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lordgrimoire · 3 months

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So, an Idea, or AU I had regarding the good ol DPxDC.

I’m not sure what sort of disaster Amity’s ghost problem would be classified as, but think of what would happen if the local EMS (Emergency Services like Fire Departments, Law Enforcement, Emergency Medical, etc.) pretty much started jumping over the Mayor from the get-go? What if hard proof of these hijinx, for a brief time, were able to get out of Amity?

Well the Governor would probably have someone take a look, and once nonsense is confirmed (especially of its weird nonsense that looks a little to close to supers) they send in the National Guard, at first to keep an eye on the situation.

Then comes the Ghost Investigation Ward, and things go from moderately worrying to “WTF” real quick. And things start looking less Small Town USA and more Stalins Town USSR, at the height of Stalins Purges.

Admittedly it’s not immediate, and during the time between being put on “Indefinite Alert” and actually being relived this unit (I’m thinking a Battalion Sized force so about 1,200 soldiers/guardsmen total) ends up befriending the locals, and much to the Mayor, and GIWs, frustration, Phantom, as well as Red Huntress.

This leads to a standoff, the GIW can really only do what they want because of the Governments permission for them to do so, but engaging National Guard, who had not been federalized, may cause an issue or two. So they bring up the issue with someone who they think will back them up, their new boss Lex Luthor.

Now Lex isn’t a fool, but he figures out how the Justice League isn’t being called is due to a jammer the GIW set up and figures he can take a look around incognito like, or more accurately get trusted members of The Goonion, who he had Federally given approval to, to go take a look around.

When Alex gets the full story, and not just the GIWs original story but also updated info from the Doctors Fenton, who are now VERY worried, because they were wrong about Ghosts in more ways than they originally thought they may have been. Suffice to say, when Lex manages to get a copy of "The History of The Infinite Realms" and finds that Krypton's Afterlife is GONE, as in they did something similar to what the GIW is planning, he starts hitting the "Abort" Button with fury. Only to be told "Too late we're underway, we're going through a tunnel, what? What?" And now Lex decides Enough is Enough. Lex does two things, first he sends the GO order for the National Guard Battalion in Amity Park, then he starts trying to get a hold of the Justice League because "Listen I know you dislike me but I am willing to drop it all if you HELP WITH THIS BS THAT I JUST INHERITED!" Meanwhile back in Amity Things go from 0 to 100 faster than an Flash, that being the National Guard heard "GO" and immediatly started blasting. The Townfolks: Confused The Ghosts: Confused Team Phantom: Confused and Afraid The Ghost Hunters who are now studying Ghost Culture and the like: Very Confused and sorta getting Arrested. The GIW: Full of Bullet Holes, Screaming, and On Fire Meanwhile, The National Guard are waiting around two hours later with Phantom for any "Federal" News to come through: So the New President decided the Anti-Ecto Acts are BS, unfortunately they haven't been overturned yet so we're all most likely going to be marked as traitors. Mind if we hide out somewhere our bosses can't find us? Also the Justice League never actually knew any of the BS we've been going through, GIW Had some Jammer set up.

Phantom, Tired of all the damage and killing the GIW has caused in Amity Park: I'll try, but I'm not sure how much good it will do if the League shows up.

TLDR: Amity Park during it's entire run has a Battalion of US National Guard camped out in the outskirts/abandoned parts of town and they figure out most of the situation regarding Phantom not being the Villain Mayor Masters and the GIW Claim him to be. Following this logic they turned around and at the first opportunity attacked the GIW and pushed them out of Amity Park.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

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xamiipholia · 2 months

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Horizon Machine Idea - The Abyssal

Lv. 55 Combat Class Aquatic Machine. Real-World Megafauna: Mesonychoteuthis

The Abyssal, like the Floodrage, has been designed as a countermeasure to Quen naval supremacy. Imperial expansion has lead to mass systematic machine harvesting as the Quen empire and their need for resources has grown - the abyssal was created by HEPHAESTUS to impede the culling of aquatic machines and is able to destroy aquatic vessels with alarming speed and brutality.

The Abyssal has been built using some of HEPHAESTUS' newly-integrated Zenith tech that allows it to have a semi-decentralized nervous system. Dismemberment will not render the arms inert - they will reanimate after a brief period and can be reattached by the abyssal using Zenith nanotech if left alone for too long. Any dismembered limbs or removed parts must be damaged beyond functionality as quickly as possible.

The Abyssal is armed with twin electrical flails, two crusher arms equipped with grinder saws, auxiliary shock coils, Purgewater jets, an adhesive jet that uses an electroconductive variety of machine adhesive, and a radar jammer. It uses two pairs of dorsal-mounted repulser turbines for propulsion and three-dimensional underwater mobility.

When the Abyssal has firm hold of a ship, it can divert power from its weapons systems to overcharge the thrusters, allowing it to drag vessels underwater.

