#dc ficlet
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“Can I ask you a question?”
Janet turned to face her semi-regular visitor, an alternative version of her son, and boy, wasn’t that a sentence?
“Different from the ones I’ve been asking, I mean?”
“Oh course, birdie.”
It had been rather awkward for the both of them the first time Janet had instinctively used a pet name that she used for her own Tim, one that his Mother had also used for him.
He had blinked away tears so quickly that if she hadn’t known all versions of her son so dearly she would have thought she had imagined it.
From that point on she made sure to only call him Tim or Birdie, a pet based off his hero identity, (and it still took the breath out of her lungs to think about any version of her baby fighting criminals with nothing but a belt full of tools and a metal staff. Her fear for him was not at all canceled out by her pride). The name deemed safe since her own Tim was a civilian.
Though, even “Tim” got confusing sometimes when trying to differentiate between her son and the son of dead version of herself.
She had asked if it would perhaps be better to call him Jackson and he had frowned at the suggestion, suggesting Alvin or Carl as alternatives instead with a sudden, sly smirk and a snicker when he saw her expression.
He smiled at her now, a soft, gentle thing, that spoke of comfort but his eyes were sad.
“Do you think…” he paused, “Do you think, if things were reversed between our worlds and you had passed, sorry, this is, uh, um a pretty heavy question...”
Tim trailed off, eyes glued to the bare white wall across from him and Janet walked over and sat beside him, not touching, just silently offering support.
“It’s okay, it’s obviously burdening you, let me carry some of the weight. What’s on your mind, Birdie?”
“If it were you that had die-passed, and your Tim had access to trans-dimensional travel, would it… would it make you sad or hurt your feelings if your Tim was to visit my mom?”
Janet paused, thinking it over.
Tim didn’t look at her, allowing her to consider her words carefully.
“A little bit, I think. Not hurt, but sad, because of course my preference would be to be a part of his life. However, even if it would make me a little sad, it would mean the world to me that another Janet was able to open up her arms to my son, that he had found a way to ease his pain, even if just a little bit.”
He smiled at her and it was watery.
“You know, when I come to visit, I take the information you give me and I go though my Mama’s stuff, almost like I’m gathering clues here and putting the pieces together there.”
He paused, trying and failing to not fidget.
“I had no idea, about the Emily Dickinson poem, until you told me and then I went home and she had used that poem in a couple of her poems and social media posts.”
He leaned in to her space.
“It’s nice, getting to learn about her, even now that she’s gone… I appreciate you, you giving me the chance to do so.”
Janet gently bumped shoulders with him, “Of course, Birdie.”
“It also kind of feels weird,” he confessed, “to investigate my own mom like this.”
Janet hummed, and took a chance, “Well, you are two anthropologists’ son, investigating the dead is kind of in your blood.”
Tim choked out a laugh, “Yeah,” he huffed out, voice low and rough but still amused, “guess you’re right.”
He leaned back against the sofa, “She’d love that, I think, being an anthropological revelation.”
“I’d be flattered, certainly.”
Tim snickered at that.
“Do you think your Tim is gonna be an anthologist. Like you and his dad?”
Janet hummed, “Maybe. He enjoys coming out to digs on holidays and summer vacations. But he also enjoys his photography and he keeps making jokes, that I’m not entirely sure are actually jokes about becoming a professional skateboarder.”
Tim snorted in amusement, “Well, I’m rooting for him if he goes for it.”
Janet grinned. “I will too, if that’s his passion in life, though I will expect him to have a backup plan, of course.”
“Of course.” Tim agreed.
“Anything but vigilante!” She shook his shoulder gently, “I already have one of those to worry about!”
He laughed, and he didn’t sound like her own Tim when he laughed.
He sounded like her, or well, she thought, another version of me.
——
I wrote a lot of words just to say I’m not over Batman (2016) #134 & I never will be ^.^
#janet drake#tim drake#I want more of their relationship#I wish we got more flashbacks of tim & janet#or references of janet#janet & tim#tim & janet#robin#robin tim#robin iii#jack drake#batman 134#dc comics#au#janet drake meta#ficlet#dc ficlet
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"so.... You're not the same person?"
"No," he really hopes they'll attribute his racing heartbeat and sweating face to nervousness and anxiety, and not because he's blatantly lying through his teeth.
"Who is he then?" He's sure that if he could see his face, Batman would be raising an eyebrow.
Or maybe not, maybe he's just as expressionless without his mask.
"Well..." Ok, Billy. You can do this. You've lied to police officers for harder things to hide. You have the excuse of magic this time. You can do it. "I guess you could say he's... My dad...?" That's surely not going to come back to bite him in the ass anytime soon.
Fuck Batman and fuck his face recognition software.
"You don't sound too sure yourself." Dammit Supes, you're supposed to be on his side, not poking holes in his story!
"It's kinda complicated. It's magic bullshit." He can feel the judgemental stares at his swearing, but he's freaking out too much to care about what the Justice League thinks of his politeness.
"Basically," he continues, not giving them the chance of asking questions again, "think about it this way. He's the one with the powers, and- and nothing actually happens to me if he gets hurt." Ok, technical truth. He can do this.
"So do you... Like... Switch places then?"
"Yes, that's exactly what happens." He thanks Superman mentally.
"What happens to you then?"
"Uuuhmmm." THINK THINK THINK. "It's like- well, basically... Only one of us can exist on any give plane of existence." Are those words too big for an 11 years old to know? Possibly. But he does learn a thing or two by being Marvel and constantly being surrounded by adults who spoke like they came out of a dictionary.
Or a court case.
"So you go... Where?" 'Flash if you don't stop asking questions,' Billy mentally threatens, 'I will make sure there is no food for you at the Watchtower or so help me Gods. I'll become the biggest annoyance you've ever had the displasure of dealing with'
"The Rock of Eternity." Probably his best lie yet.
"And it's.... Safe for you in the... Rock?" Diana, you beautiful, wonderful woman. Why would you do this to him?
Billy nods. "Yes, only we can go there. Well, and people we allow inside. But we don't do that." And Freddy doesn't count.
Neither does Darla.
And Mary.
And Pedro.
Eugene.
None of the rest of his family counts, let's leave it at that.
"As long as the Champion of Magic is there to protect it, it's the safest place one could be in"
'If you strong enough to resist the temptations of the embodiment of the Seven Deadly Sins, that is' he didn't say. He thought it, though.
Gosh he hopes Martian Man Hunter hasn't been reading his mind this whole time.
That would be awkward, to say the least.
"But why are you two like this- what happened?" Well Flash is not going to eat in the tower for a good while.
