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greenglowinspooks · 5 months

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(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Pt. 1)

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Tw: one instance of canon-typical violence (DC), vivisection mention

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Prologue) - (Pt. 2)

(Subscription post/masterlist)

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Danny has been working for Mr. Cobblepot for over a month now.

The first few weeks he was in the Penguin’s company, he couldn’t do much of anything. Instead, Mr. Cobblepot made sure that he was well-rested and beginning to recover.

Danny cried a lot in the first week that he was there.

He cried when he ate for the first time in years; the GiW had kept him on IVs and a feeding tube, so they wouldn’t have to move him from his surgical table.

He cried when he was given his own room to stay in, when he was brought clothes to wear, when he was given a bodyguard to protect him.

He cried when Mr. Cobblepot’s doctors told him that the damage to his vocal chords was likely permanent, and that he would never sound the same again. That he would find it hard to speak at any volume above a whisper.

Apparently, he had a lot more damage to him than he had thought.

The doctors said that the scarring in his brain stem suggested his entire brain had been removed and had regrown. Danny couldn’t really disprove that, and it did line up with a pretty substantial gap in his memory, but if that was the case then why couldn’t his voice recover too?

The scarring and incredibly new tissue that showed up in scans of several other parts of his body suggested that the GiW had done the same thing with most of his organs, as well as a few limbs, and all of the fingers on his right hand.

Danny could remember that. He just didn’t want to.

Perhaps it was the feeling of pity that kept Mr. Cobblepot so understanding of Danny’s slow recovery. That didn’t really matter much, though; Danny’s energy was focused on keeping his place here, ensuring that Mr. Cobblepot didn’t decide he was no longer worth the effort.

As it turned out, there was an easy enough solution to that.

Danny was the only one who knew how to properly operate and modify the weapons and inventions stolen from the GiW.

And so, Danny had a niche he could occupy. He could be useful, useful enough that Mr. Cobblepot couldn’t get rid of him, even if he wanted to.

And, as it turns out, Danny remembered quite a lot of the theories he heard while he was on the cutting board.

As soon as he had enough muscle control of his arms to do so, he was working away at the machinery created by the GiW and his parents.

No, not his parents.

Doctors Madeleine and Jack Fenton.

Regardless of their creators, he was able to understand them quite intimately.

Maybe it was because the ectoplasm flowing through the weaponry was his own, maybe it was because he had nothing to listen to for three years other than the excited chatter of his vivisectionists as they cut him open. Maybe it was because they were both simple weaponry without a purpose.

Danny found working on the machines soothing in a way that nothing else was.

The smell of oil and grease, the sounds of mechanical clanking and metal joints squealing, the feeling of cold steel beneath his fingertips.

The first thing he did to the machines was replacing the paint, from shiny white to a matte black. That way, they were recognizable as his own modified creations.

It was only a bonus that he didn’t catch his reflection in the metal surfaces this way.

Still, his reflection was starting to become more familiar to him. It was still strangely off-putting to see, but his face was beginning to plump out from consistent eating, and his skin was beginning to lose its unhealthy pale tone, going back to a more natural pinkish color.

His eyes still looked devoid of life, but that could be ignored as long as he didn’t look at himself for too long.

Danny sighed, leaning back in his chair as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was working on modifying the ectoblasters so that they could properly hit humans, as per Mr. Cobblepot’s orders.

He probably should feel some sort of moral conflict over it, but really, Danny couldn’t find it in him to care. Maybe it was some sort of deep internal flaw, or maybe it was because he knew that they wouldn’t be shot at anyone without blood on their hands. Either way, he didn’t have any qualms with what he was doing.

As Danny reconnected the circuitry within the gun, the indicator lights on the side of the muzzle blinked to life, a familiar neon green.

Danny would have to change that color too, he thought. Maybe red would be nice instead, or an icy blue?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the door to his temporary workshop opening. Danny looked up, and smiled when he saw that his bodyguard was the one standing in the doorway.

The man, known only as Derringer, was 6’2”, built like a tank, and known for his love of unusual firearms. He was also a big fan of card games, and had been teaching Danny how to play Blackjack during their meals.

He gently closed the door behind him, strolling into the workshop.

