Amity Park Got Turned Into An Island In A Fantasy Universe (Fantasy AU)

Ridiculous Dead Serious idea:

Danny is in some kinda competition that Damian is also in, and they’ve been sniping at each other back and forth throughout the whole thing.

Until one day Danny goes, “You want me so bad it makes you look stupid!”

And Damian stops. Considers. Interrogates himself and his motivations like a good detective. Has a facial journey as he goes through the five stages of grief.

Danny was expecting a snide comeback and now he is legitimately worried he’s somehow triggered the snooty rich kid. Trying to decide if he wants to apologize or awkwardly make his way out of the room to give him time to recover.

Damian sorta hates himself because… yeah, yeah he does. He is attracted to the bratty little fucker and has been… pulling pigtails? Antagonizing to remain in his thoughts and field of vision, to watch his face get red and his breath quicken, to make him lean aggressively into his space and growl at him???

Damian is horrified. How did he misjudge himself so badly? Is this how mother felt when she discovered that Father was a complete mess and only fell more in love?

“Uh, dude? Are you… okay?” Danny reaches hesitantly towards him but doesn’t quite touch.

“No,” Damian says, schooling his face into a bland mask. “In fact, I may need you to support me.”

Panic flits across his companion’s face. He rushes to his aid, ducking against his side. His arm wraps around Damian’s back and a hand settles on his waist. Too gullible.

Damian mourns his own good sense.

Ghost of a Chance

Gotham was not a city known for its kindness. Rain slicked the alleyways like a second skin, and shadows crept where sunlight dared not linger. Alfred Pennyworth had seen a great many things in this city. Muggers, monsters, and masked madmen were just part of the nightly routine. What he hadn't expected, however, was to be saved by a ghost.

Or something very much like one.

It was supposed to be a quick errand—a quiet evening walk to clear his head. But halfway down Burnside, three desperate men with more bravado than brains cornered him. Alfred had been ready to disarm the first and disable the second, but he never got the chance. A blur of white and black swooped in, accompanied by the distant, bone-deep hum of unnatural power. The muggers were down in seconds—one frozen to the wall, another knocked out cold, and the third suspended midair by a glowing hand that flickered green.

The boy was there and gone just as fast. Alfred barely had time to register the tattered hoodie, the hollow cheeks, the white hair and green eyes that didn’t seem quite human.

"Wait—!" Alfred had called, but the boy was already gone, melting into the shadows like smoke.

The encounter would’ve ended there—just another strange chapter in Gotham’s nightbook—if it hadn’t kept happening.

Twice more, the mysterious young man appeared. Once to stop a purse snatcher near the theater. Another time to drag a lost child out of a crumbling building during a fire. Always fast, always silent. Always gone before Alfred could properly speak to him.

And always too thin.

It was the kind of thin that spoke of long nights without food. Hollow cheeks, knobby elbows, a belt cinched too tight around jeans that barely stayed up. It reminded Alfred of the early days—of Dick, of Jason, of Tim, of Damian. Of boys who had learned to survive instead of live.

Alfred Pennyworth had a rule: no one went hungry on his watch.

And so began his campaign.

At first, it was subtle. A wrapped sandwich left behind after one of the ghost-boy’s heroic appearances. A thermos of hot tea left conveniently near a rooftop perch. A backpack, clean and durable, filled with protein bars and fresh socks. Most of it vanished, though Alfred never saw it happen.

Then came the note, scrawled in messy, tired handwriting:

“Thanks. You didn’t have to. I’m not sticking around though. It’s safer for you if I don’t.”

The next day, Alfred left a response tucked in the same spot:

“You are not a danger, young man. I’ve seen far worse, and fed far worse. If you insist on continuing your streak of rooftop chivalry, I insist you do so on a full stomach.”

He added a slice of quiche. It was gone by morning.

Bruce raised an eyebrow the first time he caught Alfred baking two loaves of banana bread instead of one. Tim said nothing when the supply order mysteriously included a half dozen extra protein shakes and thermal gloves in medium size. Damian made a snide comment—something about stray ghosts haunting the pantry—but Alfred didn’t dignify it with a reply.

Then came the night it changed.

