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snaileer · 1 year

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Dare to Live (Part 2/2)

DPxDC Part 1

It all started with a dare really. You’d think, after all these years, after having done at least a /bit/ of growing up, Danny would be able to refuse a dare from his best friend.

But here he was, about to drop through a mystic portal with full intentions to make Tucker eat his words.

And Sam too, for agreeing!

“Come on Danny, times a ticking, sands a wasting.” Tucker said in a sing song voice, floating behind the portal lazily.

“Yeah, Danny, we didn’t spend two days finding the perfect dimension just for you to chicken out,” Sam said, laying on her back in the air and pretending to inspect her nails.

Danny felt his eye twitch.

“I told you, Sam, he couldn’t be mysterious and mystical if he tried, even under pain of a double. Dog. Dare.” Tucker emphasized.

Danny whipped his head around, staring his best friend in the eyes, “You really think so Tucker? A double dog dare?”

Tucker smirked, leaning back with his arms crossed and a smug look, “I know so.”

“Then prepare to eat Lunch Lady’s hairnet, Tuck, you’re on!” Danny grinned and shot backwards through the portal.

He relished the way Tuckers face went green as he passed through. Well, greener.

Danny turned invisible the moment he felt the resistance of a dimensional barrier go past him, and boy was that the right decision, the whole place was in chaos.

Danny floated invisibly in the sky with a puzzled look on his face. Was that guy… flying? What in the-?

A laser beam passed through him, making Danny look down to see he was intangible, but why? Could he be tangible again? He focused, and yep, there he was, tangible and visible- visible?! Danny lost focus and disappeared again.

Hmm, okay so looks like his default state here is invisible and intangible but like even more so than back home, interesting.

Danny looked back at where the laser came from, surprised to see an entire ship behind him. And not like a pirate ship, oh no, not even a cruise liner, a big, bony looking alien ship.

Danny wanted to squeal! Aliens! This realm had aliens!

Calm down Danny, remember the dare, mysterious, mystical, think, what gives off big mystical vibes?

Ok, first off, royalty. Danny summoned his crown, ring, sword, and cape, ok good but what else?

Eldritch maybe?

Okay he’s already got fangs, and blue skin, he could probably let his hair be a little more free floaty, and he’s already a full grown adult with shoulders like his dad, that should be enough right?

Another laser shot through him.

Rude!

He looked back, surprised to see a group of people aiming weapons at the big alien ship. He looked closer.

Was the… was the alien ship trying to… to crush this city?

Were these…. bad aliens?

Noooooo, that meant he had to stop them! But he likes aliens!

Danny reluctantly reared up to punch the big ship, pausing when he saw how the other flying people were struggling against it.

Oh Idea?

Super-strength? Now there was mysterious and mystical.

He smirked, oh he had the perfect entrance!

Thank youuu Kingly strength.

Danny positioned himself in front above the ship then created a double actually touching the ship.

He let himself appear, keeping his double invisible as he held out a hand and then swiped it down, using the double to push the ship into the ground.

Luckily, as Danny had just noticed, the ship seemed to be floating just outside the main city area and most everything below it was already destroyed.

Err, well, it certainly was now.

He fought the urge to wince. Mystical powerful beings in the sky don’t wince, Danny.

Still, he looked around at all the destruction. He hadn’t been back in a human realm since his own life, and the destruction had been common place then too, in his own hometown at least.

This was… worse, much worse. He really had to hold back a grimace as he saw a couple ghosts start forming on the edges, he could feel that they were feeding off of his own ambient ectoplasm.

Yikes okay, maybe giving a source of brand new ectoplasm at the sight of a disaster was not the best idea but… he could fix this!

Danny held out his arms, calling the newly formed ghosts to him, letting them use him as a portal to the Zone.

And then he very quickly locked up his aura from releasing more. No one saw that right?

He stood there floating for a minute before he saw the blue and red flying man begin to approach him.

He smirked again, aw yeah time to see if it worked!

Danny lowered himself marginally to meet the man in the middle.

“I am Superman,” Weird name but okay, “Protector of Earth. Thank you for helping us. But…” Superman looked hesitant, “Who are you?”

Aw crap, okay think Danny, big dramatic name, do NOT blurt out your real one. Double dog dare, come on think of something, anything, you have been staring for way too long-

“I am High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms of the Eighth Dimension; The Great One, Feller of the Tyrant Pariah Dark, Tamer of Vortex, Conquerer of My Future Now Past, Keeper of Death and Life, Wielder of the Ring of Rage, Bearer of the Crown of Fire and The One True Balance.” Danny blinked slowly, hoping that was ‘mystical’ enough for Sam because ancients he was really running out of coronation titles there.

“You are well met Superman, Protector of… Earth.”

