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#Jazz thinks Jason is sweet
dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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Congratulations! It's Triplets. Part 3
@unadulteratedsoulsweets said: In Congratulations! It's triplets! As much the entire thing is so wholesome I wanna see some bit of angst. Imagine dis the entire family is out in public.Includes the Batfam, Jazz and the triplets for a huge family bonding activity. Some random person( a karen) commented on how Jazz is a teen mother, an irresponsible person, a whore... Etc (you know the usual comments of being a mother too young) and the Batfam reaches the conclusion that the Pit Rage transfers onto the kids as two of the triplets have already green glowing eyes with rage filling it by the second and ready to tackle/punch the person who made the comment but the last of the triplets have their other "siblings" by their collar but despite holding the two back they too have their eyes switching from blue to eery toxic green and was one second to join them to murder whomever bad mouthed Jazz
It's not that Jason didn't think that the Pit would only have repercussions in his life. He just always assumed it would only be his life.
He never considered the possibility that it would affect his offspring in any way. (Besides having a father that was completely mad in Pit Rage)
Maybe it was a pipe dream to think that or maybe it was just having hope that his messed up second life had already been hard enough so the universe was going to give him a break on this one.
The three small children currently growling at a reporter, eyes flashing in and out of green, told him that wasn't the case.
It had started off as a fun little day out. Jazz and the kids mainly kept to themselves in Wayne Manor. Bruce had housed them in the west Annex, a place usually only used when guests of high importance would stay in the Manor's history.
It came complete with its own kitchen, bathroom, sitting room, seven bedrooms, and three bathrooms. It even had its own entrance that usually stayed out of sight of the main gate- a compelling feature for Jazz, who didn't want her kids in the limelight until everything legal was settled.
The distance between the two buildings was one acre, giving the family of four the privacy they needed and keeping them close for Jason to get to know.
As far as Jason knew, Jazz had not revealed the father of her children to anyone.
As far as the world knew, Jazz had recently moved to temporary housing until her insurance could help her rebuild her house or, if she was at a total loss, find new housing.
Thankfully, no one thought it strange as they weren't the only ones displaced. Poison Ivy's latest Save the Earth stunt targeted overpopulated neighborhoods guilty of destroying the land to build upon (in her own words).
She returned the favor and broke down the buildings to give back to the Green. Never mind the people inside the buildings or the livelihoods she destroyed in progress.
Ivy had gone through five streets before the Bats stopped her and returned her to Arkham Asylum.
It's been a week since the incident. Jason hasn't seen much of his kids, not for the lack of trying, but it was hard to fit their schedules. The three were in school most of the day, and when they got out, Jason usually had to run to prepare his "nightly" job.
He couldn't just slack off- doing so would mean those scum bags that didn't directly work for Red Hood would think that they could get away with breaking his rules.
He had slowly been dividing his responsibilities among his men- drug dealing, weapon dealing, illegal car races, prostitution, and protecting kids and street workers- so that he could have one night off without worrying.
That didn't mean he didn't see his kids at all. Jason usually had two hours a day with them, where he tried his best to connect to his kids, but the triplets seemed weary of him.
He could tell they didn't feel comfortable with him invading their space, so he tried to stay outside the annex. As someone who worked a lot with street kids, he knew never to break the sense of safety their hiding holes were to them.
Instead, he decided to meet his children in the open space between the Annex and the Manor.
The four-five with Jazz casually reading on the Annex floating balcony. Jason pretended not to notice she was doing so to keep an eye on her kids- would sit down at the garden table to have an after-school snack, enjoying the multiple rose bushes nearly as tall as him that Alfred cared for.
It was always one of Jason's favorite Wayne gardens because it often made him think of magical castles with giant mazes and lovely scattered flowers.
He noticed that his eldest- Dan- might have felt the same, given how the boy would sometimes spread his arms and run through the rose bushes pathways. He even picks up sticks and plays knights against invisible enemies.
(Jason pretended he was a knight in these gardens when Bruce first took him in.)
Danny, his second, seems more interested in lying underneath the rose bushes and reading about the stars. If Gotham had clearer skies, he think his boy would be a cat napping in the sunlight and sitting around at night to glance at the starlights.
His daughter seemed even more adventurous than her brothers. She often would test Jazz's patience because she wandered away from the Annex garden to explore the others. Jason had seen her climb statues and trees to get a better viewpoint, marking whatever she saw on a little map.
He got a look at her map and felt his heart swell at the childish little drawings- Damian's painting corner in the east Garden was now "Artist Alley", the south garden had a dragon fountain so Dani had decided it was "Dragon Keep" and she had found the north floating balcony where Bruce liked to go practice his not so secret love of singing.
Dani had marked her map as "Siren's Side" with a cute little drawing of Bruce singing.
The more he learned about his three kids, the more Jason loved them.
Jazz wasn't kidding when she said she didn't mind him in their lives- she was just worried that he would try to take them, and with his money and connections, she wouldn't be able to stop him. Her worry bled into the three children, and with intelligent eyes that belied their five years of age, they would watch him with guarded caution.
The moment they would finish their snack, the three would make excuses to run off and do their own thing. Jazz would continue reading, but Jason wouldn't be a Bat if he didn't see the way she relaxed whenever the kids left the table.
It was rough....to want to be accepted by them but also understanding why a random man wanting a family connection would be difficult to establish.
That's why Jazz's suggestion that they all visit the zoo had been such a shock. She gave Jason a strained smile, but her eyes were soft. For a moment, Jason felt his heart skip a beat. "It would be nice for the kids to see the zoo with their...dad."
The five had headed to the zoo- with Bruce and the rest following behind in disguises because they are all nosy assholes. He had gotten so used to the clicking of Tim's camera- as his brother was over-excited to capture his nephews' and niece's first zoo outing- that he hadn't realized a second camera was following them.
They had just finished watching the penguins swim when Danny tugged on the leg of his pants. "Mr. Dad, sir. Can I tell you something?"
Jason's heart jumped. Is Danny starting to like him? Sure, he put Mr and Sir, but he called him Dad! Grining widely he kneed down to get to his level.
"What up, bud?"
Danny leaned in to whisper in his ear. "There is a man taking pictures of me in the bushes."
Usually, Jason would have told him something like, "Tim is weird, but he's harmless." However, he knew for a fact Tim was on the roof of the Penguin exhibit and that meant some random man was taking pictures of his kid.
Green bleeds into his vision slowly, and Danny jerks back, surprised by the sight. "Go with your mother-"
"Pervert in the bushes!" Dan's voice cuts Jason off. They both turn to the little five-year-old throwing stones into the surrounding bushes and a man stumbling out of them with a shout. "Pervert in the bushes"
Danny facepalms, which is not the reaction his son should have. How in the world did Dan even know the word pervert?
"Dan! What on earth are you doing!?" Jazz screams alarmed. She raced back, a tray with four ice cream cones in her hands, and Dani, not far behind, also carrying her own cone. The girls had gone to get some frozen treats for everyone not too long ago.
The man turns to her with a very familiar predatory glint in his eye. Shit, Jason knows who he is. He is a paparazzi and one of his kids called him dad in front of the stranger.
The man takes Jazz's picture, momentarily blinding her with the flash, before firing questions and taking more pictures of her reaction to each one, "Miss, are you the baby momma of Bruce Wayne? Or one of his many kids? How did it feel to be a mother so young? Were your intentions to get pregnant to have access to the Wayne Will? How much money did the Wyanes pay you for a night?"
What?
Jazz's eyes go wide, her face drained of blood, and she looks frozen in fear. "I don't-why would- I'm not!"
"Not a whore or not a gold digger?"
"Neither!" Her voice wabbles like she's about to break into tears.
Jason sees green. He is about to beat the disgusting pig to the ground but his children are faster. Dani races forward, little arm pulled back and throws her whole body into a jab at the paparazzi's manhood.
The man drops his camera in a wheeze. Dan smashes it with another stone, hitting the lens five times just to make sure it is broken and starts to advance at the man.
Dani is currently yelling at the top of her lungs, swearing, and punching the man with her belt buckle wrapped around her knuckles. It's satisfying to watch- his kids beating down a full-grown man with no training, just vicious righteousness to protect their mother.
That is, until Danny- the apparently more level-headed triplet pulls them both off by the back collar of their shirts. Jason sees it for the first time.
The kids eyes are glowing green.
Horror creeps into every part of his mind, and he doesn't even realize the creep is screaming about suing them or Tim and Bruce's fantastic entry to get a handle on the situation.
He is distantly aware of Steph and Cass, helping a silently crying Jazz walk away, and that Dick, Damian, Duke, and Harper form a protective circle around the kids, but it's Cullen that realizes Jason is frozen.
"Jason? Are you alright?"
No, he is not alright.
Pit's madness ruined his life. It left blanks in his memory. Left him lashing out and killing quickly. It makes him attack Tim and others. It made the child Jason used to be, feel sick and revolted.
It made it hard to look in the mirror and not be disgusted. It was everything that was wrong with him since the Joker took all his innocence away with his blasted crowbar.
Pit Madness is a curse that he has to live with sometimes where he claws at his own skin in a pathetic attempt to get away from it. But he could never escape its taunting whispers, its controlling green, or its presence sitting somewhere behind his eyes that turned him into a monster.
A curse he gave to his children.
He truly is Wills Tod's son, isn't he?
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sadandyetverysexy · 10 months
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Dp x Dc au: Normal is Good
Okay so hear me out— i see lots of “you can’t control Danny he’s a wild child” premises and like, I agree, I love that, but JUST hear me out. Danny who is just entranced by being treated like a NORMAL KID.
I think for best results this should be done with de-aged Danny so he’s a bit younger, but it can def work with regular Danny too.
Danny winds up running around Gotham for one reason or another doing INSANE SHIT to try and help or just survive and his family is out of the way. The explosion, Bad Fentons, etc— and one of the bats picks up Danny. This can be a dad!Jason, or dad!Dick, or classic Bruce Adoption. But they see this little shit running around and are like “no fucking way, not on my watch you little maniac”
Now, a lot of people use the “Jazz practically raised Danny” card, and I love that card and fully support it, but she was also a kid. With no other parents to consult. Who was raised by the Fentons originally and def has no clue what normal parents are like. So she probably didn’t exactly measure up to how a kid is MEANT to be raised. So Danny still had an incredibly strange childhood that just was Not Normal, but I feel like we see Danny with a deep desire to be normal. He doesn’t even really like being a superhero that much, he just wanted to be a kid.
So he gets bat adopted, and Danny is just functioning how he did growing up with the Fentons, which is No Restrictions Do What You Want. And then his bat dad (using Jason for this) is like “No. It’s Bed Time.” And Danny. Danny is ALL for that. He’s bewildered. Mystified. He’s not grumpy about being told what to do at ALL, because he’s just so shocked.
“You’re serious? You’re fucking dead-ass serious? It’s bed time? Oh my god this is so cool. I’ve never had a bed time before! This is great!” Because this is the first time he’s EVER been treated like a normal child by a parental figure. He just got sent to bed. Wow.
Having a parent who is in charge of keeping him healthy and actually enforces Danny taking care of himself is kind of cool.
“Eat your vegetables, they’re good for you.” And they won’t try to eat him back? Fuck yeah, he’ll eat his vegetables!
“No you aren’t allowed to go out at 2 in the morning, go back to bed, you have a doctors appointment for your yearly checkup tomorrow.” oh ancients, Danny has always heard other kids complain about not being allowed out at night, but to have himself told he can’t? This is so weird. And he’s never been to a yearly check up before!
“Brush your teeth before bed” “I can’t get cavities, I’m dead!” “Ya know, for some reason I don’t believe you. When was the last time you went to the dentist? Are you sure you can’t get them?” Danny has 7 cavities.
The first time Danny gets to actually use the “my dad said No” excuse, he is ECSTATIC. Jack and Maddie have LITERALLY never told him he can’t go out somewhere. Ever. He’s in a whole new world where he doesn’t have to fight ghosts, or be a hero, or anything and he loves it. He has a normal kids room without deadly weapons in it and normal kid hobbies and a fridge full of normal food and a parent who enforces a bed time, and it’s weird as hell and it’s great. Normal is pretty damn good, he has no clue what Sam and Tucker were always complaining about. Shits sweet.
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call-me-strega · 4 months
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Dc x Dp Prompt #7: Pavlov’s Ghost Would be so Proud
In which Jazz tries to play matchmaker and accidentally classically conditions her new friend, Jason, into liking her brother.
Basically, Jazz is a college student at Gotham U when she shares a Lit class with Jason Peterson and they bond over deeply analyzing the characters. Jazz isn’t looking for a relationship (maybe she has a partner? Maybe she wants to focus on her studies? I’m low key considering aro-spec Jazz but who knows?) but she thinks Jason would get along great with her brother Danny and decides she wants to set them up.
She bribes Jason into coming over to study or hang out with the promise of fudge and take out and incidentally observes him deeply enjoying said food. She decides that since eating food puts Jason in a good mood that’s when it would be best to talk up her brother. So the next time Jason came over she casually steered the conversation toward her brother’s recent endeavors to transfer to Gotham in order to be closer to her because he’s so sweet and protective. She then offers Jason a slice of cheesecake she had leftover from a lunch out with the some friends which he graciously accepts. Then, just as he starts eating Jazz goes “oh here let me show you a picture of Danny!” and shows off her cute younger brother to her friend.
She doesn’t do it every time she and Jason meet because she figures that’s be too obvious but every time he comes over she offers him food knowing it puts him in a good mood so she can talk up her brother. It’s just that she says his name or shows him a picture of whatever Danny’s been up to recently while he’s eating.
Jazz just genuinely believes she’s just doing her best to be a good wing woman. It’s not until Danny actually moves to Gotham and Jazz decides to introduce them that she realizes what she’s done. She invites Jason over to come meet her brother and watches her how when he sees Danny he gives him an actual genuine smile, not a polite smile you give strangers, but one with actual joy. This is followed quickly by a sense of visible confusion in Jason‘s eyes and Jazz starts to connect the dots.
She excuses herself to the kitchen to go get the snacks she was planning to serve as she looks down at the tray she realizes ‘Oh my gosh I’ve been classically conditioning Jason to associate joy with my brother’! She puts together that an unconditioned stimulus = food (specifically served in her apartment) -> unconditoned response = Jason feels happy/good and that by talking about and showing off her brother every time Jason eats she made her brother a conditioned stimulus for Jason to associate with happiness.
She mentally groans realizing what she’s done but then looks back over at Danny and Jason hitting it off and can’t bring herself to fully regret it. This kinda was her goal as a wingwoman after all. She brings that snacks over to see a flush on her brother’s face and the tips of Jason’s ears red and thinks with a big grin ‘Hey! Maybe if this goes really well it’ll be a fun story to tell at their hypothetical wedding!’
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clockwayswrites · 3 months
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Like Betta Fish Do- Final Part
WC: 3359, Masterpost
“The response to the article has been great— better even than we had predicted,” Tim informed the various family members as he joined them at the breakfast table, tablet in hand.
Jason glanced up from his porridge to look his little brother over. The eye bags were a little dark, but not to the point of concerning yet, at least not on Tim. Still… “You weren’t up all night running numbers, were you?”
“I slept, I just woke up early.” Tim said defensively. “Besides, it’s best to get data like this when it’s new. It allows me to compare the first reaction to the long term response and see if there are any shifts.”
“Good data gathering is important,” Jazz agreed, “but so is taking care of yourself.”
She set the bowl of porridge that she had just finished adding toppings to in front of Tim and blatantly stuck a spoon in his hand. Tim blinked down at the food for a moment before shrugging and taking a bite. Cass, smiling in amusement, handed Jazz a fresh bowl.
“Best news is,” Tim continued after he had swallowed, “that everyone thinks Danny is, and I quote, a ‘Beautiful Cinnamon Roll Too Good For This World, Too Pure’. I mean, that’s not really a new opinion, but the new article really cemented it.”
“I don’t know how to take that,” Danny said after a pause.
“I mean, I’d just be glad to not be a poor little meow meow,” Duke said as he leaned over to look at Tim’s screen.
“The big change,” Tim continued and tilted his screen for Duke to see better, “is that public opinion of Jason has recovered. It was always solid in Gotham, we get it here, but outside of Gotham people were really having some issues with how quickly Jason pressed the button. Danny going on record to say that he asked Jason to press it— that he knew that’s what he was saying— has made a real difference.”
That was good news, but something about the way that Tim was presenting it made Jason tense and he had to purposefully relax his grip around his spoon. “What’s the bad news?”
Tim glanced over at Jason for a moment before looking back down at his tablet. The way he chewed on his lip pretty much assured there was bad news.
“Tim,” Jason pleaded. He got they were all trying to protect them while Danny was still recovering, but he needed to know, “just tell me. I’d rather hear it here from you than out there on the street.”
“There’s a small, and I mean really small, group that claims we made Danny say those things,” Tim explained with a grimace. “It got dug up that Danny’s on a Wayne Inventors’ Scholarship. They’re saying that we threatened to pull the scholarship if he didn’t clear Jason.”
Maybe it was best just to set the spoon down before he bent it in half.
