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#danny pov
seenoversundown · 3 months
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Saccharine
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Daniel x Fem OC
Warnings: 18+ Smut (Minors DNI) Oral (m receiving) penetrative sex, teasing, use of 'daddy' / daddy kink, Fluff and other cute things as well.
Word Count: 4.4k (4444 to be exact 🤭)
Author's Note: Couldn't get this idea out of my brain after I made that Valentine's Day post! Just thought it would be a little too cute.
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Saccharine (adjective): 1. excessively sweet or sentimental.
Daniel POV
“Please, Daniel, just tell me where we’re going.” She huffs as she crosses her arms. “You know how I do with surprises.” 
“We both know that’s a lie, Melody. We’re almost there anyways.” I laugh as I squeeze her thigh. 
It doesn’t take us long before we’re pulling into her surprise. I catch her constantly looking up recipes and watching videos of bakers online. I’m so excited that I’ve nailed this Valentine’s Day date that it feels like I’m having heart palpitations when I reach Melody's door. I can’t wait to see my girl’s face when she figures out what we’re doing. 
“Are you okay?” I snap back to reality quickly to her looking at me with a concerned look. I can’t help but laugh and press a quick kiss to her forehead before holding out my hand to help her out of the car. 
“Just excited for our date, Ducky.” 
“I’d be more excited if you’d tell me what we’re doing.” The sentence comes out through her gritted teeth. 
“Haven’t you learned just to trust me?” I open the door and place my hand on the small of her back to guide her through. As soon as the sweet, sweet smell of baked goods hits our noses, she halts to a complete stop. “Something wrong?” 
“Are we where I think we are?” Her hazel eyes light up in anticipation as she pulls my hand. 
“You’ll just have to see.” I pop my shoulders but can’t help the smile that starts to appear on my face. “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late.” 
We continued down a long brick hallway until we reached a door with delicate cursive on the glass. I watch Melody’s high ponytail of curls tilt to the side as she starts to piece together where we are. I let my eyes travel down my girl. Her soft red dress hit mid-thigh, and as soon as she came out of the bedroom this morning, I had to fight the urge to tell her we were staying home. Paired with her green denim jacket and short Doc Martens, my dream girl looks every bit of the dream that she is. She turns and catches me checking her out; I don’t make any attempt to hide it. 
“Mr. Wagner. This is no place to check out my ass when there are sweets on the other side of this door. Rosemary’s Confectionery? Seriously?” Melody’s arms wrap around my waist and squeeze tight; an involuntary groan escapes my lips as I wrap mine around her shoulders. “Her cinnamon rolls are my favorite. I’ve been trying to figure out the recipe for years. Daniel.” 
I simply stick two fingers under her chin and press my lips to hers, enjoying her speechless moment. I turn her back to face the door, reaching around her to knock on the door. It doesn’t take long for a small older woman to answer the door. 
“Mrs. Lennox, thank you for taking the time today-“ I begin before she quickly cuts me off with a wave. 
“I told you on the phone, Daniel, call me Rosemary. I insist.” I watch her smile at my girl. “You, my beautiful dear, must be Melody. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Daniel. I hope you don’t mind me saying I’m quite excited for this afternoon; it’s been some time since I’ve taught a class. I hope I’m not too rusty.” 
“Thank you for having us today, Rosemary.” I watch as Melody takes Rosemary’s hands in hers. The women have a quiet moment before Melody continues. “You make some of mine and our daughter’s favorite sweets. I’m excited for this afternoon, too; anything you teach us will be perfect.” 
Our daughter.  My heart stops every time I hear that phrase used regarding her ours. 
“Then there’s no time to waste, sweetheart!” Rosemary takes Melody by the hand, leading her further inside her studio. “Tell me more about your girl.”
This room is more significant than I thought, with its brick walls and tall windows, but Rosemary looks right at home. She walks over to a wall lined with different-sized aprons and finds my girl a soft green one that matches her outfit. I watch her excitedly throw it over her head, quick to get her curls out from under the neck strap. It wasn’t long before I saw Melody walking back towards me with a darker green apron. 
“Matches your eyes.” She says as she pops up on her toes to kiss me on the chin. I wasted no time swinging it over my head and turning to let her tie it for me. Once fully secured, I turn back to reach my hand to Mel’s cheek and place a soft kiss on her forehead. 
“Well, aren’t you two just perfection.” Rosemary's voice almost startled me, forgetting where we were momentarily. 
“It’s all my girl, Rosemary. I’m just lucky enough to be here.” I wink at Rosemary, but my eyes never leave my girl. 
“Let’s get started. We can talk while the dough proofs.” 
I thought this would be me sitting back, watching Melody and Rosemary buzz around her kitchen, but it didn’t take long for me to realize I was wrong. Very, very wrong. 
“Daniel, make sure all of those raspberries are smushed to bits. We need them to be very spreadable, dear.” Rosemary calls out from where she and Melody have been working on our dough. She didn’t even turn to look at me to know I had slowly stopped, distracted by a particular someone’s round ass and short dress. I try to focus back on the half-smashed berries before me, curious how a dessert cinnamon roll would even work. Is it even called a cinnamon roll if there’s no cinnamon inside? 
“Hey, Rosemary,” I call out, watching both women turn to me. Instantly, I regret what I’m about to say and feel stupid, but I can’t help it now. “Do you still call the raspberry cinnamon roll a cinnamon roll?” As I finished my question, my head naturally lolled to the side, and Melody’s laugh rang out through the air.
“No, dear, I don’t call them cinnamon rolls. I lovingly refer to them as raspberry rolls since they have raspberries.” My cheeks get hot as Rosemary finishes her explanation, seemingly taking extra time to really dumb it down for me. 
“That definitely makes sense.” My hand goes to my head as I involuntarily pull at my hair. 
“Any other questions, Daniel?” Melody’s tone is sarcastic and teasing; I expect nothing less. Since I’m already on a roll, I continue. 
“If I have your undivided attention. Are cinnamon rolls technically considered a dessert? If so, why do we eat them at breakfast?” 
Melody turns her entire body to Rosemary. “This is why he’s good with Iris. They ask the same questions.” Her sentence ends with a laugh. “I promise we can trust him with knives; we’ve already been over that safety course.” They both laugh at that and turn back to the dough, ignoring my questions. Fair.
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The small workspace is filled with the smell of warm, fruity baked goods. I lean against the freshly cleaned counter as I watch Melody separate and place our warm delicacies into individual boxes, complete with an entire container of that delicious icing. 
“Thank you for today, Rosemary. It was truly a pleasure to spend time and learn from you.” The small woman leans in for a hug, which I eagerly return. “We’ll definitely be making these until the end of time.” 
“I promise I’ll bring Iris by so you can meet her. She’d love it here.” I watch as Melody goes in for her hug with Rosemary. The embrace is tender, so tender I find my throat getting tight that I have to look away. “Ready to get going, Daniel? I’m excited to show our girl what we made today.” 
“Absolutely.” I grab her waist and bring her to me to kiss her forehead before grabbing our boxes of edible treasure. “Thank you again, Rosemary. Seriously.” 
“The pleasure was mine. You two remind me of the love I shared with my Arnold. Please come by anytime. Melody, I’ll be expecting you and Iris soon. You have my number. Drive safe out there.” She grabs Melody’s hand a final time before letting us head out. 
The cold February air is brutal once we eventually hit the outdoors. I watch as Melody shivers, takes her scarf, and pulls it up past her nose, leaving only her hazel eyes visible. 
“Fuck, why do we live where it hurts my face? I miss the sun.” 
“We live here because we wouldn’t last a day where there are bugs bigger than your hand.” 
“Right, how do Australians even survive? Absolutely not.” I can’t help but laugh at her as I find my keys in my pocket and hit the automatic starter to my car. I made Sam help me install my automatic starter shortly after Melody moved in. With the precious cargo I have these days, I can’t afford to wait for my car to warm up or my girls to be cold. Once Melody spots the headlights on our car, she starts to run. 
“Sweet, sweet warmth!” She screams as she barrels towards our car. I’ve already learned that I should unlock the car on winter days. She doesn’t wait for me to open her door when that’s all that separates her from regulating her body temperature. Once I reach the car, I place the baked goods next to Iris’s car seat, which has permanent residence in the backseat. 
“Way to leave me in the snow,” I say as I settle into the driver's seat, shoving my hands in front of the heaters to try and warm my icicle fingers. 
