DPXDC Prompt# 6- Net Gain

All Seeing

DpxDc

Bruce Wayne had been many things in his life: billionaire, businessman, vigilante, father. But a long-lost uncle? That was a new one.

The SOS from a small town in Illinois had sent him racing against time, but he had been too late. An accident had taken the lives of an unknown distant cousin and their entire family—except for one. The sole survivor was a boy named Danny, left blind from the incident. When Bruce had arrived, he saw no other option but to take him in, to give him the support he needed.

Months passed, and Danny quickly found a place within the Wayne family. He was kind, gentle, and an overall bright presence in the manor. But grief had its way of clinging to people, and Danny was no exception. He had his sad days, times when he retreated into himself and let silence be his shield. Even so, the Batfamily took to him, each in their own way.

There was just one thing about him that none of them could ignore: he gives out cryptic warnings.

It had started small. He would mention the weather, and it would turn exactly as he said. He would casually hand someone an item—a band aid, an extra set of gloves, a lucky charm—and say, "Be careful." And without fail, later that day, they would end up needing it. It might have been coincidences at first, but the pattern grew undeniable.

Danny could see the future. Or, at least, something close to it.

The family, skeptics that they were, had tried to prove otherwise. They set up small tests, all of which Danny passed without even realizing he was being tested. Eventually, they stopped trying to disprove it and started trying to understand it instead. Bruce, being Bruce, documented everything. Tim, ever the investigator, compiled data. Damian remained skeptical but watched his cousin with a hawk’s eye.

Then Danny was kidnapped.

It had been a random act—a desperate group of criminals seeking to ransom Bruce Wayne’s newest ward. They had no idea what they had walked into. The moment Danny went missing, the Batfamily mobilized. It was Red Robin who found him first.

Tim had worked swiftly, dismantling the criminals with precision, tying them up before they even had a chance to process what was happening. He had moved quietly, intent on assessing Danny’s condition before alerting the others. But before he could even speak, Danny, bound and blindfolded, tilted his head slightly and murmured, "...Tim?"

Tim froze.

It wasn’t a confident statement; it was uncertain, questioning. But Danny, who should have had no way of knowing, knows.

Dp x dc prompt

Redhood didn't like people who took advantage of children. Fucking hated them.

So when he heard of a new crime lord employing children in there area, he had to put a bullet between that fucker's eyes. Apperently, the guy ran the original gang out of town and set the kids off on petty crime. Stealing money. Food, clothes, in some cases, even drugs.

Redhood stood outside an abandoned building, gun at the ready. There was no security, no goons. Did this guy know he was coming? Is this a trap? Redhood shook off his worries. No matter. He's just gotta get this bastard before it could get any worse.

He crept through raftors and boxes. He listened for footsteps. Step step step. The footsteps were heavy and dragging, sluggish. According to eye witnesses, the crime lord tended to drag his feet, maybe limp even.

Redhood slid out of hiding, pressed his gun up to the back of the man's head, and-

It was a kid. The kid turned around, so irely calm. His long black air hung down, obscuring his face, but Redhood could clearly see the way his pale sickly skin sank into his bones. How his dull blue eyes seamed to gloss over and stare into his soul. Almost daring him to pull the trigger. Yet, despite the dark of the warehouse, he almost seemed to glow.

"So?" He asked.

"Wha- so what?" Redhood asked. He was shaking. He hasn't put the gun down.

"Are you going to pull the trigger or not? I mean, you've got a clear shot. I just ask you to clean up after. The kids don't need to see that," The teen slowly blinked at him. Redhood slowly lowered the gun. Just a gang of kids run rampant, yeah. That's what this is.

The kid hummed and began to walk off. Redhood couldn't really call it walking or even limping. It looked more like dragging a nearly dead leg. Now that he was close, he could see it. The dragging leg, the dead arm in a sling. The lichtenberg scars crawled up his face, reaching his eye, blinded and half shut. How did this kid run a whole gang out of town?

