#so he asked Constantine and Zatanna for help

[silicon-puppy-pudding]

Dpxdc prompt? Snippet? Idk?

I've had this scene stuck in my head for so long idk what to do with it so yall can have it.

~~~~~~~◇~~•~~◇~~~~~~{☆}~~~~~~◇~~•~~◇~~~~~~~

"We...may need to call on Phantom for this."

Batman grumbled at Constantine's remark. Up until now they hadn't had any issues with ghosts and he was hoping it would be longer before they needed to pull Phantom in for his expertise.

~

It had only been a month since King Phantom and his children came crashing into their dimension. Their ship had come out of a Lazarus green portal that spontaneously appeared in the lower atmosphere just outside of Gotham. Batman had called the League for potential backup and ended up surrounding the strange craft with Superman, Green Lantern, Martin Manhunter, and Zatanna for magical support.

They were not expecting a child, one no older then 6 or 7, with pearlescent white hair and striking green eyes to come tumbling out and crying for them to help her father.

~

Superman stood up from his place at the meeting room table with the grace of a man who didn't feel comfortable pestering an eldritch god of a man until it was absolutely necessary, "Are we sure this is a ghost? It could very well be something else-"

"Oh it's definitely a ghost," Constantine cut him off, taking a drag of his (against league policy) lit cigarette and blowing the smoke up at the ceiling, "There's no mistaken it. Even before Phantom's little 'crash course' on ghosts I coulda told ya that."

Batman looked over the blurry images on screen. They were of what looked to be two individuals riding a motorcycle at dangerous speeds through Metropolis. Superman had told them they hadn't hurt anyone directly but had caused a few minor crashes and were a general pain to interact with. Just like Phantom had told them, they couldn't be picked up clearly on any modern cameras and Superman hadn't had any luck capturing them. They simply slipped through a wall or disappeared around a block. It had been a week of this and Clark had finally given up and called for assistance.

"Isn't it like, 4am in Gotham?" Flash asked, leaning back in his chair, "Wouldn't he be asleep or something? Does he sleep?" The last bit he mostly asked to himself.

"Yes, he does," Batman answered, much to the confusion of Flash. "I'll make the call."

After a few rings the line picked up to a slightly slurred and staticky, "Hello?"

"Phantom, are you available at the moment. We think we may have...a ghost problem. In Metropolis."

A pause. Then a tired sigh came through the line, "Alright, give me 10 minutes." And the call ended.

Superman shifted uncomfortably, "It sounded like you woke him up." Of course he was listening. Batman glared at him, then turned to the rest of the gathered league, "He'll be here in 10 minutes."

About 6 minutes later a portal ripped itself open next to the window of the meeting room and out stepped Phantom, looking less drowsy then he sounded. Clinging to his back (to the League's surprise) was his oldest, Dante. And cradled in his arms, wrapped against his chest with his cape was his youngest, Eleonora, (they're only a month apart but Dante would throw a fit if he wasn't referred to as oldest sibling)

With a jaw cracking yawn Phantom stepped forward towards the meeting table, "Sorry, I hope it's alright I brought the kids." He started, running a hand through his daughter's hair, "Elly just had a nightmare and Dan didn't want to be left alone."

Over his shoulder, the little prince grumbled something about 'too quiet' and 'bad memories' and wasn't that mildly concerning.

"It's alright, you're majesty." Superman stood and gave Phantom a nervous smile. He didn't not trust the man but anything magical and/or supernatural tended to make even him nervous, "We know we called you quiet early and out of the blue... Sorry about waking you up,"

Phantom waved him off with another yawn, "Nah, it's fine, you didn't wake me. I was already up with Elly when you called." At her names mention, the little princess shifted and let out a small whimper. Phantom sighed and then a rumbling sound started up in his chest that sounded a lot like purring. At the noise, little Elly settled down again.

It was sweet, seeing this supposedly all powerful being just being a single father. A few days after the king was treated in the Watchtower's medical facility, they got a taste of what Phantom was capable of when a small armada of alien ships decided now was the best time to attack Earth.

~

The League had been gathered to discuss how to proceed when Phantom had stepped in and offered his assistance. "I owe you all for saving me," he had argued when they tried to refuse.

15 minutes

It took King Phantom 15 minutes (and 25 seconds) to have the aliens running with their tail between their legs. Debris from the lead ship unrecognizable.

~

"Alright, now what's this 'ghost problem' you need me for?" At that, the League (mostly Superman, considering it was in his city) explained the situation to their resident 'Ghost expert'.

~~~~~~~◇~~•~~◇~~~~~~{☆}~~~~~~◇~~•~~◇~~~~~~~

And that's it, idk where this was going but now it's out of my brain

And my hands

[letoasai]

The Youngest Ancient

An idea where the JL has gotten word from Green Lantern that a planet has been destroyed. That threat is headed for Earth. 

We could blame it on Darkseid despite the fact that i don’t actually know if that’s within his power set. Bad guy of your choice. Keeping it vague works too. 

Danny finding out that one of his planets is gone and he’s not having it. 

~~

They were short on time. Monumentally short on time. Usually everyone would look to Batman in a situation like this. It wasn’t like his numerous contingency plans were a secret. The problem was time and an overall lack of information about the coming threat. All that was clear was the fact that Earth was in danger. 

Not even a normal, run of the mill danger, but the planet bleeding out of existence kind of danger. Supposedly it could happen so fast that the citizens of Earth wouldn’t even know it had happened. 

“There’s always begging an Ancient for help.” Constantine muttered, lighting another cigarette. As many members of the League as possible had gathered but brainstorming could only get them so far. 

Multiple gazes snapped to him but it was Wonder Woman who spoke first. “You think petitioning the gods would be a wise course of action?” 

“Could be the only course of action.” Flash muttered though no one looked happy about it. 

“Nah, it’s a much crazier idea than that.” Constantine said flatly. “We’re not talking about any of those old hats we’re used to dealing with. I mean an Ancient. Their powers are next level stuff. Above the gods on the totem pole, if you will.” 

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to bring in a complete unknown.” 

“I want the planet to fucking be in the same spot tomorrow, mate.” Constantine snapped back. They were out of time but he evidently had more practice at being reckless then the rest of the League. “Heard tales of a new baby Ancient. A likable kid that has many of the heavy hitters doting on `em. Word is the baby Ancient is rather agreeable. Makes deals. Likes to explore. That kind of thing.” 

“Baby Ancient.” Superman repeated, clearly hearing the oxymoron in that title. “How does that work?”

“Well they gotta come from somewhere, don’t they?” Constantine shrugged. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to ask. 

“I’ve heard the same rumors.” Zatanna heaved a sigh, adding credence to Constantine’s claims. “Even if they can’t do anything themself, they might have enough pull with one of the other Ancients that can.” 

Flash clucked his tongue. “We literally have everything to lose if we don’t do something. If no one else has any other ideas then we need to give it a shot.” 

“How long do you need to prepare?” Batman asked, his frown obvious. He never fully liked ideas that he didn’t have a hand in.

Constantine sat up straighter, taking a pull from his cigarette and already looking exhausted. “Gimme an hour.” 

“I’ll help.” Zatanna said, already standing. 

“Forty minutes then.” 

~

The light of the summoning circle was hard to look at. It was like a mini supernova right in front of them. The colors would have been amazing to look at if anyone could have opened their eyes to see it. 

When it dimmed, leaving only a toxic looking green glow around the circle, a young boy floated in the center. His hair was white and flowed even in the tightly air controlled Watch tower. The freckles across his face seemed to glow just like his green eyes. 

He was cute, and couldn't have been more than fifteen. He wore a skintight black suit, calf high white boots, and had a strange looking thermos hanging off his belt. So this was a baby Ancient. He looked utterly perplexed. 

“Um…” He blinked, taking in every member of the Justice League slowly.

“Welcome to the Justice League Watch Tower.” Wonder Woman said, ever the diplomat. “We apologize for summoning you on such short notice.” 

“Oh. Okay.” He was still blinking owlishly before his eyes locked onto one of the windows that currently had a vast view of space. The boy all but purred at the sight. “You can call me Phantom. What do you want?” 

“You’re the new Ancient?” Constantine asked without as much tacked.

Phantom sighed, shifting to sit even as he floated. “So they tell me. I didn’t know there was going to be a superhero test.” 

“We summoned you to request assistance if you are able to give it.” Batman said, taking over. “A threat is coming to destroy the Earth and we don’t have much time. Is there something in particular you would want in payment?” 

“Besides souls.” Constantine muttered which subtly alarmed everyone within earshot. 

“Destroy…Earth?” Phantom repeated slowly, head tilting. It was slowly occurring to everyone that maybe a baby Ancient really was too young to deal with something like this. “Why?”

Green Lantern sighed, arms crossed. “I’m likely the cause. Earth is the home base for Lanterns in this sector. The previous planet destroyed was also a home base.” 

Phantom’s eyes jerked up, his full attention on Green Lantern. “Previous planet destroyed? Where?” He paused, “And when? I have been feeling a little off.” 

No one knew quite what to make of the strange comment, but Lantern continued anyway. “A planet in the neighboring sector, 2813. It has been eight days, and before long, that threat will be here.” 

“Is it possible you know of a way to prevent the destruction of Earth?” Wonder Woman asked, but Phantom seemed distracted. 

He removed his gloves and was looking at the back of his hands. When that didn’t seem to tell him what he wanted, he tugged on his sleeve, making the fabric go invisible in small sections so he could easily look at his skin beneath it without the cumbersome task of rolling his sleeves up. 

He was covered in glowing freckles, just like on his face, but one by one the League members took notice of the way they moved. Phantom would twist his arm one way and then another and each set of freckles would be replaced by a completely new set of glowing little spots. When that didn’t show him what he wanted, he kept looking, checking both arms first before moving down his chest slowly. 

The League could do nothing but watch the strangeness before them as their follow up questions went ignored. 

When he got to a spot under his ribs, Phantom screeched. “It’s gone!” 

“Phantom…?” 

Phantom looked out the Watch Tower window, his face morphing into one of fury. His eyes shined brightly and whatever he was looking for, he clearly found. 

“T̢̜̞̮ͭ̓ͫͦh̨̻̼͓͓̜ͭ̈͆ȃ̴̩ͅtͯ̚͏͇̮̖̙ ̡̭͎̝̟͇͙̏ͣ̑͛m̵̭͉͈̳̟͎͈̲̋̋o͈̮̫͓̪͔͐͠t͉̬̉͒̈́ͪ͠h͉̠̭͓̞͎̺͓ͥͥ͘e̅͗̔̿҉̞̪̺̮̗̜r͙̪̼͈̐̉͞ ̫̥̳̿̾͒͑͞f͔̟͈͍ͯ̊̏́ù̶̯̬̫͈͕c̲ͣ̓̿͠ͅk̦̘̖̭͕͉̹̥̈̍̈́ͤ͘e͚̬͗͡ͅr̛̤̩̺͂̃̇̉ͅ.”

To say the Justice League was surprised by the shift in the boys tone was an understatement. 

“Yeah, i’ll stop your threat.” Phantom growled, easily leaving the summoning circle. He shifted right through the wall and directly into space without a care. 

Silence filled the room, no one entirely sure what they’d done by summoning a baby Ancient. “So that happened.” Flash commented. “Are we still planning for doomsday?” 

“We’ll see…” Constantine muttered. “Though if that kid gets hurt, might be bad for the universe.” 

“Not what we wanted to hear, John.” Wonder Woman said, looking out the window. Nothing looked unusual to her. 

~

In an hour's time, Phantom returned just as distracted as he’d been when he’d left. He remained seated in the air as he held what looked like a cracked marble in his hands. It was surrounded by a mist, and inside sparked with many different colors. 

Phantom seemed to be sealing the crack, a smile on his face. 

Batman was the one to approach, and if he was anxious it was hard to tell. “Phantom.” He greeted cautiously. “You’re back.”

“Uh huh.” Phantom said, eyes glittering happily at the marble. “I got rid of your problem. Earth is safe.” 

“Got…rid of.” Batman repeated slowly, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. 

“So we’re good?” Flash asked. “Good work, kid.” 

“Yeah, he deserved it.” Phantom said, finally cradling the smooth marble in his palm. 

Constantine was still smoking, but his eyes were narrowed. “Do i wanna know what you’re doin’?”

Phantom beamed. “I got my planet back! It was a little broken but i fixed it.” 

“Your planet?” Green Lantern repeated, adrenaline hitting him. “The destroyed planet!?” 

“Yep.” Phantom looked pleased with himself. “Now i just gotta set it back in time eight days to get everyone back on track and i can put it back where it belongs.” 

“Put it…back.” Batman seemed to have trouble with the skill set of one teenager.” 

It was Superman who slid closer with a disarmingly charming smile. “May i ask what kind of Ancient you are. I admit i don’t know much about them.” 

Phantom perked up. “I’m the Ancient of Space!” He ignored Constantine’s groan from across the room. “I’m really glad you guys called me about this! It would have taken me a while to find a planet destroyed out of the natural timeline.” 

“And you have time abilities?” Wonder Woman asked softly. Time and Space was a heady combination. 

“Nope! But Clockwork does.” Phantom said. “He’ll do it for me.” 

“Will he?” The Flash stared. 

Phantom didn’t seem to notice the incredulous looks. As far as he was concerned, everyone was simply taking his explanations in stride. Tilting his head back his eyes shimmered with power. “Clockwork!” he called, voice reverberating oddly. No one missed Zatanna paling or Constantine cursing. No one had time to ask either before a tear appeared just to the right of Phantom. It split the very air apart in a green haze before a portal opened and a man floated out. Wrapped in a purple cloak, the man floated like Phantom did but had a ghostly tail instead of legs and off putting red eyes. 

He had a staff donned with clock gears and mechanisms that ticked in an unsettling way. No one needed an explanation, which was good because Constantine wasn’t going to give one. 

