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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months

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hello hello! After a few posts of this premise I just had to say something and because you just make them come to life I just had to ask :) anyway, Danny let’s say in seriously injured by the giw or even his parents but he is reverting to his core and he goes to Clockwork to help since he’s the one he’s the most closest ghost to and kinda his guardian ghost, Clockwork sees that he himself will not be able to help forever and finds a different solution. He takes Danny’s core and makes a magic safe guard and puts his core inside in the guise of a doll like this one:

But with Danny’s coloration! He sends Danny to Gotham and ends up being picked up by Robin!Jason who thinks he’s cute and gets attached, Danny is weak but trying to gather ectoplasm but sends a sense of gratefulness to Jason who feels it but is a bit confused but happy he saved a doll. He brings it with him everywhere and takes it with him everywhere but when Jason dies and buried Danny is sat at his grave and he wakes up a little earlier with Danny and brings with him. He gets a strange attachment and feeling of safety with the doll and then is able to talk to it and Danny and him become closer and when he eventually reunites with everyone and things smooth over he feels it’s fine to bring Danny the doll to the mansion and the others realize that Jason has a haunted fucking doll and with the already thin trust they can’t do hair when Danny messes with them with moving their stuff, appearing out of nowhere, and being all around creepy but he helps Alfred so Jason has no issues and finds it funny. There are probably times where they try to dispose of it anyways but comes back completely fine and they become even warier but Danny is just having the time of his life while eating his ectoplasm while helping them with cases and finding things and such and Alfred even defends him when they try to talk Jason around about the creepy doll and is like “Did you stay at my grave 24/7 in all weather? That’s what I thought.” When Tim tries to get evidence he takes a picture of the doll all he sees is a boy around the age Jason died with pale soft blue eyes staring back with a soft smile that even if it wasn’t really creepy he still felt a chill down his spine

First of all, the photo almost gave me a heart attack. Haunted dolls terrify me (ironically, I fear ghosts.) But honestly, I love the prompt, so here you go!

Jason moves back into the manor- sort of. He's still in the middle of his hostile takeover of Crime Alley, but things are a little less stressful between the family. Maybe it was because Jason's Pit Madness was slowly disappearing, thanks to his friend Danny.

Danny was a great listener and always willing to help Jason sort through his feelings and thoughts. He was the reason that Jason chose to try to talk things out with Bruce before going through his insane idea of attacking Tim at the Titian Tower.

Which, you know, Tim was grateful he didn't actually go through with it after finding the plans in some of Jason's stuff while helping him move. The fact he wanted to wear his old Robin outfit- which would not fit on his body now- would have been beyond traumatizing enough, thank you very much.

"I know." Jason laughed as the rest of the family crowded around the plans. Even Damian seemed a bit disturbed by what was written. "Danny made me realize I didn't have the skinny legs to pull off the outfit."

Tim has never met Danny, but he has heard about him. Jason spoke about him when he followed Bruce and Jason around with his camera, which was enough for him to know Danny was likely a childhood friend.

Of course, Danny went by the code "Doll" in those days. Personally, Tim had always assumed that Jason and Danny shared a relationship that went beyond friends.

It had been another reason that Jason was his favorite Robin. If Robin could like boys, then Tim could too, and the knowledge that one of his literal heroes was like him helped Tim accept himself faster.

He never brought it up, even as Jason slowly gained control over Crime Alley as a Crime Lord- one that didn't kill because it would make Danny sad, which was another point in his secret boyfriend checkbox list.

Everything was fine- until Bruce found out about Danny.

"Jason, I thought you outgrew Danny," Bruce uttered hesitantly as Jason explained how Danny had fallen over himself when describing his Titain Tower plan.

Jason's eyes flashed green at once, and everyone in the cave grew tense.

"I will never outgrow Danny!" The second oldest barked, his neck muscles straining.

Now Tim knew that Danny was a secret, so he never brought him up despite the burning need to ask every question under the sun about him. Jason wasn't out to the rest of the family- detectives or not- that was up to Jason to decide when they would know.

He just always assumed Bruce knew since, you know, his son called his best friend Doll back when he was fourteen and running around in green spandex.

How could he not know? Did he want Jason to change his cape out for a rainbow and sing musicals at the top of his lungs on Wayne Tower?

Actually.....Jason did sing in musicals at his drama club. Honestly, Bruce was in denial.

Jason may not be out, but Tim wouldn't let Bruce bully him about his lover!

"Jason can have whatever friends he wants! And feel whatever he feels about them!" Tim snares, and that causes Dick, Damian, and Steph to bristle. They stand beside a huffing Jason, slowly coming down from his rage at the sight of support.

Cass and Alfred watch from the Batcomputer, a tension around their eyes the only sign that they, too. Bruce intelligently raises his hands in a placating manner.

"I did not mean anything wrong by that, Jason. I'm just surprised Danny still has such a strong hold on you." Bruce starts, his eyes never leaving his boy's face, even with all his other children flocking around him. "I thought Danny was lost when you died."

There is a long pause where Tim considers the words. It's a fair assumption. After all, Danny thought Jason had died and been buried. Why would he wait around after that?

Even the Bats still didn't know what caused Jason to come back. How would a civilian possibly begin to consider his boyfriend returning from the grave- or Tim assumes to be a civilian since Danny had never joined them on the field? He had to be in the know for Jason to tell him the plans comfortably.

"He waited every day, twenty-four seven at my grave," Jason tells Bruce, puffing up his chest. "He was with me when I was in a coma and when I was practically brain-dead on the streets. Hell, he was even there when the League of Assiasns brainwashed me!"

Damian jerks in surprise. He always gets taken aback by how casually Jason admits being part of the organization of his upbringing, no matter how briefly. Not even Bruce does that. "I....was unaware Daniel had been with you. I never saw him."

"Talia allowed me to have him with me just as long as I kept him tied up in my closet so he wouldn't be spotted."

Everyone but Alfred and Bruce step back, staring in horror at Jason. Tim can figure out by their reactions alone that everyone in the Bats had come to the same conclusion as he did about Danny being Jason's lover then.

After all, it's hard to hide that kind of thing from the family of detectives.

How could I have missed this? Tim thinks in dismay. Quickly, his brain runs through every time Jason has so much as hinted at Danny, trying to spot the signs that apparently his brother was abusive and honestly psychotic towards his boyfriend.

"Jason," Dick began in the same casual tone he usually used on hostile witnesses. "Where is Danny now?"

" Upstairs in my closet. He kept trying to escape, so I had to switch to chains." The responses are as easy as they are casual. Tim's stomach drops.

Quickly, he makes eye contact with Steph, who very quickly lowers her chin at him, and then his eyes flicker to the others. Damian's hands have curled, while Dick moves casually to stand behind Jason, which will make it easier to restrain him.

How long had Danny been up there? How many days and nights did he spend held against his will in the one place that should have been the safest of Gotham?