Hang on. Earth? He was on Earth? Not his Earth but really this was Earth? With Aliens?

He wanted this to be his Earth, dang it why did he have to get the boring ghost invested one?!!

The man looked like he wanted to back up by about thirty steps so.. it worked?

“And.. Your Majesty is here because…?”

Danny stopped his gentle float.

Uhhh. Uhh. Okay good reason, think of a good reason to be here. Visiting? No that’s dumb, it’s not a zoo. Uhh, curious, no that’s not mysterious enough! Okay mysterious, mysterious, think mysterious. OooOooooOo, MysTeRIouSssss.

Who does he know that’d be mysterious enough to pull this off?

…

Clockwork!

Okay, what would Clockwork say? Uhhhh

“You will find out all in due time, Superman of Earth,” Was that good? No that sounded threatening, “But for now, I am here simply to observe.” That was better right? Okay leave before he asks more questions.

Danny floated down to where the other colorfully dressed people stood in a semi-circle.

Well colorful and one in all black.

“Superman, who is this?” The one in all black said with a glare as he stepped forward.

Danny opened his mouth to recite the titles again, points for mystical-ness, when he was cut off.

“Batman, this is King Phantom of the Eighth dimension, he’s… visiting?”

‘Batman’ raised an eyebrow under his cowl, “Eighth dimension, is that at all related to your troubles with a certain fifth dimensional imp?”

Now Danny felt justified in being at least a little offended, “Watch your tongue, Man of Bats,” that was a sufficiently mystical naming right?, “Accuse me of being a fifth dimensional pest again and we shall see how long you last in no dimensions at all,” Danny paused, “Mortal.”

Ha, in your face Tucker, he was so good at this!

Tag list:

@blep-23 @theblackcatscratchpost @fylylowo @coruscateselene @breesperez139 @kataaitheskittle

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theglamorousferal · 10 months

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The Cryptid of Smallville

I am posting the first couple chapters of the fic that I am currently working on juuuust in case AO3 goes down again. In the next couple days I’ll start posting some of my wips that I don’t think I’ll finish. If any of them inspire people to write more then I’ll be happy.

I had the thought a while ago about what if Danny was raised alongside Clark Kent and the hijinks that would result in Danny being near the liminal space that is cornfields. These are basically a series of connected one-shots because I am not that great at trying to do a real plot lol

Without further ado, here’s the first chapter of the Cryptid of Smallville! (Small edit: here’s the link to AO3 the first two chapters are there)

______________________________________________________________ The night sky was clear and open above the cornfields as a gentle breeze caused the plants to stir. It was a calm night on the Kent family farm. A streak of neon green broke across the sky and landed in the middle of the fields, purple tinged smoke wafting from the crash site. A boy of about six rolled over in his sleep, glowing green eyes glancing at the stars above framed by smoke. The gentle breeze is still blowing, returning the night to calm.

*****

Danny was gonna put Clockwork in soup time whenever he got back into the Zone.

He was laying there, staring at the clouds in the sky, surrounded by corn, and only about three and a half feet tall, wondering where in the Realms he was. Clockwork had said something about sending him off somewhere with people who could handle a child with powers growing up before tossing him through a portal by the ankle. He had ended up in low orbit and was lulled to sleep by staring at the stars he is so fond of.

Crawling out of the hole he was in, he examined the surrounding area and just found a bunch of burnt and slightly smoldering corn and kicked up dirt. The gentle breeze brought the smell of bacon to his nose and he floated to look just above the tall plants around him. He spots a house in the distance and starts heading there, making sure to walk the last few yards just in case this isn’t where CW intended him to go. He finds himself stumbling from the field just to make eye contact with a man pulling on his work boots for the day on the porch steps, the man freezes.

“Hey Martha?” The man yells into the house.

“Yes Jon?” a voice muffled from the door yells back.

“Do we have a spare room done up?” the man, Jon, asks, not taking his eyes off Danny.

“Why? Are you expecting someone and forgot to tell me?” the voice sounds like it’s getting closer to the door.

“No honey, I think we may have a repeat situation of Clark though.” He briefly glances from Danny up to the last bits of smoke wafting from the field. A quiet “What?” comes from the house. He gentles his voice, full attention on Danny. “Hey son, did you have a bit of an accidental landing in the corn? Is your head okay? Are your parents around?”

Danny stays still for a moment thinking about what’s going on. The man seems to at least suspect that he crash landed on his property and mentioned something about something like this happening before. Have these people dealt with a random child appearing at their house before? Specifically one that crashed from the sky? He has many questions, but he should probably answer Jon first.

“Yeah, I got sent away until I was better, my head doesn’t hurt at all and my parents are not exactly from around here, and don’t know where I am.” He pauses thinking about it. “Does the children-crashing-onto-your-farm-thing happen a lot to you?”

