#on camera with jasons dead body

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Jason *walks into a museum*

Jason: I'm here to donate myself

Percy: We don't do that here... and this is a fish museum

Nico, on the side: I'll take your body! I have these funky YouTube videos where I-

Jason: You want my body?

Nico *nods eagerly*

Jason, tearing up: I am wanted

Nico: Yeah. My boyfriend and I are going to dissect you on camera

Percy: Is that legal??

Nico: Shhhhhhh

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Eyes

Dp x Dc Crossover Writing Idea

“Red Robin!”

When he backtracked to find the owner of the voice he was a bit surprised to find a young boy, maybe eight years old if he had to guess, dressed in a red sweatshirt that dwarfed him and a pair of gym shorts that had seen better days.

Not many Gothamites called out to the vigilantes, a silent agreement to stay out of their way and not to look too closely. This kid however stared up at him with bright blue eyes unafraid of getting the Red Robin’s attention.

A fan?

Before he even opens his mouth, the kid gives him a small, hopeful smile, eyes shining with something that reminds him of himself when he was that age and following Batman and Robin with his camera around his tiny neck.

“I brought you a gift,” the boy say with nervous excitement. He enthusiastically swings off the backpack he had on to dig through the contents, taking his eyes off the vigilante and showing his unwavering trust that nothing bad would happen to him while Red Robin was here.

The boy pulls out what appears to be a jar wrapped in newspaper, the worn page ripping in some spots to show the clear glass underneath. Small hands present it like it’s Red Robin’s birthday (which it wasn’t).

He takes it cautiously, the kid hasn’t been hostile but this was still weird, and pulls it closer with enough space so if it’s a bomb it doesn’t blow up in his face.

It’s got weight to it and the slight sloshing tells him it’s filled with liquid. He carefully unwraps the ‘gift’, keeping his eye on the boy who stands waiting anxiously.

Tim almost drops the jar as soon as he sees what’s inside. Only his reflexes from over the years held on and his expression turned neutral.

A pair of eyes sit at the bottom of the jar. The orbs were crudely extracted, tissue floating around them like a mane of hair around a head.

He turns the jar to see the irises and… he knew these eyes. The slimy green is filmed with death, but he recognized these eyes from the number of times the owner locked them onto him, the cruel possessiveness they possessed when they gazed at him. Never again apparently.

Tim doesn’t speak for a while, not knowing what to say, but also thoughts racing too fast to form any proper sentences.

“Do you like it?” The small, nervous voice interrupts those thoughts.

What an innocent question on an equally innocent looking face.

“How did you get Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes?”

The teasing chatter over the comms immediately hushes into shocked silence.

“I took them from his body, so you knew he was dead. I burned the rest so you don’t have to worry about him coming back again. The Pit there is gone anyway,” the child explains easily, not fazed in the slightest from the words he speaks.

“Grandfather is dead?” He hears Damian whisper over the comm.

So many other questions were flying through Tim’s head. He looks the kid over again.

Black hair and blue eyes. In any other situation the kid might have been a possible Wayne adoptee. He’s not a clone from what he can see though. Despite the coloring he doesn’t really look like any of them. Pale skin like Tim, but has freckles. The same kind of nose as Damian, but wide, round eyes. Jaw kind of like Jason, but his body shape is too narrow. Bright, almost icy blue eyes like Dick, but eyebrow shape is flatter. Lip shape like Bruce, but from the kid’s anxious lip biting he could see the faintest trace of dimples.

“Who are you?” He asks instead of the other million and one questions.

The boy blinks almost like he wasn’t expecting the question. He’s cheeks color pink with blush as he grins widely.

“I’m Danny!” He introduces cheerfully like he didn’t just hand a vigilante a jar of eyes.

“Hi, Danny,” Tim greets almost dumbly. “Want to tell me why you gave me this?”

Danny scoffs his shoe against the pavement in what appears to be embarrassment.

“Well, I know when you ask someone for something, it’s nice to give a gift or something. Like I did something nice for you so maybe you’ll do something nice for me?”

He takes a moment to absorb that child-like reasoning.

“So you want me to do something for you and you thought I would like Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes in exchange?”

Danny studies him and fidgets with the large sweatshirt sleeve.

“I just thought you would like proof. Like the whole ‘bring me the heart of my enemy’ kind of thing. Do you not like it? I couldn’t just take a picture ‘cuz I didn’t have a camera with me, I know you like photography. I can do something else for you if it’s not enough,” he offers worriedly.

Tim freezes.

“How do you know I like photography?” He demands.

Danny tilts his head curiously.

“Because Tim Drake likes photography,” he says like it’s obvious, “and you’re Tim Drake.”

Well. This is less than ideal.

“Red Robin, take him back to the Cave,” Batman instructs over the comms.

Yeah, he was getting there.

“Do you know the other’s’ identities?”

Danny nods and hums affirmatively. Tim waits.

“Oh! Yea. Batman is Bruce Wayne. Robin is Damian Wayne. Red Hood is Jason Todd. Nightwing is Richard Grey-“

“Okay. That’s enough.”

Tim glances around the empty alley they were standing in, checking to make sure no stray people heard. Luckily they were truly alone.

“Danny, do you want to come back with me?” He asks, but it’s not really a question. The kid was coming back regardless, it would just be better if he went willingly.

Unsurprisingly, the kid lights up like a little sun at the offer.

“Really?” He nearly shouts in excitement.

“Yeah, kid. I parked my bike a few blocks from here. You ever rode a motorcycle before?”

Danny shakes his head, nearly bounding on his toes.

“Not in this lifetime.” And wasn’t that odd wording? “Are we gonna grapple there?”

“Think you can hold on?”

“Yeah!”

He kneels down so the boy can climb onto his back and lock his arms around his neck and hook his feet together around his torso. Danny is worryingly light as he stands.

The kid is the picture of an excited and overeager child as they carefully fly over rooftops and then drive back to the Cave. Even when they park inside the safety of the Batcave, Danny’s eyes are filled with child-like awe and wonder, so curious and chattering with questions and wild imagination. It would be cute, endearing even, if the jar of eyes wasn’t sitting heavily in his pocket.

Alfred came down not too long after their arrival with a tray of healthy snacks and some waters. Danny happily munches on the apple slices as he wanders around where Tim can see him.

The rumble of the Batmobile can be heard almost an hour later after Tim has to tell Danny not to touch the weapons for the fourth time. The kid’s attention is drawn to the sleek black vehicle as it parks by Tim’s bike. He trots over with wide eyes as the doors open and Robin exits, then Batman.

Unfortunately, Dick is in Bludhaven and Jason is visiting Roy and Lian this week. Cass and Steph were gone as well and Duke was sleeping. It was just the three of them and this kid with Alfred as the only buffer.

Danny stares openly, curious, as the duo makes their way over to the computer where Tim has claimed his sit.

Tim turns the jar that he set on the table so the eyes are facing them and slowly leans back again, suddenly very tired. Damian flexes his hands into fists tightly while Batman is very still.

“Hi,” Danny chirps like nothing is wrong, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Batman takes a measured breath. Robin glares down at the child, but remains silent for now.

“Who killed Ra’s Al Ghul?”

Danny blinks blankly.

“Nobody.”

“You’re saying he just dropped dead?” Damian sneered in sarcasm.

“Death took him,” the child says simply as if that explained everything.

“How?” The word is demanded and emphasized.

“Like Death takes everyone. His expiration was overdue.”

Bruce frowns and Damian almost snarls.

“I demand you start making sense!”

Danny glares back in offense.

“I’m being very clear! Maybe you should ask better questions!”

The twelve year old growls at the smaller child and Batman has to place a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from attacking.

“Danny?” Batman questions after a tense moment.

The boy’s arms are crossed in irritation, but he blinks out of his glare to stare up at the man.

“Yea?”

“How do you know our identities?”

“Oh, memories.”

Danny looked like everything he said made sense and it was driving Tim up a wall.

“Memories,” Bruce repeats.

“Uh-huh,” Danny nods confidently. “From the Lazarus Pit.”

A jolt goes through Tim as he recalls what the boy said earlier about the Pit.

“Didn’t you say the Pit was gone?” He asks before Bruce could continue his line of questioning.

Danny turns with a bright smile as if he was proud Tim remembered.

“Yea! Well, gone from this world anyway.” Tim was concerned. “I took the memories from it before sending it back where it belongs.”

“Okay. How did you know how to ‘take the memories’ and send it back? Back where?”

“I was born from it. Duh. It went back to the Realms or I guess you’d call it the Afterlife,” Danny actually rolls his eyes as if they should already know this.

“Born from it?” Damian asks with a wavering voice, hidden well from the child but not from them. “Nothing has ever been born from the Pits.”

“That you know of.”

And wasn’t that the kicker.

“So, to clarify, you come from the Pits. You know who we are because you took the memories from said Pits. Death took Ra’s because his time was up. And you took the eyes from his corpse to give to me because you thought I would like it as a gift so I would do something for you.”

Danny positively beams.

“This is why you’re my favorite!”

Damian grinds his teeth harshly.

“What is it you want Red Robin to do for you?” Batman asks in strangled hesitation.

“Oh!” Danny perks up like he remembered and hops over to Tim with pleading hands. “Can you please make me an identity? You’re really good at all that stuff and I was hoping you could find me a family. Someone to adopt me. A nice family, with a bed and family dinners and a dog. I always wanted a dog.”

Tim has the sudden urge to scream.

[razzledazzle0]

Keeping up with the Waynes

image if the batfam had a show like 'keeping up with the kardashians??

---

Cameraman: Ok Mr.Wayne the cameras will be on everyone at all times

Bruce annoyed that Dick agreed to this: alright.

---

Jason: Damian I need my book back.

Damian who is bluntly holding Jason's 'pride and justice' book in his hand: I don't have it.

Jason: its right there in your hand!

Damian moving so the book is behind him: what? no it isint

Jason:..

Jason later doing a solo shot: Damian likes to gaslight me.

------------------

Dick and Jason fighting:

Dick: what do you want me to apologize?!

Jason getting pissed off: That's exactly what I want you to do!

Dick smirking: over my rich hot dead body!

Tim and Damian are shouting: fight fight!

Tim: 20 bucks Jason wins

Damian smirking: $50 that they both get too tired and just pass out

Tim: Deal.

the camera pans to Jason death rolling dick on the floor:

they had to cut the cameras..

------

Dick just trying to be dramatic: and then he broke up with ME!

Tim:..that's rough

-------

Tim: today I'm going to show you how to make my favorite drink. First, you get a cup of coffee. Then you grab a red bull and you pour it into the cup.

Bruce: Tim, I'm officially banning you from using the coffee machine

Tim who lets go of his cup, stares into the camera like the office: I'm a bout to beat this bitch up.

Tim ends up going feral mode which leads to Bruce just grabbing him and carrying him to bed

-------

Duke: As you can see here, we have Jason vs. Steph who will win the theater rap battle!

-------

The camera pans to Cassandra dancing before Damian pops up infornt of the camera.

Damian: wanna see something cool :D

Cameraman: uh..sure-

Bruce: Damian wayne! what did I say about stabbing people? he grabbed Damian by the scruff of the neck, shows that he was hiding a knife behind his back.

Cameraman: ....

---

Babs: Im the only sane one

Cameraman: I can see that

[deadsetobsessions]

Jason cursed. This is on par for most of his evenings, as it was rare that he ever got a peaceful night. However, this? This takes the goddamn cake and smashes it on his face.

