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glow-in-the-dark-death · 8 days

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Just For Him

Knowing Danny's family and his time as a hero you would think that Danny would grow up having a similar job, and so did he honestly!

That was until he put on a pair of skates and stepped onto the ice.

Maybe it had something to do with his ice core that made his movements on the ice feel more natural than any other kind of ground under his feet.

Once he was on the ice he felt like a completely different person, confident in every single step, in the way he would spin and jump- using a bit of his ghostliness to gain more air time in his jumps.

The entire sensation on that ice was freeing,

invigorating,

peaceful.

It was just him and the ice under his blades.

It felt like everything in his life was for someone else, his creations his protections all of it that he would gladly give to those who need it and to his loved ones.

But when was the last time he had anything that was just for him.

For him to enjoy

For him to find unrestrained happiness from

Just for him

So no, while it was surprising to everyone around him including himself at the direction his life turned to he couldn't be happier.

He now traveled a lot for his competitions & own fun, with a very happy Ellie tagging along to support him and enjoy what the world had to offer.

" We have arrived at our destination. Welcome to Gotham."

Just an idea

#Ice skater Danny au #number 1 fan Ellie #inspired by some yoi fan art I saw & went “ yup ice skater Danny would be fun”#also his love interest could be one of the bats and have a very Viktor/Yuuri dynamic.#just think that would be super adorable #plus imagine the drama!#older danny #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #batman

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justwannabecat · 1 year

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It was quiet. That suited Danny just fine. After all, he had endured enough to realize that noise often meant something was about to happen. Nowadays the only times he heard something that wasn’t caused by himself was if Cujo came to visit. The first time it happened, Danny was afraid he would have to fight again, but all they did was play for a while. The second time he welcomed it, same with every time thereafter.

He had plenty of time to stargaze. Nobody really visited the Antarctic, so it was perfect for him. Cold, quiet, and with no light pollution, so he could see every single star in the night sky. He could see the Southern Lights as they dance through the air, he could trace the paths of the planets as Earth rotates.

He wanted to leave. He wanted to explore. He wanted to see all there was to see, get lost in the endless cosmos, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know if his human half would survive that long without food. He didn’t want to find out.

Besides, Jazz was here. She was still on Earth, and as much as Danny wanted to leave, he couldn’t. Not while she was still here. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to visit her, to see the disappointment that would no doubt be clear in her eyes, he couldn’t completely abandon her.

As with every time he thought about Jazz, he briefly considered visiting her, but decided against it. If she really wanted to find him she could use the Boo-merang. The fact that it hadn’t happened yet was enough proof that his presence was unneeded.

Besides, why would he leave? He has a sick tower made out of unmeltable ice! It’s been furnished with things that, admittedly, he may have stolen, but only things that would have been destroyed soon anyways! He doesn’t cause any of the disasters that endanger so many pieces of furniture, but he’ll take advantage of it! You can only sleep on hard ice so many times before you realize how nice beds really are.

The point is, he doesn’t leave unless he has to. And since he’s furnished the place, he hasn’t had to leave once. It’s been like a slice of heaven- No ghosts to fight, no hunters to hide from, no insane billionaires who can’t decide whether to kill him or adopt him…

Danny looked up at the night sky again. He could see Acrux twinkling brightly overhead.

It was quiet.

———————————————

“I’ve got bad news and worse news.” Constantine announced at the next League meeting. “Bad news, beings from the Infinite Realms are, from this point forward, unable to be summoned. Wouldn’t be too bad if we weren’t trying to make peace negotiations with them, but we are, so it’s not great.”

Batman remained visibly impassive, though anyone who knew him could tell just how unsettled that made him. “And the worse news?”

Constantine sighed. “So… Before they blocked themselves off, I spoke to one of them. The Guardian of Time. He told me that, due to his perception of all time, he knew we would lose. Luckily he doesn’t want humanity to die, but he told me that Phantom ghost has a medallion in his chest that makes him immune to his abilities. As such, our one hope of survival could be anywhere by now. The only things he could tell us were that he’s probably not far from Earth, because he still has living relatives.”

Superman straightened up. “That doesn’t sound like it’s worse news. We know Phantom is near Earth and that he’s got relatives here. Surely he would go back to them, right?”

“Well. I didn’t really get to that part yet.” Constantine shifted uncomfortably. “You have to swear to not tell anyone who doesn’t already know. This is like people learning your civilian identities. If you ever try to use it against them, hell, even insinuate that you’re gonna use it, then they will kill you, and they won’t face punishment from their court because it’s technically self defense. Understand?”

Everyone readily agreed. After a second, Constantine continued.

“Phantom is Danny Fenton. He’s what the Guardian of Time called a Halfa, half ghost and half human. His parents are the ghost hunters who started this whole thing.”