Billy fidgets. One last lie. Can he 'technically the truth' his way out of this one?
"Well... Marvel is not... Really my dad. He's more like...." C'mon words, c'mon. "His ghost or-or his... His legacy! Yeah. And a few years ago- there's a Wizard involved. We got the blessings of the Gods and- I don't actually know the details." Mostly because the details don't actually exists.
But they don't need to know that.
The other heroes share a glace.
He knows they're not happy about the whole situation. He doesn't even want to imagine what they'd say if they knew he was lying.
Vaguely, he remembers about a conversation Robin and Superboy had. Something that Nightwing and Hood brought on. Something about Batman and his tendency of pulling children under his wing.
Suddenly, Billy becomes self conscious of the holes in his clothes, the dirt-stained jeans, his hair that he clearly cut himself, the bruises and scrapes under the fabric that the other heroes can't even see.
He must really look like something alright.
"Can we talk to the Captain, kid?" He's surprised that throughout all of this none of them had even asked his name.
"Yeah, sure." He yells the magic word, with a passing thought of not having well calculated having to pose as two separate people in their eyes now.
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This is How I Imagine BruHal Works
Hal strummed his fingers against his leg. He was staring with the utmost precision at his obviously important task. What else was he supposed to do exactly to distract him? The only other stimulation was the periodic beeping or hum of the Justice's Hall's machinery or air conditioning. In addition to the idle conversation of Clark and Kendra, which was limited to the dull topic of Clark's kid. Which was a bit harsh, but he was keeping it to himself, so it's okay. Hal had the feeling Kendra wasn't particularly interested in it herself. But then again he could only hear bits and pieces.
Well, there was Batman, who was standing relatively close to him. But, first, he was only flipping through paperwork on a clipboard. (Why was he using a clipboard when he was access to alien technology and then some? Whatever, it wasn't important) And, second, Bruce was exactly who he was trying to distract himself from.
"Hal."
He practically jumped out of his set, the sound of wind finally catching up to his friend. The former pilot turned to his left, Barry sitting next to him. Yes, he should be used to Barry appearing in an instant, but he was tense right now. Leave him alone. Hal shifted back, staring vaguely at Bruce.
"Hal. Look at me."
He sighed before hesitantly turning to the Flash.
"What?"
Barry leaned next to him, his voice turning quieter.
"Did you fuck that old man?"
It should be noted, dear reader, that all of these men are around the same age.
Hal's eyes widened like he had seen a mutilated corpse. His mouth filled with air he didn't intend to let out as he looked back in front of him.
"Hal, did you f-"
He whipped back around an instant, "Yes!"
Hal's voice was as much of a scream as a whisper could be, practically a hiss, "Now stop asking."
Barry peered at him for a moment.
"How could you do this?"
"What?" the question of a strong mix of confusion and annoyance.
"There will never be another moment where you two are in the same room that we wouldn't be thinking about it."
"Why are you thinking about it?"
Barry raised his hand to point a finger at Hal, "You groaning his name."
That didn't answer Hal's question, though that wasn't the Green Lanturn's first thought.
"Why would I be the one-"
He decided that was a good point to cut himself off.
"Are you implying you topped Batman?"
"I-"
Hal contemplated for another moment.
"How about we stop talking about this?"
"Please do."
With matching, and, it cannot be understated, horrified, expressions they looked back up. Seeing Bruce then cough into his fist while refusing to make eye contact with either of them. Bruce scattered out of the room, his movement awkward. Well, his movement was always awkward, but this was a different awkward.
Hal didn't know what he meant by that.
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Put That Thing Back Where it Came From or So Help Me-
Constantine was pacing back and forth in the waiting room, hands flying as he went over the rules of dealing with Infinite Realm Nobility for the eighteenth time.
Bruce tried to pay attention, really. But he'd already memorized this speech of the Laughing Magicians, and all there was really left to do was wait for their turn to meet the High King.
A flash of movement caught Bruce's attention, and he found his eyes drawn to a completely human teenager meandering his way from one of the side doors and towards the refrigerator stocked with "mortal friendly snacks".
Bruce kept quiet as he heard the teen muttering to himself about "aw yeah fuck yeah fiji water fuck yes", and let Constantine drone on and on about how they were probably the first mortals the King had ever met.
The teenager behind the ranting man stocked his arms full of Fiji water, chips, and cosmic brownies.
Then the Teen turned and realized Bruce was watching him.
Bruce shook his head minutely.
The teen slowly turned back to the fridge and put everything but the Fiji water back. That and the cosmic brownie.
Cautious blue eyes met his, and the kid raised an eyebrow.
Bruce scowled.
The brownie was quickly replaced with a banana.
Bruce gave a slight nod and looked away.
The teen darted back through the side door.
He didn't know who the kid was, but eating healthy was important. And, okay, maybe his own experience with kids had shoved its way to the front of his brain and taken over.
At least the random teenager in the Land of the Dead would have a healthy snack.
Two more minutes passed before the small entourage was allowed into the antechamber.
A glowing, floating boy was hovering just above the throne. White hair, glowing green eyes, a crown that looked like it was made of shattered pieces of space glittering above his head-and a poorly hidden half empty bottle of Fiji water peeking out at them from behind the throne, kept company by a single banana.
...Huh.
He had either told the Kings servant what to feed the King, or...
"Welcome to the Infinite Realms, I am Phantom, High King. For what reason do you seek an audience?"
Oh. Nope, nevermind on the servant theory. That was the kids voice.
Bruce had directly told the King of an entire dimension what he could and could not eat.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#story prompt#phanfic#ficlet#idk had an idea dunno where it'd go#it anyone wants to finish it ur welcome to it
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Clark calls the Batcave.
Jason: Hello?
Clark: Robin? It's Superman.
Jason: Yeah, you were ID'd before I even answered. What's up?
Clark: Uh, I stopped at a store after flying back into town and bumped into someone from work. We walked out together, so I had to pretend my car was stolen, but it's still at my apartment building. I wanted to know if Batman had any ideas for a cover.
Jason: Oh, no worries. I got you.
Clark: What do you mean?
Jason: I'll take care of it.
Clark: Oh...kay. Thank you, Robin.
Jason: No sweat!
Later, Clark discovers his car truly is missing. It's found with the tires, stereo, and catalytic converter removed, the wiring stripped, and the hood ornament knocked off. The police tell him that, sadly, this sort of thing has been happening more and more, even in their fine city.
Clark calls again.
Jason: Hey! Did everything work out with your car story?
Clark: Yes, thank you, Jason.
Jason: Great! Swing by later and I'll give you your cut.
Clark: You mean the missing parts of my car?