Red Hood stood, with a portable wet vacuum in his halo bed hands, cursing everything in the world as he cleaned and followed the small puddles of Lazarus water. The people in the streets give him a wide berth, having long learned the intricacies of Red101: if the Red Hood is doing weird shit but there’s no gun in his hand, you make sure you’re not the reason he’ll have a gun in his hand.

“O, you there?”

“Copy.”

“Mark this priority, would you?” His voice is tense, pissed. “Some bastard’s dripping Lazarus water all over my territory.”

A pause.

Oracle’s calm voice flowed through his helmet, “Then we’ll have to watch out for League influence. I’ll let the others know. Red Robin?”

Red Robin chimed in, “Yeah, already on it. It’s weird though, Ra’s isn’t supposed to be here for another two and a half weeks.”

“And how would you know about my grandfather’s movements?”

“Careful, Robin, I might become your grandma!” Red Robin chirped sadistically, before clicking off his comms, snickering at Robin’s spluttering.

“Jesus fuck. I’ll try to hunt down the bastard from the ground. O?”

“Can’t help you. The cameras around your area has been scrambled for the last half an hour.”

“Shit.” Red Hood tensed, one hand going for his pistol as the street’s current inhabitants wisely vacated the area.

“Hood. Don’t go in alone. It could be a trap.”

“Whatever, B, you’re not the boss of me.”

“Give me three minutes. I’m close by. Do not go in without back up, little wing.” Nightwing piped in, and Red Hood could hear the faint whooshing noises of a quiet grapple.

“Cass and I are close by as well. Staking out a place but we could be on standby if needed.”

Two taps. Cass’ tacit agreement.

“Got it.”

When Nightwing gets there, they follow the trail into a dead end with no sign of any scaling of the wall or secret passages.

“Fuck! What the fuck are we chasing, a ghost?”

“Don’t even joke like that-” Nightwing said. “You’ll set Red off again.”

Jason kicked at the wall.

“Fuck!”

——

On the other side of the wall, thirty minutes earlier:

“Life is like a hurricane, here in Duckberg…” Danny mumbled as he stumbled away. He’d saved his alley kids from a pretty serious mugging that ended with a stabbing that Danny foolishly allowed to touch him because he wanted to keep the wicked looking knife. Normally, he’d be able to brush this off, but with his recent injuries, mental stress, and the lack of food that is the hallmark of a homeless teenager, Danny barely kept himself conscious as he stumbled into a particularly dense in ectoplasm dead end.

“Napping place… napping place…” Danny mumbled before eyeing the brick wall. Yeah, okay, he’s slept in weirder places. He could sleep in the dumpster, but… he’d smell and Danny could not handle an infection. So, he went intangible, invisible, and pulled the knife out of his body. As he settled in (quite literally into) the stone wall for his nap, Danny manages to mold his ectoplasm to hold his cut up stomach together.

Danny allows sleep to take him, blissfully unaware of the glowing green puddles of ghost blood he’d left behind.

——

Jason, terrified: he’s in the walls!! He’s in the fucking walls!

Danny, quoting vines and tiktoks while napping in walls for that back support option: thanks for checking in! I’m still a piece of GaRBaGe.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 26 - "Honestly, why would I care?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

A/N: A quick short one, inspired by a TikTok video I saw. Also as always... I am impatient in posting it.

"You're not my dad, yet."

"Get out of the spaceship. I am your dad, Phantom."

"You're not my dad."

"I am your Dad. The papers are already submitted! Get out of the spaceship."

"I am in a spaceship and you're not."

"I will literally drag you out of the damned space ship."

"No! I'm literally in a spaceship, you're not. You are not my dad."

"Literally get out of the spaceship. It's rude to others!"

"Tell me it's rude, I don't give a fuck!"

The bat kids exchanged amused glances. Red Robin and Spoiler had their phones out filming the entire situation. Red Hood was already downed, laughing to the point that his gut started hurting. Nightwing tried to be polite and not laugh but his shoulders were shaking. It was only a matter of time before he would break two. Black Bat was also shaking in silent laughter while Signal watched on, torn between horror, amusement and worry. Robin had his arms crossed watching stoically but for some reasons was sporting a proud smirk.

"Shouldn't you kids try to help Batman?" Superman next to them carefully asked his eyes going back and forth between Batman's kids and the ongoing situation before them.

"And ruin Phantom's mood? Do you have any idea how hard it was to even make him leave the lab? This is the first time in days that I am seeing him smile. Do not ruin his good mood." Robin countered, giving the hero a quick glare before eyes turning back to his father and phantom still arguing.

"Besides, this is the first time we get to see B arguing with a little kid like this. None of us managed to drive him to that point yet." Nightwing added grinning.

"How long has it been since B had submitted the adoption papers?" Red Robin asked, looking at them over his shoulder, his handy camera focused on the phantom who now had started to stick his tongue out and blow raspberries at Batman as an argument point.

"Two days." Signal answered easily, finally deciding to be just amused with the situation.

"Phantom! Get out now!"

"Over my already dead body!"

"And how long since B had actually slept?" Spoiler questioned next in between giggles.

"He's been working on Phantom's case without sleep for four days now." Nightwing grinned. "I will add Phantom claiming a spaceship to the methods on how to get B of the Batcomputer."

"Will you at least do something? You're the one that usually mainly uses it!" Superman turned towards Martian Manhunter only for the other hero to shrug.

"Honestly, why would I care? As Robin said, Phantom appears to enjoy his time quite a lot. And considering what he had gone through, who would I be to ruin it for such a young hero?"

"Phantom!"

"NO!"

"We gotta send this to Agent A later!" Jason gasped between his laughter. Nightwing's phone pinged with a message from Oracle and the eldest Bat kid showed it to the others with a bright grin.

"Already done. O is giving him a live feat of this on the Batcomputer."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Ghost king danny goes on a reincarnation vacation to the dc universe by ClockWork, he ends up as a mortician/coroner and chats up the dead and is super creepy and has to go to Arkham to claim a body there (idk how-) and ends up freaking out the prisoners but also makes some friends and is just all around having a good time and Batman is concerned why this guy just feels weird and why Jason likes him enough to call him a friend

"This is Daniel Fenton." Bruce starts clicking the button on his wrist computer so an image of a young man in his early twenties appears on the hologram. "He is the mortician working at Gotham Funeral Home and Crematorium. Recently, he has been the talk of the underworld for his actions in Arkham."

"Actions?" Tim asks, reading over the files that Bruce had downloaded into their own wrist computers. He pauses at the old-school photo of Daniel Fenton smiling shyly at the camera. Two rows below him is Jason's equally bashful smile when he was fourteen.

Huh.

"A patient was found dead in her room. Daniel went over to claim the body, but while there, he made a few of the inmates uncomfortable." Bruce pulls up a security camera footage of Fenton strolling down the hall, pushing the cart with the body covered by a white sheet.

The way his lips are shaped tells the Bats he whistles even if there is no sound.

It looks normal- even if he seems just a tad too cheerful for picking up a dead person- until he passes by Two-Face's room. The man flipped his quarter and then started shouting at Fenton.

They couldn't make out his words, but whatever the mortician said had Two-face laughing so hard he fell to the ground.

Then, the camera glitched as if there were some kind of interference. They watched it clear up with Fenton walking away and Two-Face sitting on the ground, staring at a wall with a blank expression.

"What happened?" Dick asks.

"It's unclear what Fenton did to him, but Harvey has been unresponsive since. This was three days ago."

"Shit," Steph swears, which pretty much sums up everyone's thoughts.

"Yeah, Danny has that effect on people," Jason speaks up, shrugging his shoulder at the looks he receives. "What? Danny has always been weird, but I doubt he is dangerous."

"You are acquainted with Fenton?" Damian asks, and Jason shrugs again.

"We were in the same graduating class. I spoke to him more after I died and came back, but I wouldn't meet up with him for a drink or anything."

"You don't drink."

"Exactly, Timbos."

Bruce clears his throat. "In any case, I want you all to keep an eye on him."

"B, seriously, the guy is harmless. He cried the other day over a book character's death-"

"How would you know that?" Cass cuts Jason off, a teasing smile on her face even though her eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

"We're in the same book club. Not another word." Jason grunts.

Dick, who has been staring at the class photo that Tim has seen, snaps his figures. "I know him! He's the weird kid who told people he was the reincarnation of the Ghost King on vacation! Claimed he was a powerful afterlife entity. Didn't you get caught with him behind the bleachers, Jason-"

"Shut it Dickface!" Jason screeches face a bright red suddenly. " That was one time, and I was fourteen!"

Bruce's frown is suddenly more profound. "I had forgotten about that particular detention. Jason, are you compromised for this mission?"

"What!? I am not!" The second oldest yelled, balling his hands "In fact, I bet I could get Danny to tell me what he did!"

"Good. Go get that done." Dick waves his hand at him in a dismissive motion. "Don't come back without the little crazy mortician's number."

Tim smiles as Jason explodes, but his eyes never leave Heavy Dent's image on the security camera. There is something about the way his eyes are hazy that set bells off in his head.

He is sure he sees flashes of green on Dent's pupils. He saw similar flashes in a file inside the League of Assassins while searching for Bruce.

It was the warning of ghosts.

Was Fenton's teenage lies not so fatuous after all? He'll have to investigate.

Master Post Link

[jaythes1mp]

Do you think readers' lives would be different if they were a deer hybrid?

Fun Fact: Did you know that cervids (from the deer, deer and elk family) are considered extremely sensitive animals. When suffering severe stress, such as when captured or rescued, for example, the animal's reaction can cause what is called 'capture myopathy' ', which compromises the organism of these animals.

I do, actually. Because, another fun fact! In June of this year me and my roommate saved a baby deer who was laying next to her mums dead body (she was less than 48 hours old). Fortunately she wasn’t injured. We were extremely lucky to be living next to a wildlife specialist, our neighbour, who’s been looking after Astrid and will continue to until she’s old enough to be relocated. Thankfully this wasn’t the first deer that’s been brought to her. So unfortunately I'm very acquainted with that fact.

She’s still striving strong though! These were the first pics taken of her.

Anyway, how they’d react:

Batfam x deer hybrid reader

With Damian's exceptionally caring nature when it comes to animals, he has already meticulously planned out the perfect environment for your deer forms comfort. He has considered every possible scenario and tailored everything to ensure your contentment as well as a space to meet all of your needs.

The young Wayne would thoughtfully strategize and visualise your reactions to every minor action or stimulus. He would carefully consider the most appropriate responses and adapt his behaviour to ensure a positive and nurturing environment for you. Even if the environment in question was one that you were forced into.

The bats would handle your transformed state with great caution, disregarding if your human mind was in control when you were transformed or not. Given your affiliation with the Cervidae family in your animal form, the Wayne family would be especially mindful and considerate of your natural tendencies, behaviours, and instincts.

Despite Dick's intelligence and expertise as a vigilante, being second only to Bruce Wayne himself, his impatience would become apparent within the twenty-ninth attempt to approach you for some affectionate ‘big brother cuddles’. Assuming you’re an adult or older teen, you would be extremely skittish and resistant in your deer form to his advances and attempts to get close, if not completely avoid his presence altogether, let alone let him cling to you for a ‘snuggle.’

Jason wouldn’t comprehend why you’d consistently conceal yourself, in both forms, hiding behind the couch every time he arrives, or why you involuntarily freeze at the sound of his motorcycle, or even why you instinctively flee at the slightest hint of him standing or making a move. But despite his confusion, he doesn't hold it against you. He’s witnessed the horrific experiences and trauma the children of Gotham City are subjected to, and if hiding and evading is the way you cope with what you’re going through, then he’s willing to wait patiently for you to feel secure in his presence. As your sibling, he vowed never to give you a reason to fear him. He knows just how overwhelming it is in this new environment, and he’s not planning on giving you any more reasons to be frightened by them.