Tag list: @random-dude12 @overtherose @osnii @profounddestinyrebel @currentlyalivebutmentlyd3ad @thatonegirl10 @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @epilepticnerd @alcorbearson @hoarder-of-gender @sirtin @oddessy @naluforever3 @litlecameron @skulld3mort-1fan @nogenderonlyfrogie @screamingtofillthevoid @the-church-grimm @malice-of-the-sunrise @jaytriesstuff @legowerewolf @akikkobara @apointlessbox @midigeria @kumoko-yokai @antmeisteronion @lizz-blizt @anonymousf28 @keegan-parker @sailor-goddess @rowanaway-fromthisbs @yjfk @screechingnoises @myfloweryrose @derpxp @adeniumdream @56thingsinaname @demiourgias @alice-hazelwood @mur-ururu @blue-avis @rosecinnamonbun @babbling-babull @yumeyoruppr @haron-ghost-10 @icedbluesoul @busterkeel @cat-in-a-fedora @sadpersonmadeoffruitpunch

#Quasar AU #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #justice league #so yeah Clockwork knows that the future looks shitty #but when the only chance at stopping it has an artifact that immunizes him to your future sight #what else can you do #yup. next chance Clockwork gets you know he’s gonna take that back.#for now the JL are gonna have to spread out #but Danny lives in a tower made of ICE.#it’s reflective. whoopsie #also the tag isn’t working for a few people #if you asked to be tagged but it isn’t working please understand I tried #also put this off for like a week because of the tag list ugggghhh #part 2

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tanglepelt · 7 months

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Dc x dp idea 122

Danny is a Kryptonian. Not by birth. But by the realm.

The infinite realm is infinite, time is connected to it at all times in different spots. When a world is destroyed or a species goes extinct the realm is effected.

When kyrpton exploded. Time moved on the earthly realm of course. However a natural portal had opened. One that only opened in the realm at the same moment the Fenton portal opened for the first time.

Danny wasn’t just blasted by pure ectoplasm from the realm, but of the very essence of kyrpton itself. Altering Danny’s DNA even more. Infusing kyrptonian DNA into him as well as him becoming half ghost.

Danny has no clue. He assumes it’s all ghost powers. So did frostbite. What happened to him was unknown and entirely new. Besides had frostbite ever truly looked at normal human DNA before.

Danny’s first experience with kryptonite is when lex Luther showed up to “fund” fentonWorks. The anti-ecto weaponry worked surprisingly well on the supers. And he couldn’t just get into the Fenton computers without a green virus shutting him down.

Lex is intrigued. Does his digging on this “human” boy only to find he was adopted as a baby. Through less then legal methods.

Ellie on the other hand feels the effects in front of Conner. She was very confused just as he was.

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anjanahalo · 8 months

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Wayne Vs Fenton 3

start of the madness

pls note I'm putting these numbers in as "what I have written." They're not gonna necessarily be in order. I hope to make a full fic to put on AO3. In the interim, here's stuff I wrote in general as it strikes me in the moment. This bit is from Tim's perspective after Damian and Danny Are Friends become a known quantity in the Wayne household. ~*~

Damian making friends didn’t make sense. Everyone else felt complacent in simply accepting it. Tim wasn’t. Considering his upbringing, autonomous socializing wasn’t part of Damian’s personality. Nor was how calm and patient the former assassin child became with all of his siblings, Tim included. Damian himself insisted he and this “Danny” were friends. Hell, Damian even called the kid by a nickname. Not his last name, not “Daniel.” His actual, preferred nickname. Tim was suspicious and instantly began investigating. Daniel “Danny” Fenton, age 15, moved to Gotham two months ago from Amity Park, Illinois with his godfather and temporary guardian, Vlad Masters, former mayor of Amity Park, head of Vladco Industries, and heir to Wisconsin’s Self Proclaimed Dairy King’s fortune. Child of Jack and Madeline Fenton, doctors of something called ectobiology, former college classmates of Vlad Masters, and founders of FentonWorks, a cottage research facility that developed antighost (Ghosts? Really?) weaponry and equipment. Brother of Jasmine Fenton, currently a student of Yale in their psychology undergraduate program, and already a shoe-in for the Dean’s list. Honestly, of all the people related to him, Danny ended up being the least interesting. Middling grades that dropped in high school along with attendance. That was probably what led to his coming to Gotham. A set of brilliant - if evidentially weird - parents and a rich and involved godfather doing what they could to help their faltering son to succeed by sending him to one of the top schools on the east coast. There was evidence that Amity Park itself had some apparently minor meta vigilante protecting it, but searches for “Phantom” turned up nothing in the Justice League’s database, suggesting whomever this was might be an actual ghost like Deadman and, thus, restricted to access by those with JLD clearance. Tim put aside that issue for later. He could just ask B for privileges later. Besides, the only information he found on this vigilante was on a few amateur fansites and local papers. No major news sites or government listings. It couldn’t be anything major. His focus remained on Daniel Fenton. Except, even when looking into the kid’s socials, there wasn’t anything interesting. He had a couple friends back in Amity, the most interesting of the two was Samantha Mason of the Mason family, though Tim already knew of her from various socialite dinners she looked ready to burn to the ground, pink and lacey dress or not. Her social media was full of activism, conservation movements, and calls for both veganism and something called ultra recycle vegetarianism. Tucker came from an average family of upper middle class parents, nothing odd there, though his social media showed his love of technology and ancient Egypt. Nothing strange there. Danny’s social media, besides his friends, included links to Nasa, occasional rambles about high school life, and, for some reason, a dog photoshopped to look green. From the replies of his few followers, it was an inside joke since they all cooed over the dog and didn’t comment on the green. Again, nothing strange. Even the one time he managed to hack into Damian’s phone to see his messages yielded nothing. He and Danny would meet for what Danny called “playdates.” For some reason, Damian played along with a name Tim knew he’d scoff as childish and beneath him. Even that would be innocuous. One or the other would suggest meeting at various parks, arcades, even the observatory, negotiating dates and times, and that was it.

