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#no beta we die like danny
little-pondhead · 1 day
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The Folly of Men -
Chapter 3: #228B22
AO3 - MASTERPOST
[GENERAL TW: Swearing, lukewarm violence, lots of POV changes, and mild body horror.]
-
Damian was still being watched. The summer storm had well and passed, but the eyes he felt on the back of his neck were persistent, following him no matter where he went. He drove himself mad, tearing his room and the rest of Wayne Manor apart for bugs, asked Oracle to scan the city while he patrolled, and even pulled in a favor with some magic users to ensure he wasn't being haunted. Nothing! It was concerning his family, but Damian didn't care. He kept himself surrounded by others at all times whenever he left the house. Something was out there, ready for him to be truly alone. He didn't want to give them the opportunity.
The day came when he was assigned to patrol with Orphan since Batman was with the League but was separated due to the Riddler's schemes. They had solved the riddle already, thankfully, but Damian was intercepted while on his way to their meet-up point.
Pru, a former League assassin, caught his attention from one of Gotham's rooftops, and he swung down to meet her.
“Assassin,” was his only greeting. Damian was not a fool. No matter what had happened between Pru and Drake, she was still dangerous. He drew his sword easily and pointed it at her neck, reminding her that he was still a threat as well.
Pru didn’t look too happy to see him either. “Don’t give me that shit, Robin,” she snarled. “I’m just here to pass on a message.”
“I believe you are loyal to my brother, not me,” Robin hissed. “Why should I believe anything that comes out of your mouth?”
“Because it’s important!” Pru looked frustrated. “Eth Alth'eban is on lockdown, and I barely managed to get out. I can’t get in touch with Red Robin; every time I try, something happens and messages are re-routed or destroyed. Lightning strikes on the communication towers in Antarctica, the encrypted server that runs through Bolivia crashed from a fucking hurricane, even the goddamn carrier pigeon got drawn off course from high winds in Brazil! Do you have any idea how erratic the past two weeks have been? It’s like something is out to get me!”
“So why come to me? You’re in Gotham now.” He pointed out.
Pru threw her hands up, exasperated. “Because Nightwing told me Red Robin is out of the country to help with flooding in Qatar! Apparently, there’s a fucking tropical storm hitting it for the first time ever! You’re the one who really needs to hear this, anyway, so I gave up and found you. It seems Gotham won’t let me leave until I say my piece.”
Damian considered the situation. Pru really did look like she’d been through hell and back. She looked furious at something, and her clothes were still damp from rain. Except it hadn’t rained in Gotham for a while. Not since…the summer storm. The back of his neck tingled again, and he glanced around. Clouds were closing in. Fuck.
He sheathed his sword. Pieces from this puzzle were starting to fall into place, but he needed more information. “Say what you must,” he nodded to Pru while tapping his comms to alert Oracle to the conversation. He also activated his emergency tracker, hoping Orphan or Nightwing would find him in time. Their conversation would end quickly once the woman relayed her message, and Damian wasn't about to force Pru to stay because he was nervous about being alone.
“Finally,” Pru sighed and sat heavily on the rooftop, not minding the glass that dug into her hands and thighs. “Your grandfather has a new Heir.”
Damian blinked, pausing. He wasn’t quite expecting that.
“I only knew about this early because they killed my inside man in the medical department. I got a hold of his notes, and it looks like they were in the middle of treating an unknown entity, and the files all referred to it as the ‘Demon's Heir.’ I'm not Red, so I can't be sure, but the records don't start in a way that would suggest they made a test tube baby or another clone."
"And it is not my cousin they are treating? Perhaps grandfather has changed his mind and declared Mara his ideal Heir."
Pru stared at Gotham's roiling clouds, looking frustrated. She didn't seem to notice anything strange about them. "No. Mara al Ghul was in Kuwait until recently. She and the others from the Demon's Fist were doing something on orders from Mother Soul. It's above my pay grade, so I can't tell you much more than that other than they left suddenly without finishing their business. I'll take a guess that Mother Soul will be pissed about that. I do know that the medical records were updated two days ago to reflect a stab wound to the entity's chest. Their name was also updated: Phantom."
Damian considered Pru's words. He turned the clues over in his mind like stones, carefully examining anything that might hint at deceit. She was telling the truth, unfortunately. "So someone named Phantom has claimed the role of Demon's Heir, and my cousin most likely heard this news first and abandoned her post to attack the usurper," he summarized. "And my grandfather has closed off his city for one reason or another, presumably to either train or protect Phantom. Am I correct?"
Pru nodded. "That's pretty much it, birdie. Whatcha gonna do about it?"
He ignored the jab. "I will consider my options," he said stiffly. "Now that you've served your purpose, leave Gotham immediately." Orphan, where are you?
The former assassin laughed and hauled herself to her feet, brushing off the glass and dirt that stuck to her clothes. "I'll consider it. I've been running around for weeks; Red Robin won't mind if I crash at his, will he?"
"He will."
"Tough shit. See you around!" Pru jumped off the rooftop and into the alley below, not giving a shit about potential muggers as she waltzed into the night.
He was alone.
Damian watched her go before tapping his comms again. “Did you hear everything?” He asked Oracle, but no reply came except static. He expected this but cursed anyway. Thunder started to rumble overhead; he felt it deep in his bones. Whispers of electricity started crawling along the rooftop, following wires and coming dangerously close to touching him. He was forced to back into a corner on the rooftop and hoped his rubber-insulated boots were enough to prevent a shock. The feeling from earlier was stronger than ever. Someone was watching him. They knew he was finally alone. Obviously, Orphan nor Nightwing would get there in time, so Damian would have to deal with this himself.
He turned in a circle, straining his eyes to see through the cloud cover. He still couldn’t pinpoint their location, but he knew they were up there. “Reveal yourself!” He barked, hand on his weapon.
A moment passed. The air pressure changed, making his ears pop uncomfortably. His eyes were trained on the sky as rain started to fall. The clouds above the city gathered wildly, swirling together and reaching down toward him. The bolts of electricity that crawled over the rooftop raced together and rose up to meet it, becoming large bolts of lightning that could do real harm to the city if even one got loose. He stepped back into the corner even further, watching the mass of storm clouds finally get low enough to spread out across the building like a thick fog, revealing a figure in the vague shape of a man.
Great. Of course, it was something magical. He'd be having words with the magic users from earlier.
The man wasn’t touching the ground. In fact, Damian could hardly make out his legs as his broad form blurred from the wind, snatching bits of his green body away. Smaller rain clouds encircled his waist like a belt, and his hair looked more like jagged horns sitting against his brow. While he wore a well-loved weather vest and thick gloves, the rain around them would have soaked the man through by now. But he was perfectly dry. Damian was a little envious.
The man was smiling at him, but not the kind of smile that welcomed him into the conversation. No, this man of clouds and lightning was holding himself like someone was forcing him to be there. His red eyes looked like a swirling red cyclone, and his overall air was disinterested and tired.
Damian flinched as the man opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out except drawn-out screeches and clicks. It sounded like thunder was crashing right next to his ear or a tree getting struck by lightning. He didn't like it. The man frowned, realizing Damian couldn't understand him, and cleared his throat to try again.
“Hello, little Robin,” the man eventually tried, this time in Arabic. His voice was…strange. It sounded like he was gasping with every word, and the thundering sound was still there, muted and layered under the greeting. "I'm sorry, I forgot the people of this world are not natural speakers of the Realm's language."
“I am not little,” Damian snarled, likewise in Arabic.
“Of course not,” the man waved his hand. “A ghost’s size does not determine their power. I greet you nonetheless, little Robin.”
Damian had a feeling that speaking with this man was going to be infuriating. “Who are you?” He demanded. “And why are you in Gotham City?”
“You may call me the Navigator,” the man bowed a little, stiff in his back like he wasn’t used to the action. The Navigator, it seemed, was used to being in power. But by bowing to Damian, he showed his reluctant submission right off the bat, hoping to appease him and have a civil conversation. “And I believe you have a hunch as to why I’m here. You noticed me pretty quickly, after all.”
“So you are the one who’s been stalking me.”
“In plainer terms, yes.”
“I presume you’re the one who’s been messing with Pru as well?”
“You would presume correctly,” The Navigator's face scrunched and swirled like he was making a face of disgust. “I would rather have sent my sylphs to do it, but the Scepter insisted I do this part myself.”
More new information. If Damian remembered, sylphs were elemental wind spirits. So the Navigator was either a spirit himself or someone who could control them. But he said ‘ghost’ earlier. How did that fit in? He didn't look like the undead Damian knew of.
And ‘the Scepter’ was said with an inflection that suggested it was a name. Scepters were symbols of royalty, but Damian didn’t know anyone who actually used one or went by that name. It was no title he’d ever heard of. Whoever they were, they had to be more powerful than the Navigator if they had truly sent him after Robin.
“Aye, I can hear your brain working from here, little Robin.” The Navigator rolled his eyes, stretching the tiny cyclones. “You three are so similar that I’ll never find peace.”
“I don’t quite follow. State your business quickly; I’m losing my patience.”
The Navigator waved his hand, summoning a tablet out of nowhere. He tapped on it a few times clumsily, like he wasn't used to holding it, and then tossed it to Damian. The boy caught it easily and examined the thing. It looked like a normal tablet, similar to the ones Drake made and sold. It had a shield logo stamped on the back with Egyptian hieroglyphs engraved around the edge. It was warm to the touch, and Damian felt a little tingle as he turned it over in his hands. This was filled with magic.
The screen was made from something other than normal glass, that much he could tell as he scrolled away, trying his best to absorb the information quickly while keeping an eye on the stranger. It was a contract, he realized. The contract had been written on papyrus and then scanned in digitally. Half of it was written in a language he recognized but couldn't read. The other half contained details on limitations for the Navigator and instructions he was to follow regarding 'ghostlings,' 'The Guardian,' and...Damian Thomas al Ghul-Wayne.
Damian paled beneath the mask. His full name was in this contract. This was about him. The magical being before him knew who he was. He sped through the pages faster, frantically looking for answers.
...And as stated previously, the Navigator, Ancient of Storms, will grant Damian Thomas al Ghul-Wayne his blessing. This blessing will last the entirety of Damian's natural life until death returns him to the Realms. Upon completing the blessing, the Navigator will dispatch one guard to watch over Damian until the Scepter returns* but will not interfere with him personally.
During this period, the Guardian will fulfill the contract between the Gardener, Ancient of Growth, and one Ra's al Ghul. *The Scepter will enter The Guardian's time loop, and therefore, the Navigator may return to the Realms once the time loop is closed again. The runaway ghostlings will be promptly returned to their Lairs and Haunts in the correct dimensions.
As one last note, the Navigator will also refrain from fucking around with The Sword and The Shield unless he wants to find out what they can do. (I'm serious, too. The Shadow is busy, but I'll still find out if you try something, and I will kick your ass with no hesitation. The other two will be more than willing to punt your ass into Soup Time, as well.)
Upon completing this assignment, I release you from your bind, Ancient of Storms. Return to your Lair and rest with your sylphs. Thank you for your service.
Upon signing, all parties agree to abide by this contract until its terms are met. May the End take our souls if it is ever broken.
The Navigator, Ancient of Storms
Jasmine Nightingale, the Guardian's Scepter
At the bottom, under the signatures, Damian spotted a smaller note addressed to him.
Damian al Ghul, I look forward to our first meeting. Don't forget to bring your sword!
"You," he breathed heavily, glancing up at the mass of clouds. "Explain. What on earth is this?"
The Navigator cocked his head a little too far to the left. "I thought it was pretty self-explanatory," he said in a bored tone. "I was essentially sent on a ravenger hunt to find you and some escaped ghostlings. You shall receive my blessing whether I like it or not, and then I'll leave you to return to my Lair. Hopefully, I'll never have to grace these rotten clouds again!"
"It's 'scavenger hunt.'"
"Huh?"
"Never mind. You are useless at explaining. What is this 'Ancient of Storms' title you have? What are these Realms this contract speaks of? Why must you give me a blessing?"
"Ughhh," the Navigator rolled in the air, groaning. "I'm the embodiment of storms, isn't that obvious? I'd rather deal with Plasmius now than talk with a naive ghostling like you. What kind of ghostling speaks like this anyway? It's rude! I've been practicing my manners; the least you can do is humor me. At least Phantom can figure shit out on his own; I don't have to explain anything to him."
"Phantom?" The name caught Damian's attention. "You know Phantom? Who is he? What does he want with my grandfather?"
"Dunno, little Robin. That's between the Scepter and the Gardener. They had a contract in place decades before your grandfather was even born. And since I'm not allowed near Phantom for a while, all I know is that he's been handed over to Ra's al Ghul for a chance at recovery. He was involved in an incident recently. I don't know the details, but he's hurt so badly it's turning the Realms upside down. That's why I was sent away; I thrive off chaos."
"So, again, you are useless," Damian snarled. He turned away, which, in hindsight, was a stupid move, but he was so angry at the lack of answers that he didn't care. He buried himself back into the tablet, scanning through the contract again, looking for anything useful. Everything seemed so organized, yet the information he wanted felt just out of reach.
He vaguely heard the Navigator mutter in surprise. Something about freaky time visions being too accurate before a blinding white hot pain spread across his body. He dropped the tablet, falling to his knees. It felt like lightning was crawling under his skin, burning him from the inside out. He was distantly aware that he was screaming but didn't know how to stop it. Then the pain was gone in the next instant, and he was left collapsed on the roof, eyes screwed shut as shudders racked his body. He smelled burning flesh. A misty touch brushed away his damp bangs, cooling his brow.
"Yup, I'm pretty sure he's still alive," the Navigator murmured. "Well done, little Robin. Perhaps the Scepter knew what she was talking about when she said you could house my power. Either way, I've said my piece. The rest is up to you. Goodbye, and I hope to never see you again. Feel free to pass on those ghost rabies to the Gardener if you ever see him, though."
And with a rumble of thunder, the presence of the spirit disappeared, taking with him the gentle rain and green storm clouds. Damian lay on that roof for what felt like ages, staring into nothing and dazed from the pain. Nightwing eventually found him, however, with Orphan not far behind.
"Baby Bat!" His elder brother cried, sliding to a stop beside him and gathering Damian in his arms. Cass hovered next to them, unsure of what to do.
"Baba," he croaked in return. "The tablet..."
"Don't worry about that," Nightwing pushed his bangs back, just like the Navigator had. "Are you okay? You're shaking; Oracle lost contact with you over an hour ago and you never showed up to the rendezvous spot. What happened?"
Damian tried to tell him. A being made of storms came by, looking for me by name. He wanted to say. He cut off my comms and shared a contract with me. Then he struck me with lightning and left. We need to bring the tablet back to the Cave for analysis.
But his throat was too dry, and Damian's mind was in too much pain to form the words. As he curled up in Nightwing's arms, all he could mumble was the word 'baba' again and drop his head to the side. Nightwing cursed, instructed Orphan to grab the tablet, and swiftly made the trip back to the Cave with a sense of urgency. Damian groaned the whole way. His body was tender, and every jostle sent tiny shocks through his nerves.
He must have passed out at some point because he remembered skirting around Crime Alley one moment and Alfred checking his vitals the next. The butler gave him a gentle look and dabbed his forehead with a cool cloth. "Where's-" he tried to ask.
"Quiet, Master Damian. Master Dick will be here in a moment." Alfred soothed. Damian dropped it and settled back into the medical bed. When had he taken his clothes off? How long was he out?
A few minutes later, his siblings got the message that he'd awoken and stormed the med bay. "Baby Bat!" Cried Dick, sliding into the room and bolting to Damian's side. "Are you okay? Do you remember us?"
"Yes, baba." Damian croaked. Alfred held a glass of water to his lips, and he sipped carefully to soothe the burn in his throat.
"Dickie told me you got one hell of a shock," Jason, the second eldest, stood in the doorway, arms crossed and staring at them. Cass hung from his side, overwhelmed with anxiety. Steph was shuffling an exhausted Duke into one of the other medical beds, simply so the boy could feel included but still get some rest.
"I did," Damian confessed. Dick gripped his hand tightly, helping him sit up better. "I've been feeling a presence stalk me over the past few weeks, and tonight, I was finally confronted when Cain and I were separated." He left out the part with Pru for now but relayed everything the Navigator had told him, including the details he'd seen on the contract.
Everyone stayed silent as he spoke, but Dick looked like he was ready to bite someone by the end of the story.
"I'm calling everyone back to the Cave," he decided. "This is a Code Addams."
Jason shook his head immediately. "I'm all for punching storm cryptids," he said. "But you know this doesn't fall under Bruce's emergency plans."
"He's right, Dick," Steph frowned. She sat on the other side of Damian's bed, playing with his fingers lightly, and he didn't have the energy to move her. "We can put out a warning, but this sounds like League business to me. Most of us won't really be any help when it comes to al Ghul family drama."
"It's not 'drama,' Brown. Grandfather has taken a new, unknown Heir that has connections to several powerful entities if I'm not mistaken."
Steph nodded. "Yeah! Drama! And if that freaky storm demon shows up again, then we're even less equipped to deal with it. B's not even here right now to help, so we're on our own for this one."
"I'll even send Babs a copy of the contract; she'll probably be able to find something we can't." Jason started tapping away at his phone with one hand, updating the BatKids group chat on the situation and unloading the work onto Barbara.
Dick looked devastated. "But-"
"Hey, Dami?" Duke groaned, cutting everyone off. He was tangled in the thin sheets of the bed now, squinting at the youngest Wayne like he was staring at the sun. "I was kind of half-listening, but you said something about the lightning strike being a blessing, right?"
"Correct."
"Okay, um. Are you aware you glow now? Well, glow more than you used to?"
"...I was not aware. What do you see?"
Duke shuffled and threw an arm over his eyes. The lights of the med bay were giving him a migraine, but he refused to leave now. "You used to just look like a lamp. Now, you look like a bolt of lightning," he said. "There's electricity following your nerves. And your eyes are glowing green—just like Jason's when he's mad. Whatever you got hit with, it's definitely doing something to your body. I just don't know what."
Everyone paused at that.
"Well shit," Jason eventually broke the silence, bringing Cass even closer like a teddy bear. "Looks like we should get a hold of Talia and Bruce, at minimum. Demon Brat, you should probably go to Eth Alth'eban if you want answers."
Damian thumped his head against his thin pillow. "Fuck."
"Potty mouth!"
-
Danny was starting to get tired of waking up sore.
At least he recognized the room. It was the same one as before and actually decorated like a patient's room, not an underground bunker with his own blood splattered on the walls. He groaned, trying to shift his body. How much was he missing? His lungs were back, obviously. They felt raw in his chest. His vocal chords were also half-baked, but speaking wasn't really an issue right now.
What mattered was his pounding headache and the fire beneath his skin. He had started to sweat in his sleep, which is something he'd never done ever since he had died. Danny tried to glance down at this chest. (Had someone slipped his bones back into place?) The bandages were professional work but pulled away easily when he tugged on them. He hissed as they caught on fresh scabs and drew tiny amounts of blood.
His torso was a fucking mess. Danny was underground for ages, he knew. The GIW treated him like an immortal lab rat by tearing open his body every day to poke around and take samples. It was a miracle they didn't find his broken core, which was hidden deep behind his heart.
The cuts on his torso were being held together by surgical staples; no doubt any stitches or glue dissolved when in contact with his blood. His skin was flushed, puckered, and oozed green. The stab wound was fresher and looked nastier than what Lunch Lady could cook up. It was probably infected. He most likely would have scars even as a ghost. Frostbite once told him that wounds to the soul were the hardest to heal, and Danny didn't see himself getting over this anytime soon.
He laid his head back, staring at the smooth ceiling. A whine built in his throat. Why did everything have to hurt? He just wanted to go home.
But where was home?