“We don’t publish those names,” Bruce commented, a heavy frown in place as he joined the breakfast table, own tablet in hand.
Tim nodded. “I know.”
“I’ll look into who at the school may have leaked that information.”
“I mean, it could have just been a classmate?” Danny pointed out. “It’s not like I’ve gone around shouting it to the heavens or anything, but, like, I haven’t kept it a secret how I ended up suddenly mid degree in the program.”
“It could have been,” Bruce acquiesced, “but it still bears looking into. Even if nothing comes of it, reminding the school of how they’re bound by FERPA hardly hurts, not with you returning to classes in a week.”
“Yeah that’s going to be… yeah,” Danny said with a sigh.
Jason leaned over to wrap his arm around Danny’s shoulder and brush a kiss against his temple.
“I’ve got to leave in a few days too,” Jazz said apologetically.
Danny nodded and leaned further into Jason. “You’ll be careful?”
“I will.”
“She will also have assistance in that matter,” Alfred said. The clink of the fresh plate of hot cross buns was a firm period on his declaration.
“That’s a sweet thought,” Jazz managed after a moment, “but I do live in a different state.”
“That is hardly an issue, Miss Jasmine. Master Richard will accompany you for the first week to simply make sure that everything is both secure and calm. When he is certain you will be well, he can make his way back easily enough,” Alfred explained. When Jazz opened her mouth to protest, Alfred held up a staying hand. “Miss Jasmine, I assure you it is not a hardship. You are family now and we very much look after our family. It would do all of us well to know that you are safe and sound.”
“Yes, family now,” Cass agreed as she made a grabbing motion at the plate until Tim passed her one of the buns.
“I, well…” A faint blush spread across Jazz’s cheeks. “I guess if it wouldn’t be a problem? And if you’re okay sleeping on the couch, Dick? We’ve only got one actual bedroom in the place, we use the other as an office for us both.”
“Hey, a couch isn’t the worst place I’ve slept by a long run,” Dick chirped. “But if you’re feeling guilty, I’ll taking getting to pick the tunes on the drive.”
“Don’t do it,” Jason said, an attempt to save Jazz that hell. “Seriously, not worth giving him that power. His music tastes are atrocious.”
Dick pouted. “They’re fabulous.”
“No, Jason’s right on this one,” Tim said.
“If Drake is agreeing with Todd, I am afraid that one has to accept there is some truth in the statement,” Damian interjected.
“Baby bat, no,” Dick whined.
From the look he aimed Dick, Damian was unmoved by the plea. “While you have a great many skills, Grayson—”
“Thank you.”
“—your taste in music, fashion, and other matters of culture is not one of those skills.”
“I’m wounded. You wounded me Damian, my baby bat, so cruel… so callous,” Dick said as he basically melted down into his chair.
“Keep up such antics and you will have a true wound to worry about, Grayson,” Damian said with a sniff.
Jason chuckled. “Ah, it’s not breakfast at the Manor without a threat of violence.”
Duke leaned around Tim to look at Jazz. “You still have time to run, Jazz, you don’t have to be part of this family. You can still get out.”
“Hum, I don’t know. Give me a Creep Stick—”
Multiple people looked at Danny and mouthed ‘creep stick?’.
“—and I think I can manage. Besides, none of the food has come back to life yet so it’s a better breakfast than I had most of my childhood.”
In the following silence, Bruce very carefully set his tablet down and folded his hands on top of it. “Food that came back to life?”
“Lab safety was just sort of an ignored suggestion in our childhood home,” Danny said.
“They kept samples in the fridge,” Jazz continued. “It sometimes had… unexpected results.”
“I don’t know, I think after the tenth time the hotdogs come ‘alive’ it’s an expected result,” Danny argued dryly.
“Good heavens,” Alfred declared softly. “And… the Dr. Fentons did nothing?”
Danny just shrugged. “I ate at school or out with my friends a lot.”
“No wonder you’re so pint sized,” Dick cooed.
“Hey!”
“You are, fish. Just a little guppy,” Jason teased. When Danny grumbled, Jason only pulled him closer.
“It really was just the way things were,” Jazz said, apparently still trying to soothe the table. “We know it’s not normal now, but that was just life at the time. It almost made more sense when there were actual ghosts around haunting Amity Park— and I don’t just mean Danny.”
“Boo.”
“Oh, yeah! You still haven’t shown us your ghost form,” Steph pointed out.
“But only if you’re up for it, dude, like… physically and emotionally,” Duke cut in quickly. “You don’t have to show us if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. I mean, it was strange showing Jason the first time— showing someone who knew me as Danny first,” Danny said, “but, like, there are times when I want to be in that form. I even get restless if I go too long without changing over.”
“Or sometimes he just needs something off the top shel-oof,” Jason winced as Danny elbowed him hard. “Hey, I’m just speaking the truth here.”
“You’re the one who used me instead of a step stool to hang cameras,” Danny said with a perfectly sweet smile. “But anyways, yeah, it’s no issue to show you all! You might want to cover your eyes though, it’s a bit bright.”
“Bright?” Dick asked, right as Danny transformed.
It served him right if he was left blinking away spots.
“Oh wow, your lights are totally different like this,” Duke said, leaning forward to peer at Danny.
Danny peered back. “Lights?”
“Oh, sorry, I’m a meta, I see… like, after images of stuff, kinda You’re all sorts of wild like this,” Duke said, waving a hand at Danny.
“And inverted,” Tim pointed out.
“Oh, yeah, it seems to be a thing with halfas? Like, I was wearing a white with black hazmat suit when I died and the inverted version was what my ghost form was in for ages. I’ve learned to make changes to it since, but it’s easier to stay close to that original form.”
“Easier, how?” Bruce asked. He was clearly brimming with questions now that Danny was talking about ghostly matters, but he was obviously trying not to ask everything at once.
Tim didn’t seem much better in his eagerness.
“Oh, hum, there’s this resistance? Think of it like trying to pull apart two things that have been glued together. If you have the right solvent or heat or tools you can do it, but you have to have that and you still risk damage if you don’t go carefully. So small changes are easier. Also what um, role I’m in changes things.”
“Fascinating,” Bruce murmured.
“Wait, hold up,” Dick interrupted before Bruce could ask a follow up. “If you’re a halfa and Jason is a halfa, does this mean that Jason has a ghost form too?”
Jason had to resist pushing his chair back as all eyes spun to him. Sure this was his family, but that single minded Bat focus was still intimidating.
Cass tilted her head. “Like Duke said, only if up for it.”
“It’s just, I haven’t… transformed yet,” Jason said. He tried for a casual shrug and felt like he had missed by a mile. “We had to wait for my core and everything to form first.”
“But you could transform now?” Tim asked curiously.
Jason glanced at Danny.
“I think you could,” Danny said. He was floating a little above his chair now. Casually, as if it was odd, he crossed his legs and leaned forward onto them. “Your core is strong. You aren’t having the power issues I did, but you aren’t trying to go through this when a teen either. Question mostly is if you’re ready to try.”
Did he want to try?
Jason didn’t know. Part of him wanted to. Part of him wanted to be able to experience this aspect of being that Danny experienced— to experience it with Danny. Another part of Jason was still afraid. It still felt like the final period on everything that had happened with the Joker all of those years ago.
But maybe it was time to put that period on it.
Maybe it was time to let go.
Maybe it was time to live.
“I’d… I’d like to try.” At least if the worst happened he’d have his family here with him. One of them would be able to talk him down from a panic if he came back as Robin.
“After breakfast, Master Jason,” Alfred said firmly.
“Yes Alfie.”
-
“So… how does this work?” Dick asked.
They were gathered in the gym— originally a room converted for Dick’s gymnastics and since expanded to have various workout gear— on the bright blue mats. Danny was still in his ghost form and drifted in a lazy circle around the group. Jason and Jazz paid him no mind, but Duke and Steph kept glancing at the ghost.
“Well, I mean, when I was a teen I had to say a catchphrase and everything, but I was a lot more in flux at that age so it was all harder. Now it’s much more like just… taking a breath and jumping.”
“Yeah, fish, I’m going to need you to be a little more specific than that,” Jason drawled, his attitude a thin veil over his nerves.
Danny stopped, hovered in front of Jason, and gave him a chaste kiss. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered.
Jason gave a terse little nod.
“Really,” Danny continued, “you’ll be okay. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths.”
Breathing slowly through his nose, Jason focused on the feeling of Danny’s cold fingers against his cheeks.
“Now feel for your core. Think of what we saw with Frostbite— the fire, the ash, the movement of it. The light of it. Think about how warm it is there under your sternum. Even in this form, it’s part of you.”
Jason let out a breath slowly, feeling his chest fall with it. He focused on that warmth that nestled itself just under skin and bone. He thought about how it had looked in his hands, destructive but full of the promise of life.
“Keep a focus on your core, but think about how it feels to fly through the air as Red Hood. Think about that moment when you’re at the height of a swing and gravity doesn’t seem to matter. Now let go of all of that and fall. Your core will catch you. I’ll catch you.”
Jason gasped. His knees went out under him. He couldn’t breathe.
No…
He didn’t need to breathe. There simply wasn’t that demand on his body. Everything was just… calm. Static. Still. And he felt so warm. He hadn’t been this warm since before he had died only to wake up cold and alone in his own grave.
Jason looked down at his own hands. They were a dark ashen grey and when he flexed them, soot flaked off and scattered. The bat symbol— his bat symbol— glowed molten orange on his chest. He wasn’t in his Robin costume.
His knees felt weak for a second time, but he still didn’t fall. He looked up into Danny’s fanged grin. The other was holding him up by the elbows. Danny had caught him, just like he promised.
Danny's slow grin only uncurled further. “Hey there, hot stuff.”
Jason let his head fall back as he groaned at the joke.
“Nope, you’ve gotta deal with my puns because wow you really took the whole lava core thing to heart, didn’t you?” Danny said, looking Jason over. “Not that you aren’t totally rocking the look.”
“Really?” Jason asked. It was odd to hear his own voice come out modified from the black mask, deep but without the mechanical edge his Red Hood mask did. Steam escaped from the mask at the filters, swirling up into the still air.
“Payback for months of fish jokes,” Danny said and met the glowing red eyes without an ounce of shame. He drew his hands back along Jason’s arms from where he was holding onto his elbows. Jason could feel cold run along his arms and he held back a shiver. “You good to stand?”
Jason nodded. He felt fine now, weird, but fine. “Yeah, I am. Just… this is a lot different.”
“I know,” Danny said easily and a little sadly. He squeezed Jason’s wrists before letting go and drifting back. Without warning, he plunged his hand into his chest to find his Tucker™ phone.
“What the fuck,” Steph whispered from the sidelines.
“Hey, it’s an easy way not to lose things,” Danny said, “and you need a special phone to be able to handle stuff in the ghost zone so I just keep it on me.”
“In you.”
“Same diff,” Danny said with a shrug. He floated back enough to get all of Jason in the frame and snap a photo.
Jason took the phone carefully as it was passed over to him. That was him. He didn’t know what to think of it all yet, but that was him— as much him as Jason or Red Hood were him. This form certainly drew from his current Red Hood uniform, there was no question of that, not with the face mask and hood, but the coat was longer. The end of the coat ended mid thigh in drips and drops of bright red lava that turned to rick black ash and drifted away. The drips gave a clue to the make up of the rest of the coat, an oddly, roughly iridescent black that glowed bright on edges and seems. Inside the hood was almost blindingly bright.
“It’s definitely a look,” Tim said.
“I like it,” Steph interrupted. “You’re going to make the bad guys shit themselves.”
“Miss Stephenie,” Alfred sighed.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it!” Tim grumbled. “I guess I just didn’t expect it to be so… otherworldly after Danny’s form.”
Danny shrugged and tucked himself into Jason’s side. The coat sizzled where Danny touched it. “I’m really the odd ghost out. Most of them are much more dramatic and themed to their obsession or core.”
“I think it is impractical. There will be no ambushing anyone when you glow in such a manner,” Damian sniffed.
“Jason’s ghost form isn’t for taking on criminals, Damian,” Bruce said. Jason knew B was thinking it through though from the slightly constipated look on his face.
“I guess with that coat you could totally say that look is dripping,” Duke said and then reached over to high five Dick as Cass signed ‘fire’ dramatically.
“This is your fault,” Jason let Danny know, “the puns.”
“They were like this when I got here,” Danny said, repentantly. “Come on though, open up.”
“Open up?”
“Your mask,” Danny said, tapping on the hard black surface. “I bet you can retract it. Just think about it pulling back and tucking away.”
Jason frowned under the mask but Danny was right before, so he took a breath and tried to picture the mask collapsing on itself and pulling back behind his neck.
The air of the room felt cold on his face.
“Oh, wow, your hair’s inverted,” Dick said, “just like Danny thought it would be. That’s almost more wild than the outfit.”
Jason reached up self consciously to tug at what must now be a black lock only for Danny to catch his hand and kiss it lightly.
“There you are. It took me a long time, but I finally found you,” Danny said.
“Found me?”
Danny gave a little hum. “Yep. Found that ghost whose haunt I crashed into all that time ago. Who would have thought I’d go from being worried about how angry your haunt felt to actually getting to know you like this— getting to know all of you. Getting to see you.”
Danny drifted up just a little more, just enough to press their lips together into a kiss. Icy cold met magma hot and Jason closed his eyes to sounds of cat calls and ‘steamy’. His siblings might be damn annoying, but they weren’t wrong, the kiss was literally steaming.
“Careful or you’ll be smoked salmon before you know it, fish.”
“I don’t know, I think I’d put up with it for you. You know why? Because I lava you,” Danny said with a cackle of laughter.
Jason rolled his eyes, but pulled Danny into another kiss. He had better get used to the puns, he supposed, but somehow he thought he would manage. He thought he would manage because he was no longer just a dead boy, because he had his family around him supporting him, because he also loved Danny. They had not only their afterlives, but their whole lives ahead of them.
And Jason… Jason was determined to live.
---
AN: And here we are... done! I hope you all enjoyed every moment of this fish's adventure, the love he found, and the life he helped give back! It was a journey for sure, and it took me longer than I expected, but I am ever so grateful for you all being along for it! I'll update ao3 tomorrow!
Stay delightful, darlings!
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sister-cna-reader · 1 year
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DC x DP
“Do you know anyone willing to date a ghost-touched woman over 6ft tall?” 
Barbara Gordon blinked slowly at the lanky teenager who asked the question. His arms were full of astronomy books and he was leaning in close as if it was a serious question. 
“It depends? I’m a librarian, not a matchmaker.” she replied, holding her hands out for the books to scan. “Why are you asking? It’s an awfully specific criteria.” 
Daniel Nightingale was the name of the boy before her. Just registered in the library system a little under 3 months ago. 17 years old and with that black hair, sky blue eyes and scars on the hand partially covered by a fingerless glove- Wayne adoption bait. 
“My older sister is great and all.” he said, fidgeting with his sleeves, “But I think she needs to live a little you know? She’s so.. So….” he made a compressing motion with his hands, like packing a snowball. 
“Repressed?” Barbara suggested, scanning the book on the Hubble Telescope. 
With a snap of his fingers he grinned. “Exactly! Now if only I could find a guy for her that is ghost-touched…” he muttered under his breath.  
“What do you mean by ‘ghost- touched’?” 
“Oh you know,” he mimicked the paddles of a defibrillator, “Clear!” he chuckled. 
Did this lady have a heart attack? Heart problems? 
“I died but it didn’t stick, so someone who is like me would be good. Then we wouldn’t have to explain the whole thing.” 
“Oh, I see.” the redhead said, not understanding much at all. “Due date for the books is in one month. I’ll keep an eye out for your sister?” 
Danny nodded and gathered all the books into a beat up backpack. “You can’t miss her. Long red hair, super tall, looks like she’ll either have a nervous breakdown or murder someone if you bump into her.” 
Barbara could only nod in agreement to the boy as he seemed to float out of Gotham Public Library. 
~~
Jazz was ready to shove her little not-quite-dead brother into the Fenton Thermos. She was doing well at her counseling position at the University, but Danny had insisted that her newfound hours of free time should be used in romantic pursuits.
“If you had friends you hung out with I won’t pester you. But Jazz! You need to do something fun!” He had said from the kitchen counter, hair glowing and eyes like two green beacons. “Live a little! We’re already part dead! Let go!” 
So she trudged her way to the Public Library. If she had to get out of the house to shut her brother up, she’d at least be an introvert about it. 
Jazz put on her best pleasant face and made her way to the librarian’s desk to get registered. 
The woman behind the counter was like looking into a warped mirror. Glasses, hair just a shade brighter, and eyes the wrong color looked back at her in mirrored surprise. 
“Bad hair day?” the mirror image guessed, pointing at the slouchy hat and messy bun that contained the mass of copper hair that Jazz hadn’t cut in the last year. 
“Uh yeah. Little brother was pestering me about going out, so I’m here for a library card.” Jazz rambled, doing her best to not play with the strap of her purse. 
“I’m Barbara, and welcome to Gotham Public Library!” The woman smiled warmly. 