They all tense their muscles, ready to strike-

"Danny is a doll," Bruce suddenly speaks up, his eyes flickering to all of the gathered children with a wild, alarmed look. Ah, he caught on to the fact they were about to take Jason down. "A doll that Jason found in Crime Alley. Made of porcelain and fabric. Not a person."

The Bats are still eyeing their father with sharp, trained eyes, but Alfred's agreeing nod has them relaxing. Oh, thank the gods!

"Of course, Danny isn't a person," Jason replies mystified. He is unaware of how close he came to being jumped. As it were, the Bats stepped away from him as he looked around, confused. "Why would I have a person chained up in my closet?"

Bruce gets a strange, sad smile on his face. "Yes, Chum, why would you."

Tim isn't following. "If Danny is a toy-"

"A doll." Jason cuts in with a hard edge to his voice.

"Right, sorry, if Danny is a doll, why must you chain him up?"

Jason smiles. "Cause Danny runs the first chance he gets."

What?

"Danny is a haunted doll," Bruce starts, only to have Jason huff.

"No, he isn't! Danny is not haunted; he's just curious." Jason rolls his eyes. "Yeah, he never stays still, and okay, sometimes things disappear around the house, but that doesn't necessarily mean a haunting!"

"Master Jason, might I remind you that while you and Mister Danny were first living here, I caught the vacuum moving by itself?" Alfred calls. "I also remember that Mister Danny's head turned to me and followed my movement as I dusted."

"He just wanted to help you clean," Jason defends in a rather childish manner that Tim never thought he would see from someone his age. Maybe that's why Bruce was worried Danny was still around. "He's not a ghost."

"Chum, I hear laughter from your room even when you are not home." Bruce starts. "The laughing started the day you brought Danny home."

"He can tell great jokes!"

"Wait, tells jokes? Jason, does Danny talk to you? " Steph questioned, looking a tiny bit spooked. Oh yeah, she hates ghosts. Tim forgot her fear of them after living so close to the Gotham cemetery and all the nasty ghost stories surrounding it.

Jason blinks down at her, likely forgetting they were present, before considering the question. He moves his hand in a so-and-son motion. "He tries, but it sounds like fast past whispers. I have to strain to hear him."

"Jason," Dick says with an easy-going smile that belies the worry in his eyes. "That's haunting one-oh-one. You're haunted."

"No, a haunting implies that Danny is dead, which he is not. Danny is just resting until his body can reform. I think he's an alien." Jason taps his chin. "He told me before that his species are the conscious manifestation of ectoplasm but that their souls are within a small core, they can retreat to when badly injured. Danny was really hurt, so he's taking a while to reform."

Bruce's strained smile becomes tighter. "We can have Zatanna or Consitine take a look at him. They might-"

"I'll blow your fucking head off if you try it, old man" Jason's eyes were a bright green, an animistic sneer at his lips, and bloodlust was thick in the air. The abrupt change makes Tim wonder if he has passed out and missed the trigger.

Bruce sighs. "Of course, Jason. Why don't you show everyone, Danny? I think it's time they meet him."

Jason beams, shooting up the stairs to go get his doll. Everyone watches him go, and until they are sure he can not hear them, they burst into conversation.

"Jason is definitely haunted!" Dick despairs, throwing himself dramatically on a nearby chair. "We need to do something! Get it away from him."

"We will do no such thing," Alfred huffs. "Mister Danny is a fine young ghost who helps Master Jason. It would be unwise to separate them."

"As much as I hate to admit it, even Dinah claims that the two are good for each other." Bruce says, likely unhappy that Black Canary used her therapy license against him, "Apparently, Danny is Jason's support doll."

Before anyone can say anything else, Jason races down the stairs with a broad smile. In his hands is a beautiful porcelain doll with black fabric hair, a fine little king suit made from expensive material, and a pretty painted face.

Its green glass eyes- colored to seem almost watery- seemed to stare into everyone's soul as Jason held him up for the room to see. Danny had no facial expression- not even a smile, just a soft, relaxed neural set of features that were popular in the era he was likely made in, but the eyes held emotions.

There was definitely something intelligent and aware in them.

Tim shuddered.

"Oh, Tim, can you take our picture? It's Danny's first time in the cave, and I want to commemorate the date!" Jason suddenly asks, rocking on his heels like he used to do as Robin. Tim wonders if Danny was doing that to him- reverting him to a child-like mind.

If so, was that a good thing? Should he let it keep happening?

"Sure, Jason," He says, instead picking up his camera that he had taken on patrol. He aims his lends, trying to find the perfect lighting as his older brother quickly holds the doll up in his arms, allowing it' head to be at the same level as his face.

Tim snaps the picture, but when he looks at the screen, a shiver runs down his spine, and it takes all his training not to scream.

Jason's smirk is not out of place for his hulky form. He takes up most of the frame, but where Danny the doll is, there is a faint outline of another person. A teenager, maybe a year younger than Jason, with pretty features, a copy of the beauty in Jason's arms, but much more human, yet not human, is smiling at the camera.

He's about a head shorter than Jason, but even with the softness of his smile, Tim has never been more creeped out in his life.

Jason is definitely haunted.

"How did it come out?" Jason asks as Danny's doll head turns to look at Damian. The younger boy imminently moved back, hiding behind Bruce. The doll's eyes followed him, almost amused by the boy's actions.

"G-good." Tim stammers. Steph is already racing for the safety of Bruce's cape, joining Damian. "Danny is beautiful."

Jason pauses, tilting his head as if hearing something, eyes flickering down to his right where the teenager ghost stood for the picture, and then grins.

"Of course he means it." Jason's ears turn pink as he admits, "I also think you're the most gorgeous person I've ever met."

Okay, Jason is definitely being haunted by someone he might have a crush on. That's....something Bruce has to deal with because Tim is the younger brother, not the dad, and thank god for that.

He might be wrong, but he gets the sense that the doll is blushing even though nothing changes.

It's not my circus and will never be my monkies. Tim thinks racing to Bruce's cape is a good idea as well. He is scared to be out here in the open like Dick and Cass.

Those two might be okay with being haunted, but Tim isn't. Just in case, he'll have to steer clear of the manor for a few days.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Jason's Doll #Dead on Main #Yes Danny is laughing that the big bad bats are scared of him #Jason saw Danny's real form in his dreams #Ghost can reach you there #Bruce is like #“Son please let me buy you a toy that's not ghost-infected. Come on you're eighteen now”#Cass and Dick think it's a sweet love story #Tim's pov

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 8 days

Text

A DC X DP IDEA #29

The Heir

Imagine dis…

You know what, it’s been a while since I added the infamous Al Ghuls to my stories.

…

The Lazarus Pit, a sacred lake in the League of Assassins' fortress, was said to provide immortality and bring back life. However, its underlying nature was considerably more sinister than its therapeutic properties indicated. Ra's al Ghul, the centuries-old leader, stood before the pit, his ancient and knowledgeable gaze fixed on the pool's depths. He sought the ideal successor to take his mantle and lead the League into a new age of domination.