This was the Ancient of Time. They had two Ancients in the Watch Tower. 

Phantom didn’t seem bothered and held out his marble with a smile. “Fix!” he asked cheerfully. 

Clockwork turned from what appeared to be an adult man to an elderly man in the blink of an eye. “You know time is sensitive, Phantom. Not everything can be changed on a whim." 

Phantom’s smile lessened. He looked back and forth from Clockwork to the marble and back to Clockwork again. “I’ll cry. Swear to the Ancients, i’ll start crying.” 

The elderly Clockwork shifted back into the form of a young man. “Do you think tears will alter the timeline?” 

Batman smiled, almost. He knew a mischievous teen trying to get his way when he saw one. That theory proved correct when Phantom honestly did begin to sniffle, eyes becoming damp. 

“An asshole destroyed a piece of me.” Phantom said, lips wobbling. “I felt it. I didn’t feel good.” 

Clockwork’s form shifted again, this time into the form of a young child. He heaved a sigh, “If you start weeping you’ll summon the others.” 

Phantom nearly whimpered, holding out the marble still. Every member of the Justice League watched with bated breath. 

Clockwork crossed his arms. “How far back do you want it?” 

“Yay!” Phantom beamed immediately, impressing upon how young he must have been. “Eight days! Actually, maybe nine. That might be better for them. I’m sure the…Green Lantern…people… can explain that they lost little more than a week in order to be brought back. That’ll be fine, right?” 

Green Lantern was too stunned by the question to answer but it was fine since it seemed to be rhetorical coming from the young Ancient. 

Clockwork turned back into an adult and held his staff out over the marble Phantom held. There was no discernible change other than the hands on the staff’s clock face moving. Phantom was nearly bouncing in place which was interesting to see considering his feet weren’t on the floor. 

“Thank you, Clockwork!” Phantom said, looking delighted and completely missing the way Clockwork just sighed fondly. 

“Hurry along home before the yeti’s start to look for you.” Clockwork said in a fairly familiar tone. 

“Yes, yes.” Phantom said distractedly, tossing the marble up in the air where it disappeared. He tugged at his black suit right over his ribs and did the same invisibility trick again. He shifted twice until he found the patch of skin that held the group of freckles he wanted. 

No one was close enough to see for themselves, but Phantom crowed happily. “Good! It’s back where it’s supposed to be!” 

“It’s back?” Batman asked, a hint in his voice saying he had a hundred more questions. 

“Yep.” Phantom said. “It’s really annoying to me when someone destroys one of my stars or planets before their natural life cycles have worn out.” 

“Is that a map of the galaxy on your skin?” Wonder Woman asked, charmed by the constellation of freckles across his nose and under his pointed ears. 

“No.” Phantom said. “It’s a map of every universe on my skin. They overlap so sometimes i gotta hunt for the one i want a little.” 

“Every…” Superman sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him. 

“Come, Your Majesty.” Clockwork said, opening a shockingly green portal with his staff. “You’ve had your fun.” 

“Okay, okay.” Phantom mumbled. 

“Majesty?” Zatanna whispered, confusion coloring her tone. 

Phantom whipped back around to look at her with a sheepish grin. “Ah, yeah. I’m the King of the infinite Realm. Let me know if anyone else messes with one of my planets! Bye now.” 

The Ancients departed and Constantine started wheezing. 

“I take it no one knew the baby Ancient was a king?” Flash asked, a very startled silence taking over the Watch Tower. 

~~

I know i originally said that the planet had been destroyed but that somehow turned into it being eaten or absorbed or something so Danny got it back. 

I really just wanted Danny to find a missing planet on his skin and freaking out over it. 

Feel free to take this idea, though i’m sure something like it exists already. ^__^

Master List

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 1541

No one was prepared for the event that occurred a mere hours ago. Nightwing and Robin had been investigating an unknown target that had recently been causing trouble near the docks. There wasn't supposed to be an altercation, but when the person of interest showed up they weren't going to just let him walk away. 

This target had a trick up his sleeve though; literally. The moment he was cornered by the two vigilantes he had thrown a magical blast at Robin that managed to hit him square in the chest. By the time Nightwing had reached his side it was already too late and the magician had used that as his way to sneak away. 

“Robin?” Nightwing's voice is hesitant and soft as he peers down at the very small passed out child that lays in a pile of clothes. “Oh no.” 

As soon as the now tiny Damian is into his arms he’s rushing back to the cave. “Oracle, Robin and I ran into some trouble during our investigation. Alert Batman that he needs to get back to the cave as soon as he can.” 

“What’s happening? Do I need to get Dr. Leslie to the cave as well?” 

“No, not yet at least; neither of us is injured. We’ll need to contact Zatanna or Constantine though. It seems Robin got hit with some kind of de-aging spell.” 

The line on the other end was silent for a few moments before a soft snickering sound filled the comm line. “... I’m contacting everyone. How young would you say he is?”

“If I had to take a guess I’d say he’s 6 maybe 7.” Nightwing says as he glances down at the sleeping boy in his arms. He is taking so many photos as soon as he’s back in the cave Dick promises to himself. 

"So we have a baby assassin who's still deep in the LoA mindset. Is he awake right now? I can't imagine you'd be talking this calmly if you were trying to settle a Damian who  doesn't know you and seemingly woke up in a new location."

"He's asleep right now." He couldn't help but let out an exhausted sigh knowing that it wasn't going to be a fun time when Damian eventually wakes up, "As long as Robin doesn’t kill or hurt anyone by the end of this I'll count it as a personal win." 

"That'll count as a win for all of us." She hums, "Everyone available tonight has responded and should be waiting for your arrival. Good luck."

With that sign off the comm link went silent. He looks down at Damian's sleeping face once more and can't help but can't help to mourn the fact that this is the youngest he's ever seen his baby brother. He loves Damian at his normal age of 14 years old, but he also knows that he's going to enjoy having him this young as much as he can. 

It only took a few minutes after that to finally reach the cave. Dick took note of Bruce, Alfred, Tim, Jason, and Duke who were also in the cave, but ignored them for the moment in favor of rushing Damian to a med bay bed to lie him down. 

Before Dick can even fully settle Damian down he feels the familiar looming presence of Bruce standing behind him. "I hope you have a camera with you; I want to fill a photo album before this whole thing is done."

"We need to confirm that this is actually Damian first." Bruce reaches out, running a hand through the child's hair before gently plucking a couple hairs and turning away back to the computer. 

With Bruce occupied on the other side of the cave Jason, Tim, and Duke all shuffle in around the bed. Predictably, Tim does have a camera at the ready and immediately snaps a picture of Damian as soon as he's in the room. "I'm never letting him forget about this." 

"Just make sure you send me all your photos of this before trying to blackmail him to do anything with them." Dick is quick to say; he's getting his photo album one way or another. Knowing Damian he's going to try and destroy all evidence of this occurring. 

It is then that Alfred walks into the room as well, "Before we continue with the photos I insist we dress Master Damian in clothes that will more properly fit than the ones currently wrapped around him." 

After that was said Alfred gestured for all the boys out of the med bay room while he got Damian dressed in what must be some of Damian's smallest clothes that the older man was able to find. While waiting to be allowed back in the room a ping sounds out from behind them. It seems the DNA test is complete. 

"Well B, is it a boy, or are you still paranoid that the demon brat in there isn't actually Damian?" Jason questions as he walks forward and snatches the report. "Let's see! Yup, the boy is Damian alright; Bruce was being paranoid for no reason as usual." 

"How funny would it be though if the spell did just replace Damian with a 6 year old look alike though?" Duke grins as he takes a look at the report as well.

"… You think there's a spell that does that?" Jason looks far too interested in knowing that answer if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

"We could ask-"

"You will not be asking anyone that question." Bruce quickly interrupts that conversation from continuing. If Dick had to guess though he'd say that it wasn't over based on the look Jason and Duke share with one another.  "I've already contacted Zatanna, and she's on the way now to assess the situation; nothing more." 

Tim scoffs and gives an exaggerated eye roll, "Oh, might as well let them ask otherwise-."

It was just then the zeta tube pinged and Zatanna was then standing in the Batcave with them. At the same time Alfred also exits the med bay room. "Well Batman, I'm sure you don't want me to be here more than necessary so let's go ahead and take a look at the little Robin." 

"Hm." 

With nothing else said Bruce turns and walks to where Damian is sleeping; Zatanna follows silently behind him. Dick and the others follow as well, not wanting to not hear what she has to say about Damian's situation. 

Everyone watches silently as she examines Damian, saying a few magic words before addressing Bruce.  "Well the good news is that this isn't permanent. The binding magic surrounding him is pretty weak."

"And the bad news?" Dick is immediately asking.

"The bad news is that this isn't something I can just undo right here right now. De-aging magic is always complicated, and the less risks we take the better." Zatanna tells him, "Which means you're just going to have to wait this out. It looks like it'll only last a couple of days." 

Perfect! Dick can't help, but think that is a perfect amount of time. He can definitely get a photo album of the amount of pictures in that time, and they all get to spend time with Damian as the youngest they've ever seen him! The only thing they need to do is make sure the baby assassin doesn't hurt anyone. 

The group after that naturally filters back into the main area of the cave. Zatanna and Bruce share a couple quiet words before she enters the zeta tube and it is only them in the cave once more. 

"Guess the only thing to do now is to wait for the demon brat to wake up." Jason gleefully exclaims, "I for one am excited to see how B handles the little terror." 

"Should one of us be there when he does wake up?" Duke asks; clearly thinking about the kid possibly waking up and trying to attack them.

Tim immediately shouts out, "Not it!"

"I'll do it," Dick assures Tim, "I still need to write my report anyway. I'll let you all know when he wakes up." 

With no complaints Dick gathers his things, and goes to take a seat next to Damian while he writes up an official report of the events that occurred tonight. As he does he makes sure to look up every few minutes; he's not sure when Damian might wake up, and he wants to be ready when he does. 

After half an hour Dick was just finishing up, and he could still hear his brothers loudly talking about something. It warms his heart to think about the three of them getting along; with that in mind he takes another glance at his littlest brother. Damian is of course glaring at him with the cutest little pout.

Wait.

Damian's awake!

"Hey Damian," he makes sure to speak as gently as he can, "do you feel okay? What's the last thing you remember?" 

Now, Dick expected Damian to attack one of them at some point during this; what he didn't expect was for him to do it immediately to the first person he saw. He probably should have though.

[arachnidseyes]

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

CALLS AND CONNECTIONS

Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

A/N: Previous. Next. Fem reader. Just a short little half chapter because I wanted them to talk a little more before the next chapter 👀. wc: 910

Your blaring ringtone wakes you up. The rather uncommon sound is loud and abrupt. Groaning, you pick your head up from where it's stuffed into your pillow and squint your blurry eyes at the contact name.

“Damian😾”

Before your sleep addled mind can even begin to comprehend how strange that is, you swipe to answer and mumble a confused,

“Damian?”

His voice comes from the other end, deadpan and static.

“Yes, Constantine. It’s me.”

You can see the eye roll so clearly when he says that.

“What's wrong?”

The most likely reason you can come up with for why The Son of Batman could possibly be calling you is that there might be an end of the world scenario happening.

“Nothing’s wrong— Did you just wake up?”

You sniff, look around the tussled sheets of the white hotel bed and simply answer,

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“London.”

“It’s currently 12pm in London.”

“…Yeah?”

He scoffs and mumbles some Arabic words that sound vaguely like insults.

“Well, clearly you’re not busy but If you want me to hang up I will.”

He hears sheets shuffling and a huff come from his earpiece as you clamber into a more comfortable position.

“Wait, so why are you calling?”

He hates the scratchy tiredness of your voice, he hates that he now knows what you sound like after just waking up. He hates how stupidly intimate it feels.

He sighs to himself as he lands on another roof.

“I just wanted to… talk.”

You stare at the ceiling, convinced you’re not actually understanding what he means.

“Talk?”

He clicks his tongue harshly,

“Yes, Constantine. I believe it's called ‘catching up’.”

Huh. A moment of disbelief comes and goes, you speak into the phone.

“Ok, well… How’s it going?”

You can't help but chuckle when you ask that. This entire situation is rather chuckle-worthy.

“I'm currently on patrol. It's been rather quiet.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Unlikely, It might just mean that crime’s gotten smarter or I've gotten sloppy.”

“Right, because that's likely.”

There's a pause over the line. It's clear neither of you are used to phone calls that aren't about end of the world scenarios. After listening to the sound of his breaths as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop, you finally build up enough courage in you.

“I asked Zatanna if I could join her tour….as another act.”

He almost slips on the ledge he just jumped to. The night he patched you up was only a week ago, he was very much not expecting you to take his advice to heart.

“What did she say?”

“Well, she definitely wasn't expecting it, and I can tell she's a little… nervous but she said I could do something small to start, like an intermission between the real acts.”

He hums, stopping to pet a stray cat he passes.

“Is she making you pull rabbits out of hats and calling that an act?”

“Yes, actually. Remember when I explained demonic animal persuasion to you?”

He hums in confirmation. Of course he does, he remembers everything, especially really cool demon animal magic.

“Yeah so, obviously demons who can look like animals are much better as an act than actual animals, Since people just can’t go without animal acts, apparently.”

You both share sounds of disgust.

Another moment of silence passes, no sounds except your sheet shuffling and Robin’s breaths as he patrols the rooftops over Gotham. He breaks the silence this time.

“How long is the tour?”

“Uh, well we start in Europe and-”

“Hold on.”

He interrupts and you hear grunts, thumps, shouts and clangs from your phone speaker. You patiently wait for him to be done rounding up whatever goons he's just found, gazing at the curtain covered windows of your hotel room. You grumble at the lack of sunlight coming through the white fabric. London weather, no wonder you slept past noon.

“Continue.”

