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mokulule · 6 months

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Almanac - Chapter 1

Fandom: DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Masterpost Summary: Summoning extradimensional beings was never without a cost. Jason didn’t consider himself particularly knowledgeable when it came to magic, but that he knew. Desperate situations however called for desperate measures and the Justice League was desperate with Trigon suddenly allied to ghosts of all things. Summoning the Ghost King in that context even seemed like a sensible choice.

For better or worse John Constantine was the expert on those kinds of deals.

At least when his information wasn’t out of date.

Chapter 1 - September 23rd Fall Equinox

The summoning circle blazed in tall green flames. John grit his teeth against the terrible heat. Sweat ran down his brow, but he barely even dared blink. Across from him Zatanna was equally affected. This was like no summoning he’d ever done before. Normally the circle and the ingredients in a summoning ritual would do most of the work, that was the whole point. But this, John thought, as he doubled down on his hold on the magic, this was like riding a dragon. It was almost like the Ghost King really didn’t want to be summoned.

What else could cause this?

But they couldn’t give up, the fate of the world depended on it. Zatanna was not looking good, John didn’t suppose he himself was looking chipper either right now, but he had done things to increase his magic power Zatanna never had, because she was too good, and she was flagging. John growled, he’d be dammed a hundred more times if he lost her to this ritual.

Come on you bloody bastard!

A green rip opened in the middle of the circle with a terrible screeching sound. There was yelling and ears being covered behind him by the Justice League, but John couldn’t focus on that, it was not over. They were nearly there. A flickering dark shadowy form was getting sucked upwards through the rip. Wind rushed around the room, throwing papers and small objects around the room; The bucket of stag blood they’d used for the circle splattered onto Green Lantern judging by the sound of disgust. As long and tiresome as the ritual had been as suddenly it was over. Like an elastic band finally snapping, the shadow was pulled all the way through, the rip closed and the flames died.

“ ̵̨̜̩̜̖͈̺͈͎̜̩̻̖͔̗̺̳̘͈̳̖̩͂̄̏̇͂̂̃͒͌̊̓́̿̽̽̀̚͜ ̶̧̡̢̜̯̘͔̺̻̖͚͚͍̪̼͙̲̭͌͛̈́̈́̆̀͝N̵̢̢̧͓̩̱̮̰̪̘͙̹͍̪̤̼̺̑̀̓̔̔̍̂̍͛̈̈́͋͛͆̆͌̌̃̀̄̕Ơ̵̡̱͕̬͕͎̞̞̟͔͇̽̀́̇̐̂͂́̈́̈́̾͜͠ͅ ̷̢͖̯̰̙̥̤͔̹̜̦̙͙̲̪̲̯̗̙̦͓̜̓̋̂͋͘̚͝ ̶̭̺̣̻͖͗̍̔͂ ̶̡̰̞̹͇͓̫̜͖͛́̀̒̃͆̀͑́̅̂͌̿͐̚͝͝.”

The word rung in the sudden silence like a bell, cracked like glaciers, skittered across their mortal senses like small needles. John fell to his knees clutching his chest. It was so cold it was hard to breathe. Teeth chattering he forced himself to look up. The shadow coalesced into something with too long limbs, too many joints, claws, teeth. It had gained a blazing white flame and underneath there were two pools of green.

It observed them with an intensity like a thousand eyes on them, then it drew in on itself, getting smaller until it was more person shaped and the cold disappeared.

John gasped in relief. He wasn’t the only one. He looked to Zatanna, she met his eyes with a pale and tense nod. She was alright.

“Aaaaargh!” The frustrated scream had them quickly focused back on the circle. The green pools, now more eye shaped glared back at them all.

“The fucking Justice League of course, who else would summon me to save the world?” The shadow for lack of better words paced back and forth in the air, then spun on John. “And you John Constantine should know better.”

There was a pool of dread in his stomach and every single backup plan vanished from his mind as those toxic green eyes held him trapped. “If you have a problem that calls for the assistance of a ghost, why do you not ask a ghost you know? Why in the Realms would you summon the Ghost King? Of all the bullheaded…” The angry words devolved into an angry growly mutter too low for anyone to hear the words, but it was a sound that grated in their bones. And the Ghost King resumed their pacing.

“Deadman is-“

“I’m talking about Phantom,” the king snapped.