Jason: What? No. That shit's serial numbered. The cops would think you were pulling an insurance scam or somethin' if you put it back and anyone noticed. I sold the parts to a chop shop here.
Clark: You sold-?
Jason: Don't worry, my guy ain't a snitch. Your secret's safe!
Clark: ...Thanks.
Jason: No problem. I had to tell him you needed the car disappeared 'cause you were cheating on your old lady so he wouldn't think it was tied to something too bad, though.
Clark: I'll keep that in mind.
Jason: Oh, hey, B's here. You wanna talk to him?
Clark: Yes, please.
Jason: Cool. Talk to you later!
Clark: Bye, Jason.
Bruce: Clark.
Clark: I take it you know what happened?
Bruce: Yes. You learned a valuable lesson, didn't you?
Clark: Next time, I will definitely ask how he intends to take care of it.
Bruce: Good. I don't want my son arrested because he was doing you a favor.
Clark: I had no idea he was going to strip my car and sell the parts to a chop shop!
Bruce: You know how I found him. You knew the risks.
Clark: ...
Bruce: And you're letting him keep your cut.
Clark: Of course.
#ficlet#fanfiction#bat family#jason todd#robin#clark kent#superman#bruce wayne#batman#dc#comics#bruce goes full thug when it comes to his kids#batdat#bruce wayne's adopted children
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Clark is taking Kon and Jon out for a classic, super-style bonding flight. Just a quick jaunt around the US and back!
They don’t get far. Somewhere in Illinois airpace, they run across another family.
The three (a hulking man, a snarky teenage boy, and a cackling youngest girl, each a grayscale blur in the blue, blue sky) throw neon-lit beams of energy at one another, quips and insults flying almost as fast as they do. It looks like training. It looks like fun!
The boy of them looks like a younger version of the man. Exactly like, even. Clark is familiar with clones.
The youngest, a girl, looks like both of them, but not quite. Perhaps she will, age sharpening her childish features, but it’s hard to say. More likely, she’s the man’s daughter.
Interested, Clark introduces himself to Dan. He seems to be a hero in his own right, even if Superman’s yet to see him in action. And it’s not often Clark sees a family so like his own!
#post agit but with the hc that dans ghost form stays the same! big and scary!#clark: oh! you’re a clone? here meet kon he’s also a clone!#clark: [pushes kon toward danny] teen boy clones! you should exchange instasnaps or smth. or facebooks! kids still use that to chat right?#danielle: is this identity theft. and if so. can i steal dans ID i wanna be the evil version from an alternate timeline now#dp x dc#dpxdc#prompt#dpxdc prompt#kipwrite#less of a ficlet more of an interesting observation and funny potential misunderstanding. which actually still counts now that i think of it#whatever sorry ive been busy!!#danny fenton#dark danny#danielle fenton#clark kent#kon el#jon kent#realizing now i hardly ever spell his name connor. hm
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DPxDC Prompt
Summoning is an imperfect art, mispronouncing a name or having an incorrect symbol can lead to unexpected, and sometimes explosive results.
Summoning can open unexpected doors.
No one's prepared for what--or who--steps through when a rising gang tries to summon backup.
My little ficlet for this is below the cut:
Smoke. The acrid slam of it in the nose, brought on by the screaming wind. Chanting. A chorus of voices, steady and thrumming. Pain. Everything is hazy, and it’s equal odds on it being from the smoke or the potential head injury.
Bruce stumbles to his feet, body throbbing.
This was not how he’d planned this night.
Of course, he hadn’t planned for Gotham to suddenly be overrun with a new…gang? They claimed to be a government organization, but Bruce has his doubts. He hadn’t had a chance to go through the GIW’s information, but according to Barbara, their claims were sketchy at best.
The shouting about ghosts and waving around sci-fi weapons with no trigger discipline certainly didn’t help their claims.
Government organization or not, they had no right to raid homes, to drag people out onto the street, or overall threaten his city.
His ears ring, and the chanting rises in volume, impossibly. His chest reverbes with the sound. It’s steady enough to feel like a second heart. His blurry vision locks onto the center of the summoning circle. Because this night couldn’t get any worse, of course.
First the GIW had rocketed up his list of threats with one simple move.
They’d gone after Jason.
Jason, who even now was laid out in the middle of the summoning circle, eyes bright, bright, bright green through the haze.
First they’d taken his son.
Then they’d used him as a sacrifice.
Bruce bared his teeth, locking eyes with the closest GIW agent. The man held up his weapon, a glowing baton. His form is weak.
The baton gord flying, Bruce’s armored elbow slamming the man to the ground. The agent curls up, groaning. Nightwing’s escrima sing electric in the background, followed by the whip of Tim’s bow staff. Damian’s sword glints through the haze, and purple flashes through the crowd of white, white, white.
He can’t see Cass, but he doesn’t expect too.
The ground rocks under his feet, and it takes several precious seconds to regain his balance. There seems to be an almost endless flood of agents, with more and more meeting his fists as he tries to make it through the gauntlet.
Suddenly, the air shifts, the scream of it heading for the circle instead of out.
The circle glows toxic green, and Jason’s at the center, frozen in the light.
“No!” Bruce shouts, the sound ripping from his soul.
It’s echoed by Dick, who stands just outside the circle’s boundaries. His hands are pressed against the light, his blue eyes a shock against the green.
It’s a confusion of people - GIW white and the summoner’s black. The GIW is here to end whatever it is they need Jason to summon to them. The summoners themselves seem to have broken away from the “agency” and want power from the being they’re calling. It’s a fight on multiple fronts, with the GIW fighting the summoners and Bruce and his family fighting them all.
The temperature drops.
“HOOD!” Dick screams, as Jason is swallowed by the green.
The chant is all he can hear, even as he shoves towards the circle, even as he slams against the same wall Dick’s against.
The world goes bright and he can’t keep his eyes on Jason. On his son.
When the light fades, Jason’s not alone.
A being sits six feet in the air, Jason collapsed over his lap, somehow hovering with the - what is he? He looks human, but there’s something wrong. Off. Bruce can’t quite pinpoint his age. A crown glows on his head, an ever shifting cape spills down his back, dragging close to the floor. His eyes are green as Lazarus, and just as deep. Jason is breathing, Bruce notes. The being’s hands curl in Jason’s hair, playing with it idly.
The air is *rigid, and everyone’s stopped fighting. No one can draw their eyes away from the being.
“You dare to summon me with one of my own?” The being speaks, and it’s like crackling glaciers. Someone whimpers.
“We - wanted to give you a gift,” One of the men in black says, his voice chattering.
It’s like breathing in ice.
