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mortiferumsomnum · 2 years

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Jason Todd’s Cooking: Ghost King Approved!

A continuation to THIS post!! EDIT: MASTERLIST

Jason wanted to punch Danny.

Don’t get him wrong! The kid’s a delight to be with! He’s compassionate, sassy, and a huge nerd on anything related to space. The daily hugs the kid had been giving him had also been curing him of his Lazarus Madness, allowing Jason to sleep at night without any bloodthirsty thoughts to ruin his night... morning... whatever.

But when you have dozens of ghosts lined up at your door at ass-o’clock in the morning, whispering of how they wanted to have a taste of your “Cooking the Ghost King Approves”, even you would want to punch the ghost-kid’s face. It didn’t matter if his coronation to Official King-hood is tomorrow.

He also looks like the Demon Brat, so his punchable-looking face enhanced!

They haven’t seen Jason yet, who was hiding behind some building and was still in his Red Hood gear. How did these ghosts even find out where his civilian self lived----- Dannyyyyyyyy. Of course these ghosts would keep tabs of where their Beloved Ghost King was frequenting. Fuck. He needs to get out of here.

How are these ghosts even going to eat Jason’s food anyways?! Can they?! He thought Danny was the only ghostly being capable of stomaching food from the living realm!!!

The ghosts looked really weird too. Unlike Danny, who looked a bit more alive what with his skin color becoming like Damian’s when in his Ghost Form, these ghosts are either blue or green. Some had human forms, others looked like blobs.

Jason furrowed his brows under his mask. How the fuck is he even able to see these ghosts?! The only ghost he’s only able to see was Danny for these past few days! Did being with the Ghost King... enhance his ability to see ghosts?! Or were these ghosts just powerful enough to keep a form?

So many questions!! Tim and Bernard would have a field day trying to investigate this. He could already imagine all the whiteboard markers and whiteboards the two were going to invest in, throwing idea, theory and facts at each other until they’ve gotten The Whole Truth of the matter down to their satisfaction.

Yeahhhhhh, no. Nope. Not dealing with this anymore. Jason has recently began caring about his mental health now that he’s slowly been purified. He’s not going to let his progress flop with an encounter like this.

He was about to fuck off to one of his safe-houses when he heard a familiar voice.

“What in Ancients’ name are you all doing here?!”

It was Danny, floating above them with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. Tim and Bernard tried to explain to Jason what the ghostly glamour was doing to avoid him from recognizing Danny’s face, but Jason was busy relaxing in Danny’s purification hugs to listen to the two excitable puppies yip theories at him. But, if the glamour weren’t there, Jason could bet that the glare would look similar, if not identical, to Damian’s.

“Your Highness!” the ghosts greeted, bowing towards Danny before excitedly straightening up.

They all talked at the same time, trying to explain their reasoning. It was entertaining how the little blob ghosts cooed and did little flips in the air.

With one hand held up from Danny, they all shut up.

“I don’t want to know your reasons, nor do I want to know how you all found out about this place,” he said. The way the kid said it reminded him too much of Bruce when he’s about to ground the batkids (Jason included). Then, Danny pointed to the side, a portal open that was definitely made by Danny himself. “I want all of you back to the Ghost Zone in the next minute. Do not disturb this place again.”

All the ghosts deflated, the human-looking ones slouching and hunching their shoulders, as they all floated into the portal. They all mumbled their apologies as they did so. Once the final, sad blob ghost plopped itself into the swirling portal, Danny closed it and turned to Jason with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that, man,” he said.

Jason walked up to him with hands in his pockets, chuckling. “Must be tough running a kingdom, Your Highness.”

Danny groaned. “Please don’t call me that,” he whined.

“But Your Highness,” said Jason dramatically, because he’s a little shit like that, “I am but a mere commoner! I wouldn’t dare address you so informally!”

Danny snorted, punching playfully at Jason’s shoulder. “You’re an ass!”

Jason grinned. “Good.”

Then, as if remembering something, Danny brings out an envelope from one of his ghostly pockets and hands it to Jason. “Clockwork has a job for you,” he said. “But you can refuse if you don’t wanna do it. It’s a really tiring job, and you’d only be paid in ghost money, which isn’t even applicable in the mortal realm.”

Jason took the envelope, opened it, and looked over the cursive writing he imagined characters in Jane Austen’s books writing like. Well, almost like. The ink was in Neon Green.

“This Clock-y dude is...”

“He’s basically my advisor,” Danny said, not explaining more.

Jason hummed in response. Then, he shrugged.

“Tell Clock-y I’m not doing it, then,” he said, folding the letter and placing it back inside the envelope. “We’ll have our own feast here, with Timmy, Berny and your freaky friends. I’m not cooking for some stuffy, rich ghosts.”