Danny was a normal kid. Damian was a born and bred assassin. Why in the actual fuck were these two friends? Nothing made sense. Everyone else was happy to ignore it because of the peace the irrationality before them instilled. Tim wouldn’t become complacent. Whatever Danny was hiding, he’d find it.

#danny phantom #here i go writing again #wayne vs fenton #dpxdc #Yup #Tim is missing shit #plz allow it for now for both plot reasons and because this is #so far #just a seed for the full story #also he's tunnel focused on Danny. Some Ghost Powered Meta isn't in his radar at the moment #especially one that's probably actually just a ghost protecting a small midwestern town and of such small significance #it's not even a major file in the JL database #OBVIOUSLY the JL must know about him. Thinking otherwise is silly #He'll just ask bruce to fill him in #Shoutout to One Look because I was like “What's a word for 'Self Initializing'?”#AUTONOMOUS

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ectolilly · 1 month

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Just another normal Saturday morning. Casual wear, some coffee . Maybe some light stalking after.

#lrpics #vlad masters #yup totally normal #danny phantom

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going-getting-got-ghost · 2 years

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This is what’s gonna happen once ectoplasm becomes illegal. Missing persons alert every day.

#danny phantom #lance thunder #yup this will happen #ectoplasm

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tanglepelt · 1 year

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Dp x dc idea thing. 44

Someone says the forbidden words. I wish. Now it was a child’s wish. I wish we all were with our familles. One meant to be nice.

A ghost attack had caused the collapse of a roof. The child was just happened to be in a room with the trio. Danny hadn’t even had the chance to transform.

As Desiree twists her wishes. The worst thing for Danny happened. You see he was adopted. After he failed a mission for the league rather then return he noped out of there. Granted the mission was set up to fail. He overheard his twin discussing it with mother.

Being adopted by two mad scientists at 6 was the biggest reason they never found out he survived. The Fentons were astonished by his story. Helped hide him and forged new papers. Quickly accepting him as their own son. The family had no social media presence minus the Fentonwork site, no mentions of children.

Rather then be returned to the Fentons a green portal dumped him in the middle of a grand dinning room. A ton of blue eyed black haired people eating dinner. The one that stood out was the one with green eyes.

Nope.

No way

Well then the green eyed one lunges at him.

Okay maybe.

When he starts yelling about impersonating his dead twin. How dare grandfather clone him. Honestly he wasn’t listening until he spoke of killing all the other clones.

Yup. That was Damian.

If vlad could make clones he has no doubt grandfather could. For all he knows vlad could have handed the info over to him for some of the rancid ectoplasm they had at the base.

He knew the truth now.

The Lazarus pits was just remnants from the river of revulsion. It’s a wonder they brought anyone back.

Honestly Damian charging him was a pain. Danny didn’t even know how his twin suddenly had a sword. Getting cut was enough of that. This was a dinning room not a training room. He was just going to have to dine and dash.

He really needs to thank jazz and sam for getting him back into physical training. He enjoyed not worrying about it 24/7. Then the whole dying had to happen. As such he got back into it. This was starting to tire him out.

From the lack of people getting out of the way. They must be used to this chaos. The look in there eyes indicated they were going to get involved. Honestly he’d rather not.

Realistically he doesn’t think Damian would be able to find him. The fentons and then tucker have helped to conceal him. By all accounts his past life never existed. Only Daniel Fenton did. Amity was a nowhere town mostly hidden by the government anyways. The whole ghost thing was meant to stay secret.

They didn’t want people poking around there.

Danny was aware it just helped hide him so why expose it. Tucker sam and jazz knew. They all could bypass it.

