#danny is fully dead

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Grave

au where Danny's fully dead and nobody can see ghosts

masterlist

day 21: funeral

[helloilikepurple]

His family circles him in the depths of his birthplace, and perhaps such circumstances should fill him with homely feelings of security and love. It doesn't.

Instead, he finds his mind stuck on the memory of his unconscious, injured mother as he sets eyes for the first time on the one who hurt her, draped across the throne she rightfully claimed upon Grandfather's passing. The man's face is drawn into a cocky smirk, the features striking a familiarity that drags forefront days of being two instead of one when the thief before him stood in the two brothers' shadow like all servants must.

Their eyes meet as he opens the tome on his lap to a bookmarked page, the runes at his feet alighting from the simple movement. He grows even smugger at Damian's glower, and it's only years of ingrained, taught patience that stops him from leaping across the room to murder him as he tried to murder Mother.

He maintains eye contact as his fingers glide over the page, taunting.

Damian grits his teeth and keeps his hold on his katana purposefully comfortable.

Do not fall for it. He reminds himself. Do not show any signs of frustration.

"Such a grand name. Damian Al Ghul. Certainly grander than Danyal."

Damian can't help the angry rumble that climbs up his throat. How dare he speak of Danyal?

Ghalib (a far too powerful title for a coward who hides behind his followers) does not pause, but it's obvious the reaction amuses him from the way his eyes crinkle. "I suppose Ra's had a favourite. Or was it your mother that named you? Tell me, was Talia happier once he was gone? Did she seem lighter?"

"Do not speak of what you do not know." Damian growls, taking a warning step forward.

The echoing click of safeties being disengaged sounds from all directions, every assassins' attention snapping to him in a mirror of his aggression. He feels his siblings and his Father shift behind him, tensing impossibly more at the increase in hostility. Damian couldn't care less about the very clear threat.

He can feel Grayson and Father hovering worriedly behind him, eager to reach out but unsure how or if they should. Normally, Damian would find their unspoken, immediate support strangely comforting, if a bit suffocating at times. Now, he finds it annoying. This is not about him. This insignificant, poor excuse of a man just insinuated that Danyal was unloved.

Danyal, who Mother cried for when the Lazarus Pit refused to return life to him and instead chose to hoard his corpse in its depths. Danyal, whose death had Grandfather making sure the men responsible were mutilated beyond recognition and never saw the light of day again. Danyal, who Damian is still mourning even after all this time.

Danyal was loved. He was loved so much.

The first time in nearly six years he's heard his brother's name spoken by someone other than himself, and it's like this? Like he was nothing? Like Danyal's memory is little more than a black mark on the Al Ghul name?

Ghalib knows nothing. He has no right to speak of Danyal. None.

Ghalib acquiesces with a condescending nod of his head. "Yes, yes of course. My apologies, oh honourable heir. Perhaps instead I should speak of the blood spilt to paint your legacy? All the loyal servants murdered in your family's name?"

"My Grandfather was not a good man, but he was not needlessly cruel. He did not go about murdering his own unless given reason, and even if he had, revenge cannot be inflicted on the dead through their living kin. Mother has certainly never acted as rashly as you suggest." Damian countered, fuelled by indignation.

Grandfather deserved slander, but Ghalib was attacking everyone with the Al Ghul name and he couldn't let that stand. Certainly not after he'd left Mother confined to a bed and spoke ill of Danyal. Mother, perhaps, would claim his defence of her unneeded. Even injured as she is she could speak for herself, she'd say. Danyal has no such luxury.

"And even if they had," Drake piped up, "that has nothing to do with Damian."

Damian vehemently disagrees. Anyone out for his mother's head becomes his business, especially when they have gotten so close to taking it. The situation, however, doesn't allow for an argument on his part beyond a pointed glare at his predecessor.

He brought up Danyal. Damian wants to say. He tried to kill Mother and then insulted her dead child to her only surviving son.

"Tsk, tsk." Ghalib shakes his head, his tone condescendingly soft. "And to think you consider yourselves detectives. Do you truly not understand, even now?"

Father takes a step forward to stand beside Damian, posture tense as though he's ready to leap into action at any moment. It's more than that too, though. He's angry; frustrated. Father does not like not knowing things. He's probably still unsettled by the mention of Danyal.

(He should be more than unsettled. He would be furious if he knew just who Danyal was. If he'd been told of the second blood son he never got to meet because he'd been murdered so young.)

Damian supposes his own reaction only served to unsettle him more.

Tt.

It does not matter how Father feels at this time. Ghalib spoke ill of Danyal, of Mother, and Damian's fury burns so hot it threatens to consume him. How pathetic, to insult those not present to defend themselves. How foolish, to speak so poorly of Damian's family to his face.

"We know what you plan to do and why. That does not make your actions understandable. You are behaving irrationally." Father says.

"It's like talking to a brick wall with you lot." Ghalib sighs. Damian finds he has the sort of voice that becomes more grating the longer you hear it. "Oh well." His eyes find Damian's once more. "I suppose I expected too much."

Damian has never wanted to slap a person so much.

Ghalib leans back with a shrug, the runes' glow flickering as the actions cause his fingers to briefly lift from the page. The angle the book rests now puts its yellowed insides in plain view, but the distance between them makes the words contained within seem like little more than meaningless scribbles. It's a massive unknown. None of them had expected Ghalib to have any talent for magic, yet it's clear from how the dried blood and Lazarus water painted on the floor responds to him he does.

Damian should be concerned about how out of their depths they are, even with Brown, Cain and Thomas infiltrating the base as their backup, surely making their way over to assist. Father signalled them to enter several minutes ago now. They should be close. They should be here already, dropping down from the ceiling in some unnecessarily flamboyant attack.

But they're nowhere to be seen, and Ghalib is a magic user. Damian should be thinking. Trying to figure out a way to turn the odds. Do something more than shake in place, fuming.

Yet all he can focus on is Ghalib and the things he said about Danyal.

How dare he how dare he how dare he how dare he -

"Just remember," Ghalib continues, his voice like the screech of nails on a chalkboard as it rattles in Damian's skull, "I did try to warn you."

---

"Time out!"

At once, the world stops spinning. Everything from the wind in the trees and the collapsing stars galaxies out of reach, so far away Earth has never seen their light, jerk to an unwilling still. It's a silent, all-consuming freeze.

Danny floats in the centre of it all, his beloved katana raised in preparation to land its killing strike, the hundreds of people witness to his execution stuck in a picture of panic and fear. The man who was just quivering at his feet, begging and pleading for mercy he did not deserve, continues to stare up at him with wide eyes, his tears glued to his cheeks. They no longer fall, and the image is almost funnier now that it's fixed in place.

He's grinning as he lowers his sword and sheathes it, an outlier of motion in the ocean of statues. "It's about time you showed up. I almost had to commit to the bit."

He turns to find Clockwork behind him, wrinkled face drawn into a displeased frown. His beard seems thinner than ever, draping low enough to brush the whisp-y tail where legs should be. The jagged scar across his eye is faded, warped by the way age has pulled his features down.

Oof. This is the oldest form yet. Maybe this was a bit too much?

"There are better ways to get my attention." His voice is gravely and low, quiet in a way that he knows is purposeful. Yeah, he's mad. Oops.

"You moved your tower again! What was I supposed to do?"

"There are consequences to messing with time, especially periods as fixed as this."

"Okay, okay." Danny conceded, his giddy delight at Clockwork's appearance melting away in the face of his genuine upset. "I'm sorry for trying to kill Hitler. I wasn't trying to make things hard for you."

The Ancient levels him with a look that has the liver spots on his face multiplying and his hair growing even longer, his body hunching further into itself. "Only honesty can allow for true reconciliation."

Danny winces, drooping low so they are no longer on the same eye level. "Right, sorry. I did know this was going to leave you with a big mess to clean up. But it's urgent!"

Clockwork morphs into a younger form, perhaps middle-aged as far as humans go. The heavy wrinkles are replaced with smooth skin and the beard with a lightly stubbled chin, his scar a clear black line across an otherwise unmarred face. "What matter, so pressing, demands my attention through such unusual means?"

Danny doesn't spare the moustached man on the ground a glance, the swastika-draped flags in front of him plenty reminder of his presence. "Something's wrong."

The raised brow he receives in response is prompt enough to elaborate.

