#dcxdp fic

[minnesota-fats]

Some sketches I did for a fic I made where Jason and Danny get kidnapped by the GIW

(spoiler Maddie is also there)

[avelnfear]

Master List for Third Time’s A Charm (Wherever You Go, I’ll Always Follow) (ttac(wygiaf))

Prologue  Chapter One  Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four  Chapter Five  Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen

[numinous-scribe]

Here is today's fic for @haunting-heroes-creative-games winter advent! Today's prompts: Stars & Gift Exchange

Rating: Teen Pairing: Tim Drake/Danny Fenton Summary:

Tim gives Danny both the date and present of his dreams. Now what does Danny have up his sleeve in return?

[scarletsaphire]

Our Death Was The Start (Til Death Do Us Part) Chapter 2

I haven't slept yet so its still Wednesday which means this is on time. No one can tell me otherwise. Also almost none of this was planned but I really like writing the trio hanging out its just so much fun.

Chapter 1

The way the boy sat up was abrupt and immediate, on his feet before Danny could even blink. Danny did not react so quickly, or so gracefully, and instead tumbled to whatever constituted a floor in the voidscape of the dream. The boy’s gaze, which had been taking in the surrounding darkness, snapped to him quickly. Danny offered a sheepish smile from his place on the floor.

“You uh-” he floated back to his feet, his powers so much more responsive here. “You startled me.”

The boy made a noise that definitely wasn’t an apology, but Danny decided to take it as one anyway. “Where is this?”

Danny offered a shrug in response. “I’m not sure about the where. I don’t even really think it’s real. I’m asleep right now, I know that for certain, which makes this a dream.”

The boy narrowed his eyes at Danny, the mask following suit. “Well, its not a dream. Last I checked, I’m very much real.”

Danny returned the look back. “That sounds like something someone from a dream would say.”

“Yea? And what would someone who's not from a dream would say?” The boy switched from his east coast accent to mimicking Danny’s. “Oh yes this is all your dream Mr. Main Character! The whole world revolves around you!”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yea, all of my friends say that every time I see them. Exactly that voice.”

The boy barked a quick laugh. “Well, that tells me I guess. Shows what I get for assuming.”

“Yea, it really does.” Danny extended a hand. “My name’s Danny. If you’re gonna keep showing up in my dreams, we might as well get to know each other.” The boy blinked, his mask moving with the motion, and wasn’t that an odd thing to look at? Danny stared back at the whites of the mask as the second extended into two, then three. “Are you gonna shake my hand or…?”

He shook his head quickly, and took Danny’s hand. “My name’s Jason. I just…” he trailed off, not breaking eye contact with Danny. “Your name sounded familiar.”

“Well, I have been talking to you for the better part of three weeks now. I’d hope that you remembered at least some of that. I’d hate to be talking to the void the entire time.”

Jason’s face contorted in a way that Danny was fairly certain meant he was raising his eyebrows. “Huh.”

“Huh what?” Danny asked.

“Now that you mention it, I do remember someone talking,” Jason said. “You say you’ve been talking to me for almost three weeks now? That means I’ve been unconscious for three weeks?”

“Well, you’ve been unconscious here for a little more than that. I just wasn’t talking to you before then,” Danny replied.

Jason’s brow furrowed in a look of concentration. “And why are you so sure its a dream, and not some room or something? Is there anything beyond all this?” He gestured around the abyss with his free hand.

“I wake up from it every day, so if its not a dream I have no idea what it is,” Danny replied. “And as for the other question…” He lifted his own free hand up to the back of his neck, scratching it anxiously. “Well, I never really looked.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been showing up in a mysterious black void, with someone you’ve never met before, and you just sat there?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Danny raised both of his hands in protest. Both his and Jason’s eyes went to their hands, still joined together, before they both hurriedly let go. Danny felt a cold blush travel across his cheeks, and pointedly tried to ignore it. “I wasn’t going to just leave you alone here. What if something happened? Or what if you woke up by yourself?” His words did not help his blush.

“Well,” Jason said. He cleared his throat into his hand before continuing. “I’m awake now, so do you want to take a look around?” Danny nodded.

It was odd, walking through the void. Danny figured it worked a bit like his intangibility and flight worked in his ghost form; if he thought he could walk on the floor, he could. If he thought the floor didn’t exist, or existed lower, it did. He was happy that he didn’t have to deal with that before he’d had a bit of practice with his powers. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Jason, especially since the other boy didn’t seem to have any issues with walking around.

They walked in comfortable silence for the first couple of minutes, until Danny eventually broke it. “So, what’s with the get up?”

Jason looked at him confused for a moment, before glancing down at himself and swearing. “Um. I’m a. Cosplayer?”

Even if the excuse hadn’t been a stuttered through, half baked answer, Danny knew he was lying. Something inside of him (That same something settled under his chest.) seemed to vibrate. He couldn’t explain how he knew that it meant that Jason was lying, but he did. “Uhuh. Do you want to try again with a little more honesty this time?”

Jason pointedly did not meet his eyes. “I’m not lying.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, keep your secrets. I get it. At least tell me something else about yourself.”

“I like to read,” Jason said after a moment.

“Yea? Why’s that?”

“That’s an odd follow up question to that,” Jason ran a hand through his hair as he thought. “I guess it just wasn’t something I got to do a lot when I was younger. When I had to chance to, it was always peaceful, which is something I didn’t get a lot of.”

Danny nodded. “I can relate to that. It’s part of the reason I like the stars so much. It was one of the few times my parents would shut up about ghosts, was when we were out camping. The rest of the trip would be ghost hunting, of course, but the few hours before we actually went to sleep we’d just watch the stars as a family.”

“Ghosts, huh? Ever find any?”

“Unfortunately.” Danny sighed. “We never used to, of course, but then they finished their magnum opus, a portal to the Ghost Zone, and suddenly there’s ghosts everywhere. And you’ll never guess who gets to clean up all the messes.”

Jason tapped his chin in thought. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say that the vague memories I have of a lady throwing glowing green meat at you is not some fucked up game you played earlier?”

Danny laughed. “Bingo! Got it in one.”

The two continued to chat amicably as they walked through the void, conversation flowing easily between them even as their surroundings remained completely static. The conversation was cut off abruptly by the blaring sound of Danny’s alarm clock, and Jason’s face faded from his view as he opened bleary eyes to glare at it. He thought he heard the faint echoes of Jason’s voice in his ears, words indistinct under the beeping, and by the time he’d shut off the alarm, the voice had disappeared.

Danny yawned and ran a hand through his hair, before moving on with his day.

— Jason was floating cross legged, as Danny had done so many times before, when Danny fell asleep that night. Their eyes met, and Danny didn’t bother to suppress the smile that split his face.

“Given new information, I’m gonna have to double down on this not being a dream,” Jason said, straightening his legs so he was standing on the same plane as Danny was.

“Well hello Jason, it’s nice to see you again, how was your day?” Danny said, lacing his voice with as much sarcasm as he could muster. Given how shit his day had been, it was a lot.

“Considering I spent my whole day watching what I presume was yours? Not great.”

Danny pulled a face. “Can’t say it was one of my best days, but I’ve had worse.”

Jason snorted. “Well, I feel confident in saying that the wall you flew into probably hasn’t.”

“I’d be concerned if it had,” Danny sat down next to Jason. “So, what, because you saw my day you don’t think this is a dream? Is that what you’re getting at?”

Jason nodded. “Pretty much. If it was a dream, all of this would disappear as soon as you wake up, right? Well, I didn’t. So it's not a dream.”

“Well, maybe that’s what happens to dream people, did you ever think about that?” Danny retorted. “Maybe all the people from every dream just watch your life. Forever.”

“Cause that’s not ominous at all.”

“Yea, well, there’s been a lot of ominous information lately, who's to say this isn’t something else that can be added to the pile?” Danny asked.

Jason hummed, eyes narrowing in thought. “We could test it,” he said eventually.

Danny looked over at him. “And how would we do that? Because I already did the pinch test. Couldn’t feel a thing.”

“Kinda like how you didn’t break every bone in your body when you nearly broke through a solid brick wall?” Jason asked with a smirk.

Danny went to shove Jason’s shoulder, but paused with his hand raised. “You know what, that’s a good point.”

“I tend to have a lot of those,” Jason said. He batted away Danny’s hand. “No, I was thinking, if I told you something that you can check, something that you would have absolutely no way of knowing, than you couldn’t claim that this was all just a dream. You’d have to admit that this is real.”