When Jazz handed over her ID for Barbara to input the required information in the database the lady smirked. “I met your brother a few days ago actually. Tall, scrawny, likes space?”
Jazz groaned. “I’m so sorry about him.” 
The librarian’s glasses were white from the monitor. “Oh don’t worry about it, I know how younger siblings are. They mean well, they’re just annoying about it.” 
Card squared away, Jazz went in search of a quiet corner to read a trashy romance novel in. 
~~ 
Jason took his rare day off to visit the Library. He was also going to drop off a coffee for Barbara, and maybe sweet talk some info out of her. 
He needed some blackmail to lord over some birds. 
“Jason! How good to see you in the daylight! Oh! Coffee! Gimmie,” his favorite tech person greeted. 
Coffee offering made, Jason and Barbara traded information. 
“You should take a load off.” She suggested, waving him away towards the adult fiction shelves as some patrons came to check out. “See you at dinner Sunday!” 
The building was warm today, rare sunlight coming through the skylights and windows, making his leather jacket too hot to wear indoors. And there was nothing else pressing on his schedule today, so why not read a bit? 
Austen novel in hand, Jason made his way to his favorite reading nook. Instead of the two empty armchairs he’d push together into a lounge, there was a woman already there, firmly in the ray of sun that made her red hair look like fire. 
Her long legs were stretched out, boots cluncking together in a slow rhythm as she read. 
“Oh,”  
Bright green eyes startled and looked at him dead in the eyes. He blinked, and they were no longer green but a calming ocean blue.  
“Sorry,” she said, folding her legs back to let him pass. 
“Nah, it’s okay, I kind of want to soak in some sun too. Mind sharing?” Jason offered, fully prepared to leave the tall amazon alone.  But deep down he felt something warm and grow fuzzy. 
“Sure,” she scooted her chair over and pulled the other closer so they both shared the spot of sun. “I’m Jazz.” 
He sat down next to her and the scent of her shampoo reminded him of the herby bread that Alfred made with soup. She stretched out again and he realized that her legs were much longer then his. 
“I’m Jason.”
Inside the pit barely rippled. 
Her phone beeped and she opened the beat-up thing to scoff. “Danny for Ancient’s sake,” she typed something out only for another beep to immediately reply.  
Jason frowned. “Danny your boyfriend?” 
Blue eyes met him in an exasperated roll. “No. He's just a little brother who can’t mind his own business. Now he wants a selfie to prove ‘I’m not alone being a cave troll.’ Just a sec.” 
She started to angle away to send a picture of her flipping off the phone, but Jason pulled her closer and let his arm be visible around her shoulders in the selfie. He hadn’t thought, just acted. 
There was a surprising amount of muscle under that sweater.
The pit purred in pleasure and Jason wanted to melt into the floor. 
Jazz giggled, her smile showing teeth that were just a little too sharp. “Oh he’ll be happy with this I think. Only thing that would be better is if you had a big black motorcycle. That’d send him through the roof.” 
His breath hitched. The sun must’ve been too hot, and he felt himself grow warm under that bright smile. 
“Would a black and red motorcycle do?”  Was this flirting? Was he flirting? Was it working? He hoped it was working.
Those eyes lit up again and she tossed the book onto the chair, towering over him. “That’s perfect. He hates the idea of me on a motorcycle with a biker boyfriend.” 
Jason stood up and tossed his jacket to Jazz with a feral smile. “Let’s get you some pictures riding a motorcycle my lady.” 
The pit crowed in happiness, a rare thing when not caused by blood or murder. He made sure to get a few pictures of her on his bike with his own phone before remembering it should really be on Jazz’s phone, to send to Jazz’s brother. 
Not wanting the fun time to end, he put his helmet in her hands. “I know a good burger joint. Want to stay out late? See some sights?”
He was so focused on the redhead woman in his leather jacket straddling his bike, he forgot about the other redhead with access to the security cameras.
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p1nkshield · 9 months
Text
Hi 👋 This is chapter four of the Estranged Uncle Au!
Just a warning there is mentions of cults and a scene that has Damian being Damian (AKA knife child) Please take care of yourselves! I hope you enjoy!
Clark was sweating buckets.
“I promise you I’m not in danger! This is all a big misunderstanding! Bruce isn’t even that creepy!”
Jazz rattled off several reasons.
“He has a cloyingly sweet public persona, his personal computer has extensive information on all of the local rogues in the area and all the adopted sons we’ve met look practically identical to both each other and you and Danny! Not to mention they all seem trained for combat! How is that not creepy?”
Okay from an impartial standpoint Clark could see how it looked like he was tied up in a cult.
“I swear if another fruitloop billionaire obsessed with one of my family members tries to adopt me I’m gonna wail!”
How specific!
“Wail?” Clark began to ask but was cut off.
“Are you tied up in a cult Clark? Because we can get you out if you are! I … uh know a guy who specializes in taking down cults.”
What?
“I promise you I’m not in a cult! The blue eyes and black hair is a coincidence and I am not in danger! Also what do you mean you know a guy who specializes in taking down cults!?!”
Danny squinted.
“Hold that thought. Everyone stop talking!”
Danny reached towards Clark’s shoulder and picked out a small device, no bigger than a grain of rice out of his cable knit sweater.
“No one who plants listening devices into sweaters isn’t creepy.”
He then promptly threw it to the ground and crushed it with his heel.
“That’s the end of the recording.” Tim said while cringing.
“Sleazy?!? Me? Sleazy? I did a back handspring on hardwood floors for them and they call me sleazy?!”
Dick thought that he could win them over. Was he too heavy handed?
“It’s probably because you fell asleep in the pico de gallo timber.” Jason joked as he inspected the weapons vault.
“What? Me?!? I was the only one who made any headway! I was just up late trying to track whoever was hacking us!” Tim defended.
“Well good news! You found ‘em! Let me know when they hack my library account seeing as the Big bad bat computer is being hacked by a couple teens.” Jason said dismissively as he took a flamethrower fuel canister.
Bruce was experiencing a new amalgamation of emotions. He was both incredibly embarrassed, incredibly amused and incredibly impressed.
How embarrassing that the bat computer was hacked! He put so much effort into the protection of his data!
But then again Clark must be beside himself trying to convince them he wasn’t in a cult and that was incredibly amusing. He even said all the things that people said when they were in denial about being in a cult!
This was absurd! The only way to describe this was absurd!
“Fools! All of you do not truly understand the gravitas of the situation! If they believe that we are indeed weapons dealers they may snoop further and compromise all of our secret identities!” Damian huffed his way into the view of his family.
“We’ll be alright Dami, Tim is reinforcing our defenses for the computer and we’re going to try and disengage for a while. If we keep on trying we might make it worse.” Dick ruffled through Damian’s hair despite many protests.
Damian tutted at this suggestion. They needed to approach the problem head on and quickly rectify the situation lest it spiral into a larger one. Perhaps if they suffered an accident.
“Damian! I know that face! That’s the face you make when you go off and try to rectify the situation by yourself!”
“That is not true Grayson! I was simply thinking about confiding in my companion about how tedious my science project is.”
“You promise you’re only going to engage in age appropriate activities like science homework and book reports?”
“I promise.”
"I'm choosing to believe you" Dick began to walk away before pulling another sour face. "...Sleazy?"
Damian checked his hidden blades one final time before encroaching upon this Daniel Fenton who had foolishly entered an alleyway. He deftly held a knife to the throat of his target.
"If you continue to snoop into my father's business I will not hesitate to cut you down!"
Damian was expecting to me met with fear and copious apologies. He was a fearsome and terrifying warrior after all.
"Are you trying to hold me at knifepoint on your tippy-toes?" The target said in the same tone that one would use with a kitten trying to jump a bit too high. They should be focused on the clear danger Damian was posing. Or at least the danger he was posing. Between the moment Damian looked at his feet and the moment he looked back up to find a very unperturbed Danny.
"Did your father put you up to this?" He asked.
"No! I acted of my own accord!"
"Well are there anymore ineffective threats you want to say?"
Damian was about to say something when his stomach audibly growled. Curses! He could not bring a meal in order to maintain secrecy from Alfred! Damian slowly looked up towards Danny's face. He has that look that Grayson gets before he does something annoying like ruffle his hair.
"Are you hungry?"
Damian did not dignify this question with an answer and began to storm off.
"I'm having some friends over, we can spare you a plate! My friend Sam chose the menu though so its vegan."
Damian stopped in his tracks.
"What is it that you are making?"
"Cauliflower gnocchi with cashew cream pesto."
"And this is taking place in Clark's home?"
"yep."
"Fine. But I will not be lenient with you because you've offered me a meal!"
Danny laughed and texted Sam
"Hey get another bundle of basil Im bringing a guest"
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supershot73199 · 5 months
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Hey so this is kinda inspired by @virgamsysxvolumes lucky rush au but it's more my own twist on the bioshock inspiration. Actual prompt / idea below the cut
Ok so this would be a good parents au where Danny revealed himself to his parents shortly after the series (excluding phantom planet) and they were super supportive and asked for his help in learning more about ghosts. He also managed to track down Dani and brought her back to Amity only to learn that the ecto dejecto was only a quick fix. Eventually with Frostbites help they cure Dani but the only way is to essentially turn her into her core and let her form a new body in a special pod only she would be a baby. Now at first Jack and Maddie were going to fake a pregnancy and pretend she was Danny's and Jazz's sister however she and Danny bonded while they were looking for a cure and she accidentally called him Daddy. Danny was smitten and decided he would not pretend to be her brother and would be her dad.
The fentons pass it off as an invention gone weird that basically made a baby from Danny with no mother and Amity just shrugs at the Fenton weirdness and accept baby Dawn (She asked Danny to give her a new name before she was turned to a baby and I think that would be a cute name Danny would come up with.) Now 4 years later Danny is 19 or 20 and Dawn is 4 years old and Danny had been studying inventing like his parents and medicine from Frostbite. At Dawn's most recent check up Frostbite gave Danny one as well only to discover that Danny has been absorbing more ecto-energy than his core can handle because he is a primordial in the making (yes this is master of space Danny). So the solution to this is two-fold he has to move to another dimension with less ecto-energy and he has to where a special suit in his ghost form that frostbite and his parents made together. Which is this.
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Just without the drill and maybe a little more astronaut themed.
So eventually they pack up Danny and Dawn and find a new dimension with a city where they can live without people asking too many questions. Gotham city. With the number of vigilantes already there Danny won't feel obligated to go out and fight and he can finish his degree at Gotham U and start a business making and selling meta specialized medical equipment and other helpful inventions. (But no weapons.)
So Danny and Dawn with their new identities and parents/grandparents, aunts and uncles (blood and honorary) settle in pretty well with Danny and Dawn going out on moonlit walks in Ghost form. Thus the people of Gotham meet Big Daddy and his little starlight.
Now as for who I would ship with Danny I personally love DannyxCass or Dead silent as I think the current ship name for them is.
So maybe she meets the single dad Danny at college or at the park for the first time but they don't really hit it off until Danny signs Dawn up for a ballet class that Cass teaches.
Meanwhile Bruce and the more paranoid Bat's are trying to find out more about this tank like Meta that the public named big daddy (I imagine people heard Dawn calling him Daddy and No one ever asked his name so they start calling him that as a sort of meme) after he beat down a feral ManBat who tried to go after Starlight. (They heard Danny call her that in the suit and ran with it)
Basically we have creepy tank man and his glowing ghostly daughter on one side and sweet Cass and Danny romance with little gremlin Dawn trying to play matchmaker on the other.
Also what I think the other bat's think of Cass new boyfriend.
Dick is full overprotective big brother.
Jason after seeing the way that Danny is trying to help the underprivileged and the fact that they are like something out of a Hallmark movie ships it.
Tim is paranoid about this stranger and is back to his old habits(stalking) to find answers.
Steph is full Gung ho wing women she will be Cass bridesmaid God dammit.
Damien starts off hostile thinking there is no way he's good enough for his favorite sister until he meets Dawn and suddenly he is declaring that Cass needs to hurry up and marry him or else he will because he will have that adorable little girl in his family no matter what.
Duke is wary at first because he hadn't ever seen someone who glows as bright as Danny and Dawn but the more time he spends with them the more he realizes that the bright glow is a safe and protective aura and that it reaches out and covers everyone Danny cares about. (Danny has a ghostly aura he subconsciously covers people he cares about with that let's him react to danger faster)
Alfred is already planning out weddings and birthdays. He always expected Dick to be the first one to give him Great grand babies but he's not complaining.
Bruce much like Dick is full over protective dad maybe he even borrows one of Alfred's guns to try to intimidate Danny.
Barbara who is both a big sister figure and a almost mother like figure to Cass is absolutely delighted. (It doesn't hurt that Danny made a set of leg braces that can read nerves to allow her to walk naturally again without needing surgery)
Selina adores the two and thinks they make a cute couple.
Also I think it would be funny if after all of Bruce, Dicks, and Tim's paranoia Danny just strait up tells them that he is from another dimension and even offers to let them tag along on the next visit to his parents so they can do a proper background check (which freaks them out because they hadn't told him they were doing that. At least until while they are discussing it and if that was evidence that Danny is more than he appears Cass says she told him that they were doing a background check on him. Not that Danny didn't already know but it helps the suspicion.)
But yeah part neutral Meta and park Hallmark romance.
Also maybe a side plot of Jazz coming to this dimension and maybe she has a relationship with Supergirl because I haven't seen that before.
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demonic0angel · 8 days
Note
hi hello fellow obsessed-with-jazz person i have. Thoughts.
I see so fics where jazz has fangs and/or is a werewolf/vampire and i raise you- jazz is a sleep-biter. Jason wakes up and has to shake her off his arm like a piranha every morning, it's cute, sure! but he kind of needs that arm...
Also i want Tall!Jazz to just casually pick him up and move him around, like if they're running, jazz just flashes him a sneaky smile, hoists him up on her shoulders, and takes off like a bullet. Or she just casually cradles him in one arm like a litol baby man when he's doing his whole "i have a gun and i WILL use it" shtick.
AND AND i love when you give her like, more limbs? like tentacles or a tail or anything! She looks like she's doing something almost insultingly civilian, but her "extra bits" are absolutely TORMENTING some poor bat/rogue in the meantime.
idk, jazz is my muse and i will make her so so so silly(and feral)
Hello!
I hc that Jason is also a biter and so I raise you— both Phantom family and Bat family get completely freaked out when they see the two looking MAULED but both Jason and Jazz are like :)) I think they would have mutual cuteness aggression towards each other!
I love the idea of Jazz just manhandling Jason whenever she wants and he just lets her. It’s actually part of a one-shot I’m writing! I haven’t gotten to finishing it tho…
Yessssss I love it when Jazz is both sweet and horrifying. She smiles at Jason and behind her, are her shadows tearing apart the mob that was about to ambush him.
Jazz is EVERYTHING
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 7 months
Text
Paper rings 🩷
Jason Todd x singer!reader
A/N: I have to be honest, half of this is cat content ngl. This is based off the song by T. Swift :) Catdad!Jason is real because I say so. I geeked out and somehow love for greek mythology always find its way into my Jason fics idk
Enjoy!
~Fi 🪻
Prompt: reader is a singer who writes a song for Jason. How does he react?
Requested by: 🌙 anon
Warnings: fluff all around! Cute kitty moments, the concert parts may be all wrong idk what I'm doing lmao
Word count: 1.8k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
🎤°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°☁️°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°🎤
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🎤°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°☁️°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°🎤
You let out a sigh as you got into your car. It had been a long day in the studio, recording new songs for your latest album. Your throat hurt, but you were happy with the progress you had made today. Starting the car, you made your way home to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Jason.
It was his birthday soon, and you'd planned a little surprise, not only for him but for your fans as well. You had written him a song, one that would be on your newest record. You smiled only thinking about it, you couldn't wait to pull off this surprise.
The show you were performing tomorrow in Gotham was no ordinary one. You'd called it the "Jazz on Special", which was just a a play on Jason. Your lovely, yet sometimes a little daft lover had not gotten the hint. Good.
He always attended your concerts, watching from backstage, giving his support. The moment you stepped off stage, he was immediately one you, showering you in compliments and kisses, telling you how proud he was of you.
So you figured this was the least you could do to show your appreciation for him. You wanted the whole world to know how much he actually meant to you, scream it into the crowds. So that's excatly what you were going to do.
Unlocking your apartment door, you stepped in, dropping your keys in the little dish right by the entrance. You could hear footsteps the minute the door closed. Jason came towards you, with a big smile and open arms. "How was your session today, Baby?" He asked, wrapping you in his strong and comforting arms. You snaked your arms around his waist and hid your face against his chest. "Was really good. My throat is sore though, I need some tea." You mumbled, letting a content sigh to be in his arms. He placed a kiss to the top of your head.
"I'll make you some, got get comfy, okay?" He said softly, stroking your hair. "Thanks, Jay," you replied, slipping from his embrace with smile. You went to put on a change of clothes. You did wear comfortable clothes to your recording sessions, but you had to dress it up at least little bit with some jewelry. It probably wouldn't be the best look to show up to work in your kitty PJs.
