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Swap au where Shen Yuan wakes up as recent runaway Shen Jiu just a few days before the disciple selection- according to his brand new life companion and master, System.
Shen Yuan has his freak out, System forces him to comply with plot points, and eventually he ends up at the mountain, digging holes.
He's nervous. He's terrified. He's also super, super excited to meet his favorite protagonist, Qing Jing Peak's Master, Luo Binghe; and when Luo Binghe calls on him, and they meet eyes, Shen Yuan realizes one very important thing.
The book did *not* do his protagonist justice. Not one bit. His new shizun is *so fucking cool.*
He's taken to the peak. The tea ceremony happens, and the entire time, Shen Yuan does his best to hide the stars that must be in his eyes. His favorite protagonist! Is now his Shizun!!
But Binghe, from the moment the tea ceremony started, has been nothing but cold to him. Not in a "we're strangers" way, but in a way that felt almost...hostile.
Shen Yuan's so nervous that sweat runs down his back, but the entire acceptance ceremony goes off without a hitch, so...maybe he imagined it?
It was not imagined. A few days later, Shen Yuan finds himself in the exact same position as Cannon Luo Binghe: in a woodshed, hated by everyone.
He has no idea what he did wrong. Doesn't understand why this is happening. Did he offend the protagonist in some way? Was the tea *that* bad??
In the end, with System wholey unhelpful, Shen Yuan has nothing to go on but a tentative theory that, well, plot is going to plot, and no matter what he does, it won't change a thing for Shen Jiu's Fate.
Shen Yuan goes into a bit of a depression after that. Just a bit. But it's fine! So what if he doesn't show up for class anymore? So what if he doesn't even try to sneak food? The woodshed is nice. It's dark, it's private (for the most part), and no one bothers him (unless it's to punish him). All he has to do is be seen keeping up with chores every so often, let the bullies beat him up, and then he can blissfully hide away in his 5☆ accommodations without issue!
Except someone does notice. Eventually. It takes a little while since he often takes missions off peak, but one day on his way back to the bamboo house, Binghe sees his newest Disciple struggling to lift an axe.
Something about the image strikes him as odd, but he dismisses it quickly and goes about his day, thinking that a ten year old fresh off the streets would, of course, be struggling to lift something so heavy.
He receives notice later that that same Disciple hasn't been showing up to class. That odd strike of wrongness hits him again, but he smothers it under minor offense and schedules to have a *talk* with his newest disciple before the end of the week.
Something catches his attention only a day later. A conversation between a small group of disciples traveling between classes. At first he isn't sure what it was, but then he hears it.
His newest disciple is being...starved. Abused. Forced to perform manual labor until collapse, then framed and beaten as punishment for minor infractions that he never even did.
Binghe is horrified. He memorizes these disciples' faces and then rushes to the dorms as quickly as he can without appearing to be running, the entire time thinking back to the last time he saw his disciple and cursing himself to not noticing the obvious. What kind of Shizun was he? Was he so far removed from his past that he couldn't recognize all the signs?!
Once he reaches the dorms, he grabs a disciple and orders them to bring out their newest shidi (What was his name? Shen-? Shen *what?*).
He expects easy obedience. Instead, he's met with hesitance. Shifty eyes. He makes his order again, perhaps a bit too harshly, and is given a nervous statement, "Shidi isn't here."
But that was ridiculous. This disciple hadn't even checked. How would they know he wasn't there?
A thought strikes him, and he enters the dorm himself, dragging the disciple behind him. He glances around, and sure enough, his newest little disciple isn't here, but this doesn't surprise him now. No, it's only validating the theory forming in his head.
"Which bed belongs to your Shidi?"
The boys in the room all go silent. The one under his hand looks as if Binghe had come to personally cut his head off.
"...none of them, shizun."
Theory confirmed.
"Then," He just barely keeps from hissing. "Where. Has your *ten year old shidi*. Been *sleeping.*"
The woodshed.
*The Woodshed.*
The disciple under his hand is near tears. "Please forgive us, Shizun! We thought he'd offended you in some way, so we were trying to drive him out. But he just wouldn't go!"
Offended me? He wonders. As he rushes off again, those two words keep appearing. He knows he'd been a bit quiet and absent with his newest disciple, but for his other disciples to see that and decide to do something like *this?*
The horror begins to hit him as the woodshed appears in the distance. His peak was sheltered. Nearly all of the children here came from decent backgrounds. They did not know what life on the streets is like; the feeling of slowly withering away, of bruises that never stopped aching, and injuries that never healed quite right. Sheltered. His peak was sheltered.