“Phantom?” John repeated baffled, meeting the equally baffled eyes of Zatanna. The friendly spirit from small Amity Park? “No offense, your Majesty, but Phantom is small fry compared to this.”

“Full offense,” The King growled. “I am Phantom.”

With a bright flash, suddenly there was Phantom. The surprisingly human looking ghost, who would have fit in perfectly amongst the Justice League standing outside the circle with his white highlighted tight black suit and the logo on his chest. Right now his usually friendly face was drawn into a glare.

It was then, when it clicked with a small delay in his brain that Phantom was the Ghost King, that John Constantine realized how much he’d fucked up.

Oo o oO

Danny was livid. He had done his very best to resist this summoning, but of course summonings weren’t meant to be resisted and with John Constantine and Zatanna Zatara two of the Justice League Dark’s most powerful magic users being the ones reeling him in like a fucking fish, it was no wonder he hadn’t succeeded. This was a disaster. Why did they put him in this situation?

“We thought you were a city spirit…” Constantine trailed off helplessly.

And that had Danny gaping. They thought… how? why? He was confused, but most of all-

“Excuse me, did I introduce myself as Amity? No, I did not.”

Of all the stupid things to think. City spirits were some of the proudest ghosts around, to even think a city spirit would introduce themselves by anything other than their name was beyond moronic. And last he checked his hometown wasn’t called freaking Phantomville.

“We thought, since you never left the city-“ Zatanna cut herself off when Danny swiveled his glare on her.

“It. Is. My. Haunt,” Danny hissed enunciating each word clearly, the lights in the room flickered. “Did you not at all think it was weird that a city spirit-“ he made quotation marks around the words- “was visible to regular people?”

“We figured it was because of all the death magic in the air,” fucking Constantine said and Danny keened in despair. It was a sound just at the edge of human hearing, and most of them really couldn’t hear anything of it aside from a very high pitched tone that had the entire group flinching. Superman though, not only flinched but also took a step back covering his mouth, he looked sick.

“You could have asked, like normal people. What did I do to give you the impression you couldn’t just ask?” He dug his hands into his hair and tugged, doubled over and took a deep calming breath.

“Okay,” he forced his voice chipper, “so we’ve established you’re morons and now you’re all going to pay the price.”

There was a moment of silence as they all took that in and Danny’s eyes ran over their faces: Constantine, Zatanna, the big seven of the original Justice League and would you look at that Batman brought a bunch of his brood along, one of which was an actual child. Danny whimpered.

“I don’t really understand the problem,” the Flash stepped up to the circle in, well, a flash. “If you can help us then what does it matter that we summoned you instead of going to you?”

“It matters,” Danny said rubbing the bridge of his nose, “because you’ve gone and made it official. You didn’t ask small time ghost hero Phantom for help saving the world, you went and summoned the High King of the Infinite Realms.” He waved a hand allowing the green flaming crown to manifest over his head and the ring to appear on his right hand, the long starry night cape settled over his shoulders with a familiar weight like freshly fallen snow.

“The fact that I am one and the same is irrelevant. Intent is the most important thing in magic.”

“So we can just unsummon you?” The Flash suggested, looking from Danny to Constantine and Zatanna who both looked away.

Danny chuckled humorlessly. He touched a hand to his chest pushing energy into the chains binding him, so they could all see the chains going from him to each and everyone of them.

“We are already bound in a pre-contract, that’s what a summoning is.”

Oo o oO

Jason looked down at the Lazarus green glowing chain, going from his chest to the Ghost King. From each of his brothers including the brat’s - the brat, who actually looked scared. No matter, his maturity and upbringing he was still just a kid. Anger flared in his chest, but before he could do anything Bruce stepped forward.

“John, what is the meaning of this,” he demanded. To the League, that was just the gruff Batman voice. To Jason and the birds, the undertone of fear was obvious. Nothing set the old man off like a threat to his birds. Jason would know, he’d taken advantage of that before.

Constantine grimaced, “well, you see-“

But the Ghost King interrupted him. “No, let me explain. John Constantine is the greatest con man that ever lived. He could sell sand in the Sahara. He’s swindled demons and gods alike. He’s somehow managed to sell his soul like fifty fucking times, making the day of his eventual death into a jurisdictional nightmare of interdimensional proportions.”