Extremely dangerous. Do not engage without a machine mount or ship-mounted heavy weaponry.

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Okay actually this was super fun and I don't think I've ever done something quite like this before. It took a week on and off and gave me a chance to play around with a bunch of new painting tools. Still getting used to digital but - happy with some progress.

Horizon font found here: https://fontmeme.com/fonts/horizon-font/

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laceygames-sidetheorist · 25 days

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The Lacey Games Neocities Site was updated with new games. Jay is missing.

All are clickable, but they just lead to a blank page saying "Lacey's Makeup Parlour".

Jay's Skating Game and Lacey and the Jammers are both missing. On the "about us" page, Jay's picture is also missing, leading to the "not found" image.

While this is suspicious it was updated on April Fools, the good thing is we get to see a lot of new Lacey art!

#lacey games #lacey's flash games #lacey's wardrobe #lacey's diner #lacey's petshop #lacey and the jammers #ghosttundra #lacey's love meter #lacey's makeup parlour #lacey & maisie bake #lacey's house makeover #maisie's first day of school #lacey's slacking #lacey games neocities

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sleepiexx · 1 year

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The Love of my Life and my Worst Enemy Pt.2

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.1

Note: if I get so much as one person interested in another part of this I will write it, do not tempt me or so help me god

Summary: Valeria and (Y/N) escape prison and live happily ever after mwah

Warnings: guns, wound cleaning, kinda angsty at some parts, prison escape, Valeria kills a few people whoopsie

Word count: 1806

The plan was carried out without a hitch, not that (Y/N) knew that, she wasn’t sure exactly what the plan was. All she knew was her own role in it; a countermeasure Valeria had in place just in case she was double crossed.

She didn’t even know when it would happen, just that she needed to be ready. Valeria woke her in the middle of the night, whispering quickly, “Come on, (Y/N), it’s time.”

She shuffled off the top bunk and to her feet quickly. She dug into the underside of Valeria’s mattress, pulling out a small device. It wasn’t the best hiding place but Valeria had somehow found out that there wouldn’t be a room check for another few days, enough time for them to set things in motion.

The device was a makeshift service jammer, something of (Y/N)‘s own design. It would cut comms between the prison officers just long enough that Valeria could lead the both of them to the control room and cut the power. That wasn’t the endgame, however. That was just to buy (Y/N) time; in the dark, Valeria would make her way back to their room where she would “distract” the guards with a shank she’d acquired. In the mean time, (Y/N) would work diligently to get the prison gates open. It took some time but she managed, waiting patiently in the control room for Valeria to come get her.

A rhythmic knock sounded at the door, one she and Valeria had agreed on. She opened the door to be greeted by the blood-soaked cartel leader on the other side.

“Did you do it?”

(Y/N) scoffed, “Of course I did it.”

Valeria grinned and patted her shoulder, leaving behind a bloody handprint, “I knew you had it in you. Now come on, my men are waiting for us.”

(Y/N) nodded and followed Valeria.

“You know how to use a gun?” Valeria asked.

“Aim and pull the trigger?”

Valeria exhaled through her nostrils, holding up the gun and messing with the safety.

“Safety on.” She switched the lever, “Safety off. Use it wisely, it’s a pistol so there isn’t a lot of ammo to waste.”

(Y/N) nodded and reached her hand out for Valeria to pass it to her, but Valeria didn’t move, she had more to show.

“This is how you reload your weapon, time it out so you always have a bullet in the chamber when you need it. Don’t shoot me, don’t shoot any of my men. Understand?”

(Y/N) nodded her head, something that displeased Valeria.

“I need words. Do you understand?”

“Yes- yeah, yeah I do.” (Y/N) stuttered out in response, taken aback by her cell mate’s menacing demeanor despite having experienced it many times in the short span they’d known each other.

Valeria nodded and passed her the pistol.

(Y/N) watched Valeria’s back as she mowed down seasoned prison guards like they were nothing but a bunch of rookies. (Y/N) had never been so scared yet so turned on by a woman in her entire life.

She never had to shoot anyone, by the time Valeria took down all the guards in their immediate vicinity, her men in the cartel had appeared to back them up.

They were escorted to two separate aircrafts waiting outside the prison for them. The men loaded up on the large cargo plane, (Y/N) went to follow but was tugged away by Valeria.

“They aren’t wanted people, they’re going back to Las Almas. You and me, however, need to wait this out elsewhere.” Valeria explained, pulling (Y/N) toward a helicopter.

They sat in seats lining the wall. It was just them along with the pilot and co-pilot. (Y/N) fiddled with the seat belt, unsure of how exactly to fasten it.

“Never flown before?” Valeria questioned.

“Well, uhm, not in a chopper.” (Y/N) admitted.

Valeria unclipped her seat belt, walking towards (Y/N) to fasten it for her. (Y/N)’s air caught in her lungs at the proximity, feeling Valeria’s knuckles graze her torso as she fastened the belt.