“Right so… I asked Zatanna if we'll be going to Gotham—”

He pauses while confiscating the last unconscious man's gun. Why would you ask that?

“—and she said yes, in a few months time. I mean, I guess it doesn't really matter cus you could go to any city in the world if you wanted to but y’know.”

“Are you asking me to come see you perform?”

“….Yes.”

He grips his katana tighter, suppressing a smile even though no one would see it.

“I’ll be there.”

“…Cool.”

Damian briefly thanks his blessings that you're too sleepy to come up with another stupid joke about fishnets or something.

Feeling like you’re hogging the conversation a little, you ask him about what cases he’s working on currently, how his doctor program is going, if he has any juicy batfamily drama to share.

He seems happy to do most of the talking, to your surprise. It actually might be the most you’ve ever heard him talk. You find yourself drifting off to the sound of his voice telling you about Duke’s latest romantic blunder.

He tries not to notice how your little uh-huh’s and mhm’s get quieter and less frequent. He clicks his tongue when he hears your soft sleeping breaths, even though he isn't sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Did he put you to sleep because he was boring or calming? Why the hell does he even care?

He clicks his tongue again but at himself this time.

He especially hates how long he stays on the line listening to your breaths.

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

[dcxdpdabbles]

John Constantine doesn't usually like to get involve with beings from the Infinite Realms. They are too chaotic to predict most of the time, makes it harder to trick them. But there is one contact Constantine has and that is Ember. Constantine knew Ember as a human, when he was in his punk rock band Mucous Membrane. They had some good memories together before both their lives went to shit. The only thing Ember asks in return for her help is that Constantine has to play a set with her. No one in the JL or JLD know about this until Constantine has to pull out his Ember card.

"I know someone who can help." John's voice rises over the chatter of multiple conversations, effectively silencing everyone. As one, the group of volunteer defenders- not heroes, John refuses to label this lot as heroic when most of them agree with the crazy shit the governments around the world get away with- turn to stare at him.

He smiles lazily, uncaring of the hundred pairs of eyes that run over his body. A few of the costume-wearing vigilantes grimace when they catch sight of who's spoken, but John recognizes that some of the lingering looks are appreciative, so he peens just a little.

He's a handsome one, he knows, but it's nice to be reminded.

"You know someone who can help?" Zatanna repeat though her words are edged with doubt. It would have been hurtful, but they were in the middle of an "off" of their on-and-off relationship, so it's no surprise. "Someone who could help stop a black hole from sucking in the earth?"

"It's not really a black hole, is it?" He counters, waving his hand at the screen, which is still flashing red and displays the word 'Emergency' across it. The three speesters —Barry, Wally, and Bart —were running around it, attempting to slow down the formation with their own vacuum, but they wouldn't be able to keep it up forever. "More of a portal made of dark matter that some loony scientist ripped open because his wife left him, isn't it?"

"No." Hal breathes heavily, looking utterly horrified from behind his mask. "That's not how dark matter works-"

"Yeah, so we need someone dead enough they can go in and stabilize it, but alive enough that they can use Batman's machine, yeah?" John cuts off the pilot. He's not in the mood to listen to a sky bus driver re-explain everything that Batman just said (though to be honest, John did tone him out). "I know a ghost who can help."

"A ghost," Bruce repeats, his voice steady. That's what he always liked about the detective. No matter what came out of John's mouth, the man always took it in stride and somehow managed to look in control and steady.

That made him so fit that John often fantasizes about breaking Bruce's careful control. He sends the man a flirty little grin, but Bruce doesn't so much as blink. "I thought ghosts weren't able to interact with the physical world."

"They're not usually able to." Zatanna scowls, looking upset. She crosses her arms, sending John a narrow eye and an accusatory glare. He thinks it's unwarranted since she was the one who asked for their relationship to end. He's allowed to flirt with Bruce, come on, it's Batman. "Not unless that ghost has a contact with a living or found some place so drenched in ectoplasm it may as well be on the other side."

"What kind of contract?" Clark questions. John wiggles his eyebrows back at the Kypotian suggestively and has to bite back a grin at the blush that rises on the man's cheeks.

What an innocent little farm boy.

"The sexy kind," John declares smugly, just to make Clark flush darker. It's hilarious when he succeeds. " I'm joking! Ha, no, it's more like a favor between two friends. Ember and I go way back. I knew her in life-"

"That's dangerous!" Zatanna snaps seemingly at her wits' end. "You shouldn't be messing with spirits you knew in life. They tend to get corrupted!"

"Meh, Ember has always been corrupted," John shrugs, not caring that his ex's eyes go wide with horror. "We grew up together. We were even the original members of our own band before her Pa got a new job in America, and he moved the whole family across the pond. She got bullied bad by the stupid rich kids over here until a fire took her life. Her soul came back home to jolly old England, not even an hour after her death. I found her drumming on her guitar in our old hideaway, glowing and flouting. It's actually how I found out I had magic. Anyway, Ember made a pact to always be my friend before she flew into the sunset- and I mean that literally, a natural portal opened up into the Realms. She sent postcards."

"She can help?" Bruce cuts in, obviously trying to get John back on track. At the magic user's nod, the man seems to settle, uncoiling his muscles. It's gratifying that someone on Batman's level trusts John's expertise so much. Say what you will, but Bruce never doubts his comrades' abilities. "Good. Call her."

John grins, pressing his hand against his mouth and blowing out a kiss. "Ladies, Gents and Gits, are you ready to rock!?"

A woman's voice screams back, "Yeah!" causing a few people to jump

"I can't hear you!"

"Yeah!"

"I'm Johnny Con-Job on mic and this fine piece of arse is Ember! Listen to those strings~!" John screams, mimicking a mic while a fast past air guitar riff rips through the air. The noise is coming from everywhere and nowhere, leaving the many volunteer defenders to twist and turn, trying to pinpoint its origin.

Ember burst into the scene, her flaming hair whipping around her whole body as her means of travel before shrinking back onto her head. She's playing fast, angry, and grinning like a devil.

Someone in the crowd lets out a loud scream of joy, "Oh my god, it's Ember McLain!"

John's lips twitch with amusement but he's too busy singing the familiar words that they once wrote together while hiding out from his shitty father and her shitty mother. Both were just a couple of troubled teens no one thought would amount to anything, so they had to believe in themselves and each other back then.

He remembers thinking he would one day marry this girl. Life wasn't fair to those troubled like them.

Once their song ends, Ember lets out a whoop, flouncing down to John's level and punching him in the arm. He grins at her, trying not to notice how she looks exactly the same as she did sixteen years ago when the fire took her and he aged on without her.

"You git! How's it going?!" She laughs, punching him again. Ember's hair is a healthy flame, reaching to the middle of her back, which suggests she has likely enchanted a few humans lately. He's glad. She needs all the stabilization she can get. Her eyes roam his face before snorting "You're old as shit now."

"I'm thirty-two," He scoffs mockingly offended

"Wow, twice my age...." His words trail off as a familiar loneness sinks into her expression, and he wants to kick himself. Right, they were the same age once upon a time. Her face clears up long enough for her to smirk, "I bet your knees hurt from watching other people jump."

John gasps for real this time, but he doesn't have a chance to rebut because Bruce steps up, explaining what was happening to the superstar.

Ember gives him her full attention, nodding along to the plan. She's going to help because she knows the request is coming from John when he summoned her.

"You know Ember McLain!?" Someone hisses into his ear. He turns to the person fully prepared to gloat that, yeah, he knows the rock/pop star that was sweeping the nation, only to gape at the sight of Diana-Wonder Woman for Pete's sake- a starstruck gaze.

For a moment, his tongue doesn't work as Diana grips his upper arm. "My sisters and I used to listen to her music on repeat back home. Do you suppose you can get me an autograph for them?"

John doesn't know how to say no to Wonder Woman, so he finds himself asking his childhood friend, who is preparing to go into a portal made of science, if she can sign five hundred or so cards for free. She squints at him but shrugs. "Only if you can beat up Phantom for me."

"I told you, I'm not going to fight a child, Em."

"Even though he deserves it?!"

[wonderjanga]

Billy and the Robins

Marvel has met all the Robins up until now. Like, let’s say Billy has been doing this for like eight maybe ten years. This Billy as Marvel met Dick a year before he became Nightwing, met Jason all the way through until his death, met Tim, and met Damian. He’s also been able to connect them to their new vigilante identities almost immediately. Now, Damian still is Robin and of course, Tim going from Robin to Red Robin isn’t too hard to figure out but I can see him doing this to the other two:

*Nightwing just joins the Justice League and all is looking swell so far. His first mission is with Captain Marvel and he remembers the dude being pretty nice. The mission goes well and they’re on their way back to the Watchtower.*

*Two are talking about whatever*

Marvel: *Pauses mid convo and stares at Nightwing a bit before he does a little finger snap* “Oh! That’s where I know you from! You’re Robin! Dude, it is so cool you became your own hero. The blue’s awesome.”

Nightwing: *Has a mini-heart attack* “Wha? Psshh… Dude, I’m not Robin.”

Marvel: “Uh… Yeah you are? You guys have the same” *gestures to Nightwing*

Nightwing: “The same what?”

Marvel: “You know. The same” *gestures to Nightwing again* Nightwing: “You do know that doesn’t tell me anything… right?”

or

*Zatanna, her father, and Constantine are unavailable to help with a magic artifact. This led Bruce to begrudgingly ask Billy for help. At the scene are Bruce, Billy, Damian, Cassandra, and Jason. Bruce is briefing them on something Marvel isn’t listening to as he stares at Jason trying to figure out why he’s familiar.*

Marvel: *cuts Bruce off* “Aren’t you Robin number 2?” *ignores the stares as he looks at Jason.*

*silence from literally everyone*

Marvel: “Holy moly. You’re like 6’2.” (He says as if his Marvel form isn’t like 6’11. I love freakishly tall Marvel) “You used to be so tiny!”

Red Hood: *Gets hit in the face with a flashback*

//Flashback//

(Recently adopted Jason)

Jason: *sitting on a couch in one of the Watchtower’s rec rooms eyeing a box of donuts on a coffee table.*

Marvel: *walks into rec room with the intent to steal said donuts as food for Billy. Sees Jason.* “Robin?” *Walks over.* “You look… different.”

Jason: *fumbling for words, slightly surprised a hero came up to talk to him* “Oh uh- I’m not Robin- Your Robin. The Robin that you know.”

Marvel: “Yeah, well, that’s kinda obvious. You’re all skin and bones, kid.”

*The joke was met with no laughs and a look of hurt.*

Marvel: “Not- not that I’m saying it’s a bad thing! As somebody who frequently lived on ketchup sandwiches and sugar water at your age,” (as if he isn’t still that age, and still lives like that) “trust me when I say, I’m not making fun of you.” *grabs the box of donuts and offers it to Jason* “Look, why don’t you take one of these, or maybe a couple. I saw you eying them when I walked in. I’m sorry if you got upset at what I said.” *really doesn’t want Jason to cry*

Jason: *grabs two donuts. Chocolate and strawberry* “Why?”

Marvel: “Why what?”

Jason: “Why’d you live like that at my age?” (He finds it surprising this guy, this hero, lived like that at some point.)

Marvel: *contemplates whether or not telling Jason is a good idea for like 3 seconds before he throws it out the window* “I was homeless.” *shrugs*

Jason: “Oh. Me too.” *nibbles on one of the donuts*

*After a while of awkward conversation, Marvel soon gets Jason to open up and they branch away from the topic homelessness and spiral into other topics. Jason goes back to Bruce with a smile on his little face*

*After that, and a couple more encounters between the two, Marvel was the first person Jason bee-lined too at the Watchtower. Of course, not before saying hi to Wonder Woman. Greek heroes hold a special place in his heart for some reason.*

//End of Flashback//

*Under the helmet, Jason’s face slowly reddens in embarrassment and he just facepalms, not caring that he hit the metal of his helmet as he went through memories upon memories of little him following Marvel around like a little duckling.*

[rin-may-1103]

Badger Day Au (part three)

Previous | Master Post | Next

“Soooo-” Flash started, fidgeting as Danny continued to stare off at the crumbled stone wall. He wondered if he could find that ring again, it had been buried about what, five feet down? Was it under the really pale stone or the one that looked like a witch hat?

“What exactly do you need me to do here?” he winced, shuffling from foot to foot.

Danny leaned back just enough to watch as Zatanna jumped over the other stone wall, “hey, Z!” he shouted, making the women freeze and turn to look at him.

“Watch your step, there’s an unstable magic bomb to your left.”

She blinked, then glanced to the ground with narrowed eyes when she spotted the magic rune. “Thanks,” she huffed, glaring at the offensive rune.

Danny doubted he’d ever get the memory of discovering it out of his mind; the crunch of leaves, the cut-off startled gasp as Zatanna barely noticed what she stepped on, superman turning too slow as the world erupted into flames. That had been a horrible loop, one he never wanted to repeat. Though it’s not the worst thing he’s witnessed by now, it had been early on and very traumatizing.

Danny turned back to Flash, studying the man’s disturbed face. Yep, just like the last 700 times Danny’s dragged him here. “Your job,” Danny started, turning so he could study the stone wall again, “is to use your detective skills and help z investigate the area. She’ll find the magic signature, while you look for missing evidence.”

“Oh,” Flash blinked, turning back to study Danny. “Then what are you going to do?”

Danny shrugged, floating his way over to the wall and reaching through the dirt. Aw, yep, there it was. Pulling his hand free, Danny showed Flash what he had found, “I’m going to look around for more suspiciously buried jewelry.”

He hadn’t dug around in the ground in the other place where the ritual had been held yet, so he wasn’t sure if the ring was significant or not, but he had a feeling he’d find out anyway. It’s not like anything else he’d investigated lately had given them new answers, might as well look into it. 

Speaking of answers, Zatanna should find the magic signature- right…. About….now.

