Batfam And Danny, Master Post

A story based on the parallels between Superman and Phantom’s secret identity and why it works so well: no one assumes they have a secret identity in the first place.

When writing always remember… a character flaw is only a flaw until becomes useful. 

Is your protagonist manipulative? Well that’s awful… until they manipulate the antagonist into making a decision that saves the lives of their friends. 

Is your protagonist a skeptic? Well that’s not good… until someone tries to lie to them. 

Is your protagonist overprotective? That sucks… until someone they love is in danger. 

Is your protagonist remorseless? Well that makes them pretty unlikeable… until a hard decision has to be made. 

Rocking with the Joker

It was a dark day in Gotham. The dark clouds and heavy rain weren't a new sight for its residents. Some would say it's the city's natural state.

Heavy rain accompanied by thunder usually muffled the cries of people with knives or bullets in their abdomen from a deal gone wrong. At the same time, it was a comfort to Gothamites.

Rain showed the best and worst of the world's crime center. The muffled sounds made finding sleep in the city easier. It made its people more receptive to helping one another. Rain, Darkness, Shadows.

Those were the playgrounds for the very protectors of this city.

It was the very thing that frustrated Oracle at the moment. Looking through wet lens into the alleys and abandoned sites like her life depended on it.

Maybe it did. Switching to being the lady in the chair surely wasn't a seamless but she did a damn good job, if the numerous voices in her ear didn't remind her enough. But she couldn't help her frustration. Even if they didn't speak often, they shared a look. A silent promise to get back at their assailant for what he's done.

A week ago, rogues used the same playground to break out of Arkham. The Joker was out there. Somewhere.

And Jason was silent. It's been slowly eating at her as they caught more rogues. Tim and Dick reported back that they've 'contact'. Whatever they wanted to call it. She hated the 10-foot pole between him and the other bats. She knew he hated it too.

A week since the Joker escape, and his pit rage hasn't died down since.

Her mind stopped wandering as she heard the GCPD. Reported sightings of the pale green gas inside an indoor concert hall, the feint laughter in the background growing louder by the second. With a practiced deftness, she located where the officer's coordinates were and reported to the bats... Right near Crime Alley. "Does anybody have eyes on Red Hood?" Nobody responded for 1...3...5 seconds. She knew well enough that one of the first casualties when Hood was like this was his helmet , and she assumed right when she got in to see the blurry camera that glitched with static occasionally. Right at the doors of the venue. She could make out people crumbling to their knees, desperately making their way for exits before succumbing to the drug. The haunting laughter ringing out from crying faces with grins too large. "I NEED ETAS! STAT!" "I'm 5 minutes away!" Tim responded as he grappled from rooftops. "I'm there in 3!" Dick was hoofing it as she focused on Red Hood. She opened her mouth, and her stomach dropped. Static graced her ears as it came in, but she was sure she heard correctly. "I'm going in." "Hood, just hold on." She knew better than hoping he'd listen. She checked the clear camera. At least, he had his rebreather on. "Hood is making contact. Hurry!"

"On it!" The chorus of voices and affirmative "Hm!" brought the comfort of the rain back to her. He's not alone in this, and neither is she. ---- The corners of his eyes tinged with green as he felt the pits simmer to life. He had to act fast. He had the officers on-site help him and his boys move the people nearest to the exits away before he turned back to the venue and collapsed forms inside. He could barely make out what the others were saying, but he knew well enough that the venue could comfortably fit 1,000 people. Far too many for him and 20 odd cops to handle.

He could still remember Bella, the rock star in the making, nerded out when a meta from the out of the city announced a surprise performance for the end of her tour. What was her name again? He followed the sounds of gunfire the further he got in until he made it to the open double doors. There weren't any bullet holes through the wall and door frame, so he made his way in. His heart was in his chest as he laid his eyes on the room surrounded in green. Lazarus green.

Jason had to keep reminding himself, freak out later, there's a job to do. Freak out later; there's a job to do. FREAK OUT LATE-! Green paved its way through his sight.

But the pits we're of afraid of it. Should he be? He needed something, anything to ground himself. So he touched the freaky thing. The green at the encompassing his vision vanished. Like oil to water, whatever he felt now wasn't the pits. It was like taking a dip into a pool. Cold enough to make you flinch, but it warms to his touch. He didn't notice he was dragging his hand along it until a guy's voice rang out over the mental and physical gunfire. "EMBER!" He took off a purple guitar with teal flame details and tossed it over.