Tim would find it easier to deal with your distressed nature than the others, opting to monitor you through the security cameras, allowing him to work on his cases simultaneously, rather than being overly affectionate with you. This way, he could keep a watchful eye on you without having to directly interact, which allows him to multi-task and focus on both keeping you safe and solving his cases.

Despite Jason and Dick no longer living in the Manor, Bruce would likely be the one to spend the least time with you. However, he's not neglecting you. He makes a conscious effort to rearrange his busy schedule, keeps certain days free every week, and meticulously plans time for some quality family bonding. Even if the quality time in question only consists of him quietly sitting in your vicinity, sipping on some freshly made tea while reading the newspaper, he cherishes every moment that he gets to share with you. Simply being near you is enough. Because you're his child, and he's not planning on fucking that up ever again.

[littlemoonglow]

Warning: Long post?

—

Jason did not expect his ghost form to feel…like this.

(Oh, dealing with his body randomly phasing through the ground and smacking his face onto hard concrete was not fun, but Jason dealt with that just like with every other hurdle in his life. By being more stubborn than the problem itself.)

It felt like something… settled into place. That was the best way he could describe it.

He felt as if spite and anger were finally not the only things keeping him awake and running. 

He felt calm, almost. Stable, at least. Whatever pent up energy that was stuck in his chest cavity now flowed freely throughout his body, redistributed, instinctually easier to manage.

It's almost like he could breathe a little bit easier.

(After much… ranting that Jason decided to ignore for his own sanity, Danny said that his case ectoplasmic corruption was probably due to the fact that Death, as a concept, doesn’t let go of things easily, time shenanigans notwithstanding.)

(Becoming a half-ghost was seemingly the only working compromise.)

—

Danny once told him that broad strokes of a ghost’s personality could be guessed by looking at their physical appearance. 

Despite the cool powers, this was a slight downside. Jason dealing with the filth of the Earth meant that being to hide his emotions and who he is was kind of important. Life saving, even.

He realized later on that his ghost form was way too easy to read.

—

He looked at his arms covered in bandages, and got reminded of the amount of times he had to patch himself up in the last month.

His jacket was ripped in place he knew that would have been sewn together when he was a living breathing human (well, as much as he could be).

He always looked slightly on fire?

(Danny told him it's probably related to his... core?)

(He know he died in an explosion but really?)

And then, there was his… veil? Shroud? Cloak?

It looked really nice.

But on the other hand…

It drooped when he felt under the weather. It flicked and thrashed around when he’s either irritated or barely holding back his urge to headshot someone.

And—

(No Danny, my cloak was not fucking wagging when you brought me fresh ectoplasm last week, you’ll have to get your goddamn eyes checked—)

He'll deny it until the day he dies (a second time).

And then his cloak could sometimes just…grow bigger. He figured that it acted as an extension of his own body, and had a nice add-on of allowing him to sense things he couldn't see. Hell, he could even make a hand out of it (wacking Danny with it - gently - never gets old). Jason had to also admit it looked cool, with the wispy bits and with one of its sides becoming a bright yellow.

(It reminded him a bit of his time as Robin.)

—

Being a ghost had a lotta perks.

Dealing with targets was so much easier when no one could see you. Inflitration was so much simpler when walls became optional. Cameras will glitch out when he's around, he left no traces visible to the naked eye and, combined with his training, to say that it was useful would be an understatement.

But, sometimes, he feels like he’s changing as well the more he transforms. Not drastically, but enough for him to look back and notice.

He usually was someone who prided on being efficient and straight to the point.

But now he’s starting to… have fun.

He started using his claws whenever he could. Don't het him wrong, he still uses his guns plenty, but there was just something deeply satisfying about vaulting over things, scaling a wall or crawling on the ceiling with bare hands. 

(Punching people is still the most satisfying by far, though.)

That one time hunting down the Joker wannabes was fun too.

(Danny said he’d get along great with Skulker? Did Jason want to find out? No.)

Fading in and out of invisibility, he picked them off one by one, watching as panic and dread slowly but surely creeped up on the remaining ones.

(After all, he has no respect for those trying to emulate the dead clown.)

—

(Yeah, the Joker was dead.)

(Surprisingly, that has not been a good day.)

—

One of the favorite things he liked to do was rooftop parkour. The… bendability of gravity is… fun, not gonna lie.

(Not flying though. Jason is used to having feet in regular contact with solid ground, thank you very much. No offense, Danny.)

But he gets why ghosts love to fly. When he’s jumping from rooftop to rooftop in Gotham in the at night, watching the city light fly by, cloak spread behind him, it’s as if nothing else matters. 

(No Joker, no petty criminals to beat up, no avoiding the Bats so they don’t find out about his existence—)

He can just enjoy, even just for a little bit.

—

(Somehow the Demon Brat and Orphan could sense him. Will keep and eyes on those two, and also the more reasons to avoid them.)

(The real problem was the new Bat in town. Bruce, what the fuck, another one? Again?)

(The yellow one, Signal. No time to check his profile yet, but probably a meta or something.)

(First night out and the guy almost managed to actually fucking see him —looked at him straight in the eyes and all, then did a double take. Jason never phased into the pavement so fast in his entire fucking life.)

(And so far no Bats on his cloak tails yet.)

(He did help the guy incognito, just a couple of times.) 

(And he also did steal his escrima sticks for fun, and once the guy went out looking for them, he’d put them right back where they were.)

(Turns out, he discovered later, that being a little shit runs in the ghost community.)

—

(Sometimes he also wonders what happened to Danny before they met.)

(He wasn't a Gothamite, that was obvious. He doesn’t pry, but it doesn’t take a lot to piece two and two together.)

(He just wonders who he has to kill this time.)

—

(Jason could not believe he forgot and underestimated just how fucking persistent every single one of the Bats could be. Of course it had to run in the family.)

He gazed down, thought the agony, at the gaping wound under his right armpit.

(The Bats have been chasing him relentlessly for a while now. He got more injuries than he can count, especially from Bruce.)

(They know. Oh, they know.)

(It didn’t go well.)

(He knows the others are there surrounding him to prevent him from escaping, he knows that Dick is right behind him, but at the moment he couldn’t care less.)

It has been a long time since the last time he got shot.

(It felt like someone set his right side on fire.) 

What was flowing out in abundance was a neon, toxic green.

(The Pit Waters, ectoplasm, he didn’t even know that he could fucking bleed in ghost form—)

(Danny—)

He looked back up at Batman, holding a (frankly) ugly gun, white casing and highlights in the same shade of toxic green. 

(A gun that Danny warned him about. And everything behind it.)

Jason felt something in him... snap.

(Why did it have to be you, Bruce.) 

His mouth opened—

(waitsincewhenhecoulddothatthroughtthe mask—) 

(Jason could see the billows of neon green smoke—)

(He couldn’t see Bruce’s expression.)

(Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.)

— and wailed.

---------------------------------------------------

I am genuinely delighted that my last post got that much attention! Thank you so much, to all who liked, rebblogged and commented, it really does mean the most. 💕

This AU may be continued? No guarantees, tho.

For those interested: Part 01

@fandomnerd103 @phoenixdemonqueen @satisfactionbroughtmeback @ascetic-orange @apointlessbox @bathildaburp @fisticuffsatapplebees @aisforanonymity @phandomhyperfixationblog @help-i-need-a-cool-username @hashtagdrivebywrites @did-i-miss-anyone-tagging-is-a-monk's-job-first-time-doing-this-aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 2

Part One

...I ended up writing more for that Reluctant War AU...Like. Wrote this before work and started on part 3 with plans for part 4 more.

this was supposed to just be a brain worm what happened (also thank you @catastrophic-crow for the AU name <3 <3 <3 Also, also: welcome to the cult of Ancient of the Speedforce Elle! Membership includes nonsense, shenanigans and chaos haha)

-

Gotham had always been a place for ghosts.

Every corner haunted by death and tragedy.

Every street stained red at least once in its many years.

Every dark shadow holding the faint shadows and shades of the dead.

Gotham was, before all else, a grave yard.

Jason had known that his entire life. Every kid born and raised in the Alley did. Death came fast to Gotham’s streets. Especially for those the rest of the city turned its back on. He did his best to lighten the reaper’s load when it came to the people that called Crime Alley home. Well, mostly. He’d certainly added names to old Death’s list before, when the occasion called.

When the armies of the dead descended upon Gotham, the only surprise Jason could feel was that those white wearing pieces of shit had dared to try and hunker down in his city.

It was a sentiment shared by most of Gotham’s fine citizens. By the city itself - herself? Something to ask later, if there was a later - even if the impossible, living shadow that rose up out of Gotham’s many dark corners was anything to go by. He knew, almost instinctively, that the entity - skin of cracked pavement, mouth a bridge suspended too wide across the face, eyes of CCTV camera lenses and body built brick by grimy, bloody brick of the sharp skyline - was Gotham. Not a ghost but something bigger, greater. Something awfully, terribly alive in all its horrible, noble glory. His city, manifest in the shape almost human beneath the green glow of the torn apart sky above.

Phantom’s armies arrived without warning as they had everywhere else, and their enemies poured out in unforgivably unmarred white suits to meet them. Horrible and garish against the Gotham streets. How they’d ever managed to slink by unnoticed while being so blatantly, clearly not of Gotham Jason wasn’t sure he’d ever know.

If either side thought this would be like the battles they fought before, they were mistaken.

Gotham was a place for Ghosts.

A place the dead piled up, lingered well beyond their deaths. A place where the rules were different from everywhere else in the world. Where crime was rampant and chaos reigned but at the end of the day people said their thanks that they were born to this hellhole and not so cursed to call anywhere else in the world home.

The dead came to fight

And Gotham, a thing so alive it was sickening to look upon, rose up to fight right along side them all.

The agents were ready and prepared for the incursion of the dead. It’d been two weeks since the first volley of attacks. Two weeks spent shoring up defenses and ramping up weapons and strategizing ways to kill what was already dead. They were, as best as they were able to be considering how endless the armies that came for them, prepared.

They weren’t prepared for Gotham.

Weren’t prepared for the city itself to rise up and take spectral, eldritch shape. Jagged building spire and shattered glass teeth bared in a snarl that spanned miles. Screaming rage in a voice made of gunfire and the concussive boom of explosions and the shrieks of a furious crowd.

Weren’t prepared for its people to ignore the gentle ushering of the dead trying to push them away to safety and instead press forward to fight shoulder to shoulder with the ghostly armies.

Weren’t prepared to have brick and bottles and trash and debris rain down upon them from the jeering living. Weren’t prepared for dirty faced children with hard eyes to light up rags stuffed into chipped beer bottles filled with gas and kerosene and throw them with more speed an accuracy than any professional baseball player. Weren’t ready for Gotham’s motley crew of terrifying Rogues to band together with the citizens they so often accosted and worried and bring down wave after wave of chaos and Goons.

Weren’t prepared for Red Hood to swap out his rubber bullets for the real deal and start mowing the fuckers in white down, his own crew at his back, the rest of the Outlaws on their way.

The Justice League was trying to find a peaceful resolution. Trying to play go between to the US Government and the infinite dead. Too wound up in US politics to side with the dead outright, too disgusted by what the American government had done to ever want to stand with them. All it had gotten them was spun wheels and confusion and the slow creeping realization that the time to try and play negotiators had well passed.

Red Hood wasn’t a member of the Justice League.

He had no obligation to try and find a way to talk things out.

What he had was a grave he’d dug his way out of, enough ammunition to arm a sizable country, and a burning need to make things right.