“Sorry, baby. You know how it goes.” I look over to her and see she’s already removed her scarf. “I’m also excited to get home and have our treats.”
“How do you even have room for more? I watched you try one of each, and you wouldn’t share.”
“One, how dare you judge me. And two, do you see this figure?” Her hands fan down her body. “Strictly run on baked goods. I was doomed when you brought us to Rosemary’s, and you knew that.” 
“You never cease to amaze me.” 
“That’s much better.” Her laugh, my favorite noise, fills the car. I reach over to place my hand on her cheek and bring her lips to mine. Her hands quickly find the sides of my jacket, trying to pull me closer over the center console. I nip once, twice on her bottom lip before running my tongue along it, just to be met by hers. We make out for a minute or two in the front seat before she pulls away. “Thank you for today, Daniel. I had a lot of fun.” 
“Who says it’s over?” I let my grin take over my face as I watched the gears in her brain turn. “Buckle up, Ducky. We have plans.” I take the stunned silence as my opportunity to start driving. It isn’t until we hit the highway that Melody finally says something.
“Where are we going?”
“Classified.” I see her cross her arms out of the corner of my eye.
“Where’s Iris?” Melody’s head is fully turned to face me, one eyebrow raised. 
“Sleepover with Gramps, complete with her new doll.” 
“How did you get a secret from my dad?” 
“Easy; no grandparent says no to a night with their favorite grandkid.” I also brought him cinnamon rolls from Rosemary’s last week. I also ensured he had all our streaming logins but omitted those facts. I glance over to her, who still has a skeptical look. “Just relax, baby. I got this.” 
Like our daughter, Melody has a wild ability to fall asleep in any moving car. We made it about half an hour before it got a little too quiet, and that’s when I realized. I trace small circles on her open skin where my hand rests on her thigh as I drive us through wooded backroads. The GPS on my phone says we are about ten minutes from our destination, and I hope I don’t miss it. The sun is starting to set, and if I miss this driveway, I’ll have to double back in the dark, and I just want this drive to be over. Thankfully, the driveway is so well-marked I have no issue just pulling right into our overnight getaway. 
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A small, modern black cabin sits in a wooded clearing softly lit by the setting sun. Melody has been sending me these Instagram posts from this company that has these across the country, and I just knew it would be perfect for tonight. I softly grip her leg and shake it lightly, helping her wake up. Her hands fly up to her eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. She blinks several times and looks around until her eyes set on the cabin. 
“Daniel is this-”
“There’s only one way to find out, Melody.”  She grins at me, her wild, happy grin, and I can’t help but return it. “Our bag’s in the trunk. The code should be our anniversary. Unlock the door for us, and I’ll meet you inside?” 
She’s out of the car and racing to the front door before I can say anything else. I laugh, grab our bag and goodies, and race inside after her. When I make my way in, I see Melody taking off her jacket while taking in the cabin. 
The slender cabin is covered in rich woods and white linens, and near the front door is a small kitchen area perfect for warming our cinnamon rolls later on. The bed on the opposite end of the cabin is a king-sized behemoth in front of an equally behemoth-sized window. That window, I assumed would be a problem, but we’re the only cabin around for miles. Standing in the middle of the room, she looks angelic, glancing at every little thing. 
“Is it good?” I ask her as I set down our things and remove my jacket. 
“I can’t believe you did this.” She says as she makes her way to me. Her arms snake around my waist and pull me close. I place my hands on her jaw. “It’s more than good, thank  you.” I bring her lips to mine, eager to taste her. 
My girl must feel the same way because the moment our lips connect, her hands tighten on my sweater. I tilt her jaw up for better access and slowly let my hand trail down her neck. A delicious moan sneaks past her lips that I want to devour. My hand softly settles at the base of her neck as the other makes its way to her ass. The way the fabric of her dress is, it slides in my hands giving me easy access to direct skin. I sink my fingers in, which grants me another moan from her. 
Moving my lips to her ear, I say, “I love this fucking dress.” A soft nip to her ear. “Did you wear it to drive me crazy today?”
“Yes,” she rushes out as her head bobs. “I knew it would work.” My confident fucking girl. 
I softly push her back onto the bed and greet the tip of her dress with my fingers. I kiss her inner thighs as I slowly move my hands up, taking the hem of her dress with them. When I finally expose her, a devilish grin becomes plastered. 
“You truly are some sort of witch, baby.” I can’t take my eyes off of her soft pink lace thong. The way it makes her skin look more rich is making me salivate. 
“Keep unwrapping your present, Daniel.” Melody’s voice is dark and low, contrasting what she usually sounds like. I’m obsessed with the fact that only I get to witness this side of her. I keep sliding her dress up until it’s over her head. She lays before me in a matching pink set, looking fucking delectable. Her dark curls fan around her as her hazel eyes watch me take her in. 
“I am one lucky man.” I say as I tear my dark blue sweater over my head. My hands fall to my belt buckle and start to unfasten it, and I watch her eyes drop down. “I have an idea, hold on baby.” I turn away from her towards the other end of the cabin, where the kitchen area starts. 
“You’re going to make me wait and go to the kitchen? Do you remember the last time you were alone in a kitchen?” My head whips back towards Melody’s direction, where she’s now sitting up and watching me with a smirk on her face. 
“I’m fine in the kitchen, thank you.”
“And that’s why we aren’t in charge of holiday dinners anymore?” 
“Oh, you’re fucking asking for it tonight.” With the icing container in my hand, I race over to where she sits, and her squeals fill the air. Quickly, I place the container on the bedside table as I approach my girl. “You think you can bring up the Great Holiday Disaster at a time like this?” I get onto my knees in front of her. I let my breath hit right between her thighs and watched her pelvis jerk up, trying to get any form of reciprocation from me. “You know that’s a sensitive subject.” I kiss the very top of her pelvis over her underwear and pull away to stand over her. 
Melody whines in protest, “Baby, please. I need you.” 
“Should’ve thought about that before you let your attitude run wild. There will be consequences, baby.” I watch her eyes dart to my side, then back to me with a mischievous glint; whatever she’s about to do can’t be good.
“I think I know how to make it up to you, Daddy.” She’s on all fours now, crawling towards me. I fight the urge to let my eyes roll back and growl. She knows exactly what she’s up to. It doesn’t take long before she’s on her knees on the bed before me, fiddling with the sides of my belt buckle. 
“Melody,” my voice is low in warning. My girl, however, is unphased. She looks up at me through her long dark lashes that I swear make her eyes look more green than hazel from this angle, and I groan. “You’re treading dangerous waters now.” 
“Am I?” She says as she fully undoes my belt and moves to the button of my pants. My erection is pressing so tightly against the zipper on my jeans that there’s no way she doesn’t notice it. Like she can read my mind, she undoes the button and lets her thumb lightly graze the top of the head of my penis. 
“Fuck me,” is all I can say as I start to gather her curls wanting to see her face. She presses a kiss right above where my boxer briefs meet my skin, and I swear I feel myself set on fire. 
“I plan to,” she quickly quips back. “Lay down, baby. Let me make it up to you.” Her voice is angelic and soft. I can’t help but follow her instructions. I crawl up towards the head of the bed and sit like a king as I watch her walk around the small space. I’m enjoying the view of her perky ass and the way her back flexes as she puts her curls into a high ponytail when she turns with the icing container in hand. Melody makes her way back to me with a devilish look. I just get harder thinking about what she might do. 
“Take your pants off for me, Daniel.” I quickly oblige, fumbling over the zipper and pulling them off. “I’ve been thinking about doing this since we made the icing earlier.” She kneels between my legs. “Can you take off your undershirt for me, Daddy?” I swear I start to become incoherent as I listen to her and jerk off my shirt, too eager to see what’s coming next.  
Melody bends down and presses a kiss on the band of my boxer briefs, and as I’m about to protest the tease, her tan manicured finger curls around the top of the band and starts to pull down. Her eyes stay on my face the entire time she pulls them down my legs, flitting only to my now-free erection. She takes the top of the icing container off and hovers over my chest. 
“I’m ready for my dessert,” she says as she starts to slowly pour the runny icing down the center of my chest, leading to my aching cock. She’s focused as she makes her icing trail, her eyes getting darker as she reaches my erection. I jump slightly when the cool icing touches me, but Melody leaves her other hand on me as a comforting touch of warmth. When she does reach my erection, she carefully pours it right on the head so it drips down all sides of me. 