A patrol gone wrong. Batman caught in a collapsing parking garage. The comms went dead. Nightwing was too far. Red Hood was tracking Penguin. The only one nearby—untraceable, unregistered, and undeniably powerful—was the boy Alfred had been feeding for weeks.

He left the beacon on the rooftop.

“Help him. Please. –A.P.”

Within minutes, Bruce stumbled through the Batcave entrance, soot-smudged and breathing, but alive. Behind him, almost hidden in the shadows, was the boy. White hair. Green eyes. Shivering slightly, but still on his feet.

“I didn’t do it for favors,” the boy said. His voice was hoarse, too young for his haunted face. “I just... couldn’t let him die.”

“I know,” Alfred said gently. “Which is precisely why the offer of dinner still stands.”

“…I shouldn’t.” But his eyes drifted toward the warm lights of the manor beyond the cave, toward the smell of fresh bread and something sweet baking in the oven.

“No one escapes me forever, dear boy,” Alfred said with a small smile. “Not even slippery ghosts.”

The boy stared at him for a long moment. Then finally, like a candle burning out, he sagged.

“…Okay. Just for tonight.”

“Of course,” Alfred said, already turning toward the kitchen. “We’ll start with soup.”

Behind him, the boy whispered a name like an afterthought—like something long buried finally being said aloud.

“Danny. My name’s Danny.”

“Well then, Master Danny,” Alfred said, with the same fondness he reserved for all his wayward sons, “welcome home.”

Fic prompt #7

Dpxdc

Danny Fenton is the biological father of Timothy Drake.

He had a one night stand with Janet the night before her wedding.

She didn’t tell nobody about it, nor she tried to confirm whatever Tim was Jake son or not, but after some years even without proofs she could see the resemblance.

Not wanting his husband to find out she convinced him to stay out of Gotham for work.

13 years old Tim Drake-Wayne find the diary of his mother and truth about his birth and decide to try searching for his biological father

DP X Marvel #24

When Danny Fenton got into MIT, he thought the biggest challenge would be balancing ghost hunting with college coursework. What he didn’t expect was to impress Dr. Jane Freaking Foster—renowned astrophysicist, literal genius, the mind behind the Foster Theory, and, unbeknownst to her, his idol since age thirteen—during a campus science expo when he presented his thesis on interdimensional ectoplasmic lattice fluctuations as a potential fuel source for wormhole stabilization. He thought she’d walk by his booth with a polite smile. Instead, she paused, squinted at his equations, asked three rapid-fire questions, then turned to the MIT faculty and said, “Is this kid legally allowed to work in a government lab yet?”

That’s how he became her apprentice.

Danny thought it would be, you know, an internship. Fetch coffee, carry papers, maybe input data if he got lucky. What he didn’t expect was to be living in New Mexico three months later, standing on a roof beside Jane Foster while she casually pointed at the sky and said, “If this gravitational anomaly maintains its trajectory, we’ll have a Yggdrasil branch brush up against the heliopause by Tuesday. That’s new.”

Danny nodded, mostly pretending he understood.

What neither of them anticipated was Thor crashing into their lives again like a golden retriever with a god complex and a hammer. He landed dramatically during a research presentation, lightning still fizzing off his cape, and made such eye contact with Jane that the projector screen behind them shorted out.

And then he saw Danny.

“Young one!” Thor bellowed, eyes wide, blond hair tousled by divine winds, “You must be her son.”

Danny blinked. “I—what?”

“Of course!” Thor clasped his shoulder. “You have her radiant intellect and tenacity. Truly, you are worthy of Midgard’s finest mother.”

“I—she’s not—” Danny tried.

Thor turned to Jane, face alight. “You did not tell me you had borne a child! And one so strong in spirit! A scholar of the stars!”

Jane rubbed her temples. “Thor. He’s nineteen. I met him last month. He’s my apprentice. He is not my son.”

Thor shook his head gravely. “Say no more, Jane. I understand. You wished to protect him from the dangers of our past. But I vow upon Mjolnir’s handle, I shall be a father to him.”

“What the hell,” Danny muttered.

Over the next few days, things escalated fast.

Danny woke up one morning to find a goat outside the lab. A live goat. Wearing a ribbon. The tag read: For my brave son, may his mornings be strong of milk and noble of beard. Jane nearly choked on her cereal. Darcy screamed and immediately named the goat “Spacey.”