Red Hood followed him. The kid only gave his a brief glance before shrugging. Redhood followed him to the back of the warehouse, where a group of kids slept. Redhood recognised them, street kids. All either homeless or too scared to go home.

"They helped me," the kid whispered, "I got rid of those people because I hated the way they hurt the people around them, and when I fell sick, those kids stepped up to help. The least I can do is give them a place to stay."

"You fell sick? You weren't always like this?"

"No. I used to be a lot stronger, braver," The kid gave a heavy sigh before slowly lowering himself to the ground. Crossing his legs and resting his head on his hand, "Now I can barely move without aching, I feel like an old man trapped in a teenager's body."

Redhood glanced between him and the sleeping kids. He was helping them, housing them. In return, they were stealing food and medicine for their sick friend, and Rehood almost shot him.

"My name is Danny, by the way," The kid- Danny grumbled.

Redhood sighed and sat down next to him, "Nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Redhood."

Constantine’s Kids

Meeting the uncle

Later: Danny hands Jason two small roundish disk shaped bloody bones. Jason knows exactly what they are. Jason: "Who did these come from?" Danny: smiles, turns on the news News: "Joker has been admitted to Gotham general due to having his kneecaps forcibly removed with a crow bar." Jason: feels equal parts pride and horror at his adopted son's behavior. "Let me get these framed for you to put on the wall." Later: Dick pops into the living room through the window, gets kneecapped by an invisible nephew he hasn't met yet. Danny: "Tell me who you are and why you are breaking in or I will take your knee caps." Dick: "A kid like you wouldn't steal knee caps." he says with a pained grin. Danny: points with the baseball bat to the frame on the wall. Dick: "My mistake." 'This answers one question I had and raises several others.'

Danny's rogues have been spreading a little misinformation.

In their defense, it was really funny.

They've been spreading the word via Ouija boards, seances, and any other attempt to speak with the dead that Phantom is the High King of Ghosts.

Except that position doesn't really exist.

Sure, they called Pariah Dark the King of Ghosts, but that was at his own request.

The Infinite Realms are vast, with many different cultures and lands, and there are a lot of Kings. It's not a special title, honestly, it's just the title used to delegate who, in a culture, has to put up with talking to the Observants.

So they decided to get the little shit back for stopping them from playing in the Living world. They're just tryna have fun!

And destroy stuff.

But destroying stuff is fun!

As is telling a shit ton of flesh puppet idiots that Phantom, that scrawny kid, is the "High King" of the Realms.

This resulted in him constantly getting summoned to cult summonings, running him ragged and giving them, his rogues, more time to play.

But uh.

Ember is starting to think they may have fucked up.

Because babypop just broke down into a sobbing, heaving panic attack at the sight of her.

She manages to get out of him that he hasn't slept in three days.

And like.

He's half living?

He's supposed to sleep more than that?

Yeah they fucked up.

Ugh.

She's gonna have to go talk to them, isn't she?

So that's how a meeting between Justice League and Justice League Dark gets interrupted by the ghost of a rock star, with a living teenager having one of the worst panic attacks any of them have seen in awhile cradled in her arms, asking Justice League Dark to invent an amulet that prevents Summonings.

Part 2: The Watchtower

Danny wasn’t technically a member of the Batfamily. But considering he had been crashing at one of their safehouses for the past couple of weeks and running night patrols with Robin, he was basically an honorary stray at this point. Which is how he ended up at the Watchtower when the Justice League was holding a debriefing.

Danny didn’t expect much to happen—until Superman walked in, took one look at him, and froze.

His eyes narrowed as he turned to Batman. “Bruce,” he said, voice laced with suspicion. “Is this the same one from the cleanup?”

Danny blinked. “Oh, cool, I get to be a ‘this one.’ That’s not ominous or anything.”

Superman ignored him, gaze locked onto Batman. “You know his heartbeat is wrong, right?”

That made Danny pause. He put a hand over his chest, mildly offended. “Uh, rude?”

“It’s not human,” Superman said firmly. “It’s close—but there’s something off about it. Bruce, tell me you did not just bring home an unknown meta without vetting him first.”