Danny hopped out of his seat, hugging the man tightly. Derringer laughed, patting Danny on the back as he clung to him like a koala.

“Good to see you too, kid,” the man said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “you just about done in here?”

Danny nodded, letting go of the bodyguard. He picked up the gun on the desk, handing it to Derringer, and pointed to the target resting in the far corner of the room.

Derringer glanced down at Danny, shrugging before aiming the gun.

He pulled the trigger, and a large scorch mark appeared in the center of the target.

Derringer whistled appreciatively, walking over to inspect the damage.

There was a deep dent in the center of the metal target, around an inch in diameter, and a large scorch mark surrounding it. The metal of the dent was white-hot, and the area around it was somewhat warped.

“That’s real nice, kid,” Derringer said, “don’t know how you do it.”

Danny grinned, baring his teeth at the man. He smiled back, ruffling his hair.

“The boss is gonna go forward with the Arkham raid soon, so long as your guns are ready,” he said, “he’s eager to try them out for real. You think you’re up to talking to him?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding to the man.

“Good,” Derringer signed back.

Mr. Cobblepot, not wanting Danny to be limited in his speech by the damage to his vocal chords, had ensured that all of the people who interacted with him knew at least the basics of ASL.

When he wasn’t working on the ectoblasters, Danny was practicing his ASL with a dedicated tutor, or with Derringer, who learned the language when his mother had gone deaf.

“Can I eat first?” Danny signed, “I forgot to.”

“You forgot, or you didn’t want to leave your work?” Derringer asked, signing as he spoke, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, “and yeah, the boss wants to talk to you in thirty minutes. You’ve got plenty of time before then.”

“Thank you,” Danny signed, “let’s go.”

“Hey, just a sec,” Derringer said. His face had dropped into something unusually serious.

Danny nodded, tilting his head as he signed a quick “what’s wrong?”

“You’re a good kid. Even after what you’ve been through, you’re…you’re a really sweet kid,” Derringer said, looking away. “But you…you can’t keep being sweet to everyone. You gotta act tough, alright?”

“Why?”

“You just…” Derringer sighed, combing a hand through his thick, curly hair, “a lot of the guys think that you’re too weak to be here. They’re calling you the Penguin’s pet project, and the problem is that they’re not really wrong. You gotta be scarier to survive, alright? Gotham’ll eat you alive if you don’t. Just make up a persona and roll with it.”

Danny nodded slowly, processing his words for a moment.

“Like a mask?”

Derringer laughed, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“Yeah, like a mask. Just don’t start fighting crime while you’re at it.”

“Okay,” Danny signed, his movements slow. “I can do that.”

“Good on you, kid,” Derringer said, ruffling his hair once more, “now let’s go get lunch.”

The two of them ate quickly, Danny’s mind on Derringer’s advice the entire time.

He was right, and Danny knew it. He’d seen the way that some of Mr. Cobblepot’s men had looked at him.

He wasn’t anywhere near big enough to pull off the looming intimidating look that Derringer did; his doctors back in Amity had told him that he would grow to be over six foot, but his time in the GiW seemed to have stunted his growth significantly. He was only around 5’6”, and it seemed that he was going to stay that way.

In the same way, he wasn’t nearly frightening looking enough to pull off the terrifying stares of the smaller individuals working under Mr. Cobblepot. He just couldn’t get the glare right; his face would always fall back to a blank, dead stare.

Though, maybe if he played into that…

A few minutes before they had to leave, Danny excused himself to go to the restroom. He stared into the mirror, looking into his cold, dead eyes, and let his face drop.

When he adjusted his stance, and kept his eyes a bit wider than usual, he looked downright unnerving.

Danny had already noticed that most of his mannerisms were…unusual, after his stay at the GiW base. Put simply, he had forgotten what it was like to be a human.

He had noticed that most of the people around him would avoid being in his presence, and had begun mirroring their body language as much as he could to seem more normal.

Maybe, though, it would be better for him not to.

He could lean into the whole thing. An unstable young adult, experimented on by the government for years.

Danny looked into the mirror, and wide, icy eyes stared back at him.

Danny left the restroom. Derringer turned to greet him, jolting when he did. After a moment, he nodded.

“That your new look?”

“Yes. Is it good?”