"Okay, so I was just floating around all casual like, and suddenly I started feeling wrong. It's like something important is happening and I don't know what but I have to go, and I have to go now. But that doesn't make sense, and it doesn't feel like forgetting to do something. It's like… like something is pulling at me and pulling and pulling and pulling so much I can't breathe, except I don't breathe because I'm clearly a ghost, so that doesn't make any sense!" He trails off with an irritated groan.

He should have gone to the Yetis. He would have, but they're having a festival and he doesn't want to go and ruin the fun with his melodramatics. Clockwork was supposed to be closer anyway.

"Someone outside this Realm is summoning you." When Danny's attention snaps back to him at the sound of his voice, Clockwork is a child. Younger than Danny was when he died.

Danny gawks. "Why would someone want to summon me?"

Clockwork shakes his head, the movement triggering a transformation back to an adult form, this one in its twenties by the looks of it. "Not you alone. Dozens are being called. You happen to be one of many."

Okay. Not the most reassuring revelation. "Who? Why? Where?"

"I know not their name nor their intentions, but it is clear to me that the call comes to you from there where you were born."

So that means either his home dimension or the League. Neither sound like very appealing places to be. "Can I refuse?" He asks, already anticipating an answer he won't like.

Magic is all answers he won't like, apparently, because, sure enough; "Avoiding what must be will not prevent it from coming into being."

Danny resists the urge to phase into the ground and be one with the floor. He's an assassin, not a child. Come on, Danny, think like an Al Ghul.

"So I'm being summoned. Alright. First time for everything." His gaze is pleading as it bores into Clockwork's eyes. "Care to give me a crash course?"

"The knowledge you seek is already within you."

Okay. Clockwork's still pissed. He won't be getting anything useful from him for a while.

Okay. That's fine. Danny knows lots about magic! He's an expert. Sure, he only ever really studied the practical stuff and the other non-practical bits that apply to him, but that should be enough, right?

Ancients, what use is it to know everything about the afterlife, the Realm Between Realms, and Time, when someone is summoning him? It's like, the one subject he hasn't got to yet. Damnit it this is karma for wagging study time to play with Cujo.

Ha, 'wag'.

No! No wordplay! Focus Danny!

Clockwork's judging gaze isn't any help, so he shuts his eyes and tries to ignore him entirely. Ancients, he's petty for being an embodiment of time. This isn't even the worst thing Danny's ever done!

Focus!

First things first, what does it feel like? Magic is all about vibe. Just zoom in on the wrongness.

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter as the sensation multiplies at the attention. It starts at his core, spreading out to the tips of his fingers in a buzz of hyperactive energy that bounces along the insides of his ectoplasm, grabbing and tugging to force it to bounce along with it. Except his body's natural response to a foreign entity is to reject it, so instead of following the energy's motions it's repelling them in a way that makes him feel like there are bugs under his skin.

Uncomfortable, but not painful.

Deeper.

He draws his focus to his core, where the sensation bleeds out from. Underneath it, his core is cool, as it always is, a pleasant balm against the pull of the summons; an icy haven, expansive like the emptiness of space that lies between stretches of planets and stars, humming a constant, eternal tune. The unfamiliar magic doesn't touch his core, instead covering the frozen fortress that makes up his soul like an unwelcome fleece blanket in the heat of summer.

It's persistent, an urgent command to come, he wants you to come, you have to come. It's human magic, he can tell in the way it's woven together with mortal desire and lifeforce. Not a particularly taxing spell on the caster as they long as pay the cost demanded.

And it's been paid. A sharp, metallic taste tickles his senses, telling whispers of pain and violent death. That's when the rot hits him. Disgusting, corrupted ectoplasm, eons old and infected with all manner of despair and rage and fear. It's regret that's decayed into agony and blackened mould.

It's vile.

It's familiar.

Danny's eyes snap open to the inside of Clockwork's tower, his hand clasped tight around the weathered handle of his precious katana. Clockwork floats before a gear, WWII Germany visible in its centre. He's old again, back facing him and twisted into a prominent hump as he works away unbothered.

"I'm not ready."

Clockwork doesn't turn nor still. He continues working away, unmoved by the whimper in his apprentice's voice. Danny wants to be affronted by the lack of care, but he's just so scared. He didn't think he'd ever have to go back, especially not so soon.

"No one ever is." He finally says, voice carefully gentle.

Danny thinks he's going to burst into tears. The magic of the summons burns like the surface of the sun inside him, blazing and painful and frightening. Come, it continues to urge. "Please, I can't."

Clockwork shifts into a child, just Danny's age. A show of sympathy. "I'll be waiting."

He'll be waiting.

Danny sniffs and lifts his spare hand to rub at his face. Right. Come on, Danny, be an Al Ghul. He takes a breath he doesn't need, forcing himself to calm. "Okay."

And he lets the summoning whisk him away.

Dpxdc demon siblings au prompt

So standard demon twin/sibling setup where after dying for dissapointing Ras Danny is thrown into the pit where he doesn't surface. Damian mourns his brother but never tells the bat's at first because it's to painful but then because he doesn't want to cause his family pain with the knowledge that they have a brother/son/grandson respectively. (I personally like Danny being the older one in this whether it's just the first born twin or he's a couple years older is up to you all)

The rest under a read more.

So we cut to an older Damian as Robin and the batfam are fighting a exiled member of the League of assassins who wants revenge on something Ras did and decide that they will hurt Damian to hurt Ras.

So this exile uses a magical ritual to summon the ghosts of every assassin Ras turned on and killed (its a lot of them) so the bat's are not able to stop the ritual in time because they couldn't get a skilled enough magic user to Gotham in time (is there some other threat? Just out of contact? Performing at little Jimmy's birthday party? Who knows.)

So the bat's are getting what anti ghost gear they can (nth metal weapons magic doodads whatever) when the last and most powerful ghost is pulled through. Damian freezes because he knows that face, he's older and he has an unnatural glow, but Damian will never forget his brother.

The exile is laughing taunting the Bats about the dead son come for revenge on his brother who betrayed him Damian is emotionally distraught crying, apologizing, telling his brother that they tried to bring him back but the pit took him from them.

The other bat's are freaking out in their own way because holy shit this is true?! Meanwhile Danny is staring silently at Damian face completely blank. While the feral ghosts of the assassins are trying to break out of the summoning circle.

One ghost manages to find a crack from where it was weakening from the thousands of ghosts trying to break it and rushes to attack Damian who is too distracted and too far from the others to react. He throws himself back scrambling for his sword as the assassins lunges forward to rip his heart out with his bare hands.

Yet as is seems he's about to meet his doom the assassin jerks to a stop before his momentum is reversed and he's thrown back into the circle. Everything is silent because the one who saved Damian was his own brother who was not even slowed by the magical protection (because he's half ghost not that anyone knows this but him)

The insane assassin starts going on about clearly his betrayed brother has decided that only he is worthy of striking down the heir to the demon. Except as he's mid monolog a ice knife is thrown into his leg missing all the arteries but causing a lot of pain. Then Danny speaks.

"I never blamed you little brother. Now dry those tears and Al-Ghul never shows weakness to an enemy."

As he says this for the first time since he's summoned Danny no longer has that blank face instead he has the most affection filled smile you can imagine while he wipes his brothers tears before he turns to the massive swarm of ghosts.

"Any who would seek to hurt my brother must first go through me, The Phantom, Pariah's bane, keeper of Balance and guardian of the mortal realms, but if you think you can take me by all means just do me a favor, let some other poor sap try first."

Now if the ghosts heed his warning or not is up to you if they do then Danny just opens a portal to the ghost zone for them to flee into, if not then he proceeds to beat the unliving shit out of them before tossing them through a portal anyway.

After everything is said and done Danny goes over to Damian talking about how proud he is to see him growing into such a good person and how it's so wonderful to see him again after all these years. Just really heartwarming stuff there's hugs Dick is crying into Jason's shoulder everything.

Then Danny says it's time for him to go he can't stay forever. Damian is upset saying he can't lose him right after he gets him back. Danny then laughs and says..

"This isn't a goodbye Damian it's just a see you later, I promise we'll see each other again before you know it."

And the batfamily are all crying thinking this is him saying that he'll be waiting in the after life for Damian. Before he goes through the portal closing it behind him

The bat's all handle the clean up and police for the crime scene before returning to the manor and getting explanations from Damian.

After all that the family come together to make a shrine to their departed brother with Damian being the last one to walk away to get some sleep.

The next morning everyone feels lighter with this secret no longer between them as they chat and laugh as they get ready for breakfast.