He paused to take another deep breath - something Jason noticed with bemusement was a bit strange for a ghost.

“Ol’ Johnny here probably expected Pariah Dark, the previous Ghost King, the kind of mad hat conquerer who’s been locked up for millennia for unspeakable crimes against the Realms - just the kind of proud, single minded sod that’s ripe for John’s kind of swindling. Whose only spells of freedom came from summonings like this, which were thankfully rare, ‘cause very few people are stupid enough to summon the Ghost King.”

“But me-” he touched his chest, “there’s a reason I’m not locked in a sarcophagus. For one I don’t deal in souls or eternal damnation, secondly even if I did I wouldn’t touch that soul of yours with a ten feet pole.”

“Congratulations, Jackass, you managed to summon the actually ruling Monarch of the World In Between Worlds at full power and there’s absolutely nothing you can offer me. I deal in equivalent exchange. Nothing matters to you as much as the world, except your own skin and your ownership of that is questionable at best. That leaves your… friends? Or coworkers? Is that what they are? to pay.”

And with that the King turned to them all, green eyes both angry and resigned.

“Better start thinking about what things you’re willing to give up, I’ll be friendly and let your offerings stack, the world is heavy enough as it is.”

An unsettled murmur rustled through the assembled heroes. It was one thing to sacrifice in the heat of battle, but this was something none of them had prepared for. They had all expected Constantine to handle things, they all were just present for safety’s sake. It was certainly why Jason was there or he wouldn’t have been in same room as the heroes.

Ever since his revival he’d had somewhat of a magic resistance and the All Blades were the best bet if something went south. That had been the idea at least, but this had gone south in the entirely different direction. And, Jason suspected, the All Blades probably wouldn’t even work on the king. The impression Jason got from him wasn’t evil at all; he had purposefully directed their thoughts in the direction of physical possessions.

With the room stalled in uncertainty, Jason felt anger rising. They were wasting time when the solution was obvious. He’d said he didn’t deal in souls or eternal damnation that still left a wide range of interpretation to Jason’s thinking.

“Oi, Spooky!” He stepped forward tilting his head up in challenge, “You can have me, - a willing sacrifice gotta be worth a good deal.”

There were gasps all around him but he didn’t look just kept eye contact with those glowing Lazarus eyes as they turned to him in consideration.

The was a sudden cacophony of protest from his brothers, hands grabbing onto him pulling him back but he stood his ground.

“J-Hood, back down right now!” That was Bruce’s voice and for a moment there, it was almost like he actually cared, but then he was just ordering him about like usual. Then Dick was in front of him and even he couldn’t ignore that.

“Jay, no,” he hissed lowly horrified, “what’s the matter with you?”

The was a small tug in Jason’s chest at that.

“He said he didn’t deal in souls,” Tim pointed out urgently.

“Todd,” was everything Damian said, but there was a vulnerability there that was rarely in the little brat’s voice.

Jason couldn’t help but smile. It was heartening that they cared at least a little. He set a hand down on Damian’s head and ruffled his hair roughly. “Take care of my books, brat.”

“NO,” That was Dick, and he held on tighter, Jason couldn’t shrug him off, but as it turned out he didn’t have to.

There was a tug on the chain in his chest and he slipped right through his brothers and flew right up to the king inside the circle until he hovered level with the Lazarus green eyes.

The was a cacophony of protest but it was somehow muted like background noise from here inside the circle and yet the crackling fire of the crown was loud in his ears. The inhuman Lazarus eyes flickered from Jason then behind him and then back again.

“You offer your life to the High Ghost King as a sacrifice?”

Jason shuddered, felt fear grip him at the wording, because that was what it meant. Truthfully he didn’t want to die, but he’d been there and he’d done that, and if he was to die again, at least those eyes held no cruelty. He was the obvious choice. He clenched his jaw and steeled his resolve, the world would do fine without him.

“I do.” There was a momentary frown like regret on the king’s face before he looked to the wider room.

“Then with the consequences of that we have a deal, and I, High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, will save the world.” The chains leading to everyone but Jason burst into showers of tiny green stars.

“Come.” A white gloved hand was reached out to him, deceptively human if it wasn’t for the glow. Jason took the hand and next he knew the world turned into a green swirl.