He'd never realized that was a problem 'til now.
Disciple Shen is not in the woodshed, but it's obvious he'd been sleeping there. Luo Binghe forces himself to take a good look, then turns on a heel and starts searching the surrounding forest.
He finds him eventually at a creek's edge, two full buckets held in hands gaunt and boney. The poor boy is struggling to lift them, arms shaking, breath unsteady. His little face is pale and hollow. His eyes...Luo Binghe remembered them to be shy but bright, full of awe and admiration and green like the bamboo around them.
They're dark now. Grey and starless.
Qing Jing Peak had done that to him.
*Luo Binghe* had done that to him.
The Peak Lord feels shame well up inside, but he pushes it aside and calls out.
Disciple Shen responds instantly. Freezing. Those eyes come up and...he's glad to see that empty stare go, but the caution and anxiety spear through his heart. Binghe had never wanted a child under his care to ever fear him. It seemed, through his own foolishness, he'd achieved just that.
The summoning circle glowed an eerie green, casting sharp shadows around the Justice League's meeting chamber. John Constantine, sleeves rolled up and cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered the last words of the incantation. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the magical energy.
When the green smoke cleared, instead of the imposing figure of the Ghost King they’d expected, a scrawny teenager in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed.
“Seriously?!” Danny Phantom groaned, throwing up his hands. “It’s a school night!”
The room collectively blinked. Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged confused glances. Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl, while the Batkids—perched around the room like chaotic gargoyles—leaned forward, intrigued.
“This… is the Ghost King?” Nightwing asked, his voice skeptical but amused.
“Ghost King?” Danny repeated, holding up a hand. “Nope. Wrong guy. Try again.”
“Clearly, this is a child,” Robin said flatly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Either the summoning ritual failed, or we’ve been deceived.”
“Who are you calling a child, mini-Nightmare?” Danny shot back, floating an inch off the ground to look taller. “I’m fifteen. How old are you, eight?”
“I am fourteen, you insufferable spirit,” Robin snapped, glaring daggers at him. “And you are woefully unqualified to speak to me in such a tone.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Robin Junior. Let me know when you grow a sense of humor.”
Red Hood, perched casually on a table nearby, barked out a laugh. “I like this kid already.”
Robin scowled. “You would.”
Red Hood swung his legs off the table, standing to his full height. “Alright, Casper, if you’re not the Ghost King, why’d this ritual grab you instead?”
“That’s a great question! Wish I knew!” Danny said, throwing up his hands.
Constantine frowned, stepping closer. “You’re definitely ghostly, mate, and half-alive by the looks of you.” His sharp gaze softened just slightly. “You’re a bloody halfa.”
Danny froze, eyes darting to the swirling green barrier still holding him in the circle (not really). “I’m a ghost. And yeah, I’m alive. What’s it to you?”
Batman loomed closer, his deep voice cutting through the room. “If you’re not the Ghost King, why does this summoning work?”
“Great question! Wish I knew!” Danny threw up his arms again, his ectoplasm glowing faintly in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are, and you’ve already ruined my night! or Maybe the universe hates me. That’d explain a lot!”
“Who even made this circle?” Red Hood asked, pointing at Constantine. “Did you check it? It’s glowing green. That’s ghost vibes, man.”
“Thanks for the observation, Red Hood,” Constantine said dryly. “What gave it away, the ectoplasm or the ghost?”
“You are in no position to demand answers,” Batman growled.
“Oh my god, you’re worse than my parents,” Danny muttered.
Before Batman could respond, the air grew colder. A heavy, oppressive presence filled the room as green flames erupted in the middle of the chamber. From the flames stepped Pariah Dark, fully armored and radiating raw power, his glowing eyes zeroing in on Danny.
The League tensed, weapons at the ready, but Pariah didn’t even look at them. Instead, his expression softened in a way that could only be described as paternal as he reached out and plucked Danny out of the circle like a child grabbing a stuffed animal.
“Who dares summon my child?” Pariah rumbled, his deep voice shaking the room. He cradled Danny in one massive hand as though he were the most precious treasure in existence. Danny, for his part, just sighed and leaned against one of Pariah’s fingers.
“Dad, chill. They’re not trying to hurt me—” Danny shot a glare at Batman, “—yet.”