Ra's al Ghul had governed the League for generations, utilizing its vicious assassins to further his goals. As his death approached, he realized he needed to safeguard the League's future for it to survive. As the Lazarus Pit continued to bubble and churn, Ra's al Ghul considered the gravity of his decision. The selected heir would need strength, talent, wit, and ruthlessness to traverse the League's treacherous internal politics.

Ra's al Ghul's ravenous thirst for power ruined his yearning for the ideal heir, Talia's son Damian. Despite knowing Damian had the detective’s DNA, Ra was concerned that his influence would corrupt his heart and undermine his ruthlessness as leader of the League of Assassins, just as Damian's compassion and sense of justice would jeopardize his legacy.

Ra's al Ghul stood in front of the Lazarus Pit, its menacing glow casting eerie shadows throughout the enormous chamber. Though he was not religious, he couldn't help but feel fascinated by the magical power hidden within. He had achieved immortality here, at the very founding of the League of Assassins, and he was now looking for something even more valuable: a worthy heir to carry on his legacy.

Ra's offered a secret prayer to the Lazarus Pit, pleading for an heir who would transcend all others. And, as if in answer to his intense desire, the pit erupted in a dazzling burst of light, temporarily stunning Ra's and his collected assassins.

When the light faded, they saw a sight that struck them with awe and wonder: a newborn floating serenely amid the Lazarus Pit's shimmering waters, its eyes gleaming with an otherworldly green light. Ra's felt a rush of elation and insane glee pouring through his veins. He saw in this infant the embodiment of his deepest desires, the ideal vessel to carry on his legacy of conquest and immortality.

Ra's al Ghul approached the newborn with almost fanatical reverence, reaching out to hold it in his arms. He felt a force emanating from the child, a potential so huge and untapped that it sent chills down his spine. Here was his heir, the one who would take the League of Assassins to even higher levels of power and dominion.

As his supporters watched in wonder, Ra's al Ghul pronounced the newborn to be his chosen heir, the League's future leader. And in that moment, basking in the light of the Lazarus Pit, he realized that his legacy would last for centuries.

…

Talia stood in the shadows of the League's fortress, her heart full of mixed emotions. She had previously thought her son, Damian, would inherit her father's legacy, but the appearance of Daniel Daan Al Ghul dashed those expectations. The resentment of being passed over for a new male heir wounded her, reflecting the patriarchal norms that had formed her existence.

Nonetheless, as she watched Daniel develop under her care, she couldn't deny the wisdom and power emanating from him. His eerie green eyes appeared to look right through her, penetrating her soul with their ferocity. Despite her initial disdain, she found herself captivated by the youngster, seeing in his brilliance that much above her desires.

When Daniel was just five years old, he shocked her by entrusting her and Slade Wilson with separate sections of the League to lead. It was a gesture of trust and empowerment that left her dumbfounded, as she realized Daniel saw potential in her beyond her role as caretaker or assassin and guardian.

In epochs gone by, when the female hand grasped the scepter of might, she ascended to the echelons of immortality. Why am I precluded from such transcendence with you? I perceive the dormant titan within you, hence I proffer my dominion, both to you and to its awakening, for in you resides the essence of dominion.

He told her when she asked why. At that moment, she realized the extent of Daniel's strength and compassion, and she promised to serve him faithfully.

Talia's allegiance switched dramatically when Daniel personally intervened to save Jason Todd, her beloved’s son, from the lunacy of the Lazarus Pit.

Intervening just as her father, Ra Al Ghul, was about to order Jason Todd's execution because he was no use to him or the league, Daniel silently appeared beside her father and slowly walked down from the throne to the floor where Jason Todd was kneeling, still brain dead, as it was still a mystery to all how he was revived as he dug himself out of his grave.

Guard the tender soul, mend his wounds, for he is but a fledgling, entrusted to my care for solace and salvation.

He proclaimed to her father, who stared at Daniel, perplexed as to why Daniel wanted to keep this teenager, but agreed to utilize the pits for his purposes. When Jaosn emerged, he was already deep in the pit madness; when he raced towards Daniel, all assassins had created a wall around the heir, but Daniel told them to step aside; with a single touch, the madness left Todd and he went out.

Talia took on her job as Daniel's right hand from that day forward, leading him with her knowledge and cunning. Though her heart grieved for Damian, she knew Daniel was the rightful heir, destined to lead the League to greatness. And when she stared into his hypnotic green eyes, she saw not just a leader, but a judge and a god on the rise.

…

Slade Wilson, often known as Deathstroke, had always been a formidable force in the League of Assassins. His skills were unparalleled, and his reputation was legendary. However, as the years went by, a seed of ambition germinated within him, fuelled by a desire to seize League leadership for himself.

The discovery of Daniel Daan Al Ghul's emergence as a new heir fueled Slade's internal strife. On the one hand, he wished to stage a coup, seize authority, and establish himself as the legitimate leader. On the other side, he was captivated to the mysterious power emanating from Daniel, the heir born of the Lazarus Pits.

As Slade trained Daniel and Damian, he couldn't help but be amazed by Daniel's extraordinary abilities. The youngster was a genius in every way, with an intellect and prowess unparalleled by anybody else. And when Daniel, with his penetrating green eyes that appeared to capture the essence of the Lazarus Pits, recognized Slade's worth and appointed him to a position of responsibility within the League, Slade felt a weird mix of awe and reverence.

Untouched by the forge of opportunity, you, a blade honed in both physique and intellect, lay dormant amidst neglect, gathering the patina of obscurity. Yet, now, I bestow upon you the helm of leadership, for only you possess the whetstone to sharpen others to their zenith

Daniel informed him after he sought for an audience.

In that instant, Slade realized his fate was connected with Daniel's. He pledged his unwavering service, promising to serve his new lord until his soul was shattered. Slade saw Daniel as more than just a leader but as a being with incredible power and potential. And as he peered into Daniel's fascinating green eyes, he knew he'd follow him into the depths of hell, for even death couldn't break the link between master and servant.

…

Damian Wayne, raised under the League of Assassins, had always felt he was meant to carry on his grandfather's heritage. But when Daniel emerged from the Lazarus Pits, enveloped in their miraculous waters, Damian's fate changed.

As they grew, Damian was awarded the duty of Daniel's guardian, a position of great distinction in the League. He fully committed to this role, practicing tirelessly to prove himself worthy of defending the League's successor.

Damian was upset when Daniel unexpectedly dismissed him from the League at the age of 10. He couldn't understand why his lord would dismiss him so abruptly. Damian confronted Daniel, desperate for answers about his dismissal.

Youthful spirit, the horizon stretches before you, beckoning freedom's call. Yet, wanderer, when the winds of destiny bring you home, return to me. I relinquish the chains of selfish desire, for I discern your potential for greatness. Embrace the world, then return to my side, where together, we shall forge greatness anew.