The world solidified suddenly like a punch to the gut and Jason fell to his knees in loose sand. He gagged, but nothing came up from his empty stomach. Slowly he looked up, they were in the desert. In the distance was the nightmarish portal to the Dark Dimension Trigon’s forces were coming through. If only Raven hadn’t been hurt so early in the fight, but Trigon was working with someone else, someone Constantine had claimed was a powerful ghost and the combined forces were not something they had been prepared for. Even so there were heroes in the distance trying to hold back the hordes.

“What are we doing here?” He looked up to the King who was floating just half a foot off the ground and he was suddenly aware of the fact that he was kneeling.

“Figured the least I could do is show you that I uphold my end of the bargain. Stay here, this distance should be safe.”

With that the Ghost King flew off.

Jason had half a mind to try escaping, but as the first punch was thrown in the distance the futility settled in his gut. At least he could enjoy the show.

Oo o oO

“Daniel,” Vlad greeted him in his typical self satisfied drawl, “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Danny’s lips split in a grin. He wouldn’t be so satisfied in a moment. He flashed forward throwing a punch that sent Vlad into a crater in the ground. He looked down at the man who at one point had been his nemesis. Now he just looked sad and confused.

“I think you’ll find you miscalculated this time, Plasmius.”

Finally Vlad actually seemed to register that Danny was wearing the full regalia and what that meant. His face paled to white.

“No, your Majesty, please, have mercy,” he begged, folding instantly - pitiful.

Danny snarled, fangs and limbs growing and growing with sickening cracks, like the frozen surface of a lake when you’ve stepped too far. He was the darkness of space itself, too many mouths split into white fanged grins.

“A line was crossed today.” His words reverberated across the field halting all the combatants in place as terror gripped them. “You have been warned time and time again. Now a price has been paid, a deal has been made and you shall reap what you have sown.”

With that he swept across the battlefield dark and all encompassing leaving only the heroes standing cold and shaken as he pushed Trigon’s army and Vlad and his panicking ghost minions back into the Dark Dimension.

The portal closed behind him when he willed it.

The large horned guy in the armor who was shouting in outrage had to be Trigon. The Ghost King was bound in contract to save the world from this threat. He could technically stop now, the threat was ended they had no portal and those were not simple to make, but was the world really saved when Trigon still stood and his army was still whole?

No, the Ghost King did not think so.

It had been a very stressful morning. He would very much enjoy taking it out on these fools.

Oo o oO

It didn’t take long before the Ghost King reappeared, thankfully looking more human, though there was still a wild glint in his eyes as if the beast hadn’t quite been sated.

“It’s done then.” Jason said with resignation. The green eyes blinked down at him slowly and again a white gloved hand was offered as if Jason had any real choice in the matter. Annoyance that he wouldn’t just get things over with rose up and Jason grabbed the hand with more aggression than was maybe wise.

All he got in return was a bemused look, as if he was less threatening than a kitten. Which arguably, compared to the eldritch monarch of the death, he probably was.

The world turned into a green swirl again. When the world solidified he found that traveling this way didn’t get easier a second time. He was down on his hands and knees in plush red carpet, his stomach turned nauseously. Shit it felt like he really would puke this time.

Suddenly a cool hand touched his forehead, somehow easing enough of the nausea that he could look up.

The king was kneeling in front of him, a worried look on his face. And that had anger rising in Jason’s chest, because how dare he.

“Why don’t you just get it over already?”

Black eyebrows rose.

“Get it over with?” He had the audacity to ask.

“Just kill me already, stop playing with me.”

Any leftover amusement went out of the Ghost King’s face at that.

“Why would I kill you?” He asked flatly.

“Because I gave you my life? What else would it mean!"

"Your life belonging to me, does not mean I have to kill you, in fact that would be rather stupid of me.”

“What difference does it make? Aren’t you the king of the dead!”

The King shrugged. “Sure, but I don’t own my subjects. Death is the one thing that will free you from me.”

Jason paled, he hadn’t considered this. The Ghost King had said he didn’t deal in souls or eternal damnation, but a human life wasn’t eternal - hadn’t he himself thought there was a lot of leeway in those statements?

“No no no, I’m gonna stop you there, you look like I ate your favorite pair of slippers.”

Jason blinked, startled out of his spiraling train of thought by the sheer absurdity.

“Is that something you have experience with?”