His home was gone.
He had nothing to return to.
His parents pretty much disowned him the moment they sold him to the GIW.
The whine turned into a quiet sob, and he let himself sit there and shake. All he had ever done was try to be a good son to his parents, a good friend to Sam and Tucker, and a good brother to Dani and Jazz. Why did it have to be up to him to save others? Sure, it was kind of fun, but the stress of protecting both humans and ghosts got to Danny fast. The others didn't understand. No one understood. And now they never will because Danny was gone and had no home.
And there was that heavy pain again. His core became impossibly cold, uncomfortable against his human heart. It was pulling at his skin and at his bones. He gasped and cried, balling up the bandages in his fist. Was his chest caving in? His core felt like it was trying to turn him inside out and tear him apart.
Why was no one there to help him? Why wasn't he good enough to be saved? Was it because he couldn't save that little girl? Were his failures finally catching up to him? He'll do better, he promises...
Desiree must have heard his silent pleas. The door to his room opened, and a single man entered. It took a moment to recognize him through his tears, but Danny eventually saw that he was the same man who had soothed him to sleep previously.
"Ra's al Ghul," Danny managed. The man nodded to him, coming closer to stare at Danny while he writhed on the bed.
"You are having another panic attack."
"C-can't-"
"The doctors say you have lungs once more. Use them."
"It hurts-"
"Then let it hurt," Ra's didn't look away from Danny. He was cold but not disgusted. He expected Danny to be strong enough to handle this himself. "You are my Heir now; either embrace the pain or let go of what torments you. Become stronger."
"I can't!" Danny sobbed. His shoulders shook with the effort it took to speak. "They'll come back-"
Ra's firmly said, "They shall not."
"You don't know that! I'll be cut up again!"
"You are not from this world, Phantom. Whatever torments you cannot follow."
The words slowly sunk into his brain. The weight was lifted off his chest for a moment. Another world? He wasn't in his home dimension? The GIW didn't exist here? His parents weren't waiting around the corner with a bone saw and handcuffs?
That was great, but that also meant he truly was alone now.
There was no way for him to find his way back, was there?
The pressure from his core lessened, and his body stopped trying to eat itself. His chest expanded again, allowing him to breathe properly through choked sobs and broken groans. He clenched his teeth, trying to stop the tears. He really was useless.
"You are not useless, Phantom." Ra's had a hard light in his eyes. "As mentioned before, you are an al Ghul now, one of my grandsons, no matter what you were previously. You are very valuable to the League now, and I refuse to let you go."
Danny sniffed. "I can't offer you much," he said. "I remember that Undergrowth promised you power and knowledge, but I'm practically a high school dropout, and I'm so weak I can barely lift my head."
"So you shall regain your strength. I have lived a long time, grandson, and I shall live even longer. Your recovery will be swift when compared to the erosion of time."
"Mr. al Ghul..." Danny said defeatedly. His throat felt thick from all the crying. "I couldn't even keep my town safe. All I'm good for is killing kings and pissing people off. I don't want to bring you that kind of shame."
Ra did not show any signs of his satisfaction with Danny's words, but Danny could taste it in the air. "So you were a warrior, yes?"
"I-uh, sort of? I'm a ghost, and I died two years ago. Ghosts fight for every reason and no reason. I kinda had to learn on my feet or risk getting Ended."
"A warrior who cannot die. A man who has the will to act." Ra's appraised him like a prized cow. "Yes, I shall be able to use you, child. The al Ghul legacy shall never die out if you become the Demon's Head. Phantom al Ghul is a...fitting name, I suppose."
Danny wrinkled his nose. "I don't know what half of that means, but okay. And my name isn't really Phantom; that's just my title and hero name. My real name is Danny."
"Then, Daniel-"
"Danny!"
"Daniel, now that your tears have stopped, let me call for refreshments and fresh bandages. We must discuss the Gardener's contract and your usefulness in great detail."
Danny sighed. He was calmer, but now he had to do an Ancient's magic paperwork? He'd rather let his core swallow him whole.
At least someone needed him again.
-
The group followed Jazz’s decision without a second thought and stepped through the giant portal alongside her. Luckily, it led right to the edge of the In-Between, where Clockwork and a few others resided in their individual spaces. Jazz yelped as she realized there was no solid surface to land on and flipped around in the air uncontrollably. Sam and Tucker had the same fate. All of them kind of bobbed around like ducks in the water before Danielle sighed, gathered them all up with some rope from Tucker’s pack, and hauled them along in the vague direction of Clockwork’s tower.
For a space called Long Now, it didn't take very long to reach the tower, even with Dani hauling along three passengers. Everyone was pretty quiet during the ride, still processing what they had seen in the underground facility. It was a little strange. None of them felt disgust or fear at Danny's actions, but anger and sadness at what he was forced to endure. Not once did they consider abandoning him, even though others might have shied away from his monstrous outburst.
Jazz wondered what Clockwork could possibly say to them that would make the whole thing better. She just wanted to see Danny. She wanted to sit down with him and watch shitty kid's movies while they huddled under that one big quilt her parents had. The one that was gifted to them as a wedding gift and the one they added to when something important happened. She felt horrible thinking about it now.
Jazz would probably never see that quilt again. And if she did, she would probably burn it.
"We're here," Dani quietly announced, untethering the group from her body as they touched Clockwork's island. Long Now was a special place even in the In-Between. The tower's foundations were in varying stages of decay, and much like its owner, the building warped from looking good as new to 'about to fall over' kind of old right before their eyes. Everything felt so fragile.
They entered the lower entrance, climbing a spiral staircase past rows and rows of clocks lining the walls. Everything was ticking out of sync, which usually annoyed Jazz to no end. Right now, she couldn't care less.
Reaching the top had a lack of fanfare. One minute they were passing the biggest fucking grandfather clock they'd ever seen, and the next, they were in Clockwork's main room at the top of the tower, facing the old ghost himself.
Clockwork didn't even look at them. He seemed exhausted.
"We're here," Jazz announced. "Tell us what you know."
"No greetings, Jasmine? I thought you raised Danny to have manners, so where are yours?"
"Locked behind the walls of Fentonworks. Tell us what you know, Clockwork, or I'll break everything here." She snarled. It wasn't an empty threat, and everyone knew it.
"Please, Clockwork," Tucker added. "We saw your message. Where's Danny?"
Dani started crying into Sam's shoulder. "Where's my brother?" The ghost girl sobbed. "I want to see Danny!"
Clockwork sighed. He was aging rapidly, growing wrinkles as they watched. "Daniel is safe, for now. I hid him in another world. However, the flow of time has changed. New paths are being forged. If things continue as they are, Daniel will become something worse than Dan."
Danielle muffled another sob.
"Daniel did something I did not expect while having his rampage in Yellowstone. It will take a delicate hand to make sure his actions do not cause him to go down the wrong path."
"What did he do?"
Clockwork looked them each in the eye. His eyes were glassy and blank, like the face of a new watch, but his sincerity was enough to reach them. "He sealed off the Realms."
Tucker choked. "I'm sorry, he wHAT??"
"Daniel, in his explosion of sudden power, sealed off the Infinite Realms from your home world's influence. Only the power of an Ancient can break that barrier now. The only portal still open is the one located in Fentonworks, protected by the strongest shield your mortal world has to offer. Vortex had to be sent out to collect ghostlings who didn't return in time. By sealing off the Realms, Daniel effectively declared they were under his protection and claimed the title 'Guardian' since only Guardians have the right to seal off worlds."
Jazz's mind was spinning. "He...sealed off our world. Did he do it on purpose?"
Clockwork shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. This was a decision made by Fate alone. He was simply the strongest power source available that was also willing to defend the Realms to his End. The Realms responded in kind and claimed him as Guardian. That is a title and a burden he will share forever."
"Oh, god..." Jazz sat heavily on the floor, reeling from the shock. Dani left Sam's shoulder and crumpled into her lap, still crying. Tucker and Sam also offered each other comfort, leaning on each other as Clockwork's words sunk in. "So, what happens to him? Where is he now? What future do we have to avoid?"
Clockwork waved his staff, summoning a few large clocks with reflective surfaces. The clockfaces glitched and changed to show different pictures of Danny, all doing various things at different stages in his life. One had Danny laughing with a group of strangers. Another had him shaking hands with a green-skinned man. A third was him sitting in a hospital bed, getting stabbed in the chest. They cycled through different pictures and videos, and it was hard to look away.
"This is the future we must avoid." Clockwork motioned to the smallest clock, which showed a furious Danny screaming into the vacuum of space, tears pouring down his face. A large rip into the Realms tore open from his Wail, and the stars surrounding him started to get sucked in.
"If this future comes true, Daniel will destroy not only your home world but the Realms as a whole," The Ancient explained. "Because of his new link to the Realms, no one will be able to take the title of Guardian from him. He will become a destroyer and tear apart every universe and every timeline. Everything will just...End."
"That's horrible," Sam whispered. "What's the tipping point?"
Again, Clockwork looked them deep in their eyes. "Your betrayals."
"WHAT??" Danielle screeched, whipping around.
"You betray him by dying, Danielle. You melt in his arms and ask why he didn't save you. Samantha, you betray him by leaving him. Your home world is never unsealed and you can't stand not being able to see your grandmother again. Tucker, you betray him by lying to him. You say you're on his side but end up stabbing him in the back for a 'good cause.' Jasmine, you betray him by acting just like your parents." Jazz felt tears prick her eyes, but Clockwork kept going. "You see the monster he has become and can't look past it. The four of you betraying him would be his last straw, and Daniel would rather tear apart the universe than be reminded of you four ever again. And so he does."
Sam protested, "We would never!"
"You wouldn't." Clockwork agreed. "But you can, and in some ways, you already have. That is how time works. If you do not want to bring about this end, you must actively fight against this destiny like Daniel has fought against Dan."
Tucker whipped out his PDA, already taking notes. "What's the game plan, then? I would rather eat Dash's underwear than stab Danny in the back. If I have to throw hands with an evil version of myself from the future, I'm willing to do that, too."
Clockwork smiled at them for the first time since their arrival. "That was the right response," he told Tucker. "You're already taking a step away from that future. But for the best ending for everyone, all four of you will need to connect with the Realms as well."
"But we don't have the same power that Danny does."
"No, but your will is just as strong as his. Prove to the Realms that you're willing to fight, protect, and love just as much as Daniel. Become his support. Do it right, follow in his footsteps, and the Realms shall accept you with open arms. You will be bound together as a family for eternity."
The four looked at each other. Jazz gently wiped away the remainder of Dani's tears as they pondered over the ghost's words. Connecting with the Realms would probably mean giving up some amount of their humanity, especially if it truly was a forever thing. They might follow in Danny's footsteps a little too closely-but for their friend and brother? They would do anything.
"Fuck eternity!"
"Tell us what to do."
"We'll always be there for Danny."
"I don't plan on eating any underwear, but I will fight evil me if that's what it takes."
Clockwork shriveled up, folding in on himself several times before unfolding into a child, like a phoenix (but without the fire). He looked less exhausted now, less like the promise of the End was no longer hovering over his shoulder. "Become the Guardian's Shadow, Danielle. Take up his mantle while he is away and keep the peace in his stead. Be the Guardian's Sword, Samantha. Be at the front of each fight and kill when he cannot. The Guardian's Shield will be you, Tucker. Your wish to protect those around you will come true, and you will gain the power to shield them from harm. And Jasmine-"
Jazz held her breath.
"You will have the most difficult job. You will be the Guardian's Scepter. His symbol of power. You will work behind the scenes to stage events that shall work in his favor no matter what."
She released her breath, surprised. "A scepter? Like the symbol of royalty? But wasn't the position of King given to another?"
"In sorts. Daniel helped elect a council to rule the Realms and refused to be a part of it. However, you shall be his Scepter, only wielded in times of need. You will take the dark and harsher jobs that shouldn't be brought to life. You will pull the strings to ensure the timelines stay together, and he never strays from the path."
"How would I do that?"
"You need to become my apprentice."
-
After Jason's statement about coming to see Ra's in person, the whole Batfamily blew up. Words were said in person and over text, and Damian was too exhausted at the time to get a word in edgewise, so let Jason argue for him. Eventually, Bruce had to take a moment away from his League duties and settle the matter over a conference call. After debating, he allowed Damian to return to the League of Assassins, provided Dick went with him. The man was already on a leave of absence from his job to cover for Batman, and he could keep a level head when dealing with the Demon's Head.
So off they went as soon as Alfred gave Damian the all-clear. Strangely enough, he had no side effects from being struck by fucking lightning. Well, almost none. He did feel flush every once in a while, and his veins burned like there was liquid battery acid in them, but other than that, he was fine! No, he didn't need another cold press, Alfred! It was only a few hours by plane; he'd be fine!
And honestly, with the news that Eth Alth’eban was on lockdown, Damian thought it would be harder to enter the city. Undetected, at least. Sadly, they were found out immediately and had a group waiting for them as they touched down. As soon as he stepped off the Batplane onto the private airstrip in Yemen, he was quickly surrounded by the 'welcoming' entourage of assassins. They took his bags, herding him toward a black car as Dick jogged to keep up with them. Damian was glad they didn't do a pat-down in their rush; he'd hidden the tablet under his clothes just for this purpose.
"Hey!" his brother shouted. "How did you guys even know we were here?"
"This is a League matter, Nightwing." The head of the group, a one-eyed man named after the god Balor, whom Damian recognized as part of his grandfather's elite, barely turned to look at Grayson and dismissed him entirely.
“No, this is a family matter,” Dick leaned against the door of the car, preventing Balor from opening it and shoving Damian in. They stared at each other long and hard.
“You are not an al Ghul.”
“Damian was nearly killed by a storm demon and told there was a new Heir who is somehow connected to said storm demon. I’m not leaving him alone.”
Balor considered the options before him, glancing at Damian. His one good eye assessed him. The boy simply raised a brow. “I’d prefer it if my baba came with us.”
The assassin’s face twitched, which was the equivalent of a snort of disgust, but gave in to Dick’s demands and herded them both into the car. Two more assassins slid in on either side of them while Balor took the passenger seat. The driver barely glanced at the airport security as they drove the vehicle off the tarmac and into the middle of the desert.
The drive felt long. Damian held a stoic face whenever Balor looked at him and refused to engage in any conversation with Dick. Even when the AC was turned off, everyone started sweating, and his brother was threatening to sing show tunes until they turned it back on.
He ended up singing, of course. Damian just zoned out as his brother started warbling through the entire soundtrack of Hairspray. Truly, the man had questionable taste. For their credit, the assassins made it through the entire performance of Hairspray and halfway through High School Musical before the driver slowly leaned over, never taking their eyes off the desert landscape, and flicked the AC back on to blast. They lasted longer than Bruce would have.
Dick still finished the High School Musical soundtrack despite getting what he wanted. No one ever said he did things half-assed.
Finally, Damian spotted the maze of canyons that housed the Assassin City, Eth Alth’eban. Damian wasn’t sure if his elder brother had ever been there before, but the tight hold he had on his hand suggested that Dick either had very complicated memories of the place or was anxious about being in enemy territory. He wasn’t really interested in asking.
As they approached, the main gate was large and imposing. The sun was high in the sky now and beat down on them to reflect all the minute details that had been carved into the gates. They were gorgeous pieces of work, ones that Ra’s was no doubt very proud of. Guards were there to welcome them, examining the vehicle from top to bottom to ensure nothing strange was being brought in from the outside world. Damian glared at his brother when the man leaned forward to take the attention off of him and the hidden tablet, loudly asking the outside guards when they could go in yet.
One of them narrowed their eyes at Dick. “An extra?” They hissed in Arabic. “This was not approved by the Demon’s Head.”
Balor jerked a thumb at Damian. “His choice,” he responded simply. “The Bats are never alone. The Head is aware of this." Since when? They never called ahead. Damian felt the burn of lighting in his veins again. He caught Balor's eye in the rearview mirror and realized that the man's eye color was much lighter than it was supposed to be. It was shifting between gray and blue, like a cloud, and stared at him with unusual intensity.
Fuck. Of course, the secret guard that was mentioned in the contract. It must have gone into effect when the Navigator returned to wherever he came from. How did he know they would end up in the Eth Alth'eban?
Whatever was said next, Damian missed, but eventually, the gates opened, and the car was let through. Dick was quiet once more, staring at the lush city, probably trying to figure out how to do a backflip off the tall buildings. They headed straight for the palace that was past the training grounds. Most people were taking a noon daybreak, so the grounds were empty when the car pulled up next to the designated drop-off point.
Balor motioned for the group to leave the car, and the two assassins tugged on Dick’s arm painfully, practically dragging him along and not allowing any room for him to wander off. Damian wasn’t touched, but he was no less shuffled in the same direction. They went up the steps, through hallways lined with servants and fountains, following a path Damian recognized easily. They were headed to the medical wing.
His mind raced. Was he ready to meet this ‘Phantom’ fellow? Would he insist on fighting to the death to prove his worth? Had his mother gotten his message and made it here before him? So many questions ran through his head, yet this was not the time to ask them. Damian bit his tongue and instead played the part of the perfect al Ghul. Silent, deadly, and proud.
Balor was leading the way. He studied the older man's back carefully, looking for any other inconsistencies in his behavior. There were none, except for a single cloud symbol stamped into his neck that shimmered the same color as Vortex. Did this mean he was possessed? Was he another one of the Navigator's blessed? Did Damian also have the same symbol? No one else seemed to notice the mark, so Damian put it in the back of his mind. He'd have Dick check his neck later, just in case.
They'd reached the end of the medical wing now, where Damian knew the rooms were sealed off for quarantined patients.
Indeed, a pair of guards stood in front of the extra set of doors. Balor nodded to the guards and pushed through without stopping. The quarantined corridor was short, with only six rooms, three on each side. Five were marked with a little green flag by the door, indicating their vacancy. The sixth, the farthest on the left, had a little red flag displayed. Damian pushed his way to the front of the group and beelined for the door. This was it. Soon, he'd have some answers.
His grandfather opened the door before he could knock. The al Ghuls looked at each other, noting how much had changed since they had last seen each other. His grandfather looked…well. He was healthy, and there were no visible injuries. His clothes were immaculate but simpler than his usual ornate robes. It felt like Ra's was dressed for a close social visit, not for taking over the world and planning murder.
"Damian," His grandfather was as short as ever, however. "You are late."
"Good to see you too, old man," Dick snarked. Ra's ignored him, waving a hand to Balor, who promptly shut the door again before Dick could walk through after Damian. The two were to wait in the hallway, apparently.
Damian moved further past his grandfather, forgoing the greeting. His eyes were glued to the hospital bed. Draped in rich blankets and wrapped in soft cotton bandages, a boy around his age was sitting up and staring at him with green eyes similar to his own. He was holding a glass of Lazarus water, raised to his lips like he was about to drink it. Honestly, if it wasn't for his incredibly pale skin and wispy white hair, the boy could have been his-
"Holy shit, we look exactly the same!" The boy lowered the glass, staring at Damian in wonder. His voice was double-layered, like the Navigator's, and it grated on Damian's mind with the sounds of screaming and creaking ice. "Are you Mr. al Ghul's other grandson? This is so freaky!"
Ah, so this was Phantom.
-
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escelia · 1 year
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This is a follow-up/one-shot based on the fic I wrote here, which was based on the prompt by @ghostreblogging
I'm really having fun with Big Brother Danny AU~ big thanks to everyone taking the time to read it!
Not So Normal
Daniel Fenton-Wayne had been with the family for a while now. To say that he was odd would be an injustice because he wasn't really. At least, not compared to the rest of the costume wearing vigilante family. Danny was a civilian, albeit a strange one. Danny and Damian were close in age, and everyone could tell that Danny wanted to be a good big brother; he'd never had the chance to before. The strangeness came in when Damian brandished his many weapons toward Danny, and he... caught him mid launch. Just snatched the little bird out of the air for a hug. Damian had thought he was putting up a fight, but it was clear that Danny wasn't struggling. He seemed so casually unbothered by Damian's behavior, but he was normal, ya know?