The guitar straps fitted on her like a glove. "I GOT IT, B! LET'S KNOCK THEIR SOCKS OFF!" Jason didn't realize he was holding his breath until he exhaled in relief. Not noticing the band members' attention snapping to him as he finally caught sight of the joker. He gave the room a once over. The room with cheering fans as the band members were still being fired on. "THIS IS EMBER AND THE BUSTAS-" The three other members responded,"-AND WE'RE HERE TO BUST YA BALLS!" What. The. Fuck.

Fright Knight: Seize him!

Dan: Wait, wait, wait. Seize him? Did you really just say that?

Fright Knight: I-

Dan: We are up against THE Batman and you embarrassed me by shouting "seize him" as a battle cry? What is this the 1500s?

Danny: Actually, 1500s wouldn't be correct. See,Halloween can be traced back 2000 years ago in Celtic roots-

Dan: No one cares about the few fun facts you know, Danny.

Danny: Well excuse me for appreciating history!

Fright Knight: My Kings-

Dan: Appreciating history!? You failed your last history test!

Danny: test results aren't accurate representation of subject enjoyment! I'm sorry I don't find wars interesting! Maybe, I like learning about how cute humans are and where certains beliefs develop instead of always reading about battles where thousands perished!

Dan: Wars have a tendency of shaping human history! Usually for the worse but we need to study them as to not forget thier horror and learn from the mistakes commited that led up to them!

Danny: Oh you would know all about mistakes and horrors wouldn't you!

Dan: YOU'RE ADOPTED

Fight Knight: My Kings! Batman has broken though the first line of defense!

Danny: IM NOT ADOPTED! YOU'RE ADOPTED!

Fight Knight: Batman is getting closer! Oh gods, there are more of him! We're surrounded!

Dan: MOM FOUND YOU ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

Danny: DAD FOUND YOU IN THE DONATION BOX AT A CLOSED DOWN CLOWN FACTORY

Fight Knight: They took out our second and third defenses! NO, THEY GOT LAWRENCE.

Danny: YOU'RE MOTHER WEARS TOO MUCH MAKEUP

Dan: YOUR FATHER DRESSES LIKE THE STREET CORNERS ARE TOO EXPENSIVE

Fight Knight: The Robins! They're everywhere! What are they!? DO THEY NOT FEEL FEAR?!

Dan: YOUR SISTER-

Danny: *gasp* Don't bring Jazz into this.

Dan: You're right. I'm sorry, that was too far. Hey where did Fright Knight go?

Fright Knight: *Screaming as multiple costume wearing humans curb stomp him*

Danny: It looks he could not seize Batman

Dan: It's darn shame when that happens.

Bats don't know what to do as The Mockingbird and Time Mock them

That Edward Nygma wasn't a real person in the database or that the riddler actually got won one battle over Batman. Batman had tried to snoop through the apartment, but there was mostly always a person there alongside children.

Then there was a trigger of other rogues break out when there actually nobody in the apartment.

Not mentioning the real person behind riddler

Eddie Mockingbird Walker was born out of a 6 year affair between Edwin Walker, strict borderline insane Prisoner Warden, and beautiful red haired Judy Mockingbird, a former cleaning lady who was fired by the wife of Walker after finding out the affair.

Three years later, Judy Mockingbird was later a victim of a break-in and homicide, the only witness being a 3 year old traumatized Eddie hiding in a toy chest doodle with hand drawn puzzle murals, unfortunately that case was later put in the cold case files with not enough suspects.

Eddie was thrown through the wringer of several orphanages for 4 years, only to be refound by his grandmother Grethen Mockingbird, a former retired pianist who was unable to play anymore due a severe case of tendonitis.

A bright Prodigy to music and puzzles boxes made by his grandmother, a rare talent in school to the point the music teacher begged his grandmother Grethen to signed him in a tournament which later led to Eddie into the spotlight with the youngest pianist to make he audience weep with joy that catapult him all the way through several tournaments, winning each one, talkshows, interviews from age 9 to 22 year old.

He was known as Rose Thief of Hearts in the music community, the next living Beethoven they cried out, especially on how many ladies and guys fallen for his sweet, obvious charms and bright red hair that flow down his waist.

Becoming best friends with his half-sister, Madeline Walker, that he rarely met.

