#dannyfenton

“Yep” Constantine turned his back on the pentagram he’d drawn and cleared his throat, “Uh yes, sorry. It’s triple layered, so he couldn’t do anything even if he wanted-“

Bruce could only watch as Clark shot forward, only he was too late to stop the projectile that pegged the occult detective in the back of the head.

“Ow! The fuck was that!”

I made these because

A) I'm pan

2) Danny's bi

3) the fandom is very 🏳️‍🌈

Danny is still spinning.

Not fast.

Just enough to be annoying.

Damian is still glaring.

Not subtly.

Just enough to be threatening.

Batman is at the console, pulling up scans that make absolutely no sense.

“Cellular cohesion inconsistent,” he mutters. “Energy readings—nonstandard.”

Danny leans over the back of his chair.

“Hey, if it helps, most doctors just give up.”

“That does not help.”

“Worth a shot.”

Footsteps.

Measured.

Unhurried.

The kind that do not belong to anyone who fears what they might find in a cave full of vigilantes and questionable life choices.

Danny perks up.

“Ooo, new person?”

From the shadows—like he’s always been there—

Alfred Pennyworth appears, carrying a tray.

Of course he is.

There is tea.

There are sandwiches.

Because naturally there are.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred says smoothly, “I noticed the sudden increase in medical supply usage and assumed either a particularly rough patrol… or a guest.”

His gaze shifts.

Lands on Danny.

Takes him in.

Disheveled. Bloodstained. Bright-eyed. Sitting like he owns the place.

There’s a pause.

A very small one.

“…Ah,” Alfred says.

Danny beams. “Hi! I’m Danny.”

Alfred inclines his head. “Of course you are.”

Damian steps forward immediately. “He is not a guest.”

Danny points at the tray. “There are snacks. That feels like guest behavior.”

“He was kidnapped.”

“And then un-kidnapped. Growth.”

Alfred sets the tray down.

Calm. Precise.

“Master Damian,” he says gently, “if the young man is no longer restrained, no longer under duress, and currently being offered tea…”

A beat.

“…he is, by definition, a guest.”

Damian opens his mouth.

Closes it.

Because.

Unfortunately.

That is airtight logic.

Danny leans toward Alfred, stage whisper:

“I like him.”

“I gathered,” Alfred replies.

He picks up a cup.

Hands it to Danny.

Danny accepts it like this is the most normal thing in the world.

“Thanks!”

He takes a sip.

Pauses.

Eyes widen.

“…Okay, wait. This is amazing.”

Alfred allows himself the slightest hint of a smile.

“Freshly brewed.”

Batman turns.

“…Alfred.”

There’s a warning there.

A this is an active interrogation kind of warning.

Alfred does not even remotely care.

“Yes, sir?”

“This is not—”

“A hostile situation?” Alfred glances at Danny, who is now happily eating a sandwich. “I would disagree.”

Danny raises a finger, mouth full. “I mean, there was stabbing earlier.”

Alfred hums. “And yet you appear quite intact.”

“Oh yeah, I heal.”

Damian cuts in, frustrated, “Rapidly. From lethal injuries.”

Alfred’s gaze sharpens—just slightly.

He sets the tray down fully now.

“Is that so?”

Danny nods. “Yeah! Super convenient. Highly recommend.”

“You died,” Damian snaps.

Danny shrugs. “Briefly.”

Alfred stills.

Not dramatic.

Just… attentive.

“…I see.”

Batman watches him.

He knows that look.

Alfred steps closer to Danny.

“May I?” he asks, gesturing to Danny’s shoulder.

Danny brightens. “Oh! Yeah, sure.”

He tugs his collar aside.

There’s a faint mark—barely there—where a blade had gone clean through him not long ago.

Alfred studies it.

Gentle.

Careful.

Not clinical.

Not like Bruce.

More like—

…someone checking a child for injuries after a fall.

“Does it hurt?” Alfred asks.

Danny blinks.

Caught off guard.