“That’s as good an idea as any,” Danny replied after a moment. “So what fun and exciting fact do you have for me?”

“Know anything about Gotham?”

Danny shook his head. “Not outside of the fact it's where that one guy is supposed to be, right? Ratman, or something.”

Jason laughed, a full laugh that had him doubling over. It was a good laugh, Danny decided. “I mean, you aren’t that far off.” Jason said after he caught his breath. “Bats, rats, they’re both vermin, and they’re both all over Gotham.”

“I’ve never been huge into the superhero stuff,” Danny said with a laugh of his own. “Tucker likes them though. Blame him for my lack of knowledge.”

Jason shook his head. “That made my day, no blaming necessary.”

“So, was the fact something to do with the Pest Patrol Gotham has, or…?” Danny asked with a smirk. Jason started laughing again, which was good. It was Danny’s goal after all.

“No, the fact is that there’s a neighborhood called Crime Alley. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. Almost all official records call it Park Row, since that's what tourists, government officials, and rich snobs call it. If you’ve never been to Gotham, you wouldn’t have much reason to know it as Crime Alley.”

“That’ll work,” Danny replied.

“You shouldn’t have to dig too far to find anyone calling it that, but don’t be surprised if the first couple sources just say Park Row,” Jason added. “Like I said, rich assholes. Their voices always push the farthest.”

“I’ll get Tucker to dig into it,” Danny said. “I’m pretty sure he can find anything if it exists online.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jason stood, and held his hand out to Danny. “Now, since we have so much time to kill, why don’t we try and help you not face plant into any more walls?”

Danny took his hand and floated to his feet. “Like you could do any better.”

Jason smiled deviously. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Danny returned the smile. “I think it does.

— The flying practice did not work for a number of reasons. The first was that, for all intents and purposes, it was a dream; the floor didn’t exist if they didn’t want it to, and the same seemed to go for gravity, on both of their parts. Danny also was just better at his abilities in the dream; they came naturally to him, like breathing did. (He didn’t think about how breathing had become less and less instinctual recently. He had been avoiding thinking about that since the “accident”.) There also weren't any walls for him to avoid hitting.

That hadn’t stopped it from being fun. Jason and he had spent most of the night flying after each other in a scuffed game of tag that involved far more tackling than any game Danny had ever played. Jason had been absolutely viscous, moving in ways that Danny hadn’t even realized were possible, and with a reaction speed to match.

To put it lightly, Danny lossed. Horribly and spectacularly.

That didn’t stop him from waking up well rested and practically floating with how light his heart. Actually, he was floating, his blanket hanging off of his legs and the bed a good foot and a half below him.

His first reaction was to panic, as he had almost every time he’d woken up to this type of thing happening. But it hadn’t helped any of the other times, so Danny locked his joints against his instinct to flail. He took a deep breath, and focused.

Flying in his dreams was instinctual. He was able to turn and twist in the air with barely a thought. He had never been able to do that when he was awake, could barely get himself to go forward when he wasn’t under extreme duress. (He heard a voice in his head, not quite his own thoughts, not quite Jason’s voice. Wasn’t it interesting that the only time he could do this was when he wasn’t thinking about it?

Danny let out a shaky breath, and let his mind wander. He let his joints unlock, let his muscles untense. Slowly, he floated to the floor, the blanket falling to the ground as his feet touched down lightly. He was only able to get one fist pump of celebration off before Jazz was hammering at his door, calling that he had ten minutes unless he wanted to walk to school. He hurried over to his dresser. He didn’t need to look out his window to hear the rain falling, and didn’t quite feel like walking much of anywhere in it.

— “Hey, Tucker?” Danny asked around the ham sandwich he’d grabbed for lunch. Tucker, whose mouth was currently full, made some kind of noise. Danny took it as acknowledgement. “Would you be able to get me some information on something?”

Tucker swallowed and rolled his eyes. “Would I be able to.” He scoffed. “What do you take me for? Of course I can find you information. So, what do you need?”

“Just need to know a bit about this place in Gotham, called Park Row.”

Tucker narrowed his eyes at Danny, before a mischievous knowing smile spread across his face. He leaned closer to Danny over the table. “Oh? And why would you need to know about that?”

Danny shrugged. “No real reason, just need to check something.”

“And this no reason wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a particular goth’s upcoming birthday, would it?” Tucker looked pointedly at Sam’s currently empty seat. Danny opened and closed his mouth looking for an answer, but Tucker started talking again before he could. “As long as you let me ride the gift with you, I’ll get you your information. Are we getting parent’s permission? Who am I kidding, of course we’re not, they would never agree to let us go by ourselves.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny said as Tucker took another huge bite of his sandwich and fished out his PDA.

At least Tucker swallowed this time. “Sam’s birthday is coming up soon, and you know she’d love to see Gotham. Gargoyles everywhere, and an ecoterrorist supervillain? You want to take her there, and I’m going to help you because I am the best friend in the world and can figure out any information for you ever. As long as its online.” Tucker paused to type something in, before continuing. “And because I can’t figure out what to get Sam. She’d chew me out if I tried to buy her anything, so I’ve been lost for weeks.”

“Yea, that’s true,” Danny said with a laugh. He vaguely remembered Sam saying something about liking Gotham’s architecture, but couldn’t remember anything else from the conversation. “So, did you find anything?”

“How long do you think it takes to find information like this?” Tucker leveled a look at him. Danny held his hands up in mock defeat, before Tucker grinned at him. “Because it takes about that long. I don’t think Park Row’s the place for us dude. It’ll definitely be cheap, but its not for a reason we want to deal with, y’know? I’m seeing a lot of native Gothamites calling it Crime Alley, and it seems like it got that name for a reason.”

Tucker spun the PDA to face Danny, where a series of news articles, detailing various crimes that had occurred in Park Row. Danny inhaled sharply through his teeth. Just like Jason had said, the places were one and the same. Which meant that Jason was right. That wasn’t a dream. Or it wasn’t all a dream, at least. Part of Danny was relieved; he didn’t want to hear what Jazz would have to say if he had actually been dreaming of the same boy every single night. Most of him was just worried. If Jason was an actual real person, what happened? Why was he essentially stuck in his head? As far as Danny could tell, Jason never woke up; he spent all of his time just spectating Danny’s life or in the voidscape with Danny. What had happened that caused this? And how could they undo it?

Danny snapped back into focus to Tucker saying his name. “Danny? You ok man?”

Danny offered a smile he hoped came off as relaxed. “Sorry, just lost in thought. What was that?”

“I was just asking if you want to look at plane tickets, if we’re talking your dad into a ghost hunting adventure, or if you’re flying us all there with your own two arms,” Tucker asked. “Because flights are not cheap, and no offense, but I saw that brick wall you ran into yesterday, and I don’t particularly want to experience it.”

“What, and you think you’ll hit less brick walls if we hitch a ride with my dad?” Danny asked.

“Touche.”

“Hey boys,” Sam said, sliding into her seat and grabbing her half eaten veggie wrap from where it sat. “What are we talking about?”

“Whose worse, Danny flying, or Jack Fenton behind the wheel?” Tucker said before Danny could stop him.

Sam didn’t hesitate before answering. “Jack, for sure.” She took a bite and finished chewing before continuing. “But I think that’s more the fact that Jack has more things he can hit. There are less obstacles in the air for Danny to hit.”

“Guys!” Danny whined. “Why do you have to do this here?”

“Please, do you think any of these meatheads are paying attention to us?” Sam scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “The only time they care about us is when they want to shove you into a locker.”

“Like now!” Tucker said, pointing behind Danny’s shoulder. Danny didn’t even get the chance to turn around before he heard Dash’s footsteps, quickly followed by Dash’s voice.

“Hey Fenturd! You got my lunch money?” Dash rested his hand on Danny’s shoulder, gripping tight enough that it should have hurt. It didn’t.

“I brought lunch today Dash, I don’t have any money on me,” Danny said, turning around to look Dash in the eyes.

Dash sneered. “Yeah, should’ve expected that. It’s not like your lame ass parents have real jobs. You know what happens when you don’t have any money though, don’t you Fentina?”

“Let me guess. You’re going to do the same tired routine you’ve done every day since 7th grade?” Danny asked. “You should really get more creative with it, but I get that that’s hard for you.”