Tragedy struck when on The Chopin Competition, Gretchen Mockingbird died from cardiac arrest in the middle of her grandson's performance.

Eddie disappeared, being dragged off by Edwin Walker during the private funeral, which led many people to the theory of the whereabouts of the music Prodigy.

Then, the rest of the data file went missing until a year ago when Eddie Mockingbird appeared once more during a shocking news of adopting his niece and nephews who will stay anonymous after explaining a rather shocking tale with enough explanation on why he was away from media was extremely popular in the music culture.

Batman could only stare at the photo capture by Red Robin on the Batcomputer, tired bag eyed soft smiling Eddie Mockingbird at family diner. His black hair and eyebrow were gone, revealing a natural red hair that had grown down to his neck, wearing casual clothes with his niece, Jasmine Fenton, a teenage red-haired girl speaking with a soft look

A large massive man, named Jack Fenton that looks too alike to Bruce clumsily and failing feeding a little 2 year old baby girl in a toddler chocolates banana fudge ice cream with green bitd, while trying to stopping her twin brother flinging soft sweet peas at a giggling 5 year old toddler trying to air bite the peas.

A disgusted looking young entrepreneur who discoverered a much better energy source for phones that went world-wide, Tucker Foley, who was gagging at a Sam Manson, had a beyond burger and a salad, her middle finger pointing at him saying something to him.

Batman couldn't get near someone like him, or get a hint of his music albums that were also sold out even from 10 year ago to now with new albums that not even Jim Gordon would help him that Riddler is the famous pianist that he had a collection of his music, and he wouldn't let him 'borrow' them.

Jason had just started dating Jasmine, but he wouldn't tell them about what the riddler's plans were to the point of disconnecting and disabling all the trackers on his phones, even the backup ones with Cass and Babs!

He tried booking for Mockingbird concerts only to find out they were all booked to 20XX for the past 6 months after The Chopin Competition, not even attempting bribes, would shorten a 15 mile long waiting list.

This was driving Bruce a little mad as if time itself was mocking him!!

Part 3 here <-

If Lois Lane had a nickle for every time she had to help an overpowered boy from the midwest with the power of journalism, she'd have two nickles. Which isn't a lot but its weird that its happened twice.

Danny watched as Lois pulled out her phone and pulled up a recording app.

“What are you doing?”

“You came to a journalist and are surprised to get an interview?” She asked him, her tone clearly joking. “What you’ve given me here is great kid, but newspaper clippings and copies of federal laws don’t get the public’s attention. I need a story, Phantom’s the story.”

“I’m not Phantom.”

Lois looked at him, less than impressed. Slowly, she turned the screen of her computer until it was visible to both of them. There, in full clarity, was a front-page story from his hometown newspaper. ‘Danny Phantom saves Bus Full of Children!’ and there was a picture of him in his ghost form, his face crystal clear on her screen.

"Phantom’s a ghost. I’m just a dumb kid.” Danny tried again.

Lois pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand and muttered to herself.

“Why do all you midwestern boys have the same schtick?”

“I’m sorry?” Danny said, unsure if he should be apologizing or not.

“Changing your last name from Fenton to Phantom does not a secret identity make kid. It might work for most civilians, but anyone familiar with the hero game will clock you from a mile away.”

“I’m not Phantom.”

“Sure, kid. But I’m sure you have a way for me to interview him, right? Because I want to talk to him before I do anything else about your town.”

Danny hugged himself and looked down at his knees.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Not the worst I’ve seen. Wonder Woman’s is paper thin. I'm pretty sure most people in DC know who she is outside of the cape and just don’t say anything because she scares them.”

Danny snorted involuntarily at that, looking back up at the woman.

“What’s going on in your town, Phantom? Why come to a journalist and not the Justice League?”

“The Anti-Ecto Acts got passed like a year ago. They state that only being that produces or contains ectoplasm above a certain amount is considered non-sapient and is to be turned over to the government for disposal.” Danny said. “I put the whole thing in there for you to read, but it's long. Amity Park has a lot of ectoplasm in it. It's seeped into the air and water. Normal human people have it in them now. At first, those agents were just firing at me whenever I finished a ghost fight. I could deal with that. Their aim is terrible anyway. But then they figured out that humans can become contaminated with ectoplasm. They decided that meant the entire town was under their jurisdiction. They've decided that means that no one in town counts as human anymore, that we don’t have rights, that they’re doing us a favor by not just exterminating the entire town like the law says.”