“A gift?” The being says and the sound is fury, banked in a waiting avalanche. “What kind of gift is this? A denizen of my Realms, trapped and tortured? Used to summon his king, against his will? This is no gift.”
“B-but we didn’t know,” another speaks, and then obviously realizes he shouldn’t have.
“Ignorance will not save you,” the being says, and it - he’s? - still holding Jason like he’s something precious. “And I am not the only one you have infuriated.
“I am not the only one you have awoken.”
To a man, the GIW agents cry out in panic. Bruce turns, looking for the threat but - the agents are buried to various depths in the cracked concrete floor. The ground is decidedly solid beneath Bruce’s feet but the agents would obviously not agree. They flounder, like the concrete is quicksand. The summoners are next, but it’s ice that gets them, crawling up their bodies until they’re locked into place.
“My lord!” One cries and promptly finds himself gagged.
Bruce can’t stay silent any longer. “Hood was used against his will to summon you,” he starts. The being’s eyes meet Bruce’s. “He didn’t want this. Is he alright?”
“Your son is fine,” the voice is rough, but feminine, and obviously not from the being. It’s around him, dancing through the steel beams and pushing through concrete. “You are mine, my knight. You and yours are mine. The little king will not harm him, nor you.” A figure forms off to his right.
“Holy shit,” Dick whispers. Bruce has to agree.
She’s made of concrete, of broken brick and dust, of bone and police tape, of twisted metal and more.
“Gotham,” Bruce breathes, and he doesn’t know how he knows but he does.
“Hello, my knight,” she says, her form shifting. She turns slightly, and there’s something sharp in her movement. “Hello, little king.”
“Lady Gotham,” The being - the king? - returns. “You look well,”
Lady Gotham laughs, a ringing sound - it’s bells and gravel, fresh air on a summer day and rising wind. “How you flatter me, little king. Do you fear me?”
The being grins, mischief dancing around him, white hair floating high. “I respect you. It’s good to see you awake, Milady.”
“What is happening?” Tim asks no one in particular. Dick shrugs and Steph just leans harder on Tim. Cass holds Damian’s shoulder firmly, watching carefully.
Bruce wishes he had an answer.
“It is good to be awake,” Lady Gotham says, and she shifts closer to the circle, fingers skimming against the barrier of light. “How long do you intend to keep my reaper from me?”
Reaper. Bruce thinks, and it’s a gut punch.
It makes sense, to describe Jason. Jason can go where Bruce cannot, do what Bruce cannot.
The king laughs lightly. “The summoning harmed him, Milady. I’m just keeping him safe. I’m not here to undermine you,” the king’s eyes glow. “But remember who is king.”
Lady Gotham smiles. “I’m aware of hierarchy little king.”
“My son,” Bruce says, because there’s no point in pretending Jason is anything less. He’s talking to - the embodiment of gotham and a king of - something. “He’ll be okay?”
Lady Gotham sighs. “He will be fine, my knight. The little king cares for his own.”
“What - what are you the king of?” Tim asks, bold.
The being smiles.
“I am Phantom,” he says. “I am the Ghost King.”
Jason stirs in his lap, and the implications crash over Bruce. Maybe Reaper has more meaning than he’d thought.
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Phantom Fudge
I love the fics of Danny settling into Gotham and having some sort of business and just absolutely confusing the Batfam with how flippant he is about the crime.
My take is, instead of a coffee shop or bookstore or occult shop, Danny opens a fudge shop!
His parents taught him, and he found he actually really loved it, and besides, his dream of being an astronaut was out of reach due to his unique medical readings. In this au, his parents learned about him being Phantom and took it well after a good period of spiraling because-Holy shit they shot their son. You may be asking, Goggles, didn't you just make a post that was all about Jack and Maddie not taking the news well? Yes. Yes, I did.
I go back and forth with wanting to salt them and not. I like both.
So anyways, Danny is the heir to the Ghost Throne, but he won't actually take up the official title until his time on Earth is naturally over. After everything got better with his parents and his regular ghost fighting buddies, he actually was able to raise his grades and graduate. Many teachers were amazed at the progress but really, Danny may not have been as smart as his parents and sister (he is an unreliable narrator and is actually very smart just not as conventional as his family) but before his accident he had done pretty good in school. The GIW was still a thing, but without the Fenton technology, they weren't doing as well as they previously did. His parents broke their contract after they rescued him from the GIW labs, it was a little after he told his parents about his halfa status and they came storming in to save him and all the other ghosts that were captured. After that, life got so much better. His parents listened to him, and he got to teach them all about his people. They started publishing more papers with actually accurate information and were doing their best to overturn the anti-ecto acts. They haven't accomplished it, but Danny was sure they would.
That's actually why he moved to Gotham. Tucker had the idea of contacting the Justice League to help with the anti-ecto laws, but their calls weren't being answered. Neither were the...strongly worded emails Sam sent in. So Danny did what he did best and jumped into something not entirely thought out but hoping for the best. He moved to Gotham so he could get close to Batman and ask for help. He got accepted into Gotham University on a scholarship. But he wanted to make some money on his own without his parents sending him some kind of allowance, and he didn't want to work at Bat Burger. He started selling fudge around winter at his school, and he got permission to do so.
From there, he got enough money to actually open a small fudge cart. Then he got enough for a small shop near his apartment which was rather close to Crim Alley so he hired some working girls to help with the shop and he employed any Alley Kids looking for some cash as delivery workers. (They only delivered in Crime Alley, though, but that was fine with Danny.) Danny loved his little fudge shop that he lovingly named Phantom Fudge, and the sign had a cute little ghost eating some fudge on it. When he was in school for classes, he left the shop in his friend Ginger's hands. She had been a working girl before, but before that, she had had experience working a small mom & pop kind of shop, so Danny felt good leaving her in charge. When Ellie visited, she helped out with the shop too.
Danny was thriving. Then he started getting customers of the ecto variety because, of course, he would. Apparently, he was something of an ecto filter for the shades and ghost of Gotham, so they would visit his shop to soak up some of the pure ectoplasm in the air. Then he experimented and made some ecto-fudge, which is what he gave to any ecto beings that entered his shop. Most couldn't pay, but they would give him a heads up if they saw anything shady happening around his shop.
Like a little heads up that some robberies were happening in the area, or some rogue was getting close. It was a nice little system they had. Though some ghosts came in just to tell him their unfinished business and like...he wasn’t King yet, but these were his people, so he tried to help them out as best they could.
One particular couple showed up a lot and would ask him to help warn their son of any danger they heard was brewing. They would ask him to leave messages for the son or any of his kids but also the butler if needed. Danby thought this guy had some great parents. They didn't cross over because they needed to make sure their son was safe and taken care of. It was most likely that they wouldn't cross until their son did by the sounds of it. He got permission to call them Grandma and Grandpa, which was weird, but he didn't question it.