Dash’s face went red. “Why I oughta-”

Danny cut him off. “C’mon, shove me in a locker already. You’re running out of time, lunch’ll be over in like, 10 minutes.” Just like Danny expected, Dash dragged him out the cafeteria doors. He flashed a signal at Sam and Tucker, one they had come up with that meant for them to meet outside. A few seconds later, and he was shoved in a locker, Dash’s laughter retreating back towards the cafeteria. It took Danny longer to get his body to cooperate, but within another minute he’d phased invisibly through the lockers and into the hall.

He was sitting on the steps to Casper High when Sam and Tucker made their way out. “One of these days,” he said, kicking at a loose piece of concrete from the stairs. “I’m going to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“You could totally do that now,” Tucker said, flopping down next to Danny.

“I’m all for direct action,” Sam said. She remained standing as she took another bite of her veggie wrap. “I just think that your direct action shouldn’t involve these powers that you still can’t use right.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Danny protested.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Float to the top of the flagpole and back down without flipping upside down, rocketing into the sky, or plummeting to the ground then.”

“I’m not going to do that. Someone might see!”

Sam gestured with her free hand at the empty courtyard. “No one’s out here cause it's been absolutely soaked from the rain this morning. You’ll be fine, now c'mon. Or can you just not do it?”

Danny set his face. He could never walk away from a dare. (It was how he ended up in the portal. It was how he ended up in this mess.) Sam knew that. With a sigh, he started to follow the same steps he had this morning. He let his mind wander, eyes open but largely unfocused on the world around him, muscles loose and joints unlocked. He didn’t think about going to the top of the flagpole, just like he hadn’t focused on walking out of the building. He floated steadily up to the sopping wet flag, touched it, and floated back down to where he had been sitting prior.

He grinned victoriously at Sam, before wiping his gross wet hand on her skirt. “What was that for!” She protested.

“For daring me to go up there in the first place. You just wanted to see me fail,” Danny said. He wiped his hand on Tucker’s beret too.

“I didn’t say anything!” Tucker yelled, yanking his hat away from Danny as quickly as he could and checking it over for marks.

“But you were thinking it,” Danny said.

“What, can we add mind reading to your new list of abilities?” Sam said.

“No, I just know you two.”

“Sap.” Sam took the final bite of her wrap. “When’d you get a chance to get so good at that, anyway? When you tried yesterday, you were stuck floating upside down by your sneaker until you rammed into that wall.”

“Can we stop bringing up the wall! Please!” Danny complained. “If I have to hear one more person bring up that wall I’m going to lose it!”

“Hmm,” Sam said. She looked at Tucker. “Do you think we should stop bringing up the wall?”

Tucker stroked his four facial hairs thoughtfully. “We could. We could talk about that time last week that he dropped five glass vials in fifteen minutes.”

“Or about that time that he tripped over his own shoelaces and face planted into an ant hole,” Sam added.

“Or what about that time that he tried to prove he was the coolest by eating more hot dogs than me and he could barely get three down before he vomited?”

“Or what about when he tried to dye his hair blonde to win over Paulina in 8th grade”

“Or when-”

“I get it!” Danny interrupted. “You can keep talking about the wall, you don’t have to bring up all of that!”

“That’s what I thought.” Sam crossed her arms smugly. “So, flying. Did you practice?”

“Something like that,” Danny mumbled.

“What do you mean something like that?” Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

The muffled sound of the lunch bell came from Casper High. “I’ll have to tell you after school!” Danny said far too quickly. “I’ll talk to you then!” He bolted up the stairs, not waiting to hear their answer.

[hailsatanacab]

close enough to be whole again || chapter 18

🎊 new chapter update new chapter update new chapter update 🎊

[phantomskeep]

Putting the “Fun” Back in “Funeral”: Chapter Two

AO3 Link | Chapter One --- Chapter Three

Chapter Two:  A King, a Clock, a Bird, and a Bat All Walk Into a Bar…

Well after the last echoes of the haunting song had faded from the Zone, Danny could be found in his newly acquired throne room with Clockwork - who was radiating so much pride it almost physically hurt. The older ghost was turned towards Danny, gently bobbing up and down in front of the large chair he insisted Danny sat on. Between finishing the coronation and now, hours had long since passed. This time was spent dancing amongst his people, accepting handshakes left and right, brushing his aura of happiness-I love you all-you are under my protection against the many ghosts around him. While Danny’s inner introvert was cringing at the social interaction, the man could not say he would have traded it for anything in the world. It was downright magical to be surrounded by such pure, unfiltered joy for hours on end. Danny was sure he could have spent the rest of his half-life happily mingling with the many spooks who resided in the Ghost Zone. However, when Pandora’s strong hand rested against his bicep and her soothing voice whispered that Clockwork was waiting for him inside the Keep, Danny reluctantly had to leave.

While the ghost may have been the Master of Time, the young king had learned over the past few years that it did not make him the Master of Patience.

So Danny had hurriedly entered his ugly new haunt and found himself ushered to sit on the throne that was now his. Much like the rest of the castle, Danny considered the throne to be quite an eyesore. It wasn’t gaudy enough to be made of bones, or skulls, or whatever typical “Throne of the Dead King” Danny was expecting it to be. Rather, the dark wooden chair was adorned with an ectoplasm green cushion. Carvings of the royal artifacts were ingrained in the backing of the wooden throne, and the armrests were plain squares. It wasn’t something that was overly horrible to look at, but it simply didn’t suit Danny’s tastes.

While Danny was pondering the new furniture of his humble abode, Clockwork floated in front of the young king. The time-themed ghost cleared his throat to get the other’s attention.

“King Phantom,” he started, ignoring Danny’s protesting noises. “I wanted to officially welcome you into the era of Phantom’s Reign.”

A small smile graced Danny’s lips as he bowed his head to acknowledge his mentor. “Thank you, Clockwork. I know I can count on you to help my era to be one of peace and prosperity.” The young man leaned back on his throne, wanting to splay out like a lazy cat. “Is there something you wanted to talk about? I was actually enjoying socializing, for once.”

Danny’s mentor let out a small chuckle, his forms changing as he spoke. “But of course, my King. I merely wanted to inquire what you would do next?”

“... What do you mean, Clockwork?” Danny’s hesitantly confused voice echoed eerily across the grand room, as he cautiously rose from his slouch.

“Are you finally going to tell your friends and family?”

The King of the Infinite Realms snapped to attention, eyes boring holes into his mentor. Muscles were tensed, faux-breathing completely stilled, as Danny forced out his response. “Tell them what, exactly.”

“That you are not only the King of the Realms, but also a member of it.” Clockwork’s voice took on more of his lecturing-tone as he spoke. “Danny, you have been dead for seven years. Is it not time your parents knew?”

The young man rose from his seat, starting to pace the large room. His star-laden cloak hissed against the dark cobblestone as Danny’s frustrated body warred between ‘fight’ and ‘flight’. It was when he stalled beneath a worn tapestry depicting a battle between Pariah Dark and an unknown ghost that Danny spoke.

“It’s not their burden to know,” he said, trying to will wisdom into his still-young voice. “My parents, if they didn’t try to rip me apart ‘molecule by molecule’, they would be destroyed if they realized their greatest achievement killed their greatest failure.” Danny’s hands shook as he spoke and he tried to steady them by gripping the sill of one of the many windows along the grand hall he was in. The young man cast his eyes upwards, distantly taking in the faux-stars made of stained glass, before resting his heavy gaze on the thousands of souls still celebrating his crowning.

“Everyone else,” he sighed, voice barely a whisper, “they all have their own lives. My friends don’t need my fucked-up half-life ruining theirs.”

Clockwork’s aura of disapproval grew closer to Danny, but he didn’t dare look at his mentor. He’s heard this oncoming lecture so many times the young king was sure he would be able to quote it. Nonetheless, when Clockwork opened an arm out to his apprentice, Danny gratefully leaned into the older ghost’s embrace.

“You know what I am going to tell you,” Clockwork murmured. “So I won’t. But I can tell you, my King, that the option to not explain to your inner circle is a good one. For the timeline, for you, for your reign.”

Danny just about cried when he felt Clockwork’s hand brushing gently against his hair. It had been so long since he last felt safe in his own father’s embrace - his old memories and fears were simply too much for him to ever be comfortable again. It’s why Danny rejected the idea of him telling his parents of his other half so harshly. Even the thought of the people who raised him (even if it really was more Jazz than them) refusing to have a relationship with Danny hurt. Danny loved his family and friends more than anything else. He loved them so much that he was willing to rip himself apart in order to not drown in the pain-sorrow-grief that haunted his every waking moment. The thought of Danny losing them again? Even if it was through them rejecting all of him?