Daniel then disclosed his genuine goals, which were to drive Damian to greatness and help him reach his full potential outside of the League. Though initially astonished and offended, Damian realized the underlying message in Daniel's actions and decided to earn his master's trust.

Going to his father's side, Damian sought out Robin's mantle, battling Tim Drake for the title. In doing so, he aimed not only to recover his place by Daniel's side but also to establish himself as a suitable successor to his grandfather's legacy, ready to embark on the path of greatness that Daniel had envisioned for him.

…

Daniel, a young heir to Ra's al Ghul, led the League of Assassins with unrivaled potential and strength. His wisdom and charisma won the respect and allegiance of powerful individuals such as Lady Shiva, Cheshire, and David Cain. Ra's al Ghul trusted Daniel to protect his legacy, knowing that the League would continue to develop and prosper under his leadership, assuring its domination for future generations.

…

Daniel meanwhile at the back of his mind kept screaming as he never thought that it would get him far.

He was just walking around Amity when his ghost senses pinged something he could not see, one moment he was in his teen self and then he was a baby surrounded by ectoplasm and being carried by someone with major fruitloop vibes. He tried he tried, he tried to become a cryptid like Clockwork since it always makes him grit his teeth at the vague sentences that came out of him, heck even Pandora and Frostbite look at Clockwork and thought of strangling the ghost for his cryptic answers, he is pretty sure he does that for shit and giggles, but it made him look like mature and wise, someone who has infinite wisdom.

Danny thought of laying down low when it came to training but with the combined efforts in training with his mom and the various ghost mentors and fighters in the Infinite realms, he became a formidable fighter before he even reached his double digits. As years passed by each time he tried to deflect or even pass on his so-called political power to others was returned with undying loyalty that he didn't need.

He just hopes that the Bat Furry brigade can help him out.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: As you can see, I posted a bit early, I am busy during May so this is another early post. bye-bye!

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

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redflagshipwriter · 3 months

Text

Young lovers are shot by Cupid (he is now wanted for questioning)

“Suspicious?” Todd paused mid-pull on his smoothie. He lifted his face, surveyed the mall, and frowned slightly. “Who?”

Damian tried to physically point Todd's face at the incredibly suspicious man lugging an unconcealed weapon in public. “How did you fail to see him?” Damian demanded. The man was very nearly flouting public decency laws and wearing extremely unseasonable sandals.

“Whoa, squirt.” Todd tried to ruffle his hair. “What are you talking about?”

“Cease!” Damian dodged with a scowl. “How could you fail to notice such a person? Open your eyes and look!”

Todd sighed. “Who are you talking about?”

Damian pointed.

Todd's eyes glanced over the man without any recognition.

But the man looked over to make eye contact. His eyes widened. He looked delighted.

“Brat?”

Damian watched with narrowed eyes as the strange man gave him a mischievous smile, pressed a finger to his lips, and gestured for secrecy. Then he took the bow and arrow off his back, pointed in the crowd, and fired in one smooth motion.

The arrow hit a woman in the back, in the center of her chest. It flashed out of sight in the same instant.

Damian shouted and stood straight up. Food flew as he jarred the table. Heads turned to look at him.

The woman was one of them.

He stood, processing. There was no blood on her body at all. She was unwounded. He had watched the suspect fire an arrow in public into a woman's heart and she was unharmed.

When he did nothing, people turned back to their food. He stared in disbelief. The woman who had been hit leaned into her friend and said something close to their ear.

No one looked at the archer. The arrow- the arrow that he had fired was back in his hand. How?

He nodded at Damian and then he disappeared.

Damian blinked.

Clearly, this villain was supernatural or magical. What had been his purpose? Damian would have to track that woman down and see if anything unusual happened to her. As he watched, she laced her fingers together with her friend and walked away, laughing. His lips curled. Foolish. She had no concept of the danger she was in!

“The hell is up with you?” Todd demanded, sounding unnerved. “Hey!” He tapped the table rapidly with a hand.

Reluctantly, Damian sat. His brain was churning.

“Are you-”

“I'm fine,” Damian cut Todd off. He crossed his arms, as if to protect his own heart. “I was…. Mistaken.”

Todd leaned back. “If you say so,” he said, dubious.

He was missing something. He had to do research. As soon as Todd released him from the purgatory of shopping for a birthday present for Father, he went to the batcave and started researching villains who used a bow and arrow.

Unsatisfactory. He widened his search. Hits were few and easily discarded. “It was not Oliver Queen,” he muttered to the monitor with a sneer. It kept pinging helpfully that Queen was the most famous archer at the moment. “The man I saw escaped from a different off-Broadway musical than Queen.”

He needed to change his approach. He attempted to access the Mall's security footage.

…It was on a closed connection. Damian felt his lips thin.

Very well. Robin would go retrieve the footage, locate the victim, and see if the attacker appeared on camera.

#dead serious #dp x dc #red young lovers #damian wayne #danny phantom #red valentine 2024

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lolottes · 5 months

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returning from patrol

Damian: I'm tired of being the youngest

Batmit appearing: I can solve the problem!

Damian who has never yet met Batmite: takes out his sword

Batmant, who has already met Batmite TOO MUCH: sigh

Batmite: makes a mystery box from zatana's magic show appear, he respects the color code, he makes jokes like Dick, he has a backstory and the scars to prove it like Jason, he has -

Batman: Batmite short cut

Batmite: if you take it like that tadaaaam

the box disappears in a pouf of smoke and a cough is heard

Danny: what???

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #batmite #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman #danny fenton #prompt #my prompts #my

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aprocessionofthoughts · 6 months

Text

Sleepy Summons

whumptober23 day 29- scented candle fandom- dp x dc TW- none summary- Danny just wants to go to sleep

ao3 masterlist

Dick was kind of embarrassed. But at least everyone would be embarrassed with him. If they made it out alive.

Look, they had thought it was a simple cult, but apparently there was at least a little magic at play, because they had managed to capture not only Dick, but also Jason, Tim, and Damian.

Batman was supposed to be on his way, but he had been out of town so it might take him a while. Dick just hoped these cultists took their time with the summoning.

The cultists began to gather around the summon circle which had been lined with candles.

Well, it looked like they wouldn't be that lucky today.

The chanting started and the candles glowed brighter as the chal lines glowed green. Then suddenly a figure appeared in the center of the circle.

Dick stared for a second, unsure if he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing.

There was a boy, maybe between Damian and Tim’s age standing in the center of the circle.They had black hair and blue eyes, and were holding a toothbrush and toothpaste.

The boy blinked at the cultists around him and looked over at the tied up bats.

“Ummm….” The boy said.

Some of the cultists shifted and started muttering among themselves.

Then the boy sniffed the air. “Are those pumpkin spice scented candles?”

“They had a sale.” one of the cultists said.

“Shut up, Jerry.” the potential leader said.