Danny laughed. “I’ll tell Clockwork that,” he said with a grin. “I think he also wanted to taste your food.”

Jason huffed, waving a hand in the air. “If that’s all, I’m gonna head into my apartment and get some much needed sleep, thank you.”

Danny nodded towards him. “Sure,” he said, then he opened his arms. On instinct, Jason hugged Danny back. There was no purification happening, it was just a hug. And, damn, does this kid give good hugs. The Demon Brat should learn from him.

“Thanks,” Danny said when they pulled away.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason said, already walking to his home. “Get going kid.”

Danny chuckled.

Jason then heard the sound of a portal opening. The moment Jason unlocked his door, Danny had already left.

********

[Bonus Scene: Time with Tim!!!]

Tim wanted to punch Danny.

Now don’t get Tim wrong. He likes Danny. He doesn’t try to kill or maim him, he doesn’t insult him, and he even lets Tim hang out with him when he goes exploring to different parts of the Earth! Initially, it was to help him find his clone-sister that he hasn’t seen for 3 months because they ended up becoming a bit too competitive in their Global-Hide-and-Seek. After meeting Dani, the invitations to illegally visit other countries together became more and more. Bernard came with them sometimes. Heck, even Jason tagged along in some of them.

Where was Tim going with this again?

Oh yeah, punching Danny. Right.

You see... There was this baby ghost with a grandfather clock ticking in his chest and a clock in his staff floating in his apartment. And when the baby talked, he sounded like a grown man.

He called himself Clockwork. The Master of Time.

It’s only been 32 hours since he last slept. So, this definitely cannot be one of his sleep-deprived hallucinations.

And Danny mentioned a Clockwork once.... ohhhhhh.....

“Yes, oh.”

Now, Tim only knows Clockwork based on what Danny had told him. That he is a mentor and advisor, a friend and a parental figure. But, what Tim does not know is whether this... entity... wouldn’t attack him or see Tim as a threat.

So, you see why he wanted to punch him?? Tim shouldn’t be meeting ghosts while sleep-deprived, and now he’s meeting someone who may very well be a god.

And, well, this is Tim’s Fourth encounter with a ghost (his third encounter being with Cujo the ghost dog). Not all ghosts are going to be as friendly as Danny.

“I admire your alertness in this situation,” said the baby, and suddenly, the baby turned into an adult man. “But I come here in peace,” he continued. Now, he turned into an old man. “And I come here to ask for assistance.” He turned back into a baby.

Tim could only blink. He was still holding the papers to the latest cold case he was solving and he was swaying on his feet.

“Uhhhhh....”

“It involves the Ra’s Al Ghul,” he said.

Tim’s brain restarted. His whole body suddenly became very alert. The tiredness he was feeling was no longer there, and Tim had Clockwork’s full attention.

“What about him?” he asked.

Clockwork morphed into an adult, and then into an old man, stroking his beard as he waved his staff.

As if looking at a hologram, an image of Ra’s Al Ghul floated into the air. And, with a light tap, it was like watching a video start playing.

“Pathetic,” Ra’s spat.

The scene panned to Danny on the ground, heaving and crying as he clutched... Damian to his chest. Behind Danny, there laid familiar figures: himself, Jason, Dick and Bruce, and farther away was Danny’s friends that Tim had only seen in photos. Even without physically checking, Tim could tell that they were all... dead.

“Because of you, I have lost my heir,” said Ra’s. “My daughter had lost her dear son. And this world had lost some of the best heroes.”

“Shut up,” Danny growled. And that growl brought shivers down Tim’s spine.

“You call yourself a King? Well, I guess now you have gained more subjects to your pathetic little kingdom.”

“I said... Shut. UP!”

Tim watched with wide eyes as Ra’s was flown back. Then, as Ra’s back hit the wall, Tim watched as his soul was brought out of the old man’s body. Danny was there in front of Ra’s in an instant, clutching at his ghostly neck, and snarling with red eyes and skin turning from Damian’s lively brown to a ghostly blue pallor. Tim felt goosebumps forming on his arms.

Ra’s was writhing in Danny’s hold, clawing at Danny’s arms to try and get even an inch of oxygen. But Ra’s is a ghost in this vision of the future. He did not need to breathe. He needed to escape.

Ra’s form began to glow, and the old man began to scream.

Danny’s hold became tighter and tighter on Ra’s, not blinking for a second when the light turned blinding, causing Tim to close his eyes. Then, when he opened them, in Danny’s hand was... a glowing sphere.

“That is a core,” Clockwork said from behind him. Tim made no move to look towards him, only focusing on what Danny was going to do with it. “A core is what brings life to ghosts, as it is both their heart and their mind. Their soul. Their source of life. Without it, a ghost would not exist any longer.”

And just as Clockwork had finished explaining, Tim watched as Danny destroyed Ra’s core.