Gotham had always been a place for ghosts, and Jason had long accepted that he was one of them.

Haunting the streets he’d survived as a child, the city he protected as Robin, the family he’d loved and lost a thousand and one times before and after his death.

The sky cracked open above his home, and it was not an invading army that came rushing out but a native one. Friends, neighbors, strangers on the street you caught from the corner of your eye. The people of Gotham knew their own and fought for them. Only Gotham was allowed to fucked with Gotham and they’d been screwed over enough by the government themselves to know what side they were on.

He lifted his guns and fired, teeth bared in vicious satisfaction beneath his helmet as white was splattered bright red.

A hissing electric whine of a weapon, a flash of green from the edge of his vision.

“Down!”

He was thrown bodily to the cracked and ruined street beneath him, the body shielding him warm and living as one of the agent’s weapon fired a blast of energy right where he’d been a second before. He’d seen that same weapon reduce one of the raging dead to dripping green and screams of agony the dead should not be capable of making.

Before he could shove himself up and respond in kind, the body above him was in motion and the air above him cracking with the snapping-popping-roar of a gun of a much higher power than even what he had. The fucker in white that had shot at him dissolved into a mist of red viscera, body seizing and shuttering in the briefest moment it had before it was obliterated completely.

“Watch yourself.” He looked up - and up - and wondered at the lovely, fierce face he found staring down at him. “Even without shooting at them you’re Liminal enough to trip their sensors.”

She was tall enough to be an amazon, six inches in height on him at least. Body strong beneath the pitch black armor she work - as deep and dark as the depths of space, etched with starlight, a familiar crest upon her chest in the dizzying burst of a supernova - she held herself with confidence. Strands of hair the color of a warning sunrise escaped out from beneath the helm she wore, bright against her pale skin, warming the glass-sharp teal eyes that had pinned him in place.

The hand not holding the gun she’d just used to delete the asshole that had just tried to shoot him - a strange, impossible thing that made him taste lightning at the back of his throat to look at it - stretched out to help him up.

He accepted it.

Something pulsed to life in his chest. A piece forgotten where it’d been left behind, half buried in grave dirt and broken pieces of a casket he’d clawed his way out of. It burned like a hot coal in his chest, froze him with the same aching cold of a blizzard, crackled his nerves to life with lightning even as his brain popped and fried with the same sizzling energy.

On his feet, hair on end and body and Core pulsing with the need to fight, to rend and tear and scream for all done to him, his people, his home, he met the eyes of the woman before him. Her cool gaze softened, just a moment, just a second as she seemed to realize what had happened. Her hand, lighter than the armor she wore should allow it to be, tightened on his just a moment, mouth tilting from determined frown to soft understanding.

Gotham had always been a place for ghosts.

Jason had long accepted that he was one of them.

---

Part Three

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)

So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)

Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)

Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).

Here’s the beginning of the fic:

Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved. 

So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.

“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.

“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”

“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.

 He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.

“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”

Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows

“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.

“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.

“You mean Batman?” He chanced.

The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.

“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”

The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.

“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”

“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”

That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”

The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”

A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.

“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet.  I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”

“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.

The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”

And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.” 

“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.

“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.

“I told you, he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?” 

Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.

“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.

Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.

He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.

“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.” 

“No thanks.,” Tim answered.

The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.

The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.

When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before. 

“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.

Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit. 

Oh, no. Oh no no no.

A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“

With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.

“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“ 

Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”

But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.

Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful. 

When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince. 

He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls. 

And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line. 

Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.

Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have. 

The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best. 

He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”

As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.

“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.

“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”

Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?

“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “

The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”

If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.

Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.

“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.

Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.

He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body. 

Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet.  So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.

“Are you ok?” 

And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown. 

On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.

Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.

“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”

Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”

There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.

“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.

Prince? 

The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.

“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.

“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.

Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 13

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)  Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Warning! This chapter is pretty rough (I think), please check the tags for triggers before reading if you have worries. Part 13:

The plan had gone off without a hitch. The Ghost had been noticeably distracted ever since Tim had asked Jason to sit their attempts to capture him out. He’d been very grateful though that it hadn’t taken long for the Ghost to appear again in Gotham’s industrial area. Jason only had so much patience. 

Thanks to Babs’ newly upgraded cameras they’d had warning and time for everyone to get together. 

Herding the Ghost to their trap had been a cinch with him only getting away from them a few times. 

The trap was set in a dead-end alley near the power plant which had power lines running through the ground underneath. They were insulated so he wouldn’t sense them. They would only be a problem if he tried to phase through them.

The Ghost froze in place as the trap came to life with electricity every wall covered with the net. It wasn’t just electrified wire it was meant to create arcs of electricity. It needed to be visible, it needed to stop their quarry in place. Tim didn’t actually want to electrocute the guy if he could help it. 

Dick jumped down to land beside Tim and Damian, his escrima sticks ready. 

The Ghost swung around, taking everything in. Then he started to sink through the ground. It was the moment Tim had been waiting for. Everything hinged on this one theory being true; that he wasn’t just afraid of electricity, but that it would stop him from phasing through. He jumped back up with a startled yelp. 

As he turned to face them mouth a thin pressed line, Tim couldn’t help the grin of a well-executed plan.

“Gotcha.”

Finally they could get to the bottom of this! But no! Tim’s instinct warned him before his brain even registered what was happening. Something about the Ghost’s posture had changed; he was looking up, tensing his body for something. 

No!

Tim fumbled for the button, his last ditch attempt even as Dick and Damian sprung forward recognizing the look of someone about to fly. He’d tossed the EMP device earlier in the night and it had attached to the Ghost’s back. He pushed the button now. 

But the Ghost was already flying having taken off like a rocket. There was a half second delay and Tim realized with horror that even if the electromagnetic pulse did anything the Ghost was in the air. 

If it did anything he would fall. 

Oo o oO

There was a pulse like a wave of static and then Danny was dropping. 

Desperately confused he reached for his powers. Flight was as easy as breathing. Gravity was a mere suggestion. Or it should be! Nothing was happening and the roof below was coming rapidly up to meet him!

In reality it only lasted two seconds, but it felt like a terrifying eternity. His arms and legs moved uselessly; without his powers he had no control.

At the last moment he pushed his arms out. His right hand landed first, there was a sharp pain in his wrist before he curled up and rolled over his shoulder, landing on his back. Air punched out of his chest in a wheeze.

His eyes were wide staring sightlessly up at the clouds as he tried to suck air into his stunned body. He needed to get away before they found him. His core was an agitated scream in his chest. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t sink through the roof. 

He rolled up onto his knees with a pained groan, holding his right wrist protectively against his chest. Terror gripped his throat in a vice grip as he pressed his left hand flat on the concrete. He had to focus. Breathe, if he could just take a moment without panicking, he was certain he’d make his powers work. His core felt normal in his chest, they hadn’t suppressed him, not like Vlad did that one time. Frustrated tears pricked his eyes, he clenched his eyes shut, forced himself to take a deep slow breath. If he just found his calm, if he just focused…

There was not even the suggestion of any give. The roof was solid. 

Danny was solid.

There was a clatter and the high pitched whine of several grappling hooks reeling in. Danny’s head snapped up at the sound, eyes wide. He scrambled clumsily to his feet - his body felt so heavy, and his aching legs protested having to lift him.  

They gathered in a half circle around him on their near silent feet - the bats, towering shadows to his blurred eyes. Blood rushed in his ears.

Danny took a step back, barred his teeth in a snarl. 

“Don’t come closer,” he warned, the implied threat was a lie. He couldn’t do anything. He was powerless, weak as a kitten. It would be no trouble for them to capture him. But worse if they could neutralize his powers, they could hold him. Danny took another step back. 

His breath came in short, punched out huffs. Cold sweat made his hair and clothes sticky. Shadows lined in harsh white light leaned over him. Agony- No! Danny shook his head, he was not there. He stepped back, the back of his knees hit a low railing.

He would never go back. 

He turned and jumped.

Oo o oO

Tim didn’t hear any sounds but the blood rushing in his ears. He hadn’t expected the sheer panic the Ghost would have. None of them had. Not even the goggles had been able to obscure how terrified he was. His voice, the first time they’d ever heard him speak, had been thin and shaky, a hollow warning to not come closer. What was he so afraid of? They hadn’t come closer and yet-

Tim felt ill. What did he think they’d do to him, that he’d rather jump off the roof?! 

Jason had been right. He needed help. And now-

The others stood at the edge of the roof. Nobody was moving. Did that mean it was too late? There was nothing to be done?

Numbly, Tim walked up to the edge and looked down. For a moment he saw nothing, but then he caught movement further away, a flash of red- relief hit Tim in a whooshed out breath that left him weak-kneed. Jason had caught him. Tim turned around and sunk down to sit back against the railing.

He hadn’t even known Jason was out here. He must have turned off his tracker. Fuck, he was so relieved Jason had been there. 

He buried his head in his shaking hands. This was on him, his plan. 

His earlier exhilarated satisfaction of a well-executed plan was crumbled and soured, heavy in the pit of his stomach like lead. His gut turned ominously. If he threw up, it would be deserved, he thought despondently.

Oo o oO

Jason went on the Bats’ comm channel only to bark at them not to follow him. With Ghost in his arms shaking and breathing too fast and too superficial, covered in the cold sweat of terror, Jason didn’t want to know what he would do if they did follow him. 

He ran across the rooftops and used the grapple when necessary. The safehouse wasn’t too far away. 

There was utter silence from that sense where Jason usually heard Ghost’s call to him. It should be a relief not to hear his yearning and be unable to do anything about it, but it just felt wrong. Like something was missing.

Jason held him closer.

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.” The words were useless, he knew that. Ghost had to be running from him for a reason even as he called for him - and Jason could understand why he’d been running from him, Jason was wrong inside, but Ghost was his only hope, and he couldn’t not chase. Right now the words were all he had, and he couldn’t let the others take him. They didn’t understand that he needed help. 

Jason’s anger over what had happened tonight was only eclipsed by his worry. Ghost might be afraid of Jason too, but not like this, not silenced by terror.

Jason repeated his useless assurances as he ran. Ghost was much too light in his arms, too thin beneath the worn clothing. Irrational fear that he would turn to dust in his arms, seized him. 

“You’re gonna be okay.” He said as much to reassure himself as Ghost.

“Please,” Ghost rasped voice unused.

Jason froze, stopping in place, hoping he’d say more. He didn’t. He pushed uselessly at Jason’s chest, still trying to escape. Jason’s heart broke. Frustrated tears pricked at his eyes.

“Please let me help you,” he pleaded. 

Jason didn’t know if his words had gotten through to him or it was just exhaustion, but he stopped struggling. Cynically, Jason leaned towards exhaustion. At this point panic and fear had to be the only thing keeping him conscious at all.

They arrived at the safehouse finally. 

It was one the others didn’t know about. Jason had a few of those as insurance. It was seemingly just a lived-in apartment, open floor plan living room and kitchen in one with artfully placed clutter, a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom. There were weapons and supplies hidden in the spaces between the real walls and the fake walls that appeared to be the apartment’s boundaries, but you’d only realize that if you checked another of the similar units in the building and noticed this one was smaller. 

Jason landed them on the sill, and worked the window open. He didn’t bother with traps, because he didn’t use it often. Using it would have been a sure way to tip off the bats of its existence. No, this and other’s like it was for emergencies, and sometimes when he needed to stash a victim or witness somewhere safe temporarily. And even if someone should try to burgle the place, Jason had some decoy money there, a large flatscreen TV and some other easily taken electronics. It was unlikely they’d find the real supplies when there were easier money. 