“No, no. I like it.” said the boy. “But now I'm hungry for pumpkin pie.”

“Me too.”

“Shut up, Jim. We’re not making conversation with the foul demon.”

“Wos, okay. I didn't think I smelled that bad.”

“Shut up.” snarled the lead cultist.

The boy held his hands up, accidentally squeezing the toothpaste. He stared at his now toothpaste covered hand. “Look what you made me do.”

“It doesn’t matter.” the leader gritted his teeth. “I summoned you–”

“Actually, it wasn’t just you that summoned me.”

Dick could see the leader trembling with suppressed rage.

“As the leader of this group, I command you to obey my orders.”

“But, like, dit you get to be the leader through a cote or did you just appoint yourself.” the boy said, ignoring him.

“He kind of just appointed himself.” said one of the other cultists.

“Dud, that sucks. Are you guys really willing to put up with this?”

“Shut up!” the leader screeched.

“No, he’s right. I want to vote for our leader. What do you guys think?”

Several of the other cultists nodded.

“I vote for you, Freddie. All in favor?”

“Aye.” said everyone but the leader who was spluttering with anger.

“You can’t do that! I’m the leader! I gave you all the leader !”

“But we gathered all the ingredients and drew the circle!”

The boy spoke up again. “What do you guys even get out of this?”

There was silence for a moment.

“You know, I actually don’t really know. What about you Jerry?”

“No. What about you Linda?”

“I just thought we were going to get drunk or something.”

“Demon, I command you to be silent!” the leader said, looking like he’d finally had enough.

The boy glared at him. “First of all, I’m not a demon. Second of all, I don’t feel like being quiet. And third of all, I was finally going to get to sleep on time when you guys summoned me. So, I’m sure you’ll all understand that I'm a bit peeved. And lastly,” the boy stepped out of the summoning circle and the cultists scrambled back. “You were fools for thinking that you could control creatures from the other side of the veil. Most of them would kill you, but since I already showered and don’t feel like washing blood off of myself tonight, I’ll just leave you for the bats.”

The boy's eyes began to glow a bright blue and his hair moved in a nonexistent wind. Frost began to sweep from under his feet toward the cultists. Ice climbed up their legs and crept up until it completely covered them.

Then the boy turned toward them.

Dick swallowed. He hated the occult. He just hoped that whoever this was would leave them alone. He had said he’d leave the cultists for the bats, but still, you could never be certain with the occult. This being was probably not even human.

The boy stepped forward and Dick tensed as he reached out and touched Tim on the shoulder. The ropes holding him fell to the ground, and the boy repeated the process with all of them.

When Dick had removed the tape that covered his mouth he asked, “Who are you?”

“Look,” the boy had rolled his eyes, “I’m tired and I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you right now. If you want, you can just ask your sad trenchcoat man about the Infinite Realms, and also, tell him to stop selling his soul. It causes a lot of paperwork.”

With that, the boy disappeared.

------------------

Damnny groaned as he appeared back in his bathroom. He abandoned his toothbrush and toothpaste and rinsed off his hand, before heading to his room and collapsing on his bed.

He’d deal with all the problems that summoning caused tomorrow. Or next week. As long as Clockwork didn’t say anything, he could take his time.

#whumptober2023 #whumptober #no.29 #scented candles #Danny fenton #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cults #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc fanfic #summoning

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rada-the-dragon-melon · 25 days

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Batfam AU but everything goes wrong, Dick gets turned into a Talon, Jason dies gets resurrected full of pit rage that won't lessen, Tim gets joker juniored, Damians body gets stolen by Ras as a meat puppet, Steph is forced into being her dads villain sidekick, Cass stays with David Cain and is an Assasin, Barbara gets shot by Joker is paralyzed and gives being a vigilante up, Duke gets hit by Jokervenom when his parents get hit.

Now imagine Bruce all alone in Gotham when **because Magic Dimensional travel** suddenly the Batfam appears and he gets to see a family, the Family that could have been His if things have been different, its not perfect of course not but so much better than what he has, the pain, The Pain.

#bruce wayne #batfamily #dc comics #batman #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #dick grayson #stephenie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon

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evasive-anon · 4 months

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I'M DONE WITH THE LIES AND DECEIT JASON TODD DOESN'T HAVE RED HAIR

Or at least he doesn't have red hair in current canon or most of the continuity and y'all should get with it.

We've all seen it, there's a post about Jason and someone comments on the post and brings up how when Jason first appeared as robin he had red hair and he had to dye it black to be robin.

This is not true in current canon and only had a brief window of existence in the comics so lets dig into the different hair colors we've seen on Jason, they are as follows:

Blonde (Pre-Crisis, before 1985)

Black (post 1985, like 23-24 years of Post Crisis?? a long time)

Red (~2 years of Post Crisis 2009-2011)

Black (New 52, 2011-2016)

Black (Rebirth, 2016 onward, current canon)

Dropping detailed receipts below and god some of these panels are wacky:

Pre-Crisis/ Golden Age - BLONDE HAIR

First appearance of Jason Todd was a little blonde circus boy like a Great Value recolored version of Dick Grayson and if I have to live with that knowledge then we all do.

A lot of people claim this version of Jason also had red hair and for anyone who wants to say this blatantly yellow hair isn’t blonde compare it to Vicki Vale’s actual red hair which is orange:

Vicki Vale (orange)

Jason Todd (its fucking yellow)

The assertion that Jason dyed his hair to be robin are not entirely false in this version, in Batman (1940) #366 Jay did dye his hair black so he could pass as Dick cause he wasn't officially robin yet but wanted to help Batman. Dying his hair made him look so much like Dick it actually did trick Batman and the Joker which is weird since Jason's like a child and Dick is like legally an adult at point but whatever. Either way it wasn’t Batman making him dye it, in fact Bruce was unhappy about it.

Blonde Jason is obviously no longer canon and hasn't been since.

Post Crisis/ Batman New Adventures - BLACK HAIR

Jason was first shown with black hair when he stole a tire off the Batmobile. This iteration of Jason's introduction is the one we all know today and is considered by most to be Jason's *real* debut.

This comic run is no longer canon but is often used as the backbone for new canon content.

Post Crisis 2009 to 2011 - RED HAIR

OK, here is where all the red hair lore comes in. During Dick's Batman run with Damian as Robin the writer (fuck you, Grant Morrison) decided to introduce this shit:

This made not only made no fucking sense in Post-Crisis continuity, but also Jason look stupid as fuck.

For some reason people have snatched this panel and held on to it with all their might. Which like - I mean, the idea of Bruce making a kid dye their hair to be robin is super fucking funny but like, c'mon dude. There are so many real reasons to judge Bruce already lmao.

Jason kept having red hair until the New 52. Its no longer canon.

New 52 - BLACK HAIR

Giving you guys all caste Jay for this shot cause I still simp for that storyline, he deserves the magic fire swords fr.