Danny then turned to look behind him. It was void of any emotion. So empty. It was back to its regular neon green, but it didn’t glow with life like the current Danny does.

One last look around, Danny snarled once more. He clenches his fists, and his eyes turned red. Then, Tim watched as Danny screamed to the sky, destroying everything around him.

The vision ended.

Tim had so many thoughts. So many questions.

“This future is not definite,” Clockwork says, and continuing as he turns into an adult, “and there are choices that can be made to avoid this.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Tim asked. “I’m thankful that you’re giving me a warning, something to investigate so that I could keep my family safe, but I have a feeling that this isn’t about my family at all. Neither was it about Ra’s, was it.”

“It is not,” said Clockwork, turning into an old man. Interestingly, this version of Clockwork reminded him of a grieving Alfred, whose eyes and expression made him look older and tired. “It is to avoid what Danny may become.”

What he may become.

Tim thinks of Bruce when he lost Jason. Bruce who became aggressive to the point he was close to killing himself. Bruce who needed a Robin to gain back the light in his eyes and become the Batman that the people of Gotham trusted to protect them.

However, unlike when he was young, he had experienced many things. Although it was him that Clockwork was showing this to, Tim knew that Tim wasn’t the only person that could help make a change to keep this future from happening. He wouldn’t have to take up the responsibility by himself.

Danny has people who would be by his side no matter what. Support him no matter the struggle. Perhaps it was because Tim learned all this that Clockwork was telling him.

And, yes. Clockwork seemed to know what Tim was thinking, because he gave him a grin, morphing into an adult. “It seems that my time here is up,” he said, opening a portal for himself. And without another word, Clockwork was gone.

#ayyyyy #dc x dp #dp x dc #jason todd #tim drake #danny fenton #danny phantom #this is a thank you for reading my other post!!#i hope you all like it!! uwu

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soyforramen · 4 years

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Reality Show

The room swam into view in front of her, black spots dancing on the outskirts of her vision. Blinking her eyes, Betty slowly came to the realization that she was bound to a chair when she couldn’t grip her pounding head. She retched as her sight went black again.

“Stop with the dramatics, Elizabeth,” a woman’s voice sighed behind her. “It’s only a little hemlock.”

Betty forced herself to sit up and squint against the moving black blobs that had taken up residence in her eyes. Dark red curtains, dusty from age; an old hardwood stage littered with scratches and stains; and a room full of silent figures in front of her, staring blankly at her.

“Where -“

Her words were garbled, muzzy and difficult to catch hold of. A flash of pain erupted at the back of her head and she tried to piece together what happened. It was near impossible, though, as none of her thoughts stayed still long enough to line them up.

(Something about cats in queues. Or was it tutus? Bald cats dress all in white, offering her a plate of hummus and nirvana, warning her against the dangers of keeping Oregon. Or was it Ontario?

(Ah. A concussion then. She’d heard about those once. Maybe twice. Or was it -)

The slap rang out around her and her vision flared into a Lead Zepplin light show, the ones Trev had always tried to get her to go to. Or was it more like the Fourth of July, where fireworks flared against the dead black sky to -

“Damnit, I told you to use only a touch of hemlock. What did you two incompetents do?” the woman snapped.

Flat, sluggish voices groveled with apologies until one sounded out above the rest. “We’re sorry, priestess, but she wouldn’t eat our food. We thought it was best to try alternative methods.”

“What did you do?”

“Light of the Moon used a few techniques from our previous life. We assured ourselves that it would leave no lasting damage, and from our expertise -“

“Just,” the woman took a deep breath, “go take your spot in the crowd.”

They shuffled off, cloth rustling around them and Betty remembered thinking she’d had a bad idea once. More than one, even. But why would that matter now? Something about fake brownies and a recipe book?

Betty was shoved back against the seat and she gagged at the sudden movement. A redheaded woman came into focus, freckles scattered across her cheeks like a dusting of cinnamon (“Purification, love, lust, but no more than two teaspoons…”), her eyebrows drawn together in frustration (“Lavender and chamomile to turn away the nightmares, demons won’t come near you when I’m around…”). Betty knew her from somewhere. This woman was important, but something about her was wrong. She had to remember, even with the shadows pressing pain into every nook of her head.

“Evie?”

Evelyn snorted at the nickname. “That’s Priestess to you.”