“‘Dad’?” Robin echoed, utterly baffled.
“They stressed him out,” Pariah continued as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “This is the third time in two weeks. Do you know how much sleep he’s lost? He has school!”
Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The third summoning this week,” he growled. “And for what? To disrupt his rest? His studies?”
“Studies?” Robin repeated incredulously. “This alleged ‘Ghost Prince’ is concerned with—”
“School,” Red Hood supplied helpfully, smirking. “That tracks. He’s just a kid.”
“I’M NOT JUST A KID!” Danny protested, his voice cracking slightly. Jason snorted.
Before anyone else could respond, Fright Knight materialized beside Pariah, his armor gleaming and his sword crackling with ghostly energy. He took one look at the summoning circle and grimaced.
“Shall I eliminate the offenders, my liege?” he asked Pariah, his grip tightening on his sword.
“No!” Danny yelped, waving his hands frantically. “No eliminating, no smiting! We talked about this, remember?”
Pariah sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “They stressed you out,” he rumbled. “They should pay.”
“They’ll be fine,” Danny muttered. “Just… let me handle it, okay?”
“‘Fine,’ he says,” Red Hood muttered. “We’re seconds away from getting blasted into the afterlife.”
Robin's hand drifted toward his sword, his eyes darting between Pariah and Fright Knight. “This is absurd. We are the Justice League. Surely, we are not so easily—”
“Shut it, kid,” Consttantine interrupted. “Unless you want to test if we’re actually ‘fine.’”
Danny groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”
Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We summoned you because we need the Ghost King’s aid to stop a catastrophic magical event threatening the world.”
“Then why not summon him?” Danny snapped. “I’m not the king!”
“Yet the ritual brought you,” Batman said, his voice a mix of curiosity and accusation.
Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The crown does not transfer unless challenged. And none shall dare challenge my son.”
Danny squirmed in his ghost-dad’s grip. “Okay, Dad, they get it. Can you not threaten to destroy the world for five minutes?”
Pariah huffed but gently set Danny down, though he remained close, a looming shadow of protective menace.
Constantine rubbed his temples, muttering something about “bloody teenagers” and “overprotective ghost tyrants.” Meanwhile, the Batkids exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.
Danny sighed. “Look, I’ll help you guys with your big, scary magical problem, but can we make it quick? I have a chem test tomorrow.”
Okay it's time for another one. I recently read one of the fanfics where Danny is Tim's younger brother and that got me thinking.
What if Danny was younger than Damien?
Like by the time and Danny comes into the picture Damien is 17 preparing to go to med school. And hear me out. What is it Damian also wanted a mentee/younger brother so he stalks Danny for a bit before he talks to Tim and is like "he's perfect I'll take him" fully expecting Bruce to adopt him
Now Danny for his part has been adopted as is obvious but the reason he's reaching out is because he knows the sentence are going to go to jail (Jazz has had enough and clockwork told her to go wild) and is looking for some family to take him in at least until he becomes an adult.
He met Tim a couple of times and he's pretty nice super thoughtful and doesn't push him if Danny doesn't want to. They're slowly getting to know each other until one Damian Wayne decides to speak to Danny himself. The meeting ended with a random wall in crime alley painted it with beautiful stars with the two boys laughing and Damien showing him all about the techniques he used as Danny tried it to replicate it.
Danny really liked his brother's brother. He was super nice and did they even agreed to meet up more! It's a pleasant surprise and according to Damien he wanted to meet Danny because if he was Tim's brother he's family! Honestly he doesn't understand why people call him grumpy he's such a nice dude. Maybe it's because his normal face looks like he's going to murder someone? Doesn't matter everything's going well.
It comes to the point where Danny feels comfortable enough to tell Damian about his living situation and why he's reaching out in the first place and Damien in his mind just about confirms that he's going to get adopted one way or another.
As soon as Tim finds out from Danny talking about how nice his brother is and everything he's taught him he's going to be so baffled. Like Damian Wayne? My little murder brother? The grumpy one? Are you sure we're talking about the same Damien???? And Danny's not happy because Damian is so nice how could he not see that!