He's back to black hair and we're almost to current canon.

DC Rebirth (current canon) - BLACK HAIR

We made it to current canon and his hair is still natural black bby. LETS GO.

#jason todd has black hair #jason todd #dc robin #dc comics #robin ii #jason todd lore drop #batman #comic panels #rants #original post #dc #robin dc #long post #ENDING THE GINGER ALLEGATIONS FR

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flamingpudding · 7 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 9 - "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Red Hood's swearing, mention of character death

Danny blinked a couple of times before he realized what exactly happened. He had been with Alfred making some cookies for the rest of the family after Oracle had reported they would all come back uninjured. And Danny had decided to help Alfred in hopes to get back on Damian's good side. The boy had been pretty short and huffy with him ever since Danny had admitted that he didn't plan on getting reinstated as hero.

The rest of the family had taken it sort or well, sure there were the occasional side comments in hopes to maybe convince him to come on patrol with one of them every now and then but otherwise his decision was greatly accepted. Alfred had appeared especially happy when Danny had announced that after having lived with the Waynes for little more than a year now.

Of course Phantom would still come out to help if his ghostly rogues decided to show up and pester his new family or Lady Gotham needed help with something or when Lazarus Pits were involved. But this certainly did not include a situation like that.

Looking down at his gloved hands, Danny breathed out a sigh of relief, noting that he had gotten summoned as Phantom at least. Pretransfomred. Last time he got summoned and had appeared shortly as plain old Danny before changing into Phantom, Tim, as Red Robin of course, had gaslighted the cultists into believing they hallucinated seeing Daniel 'Danny' Fenton-Wayne for a brief moment. The press still had a field day with the nonsense the arrested cultist spouted.

At least now they wouldn't have to deal with another media drama that could result in Vlad trying to fight Bruce for custody again. Still, Danny frowned, they had summoned him right out of a late night baking session with Alfred and knowing his family the way he does now it was only a matter of time before they all stormed this place or at least some of them.

Bruce had put a tracker on him specifically for this kind of situation, aside from the fact that he was also still pestering the Justice League Dark to find a way to stop it from happening in the first place.

"You do realize that you are in deep shit right?" The occult leader looked at Danny for only a short moment before continuing his spiel about how with the power of the summoned they would lead the world back to the balance it's supposed to have and bla bla bla. Being the Ancient of Balance Danny never thought he would even get summoned, aren't cultists in books more interested in evil demons, masters of chaos, Cthulhu and so on?

Knocking with his fist against the barrier lightly, the halfa noted that he would probably be stuck in place until his family showed up to disturb the chalk writing on the floor. For a moment he wondered if he should attempt to break out but then remembered the lecture Bruce had made him sit through the first time he broke a magical barrier and got injured in the process. It was probably better to wait.

"You know the last time I got summoned out of family time, one of my brothers went apeshit on the cultists." Danny continued to interrupt the leader's speech, just to be a little shit. He needed to pass the time somehow. Plus he wasn't lying. He had gotten summoned right out of movie night with his siblings, it's no understatement to say that they were not amused. Jason was especially pissed for some reason. "And the time before that it was my younger brother, that was a whole lot more bloody but no one died anyway in the end.

"Silence spirit of balance, you will listen to me. I was the one that summoned you."

"Yea… buddy that's not how this whole summoning thing actually works. You read a couple of fictional books." Danny retorted until he saw what the leader pulled out and flinched back.

How was that possible? Danny was sure that after his parents death, Bruce had bought all the rights of Fenton Works, including the patents and put it all in Danny's name no matter how much some tried to fight it. If it wasn't willed to Danny then Bruce had bought it. They had stopped any production of his parents' inventions, they had forced the GIW to cough up all the inventions they bought and then disband the governmental organization through the Justice League.

Of course Danny had known that some of his parents inventions were still on the black market and then there were also Vlads inventions but, the cult leader was holding up a Fenton bracelet Danny had specifically created for his brother to help him control the corrupted ectoplasm in his system until his treatment with Frostbite was done. How was it possible for them to get a hold of it? No wait it looked slightly modified from the one he made for his brother.

"This will make you listen to me." Danny's eye widened as he noticed a shard of a very familiar red crystal embedded in the bracelet when the leader waved it around triumphantly at Danny's reaction. It wasn't enough to brainwash him by simply holding it to his face but if he made direct contact with it? Danny wasn't so sure.

"How did you get that!"

"Oh not so mouthy anymore are we?"

His core quivered and all his eyes could do was focus on the red shiny stone as flashback ran through his mind as he pressed as far away from the leader as he could. His back hit the other end of the barrier he was in and Danny contemplated breaking the barrier and high speed flying home to the Wayne manor even if it risked injury.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The calm but familiar voice broke Danny out of his panic as he saw a blade sneak around the leader's neck. Robin was standing right behind the man seemingly having appeared out of nowhere.

"Robin! B said to wait for his signal!" Another voice appeared and Danny heard the thud next to him with the flutter of a cape. Relieved, he turned his head ever so slightly to find Red Robin next to the barrier, looking unimpressed at the fact that Robin, from the looks of it, had run ahead of them once again.

Robin clicked his tongue and Danny finally relaxed enough to snicker at his siblings' banter. Before he could add in his own two cents to the banter a window crashed in and Red Hood added himself to the rescue party.

"Can't any of you follow a fucking plan?" The man announced his presence loudly while also landing boot first on some random cultist members. That instantly scattered, their stunned frozeness, caused by their leader getting held at blade point, broken now.

"You're one to talk. Since when do you simply follow B's plans anyway?" Red Robin huffed back, taking the bracelet from the leader as well as destroying the barrier seal with his boot by smudging the chalk writing.

"Point taken." The other answered as he started to knock out any cultist that was in his reach. Red Robin joined him once he gave Danny a look over and was certain that the barrier no longer existed.

Robin once more clicked his tongue causing Danny to look over, the leader now knocked out cold before his feed. "Phantom, you need to stop getting summoned by these incompetent…"

"Imbeciles!"

"Scoundrels!"

"Asshats!"

"Scum!"

"Fucktards!"

"Lunatics!"

"I do not require your input!" Robin shouted across the room at their older siblings that were currently giving the rest of the cult members the beat down of their life.

"Fruitloops?" Danny offered chuckling at the seething glare Robin directed at him for that and he lifted the palm of his hands in a sign of peace.

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diabolichare · 3 days

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Familar Stranger

DP x DC au with a dash of dimensional travel where Danny, due to his ghostly nature, looks slightly different depending on how others perceive him.

Warning: OP has no knowledge of space other than Google and is also a non-native English speaker; proceed with caution.

Same startup kits; Danny becomes the successor to the Infinity Realm (he's a baby by both ghost and human standards, so there's a temporary council for now). Anyway, he still has some power over the ghosts, so he asks them to lessen the amount of fighting to focus on schoolwork and "princely education."

Now here's where my brainrot begins.