The young king wasn’t sure anything could survive that level of grief. 

“What should I do, then?” Danny asked weakly, wanting to bury himself in his pseudo-father’s embrace and hide himself from the world.

An echoing sigh hummed against Danny. A familiar aura of you are loved-nothing will hurt you-I will guide you soothed the trembling anxiety-grief-not again pouring off of Danny’s shaken form. “There are two options that would be best,” Clockwork began. “The first is you travel back to your home dimension and explain everything to the humans you hold so dearly. Or,” the old ghost continued before Danny could voice his protests. “There is another dimension that has been feeding off of the Realms. Artifacts of our powers have fallen through, the dead have risen, and there have been reported leaks of ectoplasm bleeding into their reality. I was going to suggest you send another ghost to clean up these issues, but I also believe you can benefit from a… sabbatical, of sorts, into this dimension.”

This information whirled around Danny’s head. The years of kingly training helped the king to mentally organize everything and sort through it all. It was not a fast process, by any means, but Danny had gotten quicker at picking up the important bits over the years. However, one thing stood out to him the most.

“What about Amity Park and my friends? My family?”

The older ghost squeezed Danny firmly against his side when the halfa tried to pull away from his mentor. “Amity Park will be the same when you return, though maybe a week or two later in the timeline. But if you decide to take up the hunting of artifacts I can alter when you go back into your original dimension with ease.”

“That won’t hurt the timeline?” Danny asked, incredulous. “The Observants were on my ass the last time you altered everything for me!”

Clockwork’s laugh startled Danny enough that he fazed out of the blue ghost’s hug. The young man stared at the now-child in front of him, mouth gaping.

While Clockwork was easily something of a father-figure to Danny, the halfa also had been trying to get the ghost to laugh as much as possible for the past five years. From his best puns, to funny situations, and even on one memorable occasion, a drunken rant about the benefits to petting ducks in the park, Danny had only gotten a fond chuckle out of the Master of Time.

A sarcastic reference to the Observants trying to murder Danny should not have made Clockwork laugh.

Danny eyed the other with obvious suspicion. “What’s funny about that?”

The older’s form aged up as his chuckles died down. “You simply reminded me of when the Observants came to me about this very issue.” Clockwork loosened the grip on his staff and used it to lazily gesture towards Danny’s throne. “They came to me months ago, warning me of how our timeline was going down the most horrible path. Danny Phantom, a half-dead ghost child with too much power taking the throne? It was something out of a nightmare for them.”

When Danny’s eyes flitted nervously downwards, his body unconsciously curling in a defensive motion, Clockwork used his staff to gently lift his king’s head. Pupilless red eyes met burning green, and a comforting expression graced the middle-aged ghost’s face. “My King, they were very wrong. This is the best possible timeline - one with such a powerful king who wishes only for peace? Whose Obsession isn’t one of power, or rage, or a burning greed, but of protection? Danny, this is the best timeline, the best era - and it is because of you. The Observants are correct with many of their findings, but they can make mistakes like any other being. Their power resides in control.” Here Clockwork paused, a mirthful feeling brushing against Danny’s calming one. “This is something I know you are very aware of. They fear the lack of control they will have during this timeline. It was their goal to gain control of the throne through you, but I’ve made sure the Observants failed every time.” 

Danny’s eyes widened, a small gasp escaping his lips. Tears welled in his expressive eyes as he tackled his mentor into a monkey-gripped hug. The older ghost chuckled, easily returning the embrace. His form shifted, aging quickly as he ran time-wrinkled hands along the young king’s back.

“I had suggested a boarding school, of sorts.” Clockwork whispered into his apprentice’s hair. “A chance for you to go and stretch your proverbial wings. This other dimension has an old friend of mine who has offered to continue with your teachings, and the Earth there has many different protectors you can learn from. Of course, there are still duties you will need to attend to.” The old ghost broke from Danny’s clinging hug, looking the twenty-one year old king in his eyes. “It will be dangerous. There are many different forces who now have their eyes on you, my King. But know that if you choose to go this route, you will always be able to access the Infinite Realms and the dimensions attached to her.”

Danny discreetly wiped his eyes, nodding in agreement with Clockwork. A burning determination danced in his eyes as Danny’s gaze steadfastly stared into his most trusted advisor’s. “I need to explain things to my family, at least a little bit. Tell them I’m going on a mission for you at the very least - but I’ll be back. I’ll go to this other dimension and do what I can to be a better king for my people.”

The Master of Time nodded his head, his reaching aura’s booming with pride. “My dear child, just saying that makes you a much better ruler than those before you.”

ρ(￣ﾍ￣ ﾒ)

Clockwork watched as Danny Phantom flew off into the great green abyss of the Infinite Realms. The old ghost was left alone in the Ghost King’s Keep, watching as Pariah Dark’s influence on the castle slowly faded. Dark reds bled into cooler tones, the brickwork shifting from harsh lines to smoother, more comforting cuts. Time passed as the Master of Time watched. The sounds of celebration had yet to slow down after the many hours ticked away. Clockwork knew that if Danny’s coronation was anything like Pariah Dark’s, the denizens of the Realms would party for weeks on end.

However, instead of joining in the festivities like the others on the Council of Ancients, the time ghost had another important meeting to attend. Clockwork allowed the quick passage of time to overcome his form, aging him down like an ancient phoenix recently reborn from its own ashes. His young body turned to face the newest ghost king’s throne as a maelstrom of blue energy rapidly criss-crossed around his form. Wild winds whipped Clockwork’s pale purple cloak as a dark clock’s hand appeared behind him, sweeping in a large clockwise motion to reveal a swirling blue and teal portal. The sound of an old grandfather clock being struck echoed hauntingly across the empty room of Phantom’s Keep as the hands reached the metaphorical twelfth numeral. When the clock-hands began their descent backwards in time, the Master of Time was swept under them, disappearing into the portal of his own creation. The hands again struck the midnight position with the last thrum of a dull, heavy, monotonous clang - once again leaving the now-empty room with the wistful cry of an old clock.

On a different world - one full of heroes, aliens, and otherworldly forces fighting vicious battles for justice -, a smog-filled city held within the dark heart of an old ghost was just starting to awaken. When Clockwork’s portal faded from view, time snapped back into place. Loud honking filled his ears as the Master of Time floated above a striking clock tower, his back turned to the ever-moving bay that lapped at the shores of such an inspiring city. A low voice caught Clockwork’s attention, but he did not turn to face the ghost.

“Perfect timing as always, Clockwork.” The voice was lofty, easily gliding over syllables with an ease born of hundreds of years.

The purple-cloaked ghost tilted his head in a small greeting, his words spilling past smiling lips. “As always, Lady Gotham, it is my pleasure to be welcomed into your haunt.”

Lady Gotham’s sentient spirit was a dark amalgamation of vapors pouring off a vaguely-tangible, constantly shifting body made of pure black. The spirit’s form twisted herself to be seen on the edges of Clockwork’s vision. The Master of Time allowed himself to miss the olden days for a brief moment, back when Gotham’s form was more solid. Those days were long gone, however, and Clockwork moved himself past the thoughts of an old mind.

“My friend, you know you are always welcomed into my city,” Gotham spoke, though no mouth formed. Her eyes, red and pupiless like his own, stretched across where her face currently was. “It is not like I am able to visit your own lair, after all.”

Clockwork’s head shifted to the side, and he thought carefully before he spoke. “With King Phantom officially on the throne, Pariah Dark’s banishments are no longer being upheld. You are more than welcome into the Realms, my Lady.”

A low snarl echoed across the clock tower the two ecto-entities graced. In the sun’s first rays of light Clockwork was subjected to see his old friend’s form writhe in her fury.

“Never,” she growled, “not until all of his influence is gone.”

Clockwork nodded in agreement. “I will let you know when that is.” He promised, pausing again. “The coronation was a sight to see,” the old ghost broached the topic carefully. “I had not seen the people so happy since…”

Clockwork let his voice trail off, now looking at Gotham’s form.

“… I felt it,” she spoke. “And so did one of my own.” Her eyes cast over the brightening city, to the northeast where even now Clockwork could barely feel the smallest of souls touched by the Infinite Realms resting. “It was wonderful.”

“That it was.”

The city spirit floated contently for a brief period before breaking the comfortable silence between the two old ghosts. “I take it our young king has agreed to your offer?”

The Master of Time smiled at the thought of his young ward. “But of course. He does seem to love procrastinating on some of the oddest things.”