As they are all sat together ready to eat one of Damians siblings asks if there are any pleasant memories about Danyal Damian wants to share and Damain decides to tell a carefully edited version of one of their escapades (conveniently leaving out that he was responsible for the situation in the first place) only right as he finishes a voice chimes in.

"That's not how I remember it little brother." And standing there leaning against a wall is Danny himself.

[paxopalotls]

The fanfictions are infecting me with brainrot oh my god have some au doodles before I explode

[epicfeather]

Well thats not how you go ghost

[emacrow]

Tim whom is still banned from caffeine went into looking into other ways to get caffeine.

He went into anonymous source from someone name KingTuck4ever who talk about a energy drink that kept him up for weeks during a critical time of his life and Tim was at this point of desperate to spend any time of money he got.

Later that night, he received 6 very large Dark green boxes with a DP logo on it filled with Lightening Green tall soda cans with the name Ecto-Spark!, ingredients tags on the back, made with organic vegan products, DO NOT NEAR MEAT RELATED PRODUCTS, guaranteed to keep you caffeine deprived souls awake and alive enough to enjoy a night afterlife party! Or your money back.

Tim at the point didn't read the back as he pop open the top, smelling a strong scent of caffeine, carbonated bubble and a taste of lemon lime mixed with a tang flavor that had his mouth drowning nearly in drool.

He took only one experimental sip, before his eyes widen instantly and immediately began chugging the soda can for all the liquid caffeine it had inside. This was 1000 times better then Death Coffee Cup from his favorite Cafe that he was still banned from.

It felt like his whole body got electrified with energy and feel like he can run a whole 4 week marathon without breaking a sweat. This drink was like tasting nirvana after a week of being in a Gobi desert for his fucking soul.

.....

.....

.....

Bruce can never know about this. He can't tell anyone about this drink. Not Damian, Not dick, not step, maybe Jason, but Cass can kept a secret since she knew body language. He might possibly go rogue and kill Bruce himself if Bruce tried to take this from him.

Meanwhile Tucker was amazed of the total amount of money he received from the anonymous Caffine obsessed ghost. Usually he ended up receiving old relics, Egyptian related artifacts, gold coins, etc but this is a first he got actually modern day money.

Poor dude must've been recently form a core to spend that much money. Good thing he had send extra since he know how crazy those caffine-obsessed ghosts can be over the new drink he made specifically for himself, Sam and Danny but it's nice to have extra cash for new tech making. Especially since Danny became high king of the ghost zone when he became 20 year old, and the amount of paper works that had been left for dust collecting could filled a planet to the very brim.

Took him, Sam, Danny, Ghost writer and Techno 5 months to fully turn at least 26% of sacrifical gifts from ritual, contracts, conquests, complains from territorial ghosts about humans taking their land/house/property/or about their murder, help hundreds of ghosts stuck in their personal hell of a limbo of their own death, guy name Constantine whom was rapidly becoming a pain in Tucker's ass especially when he got one contract form his former previous life about this guy.

[bluerosefox]

Striking of the Clock

BrainDead or DeadTired idea.

During Tim's BruceQuest he uncovers hidden texts/tombs of a being that controls and watches over the Time Stream and Tim knows this being will have to be his best bet of finding Bruce while also trying to figure out on his own how to get Bruce out of the Time Stream as well.

However the being doesn't have a summoning sigil due to being an Ancient.

He does find the sigil for the Ghost King however, a being that borderlines into Ancients power territory and could in theory grant Tim an audience with the Time being if Tim plays his cards right.

In the end, Tim decides it was worth a shot. He convinces Ra's to 'help' him summon the Ghost King. Ra's wanting to see if such a being could be real and to see how far Tim is willing to go to bring Bruce back, allows League resources to be used.

It takes a few weeks, with Tim also making plans to undermine not just the Council of Spiders but Ra's as well, but eventually the time to summon the Ghost King comes.

Tim honestly was expecting the large eldritch like being that showed up, he just wasn't expecting the being to be basically a formed galaxy mixed with ice and the northern lights itself.

He also really wasn't expecting when he negotiated a deal with the Ghost King, and taken into a place called the Infinite Realms when they shook hands (Tam and Prue is also taken with him, he refused to leave them with Ra's), for the being to shrink down and turn into a white haired, green eyed teen around his age who starts flirting at him.

Nor was he expecting for another being, one that apparently is able to shift aging forms, and a grandfather clock in its chest to appear next to the teen and bonk the white haired teen with a staff and tell him to stop flirting with his future new apprentice....

Wait what?

-x-x-

Danny is rarely, very rarely summoned since taking the mantle of Ghost King. Due to being a new Ancient most old sigils that was once connected to Phantom (mostly teens from Amity tired summoning him a couple of times) no longer worked and the only ones that did were the ones he gave to his friends and family or the Ghost King ones (but again rare due to how rare texts/tombs to the Ghost King is written down)

So when he felt the pull of a summoning he made sure to go in his eldritch form, mostly to see if he could scare them or at least intimidate.

Honestly he was expecting the cult, given the fact they summoned a being known as the (freaking) Ghost King, maybe not them being assassins/ninjas but still a cult.

He wasn't expecting the cute, same age as him too, guy in the room.

(CW totally paused time for a second, gave Danny a file on who and why he was summoned, discussed getting Tim Drake out of Ra's hands (and maybe allowing CW to finally have his own future apprentice because Tim is a smarty smart whose been slowly able to figure out the freaking Time Stream itself.), and then started the timeline again)

Danny decided, after striking a deal, that since he's going to be working with Tim, aka Red Robin (who Danny found out used to be Robin! From Gotham), from now on he might as well shoot his shot and flirt with him and-

"OUCH, CW REALLY?!"

"Stop flirting with my new apprentice for now My King, we have work to do."

[sleepy-grav3]

DC x DP Prompt/Idea

Amity Park has always been haunted; everyone knows this but didn't care as long as it didn't disturb their lives. However, they didn't realize that they made up a third of the beings haunting it.

From the moving trees to the animals with blackholes for pupils. Amitians didn't care if the clouds moved and made themselves into shapes in a way that didn't seem natural, or that the streets always looked so odd or changed as they walked about.

They ignored the mushroom rings at the park, it's not like their dogs were interested in them and joggers tend to stick to the sidewalks. They ignored the people who looked familiar but just a bit off, like their too long arms, their claw or talon-like nails, the lack of facial features, their sharp teeth, and too wide smiles.

The humming and singing at night, the dancing ladies around town, the fog that had a figure just behind it- It wasn't their problem.

Until Wes moved into town and almost Immediately got out and called the Justice League.

At least he waited for Phantom to get to the point of burning out?

[anonymous-existences]

DCxDP Prompt 17 :

Danny was very displeased, displeased at the fact that he had to be a quarter vampire.

Let him explain, Danny had been visiting Vlad for his annual Therapy session, Dan had told the boy that Vlad has been acting strange and isolating himself in his bedroom.

Danny speculated that maybe the man is... Doing evil things again to mess with Danny and so just as any other sane person would, He visited the man. He stepped into a dark and cold room, "Frootloop...?", he called out as he kept the door open Infront of him.

Without even giving the boy a second to process the darkness, Plasmius pounced on him and had dug his sharp teeth and fangs on his arm, Danny took only a few moments and threw Plasmius to the side, his eyes were glowing red.

Danny was cursing as Plasmius's Hair 'Horns' were actual horns now and he looked... Hungry.

Danny would not like to delve more into those new trauma memories but short to say but Plasmius had a more animalistic side to him due to his vampire shtick and it turns out he knows when it happens but simply forgot to tell Danny or Anyone about this situation.

Danny went home after having been bandaged by Dani, He felt weird ever since that day and for the past few days the sun had felt more hotter for him that he ended up using sunscreen often, he found Ectoplasm more... Delicious as well and when he happened to get injured and licked the blood off his arm due to something urging him, he slowly pieced everything together.

Danny started showcasing more vampiric features, his eyes had a red tint, his ears were pointier and his fangs sharper, slowly he's had more of an attraction to blood and Ectoplasm, being able to find or smell blood from afar.

Danny at some point tells jazz and she ofcourse accepts him wholeheartedly and protects him as much as she could, even going as far as intimidating the A-Listers enough that they'd leave Danny alone.

It... It didn't prove good for him though, The Sensors clocked him more as a ghost. It made Maddie and Jack extremely suspicious.