The Lazarus Pits, necromantic rituals, or portals of any kind that have "death" or "soul" in them tend to be connected to the Ghost Zone. However, the zone has its own defensive mechanism, so unless someone *Fentons* actively makes a gateway or has "experienced" death, it's nearly impossible to come upon the zone. A certain furry bridage in Gotham has unknowingly ticked all the checkboxes.

During a misson, one of the bats got caught in a magic situation and got transported to the Infinity Realms. They wandered around, dogding ghosts, slowly getting insane from all these damn corridors and living paintings, before they stumbled upon a seemingly random door (CW is involved; he's having a great time testing the poor bat).

Opening the door leads them to the universe. They closed the door, then opened it again. Yep, that's an entire universe complete with its own planetary systems and, oh, so pretty stars growing and dying in a blink of an eye. Another check around shows them that this is the only door so far in the endlessly long hallway. They look down (if there's even a down, for there's only infinity) and take an experimental step. The Milky Way lit up under their feet, with stars gathering around to form a twisting path to nowhere.

For the next couple of hours, days, or minutes, they made their way through the galaxies. Just when they were about to spiral into a midlife crisis, they heard... humming?

Did they finally lose it? They asked themselves before noticing a glowing figure sitting on an asteroid nearby.

"Hello?"

The figure flinched, and life paused. The blackhole by their left stopped spinning, the stars weren't twinkling, and the figure turned their head. Now it's their blood that runs cold.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Lazarus-colored orbs stared back at them with a familiar face but an unfamiliar voice. Damian tilted his head, looking at them in confusion (there's something wrong, wrong, wrong-). They blinked because, what the hell, seeing something other than a scowl on the boy's face is WeirdTM. Suddenly, that's a teenaged Jason staring at them, much closer than he(?) was before.

At this point, they realized— eyes moving over the entire regalia and the glowing crown that just appeared—they're probably in deep sh*t.

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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sO i got to part two of the daniel jason todd fenton au :)

>:) word count 8k+

So, first, taglist for folks who asked for it: @blep-23 @mikyapixie @isnt-that-grape @randomenglishmajor @illryiannightmare @the-navistar-carol

SECOND: this part needs a trigger/content warning list: - CW Mild Swearing - CW Slight Psychological Horror - ^ CW mild depictions of being haunted by your own ghost/death flag and not realizing it (other people do though) - CW Brief Emetophobia (Danny throws up during a second nightmare) - CW Danny has nightmares of dying - except its of Jason Todd's warehouse death. It's not explicit but it's implied - TW Mild mentions of perceived Blood - TW Depictions of Corpses (first is non-descript, and then second one is slightly more descript but its not anything uh, super descriptive) - TW Mild description of burns (the descriptive part above) - TW Depictions of Panic Attacks (Danny's nightmares)

I mentioned that this au was inspired by a song lyric from Jann's 'Gladiator' here is that line:

I know your addiction's attention, Let's start a show Is it everything and more than you were hoping for? Show us something we ain't never seen before

The day after Danny meets himself, he's downstairs having breakfast in the dining room with the rest of the family, listening idly in on their conversations. Tim Drake is talking about something about Wayne Industries with Mr. Wayne - and wasn't that a startling surprise to learn the first time? - and Damian was slyly trying to feed Ace under the table. Duke Thomas was mid conversation with Cass, much of it audibly one-sided as Cass swaps between ASL and verbal speech.

(Danny comes across her a fair few amount of times in Wayne Manor. The first time was in the library. She hands him a book about planets, smiles, and walks away.)

(He hasn't talked much to Duke Thomas yet, but he plans to - he seems cool. They just haven't had the time to run into each other yet. Danny might just have to corner him, he thinks.)

And finally Dick Grayson on his left, his Dick Grayson, was talking away with the other Dick Grayson - who had stopped by from Bludhaven for the morning for his day off. He was a cop, ew. They were comparing lives, specifically college lives. There wasn’t much to talk about in their childhood, it seems. Danny was quietly listening in.

(They both gave their Bruces headaches as children, apparently. Climbing the chandeliers and sliding down the staircase banisters. Flips and tricks only a child raised by the circus could do.)

All-in-all, a very quiet morning, Danny thinks. That is, until the other Dick Grayson turns to him and goes; "I'm sure you've been asked already, but what do your parents do, Mini Jay?"

Danny squints at him, and releases his grip on his spoon to raise a pointed finger. "First off: only my Dick Grayson can call me Jay, you have your own." He says, slightly playful and nodding to Dick - oh that was going to get confusing, fast. He should come up with a nickname for one of them, probably - "And second: you're the second person to ask me that, actually. Jason - er, myself? - asked me yesterday. My parents are ectologists."

Apparently, mentioning that he met himself is a set of magic words, because the whole table stops what they're doing, and Danny's half-sinking back into his chair when all eyes turn to him in varying degrees of surprise. Dick - Richard, he’s going to call him Richard - looks at him with wide eyes and furrowed, confused brows. "You saw Jason?"

(Danny sends Bruce a confused look, but he's not paying attention - looking at everyone else with threaded eyebrows and a faint frown. Well, at least Danny isn't the only one confused by the reaction.)

(What a comfort.)

"I guess that nickname is a dimensional constant." He mutters under his breath, and straightens up, eyeing the room warily. It... doesn't bode well to him that the Waynes were surprised by his other self's appearance -- was hisself estranged from the family?

...He hopes that doesn't happen in his world. Dick and Bruce may not be his adoptive family, but he likes them quite a lot. He wants to stay in contact with them when they get home.

"Yeah, he was in the library." He says, frowning at Richard Grayson. "He was sitting in my armchair." He supposes it was Jason's armchair first -- god, that was so weird to refer to himself in third person. "We talked for a little bit, and he asked me what my parents did. They're ectologists, by the way."

He turns to Mister Wayne and tilts his head, "Did you really not know that he was here?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. He wouldn't expect Richard to know, he doesn't live here. But Mister Wayne looks just as surprised, perhaps even a little remorseful.

(There’s a pit in his stomach that’s growing bigger.)

(His neck burns with a new pair of eyes, ones that he can’t see.)

Mr. Wayne looks thoughtful for a moment, and then carefully, he goes; "Jason is rather... independent. He comes and goes from the manor when he feels like it." And the way he speaks sounds like he was choosing his words carefully. Danny suppresses the shiver of unease.

Something was not well in this house. Something unspoken was haunting the air.

(Jason would know about hauntings, wouldn’t he?)

He hopes history won't repeat itself, he likes Bruce quite a lot.

"...Alright," he says after a moment of silence, not hiding his wariness as he slowly turns back to Richard. His eyes flick towards Bruce, and then to Ricard. "Anyway, my parents are ectologists, as I've said for the third time now."

Richard, for his effort, takes the topic change easily, and his surprise shifts into one of curiosity - as does everyone else. (Did Danny really not mention what his parents did? Even Dick and Bruce look intrigued.) "That's... new." Richard says lightly, Danny commends him for the way he sounds non-judgmental. "What are ectologists?"