Jon chuckled as he finished tying his boots up and walked down the stairs just as the door opens and a woman in an apron is standing there looking surprised to see an unknown child standing in her yard. The man crouches down in front of Danny, giving him a once-over.

“You’d be surprised, now what’s your name son?.”

“It’s Danny Fenton, what’s yours?”

“Jon Kent, my wife over there is Martha. Now you look like you could use a good meal and a washup, how’s that sound?” Jon grins at Danny and musses up his hair before standing and offering a hand to walk into the house. He smiles over at Martha who blinks and then gives Danny a warm smile, standing aside to let them enter the house.

“Good thing I made some extra breakfast then, let’s get some food in you young man, you’re as skinny as a post!” She smiles and heads towards the kitchen. “Be sure to wash up your hands first hun, can’t eat with dirty hands! And Jon! What have I told you about your muck boots being in the house! I’m sure Danny can find his way and wash his own hands; second door on the right hun; and git outta my house with those things on, I’ll have more coffee ready for you once you feed the animals!” Jon pouted and trudged his way out of the house.

Danny smiled a little to himself as he looked for the door Martha was talking about, noting the wallpaper and decor that looked like every midwest farmer’s house he’d seen in any piece of media ever. After washing his hands he made his way to where he could hear soft humming and dishes being washed. He saw a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table next to a glass of orange juice, a glass of milk, and a container of syrup and headed to the spot.

“Thank you Mrs. Kent.” he said from his seat and she smiled back at him, going back to the dishes. Danny realized he’d probably have to start explaining what he could to them soon, but decided to focus on the breakfast in front of him. The breakfast that wasn’t alive and currently trying to kill him. He nearly cried.

“So Danny,” Martha began as she wiped her hands off with a dish rag. “Do you remember how it is you got here?” She joined him at the table with a cup of coffee after setting a mug, a spoon and the sugar bowl next to the machine for her husband when he came in.

“I do, it’s a really weird story though, I’m not sure you’ll believe me.” He was hesitant, he still wasn’t sure these were the people that Clockwork meant to send him to. Though they’ve taken the whole crash-landed-child-thing pretty well… Screw it, he’ll see if he can wait until Jon comes back and explain to both of them. “Can we wait for Mr. Kent too? I don’t really want to say it twice.”

She smiled at him, taking a sip of her coffee and then nodded. “That’s fine hun, he shouldn’t be more than a couple minutes unless the rooster decided to pick a fight again.” she chuckled to herself, looking out of the window while drinking her coffee. She sees the faint trail of smoke rising in the sky outside and her eyebrows pinch in worry. “You didn’t happen to see anythin’ burning when you got up, did you?”

Danny glances out the window and sees the smoke. “Oh no, there was just a little bit still smoldering in the hole, but there wasn’t anything actively burning. I can show you both when I finish explaining what I can.” The slapping of a screen door startles him and Jon walks in, heading straight for the coffee maker and making himself a cup, then joining them at the table.

“So Danny-boy, what can you tell us?” Jon gives his full attention to Danny.

Danny shifts in his seat, looking every part the six year old he appeared to be, uncertain at the attention of two adults. “Well, it’s a long story and kinda out there? I’m not sure how much you’ll believe?” He looks uncertain at the pair across from him who share a look. Martha reaches across the table to take Danny’s hand.

“Honey, you wouldn’t believe the stuff we’re used to, I’m sure it’s fine.”

Danny only hesitated a moment longer and then sighed looking far older than his apparent six years. “So to start off with, wherever this is, I’m not from around here. I’m assuming since you both speak English that this is still Earth, but maybe not MY Earth, I’m still a bit confused on the whole ‘multiverse’ thing, but either way, I got sent here until some stuff got sorted out and so I’ll be here until it does.” He was rambling, he knew, but he’s kind of anxious about stuff. “I kinda got put in my childhood body and now I have to get back to my actual age and my Guardian said something about time here running differently than in my dimension before he just chucked me through a portal. He did say he was sending me to people who could handle my weirdness as I age, so I’m assuming you are them and maybe have some experience with kids with freaky weird stuff happening to them?”

The Kents once more shared a look, this one a little longer than the last, then turned back to Danny. “Oh son, I think you’ll fit in just fine. So, how long can we expect you for? I can tell you’re probably a lot older than six judging by how you talk?”

Danny blinked at him, trying to process the fact that they didn’t seem phased and rather seemed like they believed him. “Uh, I was sixteen, so I guess a decade? I’m sorry to impose on you for a while, really I can figure out stuff on my own, I don’t want to be a bother.”

Jon chuckled “Oh trust me son, it wouldn’t be an issue, I’m sure Clark would love a younger brother, or at the very least a friend who understands him. We have plenty of room here, and though we’d probably ask you for help with chores, we’d be glad to have you for however long you need.”