“There,” Valeria muttered, raising her voice shortly after to speak to the pilot, “We’re ready for takeoff!”

The flight felt like hours, it likely was. The wind whipped through (Y/N)’s hair as the loud noise of the chopper whirring rang in her ears. As they finally touched down, (Y/N) took in her surroundings. Large trees, mountains, signs with English on them. It looked like they were in the U.S., probably somewhere in the Rockies.

She followed Valeria’s lead as they walked towards a car. Valeria sat in the drivers seat, (Y/N) in the passenger side, neither said a word as they drove away from the private aircraft hangar.

Finally, they reached their destination. Tucked away in one of Valeria’s lavish safe houses, the two were alone.

Valeria tossed her some clothes, they were fairly plain and a size or two larger than what (Y/N) was used to wearing.

“Put those on, can’t stay in the jumpsuit forever.”

(Y/N) wondered if she should ask where a bathroom is to change but shook that idea away when Valeria herself started stripping in the middle of the living room. She hesitantly took off her clothes, wincing slightly as her sore body finally felt the full extent of the torture she’d endured.

In prison, she was almost in a state of shock, still hardly feeling the effects of what Katya had done to her. Now, though, the adrenaline of the break out slowly wore off and everything hurt.

She slipped on the pants quickly, tying the drawstring so they fit. As she reached for her shirt, she was stopped by a gentle caress. She turned, meeting eyes with Valeria.

“She did this to you?” Valeria seethed, gently tracing the dark purple bruises, inflamed cuts, and burn marks along (Y/N)’s torso.

(Y/N) was at a loss for words, mortified that Valeria had seen her like that, had seen her weakness. In prison, she’d made sure to never change in front of Valeria. No one needed to know exactly what had happened, how she couldn’t fight back, how weak she’d been.

(Y/N) saw no point in lying, dejectedly nodding.

Valeria’s eyes softened before hardening once more into a glare, filled with rage.

“I’ll kill her.” She muttered, not a threat but a promise.

She tugged on (Y/N)’s wrist, pulling her to another room. She led (Y/N) into what looked like the master bedroom of the large house, continuing into the bathroom.

(Y/N) watched as she rummaged through the cabinets for a first aid kit. As she wet a cotton pad and dabbed it on one of the wounds, (Y/N) flinched away.

“What- what are you doing?”

“You do not want those getting infected, trust me.” Valeria said, pressing her to the counter so she couldn’t squirm away and returning to cleaning off (Y/N)’s wounds.

As (Y/N) winced and whimpered at the stinging pain from the alcohol entering her cuts, Valeria showed compassion for the first time since they’d met. She grabbed one of (Y/N)’s hands, rubbing circles into her knuckles.

“Squeeze my hand, it’ll make it hurt less.”

So she did. She sat patiently as Valeria cleaned and dressed her wounds, frequently squeezing Valeria’s calloused hands. It wasn’t like she had any other option than to sit still, with Valeria’s hips pressed firmly against her own, keeping her in place. It was tough love, something Valeria had mastered.

(Y/N) felt vulnerable, weak, exposed. Shame soaked her to her very core. As if it had been her own fault that everything had happened. If she hadn’t been so stupid, so trusting, so naive, maybe, just maybe she could have foreseen Katya’s betrayal. Her eyes watered in utter embarrassment.

Valeria patted her hip, pulling her out of her stupor, “I’m done, you can go put on your shirt now. I’m going to clean all of this up.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Thank you,” she muttered, afraid to speak any higher at the chance of her voice breaking.

She walked all the way back to the living room, where her shirt had been left on the couch. Finally alone, she couldn’t stop the flow of tears from coming down. She tossed the shirt on quickly and tried hard to calm herself. Rubbing her eyes in hopes they’d stop crying before wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit down on her lip so she wouldn’t let out a sob. A hand touched her back but at this point, she was too far gone to care about Valeria seeing her cry.

She expected rejection, expected Valeria to see her tears and scoff at how weak she was. And yet, Valeria’s touch was nothing but gentle and soft, pulling (Y/N) into her arms, allowing her to sob into her shoulder. After a long silence with no noise but the sounds of crying, Valeria finally spoke.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

(Y/N) sobbed harder, half out of raw pain and half out of relief.

God, it felt so nice to feel the loving caress of another human being for the first time in nearly a month. (Y/N) unwrapped her arms from around herself and wrapped them around Valeria’s waist, pulling her in tight.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, ‘m sorry.” She whined.

Valeria moved her hand up and down her back, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

(Y/N) stood there for a long while, tear stained face buried in Valeria’s shoulder as her body was wracked with sobs. Valeria muttered hushed reassuring words, which eventually soothed the other girl to a calm state, still hiccuping, but no longer sobbing.

“So strong.” Valeria whispered, “Everything that vile woman put you through and you’re still standing. I’m proud of you.”