It comes to the point where Damian is slowly stealing Danny away and the family tries to intervene only for Damien to pull out a mug then he got him with the words "best art teacher" as he raises one eyebrow to them.... Damien what did you learn that from Alfred stop it. it's identical
Damian does not stop he goes to Bruce asking for him to adopt Danny , he goes to Dick for advice , he's searching up about mental health and how to cook as he thinks it's going to be a good bonding activity
Tim is losing his mind because he somehow has entered a competition for his newly found little brother with the youngest gremlin that apparently just picked him up and decided to keep him
Tim at this point gets contingencies in case Damian tries to steal Danny through court
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Another DPXDC for ya fellas!
Pandora, the ghost, was an Amazon from Themyscira in life, losing her life to trap all of those eldritch horro
There is a teenager in the Watchtower.
Scratch that, there is a teenager that Bruce doesn't know in the Watchtower. The boy, maybe around Tim's age, is wearing worn blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a pair of tennis shoes that had seen better days.
He is wearing no mask, no suit of armor, with no weapons on him. He's just sitting in one of the seats in their larger meeting room, quite literally twiddling his thumbs. He hadn't noticed Batman standing in the doorway.
Behind him, he heard Clark coming round the corner, Bruce lifted up a gloved hand which made the man stop.
"What is it, Bats?"
Bruce sent the man a look before motioning to the boy, who had definitely noticed them now.
He waved at them.
"Who is that? Don't you normally require all your new kids wear costumes up here?" Clark asked.
"Unknown." Bruce said before giving his friend a look. "He's not mine."
Why does everyone assume it's his kid? Just because this boy has dark hair and blue eyes does not mean he belongs to Bruce. Clark has nearly the same looks as Bruce, and he had two kids, why couldn't this one be one of his?
"He's not mine either!" Clark said before frowning. "Not that I know of."
Bruce lifted up an eyebrow, knowing his friend could see it beneath his cowl. Clark rolled his eyes.
"Let's be honest if he was one of mine, you would know before I would."
Bruce grunted and turned back to the teenager. The kid was clearly listening in on them while looking away from them. Bruce watched as he tapped on the table in front of him, making little staccato noises of anxiety.
"Why are we waiting out here?" Barry asked, appearing right in a blur of red and yellow right as he did. Clark pointed at the unknown in the meeting room. Barry grinned widely beneath his own cowl, making the rubbery material crinkle.
"Batsy! Another one? You sly dog, where'd you find this one?"
"He's not mine." Bruce growled, Barry actually froze for a moment, shock slowing him down to normal speed for a moment.
"Nice joke, Bats. If he's not yours, then whose is he?"
Bruce clenched his jaw, Barry looked between the two of them, head flipping rapidly until he realized it wasn't a joke. In the corner of his eye, he could see that the unknown was openly staring at them with a smile forming on his face.
"We are in space." Barry hissed. "How'd a random kid get in here?"
"Excuse me?"
Behind the three hero pile up, Arthur arrived. The King looked less than pleased at having his way impeded.
"I come to these bi-monthly meetings due to their importance. I have an entire kingdom to manage, so if we could all move?"
"Bats has a new kid!" Barry nearly shouted.
"He's not mine!" Bruce growled while Arthur looked up and over Barry to see the unknown.
"Do we have a security breach?" Arthur asked.
"He's not yours yet!" Barry said at the same time, lifting up a finger and pointing it right at Bruce's face.
"We don't know who it is or how they got here." Clark said. "He doesn't seem hostile."
"Appearances can be deceiving, Superman." Arthur said , pursing his lips. Bruce turned to see that the boy had now waved in greeting at Arthur and Barry. Barry waved back.
"Are we having a hallway party or something?" Captain Marvel asked. "A party sounds waaaay more fun than a meeting, no offense Batman."
"We have an intruder, Captain." Arthur said pointing directly at the kid.
The kid's eyes widened and he looked behind himself before pointing at his own chest in surprise.
"He doesn't seem like an intruder?" Marvel said with a frown. "What if he's lost?"
"The watchtower is a secure facility, people don't get here by accident." Bruce said.
"I dunno, Batman." Marvel shrugged. "We have aliens, magicians, and time travelers on our team. He could be lost."
Bruce refused to admit the genial man had a point, the unknown could be from anywhere or anywhen. From further down the hallway, John and Diana appeared, walking together. Diana was holding a glass filled with one of Barry's chocolate protein shakes. John nodded in greeting at the group.
"We have an intruder Wonder Woman." Arthur said.
Diana looked through the crowd before shaking her head.
"Nonsense. He has permission to be here. Come, we should sit for the meeting."
