part 11- a thousand candles burn into the night
"When the ashes start to rise and the moon falls from the sky and a thousand candles burn into the night. When the angels softly cry on the flames below the sky, would a thousand souls still pray for you and I?" -Day of the Dead by Hollywood Undead
Masterlist Part 10
Just like the summer air began to cool into autumn winds, Jasmine and Jason began with a heated tension between them that dwindled into a slow simmer of what neither of them wanted to jinx by calling it love.
Both were aware of how unnatural their connection was, how quick one was able to trust the other with simple thoughts that roll off the tongue- Jazz’s favorite tea, Jason’s favorite book, her younger siblings, his many brothers. It was obvious that Jason held some lingering anger towards those he called family, but it was an old wound, infected yet healing. When it came to more in-depth questions about Jazz’s siblings, Danny and Ellie, there was a sad tinge to the affection. Jazz missed Ellie with every fiber of her being, but her little sister was free as her heart desired.
Jason spoke at length about his own, eventually admitting his anger issues that had led him to attempted murder on one of the younger boys, Tim, that he deeply regretted.
Jazz had only to listen, because who else could understand the deeply rooted rage that came with betrayal?
One slash, two, three
Blood is on your hands already.
Fourth, fifth slash
Ask the ghosts if honor matters, buried amongst the ash.
Slash six, seven
Sharpen your love into a weapon
They went out on several dates, each one special and lovely, but Jazz’s favorite was being wrapped in familiar arms as they watched Pride and Prejudice on Jason’s couch. It was a comfortable warmth that lulled the redhead into a deep sleep, the best she had gotten in a long time.
Jazz was the first to wake, lying on Jason’s firm chest and ear pressed firmly to where she could hear a faint purr from his Proto-Core, she felt no compulsion to move even though there were things she had to do as Regent and as Jasmine.
She had to talk to Frostbite, because she needed to understand why she was so connected to Jason. It frightened Jazz, to have her emotions so sharpened towards someone she hadn’t known for very long.
(She was in love.)
Her own Proto-core purred in tandem with Jason’s, happiness bubbling up in her chest. This was a peace she never wanted to let go, regardless of the reason why the two of them were brought and bound together.
Jason was in love.
There was zero doubt in his head or heart that he was fully committed to his darling Jazz, the beautiful woman who understood him in ways no one ever had. With her, the pit remnants were calm and he was happy.
Happy.
Sheer happiness was in his grasp, in his arms and resting on his chest as she slept. Her long hair smelled like strawberries and he never wanted to leave.
Yet, bat-trained paranoia reared its ugly head in moments like these.
Jasmine Nightingale was, by all accounts, a civilian with a trust fund who cared for her younger brother. No other records were found that could tie either Jazz or Danny to crime, but Jason didn’t want to see them if they existed anyway. He hadn’t even met Danny yet and the kid, despite being prime adoption bait, was already one of Jason’s favorite people. He made Jazz proud with his intelligence and good-natured attitude, so Jason would do his best to form a good relationship with the kid.
He guessed he should be more concerned with how quickly he fell for his darling, but he wasn’t. It felt right. It felt safe. Like he could trust Jazz with every thought, every dream, every hope, every nightmare and she wouldn’t run away. He wanted her, plain and simple.
Thankfully Jazz was more or less on the same page as him.
She never had to say a word about how she felt for him, it was obvious in the way she would gravitate towards him, want to be around him, talk to him, simply be with Jason. How honored he felt to be gifted such attention by Jazz.
He didn’t know how to tell her about Red Hood though.
The Nightingales lived outside Crime Alley’s borders, in a shitty neighborhood of Gotham recently claimed by two new vigilantes- Phantom and Regent.
Jason tried to shove back the horrifying images of a vivisectied Phantom, screaming, sobbing and whimpering, but he would ever be able to forget.
The video of Regent killing the Fentons was glitched, but cross referenced with the Ghost Files, it was obvious the Regent of Now and Then were the same woman…entity that saved Phantom, no, avenged the ghost kid.
The fact that the Fentons death prevented a war was karmic justice, in his humble opinion.
Yet, there was something familiar about the Regent. Something that called to him on a baser level… as if he knew the entity behind the helmet.
But that was ridiculous…right?
Right?
Jazz was going to kill him all the way this time, Danny bemoaned while in flight. He really stuck his foot in it this time and yikes, he really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.
He just had to go behind Jazz’s back and give the Ghost Files to Batman instead of Superman or Constantine. Big and blue wasn’t available when Danny found an opportunity and for shame if he wasted it! Sad trench coat man being there was really just a bonus, honestly.
With the Acts getting the League’s attention, it was time for a desperate move on the part of the GIW.