(Y/N) couldn’t speak. She lifted her head from Valeria’s shoulder and gazed into her eyes. She felt a hurricane of emotions brewing, in the eye, longing. She went with her gut, leaning in slowly, giving Valeria time to pull away if she wanted, before meeting her lips in a tender kiss. It was slow, and soft, but it lasted. Lips moving in sync, speaking a million words that they hadn’t dared to utter. Even as they broke apart, the touch of it lingered on either girls’ lips.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight, but fuck I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.” (Y/N) murmured. Valeria silenced her with another kiss.

The rest of that night was passed exchanging kisses on the couch, forever altering the course of both of their lives.

#valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza x reader #valeria x reader #valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria garza cod #call of duty fanfic #call of duty valeria #hurt/comfort #angst

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itsohh · 1 year

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The Engagement

A/N: Female reader, I’m calling them parts even though its a series and not a multichapter fic. Feels good to write some angst. Floreance and the Machine was good. Encore was the best part of the concert ngl.

Summary: In the middle of a mission, Simon picks properly the worst possible time to ask you a rather important question.

Word count: 1519

Warnings: Angst, injury

AO3 Masterlist Series Masterlist

Sometimes missions went well, all according to plan with little problems. Quick and easy. In and out. Five minutes gain intel, kill some people and get out. In other cases, things went poorly. Intel could be wrong, there could be more people than expected. There had been the odd time that the blueprints supplied were out of date. Unfortunately for you, out of those two options, this situation was the latter.

Communication was hard it hear, static breaking through every order, every command. Only the briefest of words could be heard through them. Jammers. "Captain?" Gaz's voice was a shout next to you and although you heard him next to you, his voice never came through the com.

"What do we do now?" He turned to you, keeping an eye on your combined surroundings. Cover allowed the pair of you to talk.

"The missions a bust, fuck. We have to hope that Soap managed to complete it. For now, we head to extraction."

"Copy."

Gunfire consumed the air and slowly but surely the pair of you made decent time to the extraction point. It was certainly far too hot for a proper extraction but you had hoped that the others would at least regroup with you there. When you neared a crackling broke through your communications and you heard the sound of your Captain's voice.

"Captain!" You ducked down behind cover, Gaz following your lead. "Captain, can you hear me?"

"--- Copy --- Gaz?"

"With me."

"Good --- extraction --- Ghost --- hurt --- south ---"

"Negative sir, repeat?"

"--- Half a klick southwest --- extraction---" With a roar of buzzing the Captain went silent.

"Captain? Captain?" No reply.

Scoped in, Gaz peaked over your cover to examine the estimated location that Price had spoken. "It's on the other side of this hill, if we can get to it the hill will act as cover for a heli." You nodded at the man.

"Right, let's get to extraction then."

If one thing could go right it was probably the best thing that could go right. Just as Gaz had said, on the other side of the hill a chopper lay in wait. The pilot was there with another person next to him.

"Good to see the pair of you. Was a mission on its own trying to get ahold of anyone." The pilot welcomed the pair of you aboard.

"Yeah, there's a bunch of interference, we think someone is jamming." Gaz spoke while the pair of you attached yourselves to a tether.

"Have you heard from any of the others?" You leaned over the seat slightly to look through the front of the helicopter.

"Negative, not since we had the initial call."

"Shit, any exspected ETA?"

"Negative again Doctor. We have cover here for extraction but I doubt for long."

"Hey, I think I can see them!" Gaz's voice had you snap back and look through the open side. Two figures were tight together while another covered their back. A few blinks and you were able to make out how Ghost leaned on Soap while Price was behind them. Right away from the posture, you could tell that Ghost was injured.

"Fuck!" Immediately you started to prepare. Scissors and emergency bandages were pulled out of your medic pack while your mind turned fully into medical care mode as Gaz and Soap helped Ghost into the chopper. "Lie him down, Gaz strap his leg in. Exit wound Soap? Any other wounds?"

"Negative, still in his lower torso. He's lost a lot of blood." True to his words, blood covered Ghost's shoulder and chest as well as his hands and Soap. "It went right through his vest. Sniper."

"Help me get him out of it. I can't see with it on."

"On it." Like a well-oiled machine, the pair of you removed his vest and you promptly started to cut away his shirt underneath.

"Bullets still inside Ghost, don't know how deep but I need to stop this blood flow." Your focus was completely on your partner- no, patient. So much so that you didn't notice the chopper lift off the ground or Price's concerned gaze. Light strained gasps were muffled through his mask were all that he could manage to get out.

"What I'm going to do is wrap you up okay? Going to stop that blood flow so we can operate when we have more blood." You tore your eyes off him to glance at Soap. "Help me angle him for a second. This needs to go around him." Something akin to a groan rumbled from Ghost’s body as the pair of you lift him off the ground slightly, just enough for you to slip the bandage around him. There was a sudden movement from Ghost as his hand snapped out and wrapped itself around Soap's wrist. “It’s okay Ghost, we will put you down in a second.”