Gotham’s laugh echoed across the pink-blue skies rolling over the normally gray city. “Well, knowing the last royal I spent my time around, it may just be a trait of the Realms’ Rulers.” She paused, taking a moment to let grief wash her beautiful city in a brief moment of hiding the rising sun behind a low-hanging cloud. “But that is all the more reason to send him my way.”

“Of course,” Clockwork agreed. “Hopefully young Danny can learn many new skills while he stays in your care, my friend. I worry about his ties to his human half… He did not even tell his living friends and family about the coronation.”

Lady Gotham shook her form, wisps of rolling fog and thunder floating off her form. “That simply will not do. He will learn well, under my teachings. This dimension is not an easy one to survive in - but I promise you, Master of Time, that he will thrive here.” 

The older ghost smiled at his friend, speaking with a confidence only the seeing-eye of the Ghost Realm could muster. “I know he will.” He cast his red gaze out over the city Gotham had come to call home. “It had changed since I was last here,” he murmured. Clockwork could recall when he first entered this dimension - though by the time he arrived, decades had already passed for his friend. Gotham had been a small city then, easily growing under the influence of the town’s ghostly namesake. Since then, it seemed to have bloomed under Lady Gotham’s steady care, turning into a gothic city worthy of its name and its protector.

“That it has.” Gotham easily agreed, red eyes blinking. She slowly turned to face Clockwork, speaking in a careful tone. “Our newest king…” She began, hesitant. “Is he anything like her?”

Clockwork nodded, a sad look upon his ancient face. “In the best ways, my Lady.” He placed a comforting arm on her ever-changing form. “Will you be okay with this?”

A dark, foggy head nodded. “But of course.” A sheepish feeling brushed the edges of Clockwork’s consciousness. “I have had my people preparing for his stay, after all. I am very eager to meet the Realm’s Chosen - even more so after such a wonderful coronation.”

“Ah, yes,” Clockwork began, eyes drifting to where he could feel the smallest spark of a young ghost residing just within reach of Gotham’s grasp. “Is your ward doing well, after such a shock?”

Gotham’s tingling laugh echoed across the various buildings. Her laugh sounded like a train’s track nearing its final destination after a long journey. Relief, excitement, and a vague sense of world-weary exhaustion all rolled into an amalgamation of who she had chosen to become after so many decades away from the Realms. “My little knight is just fine,” she eased away from her laughter, a particular fondness overtaking her being. “He has dealt with so much more than a night of unexpected peace. I dare say it will be good for him.”

An ancient feeling of relief brushed against Gotham’s abashed form.

“I am glad to hear that.” Clockwork met Gotham’s eyes with a cunning smile. “The timestream has many plans for your knight, my Lady. He and our King will become quite the force to be reckoned with.”

“I have a feeling,” Gotham started, protectiveness riling her up. “That they will have a need to become such a power, what with everything you’ve been hinting at for nearly half a decade.”

Reassurance collided against Gotham like a tidal wave, making her form waver for just a split second. A particularly bad car accident occurred on the west side of the island in retaliation amidst Gotham’s wavering focus.

She turned with a snarl, looking to physically tell Clockwork off for his little games. “Do not do that again, Clockwork.” Gotham threatened, body becoming spiked in her anger much like a startled cat. “I am not as strong as I once was. It would do you well to remember that.”

“My apologies, Lady Gotham,” Clockwork started. He brushed the smallest hint of please forgive me-I am sorry against her bristling fury. “I forgot. It will not happen again.”

“It would do you well not to.”

Clockwork paused, glancing at one of the many clocks adorning his forearms. “I merely meant to let you know nothing unsavory will happen to your knight, nor the Crowned Head. Nothing that is not meant to be.” He looked at Lady Gotham’s glowering form. “I must be getting back to the Realms. Our king is almost ready to begin his time here, and I must guide him for a little bit longer before he comes into your capable care.”

Gotham snorted, an amused noise that helped to ease the tension between the two ancient powers. “But of course. Go, Master of Time. See to it that I am able to meet my new ward soon.”

“As you wish, my Lady.” Clockwork said, bending the upper half of his body in a motion of respect towards the younger ghost. With a dramatic wash of teal, Gotham was left alone.

It was there, on the roof of part of her knight’s many lairs that were scattered throughout her city, that Gotham let herself feel hope. For the first time since she had been banished from the Infinite Realms, Lady Gotham would finally be able to fulfill her final promise to her beloved Queen.

＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ ）／

Jason’s day was no longer going pretty okay. His head throbbed between the foreign feelings spreading throughout his broad chest, only to be soothed by the cool air circulating around the teal-eyed man. His hands gripped soft sheets, breathing deliberately even. The echoing noises around Jason helped his groggy mind understand that he was not alone in the room. Slowly, he lifted his heavy eyelids and cast his gaze throughout the medical room he found himself in. It was when Jason’s eyes landed on the hunched over form of one Dick Grayson - still in his Nightwing uniform, barring his domino mask - that the undead young man relaxed.

From where Jason laid, he could see that Dick was not fully asleep. Dick’s breathing was nowhere near shallow enough for the older man to be off in dreamland. However, Jason heavily suspected his brother was dozing and would wake with the most uncomfortable crick in his neck.

It was then that Jason took stock of his memories, and himself, a bit more thoroughly. A fuzzy feeling lingered on the edges of his vision, and Jason was sure that if he tried to move any of his limbs their response would be slow. His memories were overridden by this same inconvenience - meaning that until anything was confirmed by his overly-paranoid family, Jason needed to assume he was drugged. Judging by Dick’s dirtied uniform, Jason could then conclude he was drugged while on a mission of some sort.

But the self-proclaimed zombie, for the life of him, could not remember anything past reading the the thirteenth canto of Dante’s Inferno. Jason could vaguely recall being pulled from Dante and Virgil’s grand adventure for something that was important - at least for the standards of the various bats and birds encroaching his precious time.

However, Jason’s thought process is interrupted by an undignified snort coming from the corner where Dick had previously been slumped over. The younger of the two raised an eyebrow in a practiced motion, eyeing the unmasked Nightwing as he startled himself awake. But, despite his less-than-graceful awakening, Dick Grayson was still a Bat. There were no flailing limbs, or graceless falling out of comfortable chairs. Instead, Dick’s head simply snapped up and his eyes immediately locked with Jason’s own.

“You’re awake!” The original Robin exclaimed, hurriedly standing and moving towards Jason’s bedside. “How are you feeling, Jay?”

Jason’s only response was to slowly hike his eyebrow higher. To himself, he would admit that he was a bit scared of what embarrassing confessions would slip past his drug-induced loose lips. Out loud, however, he would forever deny any such claims.

Dick paused, taking in his wayward brother’s appearance and sassy eyebrow. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.” Bracing one of his muscular hips on Jason’s bed, the older man leaned down into the crime lord’s space. “You doing okay, though?”

Thinking heavily about his words, Jason carefully replied. “Everthin’ feels weir’.” The man grimaced at himself, working his jaw against the sudden stiffness he felt from speaking. “Th’ fuck happene’?”

A worried frown graced Dick’s usually smiling face, arms moving to cross at his chest. Jason’s brain struggled to try and read the body language presented to him, but it was a difficult task when his two working braincells decided to give their undivided attention to his slurring speech.

“We’re not too sure, Little Wing,” frustration painted Dick’s voice. “We were doing that drug bust when you suddenly went down. It was like you were drunk, out of the blue.”

“Did’ja check m’ cam footage?”

“That’s just it!” Dick exclaimed, uncrossing his arms to gesture with his hands. “There was nothing!”

Before Jason could continue to clumsily question Dick, the thick wooden door to the medical room opened. Tim’s head popped into Jason’s view, a determined frown on his face.

“Jason’s awake?” He asked, his sharp gaze met Jason’s own hazy one, responding to himself before the other occupants of the room could reply. “Okay, great. Blood panel was just finished, I’m gonna go grab the others to update them.”

And just like that, Tim’s form disappeared from view. An exasperated silence filled the air between Jason and Dick, both men locking eyes with similar looks on their faces.

“He’s on his third day without sleep,” Dick said as explanation.