Damian sneers and waves his fork menacingly at Danny during dinner?
"He's fine! He's like, what, 10 years old?"
Damian growled that he was clearly 12 and threw himself over the table at him.
Damian threatens him with his swords?
"Damian! No!"
"Nooooo! Don't discourage him! He might lose interest!" And even as the rest of the family assured him that that would be a good thing, he handed Damian the blade and asked if lessons were on the table so Damian could have a "competent sparring partner." He still tried to stab Danny after that.
As concerning as it always was when Damian tried to stab someone, they were all relieved that Daniel seemed to be able to handle the demon brat better than most. Eventually the baby bird would warm up to him and stop stabbing him so often, but until then, Danny could handle himself.
~~~~○•○•○~~~~
Let it be known that Damian did not have a favorite brother! They were all imbeciles with poor taste in humor and mediocre fighting skills. That being said, Danny did have a leg up over the others for inquiring about sword lessons to improve his fighting prowess, even if he was already surprisingly adequate for a civilian. Well, that and other things that Danny had admitted only to him in the months he'd been with the family. It was strange being the one he confided in, but he felt a sort of pride that, even though he'd tried to stab Daniel, he was still the one he went to when he needed to talk about stuff he hadn't told the others. So perhaps it wasn't that surprising that when he'd gotten in trouble, Danny was the one Damian called for.
Patrol that night had been boring and quiet. Too quiet. Way too quiet for Gotham, which meant that something bad was brewing. Batman had handed Robin off to Nightwing for the night while he poured over all the reports and data from the last few weeks to figure out what the rogues of Gotham could have planned. Nightwing was ashamed to say that the Joker had gotten the jump on them. He'd tied the two up, leaving their comms on so the rest of the bats could hear all of the terrible things Joker had planned for them. He included terrible reminders of how he'd murdered Jason and how he couldn't wait to pluck the wings from Batman's other birdies. Damian wanted to rip his throat out for that, but he was in no shape to fight. His family was in danger, so he called out to the only other person he trusted.
"DANIEL!" Damian screamed long and loud for his brother, the plea surging forth from deep in his chest. Dick looked horror stricken that his baby brother had called out for the one member of the family that wasn't a vigilante, painting a huge target on his back. But even as he could hear the commotion coming through the comms and see the panicked look on Dick's face, he called for Danny again. His brother would help. He would come!
The room's temperature dropped in an instant, their panting, panicked breaths fogging the air while the lights flickered. The Joker paused in his maniacal laughter to observe the Lazarus green pool forming on the ground between him and the birds. Frost and ice cracked through the concrete of the warehouse as a head of white hair with a crown of crystalline ice rose through the small pit and the Joker's veins flooded with dread at the too wide, too sharp smile on the thing's face.
"Don't worry, I'm here. You're safe," he cooed comfortingly back to Damian, his voice an otherworldly echo in the large space. "But you?" He gestured to the Joker with claw-like fingers. "Well, let's just say, I've been d̵͔̦̩̒̒̊ẙ̴̧͓͕̺ḯ̸͖̪͔n̶͉͛g̵̻̾͒͜ to get my hands on you."
It happened so fast that no one really knew if the Joker screamed or not. In one moment, the boy's body had morphed into a cloud of inky black scattered with what looked like honest to God stars that smothered the Joker, and in the next, he was gone. The being who, upon closer inspection, definitely looked like Danny if he had white hair and green eyes and was a literal Eldritch creature, was untying them with care.
"Danny?" Dick questioned. He acknowledged him with a quick nod before turning back to Damian, the one who had called.
"You came," the youngest mumbled.
"You called," Danny answered with a soft smile. "Did you think that I wouldn't?"
"No. I knew that you would. You're not incompetent like the others."
"You guys heard that, right? That was definitely a compliment!"
Damian huffed but sagged in relief once he and Dick were both untied.
"You- you're-" Dick stumbled over his words in astonishment. "Danny, you're a meta?"
"Technically, it's a medical condition, but details," he responded, waving off the rest of the question with a cheeky smile.
In Nightwing's ear Bruce asked to speak with Danny. He removed the earpiece and tapped Danny's arm with it, gesturing to his ear. The "meta" slid it on just in time to hear his adoptive father shout.
"We will be talking about this as soon as everyone gets home safe, am I understood!"
"Loud and clear, boss man!"
"Let it be known that I knew something was weird about Danny!" He heard Jason exclaim. "No offense man."
"None taken, my Revenant sibling mine."
"Where did the Joker even go?" Someone over the comms asked. Danny thought it was Steph.
"I sent him to clown jail. I hate clowns. I've literally never met one that hasn't tried to kill me or my family."
Upon learning that the Joker wasn't the first homicidal clown that their, before now, seemingly normal brother had met, the comms erupted into chaos. Danny tossed the earpiece back to Nightwing before whisking them away back to the cave under the manor. He had a lot of explaining to do.
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jinjeriffic · 1 month
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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5
Part 4
After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.
Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.
“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.
Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.
“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.
Jazz gave him an amused look.
“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.
“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.
“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.
“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.
“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.
There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?
“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.
“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”
Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.
“Duly noted.”
“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”
“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”
Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.
“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”
Jazz gave him a wry smile.
“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”
Tim choked. Jason swore.
“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.
“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.
Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.
“What’s ectoplasm?”
“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”
“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.
“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”
Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.
“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”
“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”
Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.
“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.
Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.
“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”
“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”
“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.
“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”
“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.
“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.
“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”
Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”
Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.
“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.
“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”
Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.
“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”
“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”
Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.
“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”
She gave him a sad smile.
“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”
Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.
“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.
“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”
Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.
“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”
Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.
“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”
Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.
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Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.
“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”
“Yep.”
“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”
“Sounds like it.”
“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”
Tim groaned.
“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”
“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”
Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.
“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”
Part 6
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flamingpudding · 3 days
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I'm back with a part 4 if you want to do it it's kind of more of a crack write I just need Klarion trying to explain the family tree
But not explaining how he was made at all So Young Justice and the Justice League are now convinced that a the Ghost King was a teenage parent who is now 27 years old and just passed college with a degree in astronomy and machinery
Klarion's other parent is a a crazy fruit loop 64 year old millionaire who went to college with Klarion's Mom parents who had an emotionally unhealthy obsession with his mom's mother and then it passed on to his mom.
And he has an older sister who is technicality a clone of his mom but also has the bastards DNA so fundamentally making Ellie Vlad Master and Mom's first born kid but there's six other siblings that Klarion had that died back a while back but Mom got granddad who's apparently the time lord AKA Cronos which is a whole another long story to go back in time and save those kids get them fixed up and now Klarion technicality has seven older siblings which all do their own things
And then he starts mentioning his uncle who is a 9 ft yeti his technicality auntie who is a medieval ghost princess who can turn into a dragon his auntie Pandora and his his grandfather cronos
My names for the six other clone children are Donald (he/him), Cecelia (they/she), Bartholomew(Them/They), Kyle AKA Bite(He/It), Brutus(He/They), and then there's Danna (She/Her) who actually really like the name Dan and asked Klarion if could have it when Klarion changed his name
Sorry if this is a little bit too much I've just really been thinking about au for this after the last part you made I hope this helps you with your writing or at least makes you laugh but I really love the idea of Danny's AKA somewhat clone children and finding their own personalities and and fighting themselves out of just being failed clone of their mom also I love the idea of Danny going back in time to save the rest of the clone kids cuz now he's a mature adult who wants to save their lives and wants them to grow into their own people.
(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)
I probably did way to much research into all the fandoms I am in to see what I could tie into this... And yet this feels shorter than it should but I also currently lack the time to add more. But for now I hope this will be satisfactorily.
Also this family tree idea especially the part of saving the melted clones. LOVE IT!
So even though it took me a while! here is Part 4 you inspired! Thanks so much for the ask!
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"Dude, you are making us only curious!" Impulse spoke up as he sat down next to Klarion who had his head in his hands. "Like you and your mom can't just drop your family lore like that!"
The witch boy on the other hand looked up with narrowed eyes at the speedster. "What lore?"
"Let's see, the part that apparently a Vlad tried to kill your Grandpa to make friends several time. That your mom is 'ghost' adopted by the lord of time Cronos and Pandora, which makes us family too by the way, and that you have a sister that apparently is even crazier than what we got to know of your family so far." Wonder Girl counted off her fingers next to him grinning as she mentioned the part of probably being a part of his 'crazy' family too. Which hell yea, that sounded like a lot of fun to be explored she would have to talk with Wonder Woman about that as soon as possible.
"Also..." Red Robin added as he flipped through the photo album that apparently no one remembered he had. He was turning it around and pointed at a particular photo with a wild bunch of people in it that varied between more human and well... less humanoid people. One of them definitely was a Yeti and there was also what looked like living armor as well as Teekly (they knew that demon cat at least), a giant green dog and for some reasons there was a green aggressive looking Octopus in the background too. "...how are you related to a Yeti?"
"Hey that man there and those other teens in the picture actually have some resembles with you! Do you have older brothers too?" Superboy additionally asked as he moved around Red Robin to see the photo better pointing at a man that appeared to be in this late twenties, blue eyed, black haired and a little on the buffer side. If he didn't know any better and the fact that he should keep his mouth shut about their actual identities he would have jokingly asked Red Robin if his family would like to add more kids considering Klarions family apparently had a bunch of black haired blue eyed members too, judging by the photo at least.
"What are you talking about. That man is my mom and yes the others are actually my older brothers and that Yeti is uncle Frostbite who also happens to be the best medic in the Infinite Realms" The four teen heroes looked stunned at the picture and then back at the Ghost King that was smiling at them, still seated by the dinner table with their mentors. Who by the way were now perking up at the change of topic and the information they could gain with it, well Wonder Woman was more interested in the apparently extended family she had.
"Oh I remember we took this photo last year, it was such a hassle to get everyone into one place with them all being busy doing their own things." Danny mused for a moment, remembering fondly how he had to literally drag some of the kids home through a portal.
"It was more annoying than anything too since I was declared to be the youngest...." Klarion muttered also remembering that day not as fondly as his mother.
"Wait, wait, wait! That is a picture of your family? I need an explanation buddy!" Impulse cut in without shame, quickly removing the picture from the photo album to get a better look at it before holding it out to Klarion so he could explain all the individuals. "Plus why does your mom look soooo.... human?"
The witch boy on the other hand stared at him for a couple of seconds before looking over towards his mother as if waiting for something. After a moment the teen heroes as well as their mentors saw Danny nod with a little smile. "This dimension doesn't have the GIW so its fine, the Justice League Dark won't be a problem either, right?." Constantine flinched at the smile the Ghost King was giving him, muttering something under his breath as he had hoped his presence had been forgotten.
"Since mom is giving his okay...." Klarion mutter sitting crosslegged on the ground as he snatched the photo album from Red Robin and flipped through it. "Lets start with the easiest stuff to explain."
Danny chuckled noticing that not only the teen heroes but their mentors as well showed an interest. He choose to stay quiet letting the adults listen in on the kids, and if things went bad he would just ask Clockwork if they could revert time back to this moment and he would change his nod of permission to a shake of denial.
"Okay first of, this is my mom and his sister Jasmine, this is Danielle my older sister and that hulk with flaming white hair and blueish skin is me. That was before I got deaged because of destabilising." Klarion explained flipping to a photo of him, Danny, Jazz and Danielle. "Mom was around fifteen, Aunt Jazz about seventeen and Ellie should have been about a year old but she was aged up to twelve. They look human in this one because well they are. Mom was originally human and became what you call in this dimension a Meta through an accident."
"Wait... that would mean your mom... How could he have two kids at that age of fourteen? You look like an adult and your sister was aged up?" Wonder Girl couldn't help but ask as she looked from the photo and back to Danny at the dinner table again.
"That's cause Vlad was a fu-"
"Language Klarion!"
"Vlad was a fruitloop. That photo was taken shortly after Vlad and I sort of redeemed our selfs. Plus, mom didn't really have my sister and me willingly.... we were kind of forced upon him in a way." Klarion explained shrugging. "Old Man Vlad had an obsession with his mom that then turned on mom, which resulted in my oldest sister Danielle first. Actually, a lot of my elder siblings resulted from that, but they didn't survive it the first time, Mom got Old Man Clocks help to save them once he got used to being the Ghost King. I got added to the mix shortly after my sister, but... i wasn't in the best state of mind at first, kind of went through a redemption phase in which mom had to fix the timeline of our original home dimension, too."
Danny chuckled again at the disturbed looks the teens were giving his son as well as the looks their mentors sent him. He probably should correct Klarion's wording... but being one of the gremlins of his family he just smiled on, not commenting. He really understands now why Pops Clockwork liked watching the chaos he used to cause as teen, and still sometimes causes as adult.
"Klarion... how old is this Old Man Vlad?" Red Robin asked grimacing as his eyes under the mask flicked up to the Ghost King and then back to the witch boy both seemingly unbothered by the disturbing information they were sharing.
"In human years... probably around 67? You stop counting age at some point if your a halfa." Klarion shrugged, not noticing the grimaces of the teens around him. "Anyway, Ellie is sort of the first born. I came in after that, with my core being a mix of Mom and Vlad. Not DNA wise though since I came to be because of their ghost cores. That's why I look like that in this photo. Though human DNA wise I am probably now mostly Moms, we never bothered to ask the old man."
Danny muffled another chuckle, coughing as Superman sent him an incredulous look of shook while he felt Batmans burning gaze on him.
"You... mentioned more siblings?" Red Robin asked carefully sharing a look with his team, feeling like there was a whole lot of trauma in Klarions family he wasn't sure they should address or not. So asking after his siblings was probably, hopefully the safest option. They didn't know that while there was trauma in the witch boy's family it was not the kind they were imagining.
"Yea I got a bunch more brothers, Vlad was a evil crazy fuitloop, before he redeemed himself. They all kind of melted in one timeline but mom and Grandpa Clock found a way to save them." Klarion nodded flipping to another photo containing him, as he looked now, and all his siblings.
"So, Ellie you know about already. The one with the sunglasses and died hair is Bartholomew, second oldest. They made themselves a home in other dimension, barely at home cause he has to much fun messing with something called a 'Starstream' by being a 'Constellation' and throwing gold coins at 'Incarnations'. Don't ask me what that means, I barely pay attention when he gushes about his favorit 'Incarnation'. They spent like all their money and pocket money there. Aunt Jazz thinks he might develop a gambling addiction if we don't stop his spendings." The teen heroes eyed the teen that looked like a young adult grinning in the photo as the witch boy pointed at the one next to them. "The one with the vile is my elder brother Bite, most responsible one of this bunch. Mom even allowed him to take care of a couple of dimensions by taking the role of being their God of Death. I think he messed them up more than helped but he is doing a somewhat good job, even if he is sort of obsessed with making some red head his saint or something..."
"One of your sibs is a God?" Impulse gabbed and Klarion just blinked at him with a shrug. "My Grandfather is the ruler of Time, your point is? Wonder Girl is also related to a God of your dimension."
"Never mind him, moving on." A yelp resounded as Superboy pushed Impulse head down leaning in more to see the photo better. "You got one emo looking brother there!"
"Oh that's Yamikumo, he is like a year or two older than me right now, in human years. He barely got any of mom's powers so he choose to try to life a somewhat normal life but weirdly enough he choose a dimension that is ruled by people who have powers and abilities, you know like the Meta Humans of this dimension. Now that I think about it, he is also the only one who actually is studying on how to be a Hero."
"Do you end up fighting with him if he studies to be a hero?" Wonder Girl whisper asked him with a quick glance towards their mentors, to which Klarion shook his head. "As long as we leave the dimensions one of us choose to live in alone we usually don't fight about stuff like that, aside from the usual sibling fights that is. Then again I do have some siblings that like to make bets like who is better at ruling as demon lord, or who can safe a dying timeline quicker."
Danny chuckled again as he watched the kids, Klarion had definitely caused some misunderstandings with his wording. Then again it wasn't like Klarion said anything that wasn't true, but then again his son loved chaos. So there was a suspicion that Klarion intentionally choose the way he worded the explanation about how he and Ellie came to be as well as the rest of siblings.
"So....." Superman slowly started wondering how he should bring up the topic. "...you became a mom at 14?"
"Say Danny is there a way for me to meet this Vlad? You know since we are family." Wonder Woman also asked smiling in a certain way that reminded Danny of Valerie when she was mad but didn't want to show right away how mad she was, to which the Ghost King on reflex could do nothing but gulp for a moment. Not noticing that a green post it note appeared on the table before him.
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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 6 months
Text
Beggin’
(Broadchurch) Alec Hardy x Reader
Synopsis: Alec has no concept of time and barges in Y/N’s house to investigate. Shenanigans ensue.
Tags: smut, fluff, established relationship, face riding/sitting, oral sex (f receiving), slight praise, no beta we die like his heart
She'd just come out of the shower, hair up in a half hearted bun. Y/N was exhausted, the current case was on her mind. A murder, that was evident. The victim was an old woman in her home, a single gunshot to the chest and her house ransacked. But it didn't look right.
As she changed into some comfy short shorts and an oversized Elvis Presley t-shirt, she visualized the scene in her head. It just wasn't right. She remembered a little purple jewelry box up near the dresser, and it didn't appear to be opened. She made a mental note to check that out, along with the neighbors alibi and how sound could transfer in a duplex.
Of course she knew when she agreed to be a Detective Sergeant that it was going to be time consuming, that this career would become you to an extent. And she wanted that. After she accidentally stumbled into this career and saw her first scene, she knew that was what she wanted with her life. But she hadn't realized that that would mean when she does even the most basic functions, her brain would be so wholly preoccupied. She took her hair out, brushed her teeth, pulled the covers down then went to turn out the lights before climbing into them. And all throughout it, she was speculating about silencers and times of death.
Her head had barely hit the pillow before she heard a banging at her front door. She laid there for a moment, contemplating her options. It was either some tragedy has happened or some idiot come to hurt her. And quite frankly she knew she could hold her own. Y/N wasn't a fool, she wasn't going to go answer it without precaution. She quickly went and retrieved a bread knife from the kitchen before going to the door.
The knife was in position when she opened it. Instead of finding some craved criminal, or even some sobbing family member, she found her boyfriend/boss with a box of papers.
"Alec? It's one in the morning."
His eyes narrowed at the sight of her. He looked tired, but he did always look just a little tired. His hair was messed up and his beard just a touch scruffy.
"I don't trust Anderson."
"What?" She asked. He didn't answer as he walked into her house and deposited the box of files on her kitchen table. She didn't mind Alec coming over, hell she loved the chance to see him, but this was all a little unprompted for her.
"Y/N, didya get anything on Imogen Walker? I don't like her. I also don't like this bloke, who does he think he is? Fucking hell," Alec started pulling stuff out to work on.
Y/N wanted to protest, but she also knew that she wasn't going to get much sleep even if she tried. This was at least productive and she got to spend time with him. She grabbed a blanket from the living room, wrapped it around herself, and sat down at the table.
"Imogen has a few misdemeanors but nothing of this caliber, nothing that would suggest murder." She said, "As for Gary, he did have a stay in the hospital back in his twenties for mental illness. I requested the documents for the diagnosis and behavior during the stay but they probably won't come in until later today or tomorrow. I think you need to focus on her niece, her alibi is shaky at best."
If Y/N focused on DI Alec Hardy's face, she might have seen the shadow of a smile on his lips that he quickly hid with other possible motives and questions. He'd never say so, but he loved these moments. The times when he could share what he was truly passionate about with someone that he truly loved ... Those moments were the best. All he would need was Daisy cracking jokes in the corner for this moment to be complete.