Yet Ghost didn’t let go. “Lay him back down.” Your eyes could only afford to dart between the two men for a second, needing to secure the bandage. With what little strength Ghost had, he pulled Soap's hand towards his chest, their eyes having a conversation.

“Don’t tell me you actually…” When Ghost didn’t let go of the man, Soap let out a curse under his breath and his hand went to the front pocket of his pushed-aside vest.

“John?” Eyes flashing up you gave him a confused look.

“This- he.” Soap swallowed and opened the small box and there sat a metal band. A small simple ring with engraving on the inside. “He wants to marry you.” What. You froze for a second. Simon was asking you to marry him? Your mind was transported back to when the pair of you had been joking about it, just months ago. A hypothetical he wished to make into a reality. He wanted you to be with him for the rest of his life, someone to love and cherish. To spend every waking moment by your side. That fact circled in your mind. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

...

The rest of his ever-shortening dying life! You snapped out of your frozen daze, wide eyes as you forced yourself into your focused state again. Any longer could have killed him.

“Are you serious Simon? No. I’m not accepting a proposal from Soap.” You pulled the bandage sight and finished securing it. “Do you think my medical skills are that piss poor that you're going to fucking die? No, you're living Simon and then you can ask me yourself.” Your voice hissed, passion in your eyes. There was anger but not an anger that could be described as mad. You were scared, terrified of losing him. Simon was acting like he was already gone, that this was his final moments. There would be no tomorrow. No more waking up in his arms, no more cheeky dark jokes under his breath. No more late nights watching the world go by. No more holidays together, warm and safe in the comfort of your shared bath. No more staring into those beautiful and expressive brown eyes of his.

Yet you couldn't accept that. Couldn't accept what he had decided. You hadn't spent all those years becoming a doctor only for the most important person in your life to die in your hands. He would live, he would see tomorrow. He would ask you to marry him with his own mouth, in the privacy of each other's company. Mask removed and smile full of heart. Simon would be there at the end of the aisle and Price would deliver you to him.

Gaz would cry and Soap would tease him but follow suit. Simon would retire with you every night after. Right there at your side. Exhausted but happy to be in each other's company. Perhaps one day in the future one of you would go on a mission and never return or perhaps the pair of you would grow old together, retire and be a pair of grumpy old people, still so in love after so long of life together. Yet he didn't think that dream would come true. Simon thought he was going to die here. But no he wouldn't, you had decided he was going to live and god help anyone who implied otherwise.

Ghost's body shook, just a tad. Barely noticeable at all and for a second your eyes scanned for any other wound that you had missed. That was until you realised he was laughing. The hand that had previously been around Soap's wrist, reached for you. His blood-stained gloves graced your face, a kiss of contact. One that stained your face crimson with his fleeting life. And he continued to shake, continue to laugh. Expresion hidden away behind his mask but with eyes so gentle and full of kindness. A look only ever reserved for the pair of you. Laughing ever so slightly as his eyes slowly closed and didn't open up.

#ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #mw2 #cod #call of duty #simon riley

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half-dead-ham · 1 year

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Ch. 3 Hysteria

Chapter 3 of Dead men's Deals, courtesy of the DPxDC ship week! Day 1? Arranged marriages ofc ;). I thought it was a little ironic that I started this just before this was announced, but here we are!

Here's; [Ao3], [ch. 1 & prompt], [ch. 2]

The rest of Damian's patrol was maddeningly quiet, which of course meant that he had to run around with his siblings incessant prattling along the comm line. It seemed as though his half an hour of silence had caused quite the stir, and Richard was halfway to Gotham thanks to his silence.

Joy.

“Robin, you can’t be mad at me for worrying after you went quiet.” Richard huffed into the comm over the wind. “Forty-five minutes is a long time, and things could happen.”

“I am fine, Nightwing. As I stated previously, an informant approached me about a private case that needed my attention. I did not realize he had a signal jammer on his person until he had left.” Damian snapped back as he reached the cave, pushing down most of his ire at his siblings' insistent mother-henning. He did not like being coddled when he was young, and he certainly did not like being coddled as an adult, it was demeaning to his skills.

“You’re still getting checked for mental manipulation, Dami,” Timothy called from behind him, peeling his mask off and pushing his hair from his face. “No amount of treats will get you out of it tonight. Better safe than sorry, right?”

And Damian wanted to argue, he really did. But then he remembered and felt that strange energy now nestled snugly in his chest next to his heart. It was cold, but not overly so. When he was not focusing on it he could almost make himself believe that that whole interaction was a hallucination, a figment of his overly stressed subconscious acting out to help him destress from something he couldn’t control. But then he would think about it again, and that cold something would move, reminding him that this was his reality.

Something in him whispered about the absurdity of his life, another replied that this wasn’t even the strangest thing he’d experienced.