With a sigh and a wave of his hand he froze them in place.

“Let all just cool down here. Damian i have and had no intentions of ever seeing you again. But genies like to twist wishes unfortunately. Desiree just had to screw me over specifically to get me out of town.”

“For all i care keep your title as heir, I’m much happier playing dead. I’m already half way there. Don’t look for me. You get to be the superior twin”

“No need for late night plots on how to kill me or prove yourself. Enjoy. I have friends and family to get back to.”

With a snap of his finger a green portal opened in front of Danny.

“The ice will disappear in five minutes or so. If i remember to unfreeze it” grabbing one of the rolls on the table. Danny left through the portal.

What Danny didn’t know was his twin had been trying to find ways around the botched mission. Grandfather has only wanted one heir. Easiest way to get that was to dispose of the youngest.

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carewyncromwell · 2 years

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“Raise a glass to freedom, Something they can never take away, No matter what they tell you... (Someone will come running to take you home...) Raise a glass to all of us -- Tomorrow there'll be more of us, Telling the story of tonight! (Out of the shadows...) The morning is breaking, (They'll tell the story of tonight!) And all is new -- (All is new) All is new! It's only a matter of time...”

~“Found/Tonight” by Ben Platt and Lin-Manuel Miranda

x~x~x~x

featuring Atticus Grimsley @cursebreakerfarrier and Bartholomew “Bat” Varney @carewyncromwell, and also referencing Danny Gibson @catohphm, Jackson Knightly, Rex Brokenshire, and Teddy, Adelia, Bertie, Violet, and Holly Selwyn-Ellison @thatravenpuffwitch

x~x~x~x

It was a significant event in 1915 when Atticus Grimsley finally retired from the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His successor ended up being one of Atticus’s former students, a well-respected Auror named Dan Gibson, who was soon embraced by the remaining faculty and students just as Atticus had been when he’d first arrived. Not that Atticus had had any doubts -- Danny had always been a very bright lad, and it was good to see him prosper.

Even in retirement, however, Atticus continued to visit Hogsmeade village regularly. Although yes, it was a good way for him to catch up with his former work colleagues and students, all those who knew Atticus knew the main reason was so that Atticus could spend quality time with his closest companion -- the vampire called Bartholomew Varney.

Varney, affectionately called “Bat” by just about everyone, was an oddity among his kind. Whereas many vampires actively tried to cloister themselves away in colonies far away from humans so as to not provoke their blood lust, Bat spent his days meditating in the attic of Honeydukes’ Sweet Shop and spent his nights wandering through the village. There he’d enjoy the atmosphere, go shopping, and even engage with those precious few students from the neighboring school who earned his esteem enough to merit a lecture in History of Magic or Potions. And, of course, he’d talk and laugh with “Grim,” as he affectionately called Atticus, for hours on end, well into the night and more warmly than with anyone else. Then they’d often leave the village together, still talking avidly, with Bat returning to Honeydukes in the wee hours of the morning, just before sunrise.

They were a funny pair, Bat Varney and Atticus Grimsley -- funnier still, many thought, as Atticus got older and grayer and Bat remained ever youthful in look, even despite his hollowed-out eyes and sickly pale complexion. There were points where Bat almost treated Atticus like his aging uncle, in how he’d help his compatriot up out of his chair, and yet there were other times they acted almost like a couple, in how Bat would help Atticus put his coat back on, before going back outside. And still even throughout all that, regardless of the little gestures here and there, every day they smiled, laughed, teased, debated, entertained, and confided in each other like nothing less than the very best of friends.

One of these many nights Atticus and Bat spent together was in the fall of 1927, in the height of the so-called “roaring 20′s.” Atticus had come down with a rather nasty chest cold, so Bat had swung by his cottage in Cumbria to cheer his friend up and brew him some proper Pepper-up Potions, along with the usual Sleeping Draught. Bat clearly took great pleasure in the opportunity to be useful to his old friend -- he was even humming to himself as he set about chopping up the mandrake root on Atticus’s kitchen counter.

“Joy to the world -- the Lord is come!

Let earth receive her King...”

Atticus couldn’t fight back the tired grin winding its way onto his face. “Singing Christmas carols? Come now, Bat, we’ve not even passed October yet...”

“Mayhaps if Halloween developed some proper carols of its own, I could sing those instead,” Bat called over playfully from the next room. “Until then, I shall just have to enjoy the best time of the year a bit early -- goodness knows those two months will fly by soon enough...”

Atticus shook his head amusedly. It was something he regretted, though, when his sinuses began to pound behind his eyes angrily -- the older man flopped back down onto his pillows with a low groan.

Bat strolled through the open door of Atticus’s room, a tray in his hands. Stacked haphazardly on it was a full tea service, a goblet with white steam coming off of it, and two leather-bound books. There was also a newspaper folded under Bat’s arm -- no doubt the most recent edition of the Evening Prophet -- and the familiar white stick of a Blood Pop sticking out of his mouth.