It was long after the sun came up before Y/N finally decided to make some tea for the two of them. She told Alec who grumbled a one worded response she didn't bother to try and understand. Maybe it was Alec or the case, but she strangely wasn't tired. Her mind kept whirling with all the possibilities and she enjoyed the time with Alec.
"Y/N! Do you have the SOCO reports from the car in there?" Hardy called to her. "I need to call -"
He stopped, looking at her from above his glasses, his lips still perched out from his words that fell forgotten. She gave him a strange look, placing the two cuppas down on the table then passing him the SOCO report he'd wanted. Yet he still stared, didn't even bother to say a word. "Hardy?"
DI Alec Hardy was not a man of many words, but when he needed to use words he always had the right thing to say. Or at least he believed it to be the right thing to say. But now, in a moment when words would definitely be helpful, he had nothing. He just stared like a man gone wild. Y/N didn't even know what he was staring at, and she shifted awkwardly on her feet. Which drew extra attention.
"Alec? What're you looking at?"
He seemed to snap out of it, shoving his glasses up his nose and glancing back down at the paper. Y/N didn't know what to make of it, but thought perhaps he was exhausted. She pulled the kitchen chair to her, putting a leg on either side so she could rest her chest on the back of it while she read. And yet again, she looked up to see his warm brown eyes trapped on her and her body.
"Alec?" He didn't answer. "Alec! What's going on?"
Alec adjusted in his seat and said calmly, "nothing."
"Bull."
"Nothing is wrong. Can we continue?"
She felt silly for a moment, maybe she was exaggerating. Then she propped a leg on the chair and she saw his eyes wander again. Okay enough was enough. "Alec, what the hell?"
"Y/N-"
"Oh ho, don't Y/N me to try and get out of answering my question. What's got you looking at me at all weird?"
A pink started to spread on his cheeks and ears, but he looked away. No way, she thought. There's no way 'shitface' just blushed. Yes they'd been dating and she knew he was more than that nickname, but sometimes the occasion calling for it. Like when was blushing early in the morning for no reason, and she'd never seen him blush unless they were making love. Oh. Oh. Her eyes widened, and she felt a little smile on her lips. She stood up slowly, watching the way he tried to fight his gaze from following after.
"Alec, anything you want to tell me?" Y/N went and sat down on the edge of the table in front of him. He swallowed.
"Don't laugh."
"Darling, I would never laugh."
He rolled his eyes and looked away, not having the strength to say it while looking at her. He swiped his glasses off and groaned. "I... those shorts. I really like those shorts."
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was not quite the answer she was expecting. "The shorts?"
"Your thighs, they... I like seeing them."
Her mouth fell open in a little o, adjusting her legs slightly as though thinking about them meant she had to move them. He likes her thighs, enough to distract him from work. Alec saw this reaction and immediately flushed darker, "you think I'm stupid."
"Gosh, no, no, no not at all," she said, "I just didn't know."
He still seemed embarrassed. Alec grabbed his glasses and shoved them back on his face, going to grab his work again. But Y/N felt bad, she certainly hadn't meant it like that, she would never shame him for something in the bedroom. She just wanted to know. And she found it very sweet that he found her so attractive. It made her feel sexy.
With a gentle touch she made him set his paper down. He looked with wide eyes. Y/N moved with slow, deliberate movements so Alec could take the time to digest it all. She carefully climbed onto his chair until her thighs were straddling him in his seat, though she hovered above him. She could see his adam's apple bob up and down as she placed her weight on him, leaning forward to take his glasses off. They were so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. She smiled, "hi."
His large hands came to rest on her thighs almost instinctively, squeezing the flesh there. From under her, she could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against his pants. It made her rock her hips just slightly to meet it. He let out a hiss, grip tightening. She quite liked him holding her there, the way he ran his hands down the length of her thighs with a tight grip. He cherished them.
"Y/N..." he murmured, eyes half shut as he lifted a hand to cup her jaw. She leaned in and captured his lips with her own, exploring the kiss and grinding against his hips as he branded her with his touch. She always loved the feeling of his kisses, the way he fell into her touch like it was instinctual. His jaw was always delightfully scratchy and she loved to run her fingers along his beard.
When they broke and their foreheads fell against each other, each gasping for breath, he spoke softly. "Darling.. I have a request."
Alec didn't often ask for much in the bedroom. Y/N certainly wasn't trying to prevent him, he just tended to stay quiet. So she pressed a soft kiss to his scratchy beard and nodded for him to continue. He swallowed nervously before continuing, "I've this fantasy. I've only had it for you."
Alec got embarrassed sometimes when talking about sex. Oh sure, he was great during the act. But he always treated any fantasies or ideas as something stupid and silly. But Y/N didn't think that, she wanted to make it pleasurable for the both of them. If he was willing to do things for her, then she would be willing to do things for him. In a voice that came out far huskier than she intended, she said, "I want to hear it."
"I, I want you to sit on my face."
Her eyebrows shot up and she pulled away to look at him, to check that was what he wanted. His flush got darker and he tried to turn away, but she grabbed his face before he could. The corner of her mouth quirked up, "Alec Hardy, even in your fantasies you want to go down on me. Are you sure that's what you want?"
He nodded vigorously, his gaze intense. She nodded an affirmation and got off, offering a hand for him to take as she guided him into the bedroom. "Tell me where you want us."
Alec nodded. He began to take off his clothing, tossing them on the chair in the corner. Then he got onto the bed near the headboard and told you to strip as well. Here came the part he got excited about, even if excited for Alec meant a pair of wild eyebrows lifted high.
Now naked, Y/N went from the edge of the bed and crawled up to him, showing off her assets. He took a deep shaking breath. She situated herself so her cunt was right above Alec's head, thighs already shaking slightly but she was determined to stay above. Then she felt his hands grab at the back of her thighs, pulling her down.
"Alec!" She squealed, "I can't! What if I hurt you?"
"Hurt you?" He asked in an incredulous way, as though the thought was the furthest thing from his mind. "How could you hurt me?"
"My weight on you.."
He answered what he believed to be a silly question with a silly answer, and dragged her down squarely on his mouth. She laughed a little as she settled, but his hot tongue on her clit was enough to distract her to silence. Well, not silence, but certainly not laughter.
This was a sensation unlike any she'd had. Alec had gone down on her before and it was bloody fantastic, she always left panting and delirious with pleasure. But this seemed to open a whole new wave of sensations. He came into it with a crazed intensity, yearning to taste every part of her he could. His touch was everywhere, hot as it skimmed over her skin and seared her. His lips were plush as they parted to let his tongue slide along her folds, tasting her. That delightful beard was going to cause a rash tomorrow morning but she didn't care as she rocked her hips to meet his tongue's ministrations.
She tasted like sweat and sex and everything good in the world, if he could bottle it up he would. Though in the back of his mind he knew Y/N worried about crushing him with her weight, it was that sensation of being fully engulfed by her that he was so attracted to. Those burning thighs were right by his head, holding him there and clenching with each stroke of pleasure. He held onto them tightly, letting her know just how much he enjoyed it. It was better than just regular oral, it was deeper and intimate. One look up at her was enough to make him shudder and hold her tighter. She looked like a goddess, head thrown back with those raspy little moans pouring from her. Her breasts heaved on her chest, begging to be touched. If he died then and there, with the image of her above him, he'd die a very happy man.
Y/N gasped his name over and over, rolling her hips and meeting his expert tongue. He was everywhere, scorching all of her. Alec’s touch was making her dizzy with pleasure and if she wasn’t careful she’d never leave her spot here. That coil inside of her started to tighten, twisting as tingles were sent all throughout her body. She could feel her orgasm coming, tightening and tightening until with a sobbing gasp she came on Alec Hardy’s tongue.
He never stopped for one second, just lapping at her oversensitive clit until he could feel her coming down from her high. Then he adjusted, helping guide her down his body so he was sitting and she was straddling him. She melted against his chest, head in the crook between his shoulder and neck, breaths uneven.
“Oh my god,” she said finally.
Alec kissed her forehead and rubbed her back, “thank you, darling.”
She gave him a thumbs up, “you tell me all your fantasies, love, because holy fuck.”
Alec nodded, “duly noted.”
“Shut up,” she said, burying her face deeper into him with a smile.
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Text
(Un)dead beat dad (Chapter 2)
This is a long one, so be prepared :) part 1 chap 3
TW: ref to violence, surgical operations, gore, panic attacks, please tell me anything I missed :)
Alfred feels his personal phone vibrate in his pocket, he stopped dusting the already-clean dresser, lifting the phone to his face knowing that only a select few had his contact information. He stared at the number he had long since memorized for a second before opening the message.
XXX-XXX-XXXX: Alfie, I need help
XXX-XXX-XXXX: Is anyone else home right now
No, Master Jason, I’m afraid everyone is on patrol at the moment. :You
May I ask why? :You
XXX-XXX-XXXX: perfect
XXX-XXX-XXXX: could you grab some med supplies and meet me in the Batcave?
Alfred stared at the phone and sighed. Setting down the feather duster he was holding, he walks towards the grandfather clock and enters the Batcave. He feels another vibration in his pocket and reaches for his phone.
XXX-XXX-XXXX: could you not tell B? Or anyone else?
XXX-XXX-XXXX: please?
Of course, Master Jason. I Will have everything ready for you when you get here. :You
XXX-XXX-XXXX: your a lifesaver, Alfie
Unfortunately, I am well aware. :You
Alfred chuckled as he slipped the phone back into his pocket, continuing to gather more medical supplies for Jason. Alfred had finally finished setting up quite literally everything he could, when he heard Jason's bike come into the cave. It turned off and he could hear quick running footsteps toward himself. Alfred turned and walked until he could spot Jason, seeing him in his full red hood regalia (omitting) the mask. What really caught his attention, though, was the child in his arms, looking to be seven at the oldest. 
“Oh? You failed to mention we were having a guest.” Alfred said, quickly leading Jason toward the medical supplies. Once he turned the corner into the faux medical room though, he heard the sounds of struggle behind him. Alfred turned around, seeing the small boy thrashing in Jason's arms, trying to get away from the room. Jason immediately turned his back to the door and placed the child on the floor, softly talking to the child, words Alfred could not hear. The room clearly upset the child, so Alfred nearly closed the door, keeping it just barely open, but closed enough that the boy couldn’t see inside. 
Jason turned around and motioned to Alfred, “This, Danny, Is my grandfather I mentioned. His name is Alfred, he patches me up whenever I get hurt a little too bad.” The small boy had tear tracks on his eyes and darted them towards Alfred, scanning him, threat assessing. The boy was scared. Alfred put on his nicest smile and lowered himself to his knees like his grandson.
“Indeed. I have had to patch up the young master quite a few times. I have patched up others as well. I assume The young master brought you to me for medical attention?” Alfred said in a soft voice, he didn’t wish to scare the child after all. The boy simply nodded his head and scanned the rest of the cave. The boy looked at Jason and pursed his lips. “You clearly need attention but are unwilling to go into the medical bay. Would you prefer I tend to your wounds out here in the main cave instead?”
The boy looked to Jason, searching Jason's eyes. After seemingly finding what he was searching for, he turned his head back towards Alfred. Still gripping tightly onto Jason's shirt, the boy nodded his head. Jason turned his head slightly towards Alfred and smiled. Jason looked back down at the boy and smiled, talking to him softly again.
“Alfred's going to have to assess your injuries if that's okay with you? So he knows what to grab and what to leave?” Jason said in a soft voice. The boy stared at Alfred again for a moment, Alfred felt like something was staring at him. Judging him. Deciding whether he should live or die. Deciding whether he would spend eternity suffering or in paradise. Then suddenly, as if it was never there in the first place, the feeling was gone. Alfred simply smiled and got to his feet once again, slowly walking towards the two in front of him under the young boy's gaze. Alfred stopped just beside Jason and lowered himself to the floor again.
“Now, could I get a name, young sir?” Alfred said with a smile, internally frowning at the ever-growing stain of blood on the boy's shirt that was several sizes too big. The boy looked at the ground for a moment, glancing back at Jason for a moment once more before muttering under his breath, his voice so scratchy and quiet you can't hear him. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” Alfred said to the young boy.
The boy thought for a second, then lifted one of his hands and shakily signed out some letters. ‘D. A. N. N. Y.’ It was clear the boy hadn’t used sign much but knew enough to communicate. The other hand still tightly wound inside Jason's jacket.
Alfred smiled at him, “Alright then Master Danny, would it be alright if I removed your shirt and assessed your wounds?” The boy took a careful step back and looked at Jason again, tightening his hold on the masked man. Jason placed a careful hand on the kid's back and smiled. 
“I’ll be right here Danny, okay? And if you want to take a minute then we can stop and wait. We just want to make sure that you’re okay.” Jason said in a soft voice again. The boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He nodded and laid down on the ground on his back, tugging on Jason’s jacket and clenching his other hand tightly. Danny let out a small pained breath and stuck his empty arm up above his head. Alfred carefully lifted the boy's shirt from him, letting out a gasp as he saw what was causing all the blood, Jason's eyes flashing a violent green. The boy underneath him flinched at the gasp and opened his eyes, scanning the two adults above him in panic, letting go of Jason and using his legs to scoot himself back, one of his arms pushing him faster backward, the other holding his organs in. Danny’s breathing picked up as his pupils dilated, the temperature in the cave decreasing rapidly as frost formed underneath him.
Alfred was the one to recover first, lowering himself further and turning his hands up, showing he wasn’t a threat. He let a small smile on his face, speaking softly to the child in front of him, “It’s perfectly alright Master Danny. I apologize for reacting as I did, I was a little shocked. I mean no harm and simply want to help you,” Alfred said with a smile. 
Jason recovered next, seeing the scared child in front of him. Jason had closed his eyes while Alfred was talking to calm himself down. Jason looked at the kid in front of him, “It’s okay Danny, I promise you we won't hurt you,” Jason said with a smile. The boy in front of him was still rapidly breathing, and Jason thought about what he had learned in (elephant??) and looked at the boy again. “Okay, Danny, You’re having a panic attack and we’re gonna need you to calm down, right? Can you tell me five things you can see?” 
Danny looked like he was barely registering the words, Jason thought the boy wasn’t able to hear him until the boy’s eyes flipped around the cave, focusing on each thing for a second before flipping to the next. Jason. Alfred. Shirt. Bat. Floor. Jason smiled at the boy.
“Alright Danny, next, four things you can feel.” Jason said with a smile, scooting closer to Danny.
Danny had moved one of his arms, feeling around him. Floor. Pants. Hair. Blood.
“You’re doing amazing Danny, next, three things you can hear.” Jason scooted closer again.
Danny closed his eyes, focusing. Bats. Jason's Heartbeat. Computer beeping.
“Fantastic Danny, Two things you can smell.” Jason closed the distance but sat just to the side of Danny.
Danny kept his eyes closed but took a shaky breath, still recovering from the heavy breathing. Wet cave. Sweat.
“Good job Danny, now finally, one thing you can taste.” Jason carefully placed a hand on Danny’s shoulder. Danny flinched but it wasn’t as hard as it had been.
Danny took a second and bit down. Blood.
He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Jason, nodding his shaking head. Jason smiled down at him.
“It’s okay Danny. We don’t judge you and we won’t hurt you, I promise.” Jason told Danny. The small boy, however, still looked nervous, ready to bolt at the nearest sign of a threat. Jason glanced at Alfred and sighed. Jason reached down and pulled up his shirt, staring at Danny, “you know how I said Alfred helps me? He really does patch me up.” Jason lied, motioning to the large Y-shaped scar on his chest. Danny visibly relaxed, he was still definitely on edge, but hey, progress. Jason looked at the boy in front of him. “Would it be alright if we patched you up now?”
Danny looked at Alfred and nervously nodded his head.
“Master Danny, It seems I’ll have to sew you up. Do you know your tolerance for anesthesia?” Alfred calmly asked the boy. 
Danny nodded his head ‘yes’, but stopped for a moment. He shook his head ‘no’ and slowly signed with his free hand, ‘doesn’t work.’
“They don’t work on you?” Alfred asked Danny, who only shook his head again, “Do you know why, Master Danny?” Danny seemed to open his mouth for a moment, then nodded his head, glancing at the floor.
Jason took a moment to feel the temperature of the room around him. He straightened with a realization. The temperature drops. The green-red mixed blood. The stranger in his apartment. The boy agreeing to being a king. The vivisection dissection scar “Go on and get the stuff Alfie, I’ll hang back,” Jason smiled.
Alfred seemed to think for a split second, then stood up with a grunt and nodded his head. “As you wish, Master Jason.” Alfred said, walking towards the medical room.
Jason turned towards the small boy next to him, gently pushing the boy back onto the floor, taking off his jacket and folding it, placing it behind the kid's head. “You're a meta, aren’t you kid,” Jason said with a smile. Danny immediately stiffened and looked at Jason, his eyes flashing into slits for a moment, lip curling to show off the boy's sharp fangs.
Jason smiled sadly and flipped his hands up, showing he had no weapon, “I don’t have anything against meta’s okay? My brother’s a meta himself, and I’ve been on some great teams with them. I promise you Alfie doesn’t care either, and it won’t make us treat you any differently. You need help, that’s the focus here.” the boy visibly relaxed, still tense but not as much. At that moment Alfred walked out and towards them again.
“Alright Master Danny, First I must clean the wound and around it so I may see what I am doing.” Alfred said, clearly saying what he is doing before doing it so Danny would be less freaked out. 
Above him, Jason grabbed Danny's hand, squeezing it lightly once. Danny squeezed back. 
Alfred crouched down again, taking a wet rag from the bowl of water previously in his hands. He wrung out the towel and looked at Danny’s eyes for confirmation before carefully wiping Danny's chest. Alfred and Jason’s anger grew with every injury hidden by the blood, though Alfred was better at hiding it. Whenever Alfred got especially close to the bleeding dripping skin flaps, Danny squeezed his eyes tight and gripped Jason’s hand tighter. Alfred had to change the water in the bowl a few times, a horrible brown from the mixing of the green and red covering Danny.
Eventually, it was time for the stitches, but before he could get to that, he needed to staple the wound shut.
“Young master Danny, You are a meta, yes?” Alfred asked in a soft voice. Danny nervously nodded his head ‘yes’. “Alright then. Some meta’s cant use anesthetics, are you one of them?” Danny nodded again, “So I’m afraid I’ll have to stitch you up as-is, though first I will have to staple the wound shut.” another (albeit shaky) nod.
Alfred stood and grabbed a weird white tool from the medical room. He sat down on his knees and pinched Danny's skin together, glancing at Danny, “This will hurt, but I will takeit out once I get to stitches.” Alfred lowered the machine and squeezed the handle, a medical staple sliding through Danny’s skin and pulling it closed. Danny whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and gabbing Jason's hand tighter. Jason placed his free hand on Danny’s shoulder in a comforting motion. Alfred lifted the machine once more and placed it at another section of the large messy cut on Danny’s chest, squeezing again. And again. And again, going up and pulling the skin together. Finally, when he was finished, Salty tears had formed On Danny’s face, rolling down into little puddles on the floor of the Batcave. Alfred sighed and placed the machine on a tray he grabbed earlier from the medical room. Alfred lifted a small white package and ripped it open, pulling the sutures from the small bag. Alfred pulled open another package containing a needle and started to thread the needle then stopped when Danny tugged on Alfred's sleeve, gaining the man's attention.
“Yes, young master Danny?” Alfred asked, stalling in his movements.
Danny lifted his hand and pointed to the thread, signing ‘Won’t work’. Alfred looked at him questioningly, Danny slowly pulled his hand away from Jason and reached into the pocket too far down his leg, and pulled out a spool of… Fishing line. 
“Fishing line?” Jason asked, confused.