Diana muscled her way through the crowd, still carrying the glass. She walked directly over to the unknown. The boy perked up, smiling widely as Diana held out the glass for him
"Thanks, i was getting hungry." The boy said before taking a large gulp of the shake, Diana smiled down at the boy, resting her hand in his dark hair.
"Woah. Plot twist." Barry whispered.
"Come on, let's get to the bottom of this." Clark said walking into the room, following the path Diana took.
The rest of the League followed suit, taking their assigned seats around the table. Bruce wasn't surprised to see that the unknown was sitting in an extra chair right next to Diana.
"To start the meeting." Diana said onc everyone was seated. "I do have some news to share."
"Yeah, I sure hope so." Marvel said in that strange, joking tone he used as if he were quoting something, not that Bruce had ever been able to recognize the quotes.
"I would like to introduce the Justice League to my son, Daniel of Themyscira." Diana said, putting her arm around the unknown and squeezing him to her side.
"Hi." Daniel said, waving at the group, his cheeks a bit red.
Immediately, there was an uproar from most everyone in the League. Questions and shouts of confusion, shock, and denial. Diana only allowed the noise for a few moments before she slammed her fist onto the table hard enough to crack it.
"Enough!" She shouted, quickly quelling the group. "I will not allow my decision to bring my son here be questioned."
She glared at them fiercely, still holding Daniel to her side. The boy had ducked down a bit with the shouting but was now looking up at Diana with adoration.
"This entire team, aside from Captain Marvel, has brought their young charges to the League." Diana continued, looking at each of them. "Superman has brought up two Superboys, Aquaman introduced to us Aqualad, Flash has both Impulse and Kid Flash, Martian Manhunter came to us with Miss Martian. I do not believe we even have time to list all of Batman's brood."
Barry had the audacity to snort at Diana's last point. That actually eased the tension and people relaxed. Diana leaned back into her seat.
"I would think that my team of many years would trust my judgment in bringing my son here. I assure you he is well into his training and more than competent. I will allow you all to ask your questions now."
Bruce cleared his throat near silently and spoke up first.
"What does he know?"
Diana didn't look impressed at his question. Daniel looked at her face before frowning at Bruce, clearly following his mother's lead.
"I have spoken at length about the League and how we work together. I assure you that i have not revealed any identities shared in confidence with me." Diana's tone made it clear she was offended that Bruce would accuse her of revealing their identities. He barely kept from wincing.
"Uhm. How did he... come to be?" Clark asked, clearly not wanting to ask any truly intimate details.
"In the way all children do." Diana said, giving Clark a look of his own.
That answer was not very helpful given that Diana was formed from clay by her mother. Had she taken a pottery class when he wasn't looking? Unless the boy was much older than he appeared, there was no way Diana had hidden a pregnancy from them 15 or so years ago.
"Why haven't we heard of him before now?" Arthur asked.
"Daniel was training with Pandora, one of the elders of Themyscira, she sent him here when he learnt all she had to teach. He joined me in the world of man only a few months ago." Diana answered simply.
"Uh. Excuse my ignorance." Barry said in a tone that made it clear he was about to say something very ignorant indeed. "But I thought your family only had women in it?"
This time Daniel answered, looking nervous.
"I'm. I'm trans actually." he answered, while rubbing his arm nervously.
"Which is completely fine and something that will not leave this room." Diana said, her voice comforting towards her son while her eyes promised hellfire to the heroes in the room.
Everyone made noises of agreement until Daniel relaxed, going back to smiling.
"Excuse me Wonder Woman, will Daniel be wanting to join any of the other, younger teams?" Captain Marvel asked, sounding excited at the idea.
Which of course he would, he was still acting Den Mother for Young Justice and loving it.
"That is up to him. For now I would like to keep him to myself for a while longer, but once he is further trained by myself I think it would be a splendid opportunity."
"Yes!" Daniel agreed before clearing his throat. "I mean, that'd be cool or whatever."
"We can discuss it in the future." Bruce allowed, knowing that it would probably happen sooner than Diana would want knowing how both the Teen Titans and Young Justice were. Danny nodded eagerly at that.
"Finish your food." Diana told Daniel before looking back up at the rest of the team. "Are there any more questions?"
"Does Daniel have any health requirements or powers we need to be aware of?" John asked. "Or is his physiology the same as your own?"
"His powers are vastly different from my own. It is one of the reasons Pandora had taken on his training in the beginning." Diana answered easily. "The facilities and resources we have here should work well for him in case of injury."