“Hang in there, Grim,” he said with a slightly wry, but still rather gentle expression. “I’m coming.”

He put the tray, books, and newspaper down on Atticus’s side table and immediately moved to Atticus’s bedside, the steaming goblet in hand.

“Can you sit up on your own?” he asked.

Atticus coughed loudly, only to hold his head at the pain that shot through as a result. “Of course I can -- I’m not that infirm...”

The over-sixty-year-old man eased himself up into a seated position in bed. Atticus’s stubbornness only served to make Bat grin that bit more toothily around his Blood Pop.

“What’s that smirk for?” Atticus asked with a soft grunt as he adjusted himself so he could lean back against his headboard.

Bat’s grin only broadened. “Nothing. Just thinking you haven’t changed a bit.”

Atticus gave a loud, sarcastic laugh. “Rubbish. The very first thing out of your mouth when you arrived was that it looked like I’d grown another gray hair.”

It was a comment that had hurt more than Atticus would’ve ever admitted. He hated knowing he was getting older. Ironically it was something he’d never paid much mind to before -- he’d found himself losing track of his own birthdays even back when he was still a boy -- but since befriending Bat, Atticus had become much more aware of it. The ex-professor knew that Bat had had to disappear from his loved ones’ lives, just to keep his sanity in the face of watching them shrivel up and die before his eyes while he stayed the same. And yet Bat was staying by Atticus, even as he aged. And once he’d retired, Atticus found himself somewhat adrift without the consistent, relentless schedule of teaching. It had certainly been nice to have so much time to himself at the start, but it was also a bit terrifying, to have this thing that had defined so much of his life suddenly be gone...to not be as quick or strong as he once was...to catch himself having to refresh himself on routine spells like Aguamenti, simply because he’d gotten out of the habit of using them...

With a chuckle, Bat sat down on the bed beside Atticus. He slid the smoking goblet into his hands, holding both of them around the piping-hot glass, no doubt to ensure Atticus had a secure grip on it before letting go. Atticus himself, however, couldn’t stop himself from staring down at their joined hands: Bat’s as strong as ever, no matter how sickly pale, over his own rosy, but age-spotted and wrinkled ones.

“You got it?” said Bat.

“Of course I’ve got it,” Atticus shot back, a bit more sourly than he meant, as he pulled his hands and the goblet out of Bat’s grip. “Stop treating me like an old man.”

He took a long sip, only to choke at the feeling of the hot liquid scalding his throat. Once he’d recovered, Atticus quickly finished it off, breathing in the steam as it poured through his stuffed-up nostrils, dissipating the mucus and phlegm clogging up his sinuses.

“I’m the old man out of the two of us, Grim.”

When Atticus looked up at Bat again, the vampire’s expression had lost the smile, becoming a bit more serious. The ex-professor averted his eyes down to the still smoking goblet.

“Yes, obviously,” Atticus said uncomfortably, “but it doesn’t show on you. But I’m not that helpless, you know -- you don’t have to coddle me so much.”

“I’m doing that because you’re sick, Grim, not because you’re old.”

Bat considered Atticus for a moment. Then he gave a great suck to the Blood Pop in his mouth and, very tentatively, brought up a cold hand to Atticus’s forehead, so as to feel his temperature.

Atticus flushed a very dark red. “...B-Bat?”

Bat’s scarlet eyes were locked on his hand on Atticus’s forehead rather than Atticus’s face as he gave another loud slurp to the Blood Pop in his mouth.

“I won’t be able to stay into the morning,” he said lowly. “I’ve got to make sure you’ll be all right, before I leave.”

Atticus stared up at Bat, taken aback by just how serious he looked. He could feel his heart racing, and he tried desperately to will it into submission -- he knew Bat would be able to both hear and feel it, and the last thing he wanted was to needlessly antagonize his blood lust.

“I’m all right, Bat,” he murmured, his voice coming out oddly breathy. “I am.”

Bat gave another loud suck to the Blood Pop in his mouth as he looked at Atticus. Atticus could see red creeping in on the edge of his friend’s eyes and could tell he was having trouble, being so close to him -- and yet he powered through all the same.

“You will be,” he said softly. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Smoothing Atticus’s graying, sweat-soaked bangs from his face, Bat then closed his eyes and forcibly removed himself, retreating to the corner of the room so he could take his pewter flask out of the inside of his waistcoat and take a long swig. Then, taking several deep breaths, he chucked the spent white stick from his mouth, took a fresh Blood Pop out of his pocket, and stuck in his mouth before sweeping back toward the kitchen.

“I forgot,” he said in a noticeably brighter tone, “The eldest Honeydukes gave me some hazelnut chocolate scones for me to bring along for you.”