Thor showed up during Danny’s lecture on cosmic radiation and brought a sack of Asgardian textbooks written in glowing runes, which promptly caused two lab interns to faint and one professor to file a complaint.

Danny begged Jane to tell him this would stop.

“No,” Jane said, sipping her coffee without looking up. “You’re his emotional support stepson now.”

“I don’t want to be anyone’s emotional support anything!” Danny cried. “I have ectoplasmic trauma and insomnia!”

But Thor persisted.

He invited Danny to spar in the desert, claiming it would “toughen his warrior instincts.” Danny blasted a crater in the sand when a ghost startled him mid-match, and Thor wept with pride. “Such fire! Truly, a son worthy of thunder.”

Jane sighed. “You’re going to give him a complex.”

“I already have a complex!” Danny yelled from where he was half-buried in sand.

Then came the night Thor pulled Danny aside with intense solemnity.

“Daniel,” he said, kneeling, “I seek your blessing.”

Danny froze, halfway through a sandwich. “I—what—blessing for what?”

“To court your mother.”

“She’s NOT my—!”

Thor raised a hand. “Please. I know you wish to protect her. But my heart is true. I have spent long hours learning Midgardian courtship. Observe.”

He pulled out a guitar. A guitar. From nowhere. And began strumming aggressively while singing off-key.

“Oh Jane, fairest in the stars, your eyes burn like a neutron quasaaaaaar—”

Danny screamed into his sandwich.

Jane screamed into her coffee.

Darcy recorded the entire thing.

By the time the Avengers got wind of what was happening, it was too late. Tony Stark showed up purely out of pettiness.

“So this is the ‘son,’ huh?” he said, looking Danny up and down like he was a new model of iPhone. “You do look like Jane. Same ‘don’t talk to me before coffee’ vibe. But with a sprinkle of sleep-deprived raccoon.”

Danny glared. “You must be the one Jane threatens to launch into orbit when she’s annoyed.”

“See? Family resemblance,” Tony muttered.

Then Steve Rogers took Thor aside and whispered, “Are you sure he’s her kid? Jane would’ve told us if she had a child.”

Thor nodded gravely. “It is the only explanation. He speaks with passion, has knowledge of the stars, and I saw him summon green fire from his hands!”

“It was a ghost, Thor,” Danny shouted from across the lab. “It was literally a ghost trying to possess a vending machine!”

“Exactly!” Thor beamed.

“Thor. I’m nineteen. Jane is thirty-seven.”

“She is a goddess among mortals. Perhaps she birthed you when she was five.”

“That’s not how—YOU KNOW WHAT, NEVER MIND.”

Soon, even Loki showed up, slinking into the lab with a smirk like a serpent in silk.

“I had to see for myself,” he purred, circling Danny like a shark. “The mortal child who ensnared my brother’s affections.”

Danny just blinked. “I’m not his kid. Or Jane’s. I’m not even sure I’m awake right now.”

Loki chuckled. “You’ll make an excellent prince. Do you have any interest in necromancy?”

“I’m a ghost half the time,” Danny deadpanned. “Define interest.”

Loki grinned wider.

Eventually, S.H.I.E.L.D. got involved. Fury showed up, took one look at the scene—the goat eating research notes, Thor trying to build Danny a golden throne, Jane yelling about radiation levels, and Danny levitating out of sheer stress—and muttered, “Nope,” before turning around and leaving.

But beneath all the chaos, Danny… didn’t hate it.

Jane never treated him like a kid. She taught him everything, from solar flares to Bifrost trajectories. She let him make mistakes, then helped him fix them. She told him he was brilliant, and for once, he kind of believed it. And Thor, for all his thunderous confusion, brought him starfruit from Alfheim and carved him a wooden Mjolnir as a “coming-of-age” gift.

Danny didn’t even mind the goat anymore.

He still insisted, every day, that Jane was not his mom.

But when Thor presented him with a massive, hand-forged broadsword inscribed with: To my noble son, may your ghosts be vanquished and your GPA ever high, he kind of teared up.

A little.

One evening, as they watched the stars from the roof, Jane handed Danny a cup of tea.

“He really does think you’re my kid,” she said.

Danny took a sip. “Yeah. I gave up trying to convince him.”

“Is it weird?”

“Kinda. But… not bad.” He hesitated. “Do you… mind?”