The knowledge that Daniel's powers were so different from Diana's that she didn't feel comfortable training him herself was worrisome. Amazons, as far as he knew, had relatively similar powersets. Although he had not heard of Pandora before, perhaps she was specialized?
"I do have, what's it called? An enhanced metabolism. Most stuff here doesn't work on me."
"Don't worry son. We have plenty of medications designed with metas in mind." Clark told Danny. "If it works on me and your mom, it willl work for you."
"Cool."
"What all can you do?" Captain Marvel asked.
Daniel turned to look at Diana who nodded. The boy then looked back at them and started listing his powers.
"I can fly. Not as fast as mom's invisible jet but pretty fast. I'm super strong. I can turn invisible and intangible."
"Intangible?" Clark asked.
"It is an ability similar to Martian Manhunter's density shifting." Diana clarified. "The mechanisms are different."
Magical, most likely, instead of John's more science based power. Bruce would have to come up with more contingencies to compensate for that.
"Yeah intangibility is pretty cool." Daniel told them. "Althought when i first got it, it was pretty scary. I kept falling through stuff. I was almost afraid I'd start falling through the whole planet by accident. I totally have it under control now though."
"I would be interested in comparing our abilities, Daniel." John said, nodding his head towards him. The boy beam excitedly.
"Yeah!"
"Not in the Watchtower." Diana warned, voice stern.
Yes, that was probably sensible. Danny agreed with his mother, and John clarified that he would be happy to meet up planetside at their convenience.
"Are those all of your abilities?" Barry asked, Daniel shook his head.
"No there are a bunch more. But I'm not supposed to use them for a while."
"Why?"
"My son is powerful, but he has relied on his powers far too much in the past." Diana said, sounding porud enough to make her son blush. "Right now, I am training his melee abilities, we have agreed to a temporary pause until he has met my standards."
"It's been super tough. Mom's making me practice with her sword all the time." Danny added on.
"My mother will be sending on your own weapon soon." Diana soothed. "Hephestes does not like to be rushed."
"I know mom."
Diana reached up and ruffled her son's hair. Daniel leaned into the affection with a smile.
"Are there any further questions?" Diana asked, when no one had anything immediately she nodded. "Good. Is there any further business? If not, I would like to take my son home for a proper meal."
Everyone looked at each other. Bruce had wanted to discuss some of his findings, but with Diana's reveal, it hardly seemed important any longer. Bruce was going to need to do a lot of research and planning. He wondered if he should get Tim involved or if he should hold off. The League agreed to end the meeting early, Diana stood.
"Come Daniel. We should get to the jet."
Daniel scrambled up and followed his mother out of the meeting room, his worn sneakers squeaking a bit on the flooring. The rest of the League sat in silence for a moment taking in what Diana had told them.
Wonder Woman had a child. A child with powers beyond her own.
Daniel popped back into the room before anyone could speak.
"Gosh, I am sorry I almost forgot. Mr. Batman, I have something for you."
Daniel walked right over to Bruce, who stared at him from underneath the cowl. The boy was not nearly as confident as his mother when it came to his glare. He cringed a bit, but reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, silver and green flash drive. He placed it on the table and stepped back.
"What is that?"
"Mom told me you like to make contingencies for everyone. In case they go crazy or whatever. So..." The boy motioned to the drive with his hand. "I mean, it'd be weird if i made my own plans, but like, you could do it. That has all my powers and weaknesses and stuff."
Bruce grabbed the flash drive and the boy looked pleased.
"Okay! I gotta go. It was awesome meeting you guys!"
Daniel turned on his heel and ran out of the room. Bruce looked down at the flash drive, doing his best to hide his shock. No one has ever just handed him a list of their weaknesses before.
"I dunno Bats, are you sure he's not yours?" Barry asked.
who is eight? I don’t have time to catch up on all the lore :(
Eight is Legundo's Skyblock Kingdoms character!
Basically, Eight is an avatar in a video game that has become self-aware that he's in roleplay server and that everybody is doing bits and lore and is just generally aware of whole medium. He knows he exists in videos and livestreams, and that there's a chat and people make tiktoks and posts analyzing everything. He is a character who knows he is a character. This post by Nullifi is also a good break-down of it, particularly the "eighth wall" stuff that his name comes from. Legs also explains his SBK lore and inspirations a bit here [timestamped] in his guest interview on Fandive. In short, Eight's whole thing is that he's extremely meta.