“Fine, Drake. I’ll subject myself to your pointless tests, but only after I remove my gear.” Timothy almost looked surprised at how easily Damian agreed to the tests, he didn't know how easily he had swayed to please the being he had met now mere hours ago. How easily he wished to comply with the sense of trust that wasn’t his own. He felt it would be necessary to comply with the routine, no matter how tedious it was.

They both made their way to the changerooms in silence after that, Timothy most likely deep in thought as to whether Damian’s new agreeableness was something to be celebrated or feared and Damian finally starting to tire after needlessly pushing himself for the first part of his patrol.

It was reckless, now that the weight of so many uncertainties wasn’t nipping at the back of his mind like some sort of rabid animal. To exert himself in an attempt to outrun what he couldn’t control was pointless, and now he was paying the price for it in lead lined limbs. Nothing he needed to worry his siblings over, of course, that would only make him more suspicious. But he was finding the prospect of his soft, encompassing bed very inviting at this point.

Damian had already taken his mask and cape off, and shucked one glove into his locker before he froze, thumb hooked under the lip of his remaining left glove.

The mark.

It would be visible to everyone once he took his glove off. Then he would need to explain Danny and the contract and the letter from his mother and then he would have to withstand Richards' whining. He could not let anyone see the mark.

“Damian? You okay?” Timothy looked over, noticing his hesitancy and that he was still mostly in uniform. He did not like to linger in the changerooms and Timothy knew that. Even with his family and the years he’d spent in the manor he felt needlessly exposed being among others in a state of undress. Usually he would be changing as quickly and efficiently as possible to avoid being needlessly exposed for longer than needed be, but now… Damian moved his hand from the glove to his suit instead, intending to keep the glove on until the last possible moment.

“How many times must I tell you that I am fine for you to accept it, Drake?” He snapped again without the heat, his mind elsewhere. Timothy simply huffed as he pulled on an old button down, then slipped back out into the cave to wait.

There was no longer a reason for Damian to hesitate. Not that he was hesitating. Pointless hesitation was still a weakness Damian wouldn’t tolerate from himself even now. He slipped out of the rest of his suit and pulled his sweatpants on before focusing back on his still gloved left hand.

Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the black snowflake with the stylized D resting just above his third knuckle and the band circling his middle finger. He stared at it, examining the minute fractals the tattoo branched into, eyes trailing the feather light lines that connected the D to the rest of the shape, turning his hand to better inspect the black ring now imprinted onto his digit.

Danny had said he wished to annul the contract that had forced this mark onto his hand. Although Damian had threatened violence, there was no grand battle. Their interaction was brief but not unpalatable. And Danny…

Exhaustion made his thoughts swirl through his head, making thoughts connect for a fraction of a second before breaking apart leaving him confused. Slipping his shirt on, he frowned. After all this time, he thought he was able to understand his own emotions better than this, after all this time, after all the talks he had had with his two eldest brothers. Damian had thought he would know how to feel after he had met the Lord of Death, but their interaction just left him lost.

He hated how little control he had over the situation.