One morning Tucker and Sam had called him something about Maddie and Jack finding out, Danny was then caught especially at a time where Jazz was out of town.

We all know what happens in Bad Parents Maddie and Jack, They have him strapped to a table.

Jazz went home 3 days later and after finding out about what happened to Danny, she ran to the closest person she could get help from. Vlad.

The DC part ;

Danny had ran away with Jazz, Dan and Dani to Gotham, Apparently Vlad had bought them a Manor and Since Dan was the oldest he was the one who managed all the money and he was good at it.

Danny still had difficulty controlling the hunger, the Half Ghost Thing now along with having vampire stuff on him and still somehow being half human was the only thing keeping him sane and feel like he's in control of his body.

These instincts from 3 different species in one body fused to one causing him to get more confused and erratic with his behaviors, Dan resorts to taking Danny out at night and letting him ravage and feed on Criminals which Dan had specifically picked.

Meanwhilst the bats have been notified of Child and Human traffickers or anything of the same level crime that they don't feel bad about have been found dead with bite marks on their necks and their bodies drained of blood, It confused them ofcourse but no innocent bystanders or civilians was ever turned into a victim of this unknown assailant.

The public had nicknamed the supposed "Vampire Meta" As Apparition (Because Dracula was too cliché), One faithful night, a witness happens to see this strange person feed on a criminal.

A black haired teenage boy had their teeth sunken in the big man's neck, their eyes a red tint but it's obvious they were blue, said civilian immediately told the police which gave the bats a lead.

Witnesses starts to see more of him, Red Robin happens to encounter the younger boy on coincidence, his clothes were bloodied but he stared at the horizon of the city. The boy looked out of thought, his eyes hazed as Red Robin approached him, Danny turned his head at Red Robin almost immediately upon hearing his footsteps.

"Hello." He greets with a fanged but soft and innocent smile that made Red Robin's heart skip a beat. Just who is this boy? And why is Tim starting to have a crush for him.

You guys can take it from here, all my thoughts were, Halfa!Vamp!Danny and Dead Tired.

[radiance1]

Jack was an inventor. A hunter. A walking tank of a man who could intimate anyone he wanted to if he weren't such a joyful man.

Daniel was not.

He was short, thin, calm and composed where his father was the sun. He was not a hunter, nor an inventor.

Talia was an assassin. A living, walking weapon. Impossible to notice footsteps. The eyes of a predator and all the grace of one moving in for the kill.

Daniel was not.

He was a failed heir. A less refined weapon than his mother. Footsteps heavy and loud compared to his mother. The eyes of a cold, dead fish with no life and nothing left to give.

He did not know it at the time but.

Daniel was a doctor. Someone that saved people. Mended broken bodies. Always carrying something to help. Nothing but medical knowledge rolling around in his head and the desire to save. Life saver.

Damian was the successful heir. Son of Bruce Wayne. Quiet footsteps. The eyes of a predator. Body trained to perfection. A master of the sword. Life taker.

A success, where he failed.

A battle of heirs. An outcome already decided, already known, already foreseen.

There should've only been one.

And indeed, there was none but one.

In spite of his loss, his failure, he was not exterminated as he thought he should have been. He was instead placed in the pits, the water mending his broken body not for the first time, then taken out, and found himself alongside his mother.

That was the last time he saw of her, and his brother. Only a scar where his brother would have killed him, refusing to be healed, left behind in remembrance.

He then found himself with a family. His father's family. Daniel knew of his father, a genius inventor who could build a great many things from scraps of metal, a gene that, while respected, was not what the League wanted.

It was a fling, and nothing more.

He gained a new mother and a sister. Inserted into a family who welcome him with open arms, yet already had their own dynamics that they practiced from time to time, and he always found himself at a loss when they try to fit him in them in some way.

Then, when he turned ten years of age, a year without seeing hide nor hair of his mother and brother. Came a man, Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters was confident, self-assured. Well trained. Having money to spend in spades and spades yet making all that and more. The eyes of someone who thought themselves better than most, eyes of a snake, a spider, slowly waiting for something to take the bait.

Despite all of this, a certain sense of loneliness seemed to hang around him like an ever-present cloud. Something Danny only realized was there, when he caught the man broken down.

Daniel did not know how to feel of Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters did not like his father, even though he seemed to treat his mother like an old friend, the same way his father treated him. He seemed both fond and somewhat off put by his sister, Jasmine Fenton.

Daniel finds himself respecting and sympathizing with that sentiment.

Jasmine Fenton was nice. Social. Unaware of her unconscious ability to think herself superior. Thinks she is often right. Does not like to be wrong. Likes to think things through.

Likes to peer inside of someone's head.

Daniel does not like that. Vlad does not like it either.

But she is nice, good intentioned, his sister. So he will overlook it. She is also Vlad's goddaughter, and so he too, will overlook that trait of hers.

Daniel was not interested in a great many things. He was not fond of swordsmanship, even though he was ruthlessly trained in it. He was not fond of building like his father, not as fond as running calculations to make inventions work like his mother, was not fond of, and while a useful ability, peering into the heads of others.

He was, however, found of what he found in Vlad Masters' basement. Something he believes was to be kept secret, yet found anyway.

He was unsure of how much time he spent occupied with what he found, time spent with eyes that only blinked when they were forced to because of dryness.

Time that was cut, when the owner of said basement, found him.

Curiously enough, he did not throw him out, and Danny did not notice him when exactly the man got there, nor how long he was there, until he made himself known.

He offered to teach Daniel of the knowledge he so sought, and Daniel only took a few seconds to accept the hand outstretched to him.

Four years. Four years did Daniel study under Vlad Masters, growing his understanding of the human body, watching how exactly to hold a scalpel properly, how to use certain equipment, what exactly to do that would let the human body heal without changing anything too much.

How to help, how to save lives. What to use to cut away pain, and help those in need.

A way to repent for every inch of blood on his small hands, was what Daniel saw.

Vlad Masters did not often make mistakes. His every move was far too calculated for such a thing. But he does, in rare cases, make mistakes.

One of them, was how Daniel found out about his unique biology. Vlad Masters was something called a halfa, a mix between the undead and living, a ghost and human.

It reminded him, not for the first time since he came to live in Amity Park, just how much ectoplasm reminded him of Lazarus Water. Yet he could tell, knew they were different due to various factors.

He wondered if he should try and write to his mother about this, more than once.

He did not.

After his 14th birthday, Vlad said that there was not much more he could teach him. Daniel soaked up all the knowledge given to him like a sponge, and retained all of it easily.

As a jest, he was told that he was allowed to pick a new name because of this.

He thought it was serious.

So he chose Danny. A name that came from one the rare, soft moments between him and his elder brother. Where he could not yet pronounce his name properly, before he underwent correction, a time where both of them were all smiles and no blood on their hands.

Danny.

The rift between Vlad Masters and Jack Fenton somehow, without his notice, closed. They were acting as if they were the best of friends, more so his father than Vlad Masters, and they became a functioning family with their odd little quirks.

When he turned 15, he went to Gotham. He was living with his sister while she attended college there, he did not want to go to school, so he did not.

It took many a time of convincing for them to finally allow it.

Danny did not know Gotham. He knew of it. He knew this to be the home of his brother's father, Bruce Wayne, that it was the city with the most crime, the city home to a notorious number of villains.

The city under watch and protected by Batman.

But not much more than that. He did not care for his brother's father, for whatever legacy he had fell only to his brother to fulfil. He hoped his brother achieved what he wished for.

Back then, and still today.

He wandered the streets of Gotham when Jazz was occupied. Familiarizing himself with the environment and finding out what was where and where is that.

Not for the first time, he found injured, and not for the first time, he treated them free of charge.

He had more than enough money to resupply himself, thanks to his mentor filling his account with money every month.

He gained a bit of a reputation, that child with a far too large lab coat. Dead fisheyes, a wandering doctor who treats anyone injured he came across. Though his reputation was small, having recently just came to Gotham.

One day, curiously enough, he found something new in his endless days of wandering.

A boy dead on his feet, covered in dirt, a ruined suit and looking like he just pulled himself out of a grave crossing the street, unaware of the car speeding towards him.

He was hit, and somehow landed in front of Danny.

He crunched down on his lollipop, throwing the stick through the air and into a nearby trashcan without looking while opening another and placing it in his mouth.