Danny blinks again at them. They weren’t serious, right? They just seem fine taking in a random child and having him live with them for however long. And who was this Clark? What did he mean by younger brother?

“Clark?” he asked hesitantly.

“Oh right, our son, you’ll meet him when he gets home from school, I’m sure you’ll get along just fine! Now Danny, let me show you to a room and we can get you settled, we’ll probably have to head on over to the thrift shop to get you something to wear besides these charred and muddy pj’s, but we should have something from Clark that’s too small that’ll fit you for now.” Martha took his hand and led him upstairs to where he’d be in apparently his new home.

*****

Clark had had a pretty boring day at school. The classes were boring. He had to hold back in gym class again and when studying the skeletal system in biology, he started studying the teacher’s bones instead of the display skeleton or the worksheet. He was really looking forward to getting home and maybe going for a fly around the fields where no one could see him or maybe catching the latest episode of Rescue Rangers.

He could spot his house in the distance and after looking around to make sure no one would see him, he sped down the driveway as fast as he could, knocking up a lot of dirt in the process. He really liked going fast, whether running or flying. He just loved the wind in his hair.

“Ma, Pa, I’m home.” he kicked his sneakers off and rushed upstairs into his room to drop off his bag. He listened around for heartbeats and realized that Pa was out on the tractor and Ma was out with the chickens. He froze as he heard a much closer sound though. It was very slow and faint, but he could hear another heartbeat in the house. Even more, he could hear someone muttering to themselves in the guest room and the flipping of pages.

Clark slowly made his way down the hall towards the sound and peaked in the room with his x-ray vision. There, sitting on the ceiling, was a child about half his age reading a ratty old book about space. Clark stood in the doorway, now able to see him in regular vision and just stared at him. He took a moment until he decided to just join him up there and sat across from him.

“So who are you?” Clark asked while the kid was still focused on his book. He didn’t even look up from the book.

“Name’s Danny.” The kid paused for a second before he looked up and stared at Clark. Danny looked from Clark to the ceiling, to the floor, and then back to Clark. “Oh, so that’s why they said I’d fit right in here. I guess we are pretty similar! I’m guessing you’re Clark then?” The child beamed at him, putting out his hand to shake. Clark took it gently, not wanting to hurt the kid. Then the kid gripped his hand tight and Clark realized that they have more in common than he thought and gripped his hand tighter in response.

“So where are you from?” Clark asked, very curious as to how this kid who could fly and had his strength, but also had almost no heartbeat ended up at his house. Danny rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m not from this Earth and I kinda got put here to recover for a long while and my Guardian decided your parents are the best equipped to handle a kid growing up with powers, so he sent me here. I’m guessing because of you?”

“Yeah, mine started manifesting around your age. What powers do you have? How long do you plan to be here? Where are you from? You said this wasn’t your Earth, I’m guessing you’re from a different dimension then? That’s so cool!” Clark, ever curious, shot off many questions rapid fire and Danny laughed while answering them all as best he could.

Part 2

#Danny Phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #superman #clark kent #danny fenton #danny is a cryptid #cryptids #de-aged danny #ma kent #pa kent

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suzukiblu · 1 month

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An update for a fake cryptid and a real romantic, featuring oblivious!Clark, delighted!Superboy, and a lot of impending suffering for the diamond industry. 💎

( CrypTim not actually included in this installment, but here in spirit. )

#timkon #clark kent #kon el #conner kent #superfamily #superman #superboy #rinfic #wip: a fake cryptid and a real romantic

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orittsu · 1 month

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DC Prompt #1

In this au, Robin doesn't appear until after Batman and Superman have met each other.

And looking at how...bright Robin is there are 3 theories:

Batman is just some guy. He respects Superman and thus, adopted a kid that embodied his optimism

Batman isn't human and he just liked Superman so much he poofed Robin into existence.

Robin is made from a piece of Superman and Batman. In hopes of brightening Gotham or something???

Inspired by this thread.

#cryptid batman #fandom: dc #dc prompt #o-k prompts #this could be #superbat #i guess? idk #dc superman #dc batman #dc robin #what does a piece mean?#anything you want. up to you #batman prompt

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violetbumblebea · 2 years

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Clark should be slightly unnerving to look at. He passes human but people still get chills when they are in the same room as him. They get the primordial sense of 'Danger. Predator.' (There's just something wrong about him) It's the the Uncanny Valley - a non-human that looks like a person but could seriously injure you.

Most people can ignore it. But, every now and then (maybe he moved to fast, maybe the light caught his eyes wrong, maybe his teeth seemed sharper), people will flinch.