They infiltrated Gotham.
Danny had no idea how they had found a way past the border Lady Gotham kept a tight leash on, but the agents were able to pick up his trail with a lucky break on their end. He had a haunt in Gotham, which meant his ecto-signature was strong in that area and weak in others. A glaring neon sign of where the Phantom often could be found.
But Danny would never give up his haunt again, not without a fight.
This haunt didn’t just belong to him, not like Amity had. This had become the home of the Nightingales, the Phantom and the Regent. They had shed blood to claim it and would shed more to keep it.
If it meant admitting to his mistake, then so be it, that’s where he would start.
“Bold of you to assume I thought that far ahead.” Was probably not the best response to Jazz’s irate question of ‘Did you even consider what Batman, Mr. Contingencies-out-the-ass and minion-acquisition-instead-of-therapy, would do with the files?’
Needless to say, Jazz wasn’t impressed.
She had been rather happier lately, with her boyfriend Jason constantly in her orbit, but responsibility still weighed on her.
(Danny’s fault, he was aware, but he still had so much growing up to do before he was ready for the crown.)
Getting the AEA demolished was sure to take some weight from her, even if it would be only the beginning of resolving the repercussions of the United States’ crimes against the Infinite Realms.
It would be years before it would be considered repaid, the blood shed and existences snuffed out. The deaths of the Dr. Fentons were only a consequence of their actions, not truly recompense for the torture they inflicted on the people of the Realms.
(Danny never told Jazz, but he knew they didn’t die when the portal was destroyed.)
(He knew his sister had killed their parents to save him.)
(He still didn’t know how to feel about that.)
Lady Gotham offered a sad croon as Phantom curled his form under a gargoyle’s wings, the heavy rain an ironic ambiance for his mood.
There was nothing he could do about the GIW in Gotham until they showed themselves and they were doing an unusually good job of keeping on the down low. If it hadn’t been for the frantic screeches of the friendly shades and a few blob ghosts cuddling him for comfort, he would have been caught off-guard by an attack. As long as he stayed out of his haunt for a while, let his signature be caught somewhere else, then Jazz would be able to defend their home until he could deal with the bastards.
He just needed to wait.
Jazz had been livid with him admitting his fuck up with the files and deeming the GIW’s presence his fault for claiming a Haunt. With a threat to hug him and make him talk about his feelings until he no longer believed such a lie, Jazz agreed to remain in their Haunt until he could draw some of their forces away. Lady Gotham’s ecto-siganture would be enough to scramble their trackers once further into her city and she would subtly lead her Knights to the agents when able.
It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough.
Phantom curled his tail around his laid back form, mimicking a cat as he texted Sam and Tucker with updates. They had sworn to visit him during Summer Break, but the Halfa wasn’t holding his breath. Gotham wasn’t safe for them. It wasn’t safe for anyone and that’s coming from a kid who can punt a building into the sun at a moment’s notice.
Amity was (laughably) the best place for them.
Phantom wasn’t really paying attention, absentmindly petting a blob ghost that was cuddled into his side, when he was joined by none other than the Red Hood.
Badass armor and weapons aside, the Hood was an Antihero he admired. The avenged dead sung his praises for all who’d listen.
And… he was very familiar.
Red Hood possessed a Proto-core, one he’d sensed before in his own home….with Jazz.
It couldn’t be. There was no way the Fenton luck could be that wonky that his big sister was dating Red Hood of all people, Jason Todd when unmasked. She had to know right? There was no way Jazz could miss the Proto-core signature of the Once-Revenant they’d housed for a while. Was Jazz okay with Jason’s past? Sure, Red Hood didn’t kill much anymore, but he was still a crime lord who thought severed heads in a duffel bag was a great gift to leave on someone’s doorstep, like a particularly picky cat.
“Uh, hi?”
Hood crouched down, rain blocked by his huge body, water droplets dripping off his red helmet. The white lenses gave nothing away as the Anti-hero spoke, “Hey kid. You ok?”
(Danny was well aware of how gentle and caring Red Hood was towards kids.)
(He couldn’t wait to be an uncle.)
“I’m fine, dude. Just chilling.”
“Under a gargoyle in Gotham?” The disbeliving tone made Phantom snort in laughter, because wow not the scariest concept to a halfa.
“Hey, it was either this or the sewers. I wouldn’t be caught dead,” Phantom chuckled a bit at his joke. “Down there without hazmat gear and the Anti-Creep stick.”
Hood snorted, the sound stackity through the modulator, “Fair enough. Don’t get caught by the big bat, ok? He doesn’t like Metas in his city.”
“Oi, being dead is a meta-cal condition.”
“Ugh,” Hood groaned, “a punster. You’re not dead, kid.”