He took the boy home in what a normal person would essentially call a kidnapping,

He did not know how the boy, older than him, survived the trip back to his home. But he wasn't going to complain about it. He entered a room, one filled with medical equipment, the best that could be offered, and placed his mystery guest one of many beds.

He treated him as best as he could, then left to go get something to eat.

He still stuck to his wandering, but he regularly checked in on his guest. A week later, and the boy was awake, sitting up in his bed when Danny opened the door to check on him.

He introduced himself as Jason Todd.

Then he disappeared for some time, and the bed that held him for a week was empty.

Sometime later, he heard of Red Hood.

He did not know what to think of the gunslinger in red, and what his stake in the politics of Gotham would be. He didn't exactly care for the politics, so he stayed away from it.

He did not know why the Red Hood held good will towards him, considering they have not met before. But he was claimed to be under his 'protection' for reasons unknown.

The reason, he found out, after carrying the man to his home (it was a bit of struggle, but Danny was the son of Jack Fenton, and took after him in strength as well, although to a lesser degree), placed him in one of many beds, and found out his identity.

Red Hood was Jason Todd, a patient he had not seen for some time now turned lord of crime.

It was a bit surprising, but not something that mattered.

Perhaps it should have, when he found himself sitting across from the protectors of the night who decided to invite themselves into the house alongside his sister with a Red Hood that looked like he was none too pleased by this situation.

And a brother he had not seen in many a year.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Want to talk?

ectoberhaunt 2023 day 6- tabletop TW- hyperventilating summary- Sam and Tucker have been friends for years. They've always been considered the weird ones, so it's no surprise when the try to talk to the dead.

ao3 ectoberhaunt masterlist part 1 of AHINWTG

Sam and Tucker had been friends ever since Sam had moved to Amity when they were both in first grade.

It had been a friendship forged of being labeled the outcasts, but had led to the two of them being really close.

It was an interesting friendship since there were very few things they had in common. (mainly playing Doomed)

They often ended up in strange situations. (mainly due to Sam encouraging Tucker to break into different facilities to do some ‘constructive vandalism’ as Sam called it. We’re helping keep bad business from destroying the environment, Tucker.)

But it wasn’t all illegal. They also did normal teenage things. Like trying to commune with the dead.

Okay. Maybe that was just a normal teen thing for Amity Parkers. 

Regardless, that’s what they found themselves doing on this dark and stormy night.

***

“Don’t be a scaredy cat, Tucker. It’s just a ouija board. It’s not like we’re doing a summoning circle.” Sam said, rolling her eyes.

“By merely trying to talk to a ghost, we’re summoning it!” 

“Just a mere bit of its presence, we’re not calling for them to fully come over the veil. Besides, we need to do it today because it's the third Friday that also lands on the 13th of the month, and it’s a full moon. There’s no better time. And once we’ve had practice with this, it’ll be much easier to do an actual summoning.”

“Saaaaam.” Tucker said, collapsing onto her bed. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Relax. You don’t even have to do it if you don’t want to, you can just watch.”

Tucker sighed. “No, I’ll do it. At least this way if the ghost gets mad it’ll kill us both and not just you. Your parents would eviscerate me if I got you killed.”

“So ,you’d rather be killed by a ghost than my parents?”

“Let’s just get this over with," Tucker grumbled.

They both settled at a table that she’d dragged to the center of the room.

They placed their fingers on the planchet.

“Spirits, we ask for you to listen,” Sam started, “we ask for a sign of your presence.”

A candle on Sam’s dresser went out. They stared.

“That could have been a draft.” Tucker said. Sam ignored him.

“Thank you, spirits. Will you speak with us?” for a moment nothing happened. Then the planchet started moving and Tucker had to bite his lip to keep from shrieking. If he died he was so going to haunt Sam. Across from him Sam’s grin was almost feral.

H E L L O

W H O R U

Tucker frowned. “Whoru?”

“No, you idiot,” Sam hissed. “They said ‘who are you?' 

Tucker blushed. “Oh.”

“We are…” Sam paused and Tucker frantically shook his head. Names had power. “You can call us Undergrowth and Pharoah.” Tucker shot her a confused look and she just shrugged at him. “What can we call you?”

It took almost three minutes and they had almost given up when the planchet started moving again. 

I A M P H A N T O M

“Can you tell us about yourself, Phantom?”

Again, nothing happened for a few minutes.

I L I K E S T A R S

Sam and Tucker starred. They hadn’t expected something like that.

“That’s…cool.” Tucker said.

“Where are you from?” Sam asked. This time the answer came quickly.

H E R E

They both tensed. 

“Here as in this house or…”

T O W N

“Oh.” Sam said. “Where did you live?” Maybe after this, they’d be able to check out a haunted house.

G O N E

Sam opened her mouth to say something else when it started moving again, and it slipped out from under her and Tucker’s fingers.

G O N E G O N E G O N E G O N E G O N E

She and Tucker stumbled back. Wind started  whipping around the room. The smell of smoke and burned flesh filled her nose and made her gag. The hairs on her arms stood up and she could feel her hair doing the same. She looked over at Tucker with wide eyes. He looked like he’d started to hyperventilate.

The planchet zoomed off the board and crashed through her window.

Tucker stumbled back as the smell of smoke intensified and he gagged, his body shaking with the feeling of electricity running up and down his skin.

What had they done? What had they done!

The wind increased knocking over objects and furniture; they both huddled near the ground, feeling like someone was holding a taser to their skin. 

Then everything stopped.

Tucker looked over at Sam, her eyes were wide and Tucker was sure that his were too.

“Well,” Sam said, taking a shaky breath, “I guess we’re not going to be doing that summoning.”

Tucker collapsed the rest of the way to the ground, shaking.

[haleswallows]

*Biting my knuckles, kicking the air, giggling like mad*

Can we make it Three votes for knight smut!?When I saw your initial reblog first thought was “OHHHH it’s not a Want it’s a NEED”

The scene of Tim pressing his face into Danny’s hip and Danny repeats to himself ‘friends’ lives rent FREE. Tim pulling Danny closer to himself when he sleeps is so RAHH so cute. He wants that cookie so bad. They both do. It’s insufferable (affectionate)

Regardless! Whether you do or you don’t I’m still gonna be here kicking my feet like mad! Thank you for writing and sharing it with us! Have a good one!

i regret absolutely nothing, this was so fun to write 🎶

The sound of the door did little to distract Danny from his task. A droll task, that of reviewing taxes and land ownership and endless numbers of annual yields. Frankly, if Danny never saw again bushels of wheat in the messy scrawl of a Lands' taxman, Danny would consider it a kindness.

Ancients, did Pariah Dark bother with all this? Definitely not, Danny decided, flipping back a few pages to the sorry state of the previous records. Even with all his hard work the last decade, it was still —.

"Danny?" called a voice Danny would know blinded. Tim, a smile pulled at Danny's face and he warmed. Easily, he let the feeling of gentle affection weave through the bond.

"In the study," he called back, tilting only slightly from the records as he spoke. Danny kept his finger firmly planted on the line, lest he lose his spot and have to start over again.

It proved to be for nothing — at the sound of the door pushing open, Danny glanced up. Then froze, mouthing parting.

The sight of Prince Timothy, the third son of Gotham and High Chief's Consort, in armor and standards wasn't a new sight to Danny. But it was a rare one.

It never ceased to impress Danny — partially due to the grace of which Tim maneuvered himself in the armor, but also the intimidating form he made while fully kitted. Though Tim did not wear full plate armor, preferring a blend of chainmaille and strategic armor pieces, it still cut a fiendish figure.

Danny's mouth went dry. Heat pooled in his belly, zinging down his spine and sending his fingers tingling. Any hope to keeping his mind on task to analyze taxes was entirely lost to lust. The Armet helm fully obscured Tim's face, but Danny swore he could see the gleam of his blue eyes behind the visor.

Of course, there was no hiding his reaction. And no hope to salvage any sort of dignity. The bond betrayed Danny immediately. Tim's amused-affection-interest answered Danny, doubling and tripling the heat dancing up his spine in a feedback loop.

"Hello, husband." Tim's voice echoed oddly in the helm, but the affection and play in his tone was obvious.

"Hi," Danny stupidly answered, breathy and unable to think of anything else to say.

For a beat, they considered one another. Then, the moment broke as Tim took a step. Danny pushed himself away from the desk and moved to stand, to meet Tim, to pull of the helm and press his lips to Tim's throat and taste the salt there. Though, a clipped command of "Stay" from the prince had Danny stilling.