Atticus blinked. “Really? That was thoughtful of her.”

He shifted his gaze down to the tea service Bat had put out. The vampire had already prepared Atticus a cup of tea just the way he liked it, so the ex-professor gently picked it up and sipped it as he picked up the Evening Prophet next to the tray.

The tea smelled lovely. His nose was already clearing up nicely.

“Indeed,” Bat said amusedly. “She recalled your ‘voracious sweet tooth’ and thought you’d be the best test subject for her new recipe.”

Atticus bit back a laugh. “Considering the talent of the chocolatier in question, I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

Taking another sip of his tea, he perused the front page. The headline at the top, however, dimmed the light in his expression significantly.

GELLERT GRINDELWALD TERRORIZES PARIS

Rally hosted by infamous Dark wizard ends in an explosion of magical flames only barely contained by French Aurors

‘First New York City and now Paris,’ thought Atticus grimly. ‘He’s getting bolder, if he feels brave enough to act out in such large cities, protected by such powerful magical ministries...’

“...working on a new caramel recipe, if you’d like to try that as well...”

“Mm,” said Atticus, only vaguely taking in what Bat had said. The article was holding his attention captive.

‘Thirty dead or wounded...a good chunk of them French Aurors who’d been purposefully lured to the event, just to be made an example out of...burned alive with a lethal casting of Protego Diabolica...’

The mental image of a dozen young men with faces like the wizards he used to work with at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement rippled over Atticus’s mind, making his stomach clench with nausea.

A clink to his left made Atticus straighten up sharply. Bat had returned with one of Madam Honeydukes’s scones and had just put the plate down on the tray beside the teapot.

“You’re going to lose your appetite, reading that,” Bat said lowly.

Atticus couldn’t tell if Bat was reproaching him or not -- it made him react a bit defensively.

“I want to know what’s going on in the world, Bat, whether I’m sick or not.”

To Atticus’s surprise, Bat’s expression actually softened.

“...I understand.”

He held out his hand expectantly.

“Hand me your cup -- I’ll pour you a new one.”

Atticus frowned. “I can do it my -- ”

“I know you can,” Bat cut him off smoothly. “But I want to do it.”

Atticus considered Bat for a moment, his eyes flitting down to his open hand. Then he relented, handing the empty cup over to Bat so that he could pour Atticus a new cup of tea and add in the proper amount of sugar and milk.

“It’s disgusting,” Atticus murmured.

Bat handed him the cup. “You mean Grindelwald and not the tea, I hope?”

“Yes, of course,” Atticus said quickly. His face then grew that bit grimmer. “...What he did to those Aurors -- to the city -- to his own supporters, just for not being loyal enough. And all in the name of ‘protecting’ the Wizarding World!” His blue eyes flared with anger. “It’s absolutely vile.”

Bat’s own scarlet eyes hardened significantly. “It is. As are all people like him.”

He picked up the empty potion goblet and strolled back out into the kitchen as if to go clean it out.

“Men like Grindelwald...they don’t see anyone else as truly human, unless they align perfectly with their demented world view. Unless they’re wizards, or white, or Protestant, or Pureblood, or whatever else they’ve decided elevates them over everyone else. And, of course, unless they likewise ascribe to the idea that those people are inherently superior, for that reason...for what does it matter if you’re the perfect Pureblood specimen, if you’re a ‘blood traitor’ that sees other people as just as human as you are?”

Bat’s voice, however level and quiet, betrayed a lot of resentment and righteousness, smoldering just under the surface.

Atticus’s eyes narrowed a bit as he nodded.

“For the life of me, I will never understand such people,” he said. “Though I suppose in a way, that’s probably a good thing.”

“It is,” agreed Bat. “One thing is for sure, though -- blokes like Grindelwald don’t stop until they’re forced to. Yes, the British Ministry was able to prevent Grindelwald from torching Paris, but they didn’t capture him. They didn’t incapacitate him. Therefore it’s only a matter of time before he does something else that’s much worse.”

Atticus took another sip of tea. As he did, however, something made him pause, his lips lingering on the cup. He skimmed the article one more time, before straightening up a bit to look out the doorframe toward the kitchen.

“...British Ministry?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow. “In the article, it says the French Aurors dealt with it.”

There was a very long silence. It was only punctured by the light clink and snap of Bat cleaning out the goblet and putting it back in the kitchen cabinet.

“Bat?” said Atticus.

Bat didn’t answer. Atticus’s frown deepened.

“Bat -- ”

“I heard you.”

Bat’s voice had become quieter and more detached. The sound troubled Atticus that bit more -- Bat only ever detached emotionally when he was upset. It made Atticus inch himself out of bed, supporting himself on the edge of his headboard as he straightened up and shuffled over to the doorframe.