Danny flushed, his hand's stilling as he thought up an excuse ‘will work’ Danny gestured to the line and pushed it towards Alfred, who took it happily.
“Ah, I see. Well then, I’ll get started right away, please alert me if anything is wrong.” Alfred smiled and sat himself down more comfortably on the floor of the Batcave. He laced the thread through the needle and placed it above the cuts, starting at Danny’s left collarbone. He looked up at Danny and caught his eyes.
Jason seemed to catch on, and nudged Danny slightly with his hand, silently holding it palm-up, Danny quickly grabbed it and lightly squeezed. Jason squeezed back. Alfred placed another machine in Jason’s free hand. “Use this to remove the staples as I stitch Danny’s chest closed.” Jason gulped, nodding. Jason carefully removed the first staple and the boy on the ground squeezed Jason's hand again, whimpering once more. Jason's heart lurches and the grip on his hand tightened. Jason looked away from the boy's face again and saw the needle in Danny’s chest. Jason dropped the used staple onto a small metal platter and brought the machine back up to Danny's chest, preparing to take out the next staple. Danny squeezed Jason's hand tight again with every staple removed, and with every stitch added. Really tight. Fuck. Jason might need to wrap his hand. This kid is definitely a meta. Alfred got down to the intersection of the three large cuts, he glanced up at Danny to check if he was okay, and Alfred's heart squeezed at the sight. The boy had his eyes screwed tightly shut and tears leaking out of them, whimpering at the pain. Alfred had to go faster. He started stitching from the start of the cut at the bottom of Danny's sternum, barely above his belly button, Jason taking out staples as they went up. This part seemed to be especially sensitive, Danny squeezing Jason's hand a bit tighter, and Jason swears he can feel his bones grinding but he won’t say anything. No, he can’t, not when the kid needs someone to be strong.
Alfred gets back to the top and lets out a sigh, tying off the suture. “Young Danny, I need to move to your other side in order to finish your stitches. If I may, Master Hood?” Alfred asked, looking at Jason. Jason needed a moment to think, before he stumbled, standing up and walking to Danny's other side. Danny was still holding Jason's hand tightly, and only let go when Jason grabbed Danny’s free one. Jason and Alfred sat down once more. 
“Only one more set of stitches, okay kid?” Jason said in a soft voice, smiling down at the kid next to him. The kid nodded his head shakily. Alfred inserted the needle again and Danny let out a shaky breath, more salty glowing tears silently flowing down his face. The silence was thick as ever, only the occasional breath sucked in from Danny when the stitches hit an overly sensitive spot. Alfred finally finished, tying off the last of the stitches, when Jason got an idea.
“You said that everyone else was on patrol, right?” Jason asked, looking up towards Alfred again. 
“Yes, master Hood. Everyone else is gone at the moment. Why do you ask?” Alfred questioned.
“I have an idea. Tell Dam- uh, Robin I’ll pay him back. Hey kid, will you be okay with Alfie if I run upstairs for a minute and grab something?” Jason looked to the child.
Danny glanced at Alfred and nodded. Jason moved to get up but Danny tugged him back down gently.
“I’ll be back right away, Danny, okay?” Jason asked. Danny looked nervous. Jason squeezed Danny’s hand slightly. Danny squeezed back. Jason flashed Danny a small smile and stood again, walking towards the entrance to the mansion, glancing back at Danny every few seconds. 
“Well, master Danny, I have two more things to do to help speed up the healing process. I need to add a drain for the excess fluid your body produces and a vacuum pump to help your wound heal faster, the pump will also prevent you from picking at your wound.” Alfred smiled, “First, I will add the drain sponge,” Alfred spoke as he worked, clearly saying what he was doing as to not alarm the boy while Jason was gone. “Then, I will add surgical tape on top and connect the tube. This will run to a small vacuum to suction up any of the excess fluids your body doesn't need.”
Danny clutched tightly onto his pants, counting in his head, happy that Alfred was saying everything aloud. Danny could feel the devices being added to him as Alfred spoke, so Danny didn’t need to worry much. Alfred finished with that and sat back.
“Okay master Danny, one last thing, a drain. This will remove some blood and other fluids from the inside. All I need to do is make a small incision-” Alfred was cut off by Danny’s eyes snapping open, wide and glowing Lazarus green. Danny started to sit up in a panic, groaning at the pain but nonetheless pushing himself backward again. “Master Danny, it is nothing to worry about, I assure you everything will be okay-” Alfred was cut off once again, this time by the sound of something hitting the floor. Jason was standing there, small-sized clothes at his feet as he stared at the Lazarus green eyes of the kid in front of him. A small “fuck” Made it’s way out of Jason as he stood there. Danny saw the look at started scrambling to get further back, knocking over various tools and materials as he did so, nearing the edge. 
“Kid- Danny, hey, it’s okay. Everything going to be fine.” Jason soothed, crouching down.
The boy sat his weight on his elbows as he looked furiously between the two adults in front of him. He tried to speak but only a wheezed cough of air came out, making him curl in on himself. Jason thought for a moment, then had an idea. A stupid, idiotic, dumbassed Idea, but an idea nonetheless. Jason furrowed his eyebrows together and thought about Batman. About the joker. About the rogues. About his mother. About who hurt the boy. About who hurt Danny and left him to rot.  Jason’s eyes flashed a violent green while the boy was looking his way. Danny visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar green.
“What’s got you so worked up, kid?” Jason asked with an eerie calm in his voice, the green fading slowly. Danny looked nervous, scared even, directing his attention back at Alfred.
“The young master panicked when I mentioned adding a drainage tube to his wound. Specifically the,” Alfred lowered his voice and faced Jason, “Specifically the cutting part of the insertion.”
Jason made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth and grabbed the clothes at his feet.
“Well, Danny, I’ll be right here with you while you get the tube. And, you’ll get to see the clothes I brought once we’re finished with the tube.” Jason sat down next to Alfred.
‘Hurt? Again?’ Danny signed with wide eyes
Jason let out a soft sigh, “Yeah, it's gonna hurt, but if we don’t do this you could get hurt more in the long term. I promise you, Danny, I’ll be here with you the entire time.” Jason smiled at the boy. 
Danny looked between Jason and Alfred for a moment before slowly nodding and starting to scoot closer to the two. Jason stands up and carefully picks up Danny, walking him back to Alfred. Alfred let out a small exasperated sigh and smiled at the small boy.
“This will be fast, master Danny, no need to worry. The incision is barely 5 mm wide, very small,” Alfred said with a smile. He grabbed an anti-septic wipe and started wiping down a small portion of Danny’s abdomen, as Danny lifted an open palm towards Jason again. Jason happily took Danny’s hand. 
Alfred placed a piece of the tube into Jason's free hand and picked up a scalpel and held it above Danny’s stomach, clanging up to see Danny staring hard at Jason, squeezing his hand tightly. Alfred placed his hand on Danny's stomach to prepare him and lowered the scalpel into Danny's skin. Danny let out a deep drawn-out wine from his core and clenched his eyes tightly, squeezing Jason's hand again. Alfred let out a sad sigh and dragged the scalpel, just barely, and then lifted it away from the small cut. He set the scalpel back down on the tray, grabbing the tubing from Jason’s hand. Alfred inserted the tubing and slid it through until it was at the right spot, then grabbed a new needle and added more of the fishing line to it. He sewed the tubing into Danny's skin and attached a small bulb-looking plastic piece to the end. He sighed and looked up toward Danny to find more glowing tears running down Danny’s face, his lip tainted with red, Danny must have bit his lip when Alfred was inserting the tube.
“That is all, master Danny. I just need to wrap your chest in gauze, and then you will be finished.” Alfred said with a small smile. Danny sharply nodded his head, eyes still screwed shut. Alfred sighed, turning to Jason, “Could you lift up master Danny while I wrap his chest? I don’t wish to strain him.” 
Jason nodded his head, scooting around behind Danny and placing his hands below Danny's back, slowly lifting him up and placing the young boy’s torso on his lap. Jason looked down at the small boy, really looking at him. Jason motioned for Alfred to hand him one of the cleansing wipes from the tray Alfred had brought out earlier. Alfred handed it to him, and Jason started wiping away the dirt and blood on Danny’s face. The boy beneath him visibly relaxed when he realized it was Jason who was wiping his face. Jason carefully wiped down Danny’s face, noticing when Danny had flinched and to be careful around the boy's eyes and mouth. It took Jason three wipes when he finally got Danny’s face fully cleaned off. Jason had stilled once he finished. The boy looked just like a younger version of himself. The boy had slightly sunken-in cheeks, cuts and scrapes all over his face, and that look of pure desperation that etched itself into Jason’s bones years ago. It was right then, no definitely not earlier when the boy searched Jason's soul with his eyes and deemed Jason safe Jason realized this boy couldn’t, wouldn’t, go back to where he was before.
“Master Jason,” Alfred gained Jason's attention and that's when Jason realized that Alfred had somehow finished the gauze wrap around Danny’s chest. Danny opened his eyes, showing Jason the icy blue Jason saw in his own eyes. Jason sucked in a breath and looked up at Alfred, “A word, if I may?” Jason looked down at Danny for approval, and then slowly stood up, making sure Danny was comfortable on the ground. Jason walked around the corner out of sight of Danny and looked at Alfred.
“What's up, Alfie?” Jason asked.
“I don’t know where you found the boy, master Jason, but he cannot go back.” Alfred said in a stern voice Jason only heard when one of the family came home with an especially bad wound. Jason was angered at that comment, though.
“I know that Alfred. Obviously, no matter where he came from he isn’t going back.” Jason said in a huff of anger. He ran his hand through his hair and looked to the floor, each of them standing there in silence, until Alfred brought forth an idea.
“Maybe, master Bruce can take care of master Danny until further notice?” Alfred asked. 
Jason's head snapped up, “Absolutely not,” Jason snapped, “I will be taking care of Danny.”
“Master Jason,” Alfred started
“No, Alfred. I found the boy, I brought him here,” Jason said quickly, Alfred stood there looking as if Jason had cut him off. He had. Yet Jason continued, “I’m the one that sat by him while you stitched him up, I’m the one that held his hand while he cried, and I will be the one to take care of him.” Jason finished.
Alfred waited for a moment while Jason calmed down, “I was hoping you would say that master Jason. I fully support this decision, as it seems he has decided to trust you and you have already formed an attachment to him.”
“Oh…” Jason stood there for a moment, face flushed red with embarrassment, “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that Alfie,”
“No need to apologize master Jason. Protecting yourself and your child is what makes a good parent.” Jason bluescreened at the word parent, “Now, master Jason, I suggest you get your son into his new clothes and get him home. Shall we?” Alfred smiled as he turned Jason around and pushed him back to where the child was.
Key word: was.
Alfred and Jason immediately rushed forward, frantically looking around for where to find the boy, where could he have gone in such a short amount of time? They both rushed around, desperately trying to find the boy that was in the middle of the floor just moments ago. They each took off in different directions, searching for him. Jason was the one to find him, though. He was sitting against the display case of Jason's former robin costume. Jason walked closer to get a better look and saw the boy was falling asleep, fading in and out of consciousness. Jason walked closer to the boy and sat down in front of Danny, and in front of his old Robin costume. Jason cleared his throat, and said the boy's name, waking Danny.
“Hey Danny, what are you doing here? At this case?” Jason asked, nervous.
Danny looked at Jason sleepily, and opened his mouth to speak, but croaked out empty words instead. He furrowed his brows and lifted up his hands to sign, ‘familiar’.
Jason chuckled, “Yeah, pretty familiar to me too.” Danny smiled “Do you mind if I pick you up and bring you back to where we were before? I have some clothes more your size,” Jason said, Danny sleepily nodded his head and held his arms out. Jason chuckled and kneeled down, picking up Danny beneath his knees and shoulders in a bridal carry. 
Jason make his way back to where they were, seeing Alfred on his way, blushing when Alfred smiled sweetly at him. He wasn’t a dad! He just found a kid in need, and is taking care of him! There's nothing else going on, the kid is just under Jason's supervision until Jason can find a better place for him! No adoption going on here, no sir.
“Hey Danny, I grabbed these, they’ll still be a bit big on you but they’ll be better than the clothes you're wearing right now,” Jason said, bending down to grab the clothes with one of his hands, walking towards the bathroom Bruce built in the Batcave for when he went on one of his ‘staying down in the cave for three days straight’ escapades. Jason walked in and closed the door behind them, placing Danny down on the clean floors. 
“Hey kid I'm gonna change your clothes real fast, okay?” Jason asked, the kid sleepily nodded at Jason, still seconds away from falling asleep. Jason huffed out a laugh and unfolded the clothes the grabbed from Damian's room, the smallest he could find. Jason quickly switched out Danny’s clothes, careful to not disturb the bandages and other tubes sticking out of Danny’s chest and stomach. Jason grabbed Danny's old bloody clothes and tossed them into the trash, walking out of the bathroom with Danny carefully placed on his hip. Alfred approached Jason and Danny.
“Ready to go so soon, master Jason?” Alfred said with a smile.
“Yeah, I think we are. By the way Alfred,” Jason stared at Alfred with an intense shine in his eye, “Not a word, of this to B.” 
Alfred chuckled, “Yes, of course, master Jason. Young master Danny is a secret safe with me. However, If master Bruce figures it out on his own, I will not lie to him.”
“I wouldn’t ask that of you Alfred,” Jason said with a smile, then he thought for a second, “Well I would, but I would never expect you to uphold it.”
Alfred chuckled, “Of course. And, remember to change master Danny’s bandages daily, clean the tubes for his drainers, and massage his legs about every hour or so to make sure he doesn't lose circulation. Master Danny should make a full recovery in about 8 weeks. I am positive you will be able to care for him in that time.” Alfred said with a smile.
Jason smiled back at Alfred, walking over to his motorcycle. He stepped over the back and sat Danny in front of him, tucked tightly into his chest as he started his bike. Jason turned around and smiled at Alfred once more, and started the slow, careful ride back to his apartment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How we feelin my roaches? Sorry for the late chapter but i passed all my classes! also happy holidays, the next chapter might be delayed too cause my grandma died two hours ago, but know the next chapter is being written! Anyways I hope you all cried <3
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Ao3 link
Edit: there is a link to the next chapter at the top of this post so you can keep reading :)
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gildedphoenix · 6 months
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SuperPhantom - White Crow
Posting this now because I'm not sure I'll ever finish it. Feel free to contribute.
White Crow SuperPhantom (965 words)
--+--
Dean answered his ringing flip phone. And NO Sam, he doesn't need a smart phone. The battery on this thing lasts 5 days and it survives being in Dean's pocket when he's thrown against a wall by the bad guy of the week.
"Hi Bobby. Whatcha got for us?"
"I hope you've got gas in the take because this one is going to be a bit of a chase." Bobby opened. "I've got reports coming in from all over about a white crow being linked to dozens of deaths. None of the hunters who've looked into it so far have been able to track the creature or find any connections between the victims. The issue is that some of the crimes aren't fresh. The last victim, a Tim Stillion, had been dead for weeks. Can't figure out the cause because the animals had been at his body. And unless this bird can teleport, he was on the other side the country when Stillion was kill't."
Sam, who was already clickity clacking on his laptop, spoke up. "It sounds like the crow isn't a portent of death then, but just a reporter. But how is it finding the bodies?"
"Yeah," Bobby drawled "I figured you'd come to that conclusion. That's why I called you boys. Every other hunter is out here trying to end this bird when it's solved more cold cases then all of them combined. Bunch of idgits."
Dean grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and started towards the garage. "So where are we headed Bobby? Any word on the last sighting?"
"Last couple time it was seen, it was around central Illinois."
"Let's roll"
-=-=-=-=-
Sam Manson revved her vespa and continued chasing the white crow down ST-54. They'd been at this for weeks now. And despite it all, Sam was just happy that she'd found Danny at all.
/three weeks ago/
Danny had a tendency to drop whatever he was holding if he got summoned but for once, he kept hold of his cell phone. So when he ended up disappearing in the middle of a Doom speed run, Tucker was able to track him down. And after a few minutes (and way too few reasonable security measures) Sam and Tucker were able to watch a live stream from a web connected Nanny cam. The room was all white, leather couches pushed back against the walls. Marble and brass coffee table set with white taper candles. Starbucks cups sitting on the ledge of the kitchen counter. And in the middle of the room, Phantom. Desperately trying to convince 6 PTA, HOA, Basic Witches that he was indeed the Ghost King that they were trying to summon.
"There's no way!" leopard print blouse said. "You look like one of my son's friends."
A woman in a white gauze blouse and white wash jeans stepped forward. It must be her house, because she matched the decor. "How did you highjack the summoning?!" It was the same tone every teen has heard from their parents. The tone that said they'd already decided what had happened and were just waiting for you to admit fault.
"Hey, you summoned me. What did you even want, anyway? Pumpkin spice to be available year round? For the grocery store to accept your expired coupons? How about-"
"Now you listen to me young man," A third woman, dressed in sunny yellow and a high pony tail that did nothing to help her look younger. "You need to learn manners and your parents clearly didn't care to teach you"
("Ouch" danny mumbled, "accurate, but ouch" )
Yellow started chanting and the others quickly caught on and joined in. Danny, realizing that he was running out of time to gas light, gatekeep, or girlboss his way out of a solution, tried the old reliable Plan Z. Run away.
So he turned ghostly tail to the nearest window and - BONK! - was stopped by the shielding on the summoning circle. Which was a first. People usually forgot about that. Danny was now both impressed and worried as be felt both pressure and dread building around him as the chanting volume and speed.
Danny clutched his head as the pressure grew to a screeching point until everything released with a pop. The pressure was gone. The chanting was gone. Danny felt lighter, which was saying something given how gravity was typically just a suggestion while he was in ghost mode. Opening his eyes -and when had he closed them? - he noticed one more difference. Everyone had gotten bigger. And the furniture had gotten bigger. And the room had gotten…. uh oh. He had gotten smaller.
Danny was trying to orient himself and identify where an deep thudding was coming from when he was hit from the side. Foot steps. That's what the thudding was. They were just drastically louder when he was only tall enough to stare people in the shins. And the sidelong assault? A broom. Which connected a second time before he thought to go intangible. (Why did he always forget intangibility?)
The woman in white had gotten a broom and was swatting him towards the open patio door, her strappy white sandals stopping behind him and he frantically tried to coordinate his limbs in that same direction. His limbs did not want to coordinate but he eventually got himself out the door and the broom stopped swatting at him.
Once he cleared the threshold, the door rolled closed with a slam and the lock snicked shut.
"And don't come back unless you've learned respect!" was shouted at him from a nearby window before it, too was slammed shut.
Looking back into the house, he was met by his own reflection in the sliding glass door. "SQUAAAAAAK!"
======================================
In which Danny and Sam are traveling the US 90's road trip style to absorb the ecto of recent (or semi-recent) murders so Danny can get enough power to break the spell and transform back. The general hunter community is chasing a white crow and a witch to stop them from committing all these murders. And Sam and Dean and Bobby are trying to just figure out what's going on.
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fishbrain-glubglub · 6 months
Text
The fight was going on forever, and Danny was exhausted.
Plasmius had appeared in Amity Park, flaunting some evil plan or whatever. Danny had honestly stopped paying attention after the fourth "Little Badger" and was just trying to figure out a way to escape so he could not study for his upcoming Biology exam and maybe catch more than five hours of sleep in a night.
At least the "not studying" part seemed to be going well for him.
"Honestly, Daniel, I expected more from you." The vampire-imitator blasted a pink ecto-ray at the boy, who didn't have the energy to dodge, and was sent sprawling onto the nearest rooftop, oozing ectoplasm from various cuts across his body. His healing factor was slowed due to lack of rest, and his body was utilizing more of his ecto-energy to just stay in his ghost-form, let alone try and counter-attack. If it wasn't for the fact it was a weekday, Danny would've put more effort into fighting back so he could spend the next day resting.