On the subathon the recent bit has been (and is starting to bleed into canon lore, lol) that every time a subathon guest (primarily Bec so far, but also Peeporp) has taken control of the computer on SBK they are piloting Eight and subjecting him to nonsense. Or that the subathon goals/etc that affect in-game stuff (destroying SBK elytras, making Leg's Minecraft skin bald[er], etc etc) are effecting him. And Eight's fully aware of it and is becoming increasingly distressed/exhausted about it. And then it became a further bit that Eight is in control of the playlist (particularly playing the clown music) and Eight is responsible for any technical difficulties on stream because he's fed up with it all.
I draw him as a glitchy little guy cause I think it's fun and a useful way to distinguish him from my cc!Legs design! Also he has a little bit of an association with glitchy stuff from Leg's SBK editing. The funky left eye isn't canon, it's just a design choice of mine as a nod to Leg's characters often having something up with their left eyes. But yeah :D Eight's just a little guy who has access to the script and is having A Time.
the Vision this time is a "homeless danny in gotham" au except its pre-robin Batman again because im on a batdad kick.
--------------------
Danny finds a car.
Which-- isn't, like, anything super interesting or impressive. It's Gotham, it's a big city. There's cars on every corner, can't throw a stick without hitting one somewhere. And then setting off the alarm.
But-! It's a car, and it's past midnight-- or he thinks it might be past midnight, it's late enough to be. He doesn't have a watch and he left his phone at Vlad's; asshole put a tracker on it after the last time Danny ran off.
It's been over a month since, it's a new record -- last time it took just over two weeks for Vlad to find him and drag him back to the mansion. This time, Danny ran further. Left the state and everything. See how long it takes Vlad to find him now, hah.
People go missing all the time in Gotham.
Anyways-- there's a car, and it's midnight, and it's parked in an alleyway. Danny would've called it invisible with the way he pretty much trips over it, phasing through the wall of the building beside it and not watching where he's going, but it's not. So he doesn't.
Danny runs into the hood and nearly faceplants right into the darn thing with an 'oomph', hands catching himself on the metal as a flash of irritation flashes hot through his gut. It doesn't hurt or anything, but getting the wind knocked out of you sucks always, and he's tired and hungry, and as a result not in the best state of mind.
He's just about to sink his foot into the side of the wheel -- it wouldn't do anything, he's not that big of an asshole, but it's the principle -- when he stops.
Danny pauses.
He takes a step back, holding his hands out 'n' everything, and examines the car. He squints, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, considering the closest streetlight is twenty feet that way and positioned in a way that none of the light is hitting it.
Danny would not call himself a car guy. He doesn't think he counts, considering his size and lack of everything. But, but, he knows his way around a few cars, and he had an old obsession with older models when he was little that kinda petered out of existence after his accident. Had a bunch of little car models sitting on one of his shelves back in Amity, and Dad offered to get his hands on an old car for the two of them to fix up together so it'd be ready for Danny when he got his license.
...Anyways.
Point is: Danny can appreciate an old car, and this car has an older -- albeit obviously modified, if the matte paneling and plated wheels meant anything -- look to it. That kind of flat top went out of style years ago, and it's got this kinda rectangular look Danny doesn't see often these days on modern cars.
Other than the electrical cars, but he doesn't think those count. That's boxy, not rectangular.
Danny frowns, tilts his hands down, and leans back further as if that will let him get a better look at this thing. "...What model is this?" He mutters, it's hard to tell in this lighting.
Wait, he should see if there's anyone in the car. It's not running or anything, and nobody's come out to yell at him -- or shoot him -- but, still. People are crazy in Gotham, crazier than they've ever been in Amity. The last thing he needs to do is piss off some guy from the mob.
Danny peers into the window and-- there's no window, okay. Well, no window, and no driver. Some idiot left their car unprotected and without windows, in Gotham?
He pulls on the door handle just to be annoying -- it doesn't budge. Okay, maybe not that stupid. Especially since Danny didn't even see it until he was quite literally running into it.
So. Not that stupid.
Danny looks around warily, pulling his hoodie around him tighter, and then starts circling the car slowly. Like a vulture. No license plate; shocker. Hear how shocked he is? Clutching his pearls right now.
"Reinforced bumper. Cool." he says, er- whispers, really, quiet enough that it doesn't even echo. Danny squats in front of the car and runs his hands over the -- what, should he even call this a bumper? It's bigger than his head, and it's covering the grille. He picks at these... things on the side that remind him of leather straps. Probably to keep this bumper up? Like a ratchet strap?