Batman, to his credit, didn’t even look up from his data pad. “I know what he is.”

Superman frowned. “And?”

Batman didn’t elaborate.

Danny grinned. “See, this is why I love working with Bats. So good at keeping a secret.”

Superman wasn’t amused. “What are you?”

Danny tilted his head. “A guy who really likes pancakes.”

“Not what I meant.”

“Wow, rude again.”

Superman’s frown deepened. Danny could practically feel the suspicion rolling off him.

The kid’s heartbeat wasn’t human. That was odd enough. But something about it nagged at him—because it wasn’t just different. It was familiar. He couldn't place it exactly, but it reminded him of something. Kryptonian? No, that was impossible. …Right?

Superman listened closer, trying to pick apart what exactly was off about it, but the more he focused, the more the suspicion dug in. His mind whirred, running through possibilities. Half-Kryptonian? A clone? A hybrid of some kind? The lack of information was driving him insane.

By the time they left the Watchtower, Superman was still staring at Danny like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. 

Then Danny, ever the dramatic little menace, casually floated up into the air like it was nothing.

Superman stared.

Danny caught his expression, grinned, and gave him a mock salute. “Later, Big Blue.” And then he shot into the sky, disappearing into the vastness of space like it was just another Tuesday.

Superman turned to Batman, expression unreadable. “Bruce.”

Batman didn’t look up. “Clark.”

Superman pointed at where Danny had disappeared. “He flew.”

“Yes.”

“Without a jetpack. Or wings.”

“Yes.”

Superman folded his arms. “You cannot tell me that didn’t look Kryptonian to you.”

Batman smirked, finally glancing his way. “I collect strays, Clark. That doesn’t mean I always explain them.”

Superman huffed.

That kid, no Bruce said his name was Phantom, is definitely Kryptonian.

And Clark was going to prove it.

----------------------------------------------------

2.5: Danny vs. Superman (on Behalf of Kon)

A couple of weeks later, Danny met Young Justice. And by met, he meant he immediately took interest in Kon-El—aka Superboy, aka Superman’s clone—because, well. Having a clone of yourself was a whole mess of weird, and Danny had some very strong opinions about it.

At first, this whole thing had just been funny. Messing with Superman? Hilarious. Letting him think he was Kryptonian? Comedy gold.

But now? Now it was personal.

Because the more he learned about Kon, the more pissed off he got.

Superman didn’t even acknowledge him? Treated him like he wasn’t worth his time? Oh, hell no. Danny knew what that was like—the existential crisis, the what even am I spiral, the feeling of being ignored by someone who should have given a damn. But Danny had figured it out. And Ellie—his own clone, his little sister—was one of the best things to ever happen to him.

Superman didn’t get to just pretend Kon didn’t exist.

So yeah. Maybe Danny had started this whole thing as a joke.

But now?

Now he was going to teach Kon Kryptonian. And they definitely weren’t telling Superman.

Masterpost

I have some older art tips that I keep forgetting to post here. I'll add a few in the next few days, at least those that aren't too outdated!

This one is about giving an extra feel of weight to your characters.

Dpxdc idea "Lost Fenton Protocol"

The Lost Fenton Protocol is a set of rules and procedures set in place for when, not if one of the Fenton children goes missing while out in a different city on a field trip.

It started when Jasmine Fenton, at the age of 9, got lost in Gotham and somehow found herself in Arkham Asylum having a deep conversation with Harley Quinn about the nuances of childhood developmental psychology. It is still unclear how she got inside. The only thing known for sure is that Harley Quinn, in the process of sneaking in to break out The Joker, found her roaming the halls and became distracted.

This was not the first time a Fenton was lost. However, it was the catalyst that prompted the creation of Lost Fenton Protocol.

having fun with formal wear >>>

Under ordinary circumstances, Danny wouldn't have resorted to throwing punches first ask questions later. But he was on the run and he was tired so when the hero sneaks up on him, he swings. Now he is on the run, tired, and has a concussed hero to take care of.