He walked out of the changeroom toward his brother, hoping a good sleep and the answers from tomorrow night would help his tumultuous feelings.

~~~~~

“Father,” Damian called after the head of the house as he headed to his office after breakfast. Bruce turned, one eyebrow raised in curiosity as his youngest strode to catch up.

“What’s up, chum?” He asked as he resumed his cant, keeping pace with his son.

“I have… Information on the private case we discussed previously,” Damian confessed. His father raised an eyebrow at his words, confused.

"The letter, father," he pressed, unconsciously clenching his left hand into a fist.

His eyes widened in realization before the mask of the Bat settled on his father's face, expression hard and calculative. He nodded, then ever so slightly sped up his pace to the office.

They walked in, and as soon as Bruce shut the door behind them he turned to Damian. “Did Talia send someone? Did you see her? Does it have anything to do with you comm going offline last night?”

Damian took his place in one of the plush armchairs before replying with a heavy sigh. “Mother has not contacted me since she sent the letter father, I would have informed you otherwise and you know this.”

Sitting down himself, Batman narrowed his eyes. “But this is related to why your comm went down last night?”

Glancing to his hand, Damian nodded. Batman followed his gaze, but like Timothy the night previous, did not react to the black mark that now adorned Damian’s hand. It seemed, until proven otherwise at least, that no one but Damian and the Lord of Death could see their binding mark. Damian was both relieved that he didn’t need to explain the mark to his family, and frustrated that this was just one more thing he couldn’t validate were he to try.

Huffing, Damian lifted his gaze back to his father. “I met my betrothed last night,” he stated flatly.

Instantly tension gathered in his fathers frame, posed to react. From where Damian sat he could almost see the gears in Batman’s head working on plans and contingencies to keep his son safe from whatever monster that might wish to take him from them.

He supposed that he wouldn’t be the only one getting shocked by his encounter.

“Were you hurt?” Batman asked, his voice dropping to the tone he uses when asking for a mission report.

“He did not hurt me,” he replied just as flatly as before. It was true, Danny had not harmed him in any lasting physical way. The jury is still out on any other way until tonight.

Batman recognized all the things he didn’t say with his answer, narrowing his gaze as he studied his son. There were no doubt things he would be wanting to ask by what they meant, about how he may have harmed him in those forty-five minutes. Knowing they would get nowhere if they stayed on this topic, Damian pushed ahead, “He asked to meet again tonight so that he may explain more about our… arrangement.”

“No,” Batman immediately states, much to Damian’s annoyance. “You aren’t going to meet a dangerous being we know nothing about.”

“But father, he has answers,” Damian retorts emphatically. “Answers about this whole mess that Mother has dropped on us.”

“Damian,” Batman glared at Damian, willing him to back down on this. Unfortunately, Damian has learned from his siblings to take that glare as a challenge. Neither backed down for what seemed like hours, Damian knew that if he were to look away it would be taken as a sign of weakness.

Finally, Batman leaned back in his chair, tension slowly leaking out of his frame until only Bruce was left, sighing in only a way a tired father could. “You know I can’t let you do this alone, right?”

Damian gave a sharp nod, “I know what risks could come with this. That is why I came to you, father, as no one else as of yet knows of my situation.”

Bruce nodded, his expression shifting to something less tired and more thoughtful. His stance was firm about letting the rest of the family know about the contract, they were all gossip mongers and as soon as one of them knew the news would spread like wildfire. He would not be able to stop the comments from his siblings, and Richard’s planner must stay hidden at all costs now that he was staying in the manor for the near future. Cassandra might be an exception to that statement, she knew how to keep things hidden when they were important, but the rest he wouldn’t trust as far as he could throw them.

His father would hopefully take their family's nature into account in his planning.

“Well then, I suppose I’ll have Dick take over my patrol route for tonight,” Bruce decided with a nod. He moved to get up, but Damian stopped him.

“Father, what do you mean?” He asked, “Why would you require Richard to take your route?”

Bruce chuckled as he strode to the door, “Well, chum, I’d need to have him take over if I’m joining you.” And then he left, much to his son's bafflement.

~~~~~

Flying in big cities was always something Danny could use to relax. Being so high up with all the glittering lights below him gave him a sense of peace he couldn’t get in his regular day to day life. He hadn’t really done it since coming here, what with his marriage manhunt, but now that Danny found the guy, he could finally appreciate the city for the beauty it had.

Ignoring all the sounds of gunshots and the stench, the place really was a gothic marvel. All gray stone buildings and gargoyles; Sam would love it here.

Of course, he did have a destination for his flight. Tonight he needed to pick his partner in magic matrimony up so that they could have a proper conversation back at his apartment. Robin… Danny wasn’t going to lie, he had a crush on the vigilante, but right now voiding the contract was more important than trying to get to know the guy.

The sun had set a few hours ago by now, prime time for the criminals to skitter out of their hiding places and the vigilantes to start herding them like cats playing with their prey. Perfect hours to go and get his birdy.

Danny followed the pull at his core as he flew invisibly through the city, trying to remember what he had looked up throughout the day. The city’s vigilantes were something of a band of cryptids, as Danny found out. Seen when needed, but mysterious enough that no one could land any solid information about them. Even the knowledge people had on them was speculative at best, and any concrete evidence was locked behind a firewall so strong it would make Technus and Tucker both drool.

He couldn’t find much on Robin, other than the odd theory thread talking about how many different kids might have taken up the mantle before the most recent one. Saying that it would've had to have been different kids because they all had different fighting styles, there were periods of time in between sightings sometimes where people think the kids have switched, and that their heights and ages had stayed relatively the same until the latest one.

The latest one has apparently been around the longest, but out of the supposed others he’s the least well liked. Danny figured that was probably due to the whole ‘assassin family’ thing so he wasn’t about to argue. His own amazing media coverage gave him a better understanding of how people liked to portray people who did things differently. From what he noticed last night the guy was rough, sure, but he did his job and did it well, so what if the criminals got a few extra scrapes?

This Robin has been around for a while now, and has actually aged. He was probably around the same age as Danny… hopefully. Ancients, he really hoped he wasn’t secretly a lot older or younger than him, that would be really awkward.

Danny had to shake himself of his thoughts as the pull on his core grew stronger, telling him he was near his… mate? Ancients no, that was gross. His fiancé? That's closer, but it's not like he and Robin wanted this. Partner in a magically binding contract? Partner might be simplest in this case.

He was coming up to the roof his partner was standing on, talking with someone over the comm in his ear.

Hm…

Danny really shouldn’t try to piss the guy off more than he probably already has, but what was a ghost king if he didn’t pull a prank every now and again? Really, Robin was in the perfect position for a harmless prank, where he knew what Danny was but wasn’t desensitized to his antics.