“Oh, that’s just wrong,” she huffed, pinching her nose like she had just walked into a sewage plant. Flash blinked, turning away from the bush he’d been ogling, and spotted something behind Zatanna.

Danny leaned back, watching as Flash discovered the first clue to what happened here. (Danny already knew everything that was going to happen, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t important for the others to discover these things for themselves.)

“Oh, that’s not great,” Flash winced, zipping over to the bone sticking out of the dirt. Scattered underneath was a ceramic bowl full of dried blood, melted candles, and a ripped-up page covered in scribbles.

“Collect the paper,” Danny sighed, glancing down at the ring in his hand. It was silver and had dirt stuck in all the small crevices. Rubbing his thumb over the stone revealed a brilliant red shine. Hmm, he’d have to ask Sam what kind of stone it was, she’d know just by looking at it.

“I was going to?” Flash hesitated, pulling out a small evidence bag.

Danny pointed to the other side of the clearing where just barely noticeable was another pile of ripped-up paper. This one was the same scribbled mess as the one at flashes Feet, but it had a code on the left side once it was pieced back together. 

“A gift for the Bat. Ancients know how much he loves puzzles.” Danny grumbled, lifting the ring up to the sky, watching as the sun reflected off the silver. Something tugged at the back of his mind, demanding his attention. Glaring, Danny studied the clearing around him.

Flash was crouched down, collecting the paper. Zatanna was walking around with her hands glowing, reading the magic signatures saturating the ground. If Constantine was here, he’d be complaining about just how much magic was covering the place. Something about how migraine-inducing it was. The world was full of magic, but it was very unnatural for so much of it to be in one place. It was a sign that someone was doing something they weren’t supposed to. Which they already knew because well, you’re not supposed to summon the ghost king to the mortal world. It's just wrong.

Wait a fucking moment.

Glancing down with narrowed eyes, Danny studied the ring again. Silver with a red stone, two things that were known to be large magic conductors, yet the ring was completely devoid of it. That’s not right, this thing should be overflowing with the mafic backlash of the ritual, yet it's not.

What the heck???

“Hey, Zatanna?” Danny huffed, glaring at the ring. “Mind looking at this for me?”

“Sure,” Zatanna sighed, rubbing her face and making her way over. Holding out his hand, Danny watched as Zatanna examined it, froze, then examined it again. “What the fuck?” she whispered, reaching out and taking it from him.

“That’s just weird,” she huffed, twisting the ring around and studying how her magic flickered and bounced off it, not getting absorbed at all. 

“I don’t know why it’s doing that, but it’s not supposed to,” she grumbled, holding the ring back out for Danny to take. Grabbing it, Danny looked to see if anything was different. It wasn’t.

“Let’s have John look at it later, it might be important.” she offered, glancing around the clearing with narrowed eyes, “Either way, I’ve got the signature we need. Now we just need to follow it.”

“Right,” Danny sighed, turning to watch as Flash stumbled over a root. “Let’s go!” he shouted, drawing the man’s attention.

“Ok!” he shouted back.

Danny glanced back down at the ring in his hand, the red stone glowing in the sun. Maybe he should have looked into this sooner instead of just assuming it wasn’t important. Maybe then he would have already figured out why he was trapped.

Oh well, it wasn’t like he’d wasted anyone else’s time, just his.

[nanenna]

This Montage Could've Been a Beach Episode

Sleepy King AU Masterpost

Sad Danny Hour is finally receding enough I can get back to the more fun and light hearted stuff. Hope you all enjoyed the angst, there's absolutely none anywhere in this fic, I promise! ;D

-----

Diana grew tired of her team arguing in circles. “Stop, all of you. We’re getting nowhere.” She glared the gathered magic users down as they all looked to her. “Young Danny has been up on the Watchtower for several hours now, it’s highly unlikely whoever made this god egg doesn’t already know where he is. I cannot in good conscience let this boy leave without at least attempting to get the Ghost King out of him.”

Constantine tossed the earpiece Danny had used earlier at Diana, who caught it easily. “Clever bit of necromancy, that earpiece. Necromancy, luv. The Ghost King.”

“Nevertheless,” Diana said firmly, “now that we know what’s causing the block, can you work around it?”

Constantine sighed deeply, but the others paid him no mind.

“There are a few spells,” Zatanna said hesitantly.

“A few tricks to get a look, at least,” Dr. Fate agreed.

“Wonder Woman said he has blessings,” Raven said quickly. “They’re likely from trials Phantom has passed.”

“Yes,” Dr. Fate agreed. “It still wouldn’t hurt to look into them, they may be affecting how Phantom interacts with Danny.”

“Before you go,” Constantine interrupted as the group turned to head back. “The first rule of god eggs is you cannot let anyone inside know they’re inside one. The chick especially.”

“That is good to know,” Diana said with a nod.

“Make sure other two know as well.” Constantine shoved his hands in his pockets and let his shoulders slump as he spoke, as if he had no faith in that fact changing how Batman and Superman would act.

Diana could understand that attitude, it likely wouldn’t.

Diana’s communicator made a noise. She pulled it out to check it.

Superman: Danny is asking for someone named “Puhdora,” we think he means you.

Ah, now Diana truly knew how Clark felt. This boy, who doesn’t even know the danger he’s currently in, has mistaken her for someone he trusts. Well, if it will help keep him calm until the matter is resolved she will do her best to be this Puhdora person.

The group quietly filed back into the kitchenette, Zatanna, Marvel, and Fate quickly making themselves some more tea while Diana leaned down to murmur Constantine’s warning in Bruce’s ear. From the way Clark’s head was tilted he heard her too. She then moved her chair around to sit on the other side of Danny from Clark. She gently brushed some hair behind the boy’s ears.

“Pindoa,” Danny drowsily mumbled, hard to hear with his mouth pressed against a mug.

“Hello again, Danny,” Diana said gently with a smile, though her thoughts were spinning. Had he just called her Pandora? As in the titaness who guarded a chest that contained many great evils? That was incredibly concerning, if the beings who created the god egg included a titan she shuddered to think who or what else were working with her. She pulled out her communicator.

Wonder Woman: He has mistaken me for the titaness Pandora. Cpt. Marvel: Well that’s not ominous Dr. Fate: At least we now know the general power level of the beings who made this god egg. Zatanna: What is a titan doing looking after the Ghost King? Constantine: Oh great a bunch of angry bloody titans

Diana was distracted as Clark pushed a tablet in front of her. As she took the device she glanced over to see Bruce tapping away at his wrist computer. How kind of the man. And the device was already open to Phantom’s file, truly Bruce was very thoughtful. Diana angled the tablet so Danny wouldn’t be able to read the screen and started reading over everything Bruce had collected so far.

The pressure in the room began building again. She could feel the energies swirling around them as the magic users began casting their spells once more. She glanced over at Danny from the corner of her eye, he was yawning again. Ah, so he felt it too. As should be expected, even if they weren’t entirely sure how aware Phantom was of the situation.

The most important thing right now was to find out how entwined the two were after that cult’s summoning ritual. Constantine had stated that the boy had died and the Ghost King was the only thing keeping him alive, that likely his mind would be ripped asunder by the tyrant when he woke. Would Phantom be the same? Would the shredding happen on its own or was it a choice? As Diana skimmed through the information Bruce had gathered on the new king she couldn’t help thinking surely if it were a choice Phantom would do all in his power to protect young Danny. Time and again the young spirit had put himself in harm’s way to protect the people of Amity Park. Yes, he stumbled from time to time, everyone does. It was quite clear to Diana that this god egg wasn’t a series of trials for a tested hero, but rather a playpen for a young child.

A weight leaned against her side. Diana looked over to find Danny had switched from leaning against Clark to leaning against her. She tenderly brushed his hair from his face again and smiled down at the boy, who sighed in contentment.

If only gods didn’t view mortals as little more than play things. Phantom may be a small child in a playpen, but children were rough on their toys and mortals were so very fragile. There had miraculously been no deaths due to Phantom’s trials, she sent up a silent plea that Danny wouldn’t be the first.

The group chat, which was minimised in the corner of the screen, started moving. Diana expanded it to see what was going on.

Zatanna: I don’t think there’s anything we can do. Dr. Fate: It’s likely part of Phantom’s trials, to find a way to get out without hurting the boy. Cpt. Marvel: Assuming it’s actually part of the trials and not an accident. I doubt Phantom getting summoned is part of the god egg. Wonder Woman: Judging from the information Batman has been gathering, Phantom has a rapport with the children of Amity Park and will likely do all in his power to not harm Danny. Constantine: Sending the kid back to where the adults can keep an eye on him would be best Batman: If you’re all in agreement.

Diana glanced over to see Bruce frowning down at his wrist computer. She did not like the conclusion any more than him, but there was only so long they could risk a titan’s wrath, let alone the wrath of wherever else was working with Pandora.

Clark scooted his chair back, took a deep breath, then slapped his hands on his knees, “Well.”

Danny scrambled to chug the rest of his hot cocoa and distractedly put the mug down so he could stand with Clark. Diana couldn’t help smiling as she serenely stood to keep pace with them. Despite having rushed, Danny stifled yet another yawn and blearily shuffled after Clark as the man considerately kept his pace slow for the sleepy boy.

Diana sent out a quiet prayer he would be well.

They must have made quite the procession as their group headed for the Zeta tubes: Constantine and Raven well ahead of them, Clark, Danny, and Diana clustered together, followed shortly by Batman, Zatana, Dr. Fate, and Captain Marvel trailing after. Quite the escort for one single teenager who was basically sleep walking through the Watchtower.

“Ow!”

Diana startled and looked to the side just in time to see Danny bending down to pick up what appeared to be a boomerang, his other hand rubbing absently at the side of his head.

Danny heaved a great sigh, “Guess Jazz got imp-... uh… what?” He looked around at them, fully awake and clearly confused.

“Well, it’s a good thing we were just taking you home then, right?” Clark asked with a nervous chuckle.

Danny looked at the group of heroes around him, then down at the strangely glowing boomerang. Clark reached forward, likely to try gently encouraging Danny to continue down the hallway, towards where Constantine was staring at them in open mouthed shock.

Danny ran.

[youcalledsworld]

DP x DC prompt

The Bat family and Talia was on a mission. Ra's had captured a ghost and was using them to steal information and carry out assassinations.

Before Bruce could call in Zatanna or Constantine, Talia told him she has a contact who is more specialised in ghosts. So Bruce, Damien, Jason and Talia all went to Amity Park.

Danny wasn't expecting his ex-girlfriend (who he hasn't seen in years) knocking at his door along with her family. But he didn't mind the break up was amicable. So when she told him she needed help dealing with a ghost he was happy to help.

While he was getting the gear ready for her, her two sons Jason and Damien was standing around asking him questions (interrogating him). Of course the question of how he knew their mother came up. So he told them the truth. They were both surprised and Damien seemed to be angry at him for it. Then Jason asked why he would help her out if they hadn't seen each other for years.

It was simple really she was his favourite ex. When he saw how confused they were he told them she has that title because she was the only one of his ex to have never tried to kill him before during or after their relationship.

That got Jason wheezing on the ground laughing while Damien looked utterly perplexed.

[thevoidstaredback]

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.

So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.

Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.

Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.

At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.

Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.

The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.

The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)

Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!

Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!

"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.

Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.

"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."

"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?

"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.

"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."

"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"

Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."

"Excuses."

"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."

"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."

"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."

"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."

"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."

Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.

The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.

Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."

Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."

Storyboard Part 2

[rheitais]

Dp x Dc Prompt - Saving Graces

I mostly wrote this due to the lack of Trans Femme Danny.

__________________________________

When it came to magic the justice league had 2 people they asked. Zatanna, is the most popular option. She was kind but straight to the point. Knowledgeable and quick to answer even with her busy schedule. The other was John Constantine. They only called him if Zatanna was unavailable. He was stubborn rude and most times cryptic. He was about as helpful as a crossword puzzle. If you got ahold of him then you're either lucky or Batman.

The difference between Zatanna and Constantine was how much people knew about them. Zatanna was public, she was an actress and performer while Constantine only had rumors and speculations around him. His reputation was about as much as people knew about Constantine's private life.

On such occasions, Zatanna actually redirected the league to Constantine. She told them that despite her having her specialities, necromancy and the dead was a Constantine thing. She didn't know why or how he knew so much but he was their best option for the current problem the league was having. They were hesitant but didn't really have a choice. Constantine wasn't in the tower like usual so they had to call him.

"This better be important spooky I am kinda busy." There was a lot of screaming on his end. Batman explained their situation and Constantine couldn't help but chuckled.

"I'm not an expert, but my wife can definitely give you advice on a ghost."

Wait wife?!

[lazycats-stuff]

Batfamily x batbro male reader

Reader is a magic user (like the scarlet witch), he often uses his powers during his normal day to day life too

He’s constantly found levitating off the ground while meditating, reading his spell book and using his powers to do simple things like making his bed etc

However his powers has a side effect, his powers hurt him sometimes as every time his emotionally unstable or upset his powers can take over but the rest of the family doesn’t know cause he never told them he simply cuddled up to them

One day after a bad argument the pain was too much to hold in and he desperately needed to let go of his powers to get rid of the energy

However he couldn’t do that cause it could damage the manor and hurt the others so he tries to hold it in trying to deal with the pain

He walked into the manor and looked for the first person he could find and simply hugged them

They knew his love language was physical affection but they never knew it went so far as to stop him from having a magical melt down

He tries to explained the issue to whoever he was holding on too and they started praising him and rubbing his back trying to make him calm down till they get to an open space where he can let go

Okay, that sounds cool. And lowkey Bruce coded.

Summary: (Y/N)'s magic is complicated.

Warnings: none really, mentions of an argument.

(Y/N)'s powers are something that he was born with, since his mother shared the same powers. Unfortunately, his mother passed away and (Y/N) came to live with Bruce and the rest of the family. And since Bruce didn't know anything about magic, he called in John Constantine and Zatanna to help him navigate his magical powers. They've been doing it since he was a child and by the time he reached his teen years, he could control his powers.