After having changed into said kitty PJs, you plopped down on the couch next to Jason and your cat, Nyx. She was a black stray with a white streak on her forehead. You'd picked her up from a local animal shelter, you just couldn't resist her cute little white paws that made her look like she wore socks and the fact that she matched Jason. It was supposed to be his Christmas gift one year, but you just couldn't keep her to yourself.
Although you got her for Jason, he insisted you name her, his reasoning being that she got her looks from dad so her name should be from mom. And yes, you do treat her like your child. You named her Nyx, after the greek goddess. She was the first, daughter of Chaos, night incarnate. You thought that it fit, with Jason being the protector of Gothams street at night. And in a way, you were grateful to her, to Mother Night, for holding Jason safely in her dark yet loving embrace.
"Nyxieeee!! There you are my sweet girl! I missed you SO much, yes I did," you beamed in a high pitched baby voice, scratching her face. You stole her off Jason's lap, making him huff. Taking her into your arms, you placed overly dramatic kisses on her tiny head. She didn't seem to mind, though, rubbing her cheeks against your hand and purring. Jason's face softened at the sight.
You looked so precious like this, the cat curled up in your arms as you cooed at her. You'd be a little embarrassed about your habit of talking to animals in a baby voice if Jason too, wasn't guilty of it as well. He put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. "You know, technically that's my cat," he said with a smirk on his face. You shot him a glare.
"Technically, you wouldn't have her without me and you asked me to be her mom. She's my child too, Jason!" You responded playfully. He threw his head back, laughing. "I guess she is, huh. Thank you for being the mother of my furrbaby." He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "It's my absolute pleasure, baby."
You were getting sleepy, your eyes unvoluntarily fluttering shut ever so often. Nyx was curled up on your lap, peacefully snoozing away while Jason was intently watching whatever was playing on the TV. You took a sip of the tea Jason had so lovingly prepared for you. Setting the mug back down on the coffee table, your gaze shortly fell on Nyx and- wait
You had to do a double take. She had one of her small paws reached out towards Jason who was gently holding it and without paying much mind, softly stroking his thumb over it. Your heart was about to explode. Your lips were slightly parted and your eyes were wide, looking at Jason completely bewildered. He noticed your stare, turning his head towards you with furrowed brows.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked, the question slightly muffled by the hand that was supporting his head. "That's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen," you mumbled, the shock pretty evident in your voice as you gestured to his huge hand that was ever so softly caressing Nyx's comparably tiny paw. His eyes softened.
"It is, isn't it? The first time she did it I was practically shaking from excitement," he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. Your brows shot together. "What do you mean 'the first time'?! Has she done this before? AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME?!" You yelled in disbelief. How dare he keep something so precious from you.
"Sorry, Baby."
"Unbelievable."
Today was the day. The day you would pour your heart out in front of Gotham. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. The blood in your veins was at boiling point and you were seconds away from a panic attack. Fiddling with the two colorful paper rings you had made for today, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. This was fine. You were fine. You've literally done this hundreds of times. But would Jason like it? God, you hoped he would.
Before you could overthink more, you heard your cue through your earpiece and it was showtime.
The 'normal' part of the concert went well, you performed some of your best songs, the crowd was amazing and it was overall an incredible night. You'd talked to your fans a little on stage between songs, receiving some nice little gifts here and there. Flowers, plushies as well as a bra was thrown on stage. Well that was a first. Not that you complained, you were rather flattered, actually.
It was nice to know that you had the ladies on your side. Jason, who was watching from backstage, almost keeled over with laughter when he saw you pick up the under garment, completely bewildered. He would never let you live this down.
"Alright, Gotham," you said breathlessly, "before our lovely night comes to an unfortunate end, I have prepared a little something. Not only for you, but also for my special someone, who might or might not be here today," cheering could be heard from the audience as you fixed your earpiece and chuckled breathlessly into the microphone.
Singing and jumping around stage sure was a work out.
"This is a song I've not shared publicly, as it is from my new album, but I thought I'd make a little exception for all of you and at the same time be the best girlfriend and make the coolest birthday present ever!" You laughed. The moment you mentioned that it was a new song the crowd absolutely lost their shit. You don't think any of your concerts have ever been this loud. Your eardrums nearly burst at the sheer volume of teenage girls screaming their souls out.
"Here's Paper rings. This is for you, Jason." You said with a smile on your face. The music started playing and it's like all your worries faded away. You'd been waiting for this moment for weeks, to finally share this song and your love for Jason. As you sang the lyrics, a compilation of cute and silly pictures of you and Jason ran over the huge screen behind you. Some were of you and Jason in a face mask, others were of Jason cuddling with Nyx. You occasionally glanced over to Jason who was doing his best to hold back his tears with the biggest smile on his face. Your heart swelled at the sight.
With the last bit of music fading out, you finished the song and bowed. The picture remaining on the screen was of you and Jason kissing with a sunset in the background. A heart was drawn around it. The minute the last words left your lips, Jason was storming on stage, showering you in kisses. He held you tightly against him, peppering kisses all over your face. His actions made you giggle into the microphone and the crowd went wild. The security guards were really struggling by this point.
You grabbed Jason's hand and slipped one of the two paper rings on his finger, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. The dam broke. There were happy tears rolling down his cheeks as he continued kissing you. Managing to pull away, you addressed your fans one last time. "Thank you, and Good Night, Gotham!"
You squealed when Jason unexpectedly picked you up bridal style and whisked you off stage, your head thrown back in laughter. It was safe to say you were on the front page of the Gotham Gazette the next day.
Jason was talking his heart out on the way home, talking about how much he loved it and how much he loved you. You were listening patiently, holding his hand while a big smile was plastered on your cheeks.
Now, you found yourself in the familiar spot on the couch, Jason's arms wrapped around you with little Nyx making biscuits on your thigh. "I have one question for you, though," you said, turning your head to Jason. "What is it?" He replied softly.
"How the fuck did you not get the play on your own name?"
"Oh, shut up." He pouted, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You let out a soft laugh.
"I love you too, Baby."
🎤°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°☁️°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°🎤
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halfagone · 2 months
Text
Celebrating DPxDC Ships
Since I missed out on DPxDC Ship Week this year (I promised myself I would focus on my multi-chapter fics more and I already have so many birthday gift fics to work on, forgive me-), I thought what better way to celebrate the event than looking back on a variety of ships!
I'll try my best to showcase as many ships as possible, but if I miss out on any y'all think should get some love, please do add it in a reblog and spread the celebration! Please keep in mind that all these figures are sourced from Ao3.
Jazz Fenton/Jason Todd (Hardcover Ship) (F/M)
First Fic Posted:
Crash Course by Carmic (Published: March 29th, 2020.)
As of February 21st, 2024: 173 total.
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Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead On Main) (M/M)
First Fic Posted:
I Don't? Work Alone by DomesticatedOpossum (Published: June 17th, 2020.)
As of February 21st, 2024: 277 total.
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Danny Fenton/Dick Grayson (Death Defying) (M/M)
First Fic Posted:
The Ghost of a Robin by MaxineWolf (Published: August 5th, 2015.)
As of February 21st, 2024: 93 total.
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Cassandra Cain/Jazz Fenton (Quiet Time (better known as Cazz)) (F/F)
First Fic Posted:
Hit me with your sweet love (Steal me with a kiss) by coolerdazai (Published: February 9th, 2023.) @bum-bum-bakudan
As of February 21st, 2024: 21 total.
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Cassandra Cain/Danny Fenton (Deathly Silent) (F/M)
First Fic Posted:
El retorno de Sentry by RocKzAr77 (Published: January 24th, 2022.)
As of February 21st, 2024: 31 total.
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Danny Fenton/Damian Wayne (Dead Serious) (M/M)
First Fic Posted:
Incision by DizzlyPuzzled (Published: January 29th, 2018.) @dizzlypuzzled
As of February 21st, 2024: 123 total.
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Danny Fenton/Bruce Wayne (Spirit Halloween) (M/M)
First Fic Posted:
You Got The Feels by happy_alligator (Published: July 14th, 2022.)
As of February 21st, 2024: 45 total.
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Tim Drake/Danny Fenton (Dead Tired) (M/M)
First Fic Posted:
Vertical Limit by hppjmxrgosg (Published: January 6th, 2022.) @hppjmxrgosg
As of February 21st, 2024: 206 total.
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As always, please read any tags and warnings before you continue further with a story. I haven't gotten the chance to read all of these myself, but it is very curious to see what ships have endured the test of time and what have bloomed at surprising speed.
And this isn't even including all the platonic relationships we've explored! We've grown a lot as a niche crossover, and that deserves some love too. Look out, world, we ain't stopping any time soon. Happy reading! 📖✨❤️
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 14 days
Text
Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 20
wooo we hit chapter 20!! yeaahhh
MASTAPOST
Beautiful, sunlit beaches blanketed the coastline underneath the street level where colourful tiles crisscrossed. An umbrella kept the heat away from the rustic wooden table at which the Fenton family, minus their youngest, and Bruce Wayne sat. The SAV sat peacefully by the pier where they had disembarked.
They had been sailing for the better part of the afternoon, finally stopping to pick up lunch at Jazz’s insistence. Mr Wayne’s insisted on paying, ever the rich philanthropist.
Jazz Fenton couldn’t be more worried, although she had to hide it. Sitting opposite her, Mr Wayne idly chatted with her parents about their college days. Once she knew what she was looking for, it was painfully obvious that he was interrogating them for information on Vlad Masters, another billionaire thorn in the family’s side (not that her parents knew).
She fidgeted. Her foot tapped repeatedly on the stop, arched to not make sounds that would give her state of general anxiety away. Once she told Tucker what was happening, the boy had gotten to work right away. It would take some time to locate the files containing the specs for the newest inventions, and then more time to analyse them and pinpoint what damage she could do.
She’d need to call Sam next. Tucker had given her the number for Sam’s spare, although there was no guarantee she’d be able to answer soon.
Until then, Jazz was on her own. She picked at her sweet and sour fish broth soup, rolling the tomato chunks around. If she gave herself food poisoning somehow, that might give the boys potentially a week to get away. Then again, there was an equal chance one of her parents would stay with her while the other went with Bruce.
As it was, she could definitely malinger a stomach issue, and delay them for maybe half an hour. Sirens swam quickly, so that time could be valuable for them.
“What about you, Jasmine? What got you interested in psychology?” Came Bruce Wayne’s baritone. Shit.
Jazz was startled out of her thoughts. Before she could open her mouth, she did an awareness check. A mental checklist of where she was and what she needed to do and not do appeared in her head. If she tipped off this man, then it could very lead to her brother underneath a scalpel. No pressure at all.
“Uhm, well. Mr Wa- Bruce.” Jazz found herself stuttering when talking about psychology for the first time in her life. Dammit. She looked to the side, where her father nodded like an excited puppy. Not helping, dad.
“Well I’ve always been interested in people, you see.” Jazz kept a close eye on Bruce Wayne’s posture, studying him. “What makes them upset. What makes them happy.”
She side-eyed her parents. On one side, her mother glared viciously at her fried fish. On the other, her father arranged fries into smiling faces.
“With this family, I’ve had a lot to think about.” That was a good start, right? With any luck, he would be the one to give something away, something she could use against him.
Bruce Wayne chuckled, an easy (fake?) smile worn like a mask. “I can certainly relate. Many times my boys have left me pulling my hair out. It’s a chaotic house most days.”
That was right! Jazz recalled the preliminary research she had done earlier in the day. Bruce Wayne was known to be an endlessly kind man, but suffered several interpersonal issues over the years. One was the notorious apparent teenage tantrum thrown by an 18-year-old Dick Grayson, shortly before his second son, Jason was adopted.
The less said about Jason’s unfortunate fate, the better. Although he may have been brought back, somehow??
She wasn’t sure whether to envy his therapist or not.
It had been exhausting teasing the truth out of the myriad gossip articles on the Wayne family. If Danny were here, he’d bully her relentlessly for going back on her noted disdain towards the ‘shallow and vapid celebrity news industry dedicated to turning private interpersonal conflicts into products to be consumed.’ Oh how the mighty have fallen.
What she could be reasonably sure of was that the present-day family dynamics of the Waynes were testy, to say the least. Apparently their youngest, the Damian who had disappeared into the waves just two days ago, had been dealing with violent tendencies for some time and had no patience for entertaining the elites like his brothers used to. And that was just the public stuff.
Right. She could work with this.
“Was it difficult? In the early days, with your first son.” Jazz said, putting on tones of sympathy and empathetic connection, the kind she would use when she’d try to get Danny to open up.
A pained look came over Bruce. That was good!
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to poke any sensitive issues.” She added with false franticness. The longer the ball was in Bruce Wayne’s court, the better.
Mr Wayne waved her off. “No, it’s fine. Just old memories.”
“Are they fond memories?”
“Yes. It was the happiest time of my life. There was a lot of adjustment. I was a bachelor in my twenties, and suddenly I had an entire child in my hands. Dick had me running around like a headless chicken half the time.”
“Did it get easier?” Jazz asked. The billionaire’s eyes almost glazed over.
“Not particularly. If anything, things got harder. I learned very quickly that experience raising one child does not entirely transfer to another.”
Oh, that was good. Jazz filed this information into her mental notebook.
“But enough about me and my old man troubles.” With that endlessly disarming smile, she could tell why people fell for the playboy turned beleaguered father. “If you’re looking for a good psycho-analysis, I’m afraid I’m a bit basic compared to what Gotham has to offer.”
Drat. Was she that obvious? No, he’d just talked about her psychology interest. She could handle this easily. She just needed to be careful what she said, and didn’t say.
“I guess you could say I’m interested in non-traditional family dynamics. My parents have always been… eccentric.”
“That’s the Fenton way!” Her father shouted. Several other patrons looked at them scathingly. “Too bad Jazzpants hates siren hunting almost as much as… as…” Her father’s expression sank.
That calculating look came back in full force. Dammit dad! She needed to salvage this.
“My feelings towards my parents’ profession aside, the evidence points very strongly to Phantom being connected to my brother’s disappearance. I may not enjoy the siren hunts, but my brother comes first. What else can I do? Sit home and do nothing?”
Her father clapped her back, grinning proudly. “You wouldn’t be doing nothing, sweetie! You’d be keeping Vladdie company!”
Yeah… Jazz mustered all her will power to hide the cringe.
 “And besides, have you seen my parents when they’re at work? Yesterday they spent like 36 hours straight preparing the SAV with only one single break.” Jazz’s head fell back. “They’d probably forget to eat if I weren’t here.”
“Hey that’s not true, Jazz! Your mother and I are excellent at this work-life balance you always babble about. Yesterday we took two breaks instead of one. Progress!”
Jazz gestured to her father with an exasperated sigh. “See what I mean?”
Bruce Wayne hummed. His head tilted in thought as he sampled his mackerel. “Have you always been this responsible, Jasmine?”
“Of course! Look, I may be sixteen, but I very much possess the maturity of an adult. If it’s my job to wrangle this family into healthy habits, then so be it.”
Bruce Wayne appeared to have something to say about that. Jazz’s phone buzzed at that moment, having been turned silent earlier. It was Tucker, you miracle worker.
She shot up from her chair, twisting her expression into an agonisied grimace. “Sorry I think I’m having a bathroom emergency. I’ll be right back!”
Jazz dashed away, feeling perfectly fine in the stomach, except for her nerves.
“I have questions.” Damian told him. They were well on their way south now, Danny’s tail swishing away at top speed. Mostly the boys stayed silent, enjoying each other’s company and the rushing of water.
“Shoot.” Danny said.
“Are you a male? Or is this merely an assumption that others have made?”
Danny sputtered. The question almost knocked him off course with how sudden it was. “W-What? Why would that be a question?”
Damian hummed. “My brothers have taught me not to make assumptions. In addition, siren biology seems heavily based off of fish, many of whom are hermaphroditic in some way.”
“Uhh…”
“Which leaves us with the question. What am I to call you? For most of time together, I have been thinking of you as a male. Was that incorrect of me to do so?”
Danny’s eyes subconsciously drifted to his navel. Was he actually biologically male anymore? He’d always assumed so, but being a half-siren in a siren-hating down didn’t leave much time to learn siren anatomy in and out.
Had he been a girl this entire time? No way… No, he always acted the same as he always acted. If he was a boy before being turned, and acted the same, he could be a boy now, right?
“Uhhh yes. I think I’m a boy. Maybe.”
“For that matter, I would like to inquire how sirens reproduce. Surely the turning of humans is not the only way your species increases its numbers?”
Danny’s face heated to boiling. Blue blushes crept down his cheeks and covered his neck. “Maybe you could ask your dad about human reproduction first?” He squeaked.
“I am already aware!” Damian grouched. “I believe I deserve to know the specifics of the body which I have been forced into.”
“What if I told you I didn’t even know where siren babies came from?” Which was a sad, sad lie, bullshit that Damian clearly saw through.
“Lies!”
Danny threw his hands up, which threw off his balance for a moment. “You’re tiny. Can you guarantee your dad won’t sell me to the GiW for telling you this stuff?”
“I absolutely can.”
“Not the point! Please ask something else. You ain’t getting crap out of me on that front. I am like Davy Jones’ locker. Zip. Shut. Tight. Not happening.”