Jane looked at him, surprised. “No. I mean—you’re not. But if you were, I’d be proud.”

Danny stared at the stars until they blurred.

Later, Thor appeared beside them, cape fluttering dramatically despite the lack of wind.

“I have returned with tales of valor,” he declared, “and also cheesecake.”

Danny took the box.

“Son!” Thor beamed.

Danny sighed.

“Fine. You can have my blessing.”

Thor dropped Mjolnir in joy.

Jane looked horrified. “Danny, what the hell?!”

“I didn’t say I wanted it to happen,” Danny muttered. “I just figured he’d stop bringing me swords if I gave in.”

“He won’t,” she said flatly.

He didn’t.

The next morning, Danny woke up to find a full set of Asgardian armor beside his bed and a note that read: For my beloved heir. P.S. I have begun planning the wedding. Do you think your mother would prefer swans or flaming eels as decoration?

He screamed into his pillow.

The goat screamed with him.

It kept being stuck in my head how Mia just smiled knowingly at her Oppa, and I could only picture Anya (Spy x Family) and her "diplomatic" smile, so here is some rushed fanart~

God I love unconventional and crack pairings so much 🤣

You know what would be deadass funny. Jack Drake comes back from the dead and in “revenge” adopts either Jason as his kid, or Damian or both and Bruce and him have dad offs to who is a better father to their adopted children. They both fail at fatherhood in their own special ways. Anyway 50k slowburn jack/bruce, the robins all end up traumatized because they did not ask to be pulled into this bullshit.

You, every night.

Ancient of Space

Based off of this prompt from @theglamorousferal

After Amity Park was transported into space, new rules and divisions were established. Thanks to Danny, the area slowly began to expand, incorporating nearby asteroids and lost pieces of debris that could be drawn in and added to the field. Due to the change in environment—and the exposure to external energy and ectoplasm—the residents of Amity Park began to change. As they became more and more liminal, their ears started to become pointed, and their eyes began to glow.

Not to mention, thanks to frequent interactions with ghosts, most (if not all) of Amity Park now speaks the language of the dead. Lifespans also dramatically increased—what used to be 80 to 90 years now stretches to 200 to 250. And when someone passes away, they automatically become a ghost.

Most of the adults have already turned into ghosts—though not all. Some didn’t become liminal enough, or didn’t live long enough for the transformation to take place. All the students from Casper High are now adults in their early hundreds. They know lifespans have increased because Danny asked Clockwork directly, concerned about the effects that much ectoplasm might have on the human body.

Danny has fully embraced his title as the Ghost King. He even technically made Amity Park part of the Infinite Realms. A large portal now allows travel back and forth, and ghosts frequently pass through to fulfill their obsessions or interact with the living members of their kingdom. Likewise, Amity Park residents often venture into the Realms for various reasons. It’s safe for them, thanks to an inner residential zone Danny set up—an area not meant for living, but stable and protected enough to travel through and interact with the Realms.

Back on Earth, Amity Park has become a legend. All evidence of its existence disappeared along with Danny and the town.

But that’s not the focus right now.

The Young Justice team—Wonder Girl, Impulse, Superboy, and Red Robin—was aboard a spaceship returning from a mission when they detected an unusual energy signature coming from a previously unexplored section of space. No one knew why it was uncharted; as far as they knew, the Lanterns had already mapped every accessible region.

As they approached, they expected to find maybe a destroyed planet, a dead star, or some other anomaly. What they didn’t expect was a massive floating landmass, torn straight from the ground and left suspended in space, surrounded by meteors linked to it via domes.

Suddenly, a young woman approached the ship. She had flowing white hair, Lazarus-green eyes, and pale skin. Most striking of all, she floated through the vacuum of space without a suit—breathing seemed optional.

She hovered in front of the ship's window and blew a cold breath on it, fogging the glass. Then she wrote a message asking if she could come aboard. After a brief discussion, the team decided that the best way to get answers about this strange place was to speak to one of its residents. They nodded in agreement.

Without warning, the girl density-shifted through the glass and gently floated to the ground in front of them. She greeted them in a language they couldn’t understand. Realizing this, she paused, thought for a moment, then switched to English.

“Hello,” she said. “My name is Elly. Welcome to Amity. So… what brings you here?”