But magic is not without any consequence. Sometimes, his powers can hurt physically. And his emotional stability is important here. If (Y/N) gets upset, angry or anything else that causes emotional instability, they can come out. And not in a good way. His powers could get devastating and could hurt someone. Thankfully, (Y/N) had a good remedy for it. Cuddling up to his family to calm his nerves.

He never told his family that. However, it made for a good practice to control his emotions. But sometimes emotions can overwhelm a person, no matter how hard they try to control. Bruce knew that something was going on with (Y/N)'s magic, but he choose not to dwell on it. He knew that (Y/N) had a control on it and whatnot, but still.

Bruce is not particularly well versed in magic so he allows (Y/N) to make decisions on that part. And besides, magic is fun to look at. (Y/N) more often than not can be found using his magic in everyday life. Whether it be making his bed, getting a cup of whatever from the kitchen without even getting up from the couch.

But the one thing that the entire family can agree on is the fact that when he is meditating, he levitates, a spell book near him, also levitating, is creepy beyond belief. According to the others. Bruce tried not to be freaked out whenever he saw it, but it was hard not to be. Bruce was both fascinated and kind of scared.

The rest of the boys have shared the same sentiment. It was a fascinating power that (Y/N) possessed, but scary at the same time. And of course, who could say no to cuddles that (Y/N) asked for? Not even Damian could say no to (Y/N)'s cuddles. Not even Damian, the person who despises affection, can't say no to his cuddles. Dick would await the entire day just for those cuddles.

(Y/N) loved his family to bits because of their acceptance, no matter how weird he might look when doing magic. And Bruce has a magic consultant at home, which is great. You never know when magic can pop up in Gotham City. Anything can happen in Gotham City and that was something that every single Gothamite lived by.

Anything can happen in Gotham.

(Y/N) was driving home, pissed beyond belief. His high school classes were done and he got into a bad argument with his friend. He knew that his magic would explode, sooner or later if he didn't find his family in the manor. Something has been brewing in (Y/N) from the moment his woke up. He didn't know why he was feeling that way today.

But something boiled over during the argument and his magic was just itching to get out. And he knew he should let it out. He knows he should. But that would devastate a lot of space. So, cuddles are the only option he has left at this point in time. He parked the car in record time and rushed into the manor, looking for someone who could help him.

That someone was Bruce. (Y/N) didn't expect to see him. He thought that he was at work.

" (Y/N)? You seem stressed, are you okay? " Bruce asked, worried about his son.

(Y/N) didn't say anything, simply buried his face into Bruce's chest and Bruce hugged him. Bruce squeezed back tightly, not knowing what's really going on, but (Y/N)'s love language is physical touch so Bruce didn't really find it to be odd. And besides, he likes these moments.

" Sorry dad, I just needed a hug. "

" Never apologize for needing a hug. Or any affection. Okay? " Bruce murmured softly.

" It's... More complicated than that dad. It's connected to my magic. "

Bruce frowned at that, confused as to what he could mean by that.

" What do you mean? "

" My magic is tied to my emotions. If I get any negative emotions, my magic flares up and itches to be released and it can be devastating. I can hurt people. When that happens, I look for you or my brothers to get cuddles, " (Y/N) murmurs, explaining to Bruce, who nodded in understanding.

He start rubbing (Y/N)'s back softly.

" You did good (Y/N). It can't be easy to control so much magic, but you are doing well. Just relax, breathe in and out and anger and frustration will simply roll out. Okay? "

(Y/N) nodded and Bruce simply continued his praises to his son. " Also, the manor is a space where you can let go okay? This is a safe space for you. Although, I would like to keep the manor intact, " Bruce joked and (Y/N) laughed with him.

" I know, I would like to keep this manor intact as well dad. "

" But in all seriousness, " Bruce began, still rubbing his back, " This manor is a space where you can be safe. Feel safe. Where you can do your magic freely. And if there ever is a time where you feel like your magic is itching to get out, feel free to seek us out, okay? Don't hesitate, " Bruce said as he still rubbed (Y/N)'s back.

" I know that dad, I know. "

" Just making sure kiddo. Also, John Constantine might drop by soon enough. He says he has a new spell book for you, saying you will like this one too. Now, are you hungry? " Bruce asked as he lead (Y/N) to the kitchen.

" I am. Also, why are you home so early? " (Y/N) wondered, knowing that Bruce wouldn't be home this early.

" A big meeting got cancelled, so I came home. Now, sit down. Alfred made some great Shepherd's pie. " Bruce gently sat (Y/N) down at the kitchen island.

Soon enough, his brothers came home, tired and hungry. Dick was surprised to see Bruce home early, but didn't question it, simply sitting down as well.

" Hey B, didn't think you would be home so early. "

The conversation flowed from there and slowly everyone came home. Damian, Tim and Jason all showed various stages of shock. Damian simply nodded, Jason raised his brow and Tim let out a hum as they all sat down, hungry and ready to down some food. It's no easy task feeding 5 boys.

During the conversation, (Y/N) opened up to his brothers about his emotions and connections to magic, essentially repeating what he told Bruce about his magic. Everyone understood and knew that if (Y/N) needs cuddles, they are going to listen.

They don't want their home to be devastated by magic. They like this manor, believe it or not.

[arachnidseyes]

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

BLOOD AND CHANGE

Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

A/N: Next Part. Damian stitches up a wounded Constantine. They're like 18-19, Fem reader, Alfred's alive wdym haha? w.c: 1.1k

Damian's eyes are open before the second rap on the doors to his balcony.

The katana he keeps under his bed is in his hand by the third. He stalks closer on quiet feet like the assassin he's trained to be.

Who could've possibly evaded the manor's security systems, scaled the wall to his bedroom, and all without alerting any of the vigilantes living inside.

No matter. He's Damian Wayne. He can handle anything this world can throw at him.

His hand stalls on the balcony's door handle before violently throwing it open...

And there you are, slumped on the stone railing, covered in blood, clutching your torso where the white dress shirt is dripping red.

You give him a tired grin, shooting a finger gun at him (with the hand not clutching your bloody wound)

“What's cooking, good looking?”

Damian lowers his katana and clicks his tongue,

“Constantine.”

His eyes never leave your wound, assessing just how bad the damage is. He can smell the iron from where he stands. It's been awhile since you've seen each other, you don't exactly make a habit of visiting very often.

“Are we just gonna stare longingly at each other or are you going to let me in?”

He clicks his tongue again but steps aside so you can gracefully stumble inside his room.

“I will get Pennyworth, he-”

You swiftly interrupt him,

“What, you can't do it yourself? I heard you wanted to be a doctor or something.”

He skips asking how you know that.

“That doesn't mean I'll just- ”

You interrupt him again,

“I can't heal it myself Damian, I spent all my energy just getting here so you could heal it. Letting a patient bleed out isn't a very good way to start your whole doctor thing.”

You hiss as you sit down on his too-big bed while Damian walks off to his bathroom, muttering curses in a language you understand better than he knows.

─⋅⋆⁺.

The wound looks much worse in the harsh light of the desk lamp Damian’s forcing you to hold up. You lie at the foot of his bed, brown coat discarded, buttons of your dress shirt unbuttoned up your torso, just enough for him to do his work.

He kneels at the end of the bed, emergency med kit next to him. He's still grumbling as he preps the needle while you help sanitize the bloody area.

“So the doctor thing... it's true then? I thought you liked being Robin.”

Your voice is soft, almost unsure, neither of you acknowledge it. You shiver when he smears cold topical anesthetic around the wound.

“I need to know who I am when I'm not trying to be him…or trying to not be her.”

You both let that sit heavy in the air. Direct and blunt, as he always is.

He glares at your wound while piercing the needle in and out of numb flesh. You stare distractedly at the expensive looking ceiling.

“You could try it too... I know you feel the same way about him.”

His words startle you out of your trance. You look down at him with furrowed brows, his green eyes never stray from his work. You scoff,

“Oh yeah? And do what? Be a circus magician like Zatanna? Not all of us were getting medical degree knowledge by the age of 10, Wayne.”

Did you admire Zatanna’s talents? Of course, but you're no showman. You're a demonologist, an exorcist, an occult specialist. Someone who does the dirty work that no one else can. It's unforgiving and often feels futile, but someone has to do it…Right?

Damian gently tugs the thread coming out of your flesh before cutting it.

“Zatanna does plenty good, and we both know you could do any number of things with your life that isn't this."

He gestures to your freshly stitched waist.

"You don't have to do this just because it's what you've always done, or because it's expected. You can do anything you want.”

He doesn't say this in an encouraging way. He says it like it's obvious, like he's frustrated that you haven't figured this out yet or maybe that it took him so long to figure it out himself.

The air feels thick, Damian is used to the smell of blood, but the sight and feel of yours on his fingertips is not something he'd like to get used to.

“…You just wanna see me in fishnets.”

Damian's head shoots up from where he was applying the gauze over your stitches. He scoffs scornfully when he sees your satisfied grin and presses harder than necessary on the gauze which he immediately regrets when you groan a bit too loudly.

A single solitary moment later you hear three polite knocks on Damian's ridiculously big bedroom door.

“Master Damian, are you alright?”

Alfred. How did neither of you hear him walking up to the door? Both you and Damian stare at each other, completely lost for what to do. Though he's trained for countless situations, you doubt he's ever thought of what to do if he got caught with a girl in his room. On his bed, with her shirt halfway up her torso, no less.

“I'm fine, Alfred.”

You pause a little at him calling Alfred by his first name, but he just stares at the door like he can will Alfred away with his mind. You try to lift yourself up, so you can maybe hide in the closet or something but Damian pushes you down gently by your shoulders, giving you a stern look. Right, he's not about to let all his stitch work get undone.

“Lovely, and is Miss Constantine alright?”

You both freeze. Damian's hands still on your shoulders, you look at each other with shock, fear, embarrassment and a shared understanding that you didn't hear him walk up to the door because the old butler had been there the whole time.

The minute-long silence is broken when you burst out laughing, before clutching your wound and groaning. Damian watches you with a scowl on his face, which is tinted a more reddish colour, like he'd been trying to hold his breath too long.

“I'll be fine, Alfred. Thanks for asking.”

Damian clicks his tongue once more as he packs up his med kit.

“Oh good, I will set up another chair for you at breakfast, Miss Constantine. It's been awhile since you've visited the manor, much has changed since your last visit.”

You raise an eyebrow at Damian, grin apparent, to which he rolls his eyes.

“Sure has.”

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

[writing-mlm]

Pls write dick grayson x male reader 🙌🏾🙌🏾

How can I help?

Summary: The three times you help Dick with his father issues and the one time he helps you Pairing: Dick Grayson x Male reader WC: 7.4k a/n: this went through five different plots before I landed on this one I am so sorry

He’s given his entire life to Bruce. He’s owed him as much for everything he’s put him through; taking in a rowdy, traumatized orphan and dealing with the near limitless energy he had. Then the teenage angst, he understands why Bruce kicked him out. He had to. He understands that everything he’s gotten in his life is because of Bruce. 

Bruce wasn’t… he wasn’t bad. He was doing his best with what he could, after all, infinite money didn’t come with infinite wisdom. And Bruce had given Dick his best, so really, Dick should be happy. He’s better off than some orphans, most orphans really. 

So why does he want to strangle him?

He doesn’t get it. He loves Bruce, he’s the closest thing to a father he currently has. But he can’t be around him, he can’t stand his voice, he can’t even think about him without being upset. 

He bites harder and you wince, staring at him as he bites your shoulder. You doubt he’s even aware of it, he hardly ever is. These moments are rare with Dick, usually after he visits his father and it goes wrong. It almost always goes wrong. 

The biting makes it so he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t like crying. Not because he’s a man and men don’t cry but because it makes it harder to see. To focus. His breathing gets all loud and he can’t sneak around. But with biting, none of that happens. 

You rub his back as the pressure on your shoulder builds and builds. He’s nearly breaking skin before he finally pulls away and stares at the TV, more quiet than he ever has been. 

“I’m sorry,” He mutters after the episode ended. Feeling his fingers wipe away the drying spit and then soothe the throbbing spot, you turn to look at him and shake your head. 

“Still invulnerable,” You remind him. While yes, it hurts a little, you know it’s not going to bruise. It’s not going to do anything aside from give him some sort of healthy release. He nods, still looking at the spot. You can tell his mind is running, it doesn’t take a genius to tell that much. “Dick, I’m perfectly fine.” He looks at you, eyes red and bleary before he huffs and turns his head away. He blinks and tilts his head to the ceiling while you watch. 

He doesn’t like it when you watch, it makes him feel bad. Like a burden. But you watch to make sure he doesn’t put too much pressure on his eyes when he rubs them. 

“It’s not your fault.” You promise and his breath hitches. God, he wants to believe you. So badly. “It’s not your fault.” Lips pursed and a lone tear running down the side of his cheek, Dick turns to you. “It’s not—“

“Stop.” He begs. His eyes screw shut and he shakes his head. “I know— I know it’s not, I do. But…fuck man.” Pushing himself away from you, you watch as he enters the kitchen and runs his hands through his hair. “I can’t just leave him!” He nearly shouts, convincing himself as he throws open the fridge. 

“You can.” You nod, eyes flickering to where he’s grabbing a water bottle. 

“No,” He says through a dry laugh before taking a large gulp of water. “No one leaves Bruce.” Turning to you, Dick licks his lips. “Do you know what it’s like? Trying to run from the world's greatest detectives and his mini Batman’s?” Shaking your head he shakes his back and walks over to the couch again. 

“Oracle, Red Robin, and Batman! Those three have found unicorns before. End of the rainbow pot of gold. Compared to that, I might as well have a giant sign on my head! Then he has Superman and-and Martian Manhunter. Zatanna. Constantine!” He’s nearly shouting now, hitting each finger as he rapidly lists them off. 