"Sorry to disappoint, Vlad." Danny rose slowly to his feet, hoping he wasn't shaking. "Not everyone can lounge around in an oversized mansion making thousands of dollars by just breathing."
"Oh, but you could, my boy. All you have to do is-"
"Renounce my father and become your loyal son, blah blah blah." Danny rolled his eyes and held his still bleeding side, praying to keep his ghost form long enough to escape. "You're so predictable. Is there anything you think about that isn't pining over my mom and bribing my loyalty? Get a cat or something."
Plasmius growled and sent another blast to the boy, knocking him back to the ground. Coughing up what felt like three lungs, Danny looked up at the looming fruit loop and shuttered before his ghost form finally dissipated. Ectoplasm transformed into blood and began staining his normal clothes before he was picked up by the back of his shirt. As Danny was turned to face Plasmius, he noticed the frown on the halfa's face.
"What," growled Danny, baring teeth slightly bloodied from his nose. "Was my beating not satisfying enough for you?"
Instead of replying, Vlad set Danny on his shaky feet, stabilizing the boy by holding him under his arms. Settling himself next to Danny, Vlad transformed back to his human form, the frown never leaving his face.
"Oh, now are you going to prove your superiority by beating me in human form?"
Vlad's grip tightened around Danny, digging his fingers into the boy's side, tensing the wraps around his chest Danny had forgotten about.
Oh shit.
"Care to explain, Daniel, what these are?" The man dug his fingers into the wrap again, causing Danny to wince.
"None of your business, Candy Pants." he bit out.
Vlad hummed before narrowing his eyes. "Despite what your naive young mind believes, I do care about your well being."
"You have a wonderful way of showing it."
"And because I care," Vlad continued. "I must insist that if you are to be binding, you are to do it properly and only for the maximum allotted hours for your safety."
Danny's blood ran cold as his entire body stiffened. There was no way that Vlad, after a single interaction, knew what the wraps around Danny's chest were for. "I don't know what your talking about."
"Oh please, dear boy, spare me your pathetic excuses. I know improper chest binding when I see it." Vlad had begun to guide Danny to the edge of the roof, glancing around to check for bystanders before turning the duo invisible and floating them down to the alley below before they emerged onto the sidewalk. "I might be old, but I am not oblivious."
Panic started to settle deep within Danny's core as Vlad led him down the street. The man seemed to be busy on his phone, typing away, probably doing boring rich people things Danny was too poor to care about. He didn't even think he had enough energy to phase out of Vlad's grip or even run down the street without collapsing. He could only hope that Vlad would take pity on him and leave him on a corner so he could crawl his way back home and get many three hours of sleep before starting his day over again with a new set of bruises.
To his surprise, waiting at the corner was a limo with the driver holding open the back door like in the movies. Danny glanced up at Vlad, but the man was still engrossed in his phone, barely sparing a glance at the driver as he dragged the boy into the back, signaling to the driver to start driving.
"I would say I'm surprised at the kidnapping," Danny snarked, trying not to get too comfortable in the admittedly luxurious seats while also trying to push down his rising panic. "but you've already tried to kill me on multiple occasions, so I'll just wait until we get to the torture chamber I'm sure you have hidden in your basement."
Vlad let out a sigh, still not looking away from his phone. "Relax, Daniel."
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one being kidnapped." He wrapped his arms tightly against his aching chest as Vlad sent him a short glare, flashing red eyes before returning to his phone.
Seriously, what was going on?
He must have nodded off without realizing it, because when he opened his eyes, the neon sign of Fenton Works was shining through the window. Vlad, no longer on his phone, seemed to be patiently waiting for Danny to rise from his much needed slumber.
"Take a photo, it'll last longer."
Vlad only rolled his eyes before exiting the limo. He motioned for Danny to follow, tapping his foot impatiently on the pavement.
After sliding out of the back, Vlad placed a surprisingly gentle hand on his back before guiding him up the steps to the front door.
Before he could slip inside and collapse on his bed for the foreseeable future (until his alarm went of in the morning), Vlad's hand shifted to his shoulder, squeezing for a moment before turning the boy to face him. There was a glimmer of something different in the older man's eye than Danny hadn't seen before. The only word his sleep deprived brain could conjure up was sympathetic. But that couldn't be true. This was Vlad after all.
"If there ever is a time where you need anything..." The man's eyes glanced down to the hidden bindings for a moment before looking back to Danny. "specific your parents might not be aware enough to fund, I am willing to support those endeavors."
Danny narrowed his eyes. "What game are you playing at, Plasmius?"
"No games, dear boy." Vlad patted his shoulder before withdrawing his hand completely. "As I have stated, I care for your well being. Despite our differences, we are more alike than you think. I have a certain understanding that others might be unable to comprehend."
Danny's sleepy brain tried to read between the lines, but he had clearly spent too much energy just trying to stand up straight. Vlad noticed, huffing out a laugh to himself before turning back to his limo.
"Wait!"
Vlad turned around and raised an eyebrow.
"You're not gonna..." Danny licked his lips. "You're not gonna tell anyone, are you?"
That weird glimmer returned to the fruit loop's eyes. "It's not my place, Little Badger. I'd be quite the hypocrite if I went around 'exposing' your secret."
Danny frowned. "Why?"
Vlad flashed his perfect human teeth. "You'll understand soon enough. Rest well, son" He turned back around and reentered the back of the limo, riding away from a bewildered Danny.
Shaking his head, Danny entered his home, surprised at the lack of parents hovering at the door demanding why he was past curfew. Not wanting to press his luck, he rushed upstairs to his room, shutting the door quietly and ready to sleep until he was 20.
Before he could collapse into bed, however, he noticed the decently sized package waiting for him. It was in a plain black bag, no decals, no logos, nothing. Curious, Danny looked in the bag.
He gasped.
Inside was a stack of skin-colored binders. Proper binders from those websites Danny browsed every so often, unsure on how to ask his parents to buy one. Despite the risks, he had opted to just use ace bandages knowing the abundance they had due to the injuries of ghost fighting. My chest isn't that big. He would reason with himself. I'll be fine for a few hours.
It was never just a few hours, though. As long as Danny existed outside his room or the comfort of Sam or Tucker's room, the bandages were there, squeezing his chest to create the illusion that created enough serotonin to get through the day. Sure, he bound longer than he should, but he was already dead, right? What was the harm?
There was a note at the bottom of the bag, somehow written in familiar snobby fruit-loopy handwriting.
Daniel, I pray that you only use those horrid bandages for their intended purpose from now on. This bag should contain enough garments to last you a while, though with your track record, you'll require more within the year's end. Regardless, I expect you to be safe and take care of yourself properly. I am not above overshadowing you just so you don't permanently damage your ribs by being, as you so eloquently call me, a "fruit loop." I look forward to our next exchange. Vlad Masters
Danny stared at the note, rereading it again and again just to make sure it wasn't a prank and Vlad's pet ghost vultures weren't going to pop out of the bag and capture him for Vlad's gloating Packer-filled pleasure. It seemed too good to be true.
Nothing happened though. The garment stayed where they were and Danny's ghost sense didn't alert him to another threat.
The boy smiled, surprised at the tears forming in his eyes. "Thanks Vlad."
In the morning, if anyone noticed that Danny's shirt didn't seem as rumpled at his chest or that his smile seemed brighter than usual, no one commented. They let the boy go about his day, glancing out the window seemingly staring off into space, his smile never failing for a second.
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moonfoxgazer · 4 months
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My first fic for @ecto-implosion based on artwork by @ovytia-art
I hope ya'll enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
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charcoalhawk · 1 year
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And they’ve all got the same heartbeat (but hers is falling behind)
With Casper high behind them, students from Amity park are finding out the the world around them is much different from the one they grew up in.
First Phic for Phic Phight 2023!
Prompt was from @mr-lancers-english-class: Amity Park residents often forget what feats of human ability are considered "normal" and what are considered "superhuman does not even begin to cover it oh dear god where in the world did you learn to do that?!?" This leads to some... interesting situations when Danny's graduating class steps out into the rest of the world for college.
had, a lot of fun with this. It was really fun breaking out a bunch of OC’ s and letting them just all run wild all over this.
Warning for reference to SA, Transphobia, injuries, and vomiting.
Title comes from Ecosmith, Cool Kids.
Paulina
Paulina hadn’t realized, at first, just how soft the world was outside of Amity Park. While her father had never let her attend the same self-defense classes Valerie went to, she had still learned how to protect herself from those who might wish her ill.
But, in retrospect, most people didn’t spend their high school years fighting the undead. So maybe her sense of fight of flight was just a tad bit skewed.
This wasn’t Paulina’s first time waking home slightly too drunk, during junior year at Casper she and Star spent every night during spring break bar hopping, and there had definitely been times during her senior year where entire week’s had felt like a dream.
But that had been at Casper, where all the teachers knew that students had bad weeks in which even showing up to school was a Herculean effort. On those weeks Mr. Lancer would offer you a quiet room after school to make up work in, and everyone knew to tread carefully.
But now she was in college, states away from Casper’s familiar haunted halls, and she, and Star, were starting to realize that the other girls around them maybe had slightly different experiences growing up.
Case in point, Paulina had mastered walking in heels when she was thirteen running away from an ancient dragon that had wanted her head on a spike, so even slightly drunk her steps didn’t waiver. Jessica was holding her heels in one hand while the other clutched her phone and lanyard like a lifeline, and Monica had shown up in flats and was now happily devouring a huge tub of pretzels she had borrowed from the frat house.
The party had taken place in the farthest house from freshman housing, off the campus itself. It had been free admission, a feature most freshmen all thought was amazing, but all the sophomores and juniors knew was a scam to get rid of all the old beer from the last several years that no one else wanted to drink.
It was close to three in the morning according to the last time Jessica had loudly announced from checking her phone, so there was little other foot traffic as the three of them slowly made their way back to the dorm. Paulina had noticed someone following them almost immediately after they had left the party, but had hoped it was just another freshman making the walk of shame back onto campus.
But as they near the first campus building, the figure that had been following from a distance rapidly gained on them, revealing itself to be at four gangly boys, who all swaggered towards them like they had a hive of bees up their asses. Paulina distinctly remembers turning the leading boy, Ben, down when he had insisted she give him a shot earlier that week.
They’re stopped at a traffic light where Jessica starts to rather urgently press the crosswalk button, but the light has just turned green and it’ll be at least two or so minutes before the light will cycle.
“Hey there, pretty thing,” Ben drawls, “what’s someone like you doing out past your bedtime?”
Oh, he’s one of those assholes. Paulina knows she had made it abundantly clear she had no interest in him, and if he was the kind of guy who stalked drunk girls after a party, she had definitely made the right choice.
Jessica and Monica are giving her some very concerned glances, and out of the corner of her eye Paulina sees Jessica fumbling for her phone while trying to not drop her heels.
There’s just too much traffic for them to safely cross, and even then the boys would just follow them, and there is no way Paulina is playing a demented version of hide and seek with these losers.
Paulina understands the other girl's concern, but she’s met beings who would truly wish her harm, these empty headed cardboard cutouts with overinflated egos just needed to be firmly taught a lesson.
With large steps Ben’s in her space in moments, hand reaching down to posessively stroke her cheek down her neck. His hand is larger than her’s, smooth from lack of work and well manicured. She can smell his cologne, it’s something cheap, he’s practically doused himself in it so entering his personal space means all you can smell is him.
His hand travels didn further and- nope! Paulina has dealt with a lot of disgusting men in her life, but most of them are too cowardly to get too close. Over the years she’s learned to ignore most demeaning language, as in most cases speaking up about it will get her a telling off from her parents for acting unladylike.
Her hands snap up to grab his wrist while she shifts slightly so none of him is touching her. Before he can make any comment, she yanks harshly down and hears the tell-tale pop of a dislocating shoulder. She remembers Valerie teaching her that the summer before freshman year, her then friend had been worried and had wanted to give Paulina a way to deter anyone from trying to touch her more then once when she didn’t want them too.
It had come in handy a few times over the years, but she hadn’t always been able to actually get the shoulder dislocated on the first try. It had still been surprising enough that it had gotten her out of one bad situation, but after that she had asked and both Kwan and Dash had volunteered to help get her technique down and now she knew the exact right angle and amount of abrupt force needed to get the desired result.
There’s a startled gasp from the girls, and one of the looming guys let’s out a strangled “what the fuck,” but Paulina isn’t done. Quickly she yanks, pulling Ben’s now limp arm down so she can wedge her elbow with his, before snapping it as hard as she can at a perpendicular.
This time it’s the satisfying crunch of bone and with that he crumbles to the floor, wailing.
The smallest guy darts in to help his friend up but the other two seem frozen in shock. Going from their horrified faces no one has ever been bold enough to stand up to them when they traveled in a pack like this.
“Move along boys,” Paulina gives them a smile that is all teeth, something she had learned from Manson, “next time you think about harassing someone just stay in your room with some tissues, it’ll be more productive.”
The last two guys lunge at her then, but their movements grow awkward as they both aim for the same target. One does land a half decent punch to her nose and one tries to get behind her and definitely pulls out some hair with his harsh grip, but neither of them have had to fight in close quarters with others before. it’s easy to catch her palm hard on one guy’s throat and send him down hacking.
The one behind her has the unfortunate fate of getting her nails in his eye, and really now she’s going to have to get them redone because already she can feel two of them catching in flesh and ripping off.
He screams, high and long as his hands yank harshly at hers. She allows herself the brief satisfaction of digging them in deeper for a few more moments before allowing him to push her away.
And with the last guy releasing her to clutch at his face, it’s all over. The other two have already disappeared, and all it takes is one loud step with her heel to send the other two running.
A quick glance shows that Monica and Jessica are still standing near the light, Monica’s pretzels scattered on the floor as she’s holding one of Jessica’s heels like a weapon.
Something in Paulina’s heart warms. It’s nice to know her new friends are willing to protect her, maybe during the summer she’ll invite them to Amity and Valerie can show them how to properly snap someone’s wrist.
“It’s all fine now girls. Oh Monica, you dropped your pretzels! Let's stop by the college store on the way and pick up some new ones. The girl who works the night shift always keeps the best ones in the back of the shelves so there should still be some left.”
“What the fuck?” Jessica whispered.
——————
Dash
This year’s group of freshmen is pretty promising.
Don had been coaching the football team at Ohio State university for almost eleven years now. Most of the boys that he coached had been playing since middle school, and had a decent grasp on the game, if sometimes a little arrogant about their status as ‘college football future all stars’.
Some were always more bone-headed than others, and every year Don could always predict a few of them leaving the program within the year due to an injury from being too reckless.
For all the love he has for his boys, the first proper practice was always one of Don’s least favorites. All the kids want to do is gossip instead of practice, and all the new freshmen try way too hard to make a good impression with the upperclassmen. By the end of the day, every year, he always has to make everyone run suicide’s because the boys were either being too rough or goofing off when they shouldn’t.
Over the years Don has found sprinting to be one of the best punishments for over talkative players, as it has a unique way of getting kids out of breath in a way where they would finally stop yammering on for a few minutes so he could talk to them without dealing with interruptions.
After the third time a freshman decides to describe his summer flings loudly and in graphic detail, Don has had it up to here with these kids. Bragging was for the locker room, not the field.
“Alright! I’ve had enough! Line up at the zero mark, we’re doing suicides for the last ten minutes of practice.”
There’s the usual amount of groaning and whining as everyone slowly makes their way over to the zero mark, and one of two even tries to sneak off to the bathroom, but one stern look has them stomping back with the rest of the pack.
“Alright! Everyone here should know what suicides are, but just in case any of you left your brains in the summer heat for too long here’s what your going to do- we sprint to the twenty five mark, then back, then the fifty and back, then the seventy five and back, and finally the opposite goal post and back. You will repeat until my whistle.”
Once everyone is in position Don gives a shrill signal with his little metal whistle, and they’re off.
The first five minutes go by and everything is going as it should, some kids are already slowing down, a clear sign they were not keeping in shape over the summer, and thus ones Don is going to have to push harder to get them back with the rest of the pack.
At the eight minute mark even his juniors and seniors are starting to slow a bit, but the last two minutes of sprints are almost always the hardest, even for the boys he’s been working with since their freshman year.
But, as he looks there’s one kid who isn’t slowing down. He had initially seen the kid’s slightly more sedate pace and internally marked him as a kid who would need a firmer hand, but now it’s obvious he was simply setting a pace for himself, as now almost ten minutes in his sprinting has not slowed beyond what it started as.
In Don’s experience freshman tended to put everything they had into the first three minutes of sprinting, and were almost always the first to sprint to the other side of the field and back, but also meant that they usually didn’t have the stamina to stay sprinting for ten minutes straight.
But this kid is still going. It takes him a minute to place the kid, but after a moment he realizes it’s Baxter, the kid from Amity park.
In most other cases the small town would mean nothing to him, but in this case Amity had enough of a reputation that he had been warned when one of its alumni decided to join his team.
The most haunted town in America. Sounded like a bunch of bullshit in Don’s professional opinion, but enough weird shit had happened the last five or so years that Casper high had gotten in the habit of sending, not warning letters, but an informational packet to schools so they would know what behaviors to watch out for.
Don still remembers three years ago the story of a freshman at Colorado Tech publishing a paper on the effects of being haunted by ghosts and how it affects the perception of mortality for an entire town. The young woman had been a graduate of Casper high, and when invested further it was revealed that this wasn’t some kid trying to be as ridiculous as they could, but an actual, legitimate thing that was still happening in the town.
Hell, he remembers trading emails with Baxter’s English teacher the last few months of the kid's senior year. In most cases it would have been a school counselor that he discussed a kid’s schooling and grades with, but apparently Amity had had a very bad experience in the last few years with ghostly interference and currently didn’t have a dedicated counseling team at all.
Which, Don definitely had opinions about, but the school was doing all it could to help the kids where they could. So Don would at least give them that.
Apparently Baxter had been a pretty big asshole and a bully his first two years of high school, something the school had let slide more than it should have, and had initially been excused or ignored because of his prowess in physical sports. Towards the end of his sophomore year and leading into his junior Baxter has seemed to finally learn and grow from his bullying ways.
Many teachers had observed him becoming, if not kind then neutral to those he had been harassing, and by his senior year was genuinely well liked by most acquaintances and not feared.
Don remembers the report from the recruiter that had gone down to Amity to observe the team, and nothing they had observed had even hinted that Baxter or any of his teammates acted in any way different or better then any other team they observed in that period.
At the twelve minute mark everyone else has collapsed near the post, but this kid is still going. After fifteen minutes the kid looks at him intently when he turns back towards him, his seventh time reaching the opposite end of the field, but his pace still hasn’t slowed, and he doesn’t look like he’s in any extreme pain, so Don motions for him to continue, and the kid does so without complaint.
It’s odd, in almost any other situation Don would say the kid had just switched to running, but the motions, the sharp turns and the slightly hunched posture, he's still sprinting.
Don finally calls it at the thirty minute mark, and by now the soccer team has shown up, but everyone seems just a bit too mesmerized by the sight to comment on Don holding the field almost twenty minutes late.
Baxter jogs right over to where everyone is standing slack jawed and casually reaches to drink some of his water. He definitely looks like he just exercised, his whole face is flushed red and his hair has become a solid mass lying flat on his head, but his legs are holding him up and his breathing isn’t the rapid mess he expects from someone having sprinted for half an hour straight.
After Baxter finishes his drink he looks expectedly at him, and after a moment Don shakes himself out of his stupor and motions for the soccer team to take the field.
After they’ve left the football team is still hovering around the bleachers, likely wanting to get the first chance to hound the kid for answers or beg him to spill his secrets. Don’s at least a little more subtle than that.