He maneuvered them both inside, set Ghost on the couch and closed the window and the drapes. He pulled off his helmet and set it carelessly on the coffee table - it rolled off to land on the floor. Ghost had already seen his face and hopefully, he’d respond better to a human than a mask. 

Moving slowly, trying to make himself less threatening he kneeled down on the floor in front of where Ghost had curled up in the corner of the couch.

“Hey,” Jason said trying to sound calm, when inside he was everything but. He held out his hands in peace. “I’m not doing anything, I just want to talk.”

The emotionless goggles turned towards him. Jason got nothing from him, he only had the defensive body language to read him by.

“Please say something.”

Finally something happened, Ghost’s breath hitched and he reached up to push the goggles away. His eyes were red rimmed and blurry, and they closed as he rubbed at them. Still hiding his eyes he whispered so low Jason almost didn’t hear him, “-just want to go home.”

Jason lowered his hands and slumped forward. Letting him go would be the right thing to do, Jason could argue all the way till Sunday that it wasn’t safe for him right now, with his powers out of order, but that wasn’t why Jason couldn’t promise to let him go. He desperately needed answers. How did he make the pit silent? Was it just him or was there hope for Jason?

“I have questions,” he admitted.

Ghost slowly removed his hands. His eyes were blue and wary as he looked down at Jason. Jason held his eyes and he didn’t know what he saw in Jason as the moment stretched between them, like an elastic pulled to the point just before snapping.

Ghost looked away with a pained expression, and then, unfurling slowly, Jason felt that familiar yearning. Jason shook his head helplessly. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to help but didn’t know what to do.

“What do you need?” Jason asked.

Ghost looked back up momentarily and then away with a grimace. Shrinking in on himself. “Hey,” Jason said, frustration made him snappy, “I’m just trying to understand! It’s like you’re calling me, but I don’t know how to answer.”

That got Ghost’s attention, and his head snapped up holding his gaze intently.

“You can feel it?” He asked, and there’s this underlying desperate hope, shoved down by a voice desperately trying to hold steady.

“I can, and I just-“ He didn’t know what else to say, instead he reached out a hand to cup Ghost’s cheek. His eyes were wide and liquid and so blue before he clenched them shut and leaned into Jason’s touch with a small whimper. Jason didn’t dare breathe, as that small hum started, the one that was like a purr. Jason’s head was silent now, the underlying anger and frustration gone. In this moment he was just Jason. 

He didn’t even realize he was crying until tears spilled over his cheeks. He ducked his head. It had been some very long weeks. 

“How are you doing this?” He whispered, desperate to know. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Ghost answered hesitantly. 

Jason looked up to meet his tired eyes, the dark bags underneath his eyes were so dark and stark in his thin face he looked bruised. Jason looked away. Shame curled in his gut for pushing him this far. For being helpless not to give chase. He would have pulled his hand back if Ghost hadn’t still been leaning into his touch.

Quietly, he admitted, “I have this rage inside of me, you quiet it.”

“Hmm,” Ghost hummed thoughtfully with his actual voice, as he mulled over Jason’s words. “I’m pretty useless right now without my powers, so I don’t know if it’s anything I can help with permanently.”

“Okay,” Jason said quietly. Trapped in this strange bubble of quiet, desperate to break it he asked, “Do you wanna talk about what happened on the rooftop?”

The purring came to a stuttering halt. 

“That’s a no then,” Jason stated. Of course he didn’t want to talk about that, that should have gone without saying. Stupid. He sighed and stood up, drawing his hand back along with it.

“I’m just getting on the couch,” he assured when Ghost protested wordlessly. He sat down leaning heavily into the plush couch. After a moment he lifted his arm in invite. It took five long seconds before Ghost tucked himself underneath the arm. Jason squeezed him momentarily in a pitiful attempt at comfort, but it was all he could do. 

It took a moment but the purr started up again. The feeling of contentment washed over him.

Jason didn’t know how long he sat there, letting Ghost’s purr soothe his frayed mind, but he sat there so long he started to feel the temptation to just close his eyes and sleep. That wasn’t helpful. Ghost himself had fallen asleep at some point, he discovered, as he shifted and found him blinking awake startled. 

The purring stopped. Wary eyes watched him as he moved away.

“Easy,” Jason said lowly as if he actually was trying to soothe a feral cat, “I’m just gonna check to see what food options we have.” 

He watched until Ghost leaned back into the couch. His eyes were mere slits watching Jason when he turned towards the kitchen. 

Ghost needed to eat and making food was definitely more useful than falling asleep. He walked over to the cupboards, and couldn’t help but yawn as he did so. He opened the cupboards one by one, searching for something easy. A lot of the things here had technically expired and were mostly there for appearance sake. The dried herbs and spices, had probably lost most of their flavor, so actually cooking was out of the question, not to mention he didn’t have fresh ingredients here, but one of the canned soups would probably do fine. 

He turned, tomato soup can in hand to ask if that was fine only to find the couch empty. Carefully he set the can down, so he wasn’t tempted to throw it. His hand clenched into a fist reflexively with no can to hold. He walked over to the living room side of the room, just to make sure he hadn’t just moved. 

He wasn’t there.

He was gone.

Jason sighed and sat down heavily on the couch. Of course he was.

Nothing had been disturbed, not the drapes nor the windows. Everything was exactly as Jason had left it. His powers must have returned. Whatever Tim had done hadn’t been that long lasting, a couple of hours at most. He would have simply gone right through the wall.

Of course he had left as soon a he had a chance. Jason hadn’t given him reason to stay. He’d had his chance to talk and he’d wasted it just sitting and basking in his presence.

He leaned his forehead on his hands and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

He only had himself to blame.

-

So this happened... this is better/worse? At least they got to hug?

Anyways, I think I may go back to shorter tumblr parts now that these two chapters are done (if you're curious this is chapter 7 and 8 in my doc and that's what they'll be on Ao3). The last chapter really couldn't be split and this chapter only had terrible places to split it. Better to end on sad Jason.

You can subscribe over on the masterlist

Update: next

[too-much-tma-stuff]

I Never Blamed You (Part 6)

So, where has Dick been?

Previous | Masterpost | Next

Dick was not going to reach out to Bruce first, he absolutely was not. He wasn’t wrong, and Bruce was never going to change anyway! Their fighting was the reason he had gone to Bludhaven in the first place, and their relationship had only gotten worse when Bruce had taken in Jason, and worse again when he died. Dick had blamed Bruce, but he had blamed himself more, for not being a better brother to the kid. Ya sure he hadn’t wanted a brother, but that was how siblings usually worked! He should have been there! And now here he was, not being here for Tim either, and feeling like complete shit about it.

He apartment was a fucking pigsty and he didn’t clean it. He hadn’t been taking care of himself, he’d been eating junk, he was barely sleeping. He was not doing well and he didn’t care. He didn’t care about much other than his patrols and being Nightwing, he didn’t care about much besides saving people. Like maybe if he saved enough strangers he could make up for not saving his brother.

He couldn't. 

He still checked in on the rest of the family sometimes, and he never blocked Batman on official channels so if they really needed help they could call him. Bruce had never blocked Dick either, or locked him out of their servers, if he did Dick would probably cry.

It had been a few months so it was time to check in again. He still wasn’t locked out thankfully, so he had a look around at the most recently updated files. What were Bruce and Tim having issues with in Gotham?

The most accessed file in the last few weeks was the one on Red Hood and his partner Hyena. Dick really didn’t know that much about them besides they were Gotham’s new crime lords, and he had heard on the news Hyena had killed the Joker. Dick felt like he owed Hyena for that. He had succeeded where Dick had failed after all. He still held a small grudge against the people who had resuscitated the bastard, Nightwing had killed him on purpose after all.

Dick opened the file on Hood, propped his chin on one fist and leaning against the desk, bored and tired, ready to skim the file before moving on. He froze, his body going completely rigid as any trace of his previous fatigue fled his body.

Alias: Red Hood

Civilian name: Jason Todd

It couldn’t be the same Jason Todd, he was dead, it had to be an awful coincidence surely! But he read on with rebid hope anyway. It wasn’t a coincidence. It was Jason, the Baby bird. He’d grown so much, he’d changed so much! 

Dick barely remembered to turn off his computer before he grabbed his suit and headed straight for Gotham, and Crime Alley. 

It was half a miracle that Dick didn’t crash on his way to Gotham with how fast he was going, and how little attention he was paying. He wound in and out of traffic to get to his little brother as quickly as possible, ignoring everything else till he reached Crime Alley. He abandoned his bike more than parked it, and went looking for Red Hood.

They must have access to the cameras in the Alley, or maybe just a network of informants, because they came to meet him long before he would have found them. Both Hyena and Hood were there, but as soon as Dick saw Red Hood he zeroed in and barely noticed Hyena, didn’t even hear the way he snarled when Dick rushed towards Jason.

Jason made a ‘down’ gesture to Hyena who subsided and stopped growling, fading partially into the shadows, though he was still watching them intently. 

“Is that really you Little Wing?” Dick breathed, he felt like the hope was choking him and he didn’t even know if it was real. He’d had delusions and hallucinations before, and Jason featured in them regularly. Hood looked tense, his arms were crossed and his posture closed off, he didn’t seem exactly happy to see Dick.

“What do you want, Big Bird?” He asked. The nickname, even through the modulator Dick recognized the way Jason said it.

Dick was shaking he realized, and he could feel the burning of tears behind his eyes as he crumpled in on himself. Hardly a warm reception, but of course it wasn’t. Why would Jason want to see him? He had been a terrible brother, he hadn’t been there when Jason needed him, he hadn’t been there for Tim. He shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have intruded on Jason’s new life. He was probably better off without Dick anyway.

“I’m so sorry,” He managed to choke out. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, that I wasn’t here. B didn’t tell me, you- No, you didn’t have to tell me, you don’t have to accept my apology. But I wish-” He was interrupted by a little hiccupping sob. He shook his head and brushed away his tears with the back of his hand, furious at himself for his useless self pity. “I wish I’d been a better brother to you. I should have been there, I should have saved you.”

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Dick and he surrendered to them immediately, if Jason hurt him he probably deserved it. But no, Jason just… held him. “I don’t blame you Dicky,” Jason said softly and the floodgates just broke. Dick wrapped his arms back around Jason and sobbed into his broad chest, clinging like a child and barely processing it as he was picked up. Hyena leading the way and Jason brought him to their nearest safehouse.

Dick passed out before they got there. 

----------

Danny opened the door for Jason and quickly disabled all the traps so Jason could carry Dick in and lay him down on the couch. He covered Dick with a throw blanket and slumped down into a chair, taking his helmet off and took a deep breath, letting his head fall back against the chair with a soft thunk. 

Danny trotted to the kitchen and put a pot of coffee on to brew. Once it was done and Jason had a moment to collect himself Danny poured Jason a cup. He pressed it into Jason’s hand and curled up on Jason’s lap purring softly, Jason was sure he wasn’t actually happy right now, but knew Jason found the sound soothing and was doing it for his benefit. He appreciated it.

He absently rubbed Danny’s back while he processed his feelings. Danny didn’t say anything, they never really demanded answers of each other, Jason appreciated that too.

“I didn’t know he cared this much, or that he was doing this badly,” Jason told Danny softly. “I should have reached out to him. I thought he already knew and just didn’t care.”

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t have a great relationship with him before did you? You didn’t think those things for no reason,” Danny told him. 

“Ya, he’d left by the time Bruce took me in and he was barely around. And when he was Bruce and he would fight and he’d storm off,” Jason said with a sigh. “But he’s thinner now, and so tired. I didn’t realize-” He cut himself off, hiding his face in Danny’s shoulder.