She held up a vial of foul smelling liquid to Betty’s lips (“Potions are the quickest to work, but don’t forget to take the vial with you when you leave…”). Betty parted her lips, the same as she did every night in childhood, and let the liquid fall down her throat without a fight. (“It’s awful, huh? But it’s the only way for the runes to take, Lizzie. I promised your mother…”)

(What was so important about Evelyn? It was vital she remember, but everything felt as if her insides had been replaced by clouds of cotton and nothing was real. All she could remember was Evie curling up around her and reading her bedtime stories when her mother was out; Evie doing Polly’s makeup for the initiation ceremony; Evie disappearing before Betty’s fourteenth birthday; Evie -)

“Happy Day! He is risen!” Evelyn said, throwing her hands in the air. A chorus of voices repeated her words back at her, the noise echoing around the gymnasium. It bounced around in Betty’s skull until it came to rest in the pit of her stomach, fetid in its existence. This was a farce; it had to be. Some strange reality show where nothing was true and everything was true; ghosts of the past returning to haunt her; her mother’s sins hanging above the daughter, the Sword of Inherited Damocles trembling among the voices.

“We have a treat for tonight, my brethren. An unbeliever. A heretic. A spiritual murderer in our midst!”

The crowd stamped their feet once. As the sound died down an unnatural silence took its place and Betty shifted against the ropes, trying to find some weakness in the knots.

Evelyn came closer (what was it she’d forgotten) and placed a hand on Betty’s shoulder.

“In another life, this woman, this witch,” Evelyn spat, as if the word itself was unfit for her congregation, “was my sister in all ways but blood. I raised her. I cared for her. I laughed with her, broke bread with her, cried with her.

“And yet when I found the light, when I found the true path,” Evelyn yanked Betty’s ponytail and forced her to face the crowd.

Betty’s vision danced with the darkness. She wavered in and out of consciousness, Evelyn’s words as muffled as a party three doors down, the words muffled against the pain.

“- and yet she and her kind would try to stop our glorious plan. They don’t want us to be free. They don’t want us to reach our full potential. Because if we do -“

“We will rule!” came the resounding response.

Betty’s vision came back into focus and with it came the memory of Evelyn walking out of the coven along with ten other women, among them Alice. Evelyn had spun tales of an eternal life of happiness; promised them power and independence divorced from magic. It was a siren’s call to those who’d felt unheard in the coven, those looked over for positions of power, those whose own magic had fizzled over the years or who’d never been that adept in shaping it to their will.

As for why Alice had left…

Ten years on and Betty still wondered why her mother had gone with Evelyn. If it was a strange sense of loyalty, a belief in the mad prophet’s promises, or if she really did feel as if she’d never been needed within the coven. It had to be something big enough for her to leave two teenage daughters alone. At least, Betty hoped it was something big enough.

Betty’s eyes scanned the faces closest to her, squinting against the stage light. It was hard to distinguish one cultist from another. Harder still when her mind pressed Alice’s eyes, nose, mouth onto each face she saw.

Evelyn’s shouts cut through to Betty and warning klaxons sounded off in her head.

“And what do we do to our enemies?”

“Drink their blood! Eat their organs! Lay them at his feet in praise of him!”

Betty shuddered at their conviction. Belief was one thing; slavish, violent devotion another. She shifted, trying to reach the knife she always kept in her back pocket, but the ropes held her tight. In front of her, Evelyn raised a cup and a sword high above her head, the silver casting beams of light on her congregation. A hush fell over the crowd once more and she closed her eyes in ecstasy.

Seeing her like this, it was easy enough to see why she was called priestess. Robed in lose linen, her feet and hands bare, her copper ringlets danced among the shifting rays of light. An ancient druid steeped in ancient beliefs, her voice held no doubts, no question, no uncertainty as to her cause.

“Hallowed be his name, our one true savior sent to cleanse this earth,” she said softly.

She repeated it, her voice rising each time. The crowd murmured along with her, their eyes locked on her. As their voices raised to a fever pitch the lights went out around them and everything went deadly quiet.

Betty tugged harder on her bindings, desperate to get free. Her gasping breath and desperate attempts were the only sounds in the dark. As the rope dug further into her wrists and ankles she cursed herself for going back to the restaurant alone. She knew she should have waited. But Jughead had gone off on his own, refusing to tell her why, and the thought that perhaps they’d missed something nagged at her conscious. The whole restaurant had a bad aura, lies and deceit running through their cheery facade.

Frustrated with the lack of progress, and frustrated with Jughead’s lack of faith in her own abilities (even though she’d saved him from a demon last week; especially because she’d saved him) Betty went back under the guise of wanting another taste of their bland, flaky desserts and, perhaps, an introduction to their beliefs. Her food hadn’t been in front of her for more than ten minutes before… well before she was hit in the head, she supposed.

The lights went back up again and an icepick of pain shot through her left temple, blinding her. The space behind her eyes throbbed and she leaned forward, her stomach heaving. Ice ran along her wrists and she stifled a scream.

“Don’t make a sound, there’s no telling when they’ll be back,” Jughead’s familiar voice whispered.