“Yeah. Freaky. Gonna take some getting used to, but yeah. Now,” he said, getting up from his spot at the break room table, “let’s go see the boss.”

Danny felt anxiety bubbling up in his chest, his entire body beginning to twitch. If Mr. Cobblepot didn’t approve of the weaponry, or if he thought they were underwhelming, would he be thrown out? Would he be tortured again, or killed?

Danny shivered when they came to a stop in front of the door to Mr. Cobblepot’s office. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to make sure this went well.

“You’ll do great, kid,” Derringer whispered, pushing the door open.

Mr. Cobblepot had been talking with a few other people, but their conversation died out when Danny and Derringer entered the room. Danny’s skin crawled.

“Ah, Danny! Just the person I wanted to see,” Mr. Cobblepot said, a large smile on his face, “Do you have one of your guns with you?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding.

“Wonderful. I was just telling my associates here about your work. Do you mind giving a demonstration?”

“Where should I shoot? Do you have a target?”

Derringer was quick to translate. Mr. Cobblepot nodded, gesturing for a hired hand in the corner of the room to pull out a small wooden board, holding it up in the air.

Danny paled. He would definitely burn the man’s hands if he hit the target, even if he aimed for the furthest corner of the board.

Still, he was more terrified of disappointing Mr. Cobblepot than he was empathetic towards the man, so he drew a blaster from the holster on his leg and aimed carefully.

The blast hit the center of the board. The man holding it howled in pain, dropping the target and drawing his hand close to his chest. The nauseating smell of burning flesh filled the room.

Danny breathed shakily, in and out.

Mr. Cobblepot, for what it was worth, looked like he couldn’t possibly be happier. He and the others inspected the board on the ground closely, ignoring the hired hand as he ran out of the room, still cradling his damaged hand.

A large hole had been blown into the board, and a good portion of it had been incinerated.

“Look at that, ladies and gentlemen! I told you that Danny would deliver, and deliver he did! Imagine if that had been a person instead! Danny, what would you say would happen?”

Danny paused, trying to wince when he realized that the question wasn’t hypothetical, and Mr. Cobblepot actually wanted an answer.

“It would give them S-E-V-E-R-E burns,” Danny finger spelled the word that he didn’t know the proper sign for, “mostly S-U-R-F-A-C-E. It can’t P-E-I-R-C-E, because there is no bullet, just energy.”

Derringer translated for him.

Mr. Cobblepot frowned, and Danny frantically continued, “but it can be L-E-T-H-A-L! Burns on the head kill fast. Burns on the body make S-H-O-C-K, and kill. Strong I-M-P-A-C-T, too.”

“So they do still kill, just not instantly?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, “they’re fast. They hurt bad. Bad way to die, hurts a lot.”

“Well,” one of the other men in the room piped up, “I guess he’s not completely hopeless.”

“Of course he isn’t,” Mr. Cobblepot replied, fixing a terrifying glare onto the man, “it was my idea to bring him in, after all.”

“Danny,” Mr. Cobblepot said, turning his attention back to him, “we’re going to be collaborating with these fine individuals in the future. I’m going to need twenty guns ready for use in a week. You can handle that, can’t you?”

Danny nodded frantically.

“What kind?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mr. Cobblepot said, waving his hand dismissively, “semi-automatic is preferable, but handguns and shotguns also work. Just make sure they work perfectly.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Well, that’s all. You can leave now, and I’ll finish discussing the details with my associates.”

Danny nodded, signing him a quick “thank you, goodbye,” and slipped out of the room alongside Derringer.

They made their way back to Danny’s workshop in silence. Once they were inside, Derringer heaved a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

“You really think you can make that many guns that quickly, kid?”

“Yes,” Danny replied, “but I need your help.”

Derringer groaned, a smile on his face.

“Of course you’re putting me to work. I should’ve expected it. Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Well, first, hold this…”

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #vengeful danny #villain danny #btw Derringer is named after a type of gun #dw he isn’t the focus forever #I just felt like Danny could use like. a single person who isn’t trying to manipulate him #also I think he would get along very well with the goons :)#aside from. yknow. the whole target thing HDJDNDND #also there IS a lore related reason that his vocal chords can’t recover but the rest of his body can #you just gotta wait to see what it is >:3 #anyways. Arkham time next chapter #Awwawaw

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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It’s a long summer’s day—August 1985, to be precise—and all Eddie Munson wants to do is leave a broken down fridge in the junkyard.