“You’ll never know.” The king grinned back at him teeth definitely sharp enough to rip slippers to pieces. His features turned serious. “Now you listen closely. You did not offer your mind-“ he poked Jason’s forehead firmly- “your body, your soul or your service-“ he underscored each of the last three words with a poke to Jason’s chest.

He got up to his feet.

“All I own in capacity of King is your life. And so your life will be lived here with me, that is all. Wording is very important in magic.” With those words he strode down the hall, cape flaring out behind him.

Jason was left on the floor, mind reeling.

“You changed the wording,” Jason realized, because he had offered himself - all of him being implied. But the Ghost King had changed the wording when they made the deal. He jumped to his feet to catch up. It’s wasn’t hard, the Ghost King was actually rather short when he deigned to touch the ground.

“You changed the wording,” Jason repeated firmly, “you-“

“I already told you I’m not into the soul trade. Nor do I want any slaves, there’s enough of that mess leftover from the previous king.”

He grimaced at that.

He wouldn’t kill him. He’d changed the wording, so Jason’s will was his own. He wasn’t a servant or slave, or a soldier or anything. “So what then?”

“What then?” The king stopped and looked back at Jason bewildered.

“You own my life and you have no plan or purpose for me, what am I gonna do?”

His eyebrows drew down in a frown but Jason was not done. Indignation burned hot in his chest.

“If you are not going to kill me or have any use for me, why even bring me here? You could own my life just as easily in Gotham as you can here!”

There was a rumble, it sounded like it was in the distance but somehow Jason knew it was from the ghost king in front of him. His legs suddenly felt unsteady.

“You are here,” the King growled, “because idiots decided to summon me and you and your family are paying the toll for saving the world.”

The anger turned to ice in his chest. “My family, what do you mean?”

“I mean, Jason Todd, that you mean the world to them and if it wasn’t for that your sacrifice wouldn’t have been enough, you think too little of yourself for that.”

What? No! That couldn’t be right?

“You’re lying,” he whispered. It couldn’t be true. Jason was the one paying the price, not his family. It couldn’t be.

The Ghost King snarled, morphing into sharp shadows and glowing eyes.

“You dare,” his voice boomed from all around Jason and he clapped his hands over his ears.

“I have stretched-” he seemed to grow longer and longer into spindlier shadows, chittering and cracking, “stretched, as far as I can on this deal and you call me a liar!”

The last word rumbled through Jason’s bones like a bulldozer and he fell to his knees. Nothing existed for Jason in that moment but the pain and the voice- he had nothing left to do anything with, he could neither protest or apologize. Only feel and hear despite plugging his ears.

“You summoned me! I did not ask to be cast as a villain in your Saturday morning cartoon!”

The temperature plummeted and there was something like a mournful wail in the distance, then a long spindly arm opened a door in the wall. Jason could have sworn it wasn’t there a moment ago, but honestly up could be down right now and he wouldn’t know. His teeth clattered and he desperately wanted to wrap his arms around his body, but dared not move them from his ears.

“Your room,” the King spat. The tapestries on the wall melted slowly together with his shadows.

“You may move around the castle, but don’t go into the west wing, those are my rooms, and don’t go into the dungeons - for your own sake.” He disappeared in a short flash of light.

Jason’s ears popped as pressure and temperature returned to normal and he gasped as if he hadn’t breathed for several minutes. Maybe he hadn’t. He couldn’t remember.

His mind was reeling, unable to comprehend, to process, what had happened. Words, he didn’t know them, but the King’s voice felt engraved onto his bones.

Beyond the doorway was a bed. A bed, he turned the concept around in his head as if it was a strange new thing, despite that he knew he should know the concept.

Slowly he picked himself up. With every staggered step, he felt more and more worried he would just melt into the carpet, but finally he fell down on top of soft covers.

Bed good.

We are not talking about the fact that this is another wip... >.> I wanted to do something for Trauma Tuesday, but in the end I'm too tired, and then Clock suggested it would be Trauma Lite Tuesday, so that's what we're going for XD I don't tag people, if you want to follow the story please subscribe to the handy masterlist/subscription post

#Almanac #dp x dc #dead on main #summonings have consequences #trauma tuesday #though more like #trauma lite tuesday

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mokulule · 5 months

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Almanac - Chapter 3

Been a while since I uploaded something. Had some real busy weeks, got sick on top, just all sorts of annoyances. Tbh this has been done for a while but I was contemplating where to split this chapter, and finally decided here, which means it was done.