Damian seethed. This close, Danny could feel the kid’s chest vibrate with growling sounds.
“Very well. What are sirens classed as?”
“Inhuman non-sentient sea monsters bent on the destruction of humans.”
His back stung as Damian slapped him with his tailfin. “Biologically!”
“I dunno! Do I look like I have a marine biology degree?” Danny shrugged.
Damian lowered his head. “So you are uneducated.”
“Hey, rude!” Biology was never Danny’s strong suit. His mother was the one with the however many PhDs. And Sam was the one campaigning for animal rights every other week. He was more of a space guy! This was not new information to Damian! “You tell me! You’re the kid with the animal obsession.”
“I shall lay out the evidence. On the one hand, we possess scales, gills and fins, like all fish do. However, the heat your blood, despite the cold water suggests warm-bloodedness. Furthermore, I have paid very close attention to you, and the female sirens we met in your cave.”
“And what did you see?” Danny tilted his head back.
“The nipples.” Damian ground out. “Which suggests breastfeeding, which is a mammalian trait. However, I am not sure if my own are because of my former status as a human. That is why I must ask you this.”
This was definitely going to be awkward. Danny preemptively suppressed the cringe reflex.
“Do sirens breastfeed?” Damian asked. Danny blanked at that one. Yeah. That question was a hard no clue. “Have you ever breastfed?”
Damian. Oh Damian. Kids just say the darnedest things. Damian. Danny’s cheeks heated up again. He squeaked out an answer. “N-no! I’ve been on my own in the ocean.”
Damian narrowed his eyes at him. Did suspicion have a smell? Because Danny felt like it did, and he was smelling it.
“Do siren parents not take care of their children?” Damian finally asked.
Danny thought back to Youngblood, how Ember basically made him her younger brother (which made her teasing of him for having Damian around totally hypocritical). It was in this moment that he realised he didn’t know any sirens outside his normal enemies. 99% of all times he had interacted with another siren. Hell, any other sea person, was when he was fighting them.
“Danny? Danny?” Damian’s voice raised.
Danny shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just thinking…”
He sounded so pitifully sad in that moment. When a series of familiar whale calls breached the surface, he eagerly welcomed the distraction.
“We’ve caught up to the whale pod!”
Damian gasped, attention turned fully away from his interrogation. “Where are they?”
Danny carried him forward, surging to greet Damian’s new friends again. However, what he saw chilled him.
About a hundred feet away there was a small boat with a flat open deck, a dingy vessel with barnacles coating its hull, and men carrying harpoons and operating cranes, pulling in a net that thrashed violently. And on the deck, tied up by rope and netting, was a baby whale.
Damian swore in a language he didn’t understand. Danny swore too.
Damian’s fins shot ramrod straight. His teeth bared with an inhuman growl. His hand went to the sword sheathed at his waist. He itched to sink it into the bodies of these treacherous men.
“Wait.” Danny said. Wait!? What a preposterous thought. They needed to save Dorothea and her pod now.
“Are you insane!?”
His companion’s voice lowered dangerously. “You realise if we attack them, then the GiW will know, right? The whalers will call for help, or get to shore and it’ll be on the news. We’ll be hunted again.”
Damian did not hesitate. “Do you intend to prioritise our own safety over that of an endangered species being poached illegally?”
Danny shook his head. “Nah. Let’s go fuck them up.”
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the-witchhunter · 9 months
Text
DP x DC 50's High School AU... Or is it?
Just imagine if you will, a very aesthetic 1950's high school setting. The Waynes live in the idyllic little town of Amity Park, going to Casper High, and living their lives.
Dick is the oldest son, off to college but still stopping by to visit, all letterman jacket and smiles. Jason, the bad boy greaser is trying to finish up his senior year of high school, a little late, but spending time in Juvie put his life on hold. He's trying his best, spending time working on his motorcycle and hanging with his study buddy, Jazz Fenton. Tim enjoying high school life with his family, studying hard and enjoying photography club. Gee, Tim's life sure is perfect
or is it?
Tim can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. Sometimes, he remembers something else. He has memories of his life here, and they must be real, his family is here, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, and even Dick when he's back from the Teen Titans college. Wait... Dick wasn't in college, was he? Wasn't he a cop in Blood Haven? Was he the local cop? That's right, Dick is the local cop, all sunshine and feeding his eternal sweet tooth with donuts. How could he forget that? He loved his family! Sure, there had been some rough spots, like when Jason died went to juvie, but they were together now, a real family.
But sometimes Tim has dreams, of another time, of another place. But they can't be true, can they? YES! No, That made no sense. Thinking about it made his head hurt.
Then there was the matter of the boy in his class, Danny Fenton. He kept catching him staring. Danny would just look at him funny. Sometimes he would say weird things. Tim would write him off as just an oddball, but sometimes what he said reminded him of his dreams.
Tim wasn't sure what it was, but something was up. He was going to find out what it was, and maybe, just maybe, Danny Fenton was the first step to solving this mystery
or
Tim wished for a more idyllic life and to get along with his brothers while on a mission in Amity Park. One reality warping genie ghost later and now they're stuck in something like a 1950's sitcom with altered memories.
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pickleking8 · 1 month
Text
12 - Adoption Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be - Chapter Twelve
Words: 412 (very short chapter today, sorry)
Ao3 Link
Previous - Masterpost
I don't think there's any content warnings for this chapter, but let me know if I missed something.
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Danny was getting close, so very, very close. He sat on his bed. No, the bed. It wasn’t his bed, no matter how many nights he had slept in it, it was Jason’s, and he wasn’t Jason. He wasn’t. No, he was Danny. He liked stars and space, not “Pride and Prejudice", and loved his sister, Jazz, not these lunatics of siblings. His favorite color was yellow, not red (never green). 
That’s who he was. 
…right?
Right.
He squeezed his eyes shut, spots dancing in front of them as he cleared the thoughts. 
He’s not focusing on that. He’s focusing on the buzzing, the humming. He can feel it under his skin, writhing and squirming like worms. He squints, staring at a wayward ant resolutely marching across the carpet. Ants are brave, he thinks. So small, so fragile, but tenacious all the same. 
Focus. Come on, Danny. He’s focusing right now. On what?
His pinky. He’s focusing on his pinky, he knows this. 
He feels weird. Lethargic. It’s been too long.
It’s been too long, he’s lethargic.
The buzzing builds. Danny squints. An acorn plinks on the windowsill. It’s funny, he thinks, how acorns have little hats.
FOCUS. His pinky. His right pinky. 
He remembers this, this buzzing. When he first got his powers. Like his mind was swimming through molasses. Too much, too much, too much. Just too much. He was expanding, him, his awareness, his everything, and it was too much. He couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t-
He couldn’t keep up. 
Focus. He tastes watermelon. Sweet, a little mushy (overripe, maybe), juice dribbling down his chin. Why does he taste watermelon?
Ah. He remembers. The picnic, when he was seven. It doesn’t seem so long ago, now. Perhaps it’s still happening. Perhaps it’s always happening. Maybe, he’s still eating the watermelon. That’d be nice, he thinks. He was happy then. 
Happy. It was a good picnic, except for the flies. They buzzed. Buzz, buzz, buzz. It was loud, the buzzing, almost like static, like his brain was a broken TV. Buzz. It made him feel like he would vibrate out of his skin, like there were worms underneath. Writhing. Squirming. 
He hears buzzing.
FOCUS. The buzzing. The worms. The pinky. The power. 
There! His pinky. Invisible. He pushes it, slowly, through the blanket. Intangible. Good. He smiles. It’s bitter. Empty. 
It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.
He’s close. He’s so very, very, close. 
The buzzing doesn’t stop.
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Taglist: @tkiesai, @simplestoryteller
Hey! At this point I'm going to stop saying that I'm excited to get back into writing regularly and accept that my update schedule is usually about once every two months. But who knows. Perhaps the inspiration will strike. Anyway, I know this chapter is pretty short, but I felt that kind of fit it, so here we are. This isn't how I envisioned this chapter going but eh. Here. Have this. Thanks for reading!
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britcision · 11 months
Text
Hey guys
I have present for you
Not sure if there will be a WIP Wednesday this week since I’m con crunching and we leave on Thursday, soooo… this will tide you over I’m sure! The completed chapter 15!
Previous Chapter:
First chapter and AO3 link:
————-
I’ll Take The Highway
Time was almost slipping away too quickly in the milkshake bar, and Danny wished he didn’t have to keep an eye on it.
(Well. Seriously hoped. Even in the privacy of his head, he couldn’t make it a wish.)
He had to get Tucker back to MIT though, and back to Gotham in a reasonable time frame to get to bed before class tomorrow.
If he got to bed before midnight, there might be a chance for he and Jason to run to the Far Frozen in the morning. Or after, Danny’s classes didn’t run late. Or…
He was missing out on the fun today, trying to plan tomorrow. Much as Jazz would love him being more organised, he pushed it to the back of his mind.
They’d visit Frostbite soon. And find out how Jason’s core was, though Danny was beginning to think he knew. Here, when Jason was happy and relaxed? Not tensed, shut down, or angry?
Danny could definitely feel something he hadn’t before. Not exactly the same as another ghost, or any of the other halfas, not yet.
But it was almost like Box Lunch’s fresh core seen through a house of mirrors.
Maybe that was what had him so close to the edge today? It was taking some pretty serious effort not to react to even the mention of an old threat to Jason.
Jason, the sweet baby ghost.
And if his smile was a little sappy at that thought, well, that was no one’s business but his own. At least he had something to sit on for when his rogues started embarrassing baby stories.
Finally he couldn’t put it off anymore. Too much to do, friends to fly across country, and he still hadn’t found a good way to ask Waylon his question. He just… well.
He’d given Jason all the server info, the stuff about who his rogues were, how he beat them, the things they’d learned about the Infinite Realms. They’d even shared some stories around different bits.
That didn’t exactly explain what he wanted to ask Waylon about. And it really wasn’t something he was comfortable sharing just yet, even if he already knew it was dumb.
Jason was a good guy. Who hung out with Batman, who was apparently an asshole. He wouldn’t judge Danny for having some dark and fucked up stories in all the zany ones.
Fuck, maybe Waylon could tell him how Jason would react. It was gonna come up, it’d have to, and Danny really would feel better having someone else’s opinion.
He was reluctant to interrupt their good time, another story devolving into laughter, but it was getting into the afternoon and… well, he also had no idea how long this would take.
“Hey, uh, by the way. I’ve gotta head out in a bit, dropping Tuck back off in Massachusetts, I just wanted to talk to Waylon for a minute first? In private?” Because if Danny had learned one thing?
Direct worked best.
It worked now, Harley nodding along and hopping up, cartwheeling her way along the table and out of the booth.
“Say no more, Danno! C’mon, Jayjay, I wanted ta catch up with you on somethin’ too, so this works perfectly!” She declared cheerfully, giving Jason a fond tug to his fluffy white streak of hair.
Jason shot Danny a look that was half commiserating, half curious as he slid out of the both after her, but Danny was too busy staring into an imagined hellscape where Harley met Jack Fenton.
Fuck Dan, the world couldn’t handle that.
By the time he came back to himself, he and Waylon were alone in the booth, the big man watching him curiously.
“So, what’s on yer mind, kid?” He asked in a low voice, folding his arms on the edge of the table and leaning in.
Secret villain hideaway or not, this wasn’t something Danny wanted just anyone overhearing, so he beckoned Waylon closer to his end of the booth first, tucked into the wall.
The big guy slid his way surprisingly delicately down the seat, then leaned in again, watching Danny expectantly.
Which was when Danny realised he shoulda probably thought about a good way to put this.
Blunt it was gonna have to be.
“So… you… Harley said people called you Killer Croc before you ever hurt anyone?” He said in a rush, flinching at how bad it actually sounded said aloud.
Waylon… did not have eyebrows to raise, and it was really fucking weird that he was noticing that now, but it was definitely what he’d been doing, and Danny was distracting himself again.
“They did,” Waylon agreed a moment later, his voice low and even. Guard up, but not defensive. Not closing the topic off.
Danny huffed out a sigh, and found he couldn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Found himself intently examining the diamond pattern on the formica tables. His own hands, twisting in front of him over that pattern.
“You… you became what they said you were. A monster.” The words caught in his throat, hard to spit out and shit he thought he was past this.
It had been years.
A scaled green hand covered his, and Danny found himself surprised by how smooth the scales were. Far from soft, but not rough. Almost smoother than the table.
“Who called you a monster, kid?” Waylon asked softly, his voice gruff with something too close to understanding.
Danny’s head snapped up and he shook it quickly, sucking in a deep breath.
“Oh, no one. Not for like, a really long time now. And they said sorry and everything, it’s not that. It’s… you gave into it. Let them make you something wrong and dangerous, and you stopped. How did you stop?” He asked quietly, finally finding it easier to look at Waylon’s face.
He looked surprised.
**
Finding Jason had been harder than usual. He’d never turned his phone back on after last night, and Bruce was still wrestling with one of his least favourite (and most common) side effect of a concussion; light sensitive headaches.
Even with the screen brightness all the way down, it was hard to even look at the batcomputer while he waited for Constantine to arrive.
None of his usual tricks were helping, spikes of pain jabbing behind his eyes every time he tried to scan the cameras for Jason’s presence.
It was Babs who found him in the end, taking her lunch at the library late to help him out. She had whole programs to scan the security cameras of Gotham for her, trained to recognise any bat or rogue from any angle.
False positives happened, but usually didn’t take more than a look to confirm or deny. They were extremely accurate.
Bruce would know.
He had copies of the same programs.
They just weren’t running properly.
He was probably still tired. He’d been pushing himself while injured, as usual, and as usual Alfred would be eager to tell him he’d been overtaxing himself too hard to work efficiently.
And then Constantine was late.
By the time the magician arrived, Bruce was regretting having taken a break to sleep at all. He should have sorted this out last night, before ever calling Jason.
They could have picked a time to meet, and while Bruce was fully aware Jason might have just told him to fuck off, he might not have. Especially if Bruce had promised to leave him alone.
He knew better than to ask Jason to introduce Danny to Constantine.
Barbara had generously kept an eye on Jason in the interim, and by the time Batman and Constantine were ready to go he seemed to have settled in Freeze’s place.
The Frozen Fields. Named for his wife, who Bruce’s top scientists still wouldn’t be able to save.
Along with Harley, Waylon Jones, and Danny.
Of course he was with Danny.
Half the city seemed to be intent on frustrating him today. They’d taken the Batmobile, and while he tended to only drive it in emergencies (and after dark), it still barely sped the journey through the city traffic.
It always felt wrong, sitting and waiting with the rest of the cars in the Batmobile. Didn’t match the “lurking justice in the shadows”. Which Constantine was quick to remind him.
Bruce just gripped the steering wheel tighter, sucked in a deep breath, and nearly bit his tongue when they finally edged up to an intersection only for the light to turn red.
**
Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.
Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.
And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.
He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.
If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.
But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.
Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.
Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.
Didn’t mean he had a good answer.
He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.
This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.
So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.
“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.
Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.
“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”
His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.
“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.
Waylon chuckled and shook his head.
“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”
Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.
“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.
It felt good to laugh.
“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.
Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.
“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.
“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”
Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.
“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.
Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.
“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”
Lines like being a cannibal.
Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference, not a need.
For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.
Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.
Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.
“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”
He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.
The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.
Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.
He’d come to a decision. Good for him.
“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.
“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.
Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.
**
Jason didn’t exactly object to being led out of the bar by Harley; Danny wanted to talk to Waylon in private.
Jason had figured Danny had something to ask the guy about. He hadn’t exactly expected not to be part of the conversation, but that was fine.
He’d know if Danny got into trouble. Fuck, Danny could handle any trouble Gotham could dish out, probably. And the rogues had some basic manners; not starting shit in Freeze’s place was one of them.
Penguin might put the squeeze on and make your life uncomfortable if you lit up the Iceberg Lounge. Dr Freeze’s cold shoulder was a lot more literal, and he didn’t do “proportional response”.
So yeah, he could be cool and give Danny some space.
It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Harley wanted to talk to him either, although he still didn’t see the point. But he let her guide him around the side of the building to a back alley anyway.
“Still fine, Harley,” he said before she could get started, both hands raised in front of him.
She gave him an all too knowing look and hopped up to sit on the dumpster. Put her about a head taller than him. Not that he cared.
“Sure, kid. You’ve been goin’ through a lot though, so I gotta ask; is there anythin’ ya wanna talk to Auntie Harley about?” She asked in her sweetest voice, interlacing her fingers under her chin and batting her lashes.
Jason snickered and leaned against the other side of the alley.
Shit, he wasn’t even annoyed with her play acting. The pit was a happy little puddle in his chest, all sunshine and roses.
A week ago he’d have walked away. Been pissed at wasting his time, getting in his way. How much of that had been because of the Lazarus pits, the problems with the ectoplasm he’d apparently been supposed to be solving?
Was that why nothing had ever been enough? Why he always had to keep pushing? Carve himself a patch of Gotham, keep going. Cut the crime out of Crime Alley, not enough.