“You look fucking delicious.” Melody’s lips attach to my chest first, and I moan. Her warm tongue laps up the icing while playing with my nipple. She nips at it once before giving the other equal attention. I watch her as she moves right above my belly button and lays her tongue flat on me, licking the rest of the icing off my chest in one long, languid stroke. “You are fucking delicious. God, Daniel.” 
She wraps her beautiful dark lips around the head of my cock and licks lightly. My hips buck at the feeling of her, always so perfect. It doesn’t take her long before she’s taking me down the back of her throat, lightly moaning as she works me. 
“Melody, baby,” my voice is harsh as I pull up on her curls. “I don’t wanna come in your mouth; I wanna come in you.” I barely even finish my sentence before my girl climbs on top of me and peels off her own underwear. She places her slit directly on my cock and slowly slides up and down, lubricating me in her wetness. 
“This doesn’t feel like a punishment,” Melody says as she lines herself up with the head of my cock. She teases both of us, bobbing so only my head goes in to pull it back out. I grab her hips and slam her down to the hilt. Her moan rings out. “Baby, yes.” My hands move her hips so she’s lightly grinding against me. “You feel so fucking good.” 
“Your pussy was made only for me,” I say as my hands travel up her body. My fingers graze right under her breasts, the pretty pink lace a stark contrast to her dark nipples, making them look more enticing. 
“I need more, Daniel. Please.”  With that, I flip us over so she’s under me. Taking her left leg, I pull it up towards her chest, giving me better access. 
“Show me how you touch yourself, Melody.” Her hand goes straight to her clit in quick circles while she watches me thrust into her. It doesn’t take long before I start to feel her walls begin to flutter around my cock. “You’re close, aren’t you, Baby?”
“Yes, God, Daniel, pleaseyes,” her moans become more incoherent as my thrusts become sloppy. 
“Come for me; show me how pretty you are when you come.” I slide my free hand up to her neck, lightly squeeze, and feel my girl come undone. I’m right behind her as I thrust once, twice, before my vision starts to black out, and I am still inside of her. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
I collapse on top of her with my cock still inside and nuzzle into her neck. I feel her koala-like grip around my body as she does the same. We stayed like that for a few moments before I separated myself. I quickly go to the bathroom, take care of myself, and grab a warm washcloth for her, but before I can even turn around, I feel a hand snake around my waist. 
“You should’ve waited in bed, Mel. I was coming back to you.” Her grip only gets tighter from behind.
“Sleepy, want to shower.” She murmurs into my skin. I can’t help but laugh at my girl, turning to face her. In front of me, in all of her naked glory, stands Melody. I take her face and kiss her forehead; her hazel eyes are tired but happy. 
“Okay, how about a bath instead? I don’t think you could stand a shower, love.” 
A happy hum is the only response I get as I watch her eyes close. 
“Sit on the counter for me, I’ll start it for us.” 
I keep my hands on her hips and help her as she hops onto the counter. I feel her eyes on me as I wander around this foreign bathroom. What she doesn’t know, however, is that I already stashed a small bag of our toiletries, including her fancy bath supplies. I watch her eyes light up as she spots the Lush bag in my hand.
“I thought you refused to go into that store alone.”
“Who says I went alone? I might have had a little helper with me. She picked the bath bomb for tonight, too, so you better like it.” 
“Which one did she get?” I say nothing as I hand her the covered bath bomb; she’ll know which one it is as soon as she sees it. Her laugh is loud, almost startling. “You let her get us Sex Bomb? Daniel.”
“What? We have another year until she can read, and she liked the smell.”
“I hate to break this to you, but our girl can definitely read a little. She’s already halfway through kindergarten.” 
“Fuck.” I watch Melody throw it in the tub, then reach out her hands for me. 
“I love the bath bomb, thank you.” 
“That’s why you can’t say it without laughing.”
“Exactly.” 
I turn off the tub, check the temperature, and then pull Melody off the counter. I get into the bath first, position myself at the back, and then hold up my hand to help my girl inside. She easily nestles herself up against me, a perfect puzzle piece. Everything about today, my life, is ideal, and it’s all because of the girl in my arms. 
“Hey, Melody?”
“Yeah, Baby?”
“I love you, Happy Valentine’s Day” 
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 3 months
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G̴̩͍͆͆̈́e̵̹̣͆t̷̬̋ ̸̻̮̎̒ĭ̸̏̃n̵͙̋͐ ̸̛̳̃t̶̪̣̅ḣ̸̳̇͜è̵̠̲͖̔̑ ̶̢̹̖͗͐̀Wa̵̬̞͝ṫ̴̩̣̣e̶͉̲̯͂̏̎r̴̉
It was a simple mission. Damian was working with Father to confirm the existence of a Lazarus Pit below Gotham, as Ra's Al Ghul speculated. And they had found it, deep in the caves below Gotham. A Pit the size of an Olympic sized swimming pool, bubbling and steaming. He'd only looked away for a moment.
"Kin-slayer."
Standing waist deep in the water stood Damian's reflection. The hair might be white, and the eyes glowing with the waters, but it was his face. But not his face alone.
Danyal's ghost glared at him. "Get in the water."
Father threw a batarang at him, but the metal flew straight through his head like it was air. Danyal didn't even glance at him, his eyes fixed on Damian. "Get in the water," he ordered again. He stepped closer to the shore and the green water sloshed up the bank higher than it was before. "Or I'll raise the tide so high, all of Gotham will die. So get in the water."
Damian's heart jumped into throat. "Wait-"
"Get in the water."
Father shoved Damian behind him, as if it would protect him, as if he could stop Danyal. "Stop this, please-" If he could just explain-
Another step and the waters surged forward, nearly touching Father's boots. "I'll make whirlpools so profound, your entire family will drown," he promised.
"NO!" Not his brother, his kind brother-
"THEN GET IN THE WATER!" Danyal snarled, revealing monstrously sharp teeth and a black tongue from Damian's poison. "G̴̩͍͆͆̈́e̵̹̣͆t̷̬̋ ̸̻̮̎̒ĭ̸̟̰͙̏̃n̵͙̝̟̋͐ ̸̛̳̃t̶̪̣̅ḣ̸̳̇͜è̵̠̲͖̔̑ ̶̢̹̖͗͐̀w̵̜͍̤̌a̵̬̞͝ṫ̴̩̣̣e̶͉̲̯͂̏̎r̴̉͜!̷̡͔́̀̽" He lunged and Father pushed them back down the passage they'd come. "Don't mistake this for a bluff, brother. You've lived more than enough. Just get in the water." Damian swallowed, throat dry. Was this Danyal's revenge? Did he finally have to face what he had done?
"Robin, who is this?" Father snapped, trying to keep retreating down the cave. But Damian wouldn't let him; the waters, and Danyal with them, would only follow.
Danyal looked between them, scowling. "G̴̩͍͆͆̈́e̵̹̣͆t̷̬̋ ̸̻̮̎̒ĭ̸̟̰͙̏̃n̵͙̝̟̋͐ ̸̛̳̃t̶̪̣̅ḣ̸̳̇͜è̵̠̲͖̔̑ ̶̢̹̖͗͐̀w̵̜͍̤̌a̵̬̞͝ṫ̴̩̣̣e̶͉̲̯͂̏̎r̴̉͜!̷̡͔́̀̽" he snapped again. "I'll take your father and gouge out his eyes, unless you want to stop being a coward and choose to die. Now... get in the water."
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Talk (Silence)
~
Danny has gotten used to not having to watch what he said as the years went by.
In Amity everyone basically knew he was Phantom and just treated it as normal, and he had already told his parents what had happened,
They did a total 180 on their opinions, now chasing after ghosts to question them about everything they could squeeze out of them.
They were very proud of Danny too, often helping him with their technology.
Having said that he got used to not watching what he said in Amity, everyone knew so why bother right?
Unfortunately he was not in Amity
He was in Gotham visiting Jazz, who had moved for University.
They were currently in a cafe catching up, talking as their used to.
Not realizing that their conversation without context sounded very worrying.
~
Jazz: " So how are mod and dad?"
Danny: "Oh you know the usual, they're making new weapons, hopefully this time they wont target me, getting shot sucks, but I prefer it over getting electrocuted "
Jazz: " Good luck!"
(TOPC)The other people in the cafe: What the fuck
~
Danny: " Vlad keeps putting cameras in my room, so I went and confronted him about it again, I don't care that he's the mayor! "
Jazz: " He really needs some therapy"
Danny: " He's a fruitloop, he's beyond help"
TOPC: *concerned side eye*
~
Jazz: "You know I was a bit more worried about the criminals here, but honestly weak, I miss actual competent villains"
Danny: "I told you!"