Jason rolled his eyes, a small smirk overtaking his expression. “I couldn’ tell.” Sitting up was a Herculean task, but one Jason accomplished before Dick could stop him. Jason’s legs were very much deadweight, so he didn’t even attempt to try and stand. However, while Jason had gotten much more comfortable being around his family without blowing up on them (sometimes literally), the thought of lying flat on his back while they crowded him made his skin crawl. Unlike previous encounters with such a situation, though, Jason noticed a distinct lack of hazy green rage clouding his mind. Instead, all he could feel was an unearthly touch of content sitting heavily on his broad chest. Despite that, his head still felt heavier than it should, causing his vision to sway dangerously as Jason steadied himself.

Dick, the absolute mother hen, squawked in protest when his little brother started shifting himself around the bed. He anxiously hovered his hands around Jason, not getting close enough to spook his trigger-happy sibling, but still within the vicinity to help.

“You do know there’s a button to push the bed up, Jay.” Dick says in a strangled voice.

“An’ I have abs tha’ do the same exac’ th’ng.” Jason huffed, working said muscles to try and stay upright without leaning on anything. His attempts were proven futile, however, when Dick simply pressed one of the buttons on Bruce’s unnecessarily high-tech beds. “Fuckin’ fancy-ass rich bastar’s.”

A strangled chuckle left Dick as he heavily sat down near Jason’s feet, black and blue fingers lightly putting pressure around his ankle. “Amen to that.”

Jason couldn’t help but grin at his brother, still out of it enough to not be fully in control of his movements. It was like he kept swaying in and out of command of his own body. While he was actively using one brain cell to internally rage at the coddling Jason was currently receiving, his body just kept on floating up into the clouds without his say. To say the black-haired man did not like the state he was in would be an understatement.

This is why he avoided pain medicine, damn it.

Neither of the older men were able to continue their conversation, as they were interrupted with Tim opening the door again. However, this time he fully walked into the room. Behind him, a small army of Birds and Bats hovered, but only the big Bat himself followed his middle son into the room. 

Bruce, for all Jason was still on unstable ground with the man, was visibly stressed and tired. Dark bags rested under his sharp blue eyes, contrasting the man’s slowly forming wrinkles. None of this stopped him from confidently striding forward from behind Tim, only hesitating a little before standing on Jason’s left side - naturally falling into place between the door and his children.

It was Tim who had most of Jason’s attention, the younger man scrolling on the tablet that was often attached to his hands when not near a computer. He had said something earlier about blood panels - Jason took a quick glance at the crook of his arm, only being able to look at the forming bruise for a second before having to shift his gaze away - and the second eldest of way too many siblings was very interested in that information.

“Jason,” Bruce’s soothing voice rolled over the mentioned man in a way that had Jason fighting himself to not relax. He would not react in any way besides anger, no siree. Jason was still pissed off at Bruce and getting drugged on the field is not going to be the cause of them fixing their many problems. He had a plan and he was going to stick to it, damnit. “How are you feeling?”

Rolling his extra-heavy head onto his left shoulder, Jason gave his not-father the sassiest look he had. “L’ke I’v b’n drugge’ l’ke a b’tch,” purposefully slurring his words, Jason got the satisfaction of watching Bruce’s eyebrows pinch together and his frown deepen. A small swell of satisfaction nestled itself next to the growing ball of comfort deep within Jason.

A squeeze to his ankle was a silent warning from Dick to play nice, and for that he leveled a glare onto his older brother.

Tim passing his tablet to Bruce was the only indication any of them got before he steamrolled into an explanation. “So, we did a couple of blood tests. Nothing worrying came up on the toxicology report, so we can rule out poison, drugs, as well as anything from Ivy. However,” the most recent ex-Robin continued to talk with an increased volume when it looked like Dick was going to interrupt Tim’s TedTalk, “another blood panel showed the reason why Jason’s loopy.” Here, the little shit let a wide grin overtake his previously neutral expression. Jason tensed up more, preparing himself for the worst. “You’re basically high on your body’s own serotonin and dopamines.”

A silence permeated the room as all occupants stared at Tim in various forms of disbelief.

“What you’re saying,” Dick hesitantly spoke up, his grip becoming just a little tighter. “Is that Jason wasn’t drugged?”

Tim huffed, putting his hands up. “I don’t believe so, no. From what the reports showed Jason just got a sudden rush of happy hormones - enough to knock anyone down. His body just suddenly decided to make up for the past couple of years.” Tim’s smirk grew when he said this, and Jason realized with the agony of a man about to face his own death that he was never going to live this down.

“F’ck,” Jason mumbled. “Wh’n will i’ wear off?”

“Probably in a couple of hours, but we need to get you prepared for a crash.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce spoke now, eyes finally leaving the tablet screen to look at the computer-genius.

Tim rolled his eyes, his smug face finally going back into the same “report mode” anyone who worked with Bruce eventually developed. “He’s basically high right now, yeah? Jason had a foreign amount of hormones rush into his system. His body is producing all of them without being used to it - meaning nutrients are being eaten up and not getting replaced fast enough. There’s like an eighty-seven percent chance Jason’s gonna drop and continue to try to sleep it off.” A small baby scowl graced Tim’s face, “It’s on the report.”

Bruce raised one of his hands and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Right, right - can you go get Alfred and ask him to bring any needed equipment up to Jason’s room?”

“Wai’-” Jason protested, trying to jerk his body up. “‘M no’ goin’ up in’a tha manor.” He snarled a bit when Dick’s hands came up to placetate him, reaching for his familiar rage only to come up empty. “Take m’ t’ my apartmen’!”

“Absolutely not.” Bruce’s voice cut through any protests Jason voiced. “We still don’t know for sure if this wasn’t an attempt to drug the Red Hood. Until we know for sure why your body decided to produce these hormones you are staying in the manor.”

“No.” The word practically dripped malice, the teasing atmosphere Dick tried to cultivate snapping like an old rope under too much tension.

“You will be staying in the manor so we can monitor your condition.” Bruce said stubbornly, moving closer to Jason. “That is an order. One that will be followed.”

“Dick c’n monitor me ‘n my apartmen’ jus’ fine.” Jason protested, working extra carefully to keep his words from slurring. The fuzzy feeling was fading, but not nearly fast enough in the man’s personal tastes. Whatever happened, though - whether he really was drugged or if this was just an unexpected hormone uptick like Tim thought - he was not staying in the Wayne Manor.

“Jason-”

Said man harshly cut off Bruce, an ugly snarl on his face. “No. I am no’ stayin’ here. E’pecially after las’ time.”

“Bruce,” Dick cut in now, “I’ll keep an eye on Jason at his place. All he’s gonna be doing is sleeping.”

Bruce let out a low rumble of frustration. “We don’t know if this was intentional, or what caused this. Jason needs to be monitored.”

“An’ he will be. Wi’h Dickface.” Jason said, angry with Bruce talking about him like he wasn’t sitting right there.

“It’ll be fine.” Dick assured, hand never leaving Jason’s ankle. “I’ll take anything he might need back with us, I’ll keep an eye on him, and we won’t have any more incidents.”

“Besides,” Tim cut in, tired of not getting to say his piece. “None of the bodycam footage showed Jason getting hit by anything. We couldn’t find any puncture wounds, and his helmet filters out anything airborne and not approved.”

“Lis’en ta your lil’ birdie.” Jason said, aiming an unsteady glare at Bruce. The fight was slowly draining out of him, warm feelings rushing in to take the place of familiar anger. Jason was tired. He just wanted to curl up on his bed in his apartment, not anywhere near the manor.

Bruce glared at each of his children, causing Jason to gear up for another argument. However, before any altercation could occur, a familiar alarm rang throughout the Batcave. The noise startled the resting bats if the beating wings and panicked calls could be attested.

In a flash, Batman was out the door of Jason’s hospital room with Red Robin on his heels. Nightwing moved to follow, before being stopped by Jason growling out a demand. “Help me ou’ ‘here, Dick.”

“What? No, you need to stay in bed-”

“Either you help me, or I do i’ on my own.” The Red Hood was already starting to manually swing his legs over the bed, desperately trying to get his world to stop spinning.

Dick made some protesting noises, rapidly looking between the still-open door and Jason. He appeared to have made up his mind when the black-haired man made a frustrated grunt akin to Bruce’s own before hurrying to Jason’s side. With practiced ease, he hefted some of Jason’s own weight as he assisted his little brother into the cave proper.

The two swiftly joined the rest of their family by the Batcomputer. Red flashing lights filled the many screens in front of them, a bright “Urgent!” symbol accompanying it, casting the various Birds and Bats in a haunting glow. Red Hood and Nightwing fell in line between Orphan and Spoiler, hovering like the rest of them as Bruce rapidly read the report being printed off. Jason managed to get a glimpse of the Justice League Dark insignia before Red Robin blocked his view, the younger working to shut off the blaring alarm.