“I don’t know if you can dump those here, actually,” comes a voice from somewhere above.

Eddie looks up and seriously contemplates the possibility that he’s contracted heatstroke while straining to remove the fridge from the back of his van.

Because surely that’s not Steve Harrington sitting up on the roof of an old school bus like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

“And what are you, Harrington? The junkyard inspector?”

Eddie pushes the fridge with the sole of his shoe until it topples over with a satisfying clunk into the dry grass.

Steve cups his hands around his mouth, cheering like a sports commentator. “What a shot!”

Okay. Maybe Eddie’s not the one suffering from heatstroke after all.

Or maybe this is just what happens to some people after graduation: you lose the social hierarchy of high school, and then before you know it, you’re surveying the Hawkins junkyard like it’s gym class.

Poor guy.

Eddie should really just leave him be. But… well. He’s intrigued.

“And where’s the stuff you were dumping, Harrington?” He puts on a mock grave expression, folds his hands as if in prayer. “Your car die on you?”

“Uh, no. Just.” Steve shrugs. “Just hanging out.”

“Mm-hmm, yeah, you sure picked a nice place for it. Wait, this isn’t one of your tryst locations, is it?”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Ew, no. Tryst? Can’t you just say make-out spots like a normal person?”

“Nope. Honestly, where’s the fun in that, Harrington?”

Eddie gets a bit closer to the bus, squinting against the sun. There’s a brief moment of shadow thanks to a passing cloud, and he can suddenly see evidence of what must’ve been a huge bruise healing across Steve’s face.

Steve heaves a great sigh; Eddie gets the impression that if he wasn’t here, Steve would’ve flopped backwards, using the roof like a sun-lounger.

“Hey, uh. Are you…?”

Steve makes a face. “Just ignore me. It’s the heat, man. I get… antsy.”

Eddie does not point out the fact that Steve definitely has a massive, air-conditioned house in which to escape from the sun.

“Uh-huh,” he says slowly and hopes it sounds enough like, “Meaning…?” without being too obnoxious about it.

Steve looks down at him, and for a moment it’s almost like he’s sizing him up—not in, like, a gym-class-intimidation kind of way, more…

Eddie’s not sure.

But a flicker of something definitely crosses Steve’s face—something almost vulnerable, maybe—and then it’s gone.

He mimes aiming an imaginary gun at Eddie, one eye closed, and drawls in a ridiculously bad Russian accent, “I would tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”

Eddie’s surprised into laughter. Where was this personality at school? In hiding?

“Fine. Keep your secrets, Steve Harrington.” He raps on the body of the bus, as if they’ve just met in a parking lot instead. Something normal. “Enjoy your, uh… lookout spot.”

Steve smiles, raises a hand. “See you, Munson. Hey, what was the shit you used to say?” And it must be a trick of the light, the sun in Eddie’s eyes, because for a moment it looks like Steve actually winks at him. “Here be dragons.”

#i’m falling in love with multiple scenarios of them meeting Before Everything but like just little glimpses u know?#pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #anyway hopefully new chapter of u know what next! ❤️

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dandyleyen · 25 days

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Twitter post | Fellas, is it gay to hold hands in the bath and share your mana ?

#i've been thinking about this for days #gnawing at some bones rn #GOD #they're so cute i sure hope nothing awful befalls them #also i'm still struggling to stylize them in my style but its baby steps okay pls give me some peace #anyways i'm nauseous thinking about the next episode just because the next two or three chapters in the manga are. stressy.#shoutout to marcille for surviving this bc i would've dropped dead i would've had a heart attack #so how evident is it that falin consistently has me twirling my hair you guys #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #screencap redraw #farcille #marcille donato #marcille #falin touden #falin #my art #fanart

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aroaceleovaldez · 1 year

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HoO is so funny to me when you actually think about the ages of all the characters. Octavian is 18. Percy and Annabeth are 16, almost 17. Reyna is presumably 16. Frank just turned 16, Jason’s about to turn 16. Leo and Piper are like 15. Hazel’s like 14 and a half, and Nico is 13.