Impulse, true to his nature, zipped around excitedly before stopping in front of her. “Hello, Elly! It’s great to meet you. I’m Impulse—this is Red Robin, that’s Wonder Girl, and over there is Superboy. We were flying back home and noticed this unexplored zone on our map. We got curious and came to check out the weird energy signal.”

Elly chuckled at Impulse’s boundless energy. She then offered to escort them to the main area of Amity. At first, the team hesitated, but Red Robin accepted the offer, recognizing it as an opportunity to gather valuable information.

They landed in the central district of Amity and exited the ship with caution. The first thing they noticed was the people: not too different from humans—at least, not most of them. But their glowing eyes and pointed ears gave away their altered nature.

Elly offered to give them a tour and answer any questions they had. The group accepted, unaware that the moment they entered Amity’s vicinity, all tracking and monitoring systems were disabled.

To the Justice League, it looked like all four of them had simply vanished.

(I would've made this longer but I lost motivation so I decided to finish it)

Bruce, grumbling: Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud…

i think the rest of the bats probably forget that Tim actually has a full time job. like an important one. they probably text him all the time like ‘wanna help me with this case’ and Tim’s like ‘can’t sorry I’m in Germany for the next 3 days’ and then all the kids are talking for the next week like ‘wow Tim’s probably in some deep shit with this international case he’s working. can’t imagine what he’s dealing with rn’ and then the week after Tim’s at the manor for dinner and Dick’s like ‘so tell us all the gory details of the case in Germany!’ and Tim just looks at him lost.

‘what case’

‘the reason you had to go undercover in Germany and couldn’t join me and Jason’s stakeout!’

‘i never said i was undercover’

‘why the fuck else would you go to Germany?’

‘business convention’

‘…’

‘…i had to give a seminar- you guys know im a CEO right?’

‘well BRUCE never had to travel when HE ran the company-‘

‘BECAUSE BRUCE WAS SHIT AT HIS JOB THATS WHY A SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD HAD TO TAKE OVER’

and Bruce is sat at the end of the table just slightly offended.

DpxDc #5

Everywhere but home.

The Anti-Ecto Acts applied only to North America.

The USA and Canada both permitted the capture, experimentation, and termination of ecto entities.

One night, after weeks of being constantly hunted down, Danny decided it was time to leave the continent.

At first, he was terrified. 

He didn’t even need false documentation, since the GIW wasn’t looking for his human identity, and Jazz helped him get everything he needed.

He… didn’t even have to buy a flight or something, since his speed could get him anywhere.

So, a bit anxiously, he traveled down to South America.

He had a pretty good time!

People were friendly and welcoming, excited to share the beauty they had with them and Danny found himself so much more interested in other cultures.

Being surrounded by languages, Spanish, Portuguese, and even some Indigenous ones became much easier to learn.

Traveling around wasn’t a problem, he often found people happy to take him in for a shower and a meal.

It wasn’t safe all the time, but it wasn’t because he was a ghost, which was somehow nicer.

With much less anxiety, he started to travel even more.

Africa was the obvious choice since it was the closest continent.

The main cities were rich with people and modern buildings, making him feel a bit out of place like he was in a cleaner version of Hollywood.

Going away from touristy sites, everything started to become more bare, the people still welcoming, but weary of noisy strangers. Wich was understandable, so next came Asia, then Europe, Australia, and Antarctica.

By the time Danny was in his twenties, he had pretty much visited almost every country on Earth. 

He was having fun, he really was, but in every new country he visited, he was reminded how much he wished he was waking up in his bed, spending the days with his family and friends.

Once, he met a guy in London, whose soul looked like Swiss cheese, that he helped with some ghost stuff. He was recognized as from America, so he explained what he was doing all the way in England. Apparently, the guy had connections with the Justice League and promised to help.

At several spots, he even met with Dani. Every time they saw each other, they remembered that, even if it was so diverse, the World was still very small.

He was in South Italy when his phone rang.

It wasn’t hard to keep in touch with his friends and family, sending them photos or even packages of stuff he found traveling.

He answered Jazz, as she started to cry happily about the Anti-Ecto Acts being revoked.

He… hadn’t actually believed Jonh.

His mind was blank, with her sister excitedly talking over the phone.

After five years.

He could go back home.