The first time someone doesn't flinch or look uneasy around him (save his parents) is with Batman. In exchange? Clark will do whatever it take for him (WHATEVER it takes)

#clark kent #kal el #superman #elderitch #cryptid #uncanny valley #uncanny #scary superman #batman #bruce wayne #martha kent #jonathan kent #ma kent #pa kent #smallville #metropolis #gotham #the daily planet

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superman-the-secret-third-thing · 15 days

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Golden Age Superman Munching The Unmunchable!

Honestly, I don't think there's an actual bigger flex than this.

Superman's diet includes: Fire pokers, molten steel, poison, magnesium bomb, grenades, bullets, acetylene torch, and deadly microbes.

#superman #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #comics #clark kent #dc #Superman is a cryptid

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faeriekit · 9 months

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Health and Hybrids (VII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and this is lucky number seven baby 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Martian Manhunter did a Whoopsie. Things are better than they were though, so...success? YJ got in trouble with Batman but Danny wasn't exactly cognizant enough to notice so that got relegated to the tags.

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

The debriefing team meets J’onn in a meeting room not too far from the cafeteria. By the time he makes it to the correct floor, the team has clearly been waiting on him; on the table are a pack of Chocco cookies, a large order of fries, and a ten pack of chicken nuggets.

J’onn inclines his head. It’s nice to see that his favorite meal is remembered. “Thank you, Batman.”

Batman’s nod is equally as formal. The human is already most of the way through his italian sub. “No thanks needed. Were you successful in your contact with the entity?”

Ah. Right to the details, then. J’onn obliges the question with a seat at the table. Black Canary, a chair to his right, gently scoots over to provide him more space.

In the end, J’onn is relieved to have a prop in his hands. It creates a small, if flimsy barrier between himself and the images the boy had shown him.

What he knows now…

J’onn sighs.

The room is peaceful— likely intentionally so, in order to ease the oncoming conversation. Wonder Woman and Black Canary sit beside each other, their individual meals open and half-eaten between them. As the facilitator of the conversation, Batman sits at the end of the table; as the secretary of the meeting, Superman sits beside him, his sloppy joe in one hand and a keyboard beneath the other.

J’onn quietly tears open the packaging of his pack of cookies. Plucks one from its plastic insert inside. Chews. Swallows.

“The first thing to note is that although the entity's primary language is not known to me, he is extremely familiar with humans— and, likely, with Earth.”

Superman swallows the rest of his sandwich in one gulp, nods, and begins to type. Batman turns to face J’onn directly. “How so?”

“He has many memories of flying freely in Earth’s atmosphere, specifically; the stars line up with the star patterns as viewed from this planet. He is intimately familiar with several aspects of Earth’s culture, including the idea of ‘a bedroom’, which he identified as his own, and a childhood toy, which was a scale model of an Earth spacecraft. If I was shown a variety of options, I could likely pick out which craft specifically. He has a mind for detail.”

Superman’s fingers flick rapid-fire over the keyboard. J’onn happens to be aware of the Krytponian’s career, as the local telepath, but rarely is the man's passion so clearly shown; the focus and quick hands certainly project an air of professionalism around an otherwise at-ease debriefing room.

“You’re using he/him,” the Kryptonian observes, making additional notes in the margins of the in-progress report. “How did that come about?”

“He does have an understanding of the most common gender identities of Earth, and has a favored one. How he came about it…” J’onn inhales. It is a very human gesture. “…I do not know his origins for certain, but I have several theories.”

Batman cuts off an oncoming question from Superman with a silent wave of his hand. “Base information first. Questions and theoreticals at the end.”

Superman’s face at the hindering of his professional instincts is perhaps less than completely mature. “Yes, yes.”

J’onn takes a second cookie.

It’s easy to report on certain things; the entity's initial inability to communicate without acute pain, the subsequent reaction of the teenage team, the eventual discovery of clear communication and transference of emotion.

“Not all of his thoughts were particularly clear.” J’onn nibbles on the edge of his cookie. Black Canary pushes aside her empty tray of California rolls to give her pen and notepad space. This portion of the debrief necessitates more of her skills. “Most of the memories that he aimed to show me were value-neutral, or otherwise unrelated memories, likely due to the stress of his current and deeply traumatic situation. He preferred memories that did not have pain or distress associated with them. When prompted—I displayed my own perspective of the crash we had found him in— the associated memories that were brought up implied that not only was he the pilot of the craft, but that he had a hand in building it.”

Superman’s rhythmic tapping undercuts the soft conversation. “So he is sapient, then, despite the difficulties in communication,” Wonder Woman confirms softly.

“More than. There are echoes of formalized schooling and other instruction in his mind, although I couldn’t discern the topics of the lessons.”

“Were there other beings like him? Anyone we could reach out to? Family members, friends…?”

J’onn hesitates. There’s no way to confirm what he saw. However…

“…There are memories that he has of his own person, in which he looks very human. His self-conceptualization is of an adolescent human boy.”