Martha and Thomas were nice spirits, so he had no problem helping them out. But Danny is Danny and his well-intentioned help of course caught the eye of the whole batfam.
They had been receiving letters in the Manor that appeared mysteriously. The first one they had all thought was a prank from the many people there. It was a simple, 'Don’t go to the gala. Something bad will happen.' That started it all. They were all baffled but laughed it off, and those who went to the gala didn't know how to feel when the seeming wait staff took over the event and held the guests hostage.
A coincidence surely.
Then they got another note, 'Freeze is planning to do a B&E and snatch some equipment from a Wayne lab. Idk which one since you have so many.' And just like last time, the note was speaking the truth. It continued from there, and everyone tried to capture whoever or whatever was leaving the notes, but any cameras they had glitched out before returning to normal and showing a new note had showed uo somewhere in the Manor. Bruce was going crazy trying to figure out who or what their messenger was.
Alfred once found a note that said, 'Tim has been awake and pushing himself too far. He is going to crash.' He took it to heart though and made Tim rest and take a break. He would not let the note happen. Tim had had far too many crashes the past couple of months.
The note that broke Bruce, though, was small in words, but it made him feel crazy. It was his parent's death anniversary, and when he went to visit the exact spot, he saw a sticky note on the floor. He shakily picked it up to see all it said was, 'It's okay.'
Now he is really worked up and determined to find the note messenger.
While that's going on, Danny also gets some local vigilantes visiting his shop, and he is so excited to see them and try and be their friend so he can ask for help. Plus they seem to be fans of his fudge and that just makes him happy.
The batkids thing the Phantom Fudge shop owner is suspicious, but hot damn did he make some bomb ass fudge.
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Danielle and Danyal's meeting... very, very quickly goes very sour from, basically, the moment Danny steps into his room and finds Ellie sitting on his bed (strike one) and reading the comic books Tucker introduced him to (strike two). By the time she's looked up to address him, Danny has the door locked, and a hand hovering near the knife hidden under his shirt.
She gets her third strike when Danny, in a voice that could make the mountains tremble, demands to know how she got into his room, and she lies (with uncertainty of her decision growing in her chest) that Jazz let her in. Danny's hand shifts closer to his weapon, and he turns towards her fully, and says that Jazz would never let someone he didn’t know into his room, and who was she.
(Vlad Masters had underprepared Danielle for her meeting with Danny -- not out of any completely direct malicious intent, but he failed to mention just how... 'touchy' Daniel could be -- he failed to mention the scars littering up his arms, unhidden by the hoodie tee he meets Ellie in. He failed to mention that along with those scars, that Danny was visibly lean, capable of doing very real damage without the use of his powers.)
(He tells Ellie that he’s adopted, and that he is observant and clever, but ungrateful and has a bad attitude.)
Her final strike occurs when Ellie, trying to keep her facade of cheeriness, tells him that she’s his third cousin once removed. Immediately, Danny has his dagger pulled out, and Ellie finds herself with the cold metal of a blade pressing against her throat.
Danyal 'A.G' Fenton hasn’t killed since he arrived in Amity Park. At first it was because mother told him to keep a low profile, and killing would do the opposite of that. But, he's been slowly learning from his sister and friends over the years the value of human life. So it's become a combination of keeping his head down, and also that life has value to it.
But. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill, nor is he opposed to doing it if the situation calls for it. It just means that he doesn't do it. And ‘Danielle’ is an unknown in his room, claiming to be family to him, and appearing uncannily similar to him and his family. Either someone hired her and she was trying to pass herself off as a relative to him because that someone realized Danny was the biggest threat, or, his false death has been compromised, his mother was unable to tell him, and the league was aware he was alive.
No matter how he looks at it, this Danielle was a threat to him, his sister, his friends, to Damian, and to the Drs. Fenton. Danyal Fenton doesn't kill, but he has no problems doing so.
(Ellie, pinned under Danny’s knee and the blade to her neck, is too terrified to think of phasing out of his hold. Not that it would help, he would just chase after her.)
“You have broken into my home, dared to lie to my face, and when I demanded to know the truth, you dared lie to me again." Danny's scowl could cower even Skulker, his glacier blue eyes burning. "Your continual breath has been a favor from me, that I have graciously allowed, from the moment you entered my room, dahkil."
"So I will ask one more time," he hisses, "who. are. you."
Danielle, only a few months old, unprepared for the ice storm that is "Daniel" Fenton, and his clone in only flesh and blood, and not memories, immediately breaks. And tells him that she was his clone, that Vlad sent her to come capture him, and to please not kill her.
Danny's face twists with anger, Ellie thinks he's going to kill her anyways. Instead, he withdraws his knife and gets off her, stringing out curses in Arabic as he sheathes his weapon back into its hiding place faster than Ellie can blink.
He switches to English as she is collecting her bearings (and contemplating fleeing), and Danny paces the room like a tiger in a cage. "--of course that wretched, arrogant, peacocking little ingrate would do something so infuriating. I should have driven my sword into the shrivel of his heart when I had the chance--"
Ellie, for a moment, thinks of leaving while he is distracted. And starts to slowly creep away. But Danny notices instantly, and whirls on her. His too-bright eyes bore into her head: "Where do you think you're going."
"...I'm leaving."
And Danny scoffs at her, "Why? So you can fly back to Masters and tell him that you failed to capture me, and that I know that he cloned me?" He says, and Ellie remains silent -- that's exactly what she was going to do. "He will destroy you within seconds."
Of course, Ellie rears back in offense, and she finds the footing to glare at him. "He would not! He's my dad, he loves me!"
Danny gets in her face, glowering back with an equal intensity. "He does not." He snaps, "Vlad Masters has not a soul in his body nor a heart in his chest. He would sooner cut off the hand that helps him stand, than to take it along with him."
"If you're really made of my blood, then I will teach you only this: we bow not our heads nor our hearts to anyone." Danny's too-blue eyes narrow, and his voice dips into a hiss, "Especially not to a conniving snake like Masters. Your heart: cut it off, or cut it out. He will sooner leave you to bleed."
Then, he unlocks the door and drags her out before she has much time to act. And as he drags her down the hall he shoots Sam and Tucker a text, and they meet up at Nasty Burger. Ellie is a spitfire, but Danny has her too intimidated to leave.
"This is Danielle," he tells them bluntly as he corners her into the booth, "she's my clone. Masters created her."