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) First | Masterlist

Chapter 3 - 12th October, Full Hunter’s Moon

Danny was still angry and frustrated at what the Justice League had made him do, when they could have just asked Phantom, but now at least he was calm, centered.

He breathed in deep, tasting the ectoplasm, not with lungs or tastebuds but with his core. It was quite amazing what a week of intense meditation could do for the Realms. It made him feel a bit guilty that he’d prioritized living over his duties so much, but well, for the foreseeable future he would have plenty of time to play king.

The millennia of stagnation from Pariah’s imprisonment and the time before that of Pariah’s betrayal when the power had gone to his head, had not done great things for the health of the realms. Danny was slowly but steadily changing that.

It was certainly easier to focus on than the fact that he had been summoned as the freaking Ghost King to do something he’d been on the way to deal with, locking him into a deal. He hadn’t had the heart to tell them he’d already been on the way there.

If only they had been a little bit less desperate - a little slower in their setup, all this could have been avoided.

All this power - he breathed in - the Realms’ energy, his to command and shape, infinite, still heavy with Pariah’s madness, but getting better, more colorful, lighter the more he channeled it through his core. All this power and yet, or rather because of that, he was bound by rules.

There were laws governing creatures such as him, such as Clockwork and Pandora: Ancients. Danny chuckled, it was still ridiculous to think of himself as such, he was after all only seven years dead. But as Clockwork said it wasn’t so much a matter of time as it was a matter of power.

Danny had already been powerful. Halfas, because of their still living nature, were naturally inclined to change and gaining power at a rate full ghosts didn’t. Danny having died as a teen while going through puberty (a big change in itself) allowed for exceptional power growth. Coupled with the stressful environment where he fought for his half-life weekly if not daily he had been on the fast track to become an ancient before he hit fifty.

Becoming the de facto Ghost King on his eighteenth birthday stopped that in a way. After a bout of panicked confusion things had stabilized, especially after the coronation made things all official. Danny’s power growth had slowed. It would be quite some time before Danny would be considered an ancient on his own merits now, which was just fine by him. On the flip side becoming Ghost King had made him an ancient by job description.

“Hard at work I see.”

“Clockwork,” Danny greeted, blinking open his eyes. His mentor smiled back at him from an old face that rapidly morphed younger.

“Your Majesty,” Clockwork greeted in return with a flourishing bow in the air.

Danny grimaced. “Really, Clockwork?”

“But that is what you are for the foreseeable future, is it not?”

Danny looked away, biting his lip. Indecision warred inside him, but in the end he couldn’t help but look back up and ask, “will it work?”

Warm amusement shone in the red eyes. “As long as you’re careful, this is not an easy path you’ve decided on.”

Danny scoffed. “How could I not? It was the only thing I could think of.”

“You don’t have any obligation.”

“Clockwork, I took a man from his family, their grief is paying for my assistance. I never-“ his own grief and revulsion rose up in a wave, he felt as if he would drown.

“I didn’t ask for this.” The words were choked out and small.

Clockwork opened his arms and Danny rushed forward into the embrace. He held on desperately, as a sob wrenched through his chest. So much for his calm and meditation. A hand brushed through his hair beneath where the crown floated.

“Having a kind heart is not an easy thing for a king.”

“I wanted them to hurt too though, for putting me in that situation,” Danny admitted quietly.

“Mhmm, a very human emotion.”

Danny flinched, but Clockwork continued running his hand through his hair undeterred.

“And did you let this emotion affect your decision?”

“No, of course not. The world needed saving, that was the most important.”

“Then I don’t see what else you could have done, my King.” Danny sighed, letting it go and letting the steady tick tock of the seconds counted by Clockwork’s chest calm him down.

“In any case there’s no changing the past,” Danny announced with forced cheer as he pushed away.

Clockwork promptly bonked him on the head with his staff and he yelped.

“A hard earned lesson.”

“I wasn’t asking you to.” Danny grumbled rubbing at his head. It was barely a tap, but it still smarted. “I just can’t help but wonder, you know? They thought I was a city spirit, Clockwork! If I could just change that misconception.”

“How about you focus on the present instead, hmmm? Could there maybe be something you’ve forgotten?”