After checking that everyone else is ready he releases them and with some reluctance the rest of the kids leave for the locker room.
Baxter hasn’t moved, likely sensing that Don has questions.
“Kid, I say this as kindly and as without judgment as I can- but how the hell did you do that!”
“Oh, well,” Baxter doesn’t look nervous, but he does seem a bit self conscious, a small sign he has hopefully matured from the pompous bully he was said to be. “Coach Tellestaff back home was pretty insistent that we learn how to sprint for long periods of time in case something was chasing after us that wouldn’t grow easily tired, so we usually did sprints at least every other day.”
“That’s an… interesting motive. Did you often find yourself in situations running from things like that? Back home?”
“Uh well it wasn’t an every day kinda thing, but at least once every other week a ghost would attack the school, and in situations like that you wanted to be as far away from the fighting as possible.”
“Well, I just want you to know it was extremely impressive, you must have worked hard to be able to do what we just saw now.”
“Ha, that’s nothing! Two of my best friends, Paulina and Star, could sprint half way across town in heels. They offered to teach me and Kwan, but to be honest we were a little worried that we’d break our necks falling or somehow impaling ourselves with those five inch torture devises.”
——————
Tucker
There are many things Tucker enjoys about college. Not having to wake up before ten am most days? Amazing, let’s him get so much more work don’t and he can tinker into the night without worrying about his parents having to barge into his room the next morning because he overslept.
Not having to be ready to fight ghosts 24/7? A goddamn lifesaver. After four years the ghosts who frequented Amity had calmed down enough that they weren't all chomping at the bit to cause as much mayhem as possible. Danny had also gotten Wulf to show him how to make dimensional portals, so he could fight ghosts in the Zone without destroying the town. It helped that Danny had set it up so he visited Amity at least every third week for a few days, both to check in with the more peaceful ghosts who called Amity home, and to make sure his parents hadn’t caused any more trouble than they could handle themselves.
One thing Tucker really enjoyed about college was the extracurriculars. Casper high had band, football, and a few small after school clubs, but no big organized programs beyond that that could compete in competitions.
But now, at Tech, Tucker had found his people in the robotics team. Ever since that first freshman orientation where they were introduced to all the clubs Tech has to offer, where Tucker found a group showing off a robot they built that poured drinks without overflowing or knocking them over.
He had signed up then and there, and from that point forward every Monday and Thursday night were for Robotics, and Thursday and Saturdays were fuck around nights where they had almost unrestricted access to the lab and were able to test out personal projects or ideas that they might not want to hand over to the team.
Official work nights were also fun, and definitely a bit more informative with their teacher around to help them expand upon their ideas. they would share and explore code together, and discuss what they could build for the numerous robotics competitions held throughout the year.
Tucker loved participating in these events, but this upcoming one was promising to be his favorite. This competition has a very special individual event that offered a huge cash prize, and Tucker was determined to get it. A few of his friends were also competing, but most had wanted to focus solely on their big team project.
Now, Tucker loved his team, but they did tend to get a bit squeamish when he pulled parts from non-standard scraps. Having a friend like Sam meant that he had access to what was considered modern material that had already lived its course, like recently released phone models, for example. Like now, where he was cannibalizing a few very new devices for their cameras to make a drone with a multi-directional camera.
“Dude, is that an iPhone 14?” Roberto looked absolutely appalled from where he was hovering over Tucker’s workstation.
“Oh yeah, a lot of their components are shit, meant to be obsolete in like two years so you’ll have to buy another one, but I’ve found the cameras aren’t half bad once you put them on something that isn’t meant to shit itself in a year.”
“Well yeah, everyone knows most super modern phones are kinda garbage, but this hasn’t even been released onto the general market yet!”
“Oh, well my friend Sam gave some of her family’s old versions, apparently they don’t fare well after possession.”
“Possession?” Now Cassius has floated over from their project in trying to make better AI detection software, “Dude, are you still keeping up that joke about Amity and how haunted it is? I thought we had convinced you that you didn’t need to tell these crazy stories for us to want to hang out with you?”
Well, that’s rather rude of them, but as Tucker winds up and is about to begin his by now long rehearsed speech on how Amity is absolutely fucking haunted there’s a buzz from his pocket, and when he checks it’s Jazz, who in his long experience never calls without reason.
“Well.. hold on, I gotta take a call real fast.” Tucker pulled out his trusty pda, which over the years he had tinkered with enough that its internal workings barely resembled the device he had gotten his first week in high school. He had kept the outer shell mostly unchanged because after seven years, turns out he had gotten pretty fond of it.
“Hey ya! Everything ok?”
Turns out Maddie and Jack had accidentally created a small anti-matter gun when trying to find a way to make a portable portal, and Jazz was hoping he could stop by with Danny in the next ten minutes to find out how it worked in the first place and maybe accidentally destroy it or make it unusable so they would think the first success was a fluke.
“Yeah, absolutely,” Tucker glanced at his teammates who were looking at his pda like it had personality offended them, “tell Danny to hop right over.”
“Oh my god, don’t you still use a pda?” Roberto whispered in horrified awe after Tucker had ended the call, “There’s no way it can hold up, it can’t be compatible with other phone providers. It could barely be considered functional when it was first released!”
“Oh jokes on them,” Tucker checked that everything was off at his station and that there was no exposed wiring that someone could get hurt by, “like hell I’m paying for something that already exists and should be free to access.”
There’s a ripping pop behind them, and he turns around with a grin to see Danny holding the dimensions open for him.
“Well, we can argue the amazingness of my darling at a later date, I should be back in less than an hour, if not make sure you get at least one meat-lovers for me tonight, I’ll Venmo you the cost when I get back!”
“Well,” his teacher grumbles, “At least he turned his project off this time, the fire was hell to deal with last year”, is the last thing he hears before the portal closes around them.
——————
Kwan
Julius hadn’t really wanted to work at their college’s discount coffee shop during their junior year, but over the summer their parents had helped them track down the perfect car for them, and after some haggling their parents had bought it for them at a steal. But now Julius had to pay for their own gas, and having their own car meant more temptations, like 3am Nasty Burger on the other side of town, which they could finally drive to on their own without having to bully one of their friends to come over and drive them.
Luckily it wasn't too hard to get the position, they had applied early enough that most other kids were still enjoying their summers, so a month before school Julius officially had their first job.
All of Julius’ coworkers were very nice, and even after they had finished training no one hesitated to help if they were confused about how to make a drink or about a certain procedure.
Winston and Bella both came from New York, and enjoyed trying to gross the other out with increasingly outrageous drink combinations. Zack was from Washington state, and seemed to genuinely enjoy the intricacies of coffee itself. Darius, Kassidy, and Shaun were all locals who loved to recommend places nearby to eat and hang out. Victor came from the same area as Julius, and was in the process of illustrating his first book.
Kwan came from a small town in the Midwest, and was one of the most genuinely friendly people Julius had ever met.
When Julius’ car had refused to start one morning Kwan was the first person they called, and had shown up without complaint at seven in the morning to drive them to work, then afterwards helped them set up an appointment with a friend of a friend's mechanic who helped fix their car for an absurdly reasonable price.
On most days things were pretty slow until ten or so in the morning. The store itself was very small, with only a cafe area and no drive through, and the owners still refused to sign any deals with third party companies so no doordash or Uber eats. It means that a three man team could comfortably work the store at any one time, and maybe on holidays they would bring an extra person in to help the midday shift when all the college kids decided to study in packs and take up every available seat they had.
Today, however, looked like it was going to be a shitshow.
Victor had called out at the last minute, she had fallen in the shower and heavenly twisted their ankle, and given that it was spring break there was no way anyone who hadn’t already been scheduled was going to come in to cover.
Spring break also meant they were staying busy much later into the afternoon than usual. On a normal Thursday by 4pm the ravenous packs of college kids would have mostly cleared out to go to afternoon classes, and all that was left were local working adults looking for overpriced coffee and free WiFi, and kids who didn’t have classes that day.
But now at almost seven pm the store is still packed. There were two groups taking up most of the more lounge-y seating, an older man having a very heated debate on his phone, and a kid hanging by the bathrooms watching YouTube without headphones. Overall it was much louder then Julius was usually comfortable with for an extended period of time.
But the current source of conflict was a younger woman looming over the counter that separated the customer area from where drinks were made.
Her drink had taken a bit because she had ordered right after the two rowdy groups of kids, and Julius had been taught to make drinks in order of who placed their order first, not on whose order it would be easier to do.
Well, technically.
In practice people did orders out of order all the time, but the woman had pissed Julius off with her attitude and her visible sneer when she had noticed the pronoun pins everyone was wearing.
So, they would follow protocols exactly, just for her.
Her drink itself wasn’t too difficult, and in situations like these Julius always wished they could just tell customers they were better off buying the ingredients and making it for themselves at home, not spending almost ten dollars on lackluster taste.
Julius handed the coffee over to the glowering woman, and was just getting ready to signal to Shaun that they were going to go to the back to work on dishes when there was a very pointed cough and an aggravated sigh from across the counter.
“This doesn’t taste right.”
The woman’s bright purple lipstick has already stained the lid of the cup, so at least they know she actually tried it, but still. It was a regular old white chocolate coffee, with no special addendums or bells and whistles to it. And while they haven’t been working here for the years that others may have, Julius has over six months of working here to know that they made that drink correctly.
But, deep sigh, assume the best.
“Oh, I’m sorry, could you tell me what was wrong about it so we can remake it for you?”
“It just tastes wrong! I have ordered this drink every day for the last three months, I know what it should look and taste like, and this is wrong!”
The commotion had caught Kwan’s attention from where he was restocking their cups and espresso beans, and he moved over to draw the woman’s attention from Julius to himself.
Thank god, Kwan was the best with asshole customers. Julius thought if they had to deal with this woman for too much longer they might make their disdain too obvious, and then they would have a whole ‘nother problem in the woman saying they were being unkind to them.
Julius still remembers Kwan warning them about unsavory customers their first week.
Julius had been nervous because all their work in high school had been volunteer, and not in situations where people generally would complain to them about something being miss made, or just the general shit they knew true customer service often involved dealing with.
“How do you really deal with bad customers?” It’s slow right now, but just twenty minutes ago there had been a literal crowd of people in their cafe, and some had been very irate that their drinks were not magically appearing before them. Julius had been keeping their head down, attempting to make drinks as quick as they could without drawing attention, while Kwan and Bella helped dole out food and placate everyone.
“Well, that kind of depends,” Kwan makes a seesaw motion with his hand, “sometimes there’s a genuine mistake in the making of the drink or when it was ordered, and the customer is respectful in politely asking for a remake. In those cases you just simply make it again for them, and everything moves on.”
“But that’s not always the case.” Even if social media wasn’t what it was, Julius remembers the horror stories various friends had told them over the years. They’ve seen it first hand plenty of time already, but there’s always been someone nearby to help deal with it.
“Ah, no,” Kwan glances out towards the now calm cafe, “I know when the owners hired you they must have made a big stink about always being approachable and how the goal is for customers to feel welcome and comfortable here. But in practice it’s-“
“A load of horse shit?”
“-unrealistic. Sometimes people think something is wrong with the drink and demand it be made again, but they won’t tell you why. Or it’ll be wrong in some unhelpful way, like it tastes wrong or they can’t taste a flavor even though you know you added exactly as much as they asked for. In those situations you kinda just have to make it again, and hopefully this time they’ll be satisfied. If they want it remade more than twice, that’s generally the point where you politely tell them that it seems we can’t reach their standards, and that they might want to try another location.”
“What about people who just want a free drink?”
“We make it for them, if they’ve already touched it we can’t take it back anyway, so just make them another.”
“Jeez, you're definitely nicer than me about this.”
“Oh I know they’re not all in the right, but sometimes all you can do is smile and hope they leave quickly after you’ve fixed their drink for them.”
Even now, It’s almost supernatural how calm Kwan is in the face of others' anger.
“Yes ma’am, I completely understand,” and oh Kwan is giving her an absolutely dazzling smile, “we will absolutely get that drink remade for you right away.”
He’s speaking perfectly calmly, not an ounce of annoyance or anger in his tone, but all the same Julius sees the woman almost shrink back.
Julius knows part of the whole customer service shtick was to always appear pleasant and to never show anger towards a customer. But what Kwan is doing now goes way past that.
He’s kept direct eye contact with the woman since she started complaining, and his smile sits on his face like it was branded there, never wavering. He continues to hold eye contact as he remakes the drink, which a small part of Julius finds super impressive, and by the end of it the woman snatches her new drink out of Kwan’s hand and swiftly exits the store like she was being chased.
“Well, I hope she was satisfied this time, you go ahead and head back to do those dishes I saw you eying, I can hold the fort down for now.”
——————
Star
It’s almost four in the morning and Star is maybe just starting to get a little worried. She knows Paulina can take care of herself! She’s seen it! But, she still holds the right as best and oldest friend to worry about her when she goes off to three am frat parties.
Just as Star is about to call Paulina in the hopes that her phone isn’t sitting forgotten on a table somewhere, there’s the sound of locks clicking before Paulina and their two other roommates step into their little common room.
Paulina walks in with Jessica and Monica practically on her heels, and once all three were in the room Jessica turned and swiftly re-locked all the locks, and even grabbed the door jammer Monica’s mom had brought over and swiftly put it in place, making the door about as secure as it could be.
The space is a little bit cramped, four girls who all brought probably more stuff to college then they probably needed meant that most everything was an organized mess and there was not too much of the floor actually visible at any given moment.
Suitcases were still sitting unpacked by the door. Star and Paulina had visited Amity just last week to see their parents and pick up their winter clothing that they hadn’t brought with them initially because they had needed the room for all their fall clothes.
The first smell to meet her is obviously alcohol, but after that initial overwhelming moment the iron-y tinge of blood starts to permeate the room.There’s no growing puddle on the floor, and no one’s screaming for an ambulance, so it’s hopefully nothing life threatening.
As the three stand in the middle of the room Star instinctively scans them for visible injuries.
Monica and Jessica look very shaken up, but there’s no forming bruises and there’s no obviously ripped clothing.
Paulina on the other hand looks quite disheveled. A quick glance shows a growing bruise around her nose, and a finger missing a nail is already swelling.
“Oh no, what happened!” Paulina didn’t usually let things escalate to physical harm, not unless she felt seriously threatened.
“We’re fine, Star,” Paulina finally moved to take off her heels, a sign she at least wasn’t getting ready to head out again, “it was nothing, some boys with overinflated egos thought they could have their way with us on the way back from Brad’s party. Brad’s? Thad’s? The senior who told all the freshmen that his party would have free beer and all the freshmen didn’t think twice about the quality.”
“Was it at least good beer?”
“Hell no, I wouldn't even use it to disinfect my wounds, not even as an ice pack.”
They both laugh at that. Back home, everyone knows which beers are worth drinking to numb pain, and which are better used to try and soothe sore muscles.
“That is, not what I think we should be focusing on right now.” Monica sounds out of breath, clutching a large container of pretzels like it’d a shield. Star recognizes the brand from the school store, and Paulina must feel particularly close to these two if she let them in on how to get the good pretzels.
There’s another long moment of silence, before Jessica suddenly bolts towards the bathroom she shares with Monica.
“Oh, poor dear,” Paulina looks sadly to where her friend disappeared to, “I was worried that would happen, Monica at least had food to help her keep anything down, but the last thing Jessica ate was that nasty burger at lunch today, I think everything just finally caught up to the poor girl.”
“Well at least it’s just cheap beer, Jessica would have a conniption if she found out she threw up wine more expensive than her whole dorm room.”
With the metaphorical ice broken Star beckons Paulina over to the couch while she grabs the kitchen medical kit. Not as big as the one at home, but it at least has the necessities to treat small injuries.
Returning to the living room sees Paulina relaxing into the couch, with Monica hovering nearby. After a moment of hesitation the other girl collapses onto their smaller couch, still holding onto the pretzels.
With a closer look the bruise seems to be the only injury Paulina sustained, but her hair seems frazzled from possibly being pulled, and two of her fingers on the right hand are missing their nail extensions. There’s starting to be some serious discoloration at the joints of the fingers, a sign they’re probably out of their sockets.
“Well at least it isn’t too bad, I can grab an ice pack for your face and nose, but we’re going to have to pop your fingers back into their joints.”
“Wait wait wait,” Monica speaks up from the couch, “wouldn’t it be better to go to a hospital for something like this, you can seriously mess up your body if you pop a bone back in place wrong.”
“Oh that’s so sweet, but don’t worry, I have plenty of experience with sprained and broken bones.”
“Even better, didn’t you sew up Manson that one time with the helicopter?” Paulina looks up from where she was inspecting her intact nails, “that has to be at least thirty stitches, and you did it without even flinching!”
“What?”
Oh dear, what Paulina had clearly meant to be encouraging only seems to have made Monica more unnerved and horrified. Which, Star kind of understood, it was scary when your friend got hurt, but Star knew what she was doing, so Monica had no reason to fret.
“Shouldn’t we, um, go to the campus police with this?” Jessica’s voice is scratchy from where she’s leaning out from the bathroom, clutching the doorway.
Monica nods enthusiastically, but Star thinks it is a rather silly idea.
“Ha!” Paulina’s laugh is sharp, “the most that would happen would be that we get told off for being ‘young ladies out drinking late at night without thinking about the consequences’, worst case, I did much more damage to them than they did to me, so if anything I would get charged with assault.”
“But! He was harassing you! Everyone who’s anyone knows Ben has been trying to get into your pants for the last two weeks, it’s obvious he was trying to-“
“Oh like any officer would take my side in that situation. It would be all ‘oh but you didn’t give him a chance’, ‘oh she dresses like that and is surprised when young men take an interest in her’, 'oh but the young man is so nice usually’…”
While Paulina is giving her impassioned speech Star quickly pops the two fingers back into place, each making a satisfying snap pop sound as it’s put back into alignment.
It’s almost enough to cover the sudden sound of violent retching from Jessica and Monica’s bathroom.
———————
+ Danny
Jerome’s Dad is going to be so disappointed with him. Another quick glance at his phone screen reveals that it’s almost eleven pm, and that Jerome has less than an hour to file his taxes.
His Dad had been texting him every day for the past three weeks to remind him that he needed to do them ASAP, but every time he sat down in front of his computer something had come up.
A test to study for, a party he absolutely couldn’t miss, Hillary from calculus asked him to go to the movies with her and from there he might have spent the next three days at her apartment.
He just, he had never found the time. And all those hours sitting on his phone switching between Twitter and Instagram didn’t count, that was his daily time for doom-scrolling and making himself feel bad by seeing how perfect some people’s lives seemed to be.
And now it was tax day, and he hadn’t even bought the filing software until this morning. The poor cashier ringing him out that morning had wished him luck, which he definitely needed.
He needed the job. Getting scholarships had helped, but with his Dad’s single income it was still a very tight fit. Jerome had tried to get jobs as a teen in high school, but every place he had applied to wanted you to already have experience or demanded more hours than he could give with a high school schedule.
Next year Jerome was going to have to pay for at least his own room and board, and part of the tuition based on what was estimated his scholarships could cover. His Dad had emphasized that if he didn’t feel comfortable he could always come home, but so much of their savings was going towards his degree, Jerome couldn’t waste it. And Jerome liked the idea of having some spending money that he had earned himself, having his own pocket change meant he could buy books or replacement parts for his guitar without feeling guilty about using his rather limited personal savings.
At this point smacking his forehead into the desk might not be productive, but it does feel deserved.
“What’s up? Did you finally get a computer virus from all those sketching anime-watching sites?” His roommate Danny had been quietly enjoying his misery for the past half hour. The other boy had just recently gotten back from one of his late night classes, and was hunkered down under his lofted bed, playing Zelda from the sound of it.