TOPC not sure if they should be offended or wary of where they live
~
Jazz: " You know I kinda miss the food back home"
Danny: "What that it would come back to life and fight you to the death?"
Jazz: " I mean that too, but I was talking about the taste"
Danny: " Oh yes the chemically contaminated food really has some extra flavor compared to this" *gestures at his plate*
~
Danny: " I went to the park to play with Cujo and got kidnapped and they almost cut me in half"
Danny/Jazz: "Typical Friday!"
TOPC recording on their phones to make sure they're not hallucinating, someone is live tweeting.
~
Just an Idea
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satoshy12 · 5 months
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Amity Parker Don't understand other Hero cities.
And started a massive pilgrimage to Amity Park.
It all started when a few people from Amity Park went on a field trip to other hero cities and got very confused pretty fast. - What do you mean people die here so often in hero fights? - What do you mean by buildings getting destroyed and not fixed? (blob Ghost do that all the time, they seem to love it!) Are your hero not doing their job!!!?
At first, the people of Gotham, Metropolis, Coast City, Bludhaven, or Dakoto City were pissed, but after the people of Amity Park just said they should stay a few weeks in their city, they would notice it. After one week in the new city,  most people moved out of their city to Amity Park. While this city had once a week has a world-ending threat, that threat seems to just have fun with the child hero in a fight. And those people helped them. The Victims of Scarecrow actually got help from the Master of Fear Fright Knight, who fixed their minds.
Number 1 rule in Amity Park - Don't feed the tiny cryptid Fenton after 10 p.m.; the last time we had winter in the summer was because of that. - Yes, they are fangs, and they are real. Don't try to let yourself be bitten. When he slept, the last one almost lost their hand. + The other Hero in their cities didn't take long to notice it, that they have significantly fewer people living in their cities. Like most of their cities, they lost 30–50% of their civilians! And no one seems to want to tell them where they are, as more civilians are leaving!
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sistertotheknowitall · 2 months
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Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.
Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.
——
By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.
Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.
He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.
Mia had been insufferable ever since.
It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)
Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.
There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.
Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.
Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?
It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.
Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.
“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”
“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”
Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”
“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.
Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”
“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”
Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”
“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”
“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”
“Danny!” Mia called.
Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”
(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)
After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”
Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.
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jaxon-exe · 10 months
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Dp x dc prompt
So this starts with Danny becoming the ghost king on his 18th birthday and almost immediately every power-hungry ghost in existence starts proposing to him. At first he just ignores it but after the 10th time someone tries to kidnap him to marry him Greek god style, he’s fucking sick of it and goes to Clockwork for help.
He’s not much help. The only way for other people to stop trying to marry him is if he’s already married. What’s more, because he’s the king of the infinite realms, it has to be someone that’s considered a citizen of the Infinite Realms. (Like he can marry someone that’s still alive but they wouldn’t count and people will just keep trying to marry him) CW also warns him that people will try and kill anyone he marries if they can so a living person isn’t really ideal. The only bit of real helpfulness he does provide is a list of non-evil non-power-hungry citizens so he can have an easier time finding someone.
So Danny takes the list and starts crossing of names (like Johnny, even tho the guy won’t abuse the power of being the ghost princess, kitty would kill Danny for good this time) when he comes across the perfect candidate.
Jason Todd (Robin/Red Hood)
He’s been to Gotham before, knows the Robins all do good work and knows the Red Hood is already a good and fair ruler of his criminal underground. Plus the guy could definitely fight off any ghost trying to kill him even without the power boost and some helpful weapons Danny would give him if he agrees. Plus he has the perfect bargaining chip to get the guy to help by offering to fix the corrupted ectoplasm in him (not that he wasn’t gonna do that anyway when he had the time to but Hood didn’t need to know that)
So Danny hops over to Gotham and after quickly getting permission from Lady Gotham (she’s very protective of her Knights) heads over to crime ally and pitches the idea to Red Hood.
Which basically goes like-
Danny: so I give u, the title of prince, access to the Infinite Realms whenever u wish, a sweet private wing in my castle, any of the op ghost weapons in the castles armoury and a fix for ur rage problems and u marry me so I stop getting people trying to propose to me in increasingly more annoying ways :)
Jason, a literature geek with a secret desire to be the protagonist in a shitty YA romance: u had me at Prince
So the two of then jump over to the Infinite Realms to get married thinking it’ll take 30 minutes top only to learn that CW left out that a Royal wedding has to take at minimum a week otherwise no one will consider the Marriage valid. So the two, not backing out at this point, join in on the week of parties and celebrations without putting much more thought into it.
Meanwhile back in Gotham, after not having Red Hood check in after his patrol, Oracle searches CCTV and finds Jason having a conversation with a figure that is glitching out the camera to much to identify them, then the figure seemingly grabs Jason and drags him into a portal and the two of them disappear.
So obviously the Batfam comes to the conclusion that Jason was kidnapped by some sort of magical being and calls in John. He identify the magic as that of the ghost king’s and has been hearing that the king had been looking for a bride so comes to the conclusion that Jason has been kidnapped Persephone style to be be married and is under the (wrong) conclusion that it will mean Jason can’t leave the realm of the death after.
And so the Batfam + Constantine start planing to crash a wedding.
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
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Finders Keepers
"Do not forget that the new groundskeeper is scheduled to arrive today at noon. I expect everyone to be courteous and to clean up their nighttime rubbish before his arrival," Alfred reminds them as they struggle to sit through breakfast.
Last night's patrol was brutal, and everyone was a bit bruised up and sore, not to mention that most only got an hour or so of sleep.
They collectively groan- except for Bruce and Damian, but neither count as full humans anyway, no matter what their DNA says otherwise.
Tim, in particular, is rubbing his hands down his face. "But Alfred, today's my only day off for the next six weeks!"
"I fail to see how your poor time management will change the outcome of doing your chores, Master Tim," The butler states. Tim cowards instantly at the sight of that arched brow on his grandfather's face and melts into his seat.
Pleased, Alfred taps his wristwatch. "You all have three hours. Better get to it."
They scatter. Bruce runs to his office to clean up all his paperwork, knowing some purchases were not Wayne Industries. Jason hits the multiple garages to ensure nothing bat-related is thrown in the toolboxes.
Dick is swinging by the handlers, taping his hands along the beams and pulling out hidden gadgets. Cass and Duke are walking on the roofs, double-checking the boobytraps.
Steph and Damian have offered to patrol the Batcave and the connecting tunnels to ensure the motion sensors are active.
Tim is told to walk along the property and make sure no surprise holes will appear. Bruce fell into the cave system when he was young, so the new groundskeeper might have the same fate. It's the more leisurely job since Bruce obsessively checks since it happened, but they all know Tim can barely keep his eyes open.
Tim doesn't mind because he must pat his bo staff on the ground, stomping his foot ever so often and scanning the environment with his wrist computer. He doesn't even bother to change out of his pajamas- an old pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt Kon lent him when he once slept over and never returned. It's mostly just a walk, but it feels like an entirety to his sleep-deprived mind.
His eyelids are heavier than usual, every blink feels like a bag of sand, and he still has to check at least three-thirds of the Wayne Manor grounds.
He is wandering towards the east side of the property when he finds a very convenient bush shaped perfectly to block the sun and offer him a tiny nooch to snuggle into.
He glances back at the house and then at the time on his wrist computer. He has two hours and twenty minutes before the groundskeeper arrives.
"One short nap," Tim mutters, getting on his hands and knees to crawl into the bush. He twists to lie on his back, using his jacket as a pillow. His whole body fits inside, so Alfred will likely not catch him. The scrub is soft, and Tim relaxes into his protective shade. "I'll get up in a bit."
The wind blowing through the trees and the bushes around him lures him to sleep.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hey"
A voice cuts through his dream of jumping over the city, chasing after his family but maskless. They weren't running around the roofs fighting a good fight; the Waynes in his dream were just spending time together. Laughing. Goodnaturely teasing.
It's wonderful.
It's everything he's ever wanted.
It's slowly disappearing as he is coming back to consciousness.
Tim groans, trying to roll over and return to the dream, but the voice speaks again. "Hey, man, you can't sleep here."
A hand clamps on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. Tim mutters, weakly swapping it away. "No. No. No."