Ellie is with them for a week, and somehow throughout that time, Danny manages to actually get her to like him throughout that time. He's callous, blunt, and full of sharp edges that you can cut yourself on. But when he's not spitting venom, he's fretting.
When he drags her back to the house after being with Sam and Tucker, he pulls her to Jazz's room and opens the door to tell her the same thing. "This is Danielle." He says upon abruptly opening the door, interrupting Jazz's studying as he pulls Ellie inside. "She is my clone, Masters created her. She needs clothes."
Then he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Ellie, in that moment, thinks that now's her chance to flee. But Jazz then squeals, and she is trapped in new arms, shaken around by Jazz Fenton, excited for a sister.
(Ellie finds herself complaining to Jazz that night, shoved into old pajamas. She's in utter disbelief that Jazz could care about a jerk like Danny.)
("He's rough around the edges, but Danny does care." Jazz tells her, combing through her hair with her fingers. "We've been working on it ever since he joined the family, but Danny warms up slowly. He's usually less stoney; I think your arrival spooked him.")
("Spooked him?" Ellie repeats, she doesn't believe it at all. "He has a funny way of showing it, he threatened to kill me!" And she turns around just in time to see Jazz's press her lips into a line.)
("He's... very protective. He'll deny if you ask him, but he worries a lot." Jazz's fingers find her hair again. "What I do know for certain though, is that he wouldn't have kept you here if he wasn't worried about you at least a little bit.")
(Ellie doubts it.)
But Ellie is indeed there for a week, and the day after her initially rocky introduction with Danny, he is a little bit kinder to her. Still kinda a bitch, but he's less harsh to her, if... almost uncomfortable around her. Flighty, kinda.
Whenever she gets mouthy at him though, he looks oddly smug about it and, infuriatingly enough, praises her attitude. He is very, very annoying. And still kinda terrifying. But hearing him shout insults via puns at someone during a ghost fight that happens that week lessens the intimidating factor,,, a little bit.
Things go about,,,, relatively,,,, similar to canon. In the sense that it ends with Ellie defecting from Vlad because she finds out that Danny was right and that Vlad didn't actually care about her. (And that Jazz had been right too; Danny, in his weird, mean way, had been worried about her as well)
Danny looks out of his depth as she talks about how he was right, and he cuts her off with a vaguely uncomfortable clearing of his throat. And gives her the most awkward, but genuine apology he can muster.
"I should've used more tact when telling you about Masters, and I... apologize for threatening you when we met. I was..." he makes a face like he's sucked on a particularly sour lemon, "worried. First about my family, and then later about you."
(Ellie will be damned: Jazz was right)
Before Ellie leaves, Danny puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her: "I wasn't kidding about what I said to you when we first met: you are of my blood, and as such, you do not bow your head nor your heart to anyone."
Ellie looks at him, thinks about the last week, and smiles like she's caught him in a trap. "What about Sam and Tucker then? And Jazz?"
Danny smiles, it's awkward and tilted, like his face isn't used to the gesture. "We bow not our hearts, but that doesn't mean we can't share."
#danny speaks in formal english when he's pissed. he goes full on 'i shall eat his heart in the marketplace' levels of formal#not quite a ficlet not quite a post talking about the idea but a secret third option: its both of these at the same time#dp x dc#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp au#dpxdc au#dcdp#dpdc au#dp dc crossover#older brother danny#danny is an asshole with a heart of gold#the writing feels all over the place but since its not a fic i dont feel that self conscious about it lol. very much spitballing here#morally gray danny fenton#poc danny fenton#look ellie MIGHt - and thats a big if - have gotten away with the cousin lie if it weren't for the fact that she's danny's clone#danny who is not white nor remotely white-passing in this au. she might have gotten away if he had been and she claimed she was#from jack's side of the family. but alas. danny is adopted. the fentons are whiter than sunscreen. and danny is not.#dani and danny's meeting in danyal al ghul aus have the potenial of being IMMEDIATE dumpster fires which is very funny to me#on the basis of if danny knows he's adopted or not and if dani claims to be related directly to him or to jack.#dani: im your third cousin once removed :)#danny. is adopted: i kNOW YOU LYING. CUZ YO LIPS ARE MOVING#i got fanart for this au on haunting heroes discord and it kickstarted my thoughts about danyal again. they gave him the BATWING EYEBROWS#ellie has the batwing eyebrows too that was the mind killer thats what fucked her over /j. those are UNIQUELY BRUCE WAYNE BROWS FOLKS#fuck i wish tumblr told us on laptop when we run out of tags because i just lost like 4 of them. good thing i got screenies those were FUNN
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"Danny, you have to stop doing this." It was Jazz. She stood in the doorway, dressed in one of the long shirts she liked to wear to bed that almost covered her shorts. Her arms were crossed and she was leaning slightly against the doorframe. It was the way that she wasn't looking straight at Danny that had him on edge.
He stopped making the funny pose and floated down to touch the ground next to the small bed.
"Kennedy is starting to talk about her imaginary friend."
Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. Pale hair floating away from his hand. "Lots of kids have imaginary friends."
"Yes, just not their dead uncle."
Danny winced.
"You made a choice Danny, you have to live with that."
"Cruel choice of words there, Jazz," Danny said, baring his fangs in a soundless snarl.
"Danny..."
"No! How dare you put any of this on me— imply that I ever had a choice. That a single part of this—"
There was a distressed bubble of noise from the bed, knocking all of the fight of Danny at once.
Danny turned to the bed. He reached out and bopped Kennedy on the nose, making her giggle. "Sorry Jellybean, I didn't mean to get mad. I'll see you again soon, okay? Or— or if I don't, know that doesn't change how much I love you and that I'm look after you, okay?"
"Danny—"
Danny didn't stick around to hear the rest of what Jazz had to say. It was never anything he could stand to hear these days.
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The Ole Switcheroo.
The Justice League and the Justice League Dark are in need of some questions answered about the alarming numbers of tears in reality coming from this small nowhere town in Illinois and don’t seem to be stopping any time soon. So using every bit of summoning and containment magic the JLD have and the most prominent source of energy they could find in the city they decide to summon the owner of the energy.
***
“And you’re sure this containment spell will hold whatever comes through,” Superman asks as he observes Zatanna and Constantine marking out the circle.
“Should, most beings from that dimension have very specific powersets but all of them include basic flight, invisibility and intangibility. Hence why the civilians of the city refer to them as ghosts.” Zatanna says as she finished her marking with a flourish.
Batman grunts in response as he’s looking over data, J'onn focuses on Zatanna after she lists the powers, “I assume that is why I am here? Those powers are remarkably similar to Martian abilities.”
“Yes, should the being somehow escape we will need you to retrieve them if they become intangible.”
