HOT TAKE
But I like the idea of the phantom world being reincarnated into very unexpected people.
Like I still love the idea of Danny being Martha or Thomas.
Or Dani being another clone, or her being Damian, and Sam being Poison Ivy and or Martha, etc.
But I also like the unhinged nonsense of Sam being a clone in the dc world — ideally Kon, and Dani (or Dan) being Bruce, while Vlad is gasp Thomas Wayne.
HEAR ME OUT
JUST HEAR ME OUT
I just think the idea of Danny finding out that in an alternate world he married a nicer and age appropriate Vlad and had the son the guy has been demanding for so long in their world is hilarious.
The absolute mental breakdown that boy will go through: this is my son, and I love him, look at him go being a hero and kicking ass, but holy fucking Ancients above I fucked VLAD —
And on the other hand, can you imagine Bruce’s reaction? To his alternate mom being a sassy teenage boy, his alternate dad being an older guy ‘preying’ on this kid that absolutely HATES the guy, and being an absolute creep while his alt self **gestures to your choosing** is either a tiny girl menace or the biggest and meanest growling ghost that is BARELY tolerating being in the same space as the living.
But they also hate his alternate dad and would punch him into next week with Mom! Danny.
This man will being going THROUGH IT.
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Found this old snippet and don't really remember of the context for it outside of being a joking exploration of how weird the Fenton/Phantom family tree would seem to outsiders (not even getting into how relationships might be classified differently between the human side & the ghost side)
Anyway gonna drop it here as a prompt lol
Mind the quick reference to dismemberment, there's no gore or detailed description and no one is actually hurt, it's more there for comedic effect, but still wanted to give the heads up on it 👍
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Nomad motioned to the towering, vaguely vampire-looking buff dude with literal flaming hair what the fuck, “Dan, this is everyone. Everyone this is Dan. He’s my…” Nomad trailed off and blinked, a look of confused befuddlement on her face as she let the sentence hang for too long.
“Huh…” She said considering, looking up at vampire-dude, Dan apparently, with a confused furrow on her brow. “You know this is the first time I’ve ever had to try and explain our relationship to each other and I’m drawing a blank and what exactly to call you. Uncle? Dad? Brother? Like, I think you could technically be considered all three.”
What the fuck did that mean??? Kon snapped his attention over to meet Tim’s masked gaze, the look of wild confusion Kon was sure was on his own face mirrored there. Around the meeting room confused and worried looks were being shared by the rest of the League. Which like, yeah, what in the Habsburgs was happening here for all of those terms to be applicable?
“Well, you’re Danny’s Mirror, so if you consider him your dad then it stands to reason I’m also your father.” Dan said, hand coming up to his - literally flaming, how did that work? - goatee thoughtfully.
“Yeah but like, I call Danny dad just to piss Vlad off.” Nomad countered, toying with her severed arm with her still attached hand. Kon didn’t think he’d ever get over how casual she was about being literally disarmed and just…not caring. “And I definitely don’t see you as a dad. Uncle?”
The giant of a ghost shook his head with a frown, “Implies that Danny and I are brothers, which could work but gives our relationship kind of a weird vibe. I feel more like his father than anything.”
“Gramps, then?”
“No.”
Nomad laughed, “Fair, wouldn’t want to take the title of Grampa away from CW. Besides we’re both half Vlad, so I think brother works best here.” She frowned, looking thoughtful, “Maybe half brother?”
Dan considered, “Half-brother could work. Though it gives Vlad more credit than he deserves.”
“Oh come on, can you imagine the look on his face if we went in together on suing him for child support?” Nomad asked, fanged grin wicked. Dan’s face lit up at the idea, and Kon felt like they were rapidly heading towards the two ghosts running off to go and go torment whoever this Vlad guy was rather then them help deal with the current demonic problem at hand.
“Can you please explain what any of that means?” Kon asked, more a squeak than anything else. He was starting to get a headache.
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prompt 24: "you owe me a kiss" ?