Tim drew up in front of Danny. He offered his hands to Danny. "Assist me with my gauntlets, sire."

Danny took in the gauntlets, flicked his eyes over the bracers he'd gifted Tim for their second wedding, then up to the faceless helm. He licked his lips. With nimble fingers, it was only a matter of pulling the articulated gauntlets from Tim's hands and leaving behind the padded leather gloves.

Though, as Danny reached for the bracer buckles on Tim's forearm, his hands were swatted away.

Tim stepped between Danny's knees, impossibly close, and pressed a gloved hand to his chest. "Stay," he commanded again. "Keep your hands here." The instruction came with a tap to Danny's thigh with Tim's other hand.

Danny's mind blanked. He struggled to follow the order. Afterall, he was High Chief and not so used to following them. But he found himself helplessly obeying Tim's directions. Especially as the man drew back what felt like only a hair's breadth to begin pulling his gloves off one finger at a time. Danny watched, transfixed, as skin slowly revealed.

Tim then turned his efforts to the arm harness. The tie came undone from beneath the tabard, Tim slowly pulled until the pauldron came loose. Carefully, he set it on the desk. The other pauldron followed it closely.

Next, Tim moved onto his bracers. Merely the sight of them, the very bracers Danny gifted to Tim on their second wedding night, made Danny's heart clench and his breath catch. He watched Tim's slender and calloused fingers work the buckles, wishing they were on his skin and not the leather strapping. Again, Tim took his time removing the armor — left and then right — before setting them on to the desk.

All the while, Danny watched. Dug his fingers into the fabric of his pants to keep his hands to himself while he yearned to snatch up Tim's hands and press those fingertips to his lips.

The helm tilted. Tim lifted the tabard to reveal the paunce of plates. "Your assistance, my lord, if I may request it."

Something in the request, the arching formality sent Danny trembling. Even with Tim standing so close between Danny's thighs, he had to lean forward to reach the buckle on the back. This close, even through the the armor, Danny could feel the warmth of his husband. Through the slot of the helmet, a hint of Tim's face came visible — the cut of his jaw, a plush lip.

Uncaring, Danny dropped the paunce of plates on the floor. Still, Tim held the tabard up, keeping on display the lendenier, the belt that held up his cuisses. "Will you attend to me, sire?" he murmured.

Danny obliged. He rose from the chair. The movement crowded Tim and he fell back a step until his hips met the desk. In front of him, Danny wasted no time dropping to his knees. He took Tim's foot into his lap, fingers slipping into the straps of the greaves. Danny rolled his lips in, admiring the strength of his husband, the beauty of him. He slid hands up and up and up to find the ties of the arms garment.

One hand braced against the cuisse, Danny found the cord and tugged.

The armor came away in his hands and he set it aside, almost belligerent in his disregard for the haste he dropped it to get his hands back on the delectable thighs in front of him.

Danny pressed his hands into the muscles of Tim's thigh, cupped the back where it met glute and felt the muscle tremble. The bond lit bright with pleasure-excited-hurry. But Danny would not be rushed.

He worshiped. Because what good was he for if not to love this man?

The greave came away easily. Lastly, the sabaton. With clever maneuvering, it slipped from Tim's boot. Again, Danny swept his hands up. Even through stockings, the padded leggings, he relished every moment touching Tim. Muscle, svelte and firm, beneath his palm. Danny felt like he was on fire, liable to start aflame at any moment if not for the ice in his core. The increasing urgent press of the bond let him know Tim felt the same.

Danny was losing his mind. As much as he could not stop pouring his want into the bond, Tim couldn't either. Together, they made a spiraling mess of emotions, working each other up.

Gently, he guided Tim to slide his foot from his lap. With a deliberate care, he repeated the service to Tim's other leg. Cuisse, greave, sabaton. The only sounds to accompany Danny's achingly devoted care was the clanking of metal and his own heart in his ears. Noisily, he breathed deep through his nose. Panting, half-hard in his pants, holding himself at bay from ravishing Tim with only the gut-clench of his indomitable will.

By the end of it, Danny felt winded. Trembling. Stretched thin and desperate. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Tim's knee and looked up through his eyelashes at the helm. Barely, he resisted rubbing his face into the lendenier.

Tim's chest heaved, visible even under the chainmail shirt and the padded arming garment beneath that. Danny's eye caught on the minute tremor of Tim's hands, the way the lendenier accentuated the trim slimness of Tim's waist, the spread of his legs. Every detail, delicious and acted as kindling to the fever that had been slowly building under Danny's skin.

And of course, he couldn't overlook to the nearness of his face to Tim's groin. In fact, Danny could see Tim's erection straining against the linen of the leggings Tim wore beneath his gambeson and armor. A small wet circle of precum stained the fabric.

Danny knew in less than a heartbeat exactly what he wanted.

"May I continue to service you, Your Highness?"

It's been months and months since Tim was 'the prince' or 'Your Highness'. But the game they played now — Danny found a type of excitement, a trill of something eager and yawning inside him to kneel before his prince and beg in that pretty doublespeak.

But they were playing a game. Tim shifted to press the soft-soled boot to Danny's groin, inspiring a groan. He applied pressure, and something Danny couldn't quite name pooled in his belly — surrender, excite, approval. He didn't know what Tim could discern from the bond, but it must have been something he liked.

As answer, Tim widened his legs. Just as he settled more firmly against the desk, he hefted the chainmaille and tabard higher. A clear invitation.

"You may," Tim affected, demure.

Danny took a deep and shaking breath. That will and patience continued to guide him as he carefully unlaced the lendenier. Then it was quick work to push down the leggings just enough to expose Tim's cock.

Finally, Tim nearly sobbed with relief, helm thrown back. Then again, a cry bitten off as Danny curled fingers around the base of his cock, licked a long stripe from root to tip and took it into his mouth.

Pleasure, lightning bright and warmer than any flame sang through the bond. It ricocheted down his spine and went straight to his cock. Danny moaned.

What sweet pleasure, to know his own want and feel it reflected back. To feel the result of his affections and administrations. There was no other place Danny could think to be, on his knees for his husband and bracketed by his thighs. And even unseen under the helm, Danny knew the effect he had on Tim — from the quiver of his thighs to the shortness of his breath.

It tasted sweet on his tongue.

Danny lavished attention on Tim. The taste of his precum made Danny's pulse rabbit, the only sound in his ears Tim's pants and low curses. Here, Tim's natural scent and musk filled Danny's nose. In his own pants, his cock strained and Danny couldn't keep from palming himself, eyes nearly rolling back in his head. This was what he liked best, giving sweetly to Tim's demands and his husband taking his pleasure from him however he wished.

He took as much of Tim's cock into his mouth as he could, nose brushing against the tidy nest of pubic hair. With the portion he could not get into his mouth, Danny jerked off with his other hand in time with his sucking and licking.

"Gods," Tim breathed, hand fisting into Danny's hair. A stuttered jerk of his hips was the only instruction Danny needed. He let his mouth fall slack, tilting back just so. Shifting his hands to the firm muscle of Tim's outer thighs, Danny looked up through his eyelashes to find the helmet tilted in consideration. From the slot, just the slightest glimmer of Tim's eyes were visible.

Danny half wished Tim would take the helm off. But also enjoyed their little game, the thrill of it warm in his belly. "You serve me so well," he praised. And Danny felt a flush spread over his body, delighted.

It took only those words. Danny's cock twitched in his pants.

Tim shifted his grip, moving to cup Danny's head. Tenderly, so gently that Danny's eyes fluttered. He marveled, for a moment, at the delicate way Tim treated him. As if breakable, as if worthy of being precious.

Tears almost sprang to Danny's eyes. Even without words, just from the caress and the unending warmth in the bond, Danny knew. Knew, as a natural truth, that Tim loved him. As the sun rose and stars shone, it was true.

Then, those clever fingers twisted in his hair. Tim held Danny firmly in place as he began to fuck gently into his mouth. Danny breathed heavily through his nose, saliva pooling in his mouth. Picking up his pace, Danny sucked hard on the tip of Tim's cock and watched the expressionless helm.

He didn't need to see Tim's face. The bond spoke volumes what the helm could not conceal. Danny's world shrank to that — the silken weight of Tim's cock on his tongue, and the spiraling loop of pleasure. As Tim chased his own pleasure between Danny's lips, the bond lit and trembled.

Then as Danny pressed a palm to his own cock, the bond sparked again with his pleasure. Tim's hips stuttered in response.