“He’s here now, we’ll work it out,” Danny promised, and his confidence did soothe Jason, at least enough to come out of hiding and sip his coffee.

---------

Dick woke up to the smell of fresh baked bread and cinnamon. For a moment he thought that he must be at the manor, and it felt like it had when he was a kid, but when he stretched he realized he was sleeping on a couch. He paused for a moment, and all the memories from before came back. He sat up abruptly and looked around wildly. 

“Well welcome back Sleeping Beauty. Seriously, how long has it been since you slept?!” Jason asked, and the other man sitting at the kitchen island cackled. He recognized the laugh, even if Hyena was out of his suit. “You’ve been asleep all night, I made cinnamon rolls.” 

As if to prove it Hyena held up his half eaten cinnamon roll, and then took another big bite. “There’s coffee too,” Hyena said with his mouth full, Jason whacked him with a spatula for it and Hyena dramatically pretended to be hurt. Jason rolled his eyes. 

Dick blinked and got up, warily approaching the counter as if he expected them to reject or attack him. Jason just got him a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll as he sat down. Dick picked it up and nibbled it, it was delicious enough that he kept picking at it, even though he didn’t have much of an appetite. 

“How long have you been back?” Dick asked Jason softly. He should introduce himself to Hyena properly, but he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but Jason right now. He’d grown so much, he looked older than he was. Where had that little boy gone?

“I came back about six months after my death but I wasn’t all there,” Jason said, turning away to pour his own cup of coffee. “The League of Shadows found me and dumped me in the Pit. I had the worst case of Pit Madness afterwards. It took me a year of training with them, and another year with the All-Cast before I really knew who I was enough to come back to Gotham, and I’m still not the same as I was before. I never will be,” Jason said like a warning as he pulled up a stool and sat down across from Dick and Hyena. 

“They’re pretty common ongoing side effects of resurrection like that,” Hyena added, finally drawing Dick’s attention to him. “Increased violence and obsessive tendencies are pretty normal. So are the grudges and the need for closure, I mean, it makes perfect sense doesn’t it?”

He stretched across the table towards Jason, and Dick finally noticed the white in his hair. It matched Jason’s now, though the placement was different. Jason absently brushed his fingers over Hyena’s open palm in a brief but practiced caress. Hyena grinned up at him fondly. It made Dick feel out of place.

“How would you know?” Dick bristled, he didn’t mean to, and he shouldn’t have. He just hated how well Hyena obviously knew Jason when Dick didn’t know him at all. He had always been a bit of a jealous person.

“Because I died too and I was the same! And I wasn’t even exposed to this Pit stuff,” Hyena explained with a little shrug before straightening up again.

“Oh,” Dick sounded, deflating again, he really shouldn’t be picking fights. He'd rather focus on Jason anyway. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back,” He said looking at Jason and trying not to cry again. “You’ve been back for, what, 8 months? You could have reached out.”

“I didn’t think you'd care, we weren’t exactly close,” Jason said with a  shrug. Dick felt like he had been punched in the gut. “When I revealed myself to Bruce and asked why he hadn’t avenged me he threw a batarang at me to stop me from killing the joker and slit my throat,” He said, tilting his head to show the scar. Dick felt like he might throw up at the sight. “I guess I didn’t want to risk reaching out again.

“I figured I was pretty well disowned and didn’t have a family anymore-”

“Besides me!” Hyena chirped, smiling at Jason who gave his partner a look of fond exasperation. 

“Yes, besides you. So I just kept going with what I was doing, making Crime Alley a safer place and stuff. I did reach out to Tim and we’ve had dinner a few times, but I guess I figured… I heard through the grapevine you didn’t come to my funeral. I didn’t think there was any reason to reach out.”

“I was just in denial,” Dick admitted in a near whisper. “I didn’t want to believe you were gone. I never got a chance to be a better brother, I thought that I’d have more time I guess. Bruce and I, we both fell apart after your death. He got violent to the point Tim felt like he needed to step in,” Jason was nodding, Tim must have told him about that. “But I did too, I had nightmares, and didn’t sleep to the point I started hallucinating you. I beat the Joker to death and never forgave the fucking EMTs who resuscitated him, even though I couldn’t bring myself to do it again.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “I missed you.”

“Damn… I’m sorry Dick, if I'd known it fucked you up that bad I would have reached out. I just assumed since Bruce and Tim knew, you must know too. I wasn’t that surprised you didn’t come, but I didn’t blame you.

"Not this time, and not when I died either. I was mad at Bruce, not you, you didn’t ask for a brother and I understood that. I wasn't your responsibility.

"But, I guess, you’re here now, and I am too. We can try and start over. It’ll have to be slow though,” he glanced at Hyena, who nodded encouragingly. “This is going to be… a lot. For both of us I’m sure.” 

“Right,” Dick agreed sheepishly. “Whatever you need Little Wing, I’m sorry I just showed up without warning last night. I just needed to see you.”

“It’s okay, I’m… glad to know you care. No one told me that you tried to kill the Joker.” Jason paused and shoved the plate of cinnamon rolls towards Hyena. Huh, Dick hadn’t noticed him trying to sneak another one. Hyena looked sheepish as he took another, Jason shook his head at his boyfriend before continuing. “Just take better care of yourself okay? Next time I see you I don't want you passing out in my arms again,” Jason chided him.

“Ya, ya I will,” Dick agreed with an embarrassed little blush. “I’ll reach out to Tim too.” It was way past time to do that.

“Good, he’s a good kid but his self worth is in the fucking gutter. He’s going to work himself to death before he’s 30 if someone doesn’t give him a healthy role model, and some support, and we all know Bruce won’t do it,” Jason huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“I’ll do my best to help,” Dick vowed. This was a second chance he never expected, he was not going to waste it. 

[sparkletastic-cookiedough]

I’ve seen a number of imagines where due to interdimensional shenanigans or being liminal, Danny Phantom is more durable than most people in the dc dimension.

And those are cool and fine and all, but imagine if it was the opposite?

Danny Fenton gets punched twice and dies.

Which is fun on its own, but Danny is half ghost. He’s cursed to an existence where he can never truly be alive or dead for all eternity. Meaning that after a little while, Danny is back at it again, on the streets of Gotham in the same fleshy body he just died in.

He has to turn into ghost form first, but he can turn invisible as a ghost, so it’s fine, no one sees him glowing before he heads into an inconspicuous alleyway to return to life.

The blood stains would be a problem, but it’s Gotham so no one bats an eye.

Except for the bats.

(Warning: some death, corpses, and gore ahead)

—————

It always haunts Duke when he fails to save someone. He’s a hero now, and that’s part of the gig, but still.

He keeps wondering if maybe he had been faster, or stronger, or just a moment sooner, maybe then the civilian would’ve lived.

He sees the corpse in his nightmares, a reminder that he wasn’t good enough. It’s not rational, but Duke can’t get the image of the dead teen out of his head- the lifeless blue eyes, the dark hair, the…

… is that him?

No, it can’t be. It looks a lot like the kid, but his mind must be playing tricks on him or something. Because he saw that kid die. This kid, across the street, they must be someone else. Maybe they’re related?

Duke hears a commotion down a nearby alley, and leaves the mystery for later.

—————

Cass is concerned about this dead body.

In her line of work, it’s normal to see a lot of corpses. What’s strange about this one is that it makes no sense.

It’s splattered on the ground like it fell from a skyscraper. The tallest building in the area is five stories high.

The body is too fresh to have been from a while ago. It doesn’t show signs of having been moved. There weren’t any helicopters in the area recently it might’ve fallen from.

She surveys the area again. Perhaps this is a trap?

No security cameras or bad guys in sight.

She turns back to the body-

It’s gone. Only a pool of blood remains, undisturbed.

No one could have snuck past her. Something strange is going on.

—————

The bullet Jason shot shouldn’t have done this much damage.

The teenager was accidentally hit in a hostage situation. Usually Jason doesn’t miss like that, but the bullet should have just nicked him. A bandaid should have done the trick.

But this kid is leaking blood like a fire hose. It’s absolutely gushing out.

You never realize how much blood a human body has in it until you see it spread out all over the floor.

Jason puts pressure on the wound, damn the bad guys he is not having a dead civilian on his hands if he can help it.

He grabs a tourniquet from the first aid pack he carries. Fastens it around the kids arm-

- and the kid’s arm flops off. Not normal. Either Jason has just gotten Superman-levels of strength, or something is wrong with the kid.

The kid’s rapid breaths devolve into quick gasps. The blood from his wound slows to a trickle. Jason feels the kids heart go from pounding to nothing-

Fuck.

Instinct driving Jason more than any sense of reason, he puts the kid on his back to do chest compressions.

Jason pushes down. He hears a loud Squelch. His hands go through the kid’s torso.

Double fuck. Jason might know CPR, but he doesn’t know how to deal with this. His panicked-brain remembers he’s in a fight right now, and Jason turns towards the people who held the kid hostage.

They immediately surrender.

[disillusioneddanny]

Forget Me Not

Tim/Danny

TW:MCD

He found himself sitting in Tim’s old bedroom, photographs and cameras scattered around him as he desperately tried to figure out what happened to his baby brother. Figure out what he had done to his baby brother.

Tim was gone.

And everything felt wrong. Dick knew it was his fault. Knew that he had been there to watch as Tim slowly slipped away, leaving him with nothing but the memories that Dick now held tight. Two of his brothers had died now. And now he was stuck in a house full of memories, of nothing but haunted whispers and glimpses of a brother who was gone.

He had thought that no matter how far Tim went, Dick would be able to follow. He thought that if he had given Tim space, let him grieve in this weird, and horrible way he was choosing that he would eventually get his brother back. That one day, Tim would wake up and he would realize that Bruce was dead and he would come home and he would be the partner that Dick needed, that they would grieve their father’s death together.

Instead, he had been found in his safe house with his throat slit.

And he had gone somewhere that Dick would never be able to follow.

He had left Dick to grieve yet another family member.

The vigilante wiped a stray tear away as he stared down at the pictures, pictures of Batman, of Dick as Robin, of Jason as Robin. Pictures of Nightwing. Pictures of Batgirl, of Spoiler, of Orphan. Pictures of Damian.

Not a single picture of Tim.

Of the bright-eyed, intelligent boy that Dick loved more than life.

Of the brightest, most caring, cunning boy. Of a boy who loved with his entire heart, despite the fact that the world around them continued to shatter it, over and over.

Dick took a steadying breath as the door opened and a ten-year-old boy carefully stepped inside. He said nothing as Damian carefully sat beside him, his head pillowed on Dick’s shoulder as they stared down at the pictures together.

Tim had gone to a place where they would not be able to follow. But Dick had to hope that he had finally found Bruce, that he was happy wherever he was. He was going to let Tim rest in peace, and had refused to even entertain Damian’s idea of taking his brother’s broken and defeated body to Ra’s to bring him back. He was going to let Tim rest in peace, but he wasn’t going to forget him.

His face would one day blur in Dick’s memories, just as his parents had, just as Bruce was starting to do. There weren’t nearly enough photos of the seventeen-year-old. He had taken them of everyone else, but never himself.

Dick wrapped his arms around Damian’s shoulders as the younger boy shook with held-back tears of his own. He wished that he could have helped Tim carry this burden, took the time to just humor the kid. Maybe if he had, Tim would still be here. Maybe then, Dick would have been able to help Tim come back home.

But instead, he had to let Tim rest in peace. And make sure that his legacy would live with Dick until they saw each other again one day. Until their next hello.