He found Bat cleaning the kitchen, wiping the counter clean with a wet rag. His eyes were focused solely on what he was doing, so it was clearly busy work more than anything: something to distract him. He did stiffen ever-so-slightly when Atticus approached -- no matter how quiet Atticus might try to be, he could never sneak up on a vampire. Not that Atticus cared -- he had no interest in getting the drop on Bat. Instead he merely walked over to stand beside his friend, leaning on the edge of the counter and watching his pale, gaunt face as he stubbornly refused to look at him.

“Robert,” Atticus said a bit more gently.

The name had a visible impact on Bat. It made something flutter through his expression -- something more youthful and almost vulnerable -- to the point that it was almost like a boyish flush, bringing life back into his palid cheeks. He turned to Atticus very abruptly, his scarlet eyes seeming oddly rounder than before. It made the sharp, bright light in them shine more handsomely than ever -- more like a young man, rather than that of an old soul trapped in a young frame.

The handsomeness of Bat’s eyes didn’t falter even as he his expression turned much more evasive and hesitant.

“...The French Aurors at the event were all slaughtered,” Bat admitted softly at last. “The Aurors who saved Paris were from our department, in Britain. ...It’s something Minister Fawley doesn’t want circulated, when the British Ministry has been trying to keep its activity in other countries quiet.”

Atticus’s eyebrows furrowed. “...Well, yes, I suppose that’s understandable -- but if that’s true, then how are you aware of it? If you’ve heard of it from an outside source, then clearly it’s already being circulated -- ”

Bat looked Atticus straight-on in the eye, and Atticus’s words died in his throat. His eyes widened slowly.

“...They told you?” he whispered.

Bat inclined his head in something of a short nod, his scarlet eyes drifting away, up onto the kitchen window.

“But -- ” Atticus stammered, “ -- but if the Ministry told you, that means that they trust you with that kind of intelligence! And the only people that the Ministry of Magic would trust with that kind of intelligence would be people who work for them. Aurors, Unspeakables, investigators...”

“...And other such agents,” Bat finished off grimly. “Yes.”

Atticus stared at Bat for a moment. Then his eyes slowly lit up and his mouth spread into an incredulous smile.

“...You’re helping the Ministry fight Grindelwald?” he whispered.

“In a way,” Bat said uncomfortably. “I’m more an academic resource than anything. Adelia put me in contact with Minister Knightly several years back, and he sent me messages inquiring about certain things...asking me to put my ear to the ground in Knockturn Alley and such, among like-minded Dark wizards. Just try to sort out the source of Grindelwald’s new-found power, and what he might aim to do with it. Not that old Fawley’s been very forthcoming with help -- reckon it’s only because of the few contacts I worked with in the Department of Mysteries following up with me that I’ve gotten any updates since Knightly left office...”

Bat’s dismissiveness toward his work didn’t dampen Atticus’s smile one bit. On the contrary, the ex-professor was so delighted by it that he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing his compatriot’s shoulders. The affectionate gesture visibly startled Bat.

“Bat, that’s wonderful,” said Atticus. “With how much you’ve studied over the years...why, that kind of knowledge must be invaluable, to the fight against Grindelwald.”

His blue eyes sparkled with pride.

“It was brilliant of Ms. Selwyn-Ellison, to suggest you to the Minister. And so good of you, to do it...I know you’ve never much liked the Ministry, so you putting your differences with them aside, to fight Grindelwald -- it’s so good of you, to put the safety of others first.”

Red pricked at the edges of Bat’s eyes in response to Atticus’s proximity. Upon noticing it, Atticus’s smile flickered and died and he immediately backed away.

“Forgive me, I -- I forgot myself -- ”

To Atticus’s surprise, though, Bat didn’t distance himself further. On the contrary, he took the spent Blood Pop stick out of his mouth, replaced it, and then extended an arm so as to wrap it around Atticus and pull him up beside his chest. Bat buried his face right beside Atticus’s neck, while Atticus’s face landed right on Bat’s chest -- right beside the cursed, undead heart that pumped the blood Bat had to consume so regularly, just to keep his body and mind from going insane from blood lust...

“Bat?” said Atticus, startled.

The breaths that hit Atticus’s neck from Bat’s nose were as supernaturally cold as his hand as it anchored itself on the back of Atticus’s head.

“Thanks, Grim,” Bat murmured.

Atticus could hear the smile in his friend’s voice, and he relaxed a bit despite himself. It was a reaction most anyone else would’ve been shocked by, considering he currently had a vampire’s fangs mere inches from his neck.

But Atticus wasn’t afraid. Bat would never harm him. He would never harm anyone, unless it was to protect someone he loved...

Atticus heard Bat take a very shaky breath and could tell that he was struggling to restrain himself. Bringing a hand up to hold onto the back of Bat’s shirt, he gently pried himself out of Bat’s arms.

“Robert,” he said softly, “you should let go now.”