“Understood.”
“Ready John?”
“Let’s get this shiteshow started, luv.” John Constantine picks up a book and begins speaking in a voice of white noise and screams, the circle lights up an eerie green and wisping into the air before a flashing light reveals a white haired teen in a a jumpsuit floating in the air.
“What? How did I- Where am I?”
Batman steps forward, “That’s not important right, we just want to ask you a couple of questions about Amity Park.”
“Then I can leave?”
Several of the League Members share some looks before Batman answers, “If you aren’t a threat to this dimension.”
“Awesome, I can leave then.”
“That remains to be seen.” Zatanna cuts in, “First lets start with your name, can we have your name?”
“No, sorry but you can call me Phantom.” the teen chuckles at a joke he only knows.
“You can call me Zatanna then, the others are Superman, Batman, Constantine, and Martian Manhunter.”
Phantom perks up at the last name, “Wait, like a real Martian? I thought they died out a long time ago.”
“You know of us,” J’onn asks, perplexed.
“Yeah, there’s a few of you guys floating around the Zone,” Phantom shrugs before resuming looking at the circle, “Is this like a question circle? I couldn’t stop myself from saying that.”
“It shouldn’t be, it is merely a summoning and containment spell. Constantine?”
“Mighta slip some truth spellwork into it, had to be sure it was telling the truth. Pan dimensional beings aren’t really know for being trustworthy, Zatanna.”
“Constantine,” Zatanna shouts at the man in outrage.
“First of all,” Phantom interrupts, “Not an it, I’m a he and second I don’t exactly have a problem with the spell. Just be aware that it’s reduced your any number of questions down to three and then I get a turn asking the questions. Deal?”
“Deal,” Batman says before the two magic users can speak. “I’ve already thought of the most prominent question we needed answers for.”
“Alright, shoot.”
“We have been noticing an alarming number of dimensional tears in a small town on our planet and your energy reading is almost always in that town. Why?”
Phantom tilts his head stroking an imaginary beard, “Hmm, I’ll allow that as a single question I suppose. The dimensional tearing is a combination of a couple of reasons; the city is in a thin spot between your world and the Ghost Zone or the Infinite Realms as some of the older ghosts call it. The other reason is because there are a couple of human scientists who have punched a permanent hole into the Zone, usually natural portals appear and disappear at random and usually only for a few seconds at most. Honestly I surprised you’re worried about the portals now when the Bermuda Triangle has existed forever.”
“What does the- No, nevermind.” Phantom smirks at the Batman’s almost slip of a question. “You still haven’t answered my question; why is your energy signature always in that town?”
“Because it’s m̷̢̨̛̰͍̮̝̪̞͉̩̬͕̣̮̱̻̎͋̉͘ͅį̵͍̫̭̱̝̮̯̞̝̺̤̺̦̝͖̜̅̉̂̊́̑̿̆̈́̕͝n̴̫͎̼͇̭̾ẽ̵̱̭̗̥̱͕̒̋͛͂͆̑͝͠ͅ, I protect it by sending the other ghosts back to the Zone.”
“Who are the most dangerous beings from that dimension and are they a threat to this world?”
“That depends on who you- Me and Clocky. Wait really? Huh, I mean I guess I could see it; Space and Time. I guess this circle means like, the Truth and not what I believe to be true. That’s good to know. Anyways that’s your second question, best make the last one count.”
Batman thinks for a moment, looking over Phantom with a new eye at the revelation that he was the most dangerous, him and this Clocky being at any rate, “If there is an Incursion of beings from this Ghost Zone, how do we protect the earth.”
“You don’t. I do. That’s three questions,” Phantom snaps his fingers and the world blurs as it spins, coming back into focus as Phantom is now outside of the circle and the League is in it. Phantom takes on a sharp tooth grin as he pulls a notebook from inside his body, “Now my first question is for Martian Manhunter; what was Mars like when the Martians were alive?”
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DC x DP prompt/ficlet
Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:
Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...
Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.
While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!
Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.
----------------
Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED
Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE
Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?
RR: I would like to know that too
Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!
RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?
FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...
RR: Shit
Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??
FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...
Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!
RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*
-------------
Some time and explanations later...
Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?
Tim: Fml
RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that
Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English
RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics
Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times
RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...
Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that
Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway
Danny: That's what you took from that??
RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.
Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole
RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...
Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*
Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?
RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no
Danny and Tim: Fuck
--------------
Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.
They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...
Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*
Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...
Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#tim drake#red robin#danny fenton#ficlet#batman#batfam#accidental marriage#arranged marriage
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“How do you… deal with it?”
Clark made a hum sound, raising up to look at Bruce. The other man was still facing forward, staring down at Earth through the glass of the Justice League Watchtower.
Bruce stared for another moment, revealing to Clark there was a thousand words he was carefully selecting to speak.
“When I was a child, I lost my parents. I was powerless to do anything then, and that destroyed me.”
A frown deepened on Clark’s face.
“When you were even younger, you lost your entire planet. I can’t comprehend that feeling, let alone how to survive it.”
“So,” Bruce looked at Clark, “How do you?”
He brightened, slightly, and placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. He was careful to not injure him with his super strength, and even more careful to let reject the touch if he wished.
“I,” Clark stumbled through his words, “I remember the people I do have; the people I have here.”
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It’s been exactly fifteen years, two days, 4 minutes, and 33.5 seconds since the Wayne murder. Bruce can feel time crawling under his skin, like filth under fingernail, like it’s a breathing, screaming thing.
It’s an endless, infinite supply. And yet, he feels like he’s running out of it.
The details are carved deep; Alfred’s cologne lingering on both his mother’s Stefano Cabbana fur coat, Snow White and fluffy, and his father’s sharp-looking leather jacket.
The gunsmoke. The pearls bleeding on the pavement.
“Your mother wore Armani, actually.”
The Waynes are known to cheat Death, but this is getting ridiculous.
“You’re not here.”
The Riddler, — Edward. His name is Edward Nashton, 29-years-old, forsenic accountant, Bruce’s former classmate at Gotham University.
He’s just a man, not a monster, — gasps, wide eyes confused, “Who are you talking to?”
Thomas watches Bruce’s, — Batman’s hands tighten around the swamp green jacket with mildly tamed amusement. Almost like Bruce is an infant again, shaking on his first steps.
“Pretty sure I am, chum. Also, you might wanna move Eddie here to a coffee table. That shit looks sturdy. YOU were made on one, I think,—“
He cringes, but does as he’s told. Edward’s coffee screeches when Batman slams him across it like loose change, “I’d rather not think about that.”