“Have you asked him for space?” It’s the question you’ve wanted to ask him for years now. His plan is always to up and leave, his bad thoughts are to up and leave. His good thoughts are to leave a note, and then leave. But he’s never thought about that. You know because he pauses and looks at you. 

“He wouldn’t…” Shaking his head, Dick lays his head on the armrest of the couch and brings his legs up to yours. “I’d just get the society needs Nightwing talk. He’d say I’m leaving behind innocent people who need me.” He angrily says into his water bottle. 

“You could get amnesia,” You half seriously suggest, running your fingers along his legs. He shaves pretty religiously, something about his suit needing less friction to get on and off. “Go by Ric without the K.” At that, he snorts and looks down at you. 

“I love you,” He says and you smile. 

“I love you too, dude.” Groaning, he kicks your arm and sits up. You laugh and rock into him, watching as he stares at the TV. His hair falls over his forehead nicely but he shifts it back, probably out of nervous habit. 

“I can’t leave Damian.” He quietly says, a deep frown forming on his face. “He’s already been through so much.”

“You all have.”

“But he spent eleven—“

“This isn’t the trauma Olympics, Dick. You all can be fucked up at the same time.” There’s a long pause in the apartment and you get up to take the cookies out of the oven. They’re his favorite, macadamia with raspberry chunks. 

“You know what really sucks?” He calls and doesn’t wait for a response. “We can’t even see a therapist about this! I mean, could you imagine one of us trying to see a therapist? It’s either Harley, Dinah, or some poor civilian!”

“Why not get therapy as Nightwing and then therapy as Dick?” It feels stupid, it sounds like it should be stupid but honestly, as Dick thinks about it, it might work. The biggest issue would be separating himself from Nightwing. Being a hero has been such a big part of his identity he doesn’t know how to unassociate the two. He doesn’t even know if they’re still two separate people. 

“Maybe,” He shrugs and turns back to look at you. “Can I get a cookie?” He asks, half of a frown on his face. 

“They’re hot,” You shake your head and poke one of the cookies. “Give them five minutes.” 

“You’re hot.” He grins. 

“Still not getting a cookie.”

“Aw, man.”

—

It’s the last stretch of the day. After coming back from his detective-ing and patrolling and you coming back from the WatchTower, Dick lays his head between your legs and sighs. He likes it there, he could spend hours between your legs if he could. Truthfully, you think he likes it more when it’s nonsexual. The feeling of your thighs cupping his ears, your fingers running up and down his hair mixed with being able to get up whenever he wanted was one of the times he was most relaxed. 

He sighs again, leaning his head further back as your nails drag against a spot that had been bothering him for a while now. You smile and give it extra care before exploring the rest of his hair, secretly glad he hadn’t realized he’s due for a haircut soon. The once blunt ends have dulled and you hope he doesn’t notice the starts of split ends soon. You could just repair them, right? There are shampoos for that. 

Although you wouldn’t tell him, you did enjoy his mullet phase. The long hair was pre-dating but it’s what caught your attention. He only cut it the night before your first date, which was admittedly a little heartbreaking. But the shorter hair definitely was better. It worked wonders for him, really drew attention to his eyes and his smile. 

Plus when he was fighting no one could grab his hair and bang his head into a wall as much. 

You feel along scabs and small scars that his thick hair hides, carefully dragging your nails over it. But not too harsh that it would remove the scabs. His hands flex and tense on your thigh as you do so but the way his shoulders drop lets you know to continue. He’s close to snoring at that point, the only thing missing was the white noise he had to listen to. Sure, it annoyed the shit out of you, but it wasn’t ruining your sleep. 

The room is dark with the curtains drawn and the door is closed, but there’s a video playing with the sound barely audible. It’s nothing compared to Haley snoring in the corner of the bed, though. Maybe she could be the white noise. 

“Do you think…” He says, voice soft as he tries to let go of the day's pressure and just live. But he never can, you don’t think he’s ever actually just relaxed before. “Do you think I’m a good son?” He finally asks and you see the tip of his nose move as he frowns. 

“A great son,” You hum, tucking some of his hair behind his ears. “Hell, I stopped speaking to my dad after he forgot my birthday three years in a row.” You laugh. 

“You had a reason, though,” He shakes his head. “I owe Bruce—“

“Adopting a child doesn’t mean you’re owed shit.” You tell him and carefully sit up, now staring down at him. “He chose you, he doesn’t get to hang it over your head like some sword. And you shouldn’t either, one good choice should never negate years of building resentment.” He frowns and stares at you until you sigh. “How about this? You go to family therapy, you did say Bruce is different now.”

“He is,” Dick nods, guiding your hands back to his hair. “I know he’s a good dad but sometimes he sucks.” He blinks, briefly staring at you before he closes his eyes. It’s clear he wants to continue the conversation but he can’t bring himself to say anything else. His mind is a fog and he doesn’t truly want it to clear out. He doesn’t want to face reality just yet. 

“Is this a bad time to mention that I have to shit?” He snorts and nods, eyes still closed as he gets up. He watches as you scramble out of the room, nearly waking Haley up in the process. He follows after you like a lost dog, his feet slapping against the freshly mopped floors. 

He doesn’t want to be alone, he knows it’s probably not healthy to be so attached he couldn’t fathom going twenty minutes without seeing you while you’re in the same apartment but he can’t. At least, not right now. He can’t be alone with his thoughts and if he has to deal with them, he wants to at least look at you. Touch you in some way. 

“We’re at the stage where you watch me shit?” You joke as he opens the door and sits on the edge of the tub. You don’t mind as much as you thought you would, not with Dick slowly sinking into the tub and getting rid of his shirt, and then pants. He throws his shirt at you to get your attention when you’re nose-deep in your phone. Unaware of his actions.

“Bath?” He grins, the sound of him slapping his thighs echoing in the bathroom. 

“I’ll get the bubbles,” 

The bath is nice, the water is cold against Dick’s aching muscles and you’re staring at him from the opposite end of the tub. Well, as best as you could with the lights dimmed and the occasional phone screen illuminated on the counter. He’s messing with the bubbles, creating beards and blowing them at you. Making sure you can’t move away by locking his ankles behind your back, he watches as you wipe the bubbles from your mouth. 

Spluttering them out, you grab your own handful and smush it against his face. 

You both laugh and sink further into the water. He’s down to his chin, his knees awkwardly sticking out of the water while the water is just up to your chest. 

“I think I’ll talk to Bruce about therapy,” He says as the laughter is nothing but a memory on the tiled walls. The bubbles slowly popped around him and the water gradually got warmer. He nervously drags his hand down your leg and then slowly up again until he reaches your thigh and stops. 

“I know some family therapist,” You softly tell him and he nods. “I think Dr. Sampson would be good for you two. She does virtual and in-person, flexible for the most part.” That’s good. He doesn’t think Bruce would let Brucie Wayne get seen walking with his eldest child into a therapist's office. 

“Thank you.” He says as he reaches over and pulls you onto him. Water splashes over the side of the tub and some gets in your eyes but you blink it away. “I’m so in love with you,” He says, unable to look at anything but your eyes. 

“I love you, too.” 

—

It’s a calm Sunday when your door flies open, it bangs against the wall and you’re almost sure there’s a dent where the knob hit. But it’s neither here nor there as you hear Dick shouting in Romani. Whatever’s happened, he’s beyond upset so you abandon your work and meet him on the couch. 

The shouting stops when he sees you and he frowns. It’s deep and etching in his skin. You offer him a welcoming smile as his nose turns red and his lip quivers. 

“What happened?” You ask, guiding him to the couch. With your hand on his back, you can feel that he’s shaking. Instead of replying, he shakes his head and collapses onto the couch, his head in his hands. His fingers thread through his hair, pulling and grasping randomly until he moves his hands around his torso and finally looks at you. 

“I killed Joker,” He finally says. The house is silent as you stare at him, eyes flickering across his face as his breathing goes jagged and he gags. “I…fuck,” He looks at you and you look back at his eyes. “I fucking killed him!” He repeats but this time it seems like shock has washed over him. That he’s the character in a movie, holding a household item turned murder weapon and the dead body is right in front of him. 

“What… why?” You ask, a million questions running across your mind. 

“I thought he killed Tim,” He shakes out, his eyes closed as he remembers what happened. “I thought he killed Tim, he had this illusion of Tim. He looked so much like Jay’s after he killed him. And I… I couldn’t lose another sibling to him.” You notice he’s flexing his hands and staring at them, noting the bruises on his knuckles. Parts of his skin is ripped, like he’s been licking at the bruises and scrapes to make them into cuts.

“I lost control,” He croaked out. A sob travels up his body but he forces it down and presses the balls of his hands into his eyes.

“Does Bruce know?” You ask and he shakes his head. 

“Just Tim and Babs. And you,” That’s good, heaven knows how Bruce would react. 

“Well,” You huff. “Joker was going to die anyway. He deserved it.” There’s nothing you can— want to do about it now. Sure, there’s definitely a way to bring someone back to life but… the Joker doesn’t deserve it. What you can do now, is comfort your boyfriend. 

“We don’t kill!” Dick looks at you. He’s been crying for a long while now, you can see the stains on his cheeks and the redness of his eyes. “Killing is the one thing B doesn’t stand for.” If you could, you’d tell Dick every single issue you have with Bruce. The hypocrisy in his rules, and the moral high ground he puts himself on is fake and it sucks that everyone seems to go along with it. 

But you don’t. Now isn’t the time for your personal qualms with his father. 

“One death,” You tell him, pulling him closer to you. “Is nothing compared to what Joker has done. He’s killed Jason, he’s paralyzed Babs, he’s killed over a thousand people. And Bruce doesn’t have to know. I doubt Tim or Babs is going to be telling him.” He nods at the last part. Out of everyone he knows, he knows his siblings and Barbra wouldn’t tell Bruce that. They’d hold that secret like no other. 

That calms him down. Aside from them, the only person who could possibly know was a god. And he doesn’t think he’s pissed any off as of late. There weren’t any cameras, no one was around for blocks. Not even a single church mouse knows. 

Now came the hard part. Life after killing Joker, pretending to not know where the Joker was. 

He’d just left the body there but he knows they got rid of it. And he doesn’t want to know the details, the less the better. He’s afraid he’d somehow give Bruce hints during their weekly therapy sessions.

“I’m sorry about your wall,” He mutters into your shoulder and you peer at the wall. The dent is small, just the center of the knob left an imprint so it’s nothing five minutes can’t fix. 

“I’ve put bigger dents,” You tell him with a dismissive wave. You haven’t. There’s never been a singular dent in your walls, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Can we…” He shakes his head as he thinks. “Do something tonight? Anywhere really, anything but sitting in silence.”

“Yeah,” You nod, turning your body to face him and tucking his hair behind his ear. “Anything you want, baby. How about we drive up to my sisters for the week? She’s having a family thing… I would’ve invited you either way. Besides, if we stay for a week instead of the weekend you will not get any peace and quiet.” You laugh knowing that her kids love Dick. Always asking him to do tricks and teach them. 

He agrees and promises to be ready in an hour. 

There are thankfully no hitches in your plan. Dick had already taken time off from work, your sister didn’t mind that you’d be coming to visit five days earlier than expected, and there was no traffic during your five-hour drive. The two of you didn’t talk much, instead, you took turns blasting music and listening to various podcasts. Occasionally, one of his siblings would call when they realized he’d left Gotham without prior warning but he’d tell them it’s a family thing with you. 

—

Thetford was a small town in Orange County, Vermont. Population, less than three thousand people. It was perfect for your sister who dreamed of two things and two things only. Peace from cities and a nice large farm-style home. 

In the distance, you see the roof of her home and slow down, with no one else on the road you’re not putting anyone in danger. 

“Ready?” You ask him. He licks his lips and nods. “Because I can always drive into town, ask her if she needs anything.” Again, he nods and looks at you. 

“I’m okay, really.” Dick swears. “I promise.” Nodding, you hold his hand and kiss the back of it. He smiles and squeezes your hand back.

Your brother-in-law is already in the garage, grabbing some items from his workshop, and waves you inside. With a three-car garage, there’s more than enough space for your car next to their minivan. He is basically the modern-day Romeo Vasquez. At least that’s what your sister says, you still haven’t seen any of his movies. 

He helps you with your and Dicks bags despite your insistence that you don’t need any help. But he quickly leaves the two of you in the basement when he hears one of the babies crying. 

The basement is nice; a washer and dryer under the stairs, a small living room with various game systems, a bathroom, and a bedroom. You’ve spent enough time down there that you just toss yourself into the bed while Dick stands at the doorway. 

There’s two exits, one that leads to the house and the other to the backyard. It locks from the inside so no one can enter through there but she gives you a key anyway. He sees the small windows at the tops of the walls and it reminds him that the house was built on a slope. The front of the basement is smaller than the back, which is probably why the washer and dryer are over there. 

“Should we go and check on them?” He asks, ridding himself of his sweater. Shaking your head, you roll onto your side and look at him. 

“They’ll come down soon enough,” He hums and lays down next to you. Looking over his face, your eyes naturally land on his hair where you start playing with strands. In your sister's house Haley isn’t allowed on the bed, so she’s laying right below Dick, trying her best to look at him. 

His hair sprawls across the pillow like he’s in a Studio Ghibli movie. Thankfully, he still hasn’t cut it. He watches you as you play with his hair, biting his lip and carefully touching the scraps on his hands. It’s too quiet for him, he can’t enjoy the peace with you. No matter how badly he wants to. 

“Can we see the kids?” He asks almost tightly. You nod, kissing his cheek and guide him upstairs with Haley quick on his heels. 