“…Not really?”

“That was not the question.”

Danny hesitates.

“…It did,” he admits. “At the time.”

Alfred nods once.

Like that answers something important.

He straightens.

“Well then,” he says lightly, “we shall have to ensure you are not stabbed again this evening.”

Damian makes an incredulous noise.

“That is not the priority—”

“It is a priority, Master Damian.”

“It is Gotham,” Damian argues. “Stabbing is statistically—”

“—avoidable with proper supervision.”

Danny perks up. “Wait, am I being supervised now?”

Alfred looks at him.

Warm. Certain.

“Yes.”

Batman exhales slowly.

“…Alfred.”

“This young man,” Alfred continues, ignoring him entirely, “has experienced a traumatic event, displays highly irregular physiology, and—”

Danny raises a hand.

“Also I haven’t had dinner.”

Alfred nods. “—and is clearly in need of a proper meal.”

Damian throws his hands up. “We are not feeding the anomaly!”

Danny gasps. “Rude.”

Alfred turns to Damian.

Calm.

Unshakable.

“Master Damian,” he says, “you brought him here.”

Damian freezes.

“…I extracted him.”

“And in doing so,” Alfred replies smoothly, “you assumed responsibility.”

A beat.

Damian hates that.

Because it’s true.

Danny leans over to Batman.

“Is he always like this?”

Batman, after a long pause:

“…Yes.”

Danny nods approvingly. “Nice.”

Alfred picks up the tray again.

“Now then,” he says, “Master Danny—”

Danny lights up instantly.

“You may call me Alfred.”

“…Oh, we’re doing first names? Bold. I like it.”

“—you will come with me.”

Danny stands immediately.

No hesitation.

No suspicion.

Just trust.

Damian stares.

“…You are just going with him.”

Danny shrugs. “He has snacks.”

Valid.

Alfred gestures toward the stairs.

“Something warm, I think. And perhaps less… violent company.”

Danny glances back at Batman and Damian.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

He follows Alfred without a second thought.

Halfway up the stairs, he turns.

“Hey!”

They both look.

“On a scale of one to ten,” Danny says, “how much trouble am I in?”

Batman: “Undetermined.”

Damian: “Ten.”

Danny grins. “Cool.”

And disappears up the stairs with Alfred.

Silence settles over the cave.

Damian crosses his arms.

“…We are not keeping him.”

Batman watches the empty stairway.

Thinking.

Calculating.

Re-evaluating everything.

“…No,” he says slowly.

A beat.

“…We’re not.”

Upstairs—

faintly—

Danny’s voice echoes:

“WAIT, YOU HAVE COOKIES TOO??”

Alfred, somewhere behind him:

“Indeed.”

Batman closes his eyes.

Just briefly.

The sins of your people flow through your face like a stream. And who am I to tell you what to believe? You'll gladly bear the burden until you creak.

Cas conned Tim and Danny into both dressing up in her ballet costumes can't say no to Cas. In my mind, Tim, Danny, and Cas are of about the same size in clothes. Cas is the sugarplum fairy (Nutcracker), Tim is Odile, and Danny is Odette (Swan Lake).

Bruce got Cas a lot of stuff when she indicated she was interested in ballet. That does include a lot of ballet shoes in different colors. So she broke in the ones she liked the most, and Tim and Danny got some spares. (She would have worse White and Black with those costumes)

Danny is also taking creative license by using his powers to stand on tiptoes and by using his powers of flight to stabilize himself.

ATTRACTED TO YOU - Danny Fenton x Paulina Sanchez

👻💗 ANOTHER PINK ASTRONAUT REEL ✨😫

Basically, Paulina starts liking Danny Fenton, not just Phantom—and she has a stroke the entire time she tries to process her feelings 😐

Least with John and Danny he can be himself, and learn magic as Billy instead of Shazam, cause his Shazam side already knows magic! But Billy doesn’t and he wants the slow process experience, John teaches him but makes sure he never dares touch anything Occult.