———

Danny Fenton sat at the top of Wayne Enterprises and stared down at the city below. The entire town was in mourning, which was understandable. They hadn’t just lost a good one, they had lost the best one.

There was a melancholy weight that seemed to weigh on everyone in Gotham, he could see it in the ways that people seemed to just walk down the sidewalk. Each of the Gotham vigilantes had a different crowd that seemed to flock to them.

Nightwing was the one that the older ladies and the children trusted.

Red Hood was the one that the kids and the street workers called for when they needed help.

Spoiler was especially popular with teenagers, especially the runaways and street kids who seemed to run the streets like their own little empires.

Batman and Robin made everyone safe and comfortable, everyone knew to call for them for safety and help.

But then there was Red Robin.

And the people who Red Robin called for were the vulnerable, the depressed, the ones thinking about ending it all. He was the one for the kids who were ignored or overlooked by their parents. The vigilante who was there for the ones who felt invisible or unseen. He was the hero for the underdog.

He was Danny’s hero.

Danny rubbed at the stray tear that fell down his cheek and let out a breath. He was gone now and everything felt wrong. He knew that there was a reason behind it, knew that he needed to do what he did. But it still hurt, still made it hard for him to even breathe as the days went by. It was necessary, though, it was.

It was the only thing they could have done, but it didn’t make it hurt any less, didn’t make it feel like his lungs were shriveling up in his chest or like his heart was cracking into multiple pieces.

He was the one who had to watch as Tim slowly slipped away, as he carefully tied up each and every loose end in his life without anyone but Danny ever knowing or ever seeing what it was that he was doing. It was hard, it was painful and he found himself fighting over the feelings that seemed to war inside of him as the days went by.

It had been a week.

A week and Danny was still filled with regret, filled with what ifs and questions.

What if they had been able to do it a different way? What if there had been a different solution than the one that they had found? What if there was a way to do this without leaving every person in Gotham feeling like they were now missing a part of themselves?

He saw it in the ways they all looked towards Wayne Enterprises, where Red Robin once stood confidently with his arms crossed over his chest as he stared out over the cityscape. How he heard the other bats start to call for him only to falter in their steps.

He saw it in the way that Bruce would stand over Tim’s grave, silent and sturdy and unable to actually look at the headstone.

Logically, Danny knew it was the only way. Knew that he was going to have to end things like this. He knew every time that he looked at Tim that it was the right decision to make. But it didn’t seem to take the guilt away.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it.

Saw the way that he sliced the knife across Tim’s throat, saw the blood spray out onto the carpet, and felt his heart break as he saw the light fade out of the man’s eyes for just a moment.

His mental state was in a stalemate as he tried to move on from what had happened, to come to terms with the part that he played in everything. Red Robin was gone and it felt wrong, it was a robbery to the people of Gotham City, and he knew that the walls of Wayne Manor likely felt hollow. Because of Danny, because of what he did.

Red Robin was a hero for the unseen, the ones who needed saving from themselves, the ones who were barely keeping their head above water.

He was a hero for people like Danny. Which made sense as to why he would show up now.

“What are you doing out here?” A voice asked and Danny turned to find Tim standing behind him, his bright eyes curious as ever.

Danny turned back to the city and let out a deep, heavy sigh as he looked out over the city once again. “I feel like a piece of shit,” he said mirthlessly. “I know that what we did was necessary, was the only way to keep you safe from Ra’s and I know that you’re okay. You’re a halfa, you’re like me. But every time I close my eyes, all I see is me killing you,” he whispered. “I look at my hands and I see your blood on them. It’s like it’s seared into my memories forever.”

Tim let out a breath of his own as he sat down beside Danny and twinned their fingers together as he stared out at the city. “It was horrible of me to ask you to kill me,” he admitted, tilting his head to the side in that curious way he did when his mind was going in about thirty different directions and he was planning at least five steps ahead of what was going on.

“It was necessary,” Danny breathed out. “It had to be me so that I could transfer ectoplasm to you.”

“Yes, and I’m grateful Danny, you have no idea,” Tim said quietly as he squeezed Danny’s hand, holding it in his lap as he let his feet dangle over the side of the building. “It hurts,” he said quietly.

Danny hummed in response. “I know,” he said simply. “Dying sucks ass.”

Tim shook his head. “No, I mean it hurts knowing that they think I’m dead. They’re all grieving me. That was the hardest part,” he whispered, still staring out at the city, his eyes glazed over and unseeing. “Being turned into a halfa was whatever. I’ve had my throat slit before by Hood. I’ve had so many near-death experiences that dying was actually easier,” he said with a humorless laugh.

The newly created halfa sucked in a breath and closed his eyes as he tipped his head back, his nose now pointed towards the sky. He let out the breath slowly, his thumb rubbed against the back of Danny’s hand. The new death scar that marred Tim’s neck shone against the bright lights of Wayne Tower.

“What hurts is knowing that Dick is down there grieving both me and Bruce. Knowing that the only way I could ever save Bruce was by dying myself was fine. Knowing that Dick, and Jason, and Barbara, and Alfred and hell, even Damian are all down there grieving? That hurts worse than any of it. Knowing that my heartbeat is forever different so not even Kon can track him down now that he’s alive once more. It’s. It’s hard, and it hurts Danny. It hurts knowing that they’re all down there grieving me, thinking that I’m dead. And it hurts knowing that I’m probably never going to get to go back to the life I had. That even after I save Bruce, I’m never going to go home.”

Danny hummed in response. “I still don’t understand why I couldn’t have been the one to go and get Bruce for you. Or to be the one to kill Ra’s,” he said but Tim was already shaking his head.

“We’ve been over this, Danny,” Tim said, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “Even if you were the one to kill Ra’s for me and bring Bruce back, I would never be able to stop running. Talia would be after me, the Council of Spiders is still after me, the Justice League thinks I’m batshit, and I’m pretty sure I would never feel safe again. Being a halfa, being this, it makes it easier. I can survive whatever is thrown at me. Not only that, but I’m with you,” he said quietly and finally opened his eyes to look at Danny, a small smile graced his beautiful face.

Tim let out a shaky breath and shook his head. “Who would have thought that my mission would take me to the sleepy town of Amity Park? And that I’d meet you, the answer to all of my questions,” he said before he leaned over and gave Danny a soft kiss.

Danny just smiled against his boyfriend’s lips for a moment. “Well, it didn’t lead you straight to me. I mean you put your nose into a lot of places it didn’t belong and I was already investigating the whole Batman timestream thing in Gotham when it happened,” he said with a chuckle.

Tim just snorted and pulled his head back, shaking his head in amusement as he did. Danny just smiled and stared back out into the city.

When he had met Tim, he was in Gotham trying to figure out how the hell Bruce Wayne had been catapulted into the timestream when Valerie had called him demanding he come back to Amity and talk to the weirdo who was trying to break into the local museum. He had gone back to find a haggard Red Robin trying to find his own clues to figure out what happened. They had compared notes, and started investigating together. Danny had been ordered by Clockwork to collect all of the bat-themed artifacts that were spread out in the world, and Tim was desperately trying to collect evidence to get Bruce back.

Along the way, they had developed feelings for one another. Danny figured it had to do with the fact that they were trauma bonding as they went about their mission. They had managed to evade Ra’s who was actively hunting Tim down, evade the Council of Spiders who was also hunting Tim down, and evade the bats who were trying to drag Tim back to Gotham to shove him into Arkham for being batshit insane.

It was what led Tim to decide that he needed to die to get them all to leave him alone. They still had thirty more artifacts to find before Clockwork would allow them to hop into the timestream and pull Bruce back. Something about righting all of the wrongs that Bruce had caused before getting him back to the present. Danny wasn’t even going to pretend to understand why they couldn’t just drag Bruce back and then hunt down the rest of the artifacts. But as his mentor always liked to remind him, it wasn’t for him to question. So the seventeen-year-old simply accepted what the ghost of time told him and went along for the ride.

Faking Tim’s death had been hard, though.

They had to make it perfect, they had to actually kill him to pull it off. Danny had slit Tim’s throat efficiently and carefully. Had watched as his blood sprayed his clothes and the room, and the light died in Tim’s eyes. He had forced the ectoplasm into Tim who became a halfa almost instantaneously, just as Clockwork told him he would.

From there, he had receded into his core and allowed his human body to stay there. Damian and Dick had been the ones who found Tim. They had done all the tests showing that it was actually Tim’s body.

Danny didn’t stay to see how the funeral went. He had hidden out in the Infinite Realms like a coward until the agreed-upon time to get Tim back. After a week, he had gone to the fresh grave and pulled Tim out of it, leaving behind an identical duplicate of his boyfriend. And somehow the two had now found themselves sitting on top of Wayne Tower, watching the city below them mourn the death of one of their most beloved vigilantes.

From what they had gathered, it had been whispered in the streets that Red Robin had died in the field, none of the others able to bear the thought of replacing his mantle. A Red Robin suit hung in the Batcave beside an old Robin suit. There wasn’t a plaque for it yet.

“It’s worth it,” Tim said, his nose scrunched. “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it is. Once all of this is over, we can go anywhere. You don’t live in Amity anymore, not after everything with your parents. We’re seventeen, we can go anywhere we want in the world, do anything.”

“Maybe one day we can come back to Gotham. You wouldn’t be the first bat who came back to life,” Danny said gently, still holding Tim’s hand in his.

Tim gave him a grim smile. “Maybe,” he said, although, it didn’t sound like he believed it. And maybe he didn’t. From what he told Danny, too many lines had been crossed. Bridges had been burned and from what it sounded like, Tim wasn’t convinced they could ever be mended. The freshly created halfa stood up and wiped his pants before a bright ring of light surrounded him, showing his new ghost form. “For now, we have work to do.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny gets kidnapped by the joker. He's missing for an hour and a half at most but when the bats find him, he's sitting unbound in a chair looking at the jokers corpse. Danny's face has a soft smile and when asked what happened Danny just says 'justice'

Later they find video of Danny while tied up reading the jokers mind for absolute filth leaving him cry and broken on the floor, and the the camera glitches out and cute for a few minutes then comes back on to the joker dead and Danny free.

Danny wants it to be known that he hadn't gone looking for trouble, no matter what Tim Drake says. He only meant to go to the mall and do regular teenage things with the ward of cash Bruce had handed him.

He hadn't been lying when he said the mall back home was small, and after a lap, it got really dull. It was more entertaining to go to Nasty Burger than to linger around the few shops selling the same thing.

Alfred had let it slip the last time he came around for Danny's clothes- the old man had thrown a fit when Danny attempted to do his own laundry, and then Danny threw a fit claiming he had to do some of the chores or he wouldn't live there, and they came to an agreement to do 50/50 of responsibilities- that the mall was one of Bruce's favorite places to be as a teenager.

He didn't fully outsay it, but Danny could tell Alfred was getting tired of him not venturing out. Alfred also seemed bothered by Danny's lack of motivation for anything- and probably feared that he was slowly falling into depression for being stuck here.

Granted, Danny did not allow them to see him do anything besides sleep, eat, and laze about- with a shower every night- he could see where his concern was coming from. Danny was most active at night when he left a duplicate- he could not make it move or speak since it was a new power, so it placed it in his bed to appear asleep- and rushed away for a few hours to work on his ship.

So Alfred not so casually told him of Gotham Mall, with its five floors containing five hundred and twenty stores. The Mall at Amity Park only has seventy-one stores.

Danny was dying to see it just to see a mall that big.

Then the Butler made the deal sweeter by suggesting Danny do his outing alone, without his Wayne bodyguards, and convinced Bruce to give him some pocket money.