“No, it’s- hey! You weren’t complaining when I got us the original Trigun and the Japanese sub for Ghost Stories.”
“Yeah yeah, but really, what’s got you so freaked?”
“It’s just- Oh my god, why did I ever want a job,” he questions the room and the universe at large.
“Uhh money?”
“No no no, don’t be logical with me, let me wallow in my misery for this last hour. God why didn’t I let my Dad help me when he was over for spring break?”
He scrolls through the file once again, but he still cannot make heads or tails about what he is supposed to do. All his frantic googling will tell him is that there’s some form he needs to fill out somewhere, but nothing gives him a straight answer on how filling out this form will help!
“It’s these Tax forms. I bought one of those ‘tax help’ programs but it keeps asking about all these accounts and different bits of personal information that I have no idea if they need to know.”
“Ouch, you waited this long to start?”
“Yes yes, laugh at me later, I think at this point I’m just going to have to call it quits and call my dad tomorrow and pay the late fee.”
“Maybe I could help?”
“At this point I’ll take anything,” Jerome stretched as Danny got up from his fort under his bed and walked the two feet to Jerome’s desk, “I mean you can’t make it any worse than it already is.”
“I mean,” Danny gives a grin that flashes in the low light of the room, “if I filed these horribly wrong you could get a very passive aggressive email from the IRS that you really fucked up and need to re-do your taxes again.”
Jerome has mostly come to appreciate Danny’s humor, bad puns and all, but sometimes the guy can get just a little too deadpan in his delivery. But two can play at that game.
“Maybe I’ll just suffer then-“ Jerome makes a show of trying to shove Danny away from his computer, and the laugh it brings out of Danny makes Jerome feel light.
“No no, kidding,” Danny huffs as he leans in and inspects the mess that is Jeromes’s laptop. “Ok, so what I think you need to do first is find this form here…”
Less than half an hour later Jerome is pressing the file button. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders, enough that he plops down to their slightly Cheeto dust infested carpet in relief.
(Maybe he had been neglecting other things along with doing his taxes.)
“Oh my god you’re a lifesaver!”
Danny grins down at him and offers a hand up, and once he gets to his feet Jerome’s stomach lets out an unhappy gurgle that reminds him he hasn’t eaten since breakfast.
“Wanna go down to the common room and see if Gus left any leftovers from his family’s visit last night? I think he said as long as it was in a blue container any of us could have as much as we wanted.”
“Oh yeah, I’m definitely down!”
They leave the room and arrive in the common area with little fanfare, and within minutes are enjoying some very late night home cooked chicken and rice.
“So, how’d you know how to do taxes?” Jerome asks one his stomach has stopped rumbling about mutiny. “As far as I know that’s not why you stay up until three am watching YouTube, and you said you weren’t going to get a job until next semester when you didn’t have to deal with night classs.”
“Oh yeah, my Mom showed me how to do them for the past few years, she said no one had ever helped her growing up and so she wanted to make sure me and my sister knew how to do them correctly so we wouldn’t stress.”
“Man, that's awesome. I know my dad tried to show me last year, but he already had most stuff auto-completed because of the service he used. So I kinda blew it off and just assumed I would know what to do when the time came.”
“Yeah, most of it is pretty easy, although I know my parents have to file quarterly because they’re self employed and mostly do work with an independent income and not through an established company. My dad showed me some of the forms they had to fill out once, absolutely nightmare inducing. I couldn’t imagine trying to work independently and having that much pressure from the IRS about all those different forms.”
“Why did your parents need to do that?”
“Oh because they’re independent paranormal investigators, they hunt ghosts.”
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princessfanonanona · 2 years
Note
You accepting? Could I please ask for some Clockwork and Danny fluff?
Yeeee give me more excuses to write yes thank you
(Cannot guarantee timely responses but if you send them they'll probably be filled at some point)
---
Danny floats upside down, staring at the collection of gears, springs, bobs and doodads spread out on the table.
He hums, rubbing his chin as he glances back at the mess of a clock that had its innards removed.
"Daniel," an older voice intones making Danny jump.
"I didn't do it!"
Clockwork arches a single eyebrow. "I'm sure."
Danny chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as he floats right-side up. "So uh, whats up?"
"You are supposed to be resting," they say, drifting forward and deaging to infant as they go.
"I know, I just," Danny cuts himself off, glancing at the table.
Clockwork hums as they stop next to him, overlooking the table as well.
"It is an intriguing puzzle," they say.
"Its...fun," Danny admits, dropping onto the floor with a near silent plop.
Clockwork hums, aging up to their adult form. They place a hand on Danny's shoulder to tuck him under their arm.
Instinctually, Danny turns to wrap his arms around them.
"Then I will leave it for you to enjoy it another time but for now, you must rest," they say.
"Really?" He looks up with wide eyes.
"As long as you rest properly," they give him a knowing smile.
Danny stifles a yawn, "mm-fine."
Clockwork turns and leads them put of the room and into the guest room turned bedroom. Dark blues and deep purples swirl the space, interspersed with silvers and white to brighten the space.
Danny drifts away from them to slip under the covers, letting Clockwork Tuck them in properly.
"Grandfather?" Danny asks, voice small as he peers out from under the covers.
Clockwork hums, smoothing the blanket just so.
"Will you tell me a story?"
"Very well," they say, settling back to sit on a curled tail. "Is there one you have particular fondness for?"
"The one in space with the swords."
"..."
"...please?"
Clockwork’s expression shifts to something fond. They brush a hand through Danny's soft white locks.
"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..."
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little-pondhead · 8 months
Text
[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]
It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.
Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.
"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"
Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"
"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"
Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."
Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"
"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.
"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"
The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."
"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.
Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"
...
"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.
"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."
"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"
"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."
Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.
Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.
So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.
Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.
Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.
Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.
But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.
Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."
Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."
"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!
Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.
Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.
Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??
...
Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.
Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.
Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.
When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.
It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.
With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.
Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.
"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.
"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.
It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.
Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.
Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."
The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.
Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."
The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.
"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."
"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."
Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"
Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.
-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-
Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.
"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"
-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-
Grim hissed.
-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-
"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"
Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."
Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."
-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-
"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."
Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"
-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-
Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."
"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."
"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"
-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-
"I'm what?"
"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."
Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"
"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."
"I would never-"
"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."
"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?
"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."
Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."
Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"
"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.
What the fuck.
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escelia · 1 year
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Thank you so much to everyone who enjoyed the first part! I hope I didn't miss anyone in the tags.
You can click here to read the prologue and here to read part one.
Enjoy~
Not So Normal pt2
Bruce had gathered his whole brood in the Batcave for their debrief. This time, Danny included. He'd hoped that one day he would bring Danny down here and tell him all about their nightly activities, just not so soon. His newest son didn't even seem fazed at all by all the vigilantes flooding into the cave. Not that that really meant anything with him floating down through the ceiling with Dick and Damian in hand. To think one of the kids living under his own roof was a meta and he hadn't noticed… he had to step up his game as Gotham's greatest detective.
"Is the Joker alive?" Was Bruce's first question once everyone was situated and settled. He had a personal rule about not killing his rogues, but honestly, after what the Joker pulled, he thought he might be able to overlook it. After all, when an eldritch being takes a life, who is he to argue?
"Of course he's alive! Nobody dies when I get involved." Danny puffed his chest proudly. He hadn't broken his no casualty streak since he started hero work over a year ago. Not many heroes could say that, and Danny worked damn hard to keep it that way.
Bruce let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Out of relief or disappointment, he didn't know.
"Next question. Where and what is 'clown jail?'"
"It's a subspace of the Infinite Realms." The detective tucked that term away for questioning later. "It's a trick I picked up from my Head Guard back in the Realms. It's basically a space where you experience whatever punishment I think fits your crime. But it's all psychological, so no one ever gets hurt there."
"And what's his punishment?"
"Are you a meta or an alien? I can't tell at this point."
"How long have you known about us?"
"Why did you look so different back at the warehouse?"
"You have a Head Guard?"
The questions came in like a flood. Danny flushed at all the attention, unsure where to start first. He looked to Damian for help, but he only folded his arms and smiled smugly. That little traitor! But he supposed that's what he deserved for waiting so long to tell his family. In his defense, the last time he told a family about his abilities he'd ended up strapped to a table with a scalpel poking at his spleen.
"One question at a time, please!” Danny screeched, covering his face in embarrassment. He stared at Damian pleadingly one more time.
"I told you to tell them before something drastic happened, so don't look at me. "
"You knew?" Jason pouted. Damian just smirked and puffed his chest in pride. He knew exactly why Daniel hadn't told them, but had been confident that his new family wouldn't react the way his old one had. Perhaps this would teach Daniel to trust him a bit more. And wasn't it something that Damian wanted Daniel to trust him.
"They aren't like the Fentons, Daniel. You should tell them."
The words were like a balm on Danny's nerves. The others were smiling patiently at him, judgment absent in favor of eager curiosity but not in the cruel way it had been on Jack and Maddie's faces. He took a deep breath before starting in on the details. No place like the beginning, he guessed.
He told them about how he half died when he was 14 and all the abilities he gained as a result. He told them about his hunter parents and his colorful array of rogues turned friends. Bruce had paled considerably when he got to the part about Pariah Dark whisking their town away and his subsequent defeat of the Ghost King. And he looked downright nauseous when Danny detailed his victories over several of the more godlike entities of the Realms, like Overgrowth and Vortex. He left out Dan, skipping to the part where he'd effectively become the ward and apprentice to the Master of Time, Clockwork. And finally, he told them about Jack and Maddie.
When he'd stumbled into Gotham after the vivisection and begged Bruce to take him away, to protect him, "please, I just wanna feel safe again," he'd told him that it was abuse and refused to outline the details. This time, he looked him in the eyes, and with one finger wrapped around Damian's for support, he told his family about how the Dr's. Fenton had cut him open and poked around in the name of science.
"So… you're not a meta?" Duke asked in the silence that followed Danny's confessions. He had to admit he was grateful his brother wasn't dwelling on his past. Damian had been right, they were taking it well. Boy, did he let it show on his face in a typical, 12 year old, "I told you so," fashion.
"I don't have a metagene and I'm technically half-dead, half-alive. Damian used the term Pseudo-Meta. I kinda like it."
"So let me get this straight," Jason began. "Since dying, you won the Ghost King's crown by right of conquest, defeated several godlike entities, who are now your friends, and your mentor is the literal God of time?"
"Pretty much."
"Damn," he whistled. "I don't think I died right the first time. I want a do-over."
Danny snorted in laughter and Damian tutted at him while the others elbowed him in ribs.
"Does that make you a god?" Dick teased.
"I don't think so, but every time I ask Clockwork he gets all cryptic, so maybe?"
Bruce was getting a headache.
~~•○•~~
"Alright, it's time to solve some real mysteries now," Tim said with a gleam in his eyes. They'd migrated up to the kitchen for post patrol cookies. Alfred had been pleasantly surprised when Bruce had explained that, thanks to Danny, everyone had made it home relatively unscathed. And considering they'd had a run-in with Joker, that was worthy of cookies in his opinion.
"Danny, how in the world did you get Damian to stop trying to stab you?"
"Actually, yeah! You guys have gotten really close. What's the secret?" Dick asked with a raised eyebrow. Damian rolled his eyes and answered for Danny.
"I challenged him in combat and Daniel accepted. It's not my fault none of you were intelligent enough to realize it was a bonding tactic." Bruce tried to hide his laughter in his mug while the others blatantly gawked at him.
"No way."
"I have a picture of the first time he managed to graze me in a sparring session! You guys wanna see?" Everyone swarmed him to see the photo. Dick cooed and tried to pinch Damian's cheek, but was met with snapping teeth. Steph, with eyes sparkling, just muttered, "cute," so as not to stir the youngest's ire. Danny ended up promising to send the picture into the group chat later.
"By the way, you never did say what Joker's punishment was," Jason mentioned casually. Danny smiled cruelly, his frosty blue eyes glowing.
"His greatest fear, of course! A prolonged stay in a Gotham that has not nor will ever know the Joker. I swear, I've never met a clown that wasn't a total narcissist." Danny popped the last bite of a cookie into his mouth and dusted the crumbs off on his pants. "No one is allowed to hurt my brothers. Ever."
~~•○•~~
Damian was just about to climb into bed when he heard a knock at his door. He looked up just in time to see Danny phase through it into his room.
"Why even bother knocking?"
"Because it's polite!" Damian rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to say thank you for earlier." He took a seat at the end of the bed and Damian sat next to him, as was tradition for their late night chats.
"I'm the one who should be thanking you," Damian countered. "You weren't ready to tell everyone, and yet you came when I called."
"Of course I did. You're my little brother. And I'd do it for any of you." Danny nudged him with his shoulder, and it earned him a tiny, barely there smile.
"Thank you Danny."
"Using a nickname, huh? Don't let Dick hear that, he'll think you're playing favorites."
"Of course not. I have a reputation to uphold after all. Besides, Richard already thinks you're my favorite. It's giving him a complex."
"Well, aren't I?"
"Tt, don't push your luck."
There was a beat of silence before they erupted into laughter. Danny was so proud that he could make Damian laugh, even if it was more reserved than the guffaws he and their brothers had when they found something particularly funny. He couldn't wait to brag to Jazz about it once it was safe to contact her. If it was safe to contact her.
"I'll see you in the morning," Danny said, leaning lightly against his brother's shoulder in lieu of a hug. He floated over to the door. "Goodnight, Dami."
"Sleep well, Danny."
~~•○•~~
Vlad Masters gnashed his teeth while he stared at the computer screen in his office. First Daniel up and disappeared without so much as a word, and now he was all over the news and tabloids as the newly adopted "Daniel Fenton-Wayne." He was annoyed. He was furious! He was… confused. What had that fool Jack done to get Daniel taken away? Why hadn't Maddie stopped it? How did Daniel end up getting legally adopted by Bruce Wayne of all people? The boy should have come right to him if something was wrong. He deserved it! The boy was his or he was no one's!
The man swatted the mug off his desk. It shattered against the wall.
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jinjeriffic · 2 months
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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3
Part 2
Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!
The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.
“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”
“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”
“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”
Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”
“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”
Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”
“Ah.”
Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.
“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.
Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.
“Your Dad?”
Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.
“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”
Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”
Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”
“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”
“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.
“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.
“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”
Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”
Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”
Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.
“So, con artists or mad scientists?”
“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.
“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.
“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”
“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.
“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.
“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.
“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”
“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”
“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”
Part 4
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flamingpudding · 4 months
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Drake's family secret #2
Previous Part
Tim was prepared, he had done as much research / digging as he could squeeze in between meetings, even going so far as rescheduling some of them to get more time until the tour guide would lead the high school students to his office.
Some things he had found were worrying even to the point of wanting to just take Danny and move him permanently to Gotham. Even if he knew that Gotham wasn't the safest city either. He had seen the other boy's interest in the aerospace department through the cameras, but with his digging he had found that Danny had been on a fast track for a Junior Space Program with the grades to support it.
Diggin that information up had made Tim proud, thinking that if there was something good about the Drake family it was that both Danny and him appear to have a very good set of brain cells. Though that proud feeling didn't last long when he dug further.
Because then an accident happened to him, leaving him with his last medical record stating a heart condition. After that there were no more dated medical records. In addition the timing of the accident lined up with when Danny's grades pummeled. He went from a A student to a C student in the month following the accident. Not only that but it also appeared that he racked up quite the number of teacher complaints to which he then got labeled as a delinquent student in his files.
Tim had narrowed his eyes at the screen as he lined up the timeline, with some additional information he had found about Amity Park. That information had not been easy to dig up, he had rescheduled at least two meetings so he could work uninterrupted on the strange firewalls that were protecting it, and even then he only got a handful of newspaper clips out of it. But that had been enough, for now.
Because Danny Fenton's accident and declining grades lined up with the appearance of a ghost menace hero Invis-o-Bill. A coincidence? Definitely not. Looked like hero-ing wasn't just a Wayne family thing.
Either way Tim had dug up a lot in a short amount of time about his possible brother. He was still missing a lot of puzzle pieces but he figured he could probably get that information once he made a successful first contact with Danny.
Which was about to happen in a little more than 5 minutes.
His eyes flicked to the door, then to the live security camera feet on his laptop. Yep they were right outside his door. Taking a deep breath and closing his laptop Tim moved to lean on his desk from the front, facing the door.
His plan was easy. give the kids a little motivational speech, spout some inspiring nonsense of 'you too can achieve great things' before dismissing cheerfully but hold Danny back, because his last name was Fenton and Tim 'recognised' it from a list of potential scientist to investment. Have a successful talk and show some interest in the - weird he actually didn't want to touch on but probably will have to consider because Danny had an accident that gave him meta powers that made him decide to go out as meta hero - stuff Danny's foster parents were researching. Ruffle his hair and subtitle pluck one of his hairs in that motion.
For a first DNA test that would be enough. Even if blood or spit would definitely be better, since he had no guarantee to also get the hair root if he just plucked one.
When the knock on his door resounded he cheerfully told them to come in and started phase one of his grand first contact plan. If anyone asked him what he told the students afterwards, he probably wouldn't be able to recount anything he told them as 'motivational speech'. He did his best though to not let his eyes constantly wander over towards the boy.
He took a little satisfaction in the fact that one of the two close friends his possible brother had appeared to be starry eyed at the fact that they got to meet him. That definitely would come in handy later on.
When some of the students started to look rather bored with their attention wandering, Tim thought that this was probably the best timing to enter phase two. Dismissing them with some scripted farewell words, he waited a little. As he expected Danny and his two friends lacked behind when the students left his office.
He cleared his throat, catching their attention. "Mr. Fenton?"
Danny looked at him wide eyed as he turned around to stare at him and Tim internally laughed. "Your parents are on our list of Scientists for possible investment. If you have the time, would it be possible to have a little chat right now?"
He noted how Danny exchanged a look with his friends and the girl among them instantly started to glare at him suspiciously as Danny's seemed to narrow. He cleared his throat once more. "I will ensure that you will get safely back to the hotel your school is staying at. I just think this would be the perfect chance to learn a bit more about ecto-science? That was what they called it, right?"
Okay, plan was not going as hoped as Danny was now full on glaring, not as heated as the girl but still glaring. His other friends had now also lost the starry eyed look in his eyes and was watching him with clear suspicion.
Damage control, damage control! Stop sounding so formal! His mind screamed as Tim once more cleared his throat nervously. "If now is inconvenient, maybe we could meet for a coffee later? I really am hoping to learn a bit more than what's written in stuffy reports."
"We got some free exploring time tomorrow afternoon. It's Tim Drake! We could at least hear him out." One of his friends stage whispered to Danny who continued to watch him with narrowed, glaring eyes.
"Tucker, no." Danny whispered back before addressing Tim. "Sorry, I have no interest in my parents work."
Before Tim could say anything else Danny dragged his friends out of his office to catch up with the other students. Leaving Tim stunned before he dragged a hand down his face. So much for phase two of his first contact plan.
"Okay noted, his parents' research is not the best way to open up contact." Tim muttered before walking around his desk and opening his laptop again. He needed to readjust his plans. Luckily one of Danny's friends, Tucker, gave him some valuable information.
Maybe he could convince Steph or Duke to go to the mall with him to make it appear more natural. Dick could also be an option, he was in town at the moment. But either way that would also risk further questions, when he 'coincidentally' ran into Danny Fenton. He didn't think reasoning with Dick about some good old brotherly bonds would distract his eldest brother long enough.
Maybe it was about time to get at least one of his siblings in on the Drake's family secret.
Or not depending, he could also check their exploring route via the city cameras and then just go coincidentally into the same coffee or food place Danny and his friends happened to go to.
Yeah that sounded better than getting his siblings involved already.
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Guys I made a fic about my earlier post if anyone's interested, the first chapter is short because I like where it ends but I'll try to get more words and longer chapters
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