Her heart fluttered as the rope dropped from her wrists. Betty looked around and found that the room was completely empty, a psychological tactic no doubt. Evelyn always did like to play head games rather than work things out like a normal person.

“Where did they go?” Betty asked, scanning the room for any sign of life.

“Purification ritual.”

Not that the ropes were gone from her ankles, Betty stood. Pins and needles waltzed down her limbs and she caught herself against Jughead’s shoulder. With a stony expression he slipped off his grey beanie and handed it to her.

“Your head’s still bleeding,” he said in a flat tone.

The rough wool scraped at her raw scalp, but she was grateful for the gesture.

Jughead nodded towards a door tucked away against the wall on the far side of the room and she followed silently, still unsteady on her feet. The third time she stumbled he picked her up and jogged almost noiselessly to the door.

“You didn’t bring any baubles with you, did you?”

She pursed her lips, confused. “Baubles?”

“Marbles, rocks. Whatever those bombs you make are.”

Those charms were anything but baubles, and she’d hate to see what they did in another’s hands. She’d poured years of research into refining the shaky art of imbuing, years she might have better spent pursuing other pursuits. Yet this was where she’d excelled, all for it to be refined down to ‘baubles.’

Laughter threatened to escape her at his ridiculous descriptions. A side effect of the concussion, no doubt. She’d have to seek out Dr. Curdle. Herbs and potions and spells did little against this sort of injury and despite the opinions of most witches, modern medicine did have its own place in their arsenal.

“No, they would have seen right through me if I’d brought anything like that,” Betty said. “Though I suppose they did regardless.”

She stifled a gasp when Jughead shifted her to lean out the door, the sudden rush of blood into her hand rippling with a thousand sharp, tiny pinpricks. Ignoring her discomfort, he slipped down the hallway, navigating his way through the strange maze of white, florescent lit hallways. They slipped out of the building into a common brick alleyway, littered with trash. Steam rose into the chilly morning air and Betty shivered.

In the dim light, she realized Jughead was seething. Strangely, she wanted both to apologize for getting into this situation and yell at him that she didn’t need saving.

Instead, she did neither and thanked him for his help.

He narrowed his eyes at her, inspecting her as if for deceit. Without another word, he slung his jacket around her shoulders and walked past her into the street. It smelled of cold fields and damp earth, coffee and ancient leather. A blush came to her cheeks as she realized how much she’d missed the scent.

It was the concussion, she decided. And the kidnapping and potential of being sacrificed to a madman claiming to be divine. Otherwise she’d never have thought of so many descriptors of how Jughead smelled, walked, and talked. She’d never wonder why he’d come to save her, nor why he seemed so angry about having to do so.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind Betty pulled the jacket on and trailed behind him, wondering how well the suggestion of waffles would go over.

#bughead drabble challenge #bughead fanfiction #bughead #not a drabble!

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mortiferumsomnum · 1 year

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My Top Posts in 2022:

Jason Todd’s Cooking: Ghost King Approved!

A continuation to THIS post!! EDIT: MASTERLIST

Jason wanted to punch Danny.

He also looks like the Demon Brat, so his punchable-looking face enhanced!

How are these ghosts even going to eat Jason’s food anyways?! Can they?! He thought Danny was the only ghostly being capable of stomaching food from the living realm!!!

He was about to fuck off to one of his safe-houses when he heard a familiar voice.

“What in Ancients’ name are you all doing here?!”

“Your Highness!” the ghosts greeted, bowing towards Danny before excitedly straightening up.

They all talked at the same time, trying to explain their reasoning. It was entertaining how the little blob ghosts cooed and did little flips in the air.

With one hand held up from Danny, they all shut up.

“Sorry about that, man,” he said.

Jason walked up to him with hands in his pockets, chuckling. “Must be tough running a kingdom, Your Highness.”

Danny groaned. “Please don’t call me that,” he whined.

“But Your Highness,” said Jason dramatically, because he’s a little shit like that, “I am but a mere commoner! I wouldn’t dare address you so informally!”

Danny snorted, punching playfully at Jason’s shoulder. “You’re an ass!”

Jason grinned. “Good.”

Jason took the envelope, opened it, and looked over the cursive writing he imagined characters in Jane Austen’s books writing like. Well, almost like. The ink was in Neon Green.

“This Clock-y dude is...”

“He’s basically my advisor,” Danny said, not explaining more.

See the full post

1,305 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

Danny Had Enough of Clockwork’s Pining

EDIT: MASTERLIST

***

The reason why Alfred is somewhat immortal is because Clockwork is in love with him, and had “blessed” him, but Alfred is unaware about all this, and Clockwork would love to keep that to himself, thank you.

But Danny, being the little shit that he was, went up to Alfred.

“Hello, good sir!” said Danny in the middle of the grocery store, not at all looking like a naughty little boy up to no good.