Nine hundred! Bruce's idea of pocket money is nine hundred, which means Danny could have an excellent time shopping. So Danny took a shower, threw on a nice pair of jeans that hugged all the right places- according to Steph- a black T-shirt, and scurried down the stairs.

At the door, Bruce talks in low voices with his sons- Damian and Jason- but all three turned to him once he appeared.

Damian's regular haughty expression evaporated once he caught sight of Danny's shirt. His jaw slacked in surprise as he breathed, "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, this? Alfred had it printed on a shirt for me." Danny gestures to the notable constellations floating in space's blue, green, and purple gasses.

Orion was the center of the work, being the only one with a figure shaped into a human with the stars that made him visible inside his body. The other constellations floating around him remained bright spots with no lines.

"I drew you that," Damian tells him as though Danny forgot where the image he passed along to Alfred had come from.

"Yeah, and I put it on a shirt 'cause it's awesome. I love it from the moment I saw it." Danny shrugs, watching with an amused grin as Damian's face flushes bright red.

The younger boy looks down at his feet, but not before Danny can spot the pure, unadulterated glee his words have caused in the kid.

"You have some taste, it seems." Damian mutters. Jason and Bruce are beaming, their eyes sparkling in a way that would belie their relationship is through adoption instead of blood.

"Most parents put their kid's drawings on the fridge instead of wearing them," Jason teases, and Danny shrugs.

"Most parents have talentless kids." He barely bites back the rest of his words. Damian isn't my kid because I am not Bruce, and he hurries to the doorway. "Anyway, I'm heading out. I'll be back by eleven,"

"You'll be back by nine." Bruce corrects, taking on the tone of a scolding parent. Danny is violently reminded of his own dad when Jazz is dating Johnny. He misses him. "Gotham is dangerous after dark. Alfred got us all to let you go alone, but that doesn't mean you can be reckless."

"Please, what's the worst that can happen?" Danny asked, practically skipping the stairs to the Uber Alfred called for him.

The worst that could have happened was that a stupid clown, calling himself Joker, had attacked the mall while Danny was browsing a gothic store.

He had been comparing two black dresses, trying to figure out which one Sam would prefer- and no, he was not blushing or feeling giggly thinking of her reaction. Just like he hadn't done the same when he picked up a personal electric planner for Tuck two floors down- when the Joker's goons had literally yanked him out of the store.

He only had a few minutes to blink in the bright light, as "Hot Topic" had been low light sightings for the store's ambiance, before he was thrown at the feet of a cackling man in purple.

His hands had been tied behind his back as they moved him, and Danny could only applause their quick hands. It's impressive for them to get it done with how much he thrashed.

Danny's first thought of the purple suit man was, "That's a ghost if I ever darn seen one," only to realize that his ghost sense had not gone off. The man just looked like that. How unfortunate.

"Well, well, if it isn't Brucie's newest charity case!" Joker shouted, yanking Danny's face up from his chin and leaning close to his face.

"Dude, personal space." He says, scrunching up his nose as the Joker's breath hits his nostrils. "Also, invest in some dental insurance."

"Oh, we have ourselves a jokester here, folks!" The clown's laugh did not hide the anger or shy away from madness. Danny suddenly felt he may have to tap into Phantom to get away from him.

This was a being that hurt others just because he could. Joker very existence was to simply harm others.

The very opposite of Phantom.

All of his instincts were screaming as Joker put his arm around Danny's shoulder and told the watching horrified crowd. "I'm a bit of a jokester myself. Why don't I give you private lessons and let these people judge whose death is funnier? Little Danny Kane or Bernad Dowd?"

The crowd parted, most gasping in horror as another teenage boy was dragged to the front. He was covered in wounds, bleeding a slow, sluggish mess, and his head bobbed as if though he was about to faint.

Danny's pupils shrunk, and his core raged as the boy was backhanded in front of him. Joker- the soon-to-be dead man- spread his arms, shouting for the whole world to be heard. "This is a special performance for Timothy Drake-Wayne. I hope you enjoy watching your boyfriend and adoptive brother partake in my game as a thank-you for your generous donation to the families of the last people I made laugh! I want everyone to know that any more donations to such families will have a similar show for their own loved ones!"

Danny's mind went white with a loud ringing, and somewhere far away, he was aware that Joker had them moved to a room to play his game.

He barely registered the camera being set up or tied to a chair surrounded by tortuous-looking items. He didn't even notice poor Bernard- already lost consciousness- tied to the chair beside him.

He only had eyes for the laughing man in purple.

But it was not Danny watching him, it was Phantom.

And Phantom was fresh out of mercy.

"No need for such an ugly frown," Joker chuckles, unaware of the ghost's core vibrating with the need to Protect what it recognizes a an attack on the Waynes.

An attack on his people.

"Let's turn that frown upside down!" Joker says, and- those are his last words.

Phantom pounces.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes an hour and a half for them to be found. It might have been more, but Danny had only counted for that amount. Bernad had been stabilized after he performed some emergency field first aid on him, trying his best to not look at the smear of bones and guts that used to be Joker.

Bruce breaks down the door with Tim rushing to his boyfriend in a frantic cry for his lover's name.

Danny steps back to let him have better access. He follows beside Bruce, watching Tim hold Bernad to his chest, breathing him in. He'll be fine. A few bruises and broken bones, but Bernad will leave.

"What happened?" Batman demands.

Danny looks up to stare at him right in the eyes despite the mask blocking his pupils. "Justice."

Bruce doesn't say anything in response, but the silence- for the first time since he found Danny in that cave- is heavy and weary.

Danny needs to hurry with his repairs. He thinks he is about to wear out his welcome at Wayne Manor. It's a pity he was just starting to like it there.

Master post link

[petite-phthora]

Breaking news!

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first… murder? - part 19]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

In-chat nicknames:

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl = Bruce

Discowing = Dick

BloodSon = Damian

TheHotOne = Steph

TheCuteOne = Cass

Omnipotent = Babs

Flashlight = Duke

Sherlock = Tim

---

“Good evening, Gotham City. Breaking news!

“The Gotham City Police Department has had a shocking breakthrough in the case of the mysterious disappearance of the notorious criminal mastermind, the Joker, after his escape from Arkham Asylum.

“The GCPD has gotten a tip, provided by an anonymous source, that confirms the Joker is… dead. You heard that right, folks. The Joker is dead!

“The photo on screen right now was anonymously sent out to the GCPD. It appears to be a zoomed-in picture of the Joker’s lifeless body, with another person whose identity is currently unknown being cut off.

“Now we can’t show you the entire image due to its graphic nature, but I assure you, the details are unmistakable. It’s him.

“After years of terrorizing our city, it seems we might finally be rid of this menace for good. It’s a moment many in Gotham never thought they'd ever see. Already, some are calling it a cause for celebration, a long-overdue end to the madness.

“One can only hope his reign of terror over the citizens of Gotham is finally gone for good. This could be the dawn of a new era for Gotham.

“Though the identity of the other person in the picture and the cause of death are still unknown, the people at the GCPD are working their hardest to uncover these mysteries. Stay tuned for more updates as we learn more about this shocking development.

“Until then, stay safe, Gotham. We may just have something to celebrate tonight!”

The camera cuts away, the headline “Joker Confirmed Dead” scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

---

5 days since the Joker DIED

TheHotOne: *picture*

TheHotOne: who did it??!!

TheHotOne: tim, ws it oyu?

TheHotOne: dick?! >:(

TheHotOne: babs???

TheHotOne: whoevre it wad bettr fess up!!!

TheHotOne: tping the manr….

TheHotOne: without me????!!!!

TheHotOne: this is betrayel og the highrdt irder

Discowing: Wasn’t me, Steph! 🥺 I swear 🙆‍♂️

TheHotOne: u swer on ur discowing suit? >:((

Discowing: Yes 😟

Sherlock: wasn’t me

TheHotOne: hmmmm, fair

TheHotOne: u probaby wuldve taken the credit for it if it were u >:/

Omnipotent: Why don’t you ask Cass and Alfred, Steph? I’m sure they would be of much more use to you when figuring out this mystery ☺️

TheHotOne: !!!!

TheHotOne: cass?! (:0

TheHotOne: was it you?!?!?!?!?

TheHotOne: how cud yu?!?!?!?!?  /(;o;)/

TheCuteOne: Not me.

TheCuteOne: Jason and brother-in-law.

TheHotOne: brother-in-law??!? o.O

Discowing: Brother-in-law?! 😱

TheCuteOne: What Jason said to call him.

BloodSon: Todd and his beloved are moving too quickly. This is extremely suspicious. We should not rule out the possibility of mild control or other enchantments.

BloodSon: It would hardly be surprising if Todd’s mind has been overtaken. I don’t suppose it would be too difficult. After all, Todd is rather simple-minded.

Flashlight: Despite the insults, I feel like Damian might have a point

Flashlight: This all seems to go pretty fast, are we sure Jason isn’t being mind-controlled or being taken advantage of somehow??

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl: That is a very likely possibility we should not rule out. Oracle, how are the investigations into the suspect going?

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl: And can my name be changed back now?

Omnipotent: I’ve gotten some basic information that I’ve already compiled into a new file and sent to the bat computer, but nothing of note yet. Most of it seems to be hidden behind a firewall that I’ve been trying to break through but it’s been slow going so far

Omnipotent: And for the chat name to be unlocked and changed you will have to get Jason to no longer be pissed off at you 🫤

Omnipotent: So I would get used to the name if I were you, B

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl: And the investigation into the Joker’s murder and who leaked the picture?

Omnipotent: More dead-ends, though the edited picture seems to have been spread around from Harley Quinn, who got it from Jason, to some of her associates. However, it is unclear who exactly shared it with the GCPD

Omnipotent: Jason seems to be the key component to all of this, so you’ll have to get him to spill the beans if we want to get any more info on the case

Sherlock: *link*

Flashlight: What is that?

Sherlock: petition to make the day we were freed of the joker into a regional holiday

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl: Red Robin, take that down. We will not celebrate the death of a person.

TheHotOne: signed

Flashlight: Signed

TheCuteOne: 👍

Discowing: Signed 😊

---

“I never thought I’d find another halfa!” Danny beams at Jason.

“I thought there were only 4 of us, y’know? And Clockwork never mentioned or implied anything on the contrary. I never thought there’d be another one of us, especially not seeing as you’re not from Amity, nor do you have any connection with my parents as far as I’m aware.

“How’d it even happen? I didn’t think there were any more artificial portals around other than ours and Vlad’s. Was it a natural portal? Or are there more ectobiologists out there trying to create a rift into the Realms?

“Wait, no, sorry, you don’t have to answer that. Stupid Danny. Forget I asked that. It’s too early for us to exchange death stories.

“Though, are you a halfa? You do feel a bit different. The ecto in you is more muted. And it’s strange that I didn’t sense it before, now that I think about it. But we can discuss that later. I’m so glad we’re the same, this is great news! It makes everything so much easier!

“I thought I was gonna have to keep my undeadness a secret from you for a little while before trying to gently break it to you and hoping you wouldn’t run away screaming, or have me sent to a psychiatrist again.

“Last time was so not fun and I can still remember Jazz’s unimpressed eyebrow raise as she saw I was her new patient clearly. But hey, th—"

“What is happening to me?” Jason’s trembling voice cuts off Danny’s excited rambling.

Danny immediately stops talking and looks back over at Jason. His eyes are still glowing ecto-green, the glow seemingly stuttering like he’s at war with himself over something. Jason is looking right back at Danny as well, his face stony though he almost seems like he’s trying to hold back tears.

But what stills Danny completely is the slightly shaking gun pointed right at his head.

---

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