“‘Fraid I am, my good dude. Fourteen and fried alive, zero outta ten, would not recommend.”
“...You’re a ghost?”
“Right in one! Name’s Phantom.” the Halfa offered, seeing no point in correcting the Anti-hero.
“Red Hood.”
“Dude, I know. The shades sing your praises given half a chance.”
“Shades?”
Phantom shrugged, “The restless dead, unable to pass over without a lot of ectoplasm.”
Hood didn’t ask what ectoplasm was, which surprised the Halfa. Did Batman share the Ghost Files with Red Hood?
“You’re from Amity Park, right?”
Phantom cringed at the name of his former haunt, anger bubbling in his gut, “I died there. I haunt Gotham now.”
“....I’m sorry.” Even with the modulator, Hood sounded genuinely sad for Phantom.
(Batman definitely shared the Ghost Files with the Anti-Hero.)
“Are you alright here? Do you need help?”
Phantom shook his head, “The GIW invaded Gotham tracking my Ecto-signature, so I’m leading them away from my Haunt.” He raised an eyebrow, “You should be careful too. You’re a pretty strong liminal, but they’ll still try to capture you.”
“No, they won’t get me. Phantom, where’s your haunt?”
If Hood was anyone else, Phantom would keep his mouth shut. A Haunt is sacred, a home for a Fraid, it was not some measly address freely given. Yet, Red Hood was also Jason Todd, Once-Revenant Death-claimed Champion turned Proto-core Liminal dating his older sister. If Jazz trusted him enough to date him, then it was good enough for Phantom to offer him a place in his Fraid.
(He really couldn’t wait to be an uncle.)
A/N: This was beta-read by @meditating-cat, thanks!
The little bit at the end there... foreshadowing, perhaps? Ooh... all those baby names I could give a Hardcover kid.
Perhaps, perhaps not. Who knows. I have the end of this series mostly planned out, but it could likely change.
Thanks for reading!
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Rewatched "The Sword in the Stone" and God, Tristan and Isolde are just so.....
Aside from the rare display of balls from BBC, to completely do away with their tragic love story and make them both bicons and full criminals, damn, it's so rare for a TV het couple to be so Valid, and yet. Them. Crime-married, running a smuggling op, they get swept up into a Clusterfuck by the very king they are stealing from, and Tristan still brings the bae flowers just 'cause and straight-up says he don't give even half a fuck that he lost cargo as long as Isolde is safe. Like. Damn. Respect.
Also, Isolde is just fine, she passed out from pain, Gaius and Merlin fixed her right up, and now her and Tristan are running a Vaguely Legal Business in which now they just smuggle stuff from other kingdoms, which Arthur politely ignores in exchange for nitty-gritty details on the state of trade, like the strangest, most well-meant form of political corruption ever.
Arthur: Tristan, Isolde, good to see you both again, I trust you're staying out of trouble......and not illegally transporting those three crates of Mercian spices I see in your wagon.
Tristan: *pulls an oilcloth over the crates* Spices? I don't see any spices here, do you, Isolde?
Isolde: *holds up a sheaf of trade details from Mercia, Essetir, and Gwynedd* No, Tristan, I certainly don't.
Arthur: .........
Arthur: *takes the papers* You have got to stop doing this.
Tristan and Isolde: Doing what?
Arthur: *leaves*
(Also, no, I'm not having Crime Ring AU thoughts, pfft, no way.)
*sighs* *cracks knuckles* how dare you somehow know all of my weaknesses when it comes to headcanons
listen,
Tristan and Isolde are Arthur's unofficial spies. they created the camelot spy network. they weaved those webs like Arachne herself. the trade papers? just the beginning.
sure, sure, Tristan always tells Isolde that their business with camelot is a short one, that they'll only stay here for a little bit then get back to what they do best, that he only agreed to another month because Arthur turns a blind eye to their dirty money.
Isolde only rolls her eyes because she knows better. this is her husband we're talking about, someone she knows inside and out. Isolde has memorized his mannerisms until she could see them without even looking at him. Isolde could time how long her husband will deny ever caring about the "foolish king" and admit that he had grown fond of the young man.
Tristan as he is arranging a bouquet for his wife: "All I'm saying is that the kid needs a better system for information. He relies on us too much despite our stay being temporary."
Isolde mapping out Essetir's new trade details: "Maybe he enjoys the company."
Tristan: "He's a blue blood, darling. I highly doubt that we would be someone he'd loved to hang out with. Now, daffodils or lillies?"
also: Tristan called Arthur son once, and Arthur just about cried on the spot ("it's the DUST!"). Tristan begins to realize that he has basically adopted Arthur and realizes that he quite likes parenting the kid.
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