Alfred, being the absolute angel that he was, smiled kindly towards Danny, straightening his back after grabbing some canned sardines and putting them in the cart. “Yes, young sir? How may I help you?”

Clockwork, who was still in his lair, cursed as Danny said, “My Dad has been pining over you for... years? I think? And I just wanted to ask if you were free anytime this week so you could meet him.”

THAT BLASTED CHILD! Clockwork stopped time in his lair, making sure that even the observants were frozen, before disappearing and appearing behind Danny with his perfectly crafted Human form.

“Daniel William Fenton,” and good, the child flinched, “that’s enough.”

But when Danny turned towards him, he didn’t look the least bit remorseful.

Clockwork lifted his eyes to see Alfred, and his breath hitched when Alfred smiled. Amusedly. At HIM.

Let it be known that Clockwork did not blush. He didn’t.

“I...” Clockwork coughed into his hand to clear his throat. Because he surely didn’t squeak either. “I am Horatio Clockwork. This child is just someone I am babysitting.”

A loud, ‘Hey!’ came from Danny, which was promptly ignored.

Alfred chuckled. And it was beautiful.

“Alfred Pennyworth,” he said. And his was smooth and beautiful and...

“ClockDad, stop staring at him. It’s rude,” Danny said, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Clockwork huffed. “I wasn’t staring at him, Danny.” Then looking at Alfred, and Ancients, he could look at those eyes forever. “I’m sorry if it seemed that way.”

Danny huffed beside him. “Yeah, Mr. Pennyworth. I’m sorry if Clockwork was enjoying too much of a beautiful view.”

Okay, that’s it. He needs to get his child and himself out of here.

But a small laugh from Alfred got Clockwork out of his thoughts.

“I am free this Friday evening,” he said, bringing out a pen and a piece of paper, writing on it with smooth motions, and handing it over to Clockwork with a wink. “Do message me the time and place, Mr. Clockwork.”

Clockwork took the paper.

And then, Alfred Strode away. Clockwork could swear the man’s hips were swaying.

He got Alfred’s number in his hands, written on a piece of paper.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” said Danny.

That doesn’t stop Clockwork from dragging Danny kicking and screaming out of the grocery store and back to his lair.

******

WHAT IS THIS?!??!?!?!? I DON’T KNOW EITHER XD

See the full post

1,571 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

Soup Kitchens and Runaway Ghosts

NEXT>>

Dani let out a breath of relief. Danny’s injuries were all accounted for, and now he’s fast asleep on the makeshift bed that she made out of cardboard and scratchy cloth that is... semi-clean. There were still bandages that Jazz threw in a backpack that she packed for Danny before Dani flew as fast as she could out of their house, clutching onto Danny as hard as she could until she knew that they were safe and away from his parents and the GIW.

An old, abandoned apartment that seemed haunted (but not really) was the best place she could take them.

But with only clothes and bandages for Danny in the backpack, there wasn’t any food. She took a look outside, and deemed it still early for a few soup kitchens to still be open, especially for dinner.

So, she leaned down, patting Danny’s head, whispering how she’ll be back as soon as she could. She’ll just get some food for Danny and her to eat. She took her own pack, filled with ice-cream containers and plastic spoons that she’s collected over the months she went travelling.

Then, turning invisible, she flew out of the abandoned apartment building.

***

- Okay, so, what happens is that Jason runs a soup kitchen. He’s still Red Hood, and the people helping him run the kitchen are his Goons. But his Goons have no idea that Jason is Red Hood. They just think that Jason is someone Red Hood wants to help, and the Goons love helping the dude. Not just because he’s good at cooking, but because they actually feel like they’re doing something good when they help.

- There’s always a new face coming into the soup kitchen, new kids that ran away from toxic home environments, people who lost their jobs and became desperate, families who are trying to get by...

- Then, Jason felt a chill run down his back and the Lazarus Madness in his mind hiding away where Jason couldn’t feel it. He looked around to what could have caused that reaction, and locks his eyes on his black-haired, blue-eyed child carrying ice-cream containers asking one of his Goons, Bill, if he could fill it up.

- Bill doesn’t ask questions. He told all of his Goons that are working in this kitchen to never ask questions when someone asks for more, or to bring some home. Just do it.

- She doesn’t eat in the dining area that Jason set up, instead tucks away the sealed soup and bread, and some eggrolls Jason taught his goons to make, and walked out of the place.

- The Lazarus Madness then returned, though still dulled and almost whining in annoyance in his mind.

- Shaking his head, Jason walked in to replace the empty pot of soup for a new one. Then, he turned to Bill to take care of the place, saying he needed to report to Red Hood something.

- “Is it the kid with the containers earlier?” he asked.

- “Yeah,” Jason just decided to reply. “I just have a... feeling.”

- Bill frowned and told Jason that he got it from here.