There's someone leaning on the table next to Kon.
Approaching from the bar, Tim can't see his face, but the too-casual-to-be-casual pose, the posturing, the flirty gestures... The way he's leaning down over Kon as Kon sits, saving the table for Tim to get back...
Tim's eyes narrow. Kon's a snack at any given time, to be sure (and especially tonight, in that tight-fitting top and tiny little skirt), but seriously? Hitting on him when Tim is right here?
"—flattered, but I'm here with someone," Kon says, smiling politely. "Have a nice night, though!"
"Aw, come on," the dude cajoles. Tim mentally rebrands him as That Fucking Guy. His disdain mounts. "Oldest line in the book, babe! I don't see anyone here with you. You sure you don't wanna—"
Maybe it's rude, but whatever. Tim intentionally shoves past That Fucking Guy a bit roughly. Frankly, he should count himself grateful Tim doesn't "accidentally" dump a beer all over him.
"Oops!" he says with venomously false cheer. "Didn't see you there. Here, angel, I got you your raspberry mojito."
He sets the glass down in front of Kon, slips his arm around his shoulders, and shamelessly leans down to kiss him. Overkill? Maybe, but it's viciously satisfying to shut That Fucking Guy down so dramatically. Serves him right for not taking the first no as an answer.
Besides, Kon is all Tim's. Hmph. Who does that guy even think he is?
When he draws back, Kon grins at him, eyes dancing. That Fucking Guy is staring awkwardly at them both.
"Told you I'm here with someone," Kon says, and tugs Tim down into his lap. He's about to say something polite to dismiss the guy, but Tim cuts in.
"He's mine," Tim informs him, staring daggers. He offers a smile that's all teeth. "Also, next time someone says 'no', you should maybe consider backing off. Just food for thought!"
"Jesus, okay, I get it, sorry," That Fucking Guy mutters, thoroughly ashamed. Tim watches with vindictive satisfaction as he turns tail and flees back towards the bar.
Kon hooks his chin over his shoulder, grinning. His cheeks are pink. "Ooh," he giggles. "I'm yours, Mister Drake? Am I all yours and only yours?"
Tim swivels to pin him with what he hopes is an unimpressed stare. He has a feeling he's off by several orders of magnitude. (Can't blame him when Kon's sitting here giggling so cutely while dressed like that, okay? Cute and hot at the same time is a deadly combination.)
"Yes," Tim says. "You are."
Kon's flush darkens, his cheeks visibly rosy even in the dimness. "...Yeah." He grins, buries his face in Tim's neck, and then giggles again. His nose bumps Tim's collarbone. "I love when you go full bitch mode at people," he teases; Tim can feel the curve of his smiling mouth against his neck. "Don't tell me you're jealous. You know you're my one and only."
"I know," Tim assures him. Something warm settles deep into his chest. He rubs his thumb over the fuzzy shaved hair at the base of Kon's head, and Kon hums. "It's not jealousy. I just think everyone else should know, too."
Kon laughs outright. Then he lifts his head, his eyes dancing as he meets Tim's gaze. His lipstick is slightly smudged, the glitter on his cheeks glimmering in the low light. "You owe me a kiss."
Tim raises an eyebrow. "I just gave you one." A pause. "Not that I'm opposed to more. But why do I owe you?"
"You left me to sit here all alone, guarding our table." Kon brushes his nose against Tim's. "You owe me for the trouble and heartache. You left me all alone on date night..."
"What, valiantly rescuing you from That Fucking Guy wasn't enough?" Tim asks. His hand curves along Kon's jaw.
Kon snorts. "You named him that in your head, didn't you?"
Tim wisely says nothing.
"He said his name was Bradley," Kon informs him.
"Angel," Tim says, cradling Kon's cheek in his palm. Kon leans into his touch, eyes closing in bliss. "I don't give a singular shit."
Kon lets out another peal of gorgeous laughter. "Yeah," he says, as Tim leans in. "I know."
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