Danny leaned forward, putting his hands on the desk in front of Lois Lane. He looked right into her bright eyes and spoke seriously.

“When it was just ghosts under attack, I didn’t think anyone would care. I’ve tried calling the Justice League for help, but they’ve brushed me off. People need to know what’s happening. Anyone can become ecto-contaminated. You just have to be in the right place at the wrong time. It’s not right what’s happening to Amity, Miss Lane. I came to you because if anyone could get the world to listen, to believe, then it's got to be you.”

And Lois Lane smiled. It was a proud, eager smile. The kind of smile Danny had seen on Sam right after she convinced the school to serve a vegan lunch. He barely held back from shivering.

“Well then, Mr. Phantom.” Lois said, before tapping onto the recording app on her phone and starting a recording. “Let’s begin.”

redrew another old print, this time we're goin ghost

who is this divaaa

Daniel Jones and the Lost Artifact

dcxdp fic idea

Danny was running errands. It was his own fault really. He had made the decree keeping Ghosts in the Zone or Amity. He was the one that forbade them going anywhere else-least they cross paths with Hero or villain or Vigilante and get ~ideas~.

Just because it was the preferred option didn't mean he had to like it.

But who else would he send? Box Ghost? Skulker? no thank you.

Regardless, Ghosts were forbidden from going into the living world. But that didn't extend to their possessions and artifacts.

And fuck did the Ghost Zone accumulate a lot of shit over time.

Which even if only .01% of it found its way to Earth-that was still a lot of stuff.

Like Pandora's tablet. A ghost memo of the last day of Pompeii.

It had fallen through a natural portal and was somewhere on Earth.

Thankfully ghost artifacts were drawn to their 'living' counterparts. Which narrowed down the search-though, as Danny was learning- that definition could be incredibly broad, especially when their living counterpart was lost to time or a concept. (sometimes it was a living descendant of the original owner. sometimes it was a Costco at 3am, sometimes it was a random kindergartener who really vibed with clay figurines)

Danny had already ruled out Pompeii and the British History museum (a place he'd rescued to many artifacts from already)

Which left the Smithsonian in D.C next on his list (he was following Percy Jackson logic here ok? D.C was the 21st centuries Rome, so it made some kind of sense that the Tablet would be here. No, this wasn't just an excuse to see the Air and Space Museum Sam. Fuck off).

He'd been doing this long enough that he even had an Indiana Jones esk identity that allowed him access to archives and special collections around the world (he replaced the ghostifact with a living copy where possible or staged a robbery where not) (he had written so many papers for this cover)(it was unbearable).

So it was a matter of an email to get himself an open invite to the Natural History Museums subfloors. and then just flashing his ID once he was there to get in, he'd been there enough over the years that it was more of a formality than anything else, but he understood the caution and never complained. Just followed security down the elevator and down a few hallways until he found the right department and waved them off.

He meets up with his contact, a Diana Prince, and they start exchanging pleasantries and what not. Danny walks by someone working on a translation of what they thought was a variation of The Odyssey but were having trouble making sense of whatever regional dialect it had been transcribed in. Danny looks over their shoulder out of curiosity and starts live translating the piece. Turns out it was a self insert version written by a school aged child. And they were having trouble reading it because of the usage of slang and spelling mistakes.

Danny's easy translation piques Diana's interest, for even she had had difficulty reading the artifact and it was written in her first language! While she's not as paranoid as a certain other member of the Justice League, she wouldn't have survived this long if she didn't do basic checking up on people. And maybe he really was just a professor from the midwest, maybe he was a god testing her, maybe he was also someone from the old world, stuck here, out of place and out of time.

Which is why his particular interest in their newly discovered artifacts had her accompanying him long after she would typically have left him too it. Excusing herself only for a moment so as to send the man's information along to Gotham with an ask to verify his education. They would be able to get back to her far sooner than anyone else. Because the longer she was in his presence the more she noticed, and the greater her suspicions became. He was too comfortable. His often handed remarks to specific. His muttered comments belaying knowledge even a researcher of his caliber shouldn't just know. It spoke of an intimacy she hadn't felt since she first entered the world of man all those years ago. It made her ache for her sisters. For her people. For a life she would never again be able to have.

Who was Dr. Daniel Jones? (she hoped he was like her)

Floating in the night sky