- Jason went out back, opened his security cameras to locate where the kid went. But, when he went to the time the kid walked out of the door, it was like she just disappeared into thin air! Jason wondered what was with the girl that caused the Lazarus Madness to crawl into near inexistence to the back of his mind.

- But Jason decided that he’ll look more into it later.

***

- The young girl shows up a the next day. This time, not only does she ask for the containers to be filled, she even asks for her water bottles to be filled with drinking water because the water jugs that were brought out were empty.

- Interestingly, the girl seemed more tense in front of Jason, squirming where she was standing and trying hard not to stare at Jason, looking away when Jason directs his gaze to her.

- Does she also feel how she’s pushing away the Lazarus?

- A question for another time. He had food to give out.

- This time, Jason and Bill were switched. Bill, his faithful student in the art of cooking, is in the kitchen cooking up more soup while all the other Goons were putting together some ham and cheese sandwiches. And Jason with some of the other goons were giving out the food.

- Jason calls for one of the other goons to change the empty water jugs with new ones while he fills her containers with soup, one container with some rice porridge, and another one with the sandwiches his goons put together. He gave enough that could be eaten for two people.

- When Jason sees the state of the little girl’s water bottles (it’s the plastic water bottles, and it’s all crinkled up like paper), Jason tells the little girl to wait and goes to the back kitchen (noticing when he looks back how the girl relaxes as he leaves) to get one of his water bottles that he stole from Bruce that he wasn’t using. It was big, enough to be filled with four glasses of water.

- Jason could always steal another one. Not like Bruce was using them anyways.

- So, after washing the bottle, he steps back out, refills the bottle, and gives it to the little girl. Her eyes widen, letting out an excited gasp, seeming to forget how tense she was in his presence.

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1,773 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

Burgers are How You Summon the Almighty Ghost King

EDIT: MASTERLIST

***

Look. Bernard didn’t think it would actually work.

But, there he was. The Ghost King! In all his.... teenager glory...

“You are the Ghost King... right?” Bernard asked, handing the teen a ham sandwich he just put together.

“Oh, thanks,” said the teen, accepting the sandwich. “And, yeah. But I haven’t had my coronation yet, so a friend of mine is overlooking some things until I’m ready.”

“Cool,” said Bernard. Then, he gave the teen an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for summoning you, dude. When I read in the pamphlet that you needed ketchup and mustard drawn in the constellation of Corona Borealis, I really didn’t think it would work because it involved condiments and not... you know... blood sacrifices?”

The teen nodded. And after swallowing, he said, “It’s cool. I’m just surprised that the summoning requirements changed that fast across realms after a few jokes I made. It seems some ghosts just don’t leave things be. They probably worked this fast to tick me off...” The teen snorted at what he said, before continuing with a casual wave of his sandwich, “I should change the requirements again, into something more complicated maybe.”

“I could give you some ideas!” Bernard said. Then he gasped. “My boyfriend is REALLY good at contingencies and plans! He could give you some ideas, too!”

The teen frowned worriedly. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.

Bernard nodded, a bit enthusiastically because his bangs were hitting his eyes. “He’s amazing like that! And this isn’t just bias talking! He’s really good at almost everything, it’s insane! He’s a dork, but-”

“Okay! Okay,” the teen laughed. “I get it, he’s amazing.”

“Hell yeah, he is!!” Bernard said, hoping his smile isn’t too dopey.

O_O_O_O

Tim blinked. He blinked at the evidence of the summoning. He grimaced at the black ants that’s marching towards the mess.

Then he blinked at the white-haired teen in some kind of hazmat suit that blinked at him with eyes that reminded him too much of Jason. But Danny’s face looks kinda... familiar...?? Nah, no it doesn’t. But the green eyes does make Tim internally theorize that neon green is associated with death.

Then, he blinked at Bernard’s excited smile.

“Okay, first off, this summoning ritual is insulting,” Tim said, gesturing to it. “There’s barely any drama.”

The white haired teen ducked his head in embarrassment. “I was joking with some of the ghosts in charge of changing the summoning rituals... I don’t exactly understand why it’s important to have something that can summon me when the Ghost Realm and the Living Realm should be kept separate but... well... they insisted. And I was annoyed. And hungry. So, I said the next best thing that came to mind.”

Tim nodded. If he were less tired, he would be snorting in amusement and making some kind of joke Kon would be proud of. But right now? Tim had been awake for the last 71 hours and 45 minutes, a quarter of an hour before the hallucinations sets in, and the only thing keeping him going is coffee and Bernard’s promise for a sandwich. And Bernard, bless his boyfriend, is REALLY GOOD at making sandwiches.

“Okay,” he said, sitting down at the table and taking a bite out of his sandwich. “What if the ritual involved making sandwiches?”