"Come one, man, I can't have the big boss see you. It's my first day, and I don't want to get fired because I let some guy sleep in his yard." The voice continues, sounding pleasing and guilty.
Tim whimpers, rubbing his face against the cold hard ground. "No. No. No. Please, I just want to sleep. I'm not hurting anybody."
"Ancients....okay. Okay. Listen, I will let you sleep a little longer while I work. I'll finish mowing the yards and trim all the bushes. That should be at least five hours. I must move you if you're still here when I return."
Tim doesn't answer, too busy slipping back into his sleep as a hand gently runs through his hair. He snuggles into the warm palm with a sigh.
Someone gulps. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tim snaps his eyes open to see that everything is pitch dark. Oh crude!
How long has he been asleep? What time is it? Was Alfred going to kill him!? What was he thinking?
Of course, Alfred would kill him, and unlike Jason or Damiman, the elder would not fail. In fact, from what Tim could make out in the darkness, a man was standing over him wearing white gloves.
He found me! Tim thinks historically. I didn't even have time to run!
The white gloves move closer as if they were going to touch him. He leaps up with a scream, and a man falls over.
"Woah! Woah! Hey, it's okay, I'm not a cop!" The stranger- not Alfred- shouts. Tim pauses, then lets out a louder scream. The man rushes forward to slam his hands against Tim's mouth.
He glances frantically at the manor- it's too far away to see anyone since Tim chose to nap at the very edge of the vast land Bruce's ancestors purchased.- before hissing. "Could you keep it down? Look, I let you sleep long enough; you must move."
Tim blinks owlish at him. His mind is fuzzy- shit, was he hit with something last night? He couldn't remember.- but he thinks he knows him.
Dark Hair.
Blue Eyes.
Pretty facial features.
Oh, it's one of his brothers. Dick? Yeah, it's Dick. Has to be. Tim is sure. He can't think clearly now, but he knows his eldest brother. This guy has the same color eyes. It's him.
Does Dick know he is Tim's brother? Does he know who he is?
"Dick," He tells the man in jeans overalls, just in case he forgets his name. His brother frowns.
"I know. I hate to do it, okay? But you can't sleep here."
"I can't?"
"No, dude."
"Where can I sleep?"
Dick sighs. "I think there is a shelter that-"
"Take me home."
Dick pauses, taken aback. "What?"
Tim leans forward, resting his head on his brother's shoulder. "I'm tired. I want to go home."
"Where do you live? Is there someone I can contact for you?" Dick asks in high pitched voice, seemingly uncomfortable by Tim's closeness but too bad. Tim never gets enough hugs, so he must deal with it because he wants hugs now.
"No, I want to go home with you!" He whines, and the world starts to spin. Quickly closing his eyes against the nausea, Tim tries to hide further into Dick's shoulder. "Take me home with you."
Dick is quiet for a long moment before he slumps. Carefully, he reaches up to pet Tim's hair, and it's so comforting that he almost falls back to sleep. "I'm going to regret this, but something in my core tells me to do what you say. You wouldn't happen to know a Clockwork, would you?"
Tim shakes his head.
"Right. Okay, taking a homeless stranger I found in the Waynor Manor bushes. Seems on-brand to me. Let's go."
Tim follows.
Who was he following? He doesn't remember, but when he climbs into a van with the words "Phantom Groundskeeping," he doesn't feel worried.
In fact, once he's buckled in, head leaning against the window and pulling his legs up to his chest, he feels oddly protected. The driver of the van is also beautiful.
Like wow. Talk about a work of art.
"I love you," He tells the man, who laughs, flickering blue sad eyes at him.
"Thanks. Take a nap. I think you should sleep off whatever your on and then I can get you some help."
"Do you love me too?"
"....sure. Go to sleep now."
"Will I die?"
"What?"
Tim can feel the word fading away, which is terrible; he knows it is but can't remember why. He just knows that when it disappears, he'll never wake up again. He tells the stranger as such, voice just barely above a whisper.
Glowing green eyes snap to him in alarm, and a small breath of blue leaves the stranger's mouth. Tim thinks he's slowly gaining a hint of horror, but his body begs him to sleep.
Tim blinks once, then twice, as the stranger's mouth opens and closes before he snaps his eyes to the road. "What a time to go mad."
The diver's grip on his steering wheel tightens, but Tim can barely keep his eyes open, so he can't see the gorgeous stranger's face as he whispers. "No. I won't let you die. Just....just sleep, okay? I'll figure it out."
Tim does.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Crap!" Jason yells, running up the stairs from the Batcave. In his hand are the test results for the standard toxicity screening they all undergo whenever they fight someone who even remotely deals with drugs.
Everyone was too tired to look at them properly, which means they all missed that Tim's blood was covered in what looked like a blend of Poison Ivy's love pollen and some kind of sleep-inducing strain.
Tim is out there, somewhere tripping balls or cuddling up to a stranger or unconscious, slowly slipping into a coma. They all thought he bailed on his work and deserved a day off so no one bothered to go after him.
Now Tim could be dead.
He rounds the large hall, his stomping footsteps barely covering the sounds of Alfred's smooth voice.
"It seems the groundskeeper is asking for a week off already. He just got married and-"
"Crap! Crap! Crap! Bruce!" He shouts, slamming the door of his dad's office open. His grandfather and father both turn sharply to him, and neither misses the paper that Jason throws. Their eyes widen in horror when they read what's on the report. "We need to find Tim!"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jazz wakes to find a half-dressed stranger curled around Danny, a ghost contract with drying blood on the ground, and a hastily made banner that reads "Happy Elopement!" thrown on the wall.
The living room looks like a confetti bomb went off in it. Did she miss a party being hosted in her own house? While sleeping in the room next door?
Johnny- her ex and surprisingly good friend after he stop bothering her brother- is sitting cross-legged, eyes glued on the TV.
"What. The. Fuck." Jazz asks, walking over to pour herself a cup of coffee.
"Morning," Johnny replies without so much as turning around. Since Jazz helped plan his and Kitty's wedding, the ghost becomes a brother to the Fentons. "Danny eloped."
"I figured as much by the banner." She mutters, walking over to the couch his brother and her new brother-in-law occupy. She stares at the stranger. He looked....familiar?
"Yeah, don't know all the details, but I guess his hubby was dying, so Danny pulled a Ghost King contract out of his ass and saved him by passing on his healing factor after they were hitched," Johnny says. Jazz takes a sip of her coffee. "I think he thinks he can divorce him or something. But till death due us part doesn't apply to Halfas. They're married forever, even in life or death."
"Shit." Jazz sighs. "Danny got himself into another situation. And he was doing so well recently, too. Became a groundskeeper for the Waynes and everything."
"Waynes pay well?"
"Danny could have paid off my student loans in four paychecks."
"Damn." Johnny whistles. Just then, Kitty floats through the wall wearing a red bathing robe. Jazz will never get used to the fact ghosts could look so human in the morning, with their messy hair and dazed expression. "Morning, babe."
"Morning," Kitty mumbles, leaning down to kiss Johnny. She glances at Danny and smiles. "They're so cute. I'm so happy Danny found his Core Mate."
"Core Mate?" Jazz asks.
"Like a soulmate but more dead," Kitty explains. "They are scarce to find, but once your core finds what it wants, it's fated. That's probably why Danny married so quickly, even if it was to save a life he normally wouldn't have."
Jazz looks back at the boy wrapped around in Danny's arms. Her brother is holding him like he's the most precious thing in either world, even in his sleep, and she knows that no matter what she or anyone says, he's not going to give up- wait a minute.
The stranger moves slightly in his sleep, snuggling up against Danny more, and his hair falls out of his face.
Shit.
"That's Tim Drake. Danny stole away Tim Drake." She deadpans. "Danny went over to cut Bruce Wayne's yard and returned with his son to elop with."
"In one afternoon? I'm impressed." Johnny laughs. "He really said all services included."
"Don't be gross, Johnny," Kitty scolds, but she's smiling. Jazz just shakes her head, reaching down for the contract. She may as well read what kind of dead-brain idea her baby brother got involved with this time.
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medusas-graveyard · 6 months
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Someone you used to know.
Concept:
an AU where after Danny's parents find out the truth about his biology, they turn their weapons against him; affectively leaving him no choice but to run away. There was no longer a 'Daniel James Fenton'; a child long dead after he was killed via electrocution. He cuts contact with everyone— and I mean everyone; only the god of time knows where he is. He turns to Gotham to start a new life there; under the guise of 'Danyal Nightingale', a homeless kid in crime alley, under the protection of the sentient city herself.