Take up with the Outsiders, keep himself busy, rushed off his feet so that when he fell into bed for a couple hours a day he didn’t even dream?
When was the last time he’d taken a breath and just… relaxed? It all felt so long ago, but it had barely been a week.
It just. His whole life had unclenched, like it was a muscle he’d finally stopped using.
Fuck, maybe he should talk to Harley about it.
He got the feeling she knew though, those eagle eyes tracking his every move. They’d never really hung out, but he was uncomfortably aware of how well she’d known him.
How much of him was still the boy she’d known?
She was waiting for an answer, and all of a sudden Jason wasn’t sure what he’d say. Knew that if anyone in the world understood, it just might be Dr Harleen Quinzel.
He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet her eyes. Fuck, he was getting as bad as Bruce.
And if that thought didn’t kick him up the ass…
“You ever wake up one day and realise your whole life’s been going wrong?” He finally asked, glancing up from the corner of his eye.
She’d dropped the cutesy act, leaning forward with her arms braced on the edge of the dumpster, her face professionally calm. Open. Sympathetic.
“Think I might know just a lil about what that’s like,” she agreed softly, and Jason snorted.
“Yeah. Well. Turns out ever since I came back from the dead I’ve been haunted. Literally. And no one ever noticed.”
He hadn’t even come all the way back, but he couldn’t say that. Not yet. But maybe he could share some of the rest.
Harley nodded slowly, giving him her full attention. Just waiting for him to go on.
It kinda felt like being under a microscope, but not in the cold, analytical way Bruce did that always pissed him off. Like she really cared, and was looking for all his broken parts so she could help him fit them back together.
Fuck, if his kid self had ever known he’d one day trust Harley Quinn over the whole Justice League…
Shit, he didn’t even know how much she already knew.
“The pit rage… it’s a psychosis people get, coming out of the Lazarus pit. Makes you angry, violent, stronger, like a blind rage. For most people it goes away. Mine didn’t.”
He almost wanted to laugh, bitter and sharp.
“Because it wasn’t just the psychosis. I’m not fucking weak, I’m not fucking broken, there’s something else living inside me and it made me so fucking angry all the time…”
The frustration was building again, but this time it was his. All his, not a bubble, not a stir, and part of Jason thrilled with it. He could feel however he wanted, just him.
He cut it off though, forcing himself to relax before Danny could notice. Could worry about whatever he was projecting in his aura.
He could kinda still feel Danny’s, which was new. Not brushing against his, not touching like they were close, but he was aware in a way he hadn’t been before.
Like if he shut his eyes he could point in exactly the direction Danny was standing.
“Danny’s the only one who noticed. Well, really, he’s the only one who could. It’s a ghost thing, and he… he got me help. I feel like myself for the first time since… since I came back.”
He hadn’t even noticed how much the background rage burnt through him until it stopped. Until he could look at his family and see their prodding for what it was; concern.
It was still surprising him, and maybe would for a while. Kinda hoped not though. It wasn’t the most cheerful train of thought.
Seeing that he’d run out of words, Harley gave him a moment to find more, then reached over and ruffled his hair. It was barely a strain in the cramped alley.
“Kid, anyone with two eyeballs t’ rub together can see Danny’s real good for ya. So why’s Bruce tryin’ so hard to keep ya apart?” She asked gently, and Jason snorted.
Rolled his eyes and folded his arms, caught himself doing it, and forced them back to his sides.
“Not rubbing his eyeballs together?” He asked dryly. Harley just snickered.
“Please, if we could get ‘im ta stop overanalysing everything that’d be the miracle. So what’s got ‘im on edge?”
Jason hesitated for a long moment, thinking about it. Finally he shrugged; as always, Bruce was a mystery to him. The man who’d taught him all the tricks to pick apart any mystery. Except himself.
“No idea. We played a prank on him and the Mansons at the gala like we told you last night?” He offered, already aware it wasn’t likely to be the answer.
Harley shook her head in agreement, which almost threw him off.
“Nah, you’re right. The whole making-out-in-a-closet shtick is classic, even if he didn’t see through it yet he’s never cared about you boys smoochin’ before,” she agreed, then sighed and tugged him in to press a kiss to his forehead.
“Whatever his problem is though, it is his problem Jason, an’ what he pulled at the gala has nothin’ t’ do with you or Danny. I already told ‘im off about not talkin’ to ya and I’m gonna do it again when I catch him. Right now I just wanna hear you say you know it ain’t your fault,” she told him firmly, cheeks held between both hands.
Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. And the rising lump in his throat.
“I know Bruce’s bullshit isn’t my fault, Harley,” he grumbled through smushed lips. Harley squeezed his cheeks a little tighter.
“Then say it anyway. It ain’t your fault Brucie has a bug in his ass, and ya ain’t done anything wrong to deserve it.” She was firm as the wall behind him, utterly unrelenting.
And she could go on for hours, if memory served. Long enough for Danny to come out and see. That was why Jason told himself he gave in.
Nothing at all to do with the way her words ached and bled a gentle warmth into the icy void in his gut where the anger still roiled.
“It’s not my fault B’s got the emotional capacity of a wet newspaper. I don’t deserve his helicopter bullshit any more than anyone else,” he told her obediently, doing his best not to be too sarcastic.
Harley placed a kiss on his nose and released him.
“That’s my good boy. Now, more about this haunted thing. You boys got a plan?” She asked sharply, head cocked as she watched his face.
Cheeks red, Jason leaned back against his wall and pretended it made him out of reach.
“We do,” he said curtly, looking down at the trash strewn ground. Trying to explain it now would take too long, Danny would be out soon.
Of course Harley noticed, nodding thoughtfully and leaning back, kicking her legs.
“Well, if ya ever want to tell me more, you’ve got my number. An’ I’ll get Brucie off ya back for a while, even if I’ve gotta call in the Boy Scout. Whatever you aren’t tellin’ ‘im, don’t let ‘im rush ya,” she told him firmly. Jason had to smile.
“Aren’t you the one always telling us to communicate?” He asked half rhetorically. Harley grinned and hopped off her dumpster, making her way to the front of the alley.
“It only works if ya wait til you’re ready. Pushin’ an’ rushin’ only makes it worse,” she explained airily, stepping out into the street.
Turning, and freezing like a hound on a scent. Eyes narrowed, she patted Jason on the chest as he stepped out after her, not turning her head.
“Jason darlin’, be a dear an’ run get Auntie Harley her bat. The bike’s parked ‘round the back,” she said ever so sweetly, and that tone combined with the narrow eyed glare meant Jason knew exactly who she was looking at before he turned.
He did it anyway, eyes widening as he caught sight of Batman, in full gear, coming down the street towards them. Accompanied by John Fucking Constantine.
Had he seriously come to chase him away from Danny in person? In fucking costume?
The anger surged, his and the pit’s, held back only by the small woman in front of him. The dainty hand on her chest, that’d turn into an iron bar if he pushed it.
Sure, she couldn’t actually hold him back, but she didn’t need to. Whatever Jason wanted to say or do to Bruce, Harley could do a whole lot worse.
Anger melding into a vicious satisfaction, he turned straight back down the alley with a spring in his step.
**
Bruce was a little relieved to arrive outside the bar and see Jason already there. Batman walking in wouldn’t have been out of the question, but he’d rather avoid the theatrics.
Danny not being in sight didn’t come into the decision one bit.
But then Harley said something to Jason and he turned away, leaving immediately. Bruce sped up, planning to follow Jason down the alley-
“Hold ya horses, Batsy,” Harley snapped, stepping directly into his path. He could have gone around her, certainly, but he stopped.
If there was even a chance he could get her on side, that would help immensely.
“I just need to talk to Jason,” he said in Batman’s low growl. Constantine had stopped too, well back of whatever was going to happen.
At least he wasn’t a complete fool.
Harley folded her arms, giving him her very least impressed look.
“An’ if the words you’re sayin’ ain’t “I’m so sorry please forgive me I’ll never do it again”, ya don’t actually need to. Ya need ta speak to me.”
Bruce almost frowned at her words. Why now? They’d spoken before, but she’d seemed satisfied. What had changed between now and their last conversation?
Batman’s face remained impassive as ever.
“Harley. It’s important.”
“He wants me to give the kid a magic checkup,” Constantine put in from behind him, still well back. He waved at Harley when she glanced his way.
Harley’s eyes narrowed for a moment and then Jason was jogging back down the alley, holding her bat.
What the hell had changed since their last conversation?
Pinning Constantine with a piercing glare, she held it for a minute before turning her attention back to Bruce. Snapping her fingers in front of his mask before he could even open his mouth.
“Uh uh! Johnny needs ta talk to him fer that, not you. YOU need to come talk ta me. Now.” She held out her other hand without looking, and Jason slipped the bat into it.
Had he really upset Jason that much at the gala? He’d thought he understood about the public apology, but this felt… well, worse than he’d expected.
More urgent. More vehement. She was more angry than she had been.
He’d gone wrong again, some time between now and then, and he had a Justice League meeting in an hour. Less, counting in the travel time back to the nearest zeta terminal.
Did he have time for this?
Jason was glaring at him, flat and unfriendly, but with a decided undercurrent of anticipation. Bruce’s presence would only make Constantine’s job harder.
Ignoring the part of him that thought the magician deserved to have it a lot harder, he nodded and refocused his attention on Harley.
“Fine. Here?” Better to get this over with. He could put aside all of his personal thoughts and feelings for the meeting, but at least he’d have answers.
Harley gave the surrounding street another sharp look, then shook her head, crooked her fingers, and led him into the alleyway.
“We’ll go ‘round the back. You’re bad for business,” she told him archly, and Bruce followed without a word.
He didn’t tell Jason to stay and speak to Constantine; he was self aware enough to know that would have the opposite effect. The magician would just have to sort himself out.
Part of him almost hoped she would actually use the bat this time. It served its purpose as a visual symbol, but everything made much more sense when people just wanted to beat him up.
Navigating their emotions and separate interior lives and expectations was… messy.
**
Constantine and Jason stared at each other for a long moment after Harley and the Bat disappeared down the alley.
Then Constantine sighed and nodded after them.
“If they’re goin’ round back, we can take this off the main street. If you don’t mind?” Not that the boy had much choice.
They’d caught him unmasked, which raised again the fuckin’ question of why Batt-o was so intent on being masked up for this one.
Maybe he just didn’t want to change. It looked like a lot of kohl on under that mask. Probably took a while to switch in and out.
Jason narrowed his eyes back for a moment, then shrugged. His whole posture still screamed annoyance and aggression, but moved back into the side alley anyway.
“Whatever. Not too far though. I need to hear if my friends leave.” There was something about the agreement that didn’t quite sit right for John.
Too easy. He didn’t have much (any) experience with the kid, never having willingly gotten near a revenant, but… well, this? This was weirdly passive.
When he’d seen the kid coming back with a weapon, that had made sense. He’d half expected Jason to take a swing personally; the dead-or-dead-aligned tended to have a different understanding of acceptable violence.
Handing it off to Harley was basically trading a gun for a nuke, but he didn’t seem at all upset that it hadn’t been used. Hadn’t gone for Batman’s throat, no matter how much Harley seemed to think he’d be justified.
What the hell did the Bat do now?
Something was off with Jason, something that made Constantine almost rethink his earlier guess.
Kid dies, shows back up a couple years later in a storm of blood and violence, demanding revenge? Yeah, that was classic revenant. Physical body, jacked beyond anything the kid shoulda grown into? Ditto.
Even the rage the Leaguers reported checked the boxes, but a revenant shouldn’t be this calm. Not in the face of any kind of threat.
Good news, really; he probably wouldn’t go for Constantine’s throat. John was more than happy with that, though he did regret getting the Bat all worked up.
Not that there was another version of the story Batman might take better, mind. Whatever the hell Jason Todd was, the kid wasn’t human anymore, and for ol’ Batsy the rest of the details didn’t much matter.
They got out of sight of the main thoroughfare, Jason leaning back against a wall with his arms folded and a smirk on his face that was just all challenge.
Constantine didn’t rise to it, brows furrowing as he raised a hand and murmured the beginnings of a spell.
Felt it instantly crash around him, smacked down by a power so titanic he’d have fallen if the side of a dumpster hadn’t caught him. A power so old, so wrought with death, so fucking familiar that it blacked out every sense.
No way in fucking hell any kind of fucking revenant, wraith, zombie, ghost, anything could leave that taste in his mouth. No, that? That was a personal signature.
And not something that could be done lightly either. A power like that… no, this power, Constantine knew exactly whose it was.
This kind of power, reacting this strongly? This instantly, even here on Earth? That was the full force of the Infinite Realms, which had to mean…
Eyes wide and shaken, John scrabbled at the lid for support, staring at Jason. Who actually looked more than a little surprised himself.
It took him a moment to find the words, longer to steady the shake in his voice.
“You… you… holy fucking hells, Jason, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve bound your fuckin’ soul to-”
“The same guy you sold yours to?” Jason drawled, raising an eyebrow.
And alright, fair, that was a pretty good fuckin’ point, but Constantine was well aware he was a dire warning, not a good example.
Damn hard to argue that to a smugly reclining something-or-other that had bound himself so tightly to that same king that John couldn’t even do a gentle magical probe.
He’d been planning on being polite and everything. Noninvasive, Jason wouldn’t even feel it.
Shit, had he felt the spell shut down too? Constantine was about to ask, but Jason wasn’t done talking. Or smirking, looking distinctly amused that he’d shut the mouthy magician up.
“Did you know he owns your soul eleven times by now? That seems a little low to me, surely you’re down to hocking scraps,” Jason noted with a dry chuckle.
Constantine shrugged defensively, well aware that his battered soul was nothing to write home about. Still mostly trying to work out what the fuck was going on.
What use would the Ghost King have for a bat? A use important enough to fold Jason, who’d only be risen six years, into the high court?
Sure, the kid was good, he’d proved that in Gotham’s underworld, but to the Realms? He was barely an infant, and cuttin’ off heads would not impress there.
“No one buys just a piece of a soul. Every deal’s for the whole thing, which is why they keep me alive rather’n letting me kick it and tearin’ up the bits,” he explained distractedly, giving Jason another slow once over.
The good news was, nothing about the guy smelled like a revenant. There was power there, sure, a hint of a magical signature just on the borders of recognizable, but he couldn’t quite pin it down.
Jason hummed in acknowledgement, or maybe interest, but Constantine needed him to keep talking. Needed more clues to work out what the fuck this guy was.
“Pretty sure I haven’t had anyone make the same deal eleven times though,” he commented cautiously, trying to appear as casual as Jason while watching him closely, wishing he’d accepted some bat-training, “most people only make that mistake once.”
“Yeah, I asked about that,” Jason agreed with a dry chuckle, and the bottom fell out of Constantine’s stomach.
A position that let him backtalk the king of the Infinite Realms? Triple not good, not least because that lot were volatile and fuckin’ possessive, but not more so than goddamn Batman.
“Apparently people handed you over for some kind of tax season. You’re a low value trading card over there at this point.”
And that knocked every other thought out of Constantine’s head as he straightened, unreasonably affronted.
It’d be fucking nice to be low value. People might ignore him.
And since when did the Infinite Realms collect taxes?
“Low value? Princes of Hell are fightin’ over my damn soul, it’s the only thing keeping me kickin’,” he protested, and Jason snickered.
Gave John a smug, superior smile.
“And ten entities gave your soul up for tax breaks. Let’s face it, it’s not like you have rarity on your side,” he pointed out smugly.
“It’s still only one soul,” Constantine pouted idly, his mind suddenly spinning mile a minute with the implications.
The kid couldn’t have had this much presence last night, whatever else was true. John would have noticed.
It might just have been now that he knew to look for it, but Jason practically glowed with the essence of the Realms. He’d also somehow not just gotten himself bound to the Ghost King, he had a position where he could question them.
And have his questions answered, if not hugely coherently. Maybe that was just the translation through Jason, though.
That could be a good thing. A good sign at least, for the temperament of the new king. Pariah Dark never listened to questions by all accounts; people never got the opportunity to ask. He just conquered.
Of course, John knew enough magical entities to know that “willing to talk” did not mean, friendly, helpful, safe, or even “not prone to constant and complex lies”.
Thing was, he could handle liars. Tricksters. Anything of the sort, usually, cuz if nothing else? Being willing to talk before shooting meant Constantine had a chance to confuse them.
He was bloody good at that, all else notwithstanding. Almost his most useful talent.
It might be worth trying to find a little more about the Ghost King. Doubly if Jason was willing to help, but that’d have to be careful. No way to know what the kid had accidentally sworn to on that soul bond.
Hell, how was he gonna work out what the kid even was with magic off the table? It’d be back to the fuckin’ books and Undead 101.
At least he was still in his own body. That put a limit on the possibilities, but there were still a lot of options. Bats was going to be unbearable.
Because worse yet… the one thing John did know, with absolute certainty, was that the kid was getting stronger. If he hadn’t manifested any powers yet, it was just a matter of time.
Whatever Jason was, whatever deal he’d managed to pull, the damn halfa wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Something was feeding the power in him, whatever had yanked him back to the land of the living to start with.