The grief in the room is palpable. J’onn doesn’t have to look up to feel it press in on him from all sides.

“I suspect that…in the same way that Superman has largely spent his life on Earth, this boy has at least spent several years on Earth as well. There are glosses of memories of an adapted human house, though I was unable to safely explore how far back they went. There are humans who prominently play a role in his self-image and expected worldview, although the mental representations of them have scarred over with some form of psychological trauma. Overall, despite his current form, there was likely a time this child felt safe around both humans and human scientists.”

Silence rules over the room.

“...Do we know what changed that?” Black Canary asks, without looking up from her notes. Her pencil eraser taps quietly against the table.

J’onn sets the package of cookies to the side. “Not…so exactly. There were hints of memories threaded throughout the recalled moments that he did not wish to pin down. Claustrophobia. Fear of incarceration. The fear of physical harm done to him— and the psychological harm of knowing with exact certainty that there were those willing to hurt him. …Intimate betrayal.”

Superman and Black Canary’s eyes quietly close. Batman looks hardly moved under his cowl; if J’onn could not feel the man’s stress spike in the air, he might not have ever known how worried the human was.

J’onn isn’t actually meant to know Superman’s circumstances as to his arrival on planet Earth, but there are equally few ways that any of the league can hide the entirety of their thoughts from him— especially at the time of his initial arrival into the League, when mental defenses had yet to be erected in a comprehensive manner. This situation smacks strongly of the story of Clark Kent, son of his human parents.

“There is no way to confirm my guess without further conversation on the topic. However, it is incredibly likely that he lived under the radar, on Earth, for a lengthy enough span of time to acclimate to human society. The discovery of his non-human biology would have spurred further action, and the result would have given reason for his fear of medical professionals, scientists, and adult humans. Likely, the other humans in his memories meant to support him, and were prevented from doing so or injured in the process. The vehicle that had crashed back to Earth would have served as—”

“—An escape route,” several voices overlap together.

J’onn nods. His fingers steeple together. “There is no way to know how far into space he had gotten, or if his escape was aided by others of his species, or even if the point of origin was in low atmosphere or Earth's orbit. Either way, our patient is alone now, is in extreme background pain, has lost perception in several of his senses that exclude taste, and has reluctantly bonded with the junior team due to a lack of more familiar presences.”

Batman’s emotional presence circles into a silent exhale of frustration. “That would be Impulse’s under-the table operation,” the human correctly identifies, dry as the desert.

(J’onn is certain that the vigilante will never reveal it, even to himself, but the exhale has its own quiet, microscopic tinge of reluctant amusement.)

“I don’t think it qualifies as under-the-table if you have a running file on his activities, dated and timed by every individual interaction,” Superman points out, not even bothering to glance at the now-slightly-peeved Batman.

“Hn.”

“Oh, very mature.”

“It was not league sanctioned.”

“Neither are the majority of your movements,” Wonder Woman points out. The fork from her salad punctuates her sentence with a tease and a wave. “If you informed us your security plans for the Watchtower any earlier than a week after you had already installed the new measures, I would assume you were an imposter and prepare for battle.”

Batman hardly looks put out. He achieves deception with his whole body. J’onn genuinely admires how discordant his behavior and churning thoughts can be.

“Hn.”

“Oh, very well-spoken,” Black Canary flatters insincerely, toying with her pencil against her paper.

It would be very immature of Batman to sulk. Therefore, he does not.

“Returning to the point of this meeting… Are there any other pertinent details we ought to know?”

J’onn considers shrugging. He packs three chocco cookies into his mouth instead, chews, and swallows. There are only two cookies left in the pack, now.

“The biological mechanism utilized for his empathic sense is vibrationally-based. That would be why my initial attempt at communication failed so tremendously; if he does have a neurological center, it is too deeply damaged to interpret telepathic input. He has a fondness for astronomy, can recognize the color red with greatest ease, and likely needs high contrast if we would like him to recognize any materials we provide. He imprinted on Impulse likely because the boy’s presence in the Speedforce mimics the energy readings he expects to see in those of his species.”

Superman hums. His fingers fly. “So he must have met others of his species before.”

J’onn makes a so-so motion. “There is no way to be certain. His abilities may be instinctually pre-programmed, or he may have had access to outside materials to teach him.”

Batman’s arms cross. His sandwich, which had been sitting on the table, is now entirely vanished— wrapper and all. “Was there any evidence as to either particular theory you were able to pick up on?”

“...No.” Hadn’t he indicated such?

“Was there any personal information you were able to pick up on?”

J’onn has to think about that one. The topic hadn’t come up during their mental exchange, when so much more of the focus had been on creating basic understanding of the Watchtower, his presence within their base as a patient and not as a prisoner, and his current location on the moon. Anything else that J’onn might have gleaned would have to be determined on supposition and analysis.