Enter: Bruce Wayne.
Bruce Wayne was quite the enigma to him. The teen basically knew everything about self defense, but Bruce is rich rich; Danny can't really understand why he would need to be athletic as shit for "self defense" when he's pretty sure he could've just hire mercenary level bodyguards. But he doesn't pry on it too much; because Danny understands that somethings are better to not poke around at.
They both grew up. Danny still couldn't understand Bruce. They grew closer, yes; but Bruce would literally... disappear. Like— for long amounts of time. He would ask Alfred for his whereabouts, but the butler simply shook his head, insisting that Bruce would be fine.
And he was right, technically.
The (now pretty grown) man would always come back, even if he was battered and bruised. He would wave off his best friend's worries with "I'm fine"s and "stop worrying"s that just fueled his distaste about Bruce leaving.
And then Bruce left, again.
While he was slightly annoyed by Bruce's constant disappearance, he can't help but just sigh in resignation at the hard headed billionaire. Bruce will come back.... eventually, at least.
He was right; Bruce did come back.
But he didn't.
He couldn't.
He was trapped inside a neverending nightmare.
Because they found him.
Years pass by and his whole body felt numb, numb, numb. He's always either strapped inside a straight jacket in an empty room or torn open like a frog in biology class, on top of a surgery table. He doesn't remember how to speak, what he sounded like, what food tasted like— how it felt to move freely. Because all he could do over the past years (decade?) Is silently take the torture if simply existing.
On a good day, they would let him dream. He dreamt of talking, hyperfixating about stars and Greek mythology— he dreamt of playing tag and cooking messily in a kitchen; all with a boy and older man whose face he doesn't remember. On those days his life felt a little more bearable; like it gives him the motivation to just exist.
"... there's no way you're named after a bird."
"....ne. What's yours?"
"Danny is a nice name."
"Hey, wh— HEY! Get down from there!"
"Don't be such a worrywart. I'll see you soon, Danny."
".....Danny"
".....Danny!"
"Danny....?"
His dazed eyes weakly focused on the familiar voice calling his name; the sight of a dark figure by the lab door greets his line of sight.
He's strapped on the table; chest still wide open as the figure rushes over him. He could hear their heart rattling inside their ribcage and their heaving breaths.
....no. this is all just a dream.
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Text
Have some DC x Danny Phantom memes from the pov of some poor Casper High student on a fleid trip.
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Edit: part 2 is here
Edit: part 3
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sentient-stove · 18 days
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“Well there’s contract magic- that’s what Constantine does, along with the majority of prevalent magic users.” Tim nudged her foot out of the way, continuing the chalk circle around them. Sam turned to follow, wondering how he managed to keep the circle so even.
“Wait, who’s Constantine?” Tucker asked. “They’re not in the files.”
“He’s a pain in everyone’s ass.” Danny muttered. “He’s in contract with half the Creatures on this side of the realms. You know the amount of ghosts I got complaining to me cause he tricked them better than they could when they went under contract?”
“Hnn, yeah most wouldn’t take too nicely to getting tricked. Salt please.” Tim handed the chalk to Tucker in exchange for salt from the bag he’d shoved into the other teen’s arms. “And then someone like Zatanna is Born with her magic, but Born are rare, so I doubt one of them would be targeting you three specifically. Leaves us with Creature or Cursed.”
Sam watched in mild amusement as Danny tried to smudge the chalk-and-salt lines, static bursting from the point and making him recoil. “Creature, that would be fae-things right? Ghosts, demons, whatever is made of magic or magic adjacent?”
“Basically. Salt will help with that. The chalk is hopefully for anyone who tries to cast like how I do. Although trying to harness magic by manipulating curses is rare since it involves far too much grave and museum robbing. Lucky for me, mom and dad did the legwork, so I haven’t needed to rob a grave yet. Mind setting this cat pair at the northern and eastern points of the circle?” He offered two tiny stone cats to her and Sam wrapped her hands around them, the smooth stone unnaturally chilled.
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months
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(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)
...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.
She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.
Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.
The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.
Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.
He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.
He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.
But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.
And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.
His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.
Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.
Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.
"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.
"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more
Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"
Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.
On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.
And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.
Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.
Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?
She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.
Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."
She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?
Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."
"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."
Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."
The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.
She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.
But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.
"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.
Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."
Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.
(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)
"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."
"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."
"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"
Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."
Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."
It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.
"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.
Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.
She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.
"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."
(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)
(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)
Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.
Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."
With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#sam is one protective gal. this scene went differently in my head. way differently. but alas. i am not complaining.#sam: if bruce wayne abandoned my best friend i'm gonna physically transform myself into a dragon and incinerate him. how dare he.#bruce and damian got to watch in real time as a random girl who knows danny suddenly realizes he's related to them. which is comical to me#because she suddenly goes from being disinterested but weirded out by damian. to suddenly looking at bruce like she's gonna kill him#which is very funny to me bc from their pov at first its like this random girl just speedran hating bruce. and then her parents bring up he#friend danny and then she calls him danyal. and suddenly its starting to click into place like 'oh fuck wait we may just have a lead on --#-- finding danyal and his whereabouts.' especially after sam's mom mentions the scar on his face. like wow. what a crazy ten minutes.#not seen but def happened: sam gets her phone out to go text danny in the corner. she's not gonna bring up the bruce thing yet. she needs#a pick me up. related note: danny and tucker know she's gone to some gala thing with her parents but not to a wayne gala. if danny had know#he may have told her that he was related to damian wayne. just to prepare her for that. not so sure on the writing in this one folks#but i also dont wanna go through and edit anything its like half past one in the morning and i also dont wanna wait until morning to post#when i can just do it now. and get instant serotonin. i thought of this scene in various ways. like sam calling damian 'danny' out of shock#and then quickly correcting herself. and then excusing herself very quickly. or her mentioning that damian resembles her friend danny a lot#so she was just thrown off by him. because i def think that could happen if sam has no reason to think that she needs to hide danny from th#waynes. i also thought about her parents mentioning that damian resembles danny a little bit. only for one of them to go 'oh no no couldn't#- be. how insulting to damian since the daniel they know has this horrid scar on his face.' and then go from there. either way i thought#a scene like this would be fun. get to also kinda explore how danny looks like from his friends' povs. of which he is#'our lovable jerk who is an ex-cult member and whom we will maim someone over.'#not a scene that was added but i wanted to: sam mentioning in parenthesis that she and tucker think danny was part of a cult prior to the#fentons. and that sometimes danny will say something alarming and sam and tucker will stare at him until he frowns and goes#“that... isn't normal. is it?” and tucker will clap his shoulder and cheerfully go “no buddy. no it isn't” bc i think the idea is funny.#sam is so focused on the idea that bruce abandoned/ignored/was unaware of danny's existence that she momentarily forgot that bruce may have
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daredevil-vagabond · 1 year
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pov: your fav has transmasc swag
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puppetmaster13u · 26 days
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Prompt 268
Fright Knight sighs, running a clawed hand through his hair in an attempt to stop the flames from flickering into being. It had been far too long since he had taken a human-ish form. His human-ish form. Ugh. He didn’t exactly care for his human form after so long as a ghost, but needs must he supposed. 
Especially with the whole, we’re going to punch a backdoor into the literal daycare part of the Infinite Realms and be surprised when literal toddlers go exploring. 
Well, at least it got him off of guard duty for a bit, which was relieving. Not that he didn’t love the darkness, but it got boring in the shadow of his sword for literal centuries with nothing else happening. He was a warrior for Realm’s sake! Borderline an Ancient in both power and age! He wasn’t meant to stay so still for so long. 
So while ghostling wrangling wasn’t exactly in his area of expertise, he could definitely gather them back up to the Realms. And deal with the curs who had decided to attack literal babies. 
The Daycare area was already understaffed due to just how large it was, and the one in charge of this section had practically sobbed to the Council (In another world they would have been put on hold for a century in line for their concerns, and then more once a Sarcophagus was opened, but they had told the other ghosts in distress, causing others to let them go up in said line) how they were almost certain they had felt at least one core form Outside the realms thanks to the breach. 
Which had understandably put everyone at an uproar. 
So here he was slipping between shadows to do reconnaissance and take stock of if any Ghostlings had left the city. And gently scruffing those he comes across in exasperation because what are you doing, ghostling? Look at the mess, what would your caretaker say? 
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satoshy12 · 4 months
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My hero actually DID his job!