Bernard frowned at his boyfriend. He rubbed Tim’s back, which was heavenly because Bernard’s hands were pleasantly warm. “Are you okay, Babe?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “But like you said, we’re just putting together ideas, so I’m also just spouting everything that comes out of my head.”

The teen nodded in understanding. “Right? Food’s just that powerful!” Then, his face turned serious. “I want it to involve making a burger. Not bought, but made from scratch from the summoner.”

Tim nodded, bringing out a notepad and wrote down what the teen said in the most illegible scribble Bernard’s ever seen. Hmmm, maybe Tim needs some rest.

“What should be the ingredients?” Tim asked, not looking up from his notepad while twirling his pen.

“We need to find the best burger there is in this world,” the teen said. “And then, we write down the ingredients for it, the step-by-step process of how it should be prepared, and what kind of soda it should be paired with.”

Tim nodded, jotting down what Danny said.

Bernard was honestly amused and worried. “Are you sure this is the kind of summoning that you want?”

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2,314 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A Blanket Full of Stars

EDIT: MASTERLIST

Jason was 6 years old when Danny was born, and he remembered that Danny looked like a wrinkly monkey wrapped in Jason’s softest blanket that he could find in his closet. The blanket had all these stars and planets, and tiny little rocket ships that look like they’re about to crash into the moon.

Jason giggled, because his baby brother looked like a monkey in space.

Jason loves him.

That day of his birth, when Jason held the little baby in his arms, he promised to be the best big brother ever. He’ll make sure that no one bullies his brother for looking like a tiny monkey, and beat up anyone that even tries to beat up his brother. He’ll read all the books the old ladies from the diner gave him, and turn on the radio when Danny wants to listen to music because Jason sure as hell can’t sing.

But his mom said they couldn’t keep him. They couldn’t afford to keep him.

Jason was heartbroken.

So, some social workers went looking for a family to take Danny in.

The day the new family came to pick up Danny, Jason held Danny the whole morning, not letting go of his baby brother who was sleeping so peacefully.

Danny had also gotten attached to Jason. He’d stop crying when Jason holds him, rocks him, carries him. He’d make little ‘num-num’ sounds when Jason feeds him. And when Jason talks to him, he’d reply with a ‘bwah!’ and an ‘awuwuwu!!’

Danny can’t lift anything yet, but he’d hold on to Jason’s finger. Danny can’t roll over yet, but he’d lay his chubby cheek on Jason’s shoulder. Danny can’t talk yet, but Jason just knows when Danny calls for him.

So, when the new family comes into the house with the social worker, Jason couldn’t hold back the tears. No, he couldn’t let go of Danny.

Danny was still a month old! What if he gets sick in the car ride! What if the parents forget Danny because he’s so small? Danny might not look like a monkey anymore, but what if the parents leave him alone anyways? How can he trust these people to take care of Danny?

Oh, they have a daughter??

It doesn’t matter!! She is a 2 years old girl that’s crying when she saw Jason crying. She can’t take care of Danny! She can’t feed Danny, or bathe him!! Her tiny arms can’t carry him either!

Danny can’t go with them!

But his mom was crying with him. “I’m sorry,” she said, hugging him when the two parents took Danny. Jason’s head was hugged close to her chest, but Jason had a clear view of his baby brother. His baby brother that was making distressed sounds while being held by unfamiliar people. “I’m sorry, but Danny won’t be able to live a good life here, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jason hated this. Jason could take care of Danny, he promises! He can! He won’t even let his good-for-nothing dad touch him like the month Danny was with them!

But, when the baby girl, Jazz, was lifted by the giant man, Danny stopped making such sad sounds. Then, Jason watched as Jazz lifted her hand. And he was ready to run in and stop her from slapping his brother, but he stopped. He stopped because she patted Danny’s cheek so gently.

And Danny... Danny cooed the same way he would at Jason. Danny held the little toddler’s finger and babbled loudly, like he would when he’s being held by Jason.

Jason hated it. He hated the little baby girl. Danny was going to a better family, going to be taken care by a girl he’ll call his sister. And Jason will be forgotten! Danny won’t ever remember Jason anymore!

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair!

Jason ran to his and Danny’s room. Well, his room now. All of Danny’s things had been packed.

Then, Jason saw the blanket. The blanket that made Danny look like a little monkey in space. It’s the softest blanket Jason has. And Jason doubts that the new family would have a blanket full of stars like his does.

“Jason! They’re about to leave!”

He picks up the blanket, folds it, and runs downstairs. Danny was all buckled up in the car seat the new family purchased just for him. He was sucking on a binky that the new family bought too.

The new family saw the blanket Jason was holding.

“It’s... It’s for Danny,” he told them.

His mom pursed his lips. “It’s not washed,” she said.

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2,496 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

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