Danny groaned around Tim, eyes slipping closed for a moment. His eyes flew open again as Tim brushed a thumb under his eye then pressed it to the corner of his mouth.

"So good, sire. Perfect just for me."

Another time, Danny might drag it out — take his time, find the balance of slowly pulling pleasure out of Tim, letting them spiral and float in that sweet satisfaction they found in each other. But right then, Danny felt half wild and desperate, as if he had taken a deep breath of wild magic.

Danny dove forward, swallowing down more of Tim's cock. For a moment, Tim's grip tightened painfully in his hair and even that was a sharp edge pf pleasure — and how fucked was Danny, that he loved that too. Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes as he swallowed down further until the head of Tim's cock brushed the back of his throat.

Ancient, the noises Tim made. Danny could get drunk on it, sweeter than any mead and more filling than any meal. If he could, he would nourish himself on Tim alone — his love, his body. He sucked desperately and bobbed his head, toes curling as each pants and obscene sound sent writhing jolt of pleasure down his spine.

Achingly hard, Danny squeezed his dick. Tim's fingers spasmed in his hair.

"Close," he ground out, hips jerking. Danny breathed heavily through his nose, maintaining his pace. His lips felt swollen and slick, a dribble of spit running down his chin as he devoted himself to the task.

Soon enough, Tim shouted wordlessly. At first, he bowed over Danny's head. As his orgasm shook through him, Tim leaned further back against the desk and let it take his weight with a clatter of his armor.

All the while, Danny rode out the shocks of pleasure through the bond. He puffed and panted, trembling on the verge of his own release. Tim calmed and peered down at Danny through his helm. Something like smug and self-satisfied filtered through the bond as he took in Danny's state.

"Look at you, my lord," he murmured. "Look at this mess."

Tim smoothed a hand through Danny's hair, righting where he had mussed it. Danny fought for only a moment to not lean into it, and then gave in. He watched from under hooded eyes as Tim carefully wiped the spit from his face, the tears from the corners of his eyes.

Each touch only served to make Danny's body sing. He panted through his nose, winded and heart pounding.

He just knew Tim was smirking under that blasted helm.

"Well, go on then, my lord," came the order. Languid, Tim leaned back against the desk. Hand on Danny's cheek, thumb caressing. "Come for me, sire. Use your hands."

Though his eyes fluttered, Danny kept his gaze on the slot of the helm. Knowing Tim's attention was fully his, Danny wasted no time shoving down his slacks. Finally, he stroked his cock. Danny preferred Tim's hands, mouth, anything on him. But for now, his eyes were heavy. His back arched, head pressing into Tim's hand and stroked long and hard along his cock.

"You're so pretty like this," Tim hummed. "On your knees, desperate. Come on, Danny, come for me."

It took only that. The final echoes of Tim's release still rippling through the bond, his husband's voice, the command and his own frenzied need. With just a few stroke, Danny came over the floor between his knees.

Oh, Ancients. Someone was going to have that clean that up. Danny, most likely. Though he could not find it in himself to care. He leaned heavily against Tim's leg, struggling to catch his breath and vision fuzzy on his edges as he struggled to calm himself.

He came to himself with the sound of Tim's voice in his ears, a low soothing murmur. Danny hauled his eyes open, surprised to see Tim must have removed the helm.

His hair was sweaty and matted, his face flush. Tim smiled indulgently down at him, fingers playing along the jut of his jaw and stroking up to trace the long point of his ear. Danny shivered.

Tim's smile slipped. "No —!" he started, cutting off into a wordless protest as Danny surged to his feet. He mashed their mouths together, swallowing down Tim's continued complaint. "Danny!" he managed, purely by planting hands onto Danny's shoulders and pushing.

"Yes, husband?" Danny diverted is attempts to kiss to Tim to lathing attention on his neck. Tim shuddered, breath catching. Victorious, Danny pushed the tabard and maille higher up to find the creases where Tim's groin and hips met.

"I must insist you at least —," Tim interrupted himself to gasp, arching up so that Danny could grab firm handfuls of his ass. "My lord, the bed."

"But," Danny argued. He smiled where he kissed along Tim's throat. He found the pulse point and sucked. Something bright and pleasure-need-want burst in the bond. "What wonderful memories I would have for the next time I work at the desk if we fuck here?"

"Shameless." The rebuke was weak, ruined by the reflected pleasure and smile in Tim's voice. He ruined it further by throwing his head back to give Danny more access to his neck.

"Shameless," Danny agreed.

[fictionalcharacters-mybeloved]

Goodbye bad feelings, hello empty memory.

Alright, I love the idea of Damian and Danny as twin who love each other very much but for some reason split up or didn't get along but learn to do so because they love each other more than they resent each other, really, I swear, but.... Danny never remembers anything from his time in the league.

Absolutely nothing, maybe he had some memories before he died for the second time, maybe he remembers Damian and he misses him, he is his brother and he loved him and.... not anymore, when he has his accident and dies for the second time his memory is lost, for a while he has a hard time recognizing his friends, he opens his eyes and doesn't know who are the guys that look so desperate in front of him.

Time goes by and although there are memories that never came back (he hardly remembers his first years with the Fentons, let alone the ones before that), he improves, learns to use his powers, gets closer to his friends, learns things again.

He discovers things in his room, something about a past he no longer knows, it bothers him not to know but even though he tries to remember nothing comes back, the name "Damian" causes him nothing, reading a little of what he wrote after researching the language he also doesn't recognize, he decides it wasn't important, not anymore at least.

He reads what he can and decides that yes, there are things he is fine without remembering, maybe he lacks context, maybe there is something there that he should discover or be more interested in a past that seems so mysterious but... if when he remembered him he thought he would be happy now that he was far away, maybe he was just as important as Dash, someone who unfortunately won't let himself be ignored but one day he will leave behind and never think of him again.

Life is good.

Or was until Robin, Gotham's vigilante, ambushes him with a heated speech full of pain and resentment while on "vacation" with his parents in Gotham.

Danny has had weird things happen to him before but he usually has context.

Robin looks furious and about to cry (if his unsteady voice says anything), Danny stares at him, from his hair to the way he moves, he pays attention to his voice and his sword but all he can say is "you know me?" without acknowledging him in the slightest.

[dv21]

Oops, someone got caught 🤭🫣

[bluerosefox]

One Upon A Time...

Ghost Robin!Jason finds himself in the Infinite Realms and stumbles into a floating ice castle.

Inside said castle is a sleeping/healing Prince of the Infinite Realms Danny Phantom.

And a sticky note written in purple ink saying

"Even fairy tales have some grain of truth in the stories. Will you try to see if its true Jason Todd?"

[quendlyn]

A Secret You Would Die For

Inspired by this clip from Death Becomes Her, the musical. The whole musical was fantastic. I can't wait till the whole soundtrack is out. If you can't tell by my previous posts that I am hyperficsating on Batman and Danny Phantom, have I seen either of the source materials? Kinda, but mostly no, wait, where was I going with this....RIGHT.

Basically, a new villain/cult/evildoer has surfaced in Gotham. But wait, they're not actually new. According to what Tim has found, the same people who are committing some of the cold cases are also committing current-day crimes. But how? Some of these cold cases are really old! After some digging, Tim discovered that all of these people have one thing in common: they all went to a very specific store. You can't find this store on Google; apparently, you can only even know its location through a business card. And, well, technically, Tim did find its location through a business card. A business card he stole from the store's newest customer. With a couple of other members of the bat family, Tim sneaks into the store. The store looked normal, just some candles, ghost plushies, salts, incense, and crystals. It all looks normal except for something very curious sitting on the front counter. A glowing green crystal on the counter. It looks like a recreation of a bottle with the way glass encases the crystal. All it takes is pressing down on its metal head for the purple in the back to flutter in a new breeze. Tim and Co. find a long black marble staircase that leads to a basement, no a ballroom. The room is supported by marble pillars scattered around. He can feel the chill of the floor permeate through his boots. A hoard of people in skimpy vine-like body suits surrounds them. There's not enough of them to be an issue in most cases. Regular goons, easy peasy. Highly trained, athletic attackers with home-field advantage, some idea of their weaknesses, and outnumber them greatly, well, that's an issue. To put it simply, they lose and are tied up before another staircase opposite the main exit. A gorgeous woman decked out in a high-low dress mimicking leaves and purple flowers. She looks over all of them before she speaks. She explains how, since the beginning of Gotham, she's been freeing beautiful young people of their imperfections. When they question how, she offers to give them a demonstration. The thorn-clad goons drag Tim to kneel at her feet. She pulls something from her vast, sweeping sleeve. It is just like the crystal at the desk, but instead of a crystal, it is full of a glowing green liquid. Removing the top reveals a long, thin dagger that she plunges through his finger. She places it back in the vial for a bit before forcing Tim to drink it. The vigilantes behind Tim writhe in their bonds, their breath quick in anticipation of what will happen to one of their birds.