It had been a political meeting with the big media, as Vlad had to listen to other citizens talk about their heroes and complain about how they have more supervillains and damage. As a reporter, asked Vlad, the mayor of Amity Park, what he thought about it. He himself didn't talk about villain attacks or similar.
Vlad:" It's not my fault that your heroes are failures."
Yeah Vlad insulted every hero and city just with 1 sentence.
Politician angry from Metropolis:" What the hell are you talking about?"
Vlad:" How many years did your heroes fight their villains in your cities with collateral damage?"
Someone from Gotham said, " Maybe now 20 years maybe more."
Vlad:" The hero in Amity Park only took 1 year to show all his villains the right path, that they dropped being evil, and only once in a while visit to fight the hero without any damage to the city other than that place where they fight."
Vlad had built an Arena for it; it helped both Ghost and Danny fight and train.
Many of them are silent, as if they couldn't believe 1 word to say, " Impossible. Our heroes tried it for so many years."
Vlad:" If your failures did their job, you wouldn't have any villains years ago. So, yes, I don't think your heroes do their jobs."
Vlad then didn't talk anymore about this theme; he got bored of it.
And for the media and politicians, 1 online search and they saw Vlad told the truth... And they were kind of angry and confused. How comes that boy in 1 year fixed all his villain but someone like Superman or Batman wasn't able to do it for years!
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thevoidstaredback · 3 days
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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.
Not like him.
Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.
Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?
No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.
Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.
'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"
Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"
Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."
Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.
Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."
"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?
"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.
Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.
The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.
"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.
Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"
Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."
Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.
Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"
Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?
He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.
If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.
Part 3
Tag List: @flame-343
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mokulule · 3 months
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Almanac - Chapter 4
DP x DC Dead on Main First | Masterpost Note: I made a new masterpost to subscribe to over on my new blog where I organize my writing @mokus-invenstory. Links on the other chapters have been updated, I will still notify on the old post with updates.
Chapter 4 - October 21-22nd, Orinoids Meteor Shower
Training with Fright Knight was an experience.
Jason was no stranger to harsh training regimes, but it seemed like Fright Knight truly had no other duties to attend to. And maybe that was what ghosts did? Find the one thing they were good at and then do it for all eternity? It was exhausting, unrelenting.
Every day he went to the kitchen to find a plate of breakfast ready, thankfully it wasn’t the same thing every day. He wondered if it was courtesy of the Lunch Lady, but he never saw anyone else and the cupboards and pantry were empty.
The mystery of who and how human food came to be here itched at him but as long as the magical castle felt reluctant to even let him get to the kitchen in the first place (he’d yet to walk a path quite the same there) it was something he would have to leave unexplored.
He ate and then as he was done as if summoned Fright Knight would collect him and drill him until he dropped.
The knight treated Jason as if he’d never held a sword before starting basic at stance and simple attacks repeated ad nauseum, with the occasional cardio and strength building exercises. While Jason preferred guns, hand to hand combat and occasionally knives, it wasn’t the first time he’d fought with a longer bladed weapon. His general training meant he could pick up most weapons and use them successfully so he thought it was rather unfair - not that he was fool enough to raise that opinion, this wasn’t the first stern training master he’d served under.
And arguably he didn’t have much experience with medieval style broadswords. So he sucked it up and did as ordered.
There were no breaks throughout the day, no more food. You’d think it was a form of torture that he didn’t get to eat more than breakfast, but Jason, while he got tired, never got hungry throughout the day. Apparently he got the rest of his needs covered through energy diffusion or some shit - assuming he’d understood the king correctly.
His waking moments were repetitive, but he was not bored as such. Not that he was enjoying himself either, but he was busy, occupied. Training and learning new skills were never a waste - he had to tell himself that. But when he laid in the barren room, which he still considered his prison, in those short moments before exhausted sleep claimed him, horror creeped in; horror that this would be the rest of his life.
Another day another drill.
The weight of the practice sword in his hand felt as familiar as breathing after 9 days of non stop practice.
“You are becoming complacent,” Fright Knights voice boomed as always from everywhere at once despite him clearly looming right in from of him.
Jason tilted his head regarding the knight for a moment. He wondered how much sass he could get away with.
“Well you could give me a challenge instead of this,” he returned evenly.
Somehow Jason had the distinct feeling the knight was smiling unseen in the darkness under the helmet.
“Very well,” his voice rumbled like a storm in the distance, setting all of Jason senses alert at the coming threat. His grip tightened on the practice sword.
The knight turned and flew over to set aside the neon green sword he carried at his side in favor of a practice sword in the weapons rack by the wall. For the first time since Jason had seen the knight kneel before his king, his feet touched ground.
He stalked towards Jason, a weight and realness to him now as the armored shoes clanged against the cobblestone. The hair at the back of Jason’s neck stood on end as the air charged with his approach. Every instinct in his body told him to be afraid. Someone with less combat experience might have frozen, Jason picked his guard up and turned so he made a smaller target.
The cobblestone knocked his breath out and his sword clattered across the stones. His ears rang and he could already feel his left eye swelling from where it had met an armored fist. Above him a couple of shooting stars shot across the clear sky in rapid succession before the Knight stepped close. He loomed above Jason and for one horrifying moment Jason thought he would ram the practice sword through him, blunt tip and all.
Instead the knight held out a hand.
Jason wet his dry lips and took the hand. He was pulled unceremoniously to his feet.
“Did you notice what I did?”
Not only did Jason notice that twist Fright Knight had done that had sent his sword flying, he very much felt the way he socked him in the face.
“Yes.” Jason had not expected he’d be dueling something like a fucking Kryptonian, nobody that size had the right to be so fast. The trick to fighting Kryptonians and people of that speed class was more in anticipating their moves rather than reacting to them, and more importantly coming prepared with something to incapacitate them with. Jason had no clue what might be Fright Knight’s weakness, probably wouldn’t be so easy as to laugh at him.
The knight nodded at his response.
“Good, now to counter.”
He then walked Jason through no less than five possible counters, to what was apparently a rather risky move he’d done - had he been alive at least. The counters were well and good, but as long as Jason had no way to counter the speed, the knight could repeat the move at his leisure.
Not that Jason pointed that out. No, Jason practiced dutifully and found himself seeing the stars multiple times that day. He got very well acquainted with the cobblestone. On the seventh meeting with the ground, he thought he saw a glimpse of light from a window high above the courtyard. He could have sworn it was the king watching, but as he got back to his feet and looked back up the light was gone. Maybe it had just been a reflection, a trick of the light from one of the many shooting stars.
Still, reminded of why he was here, his mood soured. Yes, Jason had put himself in this situation, but he’d expected to die for his sacrifice - and maybe that would have been too easy an out, but he’d certainly not expected to be discarded, like the unwanted possession he apparently was.
Resentment curled in his gut. Poor little king never wanting to have been summoned having to take Jason as payment. It was clearly such an ordeal.
Jason snarled getting back to his feet and for the first time he went on the attack. Fright Knight seemed amused, which only egged him on. Jason reached for the All-Blades but of course they didn’t manifest, because in this stupid place not even someone named fucking Fright Knight counted as true evil.
He let Jason wear himself out, disarmed him again, and punched him hilt first in the stomach. Jason crumpled over the practice sword and slid down to his knees, gasping for breath.
The knight considered him for a moment, waiting to see if he would get up again. When he didn’t, he made a minute shake of his head.
“You have spirit, but your mortal trappings do you no favors.”
Jason couldn’t help laughing at that. What was he supposed to do? Apologize for being alive?
“Blame your king.”
Oo o oO
That night Jason dreamt of Gotham, or more specifically of Crime Alley. Dick was patrolling in Jason’s absence, but he didn’t know the Alley like Jason did. He didn’t know of the small shadowed nook in that building that made for a perfect hidey hole. He didn’t see the gun pointed at him, didn’t move until the shot rent the air.
Jason sat up in bed gasping and shaking.
It was a dream, it was a stupid dream. He fumbled automatically for his phone, before he remembered, there was no way to make sure. He was stuck in the realm of the dead. It was a dream, he firmly reminded himself.
Still he shook and couldn’t bring himself to go back to sleep. Dick’s shocked face haunted him whenever he closed his eyes.
Gingerly he stepped out of bed. Clearly the order to keep Jason alive hadn’t kept the knight from beating him to hell and back. A particularly spectacular bruise mottled the side of his torso in purples and blues. From the twinging pain with every breath there was probably a few bent or broken ribs underneath that.