Plus side? Batty could get off his ass about the kids hanging out. Jason had already taken a fuckin’ jet across whatever influence hanging out with a ghost could do, and pushed right the way to the other side.
He might as well be fuckin’ drinking ectoplasm at this point. Kid could carry Danny around on his back and not make a lick of difference.
Course, if it was the halfa who got the kid to make his deal… well, Batman would have another reason to worry about them hangin’ out together, but the damage was already done.
It wasn’t a soul buy, not to John’s experienced eye. Not a leash around the kid’s neck, not a claim stamped into his being. If anything, this was worse.
Somehow Jason had gotten himself so tightly wrapped to the Ghost King that the other’s power all but flowed in his veins. Even from here, far from the Realms, Constantine didn’t even finish the spell before it was smacked down.
That… that was new. Nothing he’d ever seen before, and he was well used to possessive metaphysical assholes who didn’t like anyone else touchin’ their shit.
Fuck, did Jason even know?
Constantine sucked in a breath and gave damn near instantly on even trying to form a tactful question a bat would understand. Kid was playing in his kiddy pool now, like it or not, and John had to know how deep he’d gone.
“So what deal did you make?” He asked bluntly. Not that Jason apparently minded in the least, still smirking as he gave the magician a cool once over.
“Y’know, I’m pretty sure it’s rude to ask. Not discussing paychecks and all that,” he drawled casually, eyes still dark with that barely covered aggression.
Constantine rolled his eyes.
“I had three princes of Hell gettin’ a little too cozy and a cursed rock lookin’ to turn the world to pink tourmaline. The Ghost King was big enough to shut ‘em up and let me push the rock to a different dimension where it’s never gonna be our problem again. Now quit bein’ an ass, I know a lot more about this kinda shit and I can tell ya if they hid any clauses.”
That did shut Jason up, the kid’s eyes widening for a moment like he hadn’t expected Constantine to share.
Tough titties for him, John already knew Batman was gonna be a bitch about this so doing the due diligence early? Pretty much their only hope.
He considered it longer than John thought was justified, since it was inarguable. John Constantine, soul selling expert. He should have business cards made.
Finally the kid shrugged. He still looked prickly, defensive, but he was listening.
“Well I didn’t sell him my fucking soul.” Which.
John stared at him, mouth agape. Snapped shut and narrowed his eyes.
“Kid, you could not be more marked if you wore a neon sign. You signed something over, the Ghost King ain’t the sort to give prizes for free.”
A Ghost King Jason seemed to think was a he, so that was a useful little piece of intel. He’d definitely know better than John if they were already on ask-questions stage.
Jason scowled and shrugged, arms still crossed.
“Lucky me. Protection from big scary human wizards, for the low low price of my service. And some help with my Lazarus problem,” he added, as if the last was the only part he though worth mentioning.
Constantine sagged back against the wall, sinking down to sit on the alley floor. Bracing his elbows on his knees he ran both hands through his hair, holding his head up.
“Great… just fucking great,” he muttered, voice muffled by his new position. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he was pretty sure it’d come out a sob.
Hysteria beckoned.
Jason made another noise that might almost have been concern, and Constantine forced himself to suck in a breath. To keep it together.
Forced his head up so he could glare at the kid who now looked just way too confused.
“You get that that’s worse, right?” He snapped, eyes narrowing. “You get that selling yourself into service is fucking worse?”
Jason glared back down at him, drawing himself up like size and muscle was gonna impress a magician.
(It might have if Jason was a decade or two older, but not the way the kid intended.)
“What the fuck d’you think will happen when he takes your soul?” He snapped back, aggression rising fast enough that Constantine forced himself to stop again.
Deep breath in. Hold. Out.
One more in. Hold. Out.
He got to ten, the kid watching him with visible confusion, deflating the longer John went without pushing back. Yippee for him.
When he thought he had his voice under control again, John forced himself to his feet.
“I sell my soul, and if anyone ever actually claims the damn thing they can do whatever they want to it for eternity. It’ll fuckin’ suck, kid, but the one thing they can’t do, no matter who it is?”
He just sounded tired now, which only wrong footed Jason even more. Why had he even gotten out of bed at all?
Maybe if he left now he could just go back. Tuck himself up in the House of Mystery, feed his League communicator to something pandimensional, and just hide for a while.
The Bat would probably come after him.
Taking another bolstering breath, John did his best to sound calm. Not patronising. Because the kid damn near definitely had no idea.
Which was why people should leave magic to the fuckin’ professionals.
Catching Jason’s eye, he held it, hoping to impress the seriousness of what he was about to say into the kid’s soul.
“They cannot compel me to action. They can try all sorts of force, all sorts of fucked up shit, but I get the last say. They say jump, I say fuck off, no jump. But selling service?”
Jason’s eyes had widened now, and John could just see all those little wheels turning. Well, set the little fuckers spinnin’ faster.
“They say jump, you’re on the way up before you can ask “how high?”. I dunno what you think you signed up for, kid, I dunno what deals with the new king are like cuz I didn’t fuckin’ ask. But you get a copy of the damn contract and bring it back to me. I’ll see if there’s anything we can do about it.”
It was the only logical option, especially with an entity this powerful. Constantine was betting the kid’s hatred of being used, being controlled, would make him agree even if he hated it.
He probably could have been nicer, though.
Jason’s eyes flashed, actually flashed a bright, ecto green as he shot John a glare that promised bloody dismemberment.
There was something else too, something that definitely wasn’t there a second ago but filled the alley now. Something hot and angry and powerfully vicious, something that wanted his blood.
If there were space to back up, he would have. As it was, he let his hand slip behind his back, ready to teleport. He had no doubt that any kind of binding would meet exactly the same fate his inquiry had.
Even in civvies, Jason Todd cut a menacing figure as he stalked the two steps across the alley to put himself directly in Constantine’s face.
“For fuck’s sake, I am not a fucking child! I don’t need you to hold my hand, I don’t need your fucking help, and I don’t need your fucking permission to live my fucking life!”
Constantine actually leaned back, his head brushing the wall behind him as Jason shoved a finger into his face, his every muscle taut with barely restrained violence.
“Like you just fucking said, you don’t know shit! So maybe, just fucking once, the whole fucking lot of you sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and stay out of my fucking way!”
This close, Constantine could feel Jason’s hot breath on his face. This close… something clicked.
He could feel Jason’s anger, projecting out of him in a way that definitely wasn’t human. Choking and visceral and absolutely nothing like the pulsating bloody rage that forced itself down his throat.
There was something fucking else inside Jason. Something that tasted of the Infinite Realms and wanted his head on a stick.
Something that wasn’t the Ghost King. Didn’t carry the touch of his claim.
John was about to teleport away, fuck Batman and all of Gotham, when Jason turned around sharply and marched out of the alley. Almost like the kid was running.
Slumping back against the wall, John Constantine closed his eyes and breathed in the city smogs, only happy that none of it actively wanted his blood.
**
Harley let Batman precede her around the milkshake bar to the parking lot at the back, a quick glance confirming that they were alone.
For the best, really; anyone present might get entirely the wrong idea.
Taking a casual roll of the wrist for added momentum, Harley took a quick shot at the back of Batty’s knee, stepping up quickly beside him to use the return swing to catch him in the gut.
Caught off guard, he crumpled, landing on one knee and glaring up at her.
“Harley…” he growled, and her eyes narrowed.
She’d done this the nice way last night. He hadn’t listened, so now they were doing it his way.
“Batsy,” she shot back, cutting him off quick and direct. Tapped her bedazzled bat gently off her other hand. “We had us a talk already this week.”
No specific times; not in an unsecured location. He’d know anyway.
From his silence, he wasn’t quite ready to admit it. But he didn’t try to rise. Conflicted, then.
Like that was new.
Harley pressed the bat gently under his chin, tipping his head up to face her.
“And yet somehow, despite you assurin’ me you’d listened real close, a mister Jason Todd is out here tellin’ me you tried to ban him from hangin’ out with his new boyfriend?” She asked sugar-sweet, her expression all danger.
She could just about see the moment it sank into his head. Even with his actual eyes covered, that cowl was still plenty expressive.
Kinda freakishly expressive. Not ideal for the crime fighting to her mind, but what would she know? She much preferred committing the crimes.
He tried to argue, frown so deep he’d have wrinkles within the day.
“This has nothing to do with that, the Fenton boy is dangerous to his condition-”
Harley cut him off by poking the end of her bat almost into his mouth, her eyes narrowed. And sure, she was bein’ delicate with his head outta concern for that concussion, but there were limits.
“An’ what d’you think ya know about Jason’s condition that a half dead kid don’t?” She asked sceptically.
Batman hesitated. If he pushed the bat away, they’d have an actual fight on their hands. One he might let her win, if he just needed the tussle.
She’d never known a man so eager to have someone put him on his ass, and so incapable of ever lettin’ it actually happen. Well, other than Jason.
Musta run in the family.
Bruce sagged back, sat on the cracked asphalt of the parking lot.
“Constantine believes that Danny’s energy may strengthen something inside Jason. Something dangerous,” he explained, still in Batman’s rough growl.
She was gonna get him a vocoder. Just for shits and giggles.
Fuck, was that why Jason wore the whole helmet for Hoody? Now that she thought of it, there was a voice changer in there.
Two cranky little peas in matching muscly pods.
She dropped to sit cross legged on the ground across from him, bat laying in front of her. Talkin’ again, take two. Time to make it stick.
“Have you actually talked to Jason about this?” She asked sceptically.
The eye slits in the cowl narrowed. Harley was not impressed.
“Have you talked to him at all, since he an’ Danny have been hangin’ out?”
Bruce glared at her for a moment longer. Did not fold his arms or pout, but she could tell he wanted to.
“I spoke with him last night. He’s irrational, angry, unwilling to listen to reason…”
“He’s sick of ya tellin’ him you know what’s best and not listenin’ ta what’s wrong,” Harley corrected flatly.
Watched his shoulders sink just a little. As much as he could deflate in the suit. Even his growl lost most of its sandpaper.
“He said Danny was taking him to a doctor. More exposure to the realms could make things worse. Kill him, or give the pit another chance to take over. I can’t…” he cut himself off, voice tight and garbled around the forced gravel.
Harley watched him for a long moment.
He’d come out in the suit. It had to be for a reason.
She couldn’t ask the questions that would break him apart in the suit. Couldn’t guide him through the revelations and the grief. Not if there was somethin’ else he had ta be doing.
Another damn time then. She’d get ‘im here again.
“Batsy.” Her voice was gentler this time, and drew his face back to hers. She made sure to catch his eye. “He already died. Seems ta me somethin’ in there never really let him go.”
She didn’t know much about the Infinite Realms… or anything at all, really. All this magic and mayhem and ghosts was fun an’ all, and she always liked to play, but it wasn’t her wheelhouse.
Didn’t have ta be. She knew how to listen to the professionals.
Bruce had stiffened, the mask of Batman pulling back, and she cut him off with a raised hand.
“An’ you only have ta look at Danny ta know that whatever all that is? Jason ain’t the first. Won’t be the last. Someone’s gonna know what went wrong, and Jason believes they’re helping him. You need to believe Jason.”
“But he could be wrong.” It was barely more than a whisper. Low and grinding and completely devoid of Batman growl, like it’d been pulled right out of his soul.
Harley gave him a gentle bop on the head with her bat.
“Then we deal with that then. But all ya doin’ by bossin’ him around an’ not listenin’ is pissing him off and makin’ him more likely ta run right off to these Realms. He’s not the sweet kid followin’ ya shadow anymore, Batsy. He’s a man, and he gets to make choices. And mistakes.”
This sure as hell wasn’t one of ‘em, but Bruce had never been good at taking that on faith. He had to be shown, and he’d never stop waiting for the tables to turn.
Which was how he usually made things worse. But he did at least know that.
He still looked mutinous, scowling across at her, so she gave him a slightly harder bop on the shoulder.
“Batman, listen ta me. I know you mean well, but Danny makes him happy. All Jason’s seein’ right now is that he’s happy, an’ you wanna take it away.”
That hit harder than any of her blows, though she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t known him so long. His whole body stiffened, sudden hesitation in even his breathing.
Harley stared him down through it, then nodded in satisfaction as his shoulders lowered, just a fraction.
“I can’t lose him again, Harley,” he whispered, barely audible even less than a foot away.
She gave him an even harder bop on the other shoulder.
“Then stop driving him away. You ain’t even said sorry for the other night yet an’ now you owe him another apology. There’s always that things might go wrong; he might get hit by a car crossing the street. The only sure thing is that if you keep treating him like this?”
She leaned forwards, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face her. To look at her, and see how serious she was.
He was reluctant to meet her eyes, but even under the white outs Harley knew when she had someone’s attention. Good. He probably knew what came next.
“You will lose him, Batsy. And it’ll be no one’s fault but your own.”
**
Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.
It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…
Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.
Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.
Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.
It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.
The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.
He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.
He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.
Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.
All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.
Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.
He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.
“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.
Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.
“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.
Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.
Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.
Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.
For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.
Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.
They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.
Trouble didn’t; barely.
Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.
Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?
Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.
It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.
Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.
Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.
The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.
“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.
The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.
“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”
Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.
“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”
Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.
“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.
Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…
“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.
Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.
“Phantom Express it is then.”
And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.
So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.
Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.
And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.
Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.
Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.
“So, where do you wanna go?”
As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.
About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.
Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.
It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.
And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.
Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.
(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)
The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.
Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.
Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.
Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.
“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.
Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.
Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.
Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.
Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.
“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.
The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.
Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.
With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.
“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.
Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.
“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.
“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.
Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon.
It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.
“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.
Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.
“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”
That sounded about right.
Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.
Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.
“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.
Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.
There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.
“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.
The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.
“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.
Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?
Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.
How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.
Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.
It didn’t take long.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.
The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.
His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.
“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”
The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.
“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.
A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.
Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?
Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.
Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.
(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)
In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.
Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.
He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.
“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.
It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.
“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.
That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.
Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.
“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.
“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.
About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.
“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.
Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?
“It’s nothing.”
Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.
“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.
Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.
“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.
**
In his heart of hearts, Bruce knew why Harley was taking him to the parking lot.
If there was any chance of witnesses, any possibility of being overheard, he couldn’t listen to her. Not in the suit. Couldn’t show what any of his rogues (who hadn’t met Harley) might misconstrue as weakness.
If there was a single place in the city which could be trusted to be unsurveiled, it was the parking lots to his rogues’ side businesses. They had their own professional courtesies.
He appreciated it, in his own way. The closest thing to privacy they could have outside the Batmobile at the moment (and even then his children could listen in).
The baseball bat had been… well, not a total surprise, she’d had Jason fetch it in front of him and it wasn’t likely to be an empty prop twice in a row.
Still, he wasn’t as prepared as he could have been, and the first two blows hurt. His fold to the ground was mostly genuine, though part of him was definitely leaning in.
Concussion be damned, he’d been taking an emotional beating this week. At least exterior bruises would show him when they were healing.
But he hadn’t had time after her warning to do anything but head to the meeting.
Had he?
All he remembered was the seriousness of her face, the weight of absolute certainty in her words.
He would lose Jason, because he himself had pushed him away. Because Jason didn’t think Bruce trusted him. Thought Bruce would take away his chance at happiness.
Maybe Danny had been right. Maybe Jason didn’t even know Bruce loved him.
Things were so much worse than he’d made himself believe.
He knew he’d risen when his alarm went off, giving him ten minutes to head to the zeta tubes. Found Constantine again in the alley, since the man was with him now.
Couldn’t remember talking to him. But that wasn’t unlike himself anyway.
There was a hidden zeta tube downtown, only just far enough to justify the Batmobile, but Bruce would rather not leave it to drive home from Freeze’s place anyway.
He set it to return to the cave as he climbed out, at the end of another dark alley. The sun was already beginning to sink, painting the city in yellow and gold.
Constantine tapped carefully on the hood of the Batmobile between them, then jumped back as the car drove itself away, swearing. By the time he finished dusting himself off, Bruce was watching him again.
“Are yer back in there?” The magician asked cautiously, his own voice rough.
Bruce took a moment to assess his colleague. Never exactly tidy, Constantine looked more dishevelled than he had before Bruce and Harley left him.
Jason’s checkup likely hadn’t gone well.
Of course it hadn’t. Not if Jason felt the way Harley said… no. The way he’d told Harley he felt. Because Harley asked.
Something deep and weary in him tried to pull his shoulders down to sag, but he ignored it with the aid of long practice. Just gave Constantine a stiff jerk of the head.
“Hn.”
The man rolled his eyes, turning and heading for the defunct phone booth disguising the zeta tube.
“Great, monosyllables. Well, since yer back, listen up.”
The results of his examination, if Jason even let him perform it. Still, maybe the man would have something? It wasn’t like he couldn’t have cast a few spells without Jason knowing.
“First of all, yer boy ain’t a revenant.”
That jerked Bruce to a stop, his brows furrowing as he turned to face Constantine head on again. The magician had pulled a cigarette from somewhere, likely because they were heading for the Watchtower.
Bruce didn’t bother trying to stop him. He was too busy trying to process.
Constantine didn’t look happy either, so this probably wasn’t actually good news?
“What do you mean?” He growled, stepping closer and lowering his voice to avoid eavesdroppers.