Nothing happens for Tim besides a cold, iron-like taste refusing to fade from his mouth until a cold seeps through his body from his heart. The shock of his heart no longer beating steals the breath from his lungs. They don't fight to pull any more air in. The cold seeps into his bones and forces his muscles to relax. He can barely feel the hands that pick his slumped body up from the floor. His vision darkens around the edges as he is laid on a purple chaise lounge. He can't feel the plush underneath his hand. Panic and fear slip through his fingers as his hearing fades. Then the ice turns from comforting to burning as he's ripped away from death's eternal sleep. His muscles spasm, and his back arches; there's no breath in his lungs to formulate words. He shakes with his head pressed against the cold, cold floor. The taste of cold iron mixes with the taste of bile. Amethyst heels click against the floor towards him. A hand her hand lifts his chin gently, blue eyes meet violet. She smiles.

[starry-bi-sky]

childhood friends danny and jason miscellaneous thoughts: because why not, i'm reworking ch2 because it no longer fits with the remaster of chapter 1 so i've been thinking of them, and i love talking about them. which you should totally go read the remaster because its 26k words and im very proud of it and it barely got any attention.

First off Ellie vapes. Mostly because I think its real fucking funny. The first time Danny finds out about it he gets all up in arms about it. Ellie at first thinks its because she's smoking -- which, helloooo pot meet kettle, Danny has been smoking for a lot longer than she has.

And then he throws a curveball at her and says he's upset specifically because its vaping. Like no, no. Dammit, if you're gonna fuck up your lungs you gotta do it properly, none of this cotton-candy flavored nonsense.

He plays it up for laughs and it's largely non-serious 'i can't believe you're using a vape', if only to hide the fact that he is genuinely displeased with his little sister smoking. Self-destructive behaviors and bad habits are his thing, thank you very much.

But, well, he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he told her he didn't like that she was smoking. He's aware its bad for him, but habits are hard to break and he's not particularly keen to break this one in particular.

Danny bullies her relentlessly about it whenever she vapes in front of him. Like don't be a loser, Elle, carry a carton of cigs and a lighter in your back pocket like the rest of us degenerates.

[more under the cut]

Secondly: Danny's piercings? He got the first lobe piercings as a lost bet from Sam in junior year, and they did it in her room with a needle, a small bottle of blood blossom extract, and an apple. He broke out in hives for a week after thanks to the blood blossom, but it prevented the hole from healing up :)

He got the rest done professionally at a piercing place in the Ghost Zone. He asked Johnny where to find it. Sam and Johnny (and Kitty) nearly convinced him into getting snakebites. He got an eyebrow piercing instead.

Danny's undercut is also self-done, he did it because Technus shot at him with an ectoblast and it missed hitting him, but set his hair on fire. Danny got it out pretty quickly, but it left his hair lopsided and obviously looking like it got burned by something. He went to Sam for help after the fight. He liked the way it looks so he's kept it that way since.

-

Vlad brought up Jason once(1) in a taunt during a fight, and this was after Jason disappeared from the ghost zone, and Danny very. very nearly killed him on the spot. He hasn't done it since.

Which leads into the other thing: Grief Triggers! As I call them. All Banshees have them in this au.

While all banshees are, in general, in a permanent state of grief, Grief Triggers are a specific emotional response that can cause them to spiral into a state of intense, sometimes debilitating sorrow, and most of the time causes them to start wailing.

Banshees know what their Grief Triggers are and in general tend to try and build up a form of resistance against it so that, if something occurs that happens to trigger said grief, they can at least either get away from other ghosts to let loose or have enough control over themselves that it'll take more work to send them spiraling.

As expected, Jason is Danny's grief trigger. He's built up a pretty good resistance to it so that hey, talking about him and his death is easier than when Danny was fourteen. But a little more prodding and it will trigger, especially depending on who brings him up and how. (See: Vlad)

Grief Triggers also manifest relatively the same; with the induction of an intense state of grief and sorrow, but how a banshee acts on it can sometimes vary. Again, it depends on who triggers it and how. Some of them can get,,, violent, depending on how it happens.

Rath, this au's 'Dan', is a case of a banshee being put into the grief state caused by grief triggers and... never really leaving it. Which they usually do on their own, or with help depending on the severity of it.

At the time it happened Danny was going through the worst week of his life a second time: his best friend's ghost disappeared, then his family and friends all died right in front of him, and then he was stuck with someone who wasn't helping him through that grief.

He was already in the grieving state when Vlad tore out his ghost half. As a result, Vlad only made it worse. With that fury thrown into the mix, Vlad ended up getting torn apart and nobody else was close enough with nor could they get close enough to Rath to help him come down from the wailing state.

So Rath ended up getting stuck in a perpetual negative feedback loop of absolute misery, and well... drove himself insane. The rest of the world became collateral as a result.

-

the difference between Danny and Jason lies in the fact that Jason died, while Danny is dead.

-

I'm having more thoughts on the CFAU/TMWS universe banshees, actually.

Banshees are either born in the ghost zone from ectoplasm and are ecto-entities and work as banshees as how we know of them, or they're human spirits that died mourning someone and that grief was so intense that it turned them into a banshee. They're a little more rare.

These banshees typically mourn only one person, or sometimes they follow their Realm-born counterparts and choose a family to mourn for. Typically their own.

Ember is not a banshee; human spirit banshees are always mourning another person. However, her abilities emulate certain qualities of banshees: like the beautiful singing. But in comparison to an actual banshee, Ember's voice pales.

Does this mean Danny has the better singing voice? Yeah. Ember is incensed by this.

-

If canon Danny and CFAU/TMWS Danny met, I think canon Danny would be kinda unsettled or off put by CFAU.

CFAU Danny still has some pretty core Danny traits, at least I like to think so -- his general drive to help people just out of compassion for them (even if it manifests differently at first due to trauma), his wit and humor, his fear of failing to protect his loved ones, all of those resonate with canon Danny.

However, canon Danny, as far as I can remember and as far as his wiki goes, rarely gets extremely angry or emotional. He gets irritated and he gets annoyed but him getting mad I don't think happens super often. CFAU Danny is the angrier one between Jason and Danny. It's one of the things I consider a division point between him and canon Danny as it's a result of him growing up in Crime Alley. Canon Danny is canonically shy and meek prior to becoming Phantom, CFAU Danny couldn't be -- he'd be dead already.

CFAU Danny's anger would off put canon Danny, in my opinion. His anger, his smoking, and for lack of a better term, his bloodlust would unsettle him.

Like, for example, say CFAU Danny gets transported to a canon (or canon-adjacent) Danny's universe. He's staying with canon for a little bit as they brainstorm how to get him back home, and CFAU Danny goes to school with canon if only so that he's not stuck in the house all day.

Whether they try and pass CFAU Danny off as canon's cousin or if the town already knows that he's another version of Danny, it doesn't matter. Because insert Dash.

Dash who, in CFAU Danny's world, has since learned not to fuck around with Danny or the other kids because Danny has long since asserted that he will beat his ass if he does. 'Fucking around' always predates the 'finding out', and Danny is happy to act as consequence.

(As my father told me (paraphrased) when I was a small child and full of uncontrollable anger: "there's gonna be a day where you're gonna hit someone, and they're gonna hit you back")

And canon Dash, who is used to canon Danny who kinda just takes it because it means that he won't target other people, would see CFAU Danny. He'd notice the resemblance between him and canon, immediately try and go "oh new target!", and try and bully him the same way he does to canon. And Danny "I am the consequences of your actions" CFAU Fenton, instantly throws hands.

Just, CFAU Danny is kind but he's also Gotham-raised and full of bite; he's meaner than canon is. He's more ruthless too, especially in his ghost fights. The ease of which he slips into violence would, imo, discomfort canon. CFAU and Canon would eventually get along though, they're not so different that they'd be in constant clash of each other.

(Canon Danny and Danyal Al Ghul however,,, thats another post LMAO)