The Death Sibs are both the youngest and oldest on the Argo II. Octavian is a college freshman getting into petty drama with a bunch of high schoolers. He gets told to shut up at one point by a random 8th grader. Everyone is scared of the 8th grader. We Sent A 13 Year Old To Superhell and he came back weirder, Just Like Middle School. TLH was just three high school sophomores being sent to do a task and it going Exactly Like You’d Expect. Percy’s the only demigod on the ship who can legally drive (though Reyna gets her drivers license at some point before TOA). What Is Happening.

#pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #riordanverse #my second favorite thing related to this is like every time Hazel references someone's age especially in SoN it's just. blatantly incorrect.#she goes into very specific detail about how she's 14. detailing like exactly how many months it had been since her birthday #and when she died and when she was brought back. just like ''okay. im 14 and a half. got that? good.''#''anyways here's Frank. he's 3 years older than me'' like literal next chapter. we are told Frank is not 3 years older than her.#Hazel: Here's my older brother! [Nico is younger than her in literally every way feasible]#ive just decided Hazel is an unreliable narrator who is just really bad at guessing/remembering how old people are #which like. adhd mood. forgetting how old everybody is.#and she has the bonus excuse of saying her sense of time is skewed from being a ghost for so long #but it's just so funny every time she's just. with the upmost confidence. blatantly the wrong answer.#i want a scene of Hazel looking at Percy and just going ''hm. I bet he's like 20.'' and then learns he's 16 #and she's just [surprised pikachu]#also we know it isn't an error that she's 14 cause in TOA she's like ''oh yeah im learning to drive!''#so she's 15 by then #it is however an error that *Nico* is said to be 14 in hoo cause he's 12 in TLO and 14 in TOA #but we know in HoO the reason that error was made was cause Rick hadn't figured out Nico's birthday yet #and he was flipping it between January or March #so he just forgot how old Nico is for a series and then we went back to normal

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yomeiu · 1 year

Photo

can you see me clearly?

#drowning live on the monitors #my poor pookie schmookie broke his leg #chuuya where are you #i have no reason to make this into skk but i will anyway #hes waving at his bf chuuya ofc #dazai be like *twirls hair* chuuya i know you're being possessed by the devil but im on the big screen #sigma next to him: bro what the fuck #literally dont know what this looks like because on every screen i own the colors are different #i also lost the file of these so what ever mistake you see well its there foreve my bad #recent chapters getting me scared #water practice #dazai osamu #dazai #bsd #bungo stray dogs

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petite-phthora · 3 months

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Shouldn’t have digital evidence when you have a family of hackers

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 14]

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Part 1

Ao3

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Text in italics and in-between ' means it is said in sign language

'For example.'

If an entire scene is written in italics, that means that that scene is a flashback.

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When Jason glances at where Danny and Ellie were, he sees nothing. He’s too relieved to really care much about how they got out of here so quickly.

He’ll ask Danny about it later.

Probably…

“Red Hood.”

“Bitch.” Is his response.

Jason is slightly disappointed, but entirely unsurprised, by the lack of reaction he gets.

“Who were they?”

“What were those civilians doing on the roof?”

“Where did they even go?”

“Just some informants for a case I’ve been working on.” Jason says, not giving anything about them away.

“Which case?”

“Did they attack you?”

“Yeah, who took a bite out of your arm? And more importantly, how did you taste?”

“Steph, I don’t think now’s the time—”

‘Medical assistance?’

Jason follows the Bats’ gazes towards his injured arm. He resists the urge to hide it and instead crosses his arms, trying to play it off.

“No, this is from… a cat.”

“A cat?”

“Yes. A stray cat. Bit me.”

“Tch. It’s obvious Todd is incompetent when it comes to caring for animals. For it to attack you like that you must have done quite poorly. What did you do to it?” Damien glares at him in an accusatory way.

“I didn’t do shit, Demon Brat. I was just scanning the street when it bit me outta nowhere.”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t believe you, Todd. You clearly must have cornered, threatened, or hurt it in some way for it to react—"

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason cuts him off and rolls his eyes, even though none of them can see it through the helmet. The energy is there.

“Animals hate me, and I can’t take care of them for shit. Now, can we move on to why you’re all here on my turf?” Jason stares them all down.