Constantine rolled his eyes, waved his free hand, and the smoke from his cigarette crackled briefly in the air.
“None o’ that cloak and dagger shit, Bats. No one’s gonna hear us. But the kid, Jason? He’s not a revenant. Not sure what he is, actually, an’ not too keen on lookin’ deeper.”
It might have been the longest Bruce had heard him speak without saying “fuck” since the Amity Park question came up. The fact that he looked distinctly uneasy made that less reassuring.
“Why not?” Bruce growled, a little grateful to be able to step back and away from the smoke. Harley had left his head be for the most part, but it was already pounding again.
Constantine fixed him with a slow, speculative look.
“See, here’s my issue,” he began, raising a hand to cut off a growled protest and pointing directly at Bruce. “You? You’re Mr Worst Case Scenario. Can’t stop pokin’ at shit til it gives you an answer, or bites yer head off.”
That was certainly true. It was something that Alfred… Selina… Clark… Dick… Diana… almost everyone close to him had complained of.
Bruce wasn’t convinced it was a shortcoming, but he knew it about himself. It had been an underlying theme this whole investigation; Constantine telling him things because otherwise he’d go poking.
So what changed?
“You’re not gonna like whatever I tell you. An’ I could try an’ temper that by lyin’, or I could treat you like a fuckin’ adult on yer promise the you don’t go punchin’ inter shit yer don’t understand.”
Constantine stared expectantly at him, taking another long drag on his cigarette.
Ah. Waiting for Bruce to choose an option. As if there was any doubt?
“I swore your oath,” Bruce reminded him gruffly, and Constantine rolled his eyes again.
“An’ I’m fully aware you’re a tricky piece of shit that’ll try and work around it the second it comes up. That’s why it’s generic. You hear about the Ghost King, you back the fuck off, shut the fuck up, and run. That’ll include any of yer precious reports.”
He took another slow drag of his cigarette, watching Bruce the whole while. Bruce stared back, unsure what he was looking for but determined that he’d find nothing.
Shit. So much for having Red Robin and Oracle prod around for him. Though he had been planning to warn them to be delicate.
It barely occurred to him that showing nothing might tell Constantine more than anything else before the magician sighed and shook his head.
“Listen, B. The shit you need to know? Actually, really need to know? Jason’s… safe. There’s not a damn thing in the Infinite Realms that can hurt him now, whatever he is. I’d even put money on him bein’ demon proof, with the wards on him now.”
And wouldn’t it be so, so nice to believe that Constantine had put those wards on him? Bruce could feel the wish for it, a flight of fancy he rarely allowed himself.
Bruce let himself indulge in the want to believe for about the same length of time as that ominous pause.
“What wards?” He asked flatly, the low rumble not exactly hiding how he felt about the situation, but since he’d almost rather yell, he considered it fair.
Constantine, again, was not impressed. He folded his arms and prodded at Bruce with his still smoking cigarette.
“See, there’s that prodding. I’m trying to do this the nice way, B. Give you answers instead of just shutting you down, but you aren’t gonna know everything without a couple decades of practice, and you need to get over that.”
The magician took another drag, closing his eyes tightly for a second. When he opened them again, he looked entirely uncompromising.
The stern professional Bruce had only seen previously in life and death situations, and ones getting worse at that. Was this situation that dire?
“I could speak a word and make you forget this whole damn thing. Four more, and you’d have no choice about droppin’ it,” Constantine growled, clearly bitterly regretting not choosing that option. Bruce’s eyes narrowed in response.
He’d clearly ruled it out, but he hadn’t wanted to. Whatever he didn’t want to tell Bruce, Constantine expected him to have a powerful response.
Which meant that is was very bad, but also that Bruce’s natural response would make things worse. He could work around that.
He chose not to address the remark at all, just waiting for Constantine to continue. The man stayed silent just long enough that Bruce wondered if he was changing his mind on trying to make him forget.
This was why he hated magic. But he’d broken through it before. No spell could stand up to intense, detailed scrutiny, and he would surely have plenty of clues to remind himself when the problem was with his own son.
Finally Constantine sighed, flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it under one heel. He seemed to have come to a decision, new purpose under the fear he’d been hiding since he first arrived.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed, heading for the zeta tube. There was just a little more spring in his step.
Bruce frowned and moved to block him.
“The wards,” he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. This conversation was important.
Constantine looked surprisingly chipper actually, raising his chin to give Bruce a sudden and almost startling smirk.
“Oh no, big guy. You had your chance to promise to behave like an adult, so we’re going with option three.”
He’d noticed Bruce’s lack of comment. Obviously, but Bruce hadn’t really thought he’d need to say anything.
Investigating was what Batman did. He knew how to do it tactfully, and without stepping on toes. He just wouldn’t promise not to do it.
None of which explained Constantine’s suddenly improved mood. It was almost the same satisfaction he’d show when he’d worked out how to pawn an unpleasant job off on someone else.
“And that is?” Bruce asked warily, suspecting he wouldn’t like whatever made this not Constantine’s problem. Constantine waggled a finger at him, like he was nothing more than a naughty child.
“I let you ask questions, after Wonder Woman promises to keep yer in line.” He said it with the finality of a lead weight, and it dropped through Bruce’s chest like one.
Shit.
Diana… Diana knew him far too well. If Constantine convinced her of whatever gave him this level of caution, she would camp in the bat cave to stop him if necessary.
Diana didn’t tolerate what she considered risk. If Bruce could convince her he was right instead… she could be a very useful ally. And she had always liked Jason.
Jason adored her. Wonder Woman had always been his favourite hero, even as a child. If Diana asked him, he might even agree to a consultation.
Bruce still didn’t know what had happened with today’s consultation, and apparently he wouldn’t even find out until they spoke to Wonder Woman.
He could extrapolate from that alone, frankly, even if Constantine wasn’t visibly rattled.
Bruce stepped aside somewhat reluctantly, letting Constantine step into the zeta tube first. They could technically fit in together, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to play sardines.
The magician’s vehemence was troubling him, as was his conviction that Wonder Woman would be the answer. It was possible that Bruce had miscalculated the scale of the threat they were facing.
Whatever had warded Jason must be touchy enough to dislike any form of questions, and powerful enough to have its displeasure matter. And if it would be able to detect the questions being asked…
Contrary to popular opinions, Bruce did know how to temper his investigative instincts when called for. People only had to ask.
And.
Impress on him. A few times. That they meant it.
Honestly if they just told him why and what to expect, set some limitations and boundaries, it wasn’t like he was unreasonable. He just liked to verify data through his own sources.
Justice League Dark were a perfectly reputable source when he had to involve himself with magic. He could cross reference things between other members if he needed to check Constantine’s intel.
The unfortunate fact of the matter seemed to be that however little Bruce liked it, he did now need to learn more about magic. He’d been content to leave it to the experts for as long as he could, but…
But it now concerned one of his children. His second son, the one he’d lost.
At the very least, he needed to understand enough about the Infinite Realms to know how to keep Jason safe. What he would need, if there was anything they should be doing for him.
Not that the JL Dark had bothered to let him know when they thought Jason was a revenant. That might have been nice, even if apparently he wasn’t.
He’d already planned to start with Constantine’s attached reading on the Infinite Realms, and the Ghost King in particular for his new researches.
(Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Bruce stepped into the zeta tube a little faster than necessary. Was that his oath? On just the thought?)
He could get information on these specific wards too. Cross reference with Zatanna when she was available. Perhaps contact Dr Fate.
The Justice League Dark had their own sections of both reference materials and secured artefacts in various bases around the world.
Studying those should be a sufficient compromise; he wouldn’t reach out to the Infinite Realms directly, not until the Anti-Ecto Acts had been dealt with.
Then they could get in touch with Jason’s mysterious doctor, provided he was willing. Have the dismantling of the acts as a show of good faith.
He’d have to ask Constantine about a sufficient apology too. And mention the acts themselves; somehow there just hadn’t been time today.
Stepping out into the Watchtower, Bruce was maybe just possibly anticipating the magician’s reaction, in a dark way. Let someone else have a bad day for a change.
The poor man had been so upset with the idea that Bruce might ask questions about the realms. The fact that the United States had declared a kill order on all its occupants was not going to go over well.
And all that sass and defensive aggression could be pointed at someone other than Bruce for a while.
Actually? He should wait until Constantine was sitting down. He could add it to his meeting notes, bring it up to the whole League at once.
There would be someone on site if the magician actually fainted.
Or if Bruce’s head actually exploded.
Bruce made a mental note to check their medical supplies and defences, in case there were any unpredictable reactions. He could swing by the infirmary before they got started.
Giving Constantine a quick parting nod, he turned away from the hall and walked quickly towards the infirmary. Just to check in.
Today’s meeting was just the Justice League, with Constantine as the sole representative of JL Dark; Dark’s members all seemed to know about the Infinite Realms and Amity Park already. They didn’t need the briefing.
They’d have to read Bruce’s meeting notes now though. The same ones he was fully aware most members of the League just ignored, considered wasteful paperwork.
They expected to be told directly if something was important. As if he had all the time in the world, and they had no personal responsibility.
The lights thrummed softly as he walked, all the little noises of the satellite’s systems ticking over in perfect order helping Bruce settle into his purpose.
Jason’s report had been thorough, and though Bruce could easily see the bias around his son’s words… in this case it was more than justified.
The wording used to describe Jason and others like him in the acts contained less expletives, but were no better. The veneer of detachment only made the disdain shine through more clearly.
As if his son were beneath contempt. If Jason were to be believed (and Bruce would confirm with Constantine and Shazam) then most of his family were ecto-contaminated.
It was almost nice to have a tangible problem to solve. An enemy he could face and defeat in simple, easy manoeuvres. It was unlikely to be a physical fight, but that hardly mattered.
The delicate machinations of politics were better left to Wonder Woman, Aquaman, damn near anyone but Batman. No, Bruce Wayne was far more influential in that arena.
A little money in the right places, press coverage, a big “himbo with a heart of gold” performance. They weren’t his preferred weapons, but he knew they were effective.
And for Jason, there was nothing at all he wouldn’t do.
Purpose and the time limit combined hastened his step, his cloak billowing around him as he stalked the halls of the Watchtower. The infirmary was empty; always good.
Their stocks were full, and there were three nurses on duty that Bruce had personally selected. He trusted all of them, and none looked worried at his visit.
Batman was well known for overpreparing. It always came in useful.
He was just making his way back towards the meeting hall, feeling markedly better himself with a firm goal in mind, when Superman rounded the corner ahead of him.
The man of steel was heading his way, worry writ large on his face. If he’d heard Bruce’s talk with Harley… actually, if he’d been able to overhear Constantine’s talk with Jason, that would be very useful.
Bruce prepared a few brief words to reassure his friend as succinctly as possible, and get them both moving back towards the meeting. They could actually talk afterwards.
He never got to say them. Superman ignored his little nod of greeting and hurried up to him, standing close enough that they couldn’t be overheard. Blocking Bruce’s path.
A thrum of dread wormed its way back into Bruce’s heart as he looked up into his friend’s earnest, deep blue eyes.
Clark kept his voice low, urgent and concerned as he whispered five words that shattered the world.
“Bruce? I can’t hear Jason’s heart.”
—————————
😈
Now quick, for extra bonus points, who can name what was supposed to happen at some point in the last two chapters and didn’t? This is your chance for a treat from the beginning of the next chapter
Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 2 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer er @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation n @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna a @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook
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piived · 4 months
Text
Justice is Swift (Vengeance is Sweet) — Ch.2 Shitposts/Teasers
master post || <- ch.1 memes || ch.2
ch.2 memes without context in honor of the upcoming update of jisvis ;)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bernard: Yeah we have another boyfriend, he’s the best and we love him very much! :D
Danny, very used to poly trios and the chaos they bring: Well fuck.
Tim and Bernerd, distraught but ready to throw hands: How the fuck is the cute twink homophobic this is such a tragedy
Danny, finally realizing what he said: WAIT NO IM GAY TOO AND MY FRIENDS ARE POLY I LOVE THEM SO MUCH IM JUST INSANELY SINGLE AND LONELY IM NOT AN ASSHOLE I PROMISE LOOK AT THEM THEYRE MY PRIDE AND JOY IM SO SO CHILL WITH YOU HAVING ANOTHER BOYFRIEND AND WHEN CAN I MEET HIM—
Bernard and Tim: Oh he’s just a dumbass that’s fine
Danny: Yeah you guys would love my friends! I’ll have to introduce you all when they visit!
Danny, thinking about Tucker and Tim in the same room with unlimited access to Wayne Tech: … Wait.
Danny, realizing that Conner and Sam would find a way to start a campus wide protest over something despite neither being students: ACtually—
Danny, realizing that Bernard and Val would be no help because they are enablers and enjoy seeing their partners cause chaos: Fuck.
Danny: Yeah, I take it back, you guys are never allowed to meet. Ever.
Danny: sends selfie with tim drake to tucker lol he’s going to shit himself
Tucker, receiving said message: Oh my God I just shit myself
Tim: What the fuck is that?
Danny: My phone?
Tim *grabby hands*: Please I must see
Danny: Oh Tucker is going to be so fucking happy
Bruce, seeing a black haired blue eyed child with parental issues and a heroic drive: Alfred get the adoption papers ready please
Jazz, getting ready to start biting: Hands off you bastard I raised that child and I will shove those papers so far up your ass—
Sam: Look what you did, Danny.
Sam, gesturing to Tucker catatonic on the ground: You fucked up a perfectly good nerd.
Danny: He was like that when you got him.
Tim: If you’re going to crash my interrogation at least stay quiet?
Jason: Can we do it in his apartment?
Tim: Why?
Jason: hiding the takeout container behind his back Uh, less chance of him running?
Tim: … Fine.
Jason, excited to have a reason to be at his crush’s apartment: *fist pumping*
Jason: Blatantly flirting with Danny in the middle of Tim’s very important investigation
Tim: No! He was my friend first, back off!
Jason: But he’s cute!
Danny: You think I’m cute? :’D
Tim: Fuck, he’s fallen for the trap already.
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could you write a soft scenario of poly lj and jason please?
just a quiet morning at the mansion where the 3 of them wake up and have breakfast together (with Y/N preparing their favorite meals)
I had to do HCs instead of a scenario, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. I really enjoyed this request :)
It's one of those rare mornings where the three of you are able to sleep in, where none of you have any obligations for the day and you're free to rest and relax as much as you'd like. They often wake up before you as they don't technically need sleep, and so they rest beside you in a dormant state, waiting for you to finally wake up, waiting for your arms to wrap around them, for you to snuggle up to them and for the three of you to embrace and cuddle up. It's everyone's favorite way to wake up, and delightfully saccharine kisses will be shared as the three of you procrastinate leaving the warmth of bed, content to just rest and enjoy each other's company. 
Everyone else in the mansion is hustling and bustling about, and so you all take your time to have a likelier chance to have the kitchen to yourselves, and luckily this morning you do. You all make your way there, dressed in the fancy matching robes Jason made for all of you. Jason will take his place at one of the kitchen islands, Jack will pour the three of you some orange juice, and you will set up shop at the counter to start prepping some pancake batter, as it has become a tradition to have some nice, fluffy pancakes on days like today. The two of them will sit at the island, having idle chitchat with you as you prep breakfast and begin to cook it, with you standing across from them and leaning over the kitchen island to exchange some smooches when you get the chance. When the pancakes are almost done, Jason always preps toppings, ranging from different fruits to whipped cream, and chocolate, strawberry, or maple syrups. 
The three of you will sit at the kitchen island in peace together, shoulder to shoulder as you indulge in the yummy pancakes together, customizing them all as you go. Jack often likes to brighten up the morning with some jokes, and Jason prefers to start off his days with different gossip and drama he's found floating around lately, and you're content to rest between them and comment on the different topics they bring up. Some mornings, like this one, Jason likes turning on some calming, relaxing jazz for all of you to listen to, taking breaks in your conversation for the delightful ambiance of the music to wash over you. You're in no rush to eat or clean up, taking your time and relaxing in the comfort of each other's company. 
Sometimes Jack might make you all some hot coco after breakfast if you and Jason are craving it, and you'll all retreat back to Jason's room to freshen up and get dressed for the day, whether in usual clothes or pajamas more suited for lounging about the mansion, and you'll curl up on his large sofa together, hot chocolate in hand as you rest together. These are the best mornings for the three of you, where there are no plans or expectations, where you all go with the flow at a relaxed pace and just take your time together, letting it pass gently and slowly. Maybe you'll go out later, or maybe you'll stay curled up and turn on a movie or a show, or perhaps just lay there in quiet peace. There are no expectations on a day like today, and those are the most wonderful of days the three of you think to yourselves, indulging in some of Jason's sweets and freeing yourselves of any worries. It's rare that days like today happen, and you're grateful for every single one you get. The romantic peaceful nature of resting together like this is treasured by all of you, and you find yourself hoping for time to freeze for just a bit longer as you listen to the two of them get into a silly little disagreement about things that don't even matter, as Jason sighs and Jack laughs, both of them curling around you. Today is a day for love, rest, and care, and you'll all take advantage of that. 
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