Mind made up, Danny descended to the rooftop below with an unseen cheshire grin.

~~~~~

Damian was in the middle of explaining what had happened on his last patrol in length to Batman when his comm gave out in a hiss of static. He hastily yanked it from his ear, wondering irately how he hadn’t noticed the disruption the first time he had met the Lord of Death. Scanning the rooftop around him, he narrowed his gaze as he realized there was no one else here.

Except there was.

The cold thing in the center of his chest was reacting to something, writhing in its space and giving off more feelings that weren’t his. They were weak, giving him ample ability to resist succumbing to them, but that it was giving off anything at all meant one thing; the Lord of Death was close.

A breath of frost across the back of his neck had him spinning, birdarang in hand. There was no one behind him. A whisper of a chuckle form his left and he was repositioning, searching the shadows for any presence. Nothing. He kept his stance for a few moments longer, seeing nothing but feeling a chill crawl up his spine.

“Boo.”

Damian spun, throwing the birdarang in the direction of the voice as he rolled to avoid whatever possible attack might happen in that second. The birdarang clanged against an air conditioning unit and stuck, its target missed completely.

Or so he thought, until a laugh echoed out from a few feet in front of him.

The Lord of Death melted into view, clutching his stomach as he curled in on himself in laughter.

“Oh- oh my Ancients!” He wheezed through gasps. “You should’ve seen your face. Oh man,” his laughter started dying out as he uncurled, wiping a fake tear from his waterline with a finger. “I really needed that. How many people in this city can say they’ve surprised one of the Bats?”

“That was unnecessary,” Damian sneered at the being across from him as he reluctantly dropped his stance.

“It really wasn’t,” Danny countered, walking over to pick the discarded birdarang out of the aluminum siding of the conditioning unit. “I find it's best to have a bit of humor before you start talking about heavy topics.”

Damian crossed his arms as Danny turned back to him. “There is nothing humorous about someone sneaking up on me only to pull such a childish prank.”

The Lord of Death just shrugged, “Was funny for me. Anyway,” he made his way back across the roof to stand in front of Damian, his expression melting into something more muted as he started playing with the blade. “You ready to get a better picture of just how badly our ancestors screwed us over?”

Damian canted his hips, silently asking himself if he was really going to ask this instead of just allowing his father to tail them. They had made a plan; Damian would go with the Lord while Batman followed behind, and should something happen to Damian he would whistle to alert his father who would then race to aid him.

Only, with a better view of Danny’s disappearance and subsequent reappearance, he had to wonder how well their plan would work. Were Danny to disappear with him, there would be little chance for his father to find them, since the signal jammer that killed his comm had also killed his tracker upon review. Would he either ask an embarrassing question, or risk needless danger? The answer was easy.

“I have a condition for going with you,” Damian asserted, to the Lord’s curiosity.

“Oh?”

“I wish to bring someone along with us, so I am not being led into a trap alone.” The offer was simple, yet Damian still prepared himself in case the being before him did not like what was given.

The Lord of Death nodded thoughtfully, to Damian’s utter confusion. “Yeah, that’s totally valid reasoning.” Danny conceded, “I don’t mind if you bring someone. It's the person on the other roof, right?”

What?

Danny turned to face the adjacent building on which Batman had chosen to keep watch of their interaction, though he was out of sight. How was he able to tell where Father had hidden himself?

Damian resisted a sigh as he watched the other wave where he approximated his father was, hidden in the shadow of the taller office building on the other side. There were no differences in the shadows from where he stood, and Danny wasn’t in any better position to see. It must be another ability of his, he supposed, as Danny turned back to him.

“You wanna call them over then?” Danny asked him innocently, as though he hadn’t just given Damian permission for backup to face a potentially extremely dangerous situation. This man was truly either brave or foolish.

Still, with a curt nod Damian whistled thrice, once long and two short; their signal for regrouping. Even with Father not expecting the change in plans it took no time for him to appear out of the shadows and join them on the roof. Damian watched as Danny tracked his father's path, never failing or backtracking to re-catch sight of the Dark Knight amongst the pitch black.

“Robin,” Batman intoned as he came upon them, keeping his gaze on target as he asked his not-question. Damian just cocked his head to the side in a silent ‘well?’ to their mysterious informant, breaking him out of the near awed stare he dawned upon seeing his father in the light.

Danny cleared his throat before giving a smile. “Well, since your wish has been fulfilled you think we could get going now?” He crooked his thumb over his shoulder, “We’re burning moonlight afterall…”

Damian rolled his eyes behind his mask but nodded, preparing himself for the journey by shifting his feet, getting ready to run. Only, as soon as he got confrontation the Lord of Death’s smile grew impossibly wide and lunged, grabbing onto both vigilantes with deceptively strong hands and pulling them with him into a swirling green tear. Neither could free themselves in time, and so they fell in after the Lord of Death.

tagged peeps: @mnemovoid

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