Before anyone else can speak up, Dick starts talking.

“Can’t an elder brother just visit his younger sibling every once in a while?” Dick asks with a totally innocent grin.

“No.”

Dick shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

“While we originally came here to interrogate you about your involvement in the disappearance of the Joker, these imbeciles wanted to use the encounter as a way to simultaneously confront you about your new… beloved” Damian says, gesturing towards the others sounding completely done and unimpressed.

‘Got them flowers?’

“So how was the dinner? And the observatory? Do they like the stars? What’s their name? Hobbies? Age? Appearance? Interests?”

“Are they hot?”

“Seeing as you picked up a bouquet of sweet peas in costume, and didn’t take a detour to your apartment or safehouse before your location started glitching, I have to ask. Are you dating a civilian as Red Hood?” Babs speaks up over the comms.

Tim stays suspiciously silent, not asking any questions. Jason cuts them all off.

“Where the hell did you even get this information from?”

“Tim snitched.”

“Drake mentioned it.”

“Tim.”

“Timmy told us.”

“Red Robin informed us about your outing.”

“I hacked some cams to see you pick up the flowers, but Tim was the one to say you were on a date at the time.”

Tim raises his finger and opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak up and defend himself. He then stops, seemingly considering something before dropping his hand back down and just shrugging.

“If you didn’t want anyone to know you shouldn’t have gone out as Red Hood when getting the flowers and taking them out to dinner.

“Besides, I tried to respect your privacy and redirect everyone somewhere else to keep them off your back. But they interrogated me, and I’m sorry.” He says, not sounding sorry at all. “It just… slipped out.”

“You didn’t try that hard—"

Tim shushes Steph and cuts her off.

“Besides! Babs also stalked you! Through the cameras! And, I didn’t say that much. I just told them you were on a date.”

Jason glares at them all through the visor of his helmet. Meanwhile, Dick crosses his arms and pouts.

“Yeah, Timbers—” “No real names.” “— wouldn’t tell us anything! He used his lack of sleep against us.”

---

“So Timmy, I need you to tell me everything. Pretty please?”

Tim raises his finger and opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak up. Then his eyes roll into the back of his head and he starts falling backward.

Dick yelps and manages to catch him before he falls onto the ground and hits his head.

“Damn it, Tim!” He whines. “Passing out like that should not have been the power move that it is.”

“He can fall asleep after this?!” Steph’s incredulous voice pipes up.

Dick’s gaze moves from Tim over to where Steph was previously half-dying due to Tim’s monstrosity of a drink. She’s standing by now, clutching the mug in a death grip. She’s twitching every now and again, her foot tapping the floor rapidly.

“Ehm, Steph? You okay?”

“Mhmm, think I’m having a stroke”

“Oh, that’s not good—”

Dick cuts himself off as Steph starts to stumble. He moves closer to catch her in case she falls as well, but luckily she manages to save herself from falling, clumsily moving to sit down on the floor instead.

Once seated, she lets her back hit the floor. She also lets go of the mug, letting it spill onto and roll around the floor of the cave.

“Y’know, I think I’m just gonna stay here for a bit. Maybe do some stalactite gazing. It’s riveting stuff, I tell you!”

Dick lets out a small sigh and nods a little.

“You do you, boo”

He gets a thumbs-up in response.

---

“Why are you actually here?” He cuts them off, already done with their bullshit. “Don’t start the bullshit about the ‘date’ again. Either talk business or leave.”

He privately notes the lack of green in his vision.

They all glance at each other before Batman steps forward and speaks up.

“What is your involvement in the disappearance of the Joker.”

“I don’t have anything to do with the Joker’s disappearance” Jason vehemently denies, arms still crossed.

“Are you sure about that?” Babs’ voice pipes up over the comms.

A hologram forms above Batman’s gauntlet computer. The hologram shows a picture of Jason in his Red Hood costume without his helmet grinning at the camera. He’s holding up the camera selfie style and seems to be in one of the alleys of Crime Alley.

The most intriguing part of the picture is the figure next to Jason on the ground. There, in clear view, lies the dead body of the Joker. His head seems to be caved in in a way that shows he most likely died on impact, hit by something that had a lot of force.