“...He enjoys astronomy.” J’onn tries to recall the exact memories he had seen, and only ends up reiterating what he has already said. Perhaps highlighting certain moments will make the narrative clearer. “His childhood dwelling had little stickers on his ceiling. They would stay lit even when the room went dark—”

“...Glow in the dark stars,” Superman whispers under his breath. J’onn exhales. This isn’t a familiar point of human culture for him. He’s glad his description is recognizable.

“Yes. He organized them to mimic Earth's constellations. He had smaller, handheld versions of rocket ships. Even if he had not known of extraterrestrial origins, he was drawn to the cosmos.”

Batman coughs. The gesture is a reflex to suppress some welling emotion. J’onn pretends that it works. “Both items are…markers of a young child,” Batman admits. “Indications of a quite young, very human childhood.”

Ah. J’onn can more deeply recognize the sense of tragedy welling in the air. The items are astronomy-based yes, but they equally highlight his age.

“When he donned a human appearance, he matched the coloration of the human family who took him in. As fleeting as their acquaintance might have been, he modeled his human form after them— solidly enough and surely enough that, if he feels strong enough to form a mental self-representation, I can see the outline of it in his memories.” No details, beyond vague hints in the entity's mind of his hair and her eyes and their skin.

“Very loved,” Wonder Woman murmurs.

“Very young, and very loved,” Black Canary reiterates with a sigh. Her notes are a black mess of graphite. “And now he fears adult humans.”

“Yes,” J’onn admits. The cookies are gone. He sets the wrapper to the side. He reaches for the chicken nuggets. “That said, he has an instinctual familiarity with black and with red hair, will likely experience less fear with a female profile as opposed to a male, and responded favorably when offered the chance to interact with an adult who did not mean him harm. The fact that we have largely indestructible adults at our disposal works to our advantage.”

It is very, very clear who exactly fills that description. Wonder Woman sits up straight, laces her fingers together, and very kindly curtails her smugness. If Superman and Batman would like to be jealous of her current position, they may do so at their own discretion.

#Batman and Superman: HEY #Wonder Woman: No HEY. I get to see the baby :)#health and hybrids #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcu crossover #dcxdp #danny phantom #tw medical #tw gore #tw body horror #kinda #cryptid!au #spooky dude has some new friends #faer fic #IIIIIIIINNNNNNNN SPAAAAAAAAACE

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phoenixcatch7 · 8 months

Text

Open up

Based on this wonderful art of @puppetmaster13u for the dollhouse au!

It had been a long day, and was destined to be even longer.

The original plan had been bad enough; the league had a media conference planned for three o'clock, one that involved foreign presence and thus required pristine presentation.

Then, as all perfectly good plans that could have been left alone by the universe did, it was derailed by a villain attack or several. He said several because it seemed almost a dozen separate villains had individually had the bright idea of sabotaging the well publicised event. Though they'd failed, the accidental collaboration had done what each alone could not, and now the league was dragging themselves to base to hurriedly patch up the thankfully minor wounds and try and rush to meet the deadline.

Each league member on the list had a formal version of their usual super suit - flash's main change had been a bowtie before it met almost unanimous disapproval, and on the other end of the effort spectrum was Bruce. Not of his own will - he quite envied Flash's staunch faith in the single black bowtie - but he not only had been raised for the fast and critical world of the upper class, but was currently in a metal plated marionette held together by glue and screws and wires, which meant changing attire was more of a debacle than it would ordinarily be.

He flipped open the toolkit with the best approximation of a sigh the doll body could manage. The chest inflated and deflated, which was in fact a rather worrying sign because it wasn't supposed to be able to do that. He grabbed a screwdriver and a pit of tar glue and approached the mirror. He'd just have to go into the globally broadcast meeting stinking of sulphur... Perhaps he could borrow perfume from one of the girls, cologne combined dreadfully.

The chest cavity opened with little tugging, and he held one side in place as he attacked the bent hinges. An odd feeling, for sure. He took a hammer to the dent, imagining it was the penguin's face and praying Clark didn't decide now was the time to approach him on his self soothing metalworking hobby. He'd been entrusted with the override code for the door and Bruce was now quietly regretting that.

The chest cavity doors creaked back into place, which enabled him to finally pull out the costume change for the evening and dump it on the side.

Now for the leg, having been crushed under a tank penguin had smuggled into Gotham. It now bent the wrong way, and hiding it under his cloak had been a pain, but at least it hadn't come off -

There it went. Batman watched, almost despondent, as it toppled free of his body and crashed to the ground. The unhappy static that raced up his spine at the sight was expected - he'd be paying for the lack of care for the Patriarch Doll in nightmares tonight.