When the annoying noise was finally quieted and the Batprinter stopped printing, Spoiler eventually broke the tense silence that filled the Batcave.

“What’s it say, Bruce?” She asked, hip cocked to the side and head tilted. 

A grunt left the older man as he passed the still-warm report to the teenager. Batman turned and sat in the Batcomputer’s chair, rapidly pulling up various reports and logs, face carefully neutral.

With an annoyed grunt, Spoiler rapidly read the report before finally giving the waiting vigilantes her conclusion of the report. “Basically Justice League Dark is reporting a rapid uptick of spectral activity across. Be prepared to see ghosts, ghouls, revenants, demons - anything related to death magic.” She critically eyed the report before snapping her head up to meet Jason’s unmasked eyes.

“Wha’?” He snapped, shuffling to try to not lean as much on his smaller brother.

“Dude, what if that’s the reason you passed out?” She asked, excitedly explaining her theory. “You died, you came back and no one knows how. You call yourself a zombie - what if the death magic uptick caused you to pass out?”

Red Robin hummed, stepping closer to Spoiler in order to snatch the report out of his ex’s hand. “It’s possible, but we would need a magic user to come here and run some tests on Hood to be able to confirm. We don’t have a way to test for magic that specifically.”

Nightwing huffed, shifting his carried weight a little bit. “We can deal with all that later - I’m getting Hood back to his place so I can help him prepare for his crash later.”

Bruce’s head snapped back to glare at Dick. “No.”

“Yes.” Jason growled. “I’m leavin’. Suck i’ up, ol’ man.” He then bodily moved Dick towards the locker room, using his older brother as a human crutch. “‘M changin’ an’ I’m leavin’. An’ I’m kidnappin’ Dickface.”

By the time Jason and Dick had gotten their civilian selves into one of Bruce’s fancy cars, it seemed that their mutual guardian had given up on trying to keep Jason in the manor. The car keys and tupperware of Alfred-approved meals said man had given them on their way out of the cave said that much.

Either way, as Jason’s aching head rested against soothing glass, he let the gentle rumbling of the car and Dick’s chattering lull him into a peaceful doze - all helped by the content feeling growing in his chest at the thought of his older brother helping keep him safe. 

［(－－)］zzz

Thank you so much for reading, and bit thanks to my wonderful beta Aerois! I couldn’t have done this without them!!! Chapter three will be out in a couple of weeks :)

Taglist: (If you want to be added or taken off just let me know!) @vixen-uchiha @apointlessbox @mentalcarebear @asphyxia778 @horribly-lost-and-gay @may-rbi @blacksea21090 @kyrianclawraith @fisticuffsatapplebees @stargazing-bookwyrm @ fisticuffsatapplebees

[conspiracy-crows]

Fic Writing Update

Hello my fine friends! This is mostly for anyone who's here for either of my current WIP Fics! Those would be:

This Way Madness Lies: Tim and Danny are switched at birth! There are shenanigans, sibling angst, and bonding!

and

It's Not Sugar: a De-Aged Danielle(called Ellie) has to balance her ecto like a type 1 with blood sugar, Danny and her move to Gotham, Danny and Jason fall in love!

As you all have noticed, I have not updated anything in a while.

I am still working on both fics actively, however have been having a hell of a time in the real world. Life, trauma, and my still injured tailbone have stolen my spoons. (I'm going to the doctor for that soon)

I'm hoping to get new chapters for both out in the near future, got another 500 words written for the next chapter of Sugar today, and am gonna do a(nother) reread of Madness to try to figure out where the heck I want the next chapter to go after scrapping the Completely finished Chapter I had been going to post like, 2 weeks ago at this point.

However I am a bit stuck, and was hoping for some input on some ideas to break the bit of writer's block I have.

[fanfiction-artist-prototype]

If anyone’s wondering how things are going with chapter 2 of “Oh My God, I’m Becoming My Father”, they’re... going.

"Well have you gone in through the window?"

Dick murmured, "I don't even want to know." To his left.

[stars-burn]

in which Lex & Danny meet in a very Smallville fashion, because it was necessary

[faeriekit]

"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."

The body didn't move.

"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."

And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.

Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.

The dead body sat up.

Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"

Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.

Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.

"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."

The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.

"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."

The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.

It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.

[ghostbsuter]

He'd been flying above Metropolis.

Like a good ghost! Doing nothing but relax! Enjoying the weather, really.

It was so cool, Superman came up to him, they talked even! Superman was very, very, uncomfortable when Danny mentioned he was kinda dead.

It was really awesome.

Yeah, the keypoint being was.

Now? Now he is in Superman's arms, very much alive after being hit by a stray beam from Lex Luthors newest invention, quite literally hit from the sky when he didn't expect it and out of f reflex turned back human.

"I'm... alive?" He jokes weakly, smiling awkwardly at Superman's stare.

Danny considered this awkward.

Clark was processing the fact Lex Luthor somehow managed to bring back someone from death, his hands now full of said miracle and—

Shit, does the kid even have family left? What's he going to tell Lois!?

[minnesota-fats]

Jason wakes up in some sort of windowless room with a frightened looking teenager, only to realize said teenager is Tim’s Boyfriend he had actually yet to meet.

Tw: graphic depictions of gore/medical torture

I forgot to post that I wrote a new BrainDead fic with some Jason and Danny becoming friends through shared trauma!

[avelnfear]

Chapter Twelve

Masterlist

When Jason arrived at Wayne Manor, the last place he’d thought to check, he knew that Danny was there. An invisible hand was wrapped around the source of the odd feelings and instincts in his chest, and it was gently tugging him towards the backyard. He followed it with a single minded focus, not even noticing when he gained a trail of the sibling still at the Manor. The question still burned within the orb that was wrapped in the hand, making it hard to focus on anything else. 

The burning never seemed to ease or stop, at least it hadn’t for the hour or two it had taken him to find Danny. Every step felt like it took an eternity as it was weighed down with a weight so heavy he couldn’t find a comparison for it. Every breath was like one taken by someone on the brink of dying of thirst while in a desert, hot and raspy. He would have been worried that all of this was some odd sensation added to his usual fits with the Pit, but he could hear the Pit screaming at him to run away, trying to pull him away from the cold hand guiding his fire to the one person who could help.

The spiral of conflicting instincts fell quiet as he saw the scene he’d walked in on. Talia stood guard several feet away from where Danny, Nellie, and Damian were all curled up around one another. It brought an intense wave of belonging-happy-love-pride-mine-mine-mine crashing over him from that burning orb in his chest. It brought him up short and stole his breath in one smooth movement.

Jason stared at the scene before him, a boulder sinking through his stomach at the thought that he’d have to interrupt this even as a slicing wind seemed to demand that he join the cuddle pile. He took a step forward and Talia’s eyes snapped to his, carrying with them a knowledge-filled look that also seemed to be giving him permission. Like that was all he was waiting for, he stepped closer, stopping at some invisible barrier that he knew would be the point-of-no-return.

With a deep, fortifying breath, he stepped over the line, watching as Danny’s eyes snapped open and to his. Confusion was like a fog in front of them until it was washed away in understanding and a little bit of fear. Not a word was spoken, but the wind sang between them of the fact that nothing would ever be the same again. By the time he managed to tear his eyes from the magnetic pull of Danny's, the two others in the pile were awake and watching him with buried hope in their lives.

“You have a question.” Danny’s voice was soft and as quiet as ever yet there was something hard in it, like an ice that would never melt. It was clearly, to Jason at least, intended as a question that had failed to lift itself enough at the end.

A soft smile graced Jason’s lips, a smile that had been there since he saw the cuddle puddle earlier, and it didn’t fade as he said, “I do.”

Silence sat over the group for a few long minutes before Damian piped up with a sharp, “Are you going to ask it?”

The question was sharp, but Jason couldn’t shake the thought that it was only so sharp because of impatience. The sharpness was different from the usual brutal edge to Damian’s snark, it was more of a normal axe swing instead of the usual of an executioner's axe. Jason went to ask his own question when there was a flaring of fire from the orb.

“I- I don’t-” Jason broke off with a jagged sigh as he raked his hand through his hair. This should not be this hard.

Danny tilted his head. “You aren’t ready. Rest first. Question later.” That seemed to be all the talking energy Danny had for the day as he immediately laid back down, prompting Damian and Nellie to snuggle up once again, not that they’d drifted very far from each other in the first place.

