "Is this Samantha Manson?", he pulled out to the road. "Yes it is? Who am I speaking with?" His sight filled with green for a second, "Do you have a friend that's unsafe in their home?" There was a gasp and the line went dead. Was this enough to realize? Was his home this bad?

His travel to the manor was in a blur. Keeping the green down was getting harder but he managed. Alfred greeted him and directed him to Cave. "Master Bruce has been informed by Miss Gordon. He is waiting for you." He huffed, but nodded. When elevator stopped, they stepped out.

"Jason." Bruce's voice was strained. There was some documents opened up on the screen of the Bat-Computer, and some in his hands. "Did they found him?" He nodded. "Flash did. Took him to Watchtower. He is in bad shape, was unconscious. His sister was notified, by his friends. We took his parents in for custody, they are in police station in their town. His name is Daniel, and turns out, he is not fully human. He should be protected by the Meta-Human Rights but there's an act called Anti-Ecto Acts. Makes him non-sentient, captured on sight. Once captured, experimented and exterminated. It was vetoed, yet they tricked the townsfolk and said it was approved." Blood drained from his face. What?

"What?" Anger could be heard in his voice. Green crept and covered his sight. His ears were ringing. He could hear screams for help, of cursing, begging. I didn't do it! They tricked me! It's so cold, I don't wanna be alone. Who would put that there, that's dangerous! There is no need for him now. I want to play! I don't want to be sick anymore...

Men and women, adult to child. So many, so many screams. "-the! Please Jason! Breathe!" He took a deep breath. His lungs burned. Bruce was right in front of him, holding his shoulders. He could feel Alfred's hand on his back. "I'm fine." He pushed his father's Bruce's hands away. He looked a little sad but it was not his problem. Bruce took a few steps back and shook his head, Alfred had stepped back too. "Once Daniel gets better, we are going to move him to Hall of Justice, so his friends and sister can meet up." Until then we're going to interrogate his parents and shut down this Ghost Investigation Ward." Jason nodded.

Tucker has seen him missing a good chunk of his shoulder. Sam's stitched up his wounds; jutting slashes of his stomach before finals. Jazz has seen the worst— the wounds inflicted by their parents— and her fingers only shook minorly while applying ecto-burn cream.

No one outside of their friend group really notices. Long-sleeved shirts are shields and his reputation is his wielded weapon.

He just... kinda assumes it's the same everywhere as it is in Amity Park.

When Danny is forced into a Wayne gala as a begrudging plus-one to Vlad, and Sam weasels into joining them through pure spite and manipulation.

It's downright miserable, especially since he and Vlad had duked it out barely minutes before they stepped through the extravagant doors. Their usual spat made him feel weak and his hands and arms were stinging like crazy, even in human form.

Sam drags him into an empty room the moment she sees him, and only then did Danny notice that he's bleeding. His clenched fists had hid it initially, but now there's red and green tinged blood spreading and smearing on his hands.

"Where am I bleeding now?" Danny questions, almost sounding like he's whining. It's deeply resigned, exasperated, and definitely frustrated.

It's not the first time where he has millions of cuts or injuries and he doesn't know where he's bleeding from.

He instinctually removes his scratchy dress shirt to see if there's more damage on his arms. Scars criss-cross around his entire upper body, and there's more serious burns and cuts than he'd assumed from the fight with Vlad, but neither of the fifteen-year-olds are disturbed.

Why would they be? He's Phantom, and they've done patch-ups everywhere, dozens of times.

It was awkward at first, but that's purely on Bruce's side of things. The two children seemed to have completely written him off after half a minute and gone back to their own business, talking in hushed tones.

"Are you listening, Bruce?" Dinah asked.

He blinked at the wall. "Of course, Dinah dear."

"You bullshitting me?"

"Yes,"

A sigh. "At least your honest. I can call back in a bit?"

"That'd be great. Sorry dear, just a little distracted."

"Arkham?"

"No, one of the kids is just a bit scratched up is all."

"One of yours or a civilian?"

"The second one this month! I'm afraid I'll have to take his license away if he's not more careful on that bike."

Dinah snorted. "Like that'll stop him. I thought you were at a party? What kind of civilian gets hurt at a fancy rich-people party?"

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, my dear, but you're fancy rich-people." One of the kids, the boy, snorted on the other side of the room. Bruce took it as a win. "And, yes, it's quite boring tonight."

This time, the girl said, "What, not enough alcohol?"

Bruce looked over at her, "Not nearly," he said, "Dinah, my love, I'll call you later tonight. Give Oli kisses for me."

Dinah laughed loudly. "Yeah, yeah. Talk to ya later, Battison." She hung up before he could so much as roll his eyes.

DPxDC short angst cause why not if you put this on TT I want credit :(

It starts with the incessant ringing of a phone that shouldn’t be going off til the sun has fallen below the city skyline. Yet the sun hangs heavy in the sky watching through the cracks of curtained windows as the phone chimes away from its place.

A nap interrupted by the ringing draws out anger so easily let lose in curses as the phone is lifted from its charger and the call is answered.

“Someone better be-“ Jason hadn’t even gotten all of the words out before he is stopped by the sound of crying on the other end. Crying itself would be unordinary for anyone contacting him of all people. but these? These are truly heart wrenching wet sobs. The kind that shake the entire body and rattle ribs.

“Jazz…’m sorry!” The person -a kid from how young the wet voice sounds- cries over the phone, having not heard the start of Jason’s sentence. Whether that be because of his own crying or the shouting a commotion in the background, Jason can’t tell. “I told mom an-and dad.” He stops the stutter out a breath, sobs berly breaking. “You tol’ me not to without you an’ I did any way. And now they’re gonna-“

The call didn’t end only his voice stopped as the sounds in the background came closer to the phone. Shouting, threats of violence and then the phone call ends. Just like that.

First I was thinking Danny should be younger then fourteen when he becomes a Halfa all so he has a harder time hiding it from his parents and the Woden the age difference between jazz and him so she’s like off touring collages when it happens then in collage when their parents find out leaving her feeling like she failed Danny in every way possible.

Then I thought about what Jason would walk into once he gets Babs and Tim to track down the call. A vertical Laz pit in a lab filled with specimens in various states of experiments.

And Danny, locked away, restrained and forced to watch it all. In harmed physically for thee most part but absolutely traumatized by what he was forced to watch his parents do.