—

The week is filled with watching children and helping prepare for the upcoming family gathering. Dick is good with the kids and making sure things are strung up, climbing in trees and up to the gutters of the home while you’re better with nailing the umbrella into the dirt and carrying the chairs into the backyard. 

He’s thrown up a bit throughout the days, normally during stretches where no one is doing anything. He nearly strangles you as you sleep, holding you so tight you’re worried for him but it’s calmed down as the week continues on. Especially after his latest session with his father. 

He seems happier, actually sitting down and enjoying the quiet of your sister's home. The two of you go on walks at night, using the basement key to avoid waking anyone up. Every morning you wake up to clips of the two of you walking sent by your sister. 

Haley loves it, she’ll run ahead and wait for the two of you, sometimes she’ll run into large piles of leaves and then run around with sticks she finds. 

But he’s noticed how you’ve been getting as the week continues. As the realization you’re going to be seeing a lot of your family for the first time in a while dawns on you, you get more fidgety. You’ve needed to be doing something at all times. Fixing things that don’t need to be fixed, volunteering to clean the kids' rooms, the bathrooms, and even raking all of the property. It took nearly five hours, but you did it. 

Then, you’d spend hours in the bathroom. Shaving, styling your hair, brushing your teeth to the point your gums hurt. You’ve stopped letting him into the bathroom with you, locking it behind you. Late at night, when you think he’s sleeping, he hears you throwing your hair products. Once, it got so bad you had to wake your sister. He watched as you spent nearly two hours talking to her in the backyard. 

He doesn’t know what to do. He’s not used to comforting you. Sure, he comforts Damian, Tim, Jason, Kori, Cassandra, and basically everyone else he knows but never you. You’ve never needed reassurance before; always being his shoulder. It’s a little selfish to think so, but it makes him feel like a bad boyfriend. 

Even more so when he can’t pull his big boy pants up and ask you what’s bothering you. Instead, he thinks and theorizes. He is a detective, after all. 

It’s the day of the reunion when you feel him kissing your back. You never sleep with a shirt since you always end up with your back all sweaty. He trails up from your shoulder blades, carefully trailing up to your jaw, and then shifts to kiss your cheek. 

“Dick,” You hum and he hums back, his free hand rubbing circles on your hip. “It’s early.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” He reassures but drags you onto him. “Besides, it’s almost seven.” He says it like you’ve slept all day and it's past an acceptable time to be sleeping still. Blinking, you sigh through your nose and sit on his lap, slowly running your hands down his stomach. It’s more out of habit than anything else. 

“Fine.” He grins. “But you’re showering first.” He frowns but nods and you roll off of him, watching as he grabs his clothes from the dresser and heads into the bathroom. Meanwhile, you take a nap. 

A part of you knows he wanted to shower together, but you couldn’t. You wanted to shower in water so hot it’s actually dangerous and he hates anything above a light steam. Something about it being bad for his skin. 

This time, you’re woken up much more rudely. With three children shaking you, you groan and throw the blanket over your head, ignoring their shouts and calls for your name until Dick suggests taking the blanket off. 

“I’m up!” You shout, glaring at Dick as he grins. He ushers the kids out, promising to teach them how to do a barrel roll in the basement living room. Begrudgingly, you start your day and meet Dick in the kitchen. He’s in his head a little, probably because there’s a clown on the TV being called a classical joker but he’s still attentive with the kids. 

You’re helping your sister's husband with making breakfast, something light since lunch and dinner will virtually be an all-you-can-eat buffet for the family. 

Dick joins in when the kids pick a show, cleaning the dishes and staring at you for far too long as you’re watching the eggs cook. You don’t look happy, he finds the longer that he stares at you. You look distant and at one point you look at the ceiling and blink. 

He thinks and thinks, but he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what type of comfort you need. 

His hand finds yours as you finish up and your sister takes over. He brings you to the couch and just sits with you and it seems to work as you lay your head on his shoulder and hug his arm. But it doesn’t last long, as the kids finish eating and the doorbell rings. 

You remove yourself from him and look at your sister. She checks her phone and nods so you take his hand again and drag him down to the basement. 

“Who’s that?” He stupidly asks as you toss yourself onto the couch and curl up in the corner. Watching as he sits next to you, you look at the black screen. 

“My parents,” You sigh. “My father really, they’re divorced.” He nods. Sure, he’s met your sister a bunch and some cousins but never your parents. He knows the names of aunts and uncles, gossip about family members he’s never met and plenty of birthday wishes from them, but he doesn’t know them. 

“Oh,” He blinks. And you nod. “Are they…?”

“Powers? No,” Rolling to your side, you stare at him. “They don’t know either.” He nods again. “I’m sorry… did you want to meet my dad?” 

“We’ll meet later,” He dismisses. 

Later comes two hours after your father arrives. Your mother and some other family arrive at the same time and you’re forced by self peer pressure to make an appearance. With them all in the backyard and you can see around twenty people have arrived and the dread creeps back in. You don’t know why but you feel like you might throw up so you rush into the bathroom. 

He heads out first, you’re still in the bathroom but you don’t tell him to wait so he goes. He sees your sister and goes to her side, she’s talking to everyone who’s there. They all decided to sit at the same table so it made greeting them much easier. 

“This a friend?” Your grandfather asks, eyeing Dick up and down. 

“(Y/n) roommate,” Your father answers through a grit. He doesn’t know if he should correct him or not, if it would ruin the whole thing so he just smiles and introduces himself. He uses Richard for them, he remembers that they don’t like curse words from anyone not considered an adult. So anyone below forty. 

You enter the backyard sometime later and immediately find Dick. He’s at the table with your family, chatting with your aunts. It grosses you out for a moment, seeing the way they stare at him but you push it down and walk up from behind him. It’s almost on purpose how you ignore your father and stand behind Dick, messing with his hair as he talks. 

He pulls up the chair next to him and you sit, greeting your family. 

Everyone talks while Dick listens, the conversation moving to what you’ve been up to. You don’t post on Facebook so they have next to no information on how you’ve been doing, so you fill them in on your jobs and stuff until the other guests arrive. 

Soon enough, everyone is there and the party is in full swing. Music plays and food is being served. Kids run around the backyard and play in the pool but you’re sitting around some of your cousins and their parents. 

They’re talking about random things, mostly. Some of your cousins are already married, showing off their spouses and rings with subtle jabs at their significant others with their issues. A ‘can’t clean up after themselves’ or a ‘doesn’t know what a diaper is’ is thrown around a couple of times. One of them is pregnant with twins and another is talking about their child going to college soon. 

You feel like the odd one out. Although you’ve never put a timeline on your relationship, nor have any real desire for children or marriage; it would have been nice to have some leg in their conversation. Instead, you give everyone their congrats and continue to drink. 

The conversation moves into more conversations you can’t relate to and you find yourself hungry, quietly asking Dick if he wants to grab something to eat. He agrees and the two of you head over to the food table and pile some stuff on. 

“What’s this?” He asks, pointing his fork at the chitlins in a smaller bowl. 

“Nasty is what it is,” You quietly laugh. “Pig intestines.” He nods at the answer and moves along. Your plate is done, stacked up to a point that might be unsafe with a fresh can of soda in your other hand. 

“Are you okay?” He finally asks as he’s piling collard greens onto his plate. 

“I’m fine,” You nod. “Wish there was better music but I’m fine.” 

“No,” He shakes his head and looks at you. “Are you okay? Is there something I can help you with? You were jumping to leave the group and you’re drinking a beer.” 

“I’m fine,” You nod again. “Just normal family things… I swear.” He sighs and you sigh back. “Truthfully, I hate being around my dad. And I feel weird being here, I can’t relate to them.” 

“Because of us?” He asks and you laugh, quickly kissing him. He leans in for a deeper one but you push him back and he frowns, eyes on your lips. 

“Because my job is going to space and saving aliens and their jobs are school teachers and office jobs. And I can’t relate to changing diapers or arguing with my wife— well, boyfriend.” 

“Oh,” He turns back to adding food to his plate. “Well, you can say you’re a baker. That’s a normal job that you kind of have.” 

“True,” Looking over the yard, you see nearly everyone is staring at you. They look away quickly and you clear your throat, waiting for Dick to finish up before heading back to your group. 

“Uncle Richie,” Mickey, your sister's oldest child, says as he walks over with a popsicle stick and most of it smeared on his white shirt. God, if the place hadn’t been silent before, it’s silent now. You’re aware of the stares your way, even though Mickey is oblivious to most of it. 

“Yeah, Mick?” He greets, ruffling Mickey’s hair. 

“Did you make Uncle (Y/n) gay?” He asks with his head tilted while you snort into your drink. 

“Did I… what?” Repeating the question, Dick looks at you with red ears and help me eyes. 

“I been gay, Mick.” You tell him. “Why?” Mickey shrugs and bites the popsicle. 

“Grandpa said not to tell you he said that Uncle Richie made you gay.” Your cousins around you chuckle and you have to bite your lip. 

It’s not surprising. The man who forgot your birthday because he already had five kids before you didn’t know much about your life. He never really wanted another kid, he dotted on your older siblings and gave them everything they ever wanted. You were more of an afterthought, the kid shoved into the attic because that was the only space available. The kid who found a strange monster in the dark attic that gave him magical powers and became even stranger to his father.

“I won’t tell him,” You swear and Mickey nods before running away. 

“He told your family were roommates,” Dick finally admits. “I didn’t know what to say so I just… didn’t say anything.” 

“It’s fine,” You shrug. It’s not fine, but you don’t want to dwell on your issues. Today isn’t about you, this trip isn’t about you. You should try and enjoy yourself.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Your uncle asks, pointing his beer at Dick. “We should’ve been chewing him out! Not sharing stories!” The others agree and you apologize with a smile. 

“I thought you guys knew,” You shrug. 

“Well,” Your grandmother says from behind you and you jump. “Tell us about your boy toy.” She nods her chin in Dick’s direction and he laughs. 

It doesn’t take long for the adults to gather around you and basically shove you and Dick into each other. You’re a bit embarrassed at the attention, choosing to shove your mouth with food while everyone asks their questions. 

Your father is notably absent, he’s off walking around with a cigarette in his mouth. He doesn’t do gay stuff, you think. He tends to avoid it at all costs. Your mother isn’t there either, but she tends to avoid you so it’s not shocking.

“You said your name is Richard?” Your grandfather asks and Dick nods. “How long y’all been dating?” 

“Couple years,” You answer. 

“Long enough for a ring?” One of your aunts asks, eyes raised at Dick. You look at him too, sure this isn’t a great time to finally talk about that but, hey, why not. 

“Definitely,” He nods. There are a couple of others and haha from them. 

The conversations continue and he watches as you’re more relaxed now. The beer is gone, taken over by the ants who drown in it. You’re happily talking, catching up, and showing pictures. He stares at you so long, so hard, that the others notice and point it out. They call him smitten, and consider you lucky that you’ve found someone who seems to worship the ground you stand on. 

But in truth, Dick doesn’t think he does enough. He thinks back to the times you’ve dropped everything for him, how you’ve learned him inside and out, defended his feelings about his father, and he wishes he could’ve been a fraction of that boyfriend to you. 

He loves you, a whole lot. But he knows he doesn’t really show it. Not as much as he’d like to, anyway. 

He kisses the top of your head and you stare at him, confused. He just smiles and leans close to you, resting his head on yours. 

“Can he fight?” One of your sister's husbands asks and you laugh. He’s been in the family for as long as you’ve been alive, you used to have a crush on him growing up. 

“Joel is a boxer,” You explain to Dick. “He likes to fight the family's boyfriends.”

“A test?” He asks and you give a noncommittal nod. “Okay.” He agrees and Joel looks at you, none of the boyfriends have seemed excited about it before. You just hold your hands up. “I mean,” Dick starts as he stands up. “It’s only fair, Damian tried to stab you when he found out.” He did stab you, but your skin just ended up breaking the blade so he called a truce until he could find something that harms you. It was a long day when he found out it was copper. 

“Make space,” Joel makes a motion at everyone to push back and everyone scoots back while Dick stretches. 

“Should I take my shirt off?” He asks, plucking at his white shirt. 

“Please do,” You grin and he winks, taking it off in one motion. You chuckle, giddy as his back muscles flex while he watches Joel take his shirt off. Dick twists, seeing if his belt is too tight and takes that off too. 

“If y’all break up—“ Your cousin whispers to you and you smack her arm. “Just saying.”

“Should I watch your face?” Joel teases. “Pretty boy, ain’t you?”

“I’ve been told,” Dick shrugs. “But I doubt you could land a hit on it.” Again, your family eggs the situation on and you watch as they fight. It’s mostly playful, until Joel pins Dick down and he looks at you. He doesn’t want to hurt Joel, he’s almost fifty but Joel is a professional and definitely has had worse than Dick’s play fighting. You nod and watch as he wraps his legs around Joel’s body, slamming him to the ground in less than a second. 

“Did I mention I’m an acrobat?” He asks once he’s on top. 

“And flexible?” Your cousin whispers again. You chuckle and look at him, you’ve always liked watching him fight. The way he and his family fight tends to look nice. You’ve never seen a better-looking fight than when they fight each other. 

But god, without a shirt it’s so much better. A little too good, you quickly find out. Taking one last sip of your drink, you excuse yourself and head back to the basement but Dick stops you at the door. 

“Did I go too far?” He whispers, holding you close. “I tried holding back.” He adds, kissing your neck.

“No,” You clear your throat. “I just uh… got excited?” He peers over your shoulder and laughs, watching as you open the basement door and flick him off. 

“I can help,” He offers, following after you. 

“And have my family know we fucked? No!” Closing the bedroom door, you grab the box of tissues and lotion before heading into the bathroom. 

“Lotion and tissues is so middle school,” He calls after you. 

“Fuck off!” You call back. “Stupid ass— why’d you take your shirt off?” You groan. 

“It’s my fault?” He laughs. 