Danny leans back until his butt hits the ground and he can sit back properly, propping himself up on his hands -- maybe not a good idea. There's probably broken glass somewhere here and he doesn't wanna pick shards out of his palms, again. It's like popping the world's most annoying zit depending on if it gets under the skin.
(He could always just phase them out, but the picking gives him something to do. It doesn't hurt that much.)
Eh. It'll be fine.
With one knee propped up, Danny looks the front up and down, and furrows his brows. The style kinda reminds him of a dodger, especially with the placement and style of the headlights. He plants his hands on the concrete -- hissing when he feels something cut into his palms, ow, there's that glass he was talking about -- and leans down to look under the car.
Hm, nothing jutting out that much. Looks pretty normal. Good space between the bottom and the ground.
He gets up and circles the side again, brushing whatever pebbles or glass that could've stuck into his skin off. He's really curious about where the owner got matte plating for it, or if it's just a wrap. The silhouette's definitely sixties or seventies; too angular for the eighties and fifties.
...There's no one here, Danny looks around again just to make sure, cranes his ears to catch anything. Nope, just the typical quiet rumbling of Gotham's underbelly. It kinda reminds him of Amity, or-- no. No, it reminds him of the quiet groan of the Zone.
That's far more comforting, he thinks. Danny's never really liked Amity all that much.
Back to the car: there's no one around, so Danny folds his arms against the side of the door and sticks his head inside the window. No keys in the ignition, should've figured.
Not like Danny was planning on stealing the car anyways -- anyone capable of modifying a car into this kinda beast -- or paying someone to modify -- was not someone he wanted to piss off. Danny's an orphan, not stupid.
Ignore the fact that he's got his head stuck through the window. The interior isn't anything interesting, but the seats are made of leather, which is nice. Must be a pain in the summer or winter, but leather is cool, and gets stains out better than cloth.
No stick shift though, he's a little disappointed.
Danny presses his mouth into a line and then slants it, humming in the back of his throat. Honestly, he's kinda tempted to crawl in and go to sleep. The leather seats look really inviting, and he's been sleeping on the ground or on park benches for weeks, and the car is really well hidden. No need to worry about being kidnapped.
But, it still belongs to someone. And they're probably using it for something shady. They'll come back for it eventually, so he should get this gawking over with anyways.
And, and-- and. He wants to get a look at that fucking engine. 'Cause holy shit!
Danny pulls his head out of the window and half-dances over to the back, his hand curling around one of the bars as a grin spreads across his face. Now, Danny hates Christmas, but this, this is like it came early and good for once.
"You could smuggle moonshine with this thing," Danny says to himself, grinning ear to ear and running his hands over the edge of the metal. The car is too conspicuous for backroads driving, but the engine, wow. What a thing of beauty.
One of Auntie's friends would probably know what engine it is -- or what type of engine it's based off of, it could very well be a bunch of different engines frankenstein'd together. Danny doesn't recognize it.
Which means it could be illegal. Again, what a shocker. In Gotham? He's clutching his pearls.
Fully satisfied with himself, Danny dances around to the front again and holds his hands out. He makes an 'L' with both hands and shuts one eye, getting the car within the frame of his fingers like he's about to take a picture.
"I rate you," Danny makes a camera shutter sound and mimics taking a photo, "one cool fuckin' car."
"Thank you."
Danny doesn't scream. He does not. He's taught himself better since ghosts started popping up in Amity, and honestly he deserves some credit for that considering they only started popping up over half a year ago.
He does, however, gasp. And he gasps hard, the type that has a high chance of giving you the hiccups afterwards; the painful, chest-thumping kind. Danny slams both hands over his mouth and stumbles backwards, eyes wide and his heart kicking into the fifth gear in his ears.
Bleeding out from the shadows is a man entirely drenched in black, Danny can hardly make out his silhouette and barely catches the white glints of his eyes. Fear like a prey animal burns in his lungs, wild and rabid, Danny has half a mind to bolt.
His ghost sense didn't go off, which might just be the most terrifying thing.
The man doesn't move any more than a step, just enough that Danny can barely see him, but he can feel him watching him. Shit. Shit. He should've never stuck around.
His hands are still over his mouth, Danny, shaking, flutters them open, "How-- h-- how--" he wheezes, "how long have you been standing there?"