“Forgotten?” Danny felt a curl of worry in his gut.

“mmhmmm,” Clockwork hummed in agreement.

Danny wracked his brain, but simply couldn’t figure out what he’d forgotten.

“How is that new pet of yours?”

“Pet?! I don’t have- Wait, you don’t mean Jason? He’s a human, not a pet! Really, Clockwork.” Danny turned away, disgruntled at Clockwork, both for calling Jason a pet and also because thinking of Jason brought all that he’d done right back up to the surface.

“And how is the human?”

“I don’t know, okay,” Danny huffed. “I haven’t seen him. But I’m sure he’s fine, he’s a big boy and I gave him free rein of the castle.”

“The semi-sentient castle that responds to your mood?”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Fuck.”

Oo o oO

“Jason!” A voice yelled frantically. There were hands on him shaking him. He blinked open his eyes, not quite focused and suddenly there were green eyes and cold gloved hands on his cheeks.

“Oh good, you’re alive.” There was a lot of relief in that voice.

Jason pushed away and the hands let him. He was normally faster to wake than this, but he must have really been woken up at the wrong time. He felt immensely tired. With a yawn he sat himself up. It took him a moment to comprehend the figure floating cross-legged inches off the bedspread; fluffy white hair and dark brows worried over green eyes, dark clothing, white gloves and a floating nebulous cape behind him that was like a rare view of the night sky. It was the burning crown that finally cut through the haze with a shot of fear through his system.

He moved back, away, until his back hit the headboard. His ears hurt in phantom pain and his eyes flickered searching for signs that the king was angry, but he seemed surprisingly solid, human except for the obvious glowing and floating. Also that was not anger, it was worry and pain and… sadness?

“It seems I have more things to apologize for than I realized.”

Jason met his eyes then and at that moment he just looked tired and sad. He reached a hand out to Jason.

“Will you join me for breakfast?”

Jason didn’t take the hand.

Eventually the king grimaced and looked away. “If you’d rather eat alone that’s also fine, but I think I owe you an explanation and an apology.”

“Okay,” Jason finally answered hesitantly.

“Okay?”

“Okay I’ll join you for breakfast.” Still, instead of taking the offered hand, Jason got out on his own on the other side of the bed. He felt a bit wobbly as he got to his feet but he refused to show any more weakness.

This time as they walked and floated respectively along the hallways there were windows. If the view was to be believed it was still night, clear and starry, with a full moon.

The king noticed him looking and floated over to a window looking out. His white starlight hair moved in a non existent wind and something in his expression softened.

“It is always a clear night sky here. The stars move with the seasons in the living realm matching the northern hemisphere. It is a way for me to tell time. It’s easy to loose track here otherwise.”

Jason would believe that, he’d already lost track of time.

“How long have I been here?”

The king hunched his shoulders. “It’s been thirteen days since the equinox. It is lucky you are as liminal as you are or you would be in a worse state.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you are to some degree feeding on the energy that make up the Realms, like a ghost would.” The king sighed and turned around.

“So first apology. I had thought I gave you freedom to explore but I forgot to take into account that the castle is semi-sentient and responds to my mood, and my mood haven’t been the best.” His face darkened and it was like the hallway itself got darker and more cramped. Jason’s heart beat fast in his chest, he couldn’t focus on that, he wanted to step backwards, but he couldn’t let fear control him. He had to focus on something else.

“You forgot your castle is magical?” Jason asked, putting as much disbelief into the tone as he could force through his tight throat.

The oppressiveness disappeared, but now the King just looked tired again. “I have been king for two years, Jason, of which I still spent most of the time haunting my hometown. But still I should have realized, so I’m sorry.”

He seemed truthful, but still-

“Two years?” Jason asked weakly, that was no time at all and it was so little compared to what Jason had imagined, compared to what he suspected anyone imagined.

“Yeah, which leads into the second apology. I am in many ways still getting used to the power that comes with the position. I get a bit hard on mortal senses if I’m not careful with my emotions, your liminality protects you some, but,” the King flew closer and hovered so they were at eye height, Jason stiffened. “I was upset and I hurt you. I should have controlled myself better and now you’re scared of me.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Jason, I can taste your fear.”

A spike of fear shot through him and he gave in and stepped back. The king just gazed at him sadly.