“Yes, clearly!” You shout back. He snickers and listens as you finish and wash your hands. “Not a word about this,” You tell him as you exit the bathroom, avoiding looking at him. 

“Damn,” Joel laughs as Dick joins the group again. “You’re fast.”

“Pretty slow to me,” You cough and Dick looks at you, hands on his hips. You stare back at him, daring him to make a comment.

“Slow?” Joel asks. “Let’s see you do better. You know he couldn't carry a gallon of milk until he was fourteen?” He asks Dick.

“I was twelve,” You angrily correct and stand in front of Dick. “Take your seat, man. Telling him my business.” Joel raises his arms and takes your seat.

“Watch the face,” Dick tells you. “My boy likes me pretty,” He winks. 

“I sure do.” 

Your family watches as you fight, each punch looking more real than the last until you swipe his legs from under him and pin him. It’s a low mount, so as he’s blocking a punch, he bucks his hips and you go forward until you plant your hands on either side of his head and stop your fall. 

“Always the low mounts,” He shakes his head as you’re laughing. “You gotta go high, baby.” 

It’s decided amongst the group that it’s a tie and you sit on the arm of his chair as the night continues. At some point during the fight, your father had joined back and sat weirdly in the middle. The kids have calmed down and dragged their chairs to the odd spots between the adults or gone to sleep inside the house. 

Eventually, you go inside the house to grab some more ice for the coolers and see your mother exiting the bathroom. She hasn’t really spoken to you, she hasn’t said much to you your entire life. You think she feels guilty about letting your father treat you like that, or guilty for even bringing you into that environment. But you don’t care, if she puts the effort you put the effort back. 

You don’t hate her, despite what she may think. You think she’s a little sad, pitiful almost. And that’s honestly so much worse than hating her. 

“Hey,” She smiles at you, rubbing her arms. “How’ve you been?” 

“Good,” You nod. “You?” She nods and sighs. There’s not much to say. She has some new boyfriend who cares about her, some job she sort of likes, and you can’t talk about your life. 

“Richard seems nice,” She says and you smile. It makes her smile more. A real smile. 

“He’s amazing,” You tell her. Hauling the ice bag over your shoulder, you leave the awkward conversation and dump the ice into the water cooler in the middle of the conversation circle.

Your seat was still taken by Joel, so you’re pulled onto Dick’s lap. He’s a bit chattier than usual, but the conversations are ones he enjoys so you aren’t surprised. Looking around, you see your father staring at you. He’s finally looking at you with something other than disinterested— disgust. 

He’s the only one in the family who feels that way, which is odd. He didn’t grow up hating gay people, maybe he just knew you were gay and hated you so by extension— gay people too. Anything that reminded him of you became tainted and for whatever reason, you’ll never know the real reason why. 

You stare back, daring him to say something. Twenty-odd years, nearly thirty of building resentment and you’ve never acted on it. Never spoke on it. Never once have you told anyone the depth of your hatred for him. Dick knows the surface, he knows the kid version of why poor (Y/n) doesn’t speak to his father anymore. 

The birthdays were inconsequential compared to everything else. 

Your father blinks, his eyes flickering to Dick before they look him up and down. Whatever he’s thinking, whatever is running through his mind is wrong. He can’t fight Dick. He’s not smarter. He’s not richer. He’s not taller. He’s not more built. He’s not better. He’ll never reach the level that Dick has. In any matter. 

He looks back at you, eyes boring into your soul. The glare is nothing, you’ve stared at Thanatos, Darkseid, and world crushers before. Comparatively, he’s the dirt under your boots. 

“Am I a cancer or taurus?” Dick whispers and you look at him, confused. “Your cousin is asking everyone their signs.” He explains. 

“You’re a Pisces,” You correct and he thanks you, laughing at his forgetfulness. Nodding, you lay your head on his chest and let the chatter around you become your own white noise. 

Meanwhile, Dick smiles down at you before staring at your father with a glare. He flexes his hands and your father’s eyes dip down to his knuckles. Dick can tell he sees the bruises and the cuts even if they’re beginning to fade away. Your father gulps and looks away, completely turning his body away from the two of you and Dick returns to his conversation like nothing happened. 

And that’s what he wanted. 

[wonderjanga]

the justice league are confused by billys family tree since THEY count the wizard and his fam while BILLY only counts his own fam + tawny, leadin to very unfortunate implications

Marvel: “The wizard isn’t my family?

Flash: “Wha? But isn’t he like, your dad?”

Marvel: “No— er, well technically.”

Supes: “Then what happened?”

Marvel: “Nothing.” *remembering how the Wizard straight up died*

See, while Billy was remembering that, he got this far off look of almost PTSD and that made the JL think something absolutely fucking horrible happened because he genuinely looked traumatised.

So they set out on a mission to find out what happened and see if maybe they can get the 2 to reconnect.

Wondy: “We have to find out what happened.”

Supes: “You’re right… so what do we know so far?”

Flash: “Nothing.”

Supes: “Is there anything that can suggest that we don’t know nothing…?”

Flash: “Well, whatever it was that happened was bad. Did you see how haunted he looked?”

GL: “Yeah. Yeah, so we know it was really bad. Is there any other way to find out what happened?”

Supes: “Maybe we could contact the wizard?”

Flash: “That’s a great idea! But uhm… how do you contact a wizard?”

They went to John Constantine then Zatanna then Dr Fate, and they all gave them nothing. Mostly because they didn’t know Shazam was the wizard who gave Captain Marvel his magic. They knew of Shazam, but they didn’t know they were the same person.

So, asking the magical people they knew was a bust. It seemed like their pipe dream of helping Marvel was for nought. That was until Marvel told them that he was gonna have to miss a meeting because he was fighting Black Adam.

Black Adam.

Gosh, why didn’t they think of it sooner? Him and Cap are brothers, aren’t they?

Black Adam: *flying back to Kahndaq after he got beaten*

JL: *intercept him*

Black Adam: “The Justice League… what do you want? I already told you I have no business with you, just Captain Marvel.”

Supes: “We know that. Captain Marvel is the reason we’re here actually.”

Black Adam: “He told you to kick me while I’m down?”

Supes: “What- No! We just have some personal concerns about him.”

Black Adam: “…What?”

Supes: “Did your guys’ dad ever do anything to you?”

Black Adam: “Excuse me?”

Supes: “Like anything traumatizing or…?”

Black Adam gave them the evil eye after giving them a confused stare.

Black Adam: “I’m leaving now.” *goes to continue flying back to Kahndaq*

Supes: “Wait!”

[thewitchblue]

"I told you not to touch that."

You had warned a very curious Tim repeatedly. This one wasn't anything harmful. You simply didn't want him touching your potions. It was a very annoying potion to make.

You had left it boiling on a burner while you got a snack, but Tim shut off the burner to touch your half-baked potion. You had no idea how long he's had it off the burner, but it wasn't boiling anymore.

"What does it do?"

He didn't have the guts to do anything but hold the boiling hot beaker. At least, not in front of you. He felt like he was a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"It was SUPPOSED to be a present for Jason, jackass. Now it's ruined."

You aggressively took the breaker from Tim and borderline slammed it down on your windowsill. You stormed over to your burner and turned it on again. Maybe you can salvage it. It had stopped boiling because Tim was too curious for his own good.

"Oh."

Tim looked embarrassed. You didn't bother to tell him it was liquid weed, so Jason could stop stinking up the manor when he smokes.

You were sick of getting accidentally drugged because Jason left brownies out without a "do not eat" sign. You think Jason secretly likes drugging people, but there was an unspoken agreement: shut up and leave the drugged person alone.

You were hoping this potion would get him to go to you instead of some shady drug dealer, but Tim doesn't need to know any of this. This is between you and Jason.

"Do me a favour and never touch my stuff. My next potion won't be so friendly."

You grumbled. You were the family witch. Yes, the stereotypical potions and general magic. You learned from Constantine and Zatanna how to use spells, but potions are where you shine.

You are called The Alchemist at night and are feared mainly due to how prepared you are. You had a potion for anything and everything.

The villains actively avoid you as a result of your preparation. You're seriously more prepared and paranoid than Batman in a lot of cases.

Scarecrow is the only one salty enough to go after you. He wanted you as an apprentice, but he's not getting anywhere by kidnapping you on the occasion. Come on, just give him one potion that he can replicate if he can't have you on his side!

Joker found you boring, Bane doesn't want to tango when you take away his muscles with a potion, Ra cares more about physical combat, and the list goes on. It's ridiculous, truly.

You were actually quite close to Poison Ivy, however, and she supplies you with various plants for you to use. You even send her photos to update her on how the plant is blooming with a thank you text (yes, you have her number, score!)

Being a Wayne helps with the potions as well. You can get you an endless supply of various metals, chemicals, and powders to work with alongside the plants. You often question if you are on a government list somewhere. It doesn't look good to order 15 kilograms of gunpowder and potassium nitrate.

The family doesn't know any of this, but then again, they don't know much about what you do. They rarely ask questions about your potions except nosy Tim, who refuses to leave your room until he knows more about whatever potion you are making at the time.

"I was curious!"

He tried to defend himself, which failed as you retorted,

"And you could have had your finger dissolved if you touched it! For the brains of the family, you really are stupid."

Does he have no sense of self-preservation? Why on earth would he touch a mysterious liquid? Survival of the fittest indeed.

Tim scoffed. How else is he supposed to find out more information if he knows nothing about the process? You had all your potions memorised! No recipe book, no paper trail, you even have a witch/magic users pack between Zatanna and Constantine, so they won't tell the family anything. He can't even identify all the plants you use so he could test them.

"You're lucky I make weapons for you guys. Some of this stuff takes weeks! I have 9 of you guys running around, using MY supply because you guys don't use your potions wisely. What if I needed the paralysing potion for Bane, but uh-oh, you stole it from me, so I can't do anything."

Tim had no excuse. He's, admittedly, stolen more than a handful of potions to reload his weapons, and he's not the only one. He tried to smooth over your irritation. In a nervous tone, he said,

"I'm sorry. I would be surprised if you didn't notice the missing potions, though."

Damn right, you'd notice it. What kind of alchemist would you be if you didn't notice your missing stash and resupply? Granted, you also have the power of bullshit spells that you learned from John and Zatanna, so you aren't entirely helpless, but it's annoying reaching for an imaginary potion on patrol and needing to trudge all the way home just to restock.

"I think you need to keep your hands to yourself. I might have to redo this potion now. Please tell me you didn't touch the potion itself."

You wouldn't know how to handle a high Tim Drake. You tried to keep your eyes on him while putting your potion back on the burner. Is the weed in his bloodstream, or are you safe to continue your drug cooking?

He gave an awkward smile. He may or may not have smelled the potion. It smelled like a freshly mowed lawn, and the tiny sip he took tasted like an apple. When all you got was silence, you groaned and said in disbelief,

"Oh, fuck, of course you did."

Just your luck. The drug will hit Tim any second now. You ran a stressed hand through your hair before turning to him and saying sternly,

"You are going to sleep on my bed and let the potion run its course. Do. Not. Leave. This. Room. Got it?"

Tim looked confused, but what does he know about magical potions? If you say let it work through him, he'll follow instructions. He sat on your bed and then it hit him.

"Woah, what the hell did you do to me? Were you trying to lace Jason with something?"

You frowned and physically pushed him onto the bed. You quickly swaddled him like a baby in a sea of blankets.

He can not leave this room. Bruce would murder you. You were supposed to be the good one. The only one who caused no problems (to their knowledge).

"Tim, look at me."

Tim did not, in fact, look at you. He was distracted by all the plants you have in your room. Did someone drop off more plants in the time he's last been in here?

"Did you get more plants?"

You huffed. You didn't. They have only grown since he's been snooping in your room. You tried to get his attention by snapping your fingers and calling his name,

"Tim?"

When he continued to look around with rapidly reddening eyes, you squished his face in your hand and forcefully pushed his face until it faced you.

"Tim, you are going to sleep. I'm going to play some music for you and we are going to forget all about this when you feel better."

You can make a potion to erase recent memories. Tim can't know you are making drugs in your room. Nobody can know except Jason.

You decided to turn on some calming music in hopes he would drift off, which seemed to be working as his eyes drooped, and he smiled at you like he knew something you didn't. He was lost in his thoughts, clearly.

You wondered what was going on in that big brain of his. It didn't matter. He can blaze in blissful peace while you deal with his mess.

You kept the music quiet and soft like he was at a spa. You hoped the combined warmth of the blankets with the soft music would work faster.

With a sigh, you stood up from your position at his bedside. This is not good. Tim needs to learn when to leave your stuff alone. What if you boiled his blood or poisoned him? It's best to leave the witchcraft to the witch.

You watched him like a hawk. His thoughts seemed to be slowed and sluggish. You supposed you can bottle your potion after all. Should you put a dropper on it? Normally, your potions soak through the skin and clothes, but you were extremely careful with this one.

You gave his forehead a small kiss once he fell asleep. You went to your bottles while shaking your head in disapproval. You were very happy with the results of the potion, not so much with the tester. You would hate to think about what could have happened if you didn't swaddle him. Would he be walking around high and babbling about funny potions? Probably. He was already hallucinating pleasantly by the time he passed out.

You were so lucky that Tim didn't get the potentially dangerous symptoms. You can handle a mellowed out Tim, but not if he was going through psychosis.

After successfully bottling and hiding the potion, you pulled out one of your memory potions.

You felt bad drugging him then making him forget about it, but you can't have him telling anybody, whether accidentally or purposefully.

You know you could just tell Bruce that Tim touched a memory potion on your burner, and he'd believe you, but why draw in the eyes of Batman? He would want to know about all future potion making.

You frowned as you put one drop on his forehead and watched it sink in. He won't remember any of this.

You were a bit overprepared, but you were Batman and Constantine trained. Of course you'd have some weaselly way out of accidentally drugging someone.

Oh, John would be so proud of you.