“Honey, it’s a very romantic story, and I resent Alfred for not talking to you about it. Now go grab a drill and some duct tape. Oh, don’t make that face, — His adrenaline levels are higher than a fucking drop head.”
Bruce doesn’t want to do it. Something just compels him to. Thomas scoffs but Bruce is too focused on the drill biting through bone to notice. Edward doesn’t feel any pain. He’s just under the illusion of it, which seems much crueler.
“You would’ve KNOWN that if you stayed in school. “
“Why are you here?”
“Now that,” His father’s smile is a serpentine, alluring and full thoothed and stained with Maverick cigarettes. His hair is slicked, crowned by red lensed sunglasses.
He looked for a dead man. “Is a smart guy question.”
—
He doesn’t sleep. He can’t.
“Your father was a hundred different things, “ Alfred sighs at him, stitching up his wounds in a tight, secure pattern. Thomas’. The ghost of the hour. “And I never understood any of them.”
Bruce is about to ask more, expand a stream of curiosity, when footsteps bang against the cave’s massive interior.
He knows each child by foot, by volume, by rhythm.
He’d know Jason dead or alive.
He’s about to greet him, choosing to ignore his father’s ghost flirting with an unsuspecting Alfred, when his baby bird beats him to it.
“Why the fuck is your dead mom following me?”
#girls after they watch fight club:#Thomas is supposed to be revenge and Martha is supposed to be redemption btw!!!#love that for them. smiley face#bruce wayne#dc#dc comics#text#batman#text post#thomas wayne#battinson#writing#ficlet#jason todd#batdad#batfamily
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Ground Control to Major Fenton.
Danny's chosen for a space mission, along with a group of other astronauts. They're gonna rendezvous at Justice League Watchtower, and then go for a part of space as of yet unexplored as a part of a Justice League effort to map the cosmos.
But something goes wrong with the ship.
And one of the escape pods gets damaged.
So Danny tricks the Captain of the team into a pod and fires it away into space.
He then immediately turns around and makes sure that the ship won't explode, just turning off his breathing on the way.
Danny did this because, unbeknownst to his employers, he is the only person on the crew capable of surviving the harsh nothingness of Space. As a half ghost, he doesn't need to breath and his heart doesn't need to beat, even while in human form.
So when the Justice League sends out Hal for salvage and corpse retrieval, Hal get's the absolute shit scared out of him. Like, the dude almost legitimately shit himself.
It went a little like this.
He managed to pry his way into the dead ship; no oxygen, no gravity, no nothing. He checks the rooms one by one, noting along the way that the ship shows signs of attempted repair.
His head is filling with images of the lone astronaut, Fenton, desperately doing his best to save the ship.
All the rooms are empty.
So if Fenton was trying to save the ship, then that would mean the last place to check would be the engine room.
Hal goes to the engine room, and there, cradled in wires that had been pulled from the ceiling, is the corpse of astronaut Daniel James Fenton.
The wires show clear efforts from the man to anchor himself in place, probably when the gravity went, so that he could still try to save the ship.
With a heavy heart, Hal moves forward and starts to detangle Fenton.
Only for Fenton's hand to shoot out with inhuman speed and catch his wrist in an iron grip, and when Hal looks up he sees a pair of glowing, inhuman eyes staring at him from an impossibly pale face, the neck at a strange an unnatural angle.
Hal screams like a little bitch and runs to the other side of the engine room.
Danny, however, had just tied himself to some cables so he could finally get some fucking sleep without bouncing around the room. (He woulda gone to his bunker and just used the seatbelts on his bed, but that room was Creepy without lights).
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#story prompt#phanfic#Yes the entire thing was recorded#all of Justice League knows how high u can scream Hal#Danny's in for a huge scolding by Batman#“you knew you had abilities to enable you to survive impossible conditions and neglected to tell us. unacceptable.”#long post#ficlet
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Tim: ...so that's how I ended up in Bludhaven with a fake uncle.
Jason: ...
Tim: What?
Jason: Let me make sure I'm understanding this correctly before I respond. Your dad was murdered. Your stepmom, who never adopted you, was in a mental hospital. Dick was awol. Cass was still basically a baby as well and was finding herself. B was avoiding you because he felt guilty about getting your dad murdered.
Tim: He didn't-
Jason *speaking over him forcefully*: Then you dropped out of school, so no one could possibly miss you while you lived with a man who was a complete stranger to you and who knew you had money and no adults worth a damn in your life.
Jason *takes deep breath*: Why the fuck would you do that?!
Tim: Well, at first I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me and Batman needs Robin, but we also both needed some space to grieve. I had to make sure I was still available to Bruce while also leaving us some breathing room. Plus, Dick was out of town, so Bludhaven needed a vigilante anyway.
Jason: Okay, ignoring the twenty other things wrong with that statement, did it never occur to you that Bruce could just adopt you?
Tim: Well, Yeah. But he'd just adopted Dick, which was a really big deal for him, emotionally, you know? I was worried he'd feel bad if Bruce turned around and adopted me.
Jason: You were worried Dick would feel bad if Bruce adopted you when you had literally no one else?
Tim: Yeah. I was used to being alone anyway and you know how he can get when it comes to Bruce.
Jason: So you decided to move in with a strange man who was down on his luck and might, oh, I don't know, murder the weird, wealthy child whose bank account he had access to?!
Tim: I paid him. I never gave him direct access to my bank account.
Jason: Oh, well that makes everything fine then. He'd just have to force you to hand over more cash. Or hold you hostage against Bruce. Or blackmail you to keep you as his baby sugar daddy.
Tim: I set up everything about his fake identity so he couldn't try to blackmail me without looking really sketchy himself and he never knew about Robin, so what would he blackmail me with anyway?
Jason: How about telling Bruce what you did, since the charade was obviously mostly for him?
Tim: Then he'd risk losing everything while I moved in with Bruce. Nothing he could do against me would gain him anything, so what was the worst that could happen?
Jason: He could have murdered you in your sleep! He could've jumped you while you were vulnerable! He could've threaten to report you to a truancy officer if you didn't do something he wanted! He could've drugged you and sold you to traffickers! Fuck, I don't want to keep thinking about all the horrible things that could've happened to your idiotic baby past self. So let me just reiterate the important question: What the fuck were you thinking?!
Tim: Why does every funny story I tell you end up with you freaking out and yelling at me?
Jason: Because every story you think is a funny childhood anecdote is actually a fucking terrifying misadventure that you just somehow survived!
#fanfiction#mine#ficlet#funny#BatBros#BatPups#Bat Family#Jason Todd#Tim Wayne#Tim Drake#Red Hood#Robin#Red Robin#DC#Comics#Bruce Wayne's adopted children
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