“Again, I’m sorry.” He looked for a moment as if he wanted to say something more, but then his shoulders fell and he turned around. “The kitchen is this way.”

The drapes by the windows somehow seemed disappointed in Jason and when he stood still too long without following his section of the hallway tilted. He quickly stepped forward so he wouldn’t overbalance and followed the king - before the castle decided more drastic measures were needed.

Oo o oO

When Jason had imagined what it meant to join the king for breakfast, he wasn’t sure what he’d imagined. But it certainly wasn’t to be seated at a plain wooden table with benches in a medieval looking kitchen with what looked like a glowing, green skinned lunch lady complete with pink dress, hairnet and gloves.

“Thank you for coming with such short notice,” the king addressed the lunch lady from where he was seated across from Jason.

“Oh, it is no problem sweetie,” she replied in a kind voice as she set down a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of each of them. “Growing boys needs lots of protein. And you are still much too skinny.”

Jason watched in fascination as the king rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. It was such a human gesture.

“Yeah I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for me to do more growing.”

“Not all growing is physical, dear. Cookie?”

The sudden subject change was enough to give Jason whiplash. But the king seemed to almost expect it from his fond smile.

“You’re right of course. And yes, if you’re willing, we’d love a cookie each.”

The old lady chuckled and procured two chocolate chip cookies seemingly from nowhere. She put them down on two separate plates.

“Kingship suits you, Phantom, you’ve gotten much more polite.” There was something there, a history Jason could only begin to guess at.

“You can thank Dora’s lessons for that.”

“The dragon princess? I will be sure to remember. But I must go now, you take care boys.”

Dragon princess? It was like Jason had walked into a storybook.

They ate for a while in silence as Jason contemplated the scene he’d just watched. The king, or Phantom, Jason remembered now he’d also called himself that, seemed very young. He looked to be around Jason’s age, but of course that didn’t necessarily mean anything since he was a ghost, but he had said he had only been king for two years.

“So you eat,” Jason said just to get a conversation going.

“I can eat, but I don’t have to. Especially not here in the Realms.”

“And me? You said I absorb some energy here because I’m liminal? What does that mean?”

“It means that your spirit, your soul, whatever you wanna call it, hasn’t entirely forgotten how to be dead. But you’re not a proper ghost, so you can’t entirely feed on just the energy here.”

“So if I had never died?”

“This wouldn’t even be an option. I would never take a fully living here for long, they would be driven mad.”

Jason looked down at his food and continued eating, it was delicious and doubly more so because he was starving.

It wasn’t long before Phantom stood up.

“Thank you for indulging me. I won’t force my company on you any longer. The castle shouldn’t give you as much trouble as before - it is not meant to be a prison for you.” He seemed to say the last more to the room than Jason, there was a stern almost admonishing edge.

He was starting to leave and Jason felt a sudden urgency in his chest. This was the first interaction he’d had with anyone in what was apparently nearly two weeks. The loneliness and inactivity loomed like a beast.

“No, wait!”

Phantom turned halfway back. “Did you need anything else?”

“You can’t just leave me with no purpose! I need stuff to do or I will grow mad,” Jason pleaded.

“I don’t-“ Phantom frowned, he made a resigned movement with his hands. “Well, what do you like to do?”

“I-“ And suddenly that line of questioning felt way too intimate and personal. Jason settled for “I like to fight.”

There was something almost disappointed in the king’s gaze that grated in Jason’s chest. He sighed.

“I should have figured. Fright Knight.” He raised his voice on the last two words and suddenly from one blink to the next, there was a figure in grey gladiator armor and a flaming purple cape kneeling in front of him.

“My liege, what can I do for you?”

“Our guest-” he indicated Jason, “wishes to spend his time mastering the art of combat and is in need of a worthy sparring partner.”

The fright knight rose and studied Jason, only now did Jason realize he could see nothing but darkness and a pair of eyes inside the helmet.

“He doesn’t look like much.”

“He’s still alive, make sure he stays that way,” the king said absolutely deadpan, before turning and flying off, cape flaring behind him.

- Yay! Jason got something to eat finally. And he's for sure not gonna be bored anymore, so that's something XD

Things are looking up, or?

Anyways, hope you enjoyed. Comments and tags are greatly appreciated. For continuations you can subscribe to the masterpost

#Almanac #dp x dc #dead on main #summonings have consequences

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