Joy.

He tipped into the nearby stool and kicked the lost limb closer with his remaining foot, squinting. Just a cracked screw and torn spring at the knee, thank goodness. He'd have it fully attached again within the hour.

But he was pretty sure he couldn't bend that far over without his jaw falling off, so face it was.

Hood off, wires unlaced under the chin, hidden screws loosened. The gas mask came off. The velcro on top of his head took good old fashioned yanking, but eventually peeled off with reluctant crackling, revealing the unpainted grey metal beneath.

As expected, his jaw was almost entirely loose, unable to close now without the structure of the mask. The nutcracker mouth in the lower jaw fell to tap against his throat, leaving either side of the actual lower jaw to hang in the air. Experimentally, he opened and closed his mouth, and watched all three parts swing and clink like a robot body horror wind-chime.

This was going to need a finer touch, and so he stripped off his gloves to access the sharp points of his talons - capped while with the league to keep the prick of steel rending claws to a mere suggestion.

He felt bared, now, all his top layer removed and abandoned, the door to his room at his back. He feels the paranoia to double check the lock, reassures himself that even if he'd somehow forgotten in his haste to hide away none of the members were mad enough to try and get in. Outside Superman, of course, but he always knocked.

Still, he hurried through repairs, running diagnostics in the back of his mind as he daubed glue into the cracks and set about restructuring his own jaw. Ears swivelled. Neck rolled. Glider snaps curled.

The jaw pieces were setting nicely when there was a noise at the door, and batman whipped around, cloak flaring behind him. The pliers dropped from suddenly weak fingers.

Captain marvel stood in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the room, face pale as he saw Batman propped up in middle, bare of his many obfuscating layers. Black tar speckled his lap, wires hung free like veins, blank eyes glowed, his jaw gaping, skinless. Glinting claws and spikes in full view, a limb discarded on the floor like garbage. His chest a dark hole, void of organs, of machinery, of anything that could make him run. A decades old terror gripped his heart.

HE SAW!

Both froze. Time stretched interminably.

The captains chest heaved for a scream, and batman was moving before he knew it, grabbing his fallen leg and lunging.

Captain marvel fell with a crack. Batman caught himself on the door. Five seconds before short term memory entered long term, had he reacted in time?

Hm.

He considered the body of the champion of magic laid in front of him, idly rebalancing the eternal tally graph of potential energies the dolls might run on in the back of his head and as always coming up none the wiser. This was a very inconvenient place for a body. Perhaps he could nudge marvel into the hallway to wake up. He glanced up and down the empty corridor, staying out of view of the camera.

Maybe he had overreacted slightly.

Bonus:

Billy and Green Lantern sat in the monitor room, ostensibly on duty but really checking out the watchtower camera feeds of the day before. Lantern was pointing at the screen.

"Here," he said, with a glee Billy didn't honestly appreciate. "Look at that. You go down like a sack of bricks and then -" he clicked forward two frames, "- this silver hand thing appears on the door frame. Look at that, that's a proper horror movie hand curl. The claws! Just missing the glint of a blood covered axe appearing from the shadows."

Billy shuddered, but couldn't help moving closer.

"What do you think it was? Can't have been batman, right?"

"You were there, you tell me." Lantern patted him on the shoulder before he could retort. "I mean, doesn't look much like him. Doesn't really have claws and his are black anyway. Pretty sure his gloves are sewn into his skin at this point."

"I didn't need that mental image," Billy said, because he really didn't.

"Could be another Robin variant? Like that black bat thing?"

"Dunno. I mean, unlikely. Maybe it was batman. Maybe he can shapeshift a little."

"We've had that on the list of possible powers for ages, still nothing firm one way or the other."

"It probably is batman -"

"But the claws -"

They trailed off.

"We'll just add it to the list. I'll save the file, hang on. We can talk about it at the do next week - you're coming right?"

"Yeah, but I've got, uh... A diplomacy thing with the yetis at nine, so I'll have to bail then."

"You always have the weirdest personal missions. Hey, maybe you can ask them about batman, pffft. Maybe he's one of them."

#Not pictured: batman in Victorian-esque drip complete with a black full face phantom of the opera mask in a brightly lit room.#Bundled up in as much cloak is polite and just a dark splotch on camera between a very bright superman and wonder woman #Alfred sarcastically pretends to shed a tear of pride #Also not pictured: batman spending five minutes straight making sure his doors locked while on one leg #long post #batman #dc comics #bruce wayne #cryptid batman #Possessed doll au #Remind me to do a Halloween one because the bats would 100% do a scare competition with the poor goons as targets #Bonus points if you freak out a rouge. It gets harder every year.#Pretty happy with how this turned out but my first plan was to have it the start of the Reveal™. The vibes were right.#Maybe once I've got more done for this au

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