He walked to the bathroom, where he’d hung his clothes to dry after washing them in the sink. He reached out to touch them to find them cold and damp, a testament to how little sleep he’d managed. He shivered at just the thought of pulling them on, but he didn’t exactly have anything else to wear.
He couldn’t go back to sleep. He needed to move. That gun had been aimed for Dick’s head. It was just a dream, he reminded himself sternly. He needed to pull himself together.
Taking a deep breath he reached for his underwear first, pulling it on with a grimace. Disgusting was not a strong enough word, he thought grimly. He was cold and miserable by the time he’d finished dressing and trapped his damp socks in his boots and tied them.
Dressed, he left the room for the hallways, expecting the castle to give him a good walk around as usual - expect he’d barely walked down two hallways until a door revealed the kitchen. There was a cup sitting on the table in front of his usual place. Curious he walked over to pick up the steaming mug, he put it up to his nose and sniffed it. His eyebrows rose in surprise - hot cocoa.
He glanced around and like always saw no sign of the presence of anyone but himself. He took a sip and amended his earlier assessment with a hum of pleasure, this rich taste could only be hot chocolate. It sat warm in his belly and he found some of the restless energy leaving him. He sat down and allowed himself to relax. He held the cup with both hands and let the warmth seep into his fingers with a sigh.
Maybe the castle didn’t entirely hate him after all.
He sipped slowly, savoring the treat. The hot chocolate was good, it wasn’t quite Alfred’s but-
A wave of homesickness overtook him and he slumped forward in grief. Maybe Jason would manage to escape some day, but Alfred was not exactly young anymore. People died suddenly sometimes, even when they seemed healthy.
Jason wasn’t there anymore. He couldn’t check on his family. Not Alfred, not Dick (it was just a nightmare!) or anyone. A mocking laughter haunted him as if from a distance, a memory wanting to drown him. He clenched his fits tight, he wasn’t back there. He was here, property of the ghost king, safe.
Unlike everyone else.
The Joker was still in Gotham. Still alive despite everything, a threat to everyone and Jason was useless.
He was a fucking idiot. He’d sacrificed himself willingly, but he hadn’t expected to have to live with the choice.
Did that make him a coward too? On top of everything?
He stood. He couldn’t sit here. He had to move. Before he knew it he was walking through hallways, uncaring where they took him. Left, right, nothing mattered. He just had to move. He didn’t know how long it he walked until he found himself, breathing heavily, in front of a stairwell. There was something familiar about it. His eyes were drawn to the path down. He’d never chosen to go down before. There was something down there. He took a step forward.
“Jason.”
He froze and spun around at the echoey voice. It felt like all the breath left his body, sucked into the gravity of the king.
Toxic green eyes flicked from Jason to the stairwell. Dark brows drew together in a frown, and the shadows suddenly seemed darker, deeper, like places you could fall into and disappear never to be seen again.
He floated closer. The pressure increased. Jason locked his knees to keep standing. There was a siren blaring in his mind, a scream lasting an eternity. Cold fingers touched his swollen eye soothingly and Jason gasped, a quiet little intake of breath into his burning lungs.
He wanted to move away. He wanted to lean into it. He wanted- He did nothing.
The gloved tips of fingers became the flat of a palm cradling the side of his face oh so gentle. Jason felt wetness in his eyes and blinked. He couldn’t handle gentle right now. His skin tingled and the swelling fell. The king looked at him, green eyes sad.
“Are you okay?”
Was he okay!? Jason ripped away, fury finally breaking the spell.
“The Hell I am!” In his mind Dick’s shocked face, a second from being shot flashed, “my family could be hurt right now, dying-“ a crowbar dragged across a concrete floor, a terrible laughter skittered across his senses, and every hair stood on end- “tortured.”
Jason took a step forward into the king’s space, snarled, “and I can do nothing!” into his shocked face. Playing at innocence, as if Jason’s words were a surprise. As if he didn’t know exactly what he’d done. He had changed the wording, acting like he’d done Jason a great favor. He chose to keep him here, useless, powerless.
He stepped back. Looked at the king with anger gone cold. “Killing me would have been a mercy.”
Jason braced himself for the worst. He’d said his piece. He expected an explosion, a onesided fight, for his brain to melt out his ears, something other than the hollow eyed gaze only vaguely looking in his direction.
The lights flickered and finally the king seemed somewhat present in his body. He looked at Jason with the most neutral face in existence.
“I shall relieve you of my presence, goodnight.”
He flew casually over to the staircase and went up. It was only then Jason snapped out of it.
No! How dare he!
He ran after him, but of course he was gone. The cursed castle made sure of it. Jason wanted a fight and he would not even give him that! He punched the wall with a frustrated scream that cut off into a sob.
“Shit.” He rubbed angrily at his eyes. He was fucking pathetic. Couldn’t even pick a fight right.
Oo o oO
Fright Knight found him in the practice yard, doing drills, sweaty and shaking from exhaustion.
“You are pathetic human, sit down before you fall down.”
Jason glared. “No.”
The knight promptly pushed him down on his ass. “Do not test me. I was tasked to keep you alive. Drink.”
A bottle of water was shoved into his hands.
Mulishly Jason did as he was told. It was only when he’d taken the first sip he realized just how thirsty he was and he had to force himself not to just chug the entire bottle in one go.
Fright Knight watched him with that detached disgust he had for mortal weaknesses, like the need for sleep or in this case sustenance. He was a fucking annoying, stuck up bastard, but-
“Why are you not evil?” Jason asked in frustration, too emotionally worn to consider whether that was a smart question to ask. If he had been evil, Jason could give him a proper fight. Let the knight try to phase through the All-blades.
When no response of any kind came, he looked up. It seemed he had rendered the knight speechless.
Slowly hesitantly the knight finally spoke, “You speak as if you’d prefer that I was evil, yet I was led to believe you are aligned with so called heroes.”
Jason scoffed and looked away. “Not a hero.”
Fright Knight floated down to sit crosslegged in front of Jason, his glowing green sword drawn and resting across his knees.
“I am the spirit of fear itself, I am neither good nor evil, I just am.”
Jason barked a short chuckle, of fucking course. Then, he explained the concept of the All-Blades to the knight; flaming magical blades fueled by the soul and blood of the wielder, only able to be summoned in the presence of true evil. The knight in turn looked very intrigued.
“I would have liked to match my Soul-Shredder to your All-Blades. A glorious bout that would have been…” the knight said wistfully.
“Soul-Shredder is the name of your sword?”
“Indeed,” Fright Knight chuckled maliciously in a way that ran cold down Jason’s back, an effect that was done on purpose judging by the greedy glow in his gaze. Jason felt fairly certain he feed on fear.
The knight raised the green blade between them and turned it to let Jason see every facet with obvious passion. “One cut from Soul-Shredder will land you in a dimension of your worst nightmare.”
Jason’s breath caught in his throat. No. He refused to think about it. He forced a half choked laugh, “and you claim not to be evil.”
The knight looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe if we had met in the previous king’s rule, we could have had a proper match.”
Jason frowned in confusion. “Why would who the King is matter to your nature?”
“Because human,” Fright Knight began, green eyes boring into Jason, “the King is the most important soul in the Realms. His nature affects the very air from which we get our energy.”
“Pariah’s reign was a dark time,” there was an almost nostalgic tone to his voice as he continued, “he sought to conquer, control and enslave and I was his loyal servant, as is my duty as a knight. But Pariah was so bad that having no king at all was a better option than him, and he was sealed away by the Ancients, even if it left the Realms stagnant and disconnected.”
He paused for a moment to let that knowledge sink in.
“Our Phantom is a king who never wanted to rule, and has actively avoided it. It has been amusing to see him grow into the role.”
“And as long a he doesn’t grow into a power hungry despot he will always be better than the last?” Jason asked bitterly.
The knight barked out delighted laughter at that.
“Make no mistake, mortal, Phantom is a good king now, but he is young, still changeable by nature. These years are crucial. But should the worst happen and my king become a despot, as you put it?”
Fright Knight shrugged carelessly. “I will merely do as I have always done and that is to serve my king. I am the spirit of fear after all. It is only my concern now because my king wishes to avoid that fate.”
Leather creaked as the knight tightened the hold on his blade. He looked straight at Jason. Despite no mouth being visible, Jason had the distinct feeling the knight was grinning.
“We may yet have our bout someday.”
-
And that was chapter 4... nobody is really in a good place here? Except Fright Knight, he's having fun.
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