Jason pauses at the sight of one of his most precious keepsakes.

“Of course you hacked my phone” He scoffs, clearly unhappy.

Jason turns back to look at the Bats and watches their reactions to the revelation the Joker is most certainly dead. Dick seems to have some sort of weight lifted off of his shoulders. Cass doesn’t give anything away.

Damian is unimpressed, scoffing at the hologram and likely already mentally criticizing the technique. Steph seems to be more relaxed, “Damn, Jason, this totally looks like that one Grant Gustin next to the grave meme,” while Tim seems to be having some kind of world-shattering epiphany.

He then eyes Batman’s tense posture. Jason shifts slightly, getting ready to fight if it comes to it.

“Red Hood. Did you kill the Joker?” Batman grinds out slowly, pinning Jason with a soul-piercing stare. Jason carefully eyes Batman’s tightened fists before locking eyes with him again.

“No,” Jason answers honestly.

Jason and Batman are locked in a stare-down, neither speaking another word. The tense silence goes on for a few seconds before it’s broken by Dick casually putting his arm around Jason’s shoulders in a friendly gesture.

“Welp. Seems like he didn’t do it, B. If he says he didn’t, I believe him.” Dick speaks up.

Jason and Batman both untense a little, the moment broken. Jason lets out a small grumble and shrugs Dick’s arm off his shoulders. Dick lets him with a smile.

“Wait, so you just found his body dead in a ditch somewhere? I called it!” Steph pipes up.

She holds her hand up for a high-five. Cass gives her one.

Jason shrugs nonchalantly “You could say that.”

“You may not have killed him, but it’s clear you’re covering for the actual murderer. Who is it and why are you protecting them?” Batman asks, not letting it go.

“You may not believe me, B, but it was just a freak accident as far as I could tell.”

If you call a meta one-punching the Joker in self-defense a ‘freak accident’.

It’s not like Danny meant to do it. Ergo: accident.

“Nothing more, nothing less. I found him like that. All I did was get rid of the body and wipe some cams. Not that those would have been much helpful if let unwiped anyway.” He shrugs, unconcerned.

“Do you know what caused the files to become corrupted this way? I’ve seen corrupted files before, but this is something else…” Babs says over the comms, tone curious.

“Nah, they were like that even before I wiped them. Might have something to do with whatever took the fucker out. Don’t know though, and I don’t care.I’m just glad the city’s finally rid of that bastard.”

“Amen to that!”

Batman’s glare moves over from Jason to Tim, who meets his gaze headfirst and just gives him an unimpressed stare in return.

“You gotta be honest, B. There’s not really anyone gonna be missing him…”

“Now, if that’s all. I gotta go. I’ve got some work to do, cases to solve, groceries to buy. Y’know, not everyone has the freedom to walk around dressed as furries beating up bad guys 24/7. Some of us have a life.” Jason cuts in.

“And since when are you the one to have a life outside of being a vigilante?”

“Oh, you know, since somewhere around the time my gruesome murder was finally avenged,” Jason says sarcastically.

“Who knew that that would be something that would make it feel like a weight is lifted off of your shoulders and that it would finally bring some peace into your life?

“Let me know if you find the guy who did it, okay? Feel like this was a great service to the community and it deserves a nice reward. Might bake ‘em a cake or something. Maybe some cookies… ” Jason pretends to think.

“Where’s the body?” Batman asks, ignoring Jason’s sarcasm.

“And when are you going to introduce us to your new partner?” Dick chimes in as well.

“Not telling you, and never if I can help it. Now, goodbye.” Jason grinds out before leaving.

Jason turns and runs to the edge of the building, making his way over to the next building and leaving the Bats behind on the roof. As he gets farther away from the other vigilantes, the last thing he hears is Steph speaking up.

“Is it just me or did that conversation involve a lot less… green-eyed rage than I expected?”

Now, it’s time to plan that next date…

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing @i23432i @imsotiredfanficlovertm

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #sorry but danny wont be meeting any of the bats yet #if anything alfred would be the first person that danny meets #it's what jason would want #this was bit of a long chapter but i didnt feel like cutting it in half :p #anyway the next 4 chapters or something are also in the process of being written #so hopefully i can get those out soon #also i might make a masterpost pretty soon #would make things easier :p

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