“What just happened?” Tim’s voice was tense, like he was still waiting for something else to happen. Jason looked over at him to see that it wasn’t just Tim’s voice that was tense.

“Danny just told Jason to cool off before asking his question. There have already been too many big revelations for you all. You all need to process before we move on to the next big thing. You don’t have to be so tense, Tim, no one is going to blow up at each other.” Talia’s voice was cool, even, and oddly disappointed. Jason didn’t know what to think about it.

He took a deep breath, chest expanding and fire dimming slightly. “Okay. Process. Right.” His brain was a mass of mush in his head. The world around him was dimmer and brighter than it should have been, telling him that he was far too out of it to ask the question he needed to ask. “I can do that.” He would do that because he would have to. Things would be okay.

~`~`~

Things were not okay. It had been several months since the conversation in the garden that fall day, and he wasn’t quite sure that he’d processed everything. The burning in his chest was a near constant these days, growing and waning like it had a mind of its own. He’d started to hack up the dark green stuff from that one day in the Cave somewhat frequently. That was a double edged sword, good because it gave him more of his mind back, but bad because it gave him more clarity on the awful things he’d done. 

There were some things he didn’t regret, but there were also a lot that he did. He’d felt bad about what he did to Tim before, but now it was like he’d never known what guilt felt like before. Jason’d started talking to Harley about all the crazy shit in his head, and she’d been a big help, even though he couldn’t tell her everything.

The worst part was the dreams. While before his dreams had been filled with what he’d done wrong or how others had failed him, now it was like those few odd dreams were all he could have. He could never remember all of it, but he had flashes, flashes that kept getting longer and more intense. They always started out with a feeling of intense comfort-belonging-hope-love, but they rarely stayed that way, causing him to try to avoid sleep until Harley had bashed him over the head, both literally and figuratively, to get him to realize what he was doing wrong.

Beside all the crazy stuff happening, he and the other Bats had settled into a good rhythm with each other, becoming more and more like the family they all had always claimed to be, like the family he was finally admitting they could be. He’d even settled into a good pattern of days with the Nightingales. They traded who would make dinner or breakfast, telling stories about their lives to each other. Jason got to see more of the days when Danny couldn’t speak, realizing that he must have been really close to them in the past because of how well he could understand them even when speaking wasn’t an option.

The weird flashes of another person like the one he’d gotten when they were leaving the League of Assassins kept cropping up at weird times that didn’t make sense. The long black hair that he was used to sometimes appeared to be white and braided instead of in a ponytail or loose. The red duck earrings changed to snowflakes obscured by an odd mist, kinda like the kind that surrounds dry ice. Blue eyes were covered by black and white goggles or a blue veil with green snowflakes. He didn’t even want to get into the hero suit or fancy clothes that suddenly would swap in.

The whole Bat Family had learned that Danny hated Christmas, or, more accurately, he hated being forced to celebrate Christmas. He’d given them all gifts, amazing ones, but it was not in any way because of Christmas. It was apparently some trauma left over from his awful parents, and Jason respected that completely. He himself never really got into the Christmas spirit because of how many rogues decided to do Christmas themed heists and/or just had issues with the holiday itself.

Danny had continued to not give the Joker any satisfaction through making sure they didn’t show any emotion around him. This had the interesting effect of the longest stay the Joker had ever had in Arkham because he didn’t want to leave before making Danny react to him. Jason joined Ellie and Damian in providing comfort on days like that.

One interesting thing to happen over the months was when Danny introduced them all to Khuzbu, which was the human way of saying whatever its name was in Existence Speak. Khuzbu was a spherical treat with a hard outside, many different options for the inside, and a truly insane amount of flavor options. Dick had tried to joke by asking for the feeling of flying freely through the air only for Danny to deliver exactly that. The way Danny flavored the little spheres was by tossing it up and then catching it in a specific pattern, which was odd and kind of impossible until one considered that these were magic treats.

Jason would say that he’d had a lot of fun between the chaos of these months, if only the burning and howling wind-fire in his chest would have left him alone. It was hard to focus enough to even get out of bed some days, so he would lay there, paralyzed by snippets of memories and emotions that ebbed and flowed as if pulled by the invisible force of some moon. Those days were the ones where he would lose track of time only to come back to being taken care of by one of his siblings. 

The ups and downs were fine, just intense. The summer heat only seemed to make everything worse for Jason, but he managed to find ways to keep steady despite everything that was happening. There were some days when he felt lava flowing through his veins, others when he felt like a windstorm screamed through him, and still others when he felt calm.

Today was a day in July, getting kind of close to Tim’s birthday, and the whole gang was gathered together in the backyard of the Manor. He felt as calm as he could considering all the other factors, but he also felt oddly restless, like something big was about to happen or something massive was about to change. He felt oddly calm, now that he thought about it.

“Did I have a Lair?” The question finally burst from his lips, suddenly everything was silent, from the elements inside him to the people around him.

“Yes.” The simple word carried so much weight as it fell from Danny’s lips.

“Will you please take me there?” He didn’t fully know where that question came from, that was an absolute lie because he knew it came from the orb in his chest, but he was glad that it was out in the open. It just felt right in a way that he wasn’t sure it was possible to define with human words.

“Sure.” While the other word had carried a massive amount of weight, this one sounded like the wind was snatching it away, like it was being forced from lips that didn’t want to form the word, like it was a form of damnation to speak the word aloud.

Jason felt a sense of comfort and peace wash over him at the idea of going somewhere that he felt so connected to without even knowing if he’d seen it this life. He was going to a place that felt closer to home than he’d been in a long time. It was a feeling that somehow washed away some of the guilt that he felt over some of his actions in the past. The restless feeling also settled down some, like the massive thing was already set in motion.

He was so far in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the discussion going on around him, nor the fact that there was a betting pool and that several of his siblings were going to come along. He didn’t notice the strange looks he was getting from Talia, Damian, and Nellie, looks that were an odd mix of finally watching someone do something you’ve been waiting on and wondering what took so long. He was only drawn from his thoughts by Danny bumping shoulders with him.

“When?” Danny’s voice was quiet and soft, like always, but it felt somehow more there, more intense.

“Soon.” He offered a smile to cover his nerves as he answered the soft question.

“Tomorrow?” Danny offered a half smile of his own even as an indecipherable mix of emotions swirled in his eyes.

“Okay.” Jason could hardly wait.

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[the-autistic-spider]

dp x dc prompt

Danny was on a date with his boyfriend

they where visiting a space meusem

while they where at a space exhibit they asked why

"why do you love space so much?"

and Danny being an idiot said

"oh its technically a genetic need to see the stars but i do like them"

and naturally this made his boyfriend confused

"like superman and the sun?"

" i guess?"

and somehow a week later his boyfriend was sneaking him onto the watchtower to see the stars

[nerdpoe]

The Justice League finds out about the Anti-Ecto Acts, and Batman is the driving force behind condemning them. He even goes so far as to summon popular ghost hero Phantom for advice, given that his son, Red Hood, would absolutely fall under those Acts. Phantom...tells him he's wrong.

Red Hood is 100%, completely and totally alive. Same soul, same body, sort of the same person. Only 'sort of' because people change as they grow, so obviously he isn't going to be the same person he was when he was fifteen.

There's not a trace of ecto in him, or in any of the Bats. None of them are even liminal.

Batman asks if he's sure. If he's really, really sure. Because ghosts run on emotions, and Red Hood came back extremely violent and irrational.

"Well yeah, of course he did," Phantom deadpans, and Batman suddenly feels very, very small under that glare. "He was murdered, unavenged, told that there was no way he was the same person when he came back pissed, and had his words as a victim ignored. I'd get violent too. Look, I gotta go, but thanks for getting the Acts removed."

[dyinggirldied]

Danny, burnout and exhausted of being the basically only one who can fight ghosts but still gets villainized and hated by the people he saved, decides he's done.

Because he's 14 he runs to another city, one where his parents and GIW cannot willy dilly do whatever they want. Yes, he runs to Gotham. Without telling anyone.

At Gotham, he ultilizes his intelligence in making fake ID and studies at a normal if a bit run down Gotham high school, not the fancy one where Tim or Damian is studying because 1) he's trying to lay low and 2) he hates the rich. He uses an old abadoned fire station as his home.

It's all fine and dandy. He doesn't need to intervene much since there are plenty of vigilantes in this city and he's free to just...focus. On himself, his education.

Meanwhile, Amity Park is literally and metaphorically under fire with his absence.