But Bat seemed oddly reluctant to let go, even though his fangs were lengthening. His eyes were shut tight as his hand tangled itself that bit more in the dark strands of Atticus’s hair.

“Not yet,” he rasped.

Atticus’s eyes grew softer still. “Robert...”

“I can do it,” he repeated, a bit shakily. “I can do it.”

He took a sip from his flask without even taking the Blood Pop out of his mouth. Then, ignoring the fangs still at the front of his mouth, he brought his head down to rest on top of Atticus’s.

“I want to remember,” the vampire murmured beside Atticus’s hair.

Atticus blinked. “Remember what?”

“What I’m fighting for, every time I go out and scout out information, for those Ministry sheep.”

Atticus’s lip twitched with a faintly exasperated frown. “I was one of those so-called ‘sheep,’ as you might recall -- as was Mr. Gibson, and as is Mr. Ellison.”

“Every flock needs a few sheepdogs around, to give them some direction,” Bat said dismissively.

“So says someone who turns into a dog on a regular basis, whenever he needs to shepherd the Selwyn-Ellison children back to school.”

Bat chuckled lowly as his long-fingered hand trailed through Atticus’s hair absently. The ex-professor felt his flush darken that bit more every time Bat’s cold fingertips grazed the back of his neck.

“You see, Grim?” he said softly. His set of four sharp, cat-like fangs glinted brightly as he smiled. “This is it. What I’m fighting for, right here.”

Atticus cocked an eyebrow. “Friendly banter?”

“You,” Bat corrected him. He closed his eyes as he grinned around the Blood Pop in his mouth. “When I’m with you, or Danny, or Rex, or Adelia, or Teddy, or Bertie or Vi or little Holly-berry...the Honeydukes family, and your students and mine...”

He opened his eyes again, smiling fully and handsomely no matter how monstrous his entirely scarlet eyes looked.

“...When I see you all live your lives, and can be part of them, even just in some small way...it’s like...I’m almost me, again. Who I was before. When I can talk about silly things with you -- solve your problems and make you smile...you make me feel alive. More alive than I have in a hundred and forty years.”

Atticus felt his heart swell in his chest, seeing such sincere joy in his friend’s face. When he’d first met Bat in Hogsmeade, he never could’ve imagined such a mysterious, reclusive vampire could smile like that -- such a warm smile, such soft and...well, beautiful. As beautiful as a sunrise...a sunrise this man would never be able to enjoy again, all because of his condition that made it so that everything around him would wither away, while he stayed exactly the same...

Bat felt happy -- he felt alive, because of Atticus. It was such an empowering, yet bittersweet feeling: like a bite of savory chocolate with a terribly harsh aftertaste. It made Atticus swallow back the lump in his throat and, after the shortest hesitation, throw out his hand and clutch the back of Bat’s waistcoat and hold his friend tighter.

“You...” Atticus whispered, “...are more alive than any other man I have ever known in my life, Robert Harker.”

Bat’s hand in Atticus’s hair stilled.

“Blood lust or no -- vampirism or no,” Atticus said more firmly, “you love life, and the people around you, more deeply than any human man. More deeply than I will likely ever know.”

Atticus’s mouth spread into a wide, open grin beside Bat’s undead heart.

“Don’t ever change. No matter what -- stay just the way you are.”

Bat was very quiet for a long moment. Then, clutching Atticus’s dark hair in his fist, he yanked himself away at last.

“I’m sorry,” he choked, “I can’t -- ”

He spat out the Blood Pop, his claw-like hand fumbling inside his waistcoat for his pewter flask. Atticus immediately reached out to help secure Bat’s shaking hand around the flask so it was easier to take a swig, and also reached into Bat’s pocket to unwrap another Blood Pop for him so that when he’d finally chugged down a good gallon’s worth of blood, Bat could immediately stick the Pop in his mouth and take several good deep breaths.

Once he’d recovered himself, the vampire chuckled.

“See?” he said playfully. “Told you I was the old man, out of the two of us.”

Atticus smiled wryly. “You know, you’re right. I think I can see the white hairs from here.”

Bat laughed louder still, as happily and sincerely as a man with no burdens to bear. It was a sound that likewise made Atticus’s smile grow that bit wider and his eyes sparkle that bit more brightly.

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #my writing #atticus grimsley #bartholomew varney #adelia selwyn #danny gibson #jackson knightly #gellert grindelwald #goddamn it I love these two much I can't stand it!!#feels so good to write for them again <33 #being set in 1927 this is a mere fourteen years before bat's death #and yup bat was secretly helping the british ministry fight grindelwald even way back then #oh also halloween *does* have some good songs now #but back in bat's lifetime? nope #I'd say most of the good halloween songs popped up in the 80's 90's and 00's #namely the nightmare before christmas soundtrack disturbia thriller and the like #happy birthday grim my dear!!

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