Danny quirks a dry half-smile, and deadpans; "Studiers of all things dead and afterlife."

...And there is that reaction again. A ripple of surprise and intrigue that spreads throughout the room as everyone looks at him, like a bunch of cats perking up their ears.

On the other side of the table, Damian scoffs quietly, a sound much like the one Jason - the other one - did when Danny told him. Danny's eyes snap over to him in an instant, he stares at him, trying to study him. Why that reaction - again?

He lets himself frown, briefly, before addressing Richard again. "Everyone just calls them ghost hunters, but the 'official' term is ectologists." He drawls, air-quoting the word 'official' with his fingers as he rolls his eyes. "They've been obsessed with ghosts since college. We even have a lab in the basement, and they keep liquid ectoplasm samples in the fridge."

Danny's been in the lab a handful of times, he and Jazz both have, either to clean it as part of their chores, or to listen to a lecture from their parents for their newest invention. The lab is cool, kinda, but Danny thinks it wouldn't look out of place in any evil lair of a Rogue with a doctorate.

…He’s glad that the Fentons weren’t stationed in Gotham. They would have blown up a street. He’s surprised they haven’t already.

"Ectoplasm?" Dick asks, leaning over to catch Danny's eye. Almost by instinct now Danny smiles at him, and then nods.

"Mom and dad say it's the stuff that makes ghosts." He explains, leaning back against his seat, his arms crossing. "It's invisible in its natural state, and it makes up everything. Kinda like the Force from Star Wars, or just, matter in general."

That cracks a few quiet, laugh-like sounds through the dining room. Danny halves a smile again, a swelling of pride in his chest that lingers for a moment. "My parents say that when ectoplasm condenses enough in one area, it can start taking on visible properties," he continues, "they say that ghosts are just the memories and emotions of a dying person or animal being imprinted on a concentration of ectoplasm, and that the ghost itself isn't actually the person or animal, just matter trying to mimic it."

Which Danny guesses makes sense, even if the way they talk about ghosts made him really uncomfortable. His parents insisted that ghosts weren't actually people, but he just couldn't shake the idea that they were. How close to ‘human’ does something get before they actually are?

Well, no, that wasn’t fair. Superman wasn’t human, and yet everyone treated him like he was. Let him rephrase himself:

How human-like must something get before they are considered as such? Before they’re considered sapient and sentient, and real?

"That's... quite interesting." Someone says, and Danny turns to see Bruce leaning his elbows against the table and putting his chin on threaded fingers. He looks genuinely engrossed in what Danny's said, and pride once again leaks into his heart. "You mentioned they kept ectoplasm in a liquified state in their... fridge?"

"Oh yeah," Danny says, putting his full attention to Bruce, "it's crazy. They keep little test tube racks in the freezer full of liquid ectoplasm, and it's this - uh - glowing, bright green stuff. It used to be the weirdest thing in the house."

(From his peripherals, Danny notices the room tense up again at his description — and he bites back the urge to slow his talking down and narrow his eyes. Suspicious. Suspicious. The Waynes weren’t scientists - why do they react to something like they are?)

(Nobody knows what ectoplasm is. To the scientific world, it's an unconfirmed theory of a state of matter. Why do the Waynes act like they know what it is?)

(Danny is not stupid. Even if his scientific family makes him feel like it, sometimes.)

Bruce gives him this half-tilted, confused smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. "Used to be?"

Danny opens his mouth, the answer already on the tip of his tongue -- and then he freezes. His jaw clicks shut as he frowns. Should he say what his parents' latest pet project was? Surely, surely, it would be fine? Their inventions never work - and a life-sized portal is just another thing on his parents' crazy ideas list.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, chewing on the skin as he rolls the answer over in his head. ...Surely, it would be fine. His face turns in hesitance, and his shoulders scrunch and twist to his ears, like he's about to admit something that could get him grounded by his parents.

"They... may, or may not, be building an inter-dimensional portal in the basement?" His voice steadily pitches upward nervously the longer he speaks. By the time he finishes, his voice is close to a squeaky pitch.

There is a horrified silence that follows him, sitting in the air so still-like that Danny could hear the whoosh of a pin drop. He should have expected that, nervously surveying the ranging horrified expressions on the Wayne family's faces. "...I promise they're harmless... to the living." He hesitates, "Mostly."

Bruce stares at him for a long moment. "Mostly?" He repeats, his brows arched high and pinched together. Danny cringes back a little.

"Dad's a little clumsy, that's all." He says, shrugging with a helpless smile. It doesn't help, he thinks, and the silence is strangling. Sitting up, he's a little frantic to add; "I really, really, doubt it's going to work, Bruce. Their inventions never do. Mom and dad built a mini portal in college and it didn't work either!" There's a moment of silence following him, before he quietly adds, wincing, "It- it did hospitalize the guy who was helping them, though."

He only heard about that when he asked his parents about the portal - it was still in production when they picked him up. Jack Fenton claimed it was safe as safe could be - they’d make sure that the ‘college’ instance never happened again.

Bruce - both Bruces actually - looked vaguely ill at the thought. Mister Wayne’s face was blank, his face sunk into his folded hands, and Bruce’s stare burned into Danny, intense like concentrated fire.

Danny for some reason - either through his panicked urge to make things better, or through temporary insanity - laughs forcibly. "The worst thing that could happen is that the portal could explode, but that never happens."

Next to him, Dick makes a stressed sound. "That's not better, Jay." He forces out. He looks even more horrified.

Danny sucks on his bottom lip for a long beat. Then lets out a breath.

"Yeah, I know." Danny sighs, deep and long while his shoulders slump. He watches the room for a moment, with their various stony-like expressions, and looks back at the very concerned-looking Bruce. "But Bruce, I swear it's fine. Nothing's gonna happen, please don't call the Justice League on my parents. They really are harmless."

Bruce looks conflicted.

"I was being dramatic when I said the portal could explode, it won't." He continues, giving Bruce what Jazz has called his 'cheating puppy eyes'. "My parents are eccentric about their line of work, but they understand lab safety. They'd never do anything to put me and Jazz in danger."

...Actively or on purpose, that is.

He and Bruce stare each other down. One second, two seconds; what feels like thirty seconds pass in silence before Bruce relents, sighing deeply and uncannily dad-like. He drags a hand down his face, and rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "When we get back to our universe, you are giving me your phone number so you can contact me if anything happens."

Danny beams, nodding hurriedly. "Thank you, Buzz."

Bruce isn't able to hide his smile - small as it was - quickly enough. "You're welcome, Danny."

—-----

Danny has a nightmare that night. He doesn't remember most of it. There's a ticking sound, and high laughter, and there is a thumping heartbeat in his ears. Everything is dark and he is in agonizing pain.

He wakes up in paralyzing terror, a scream lodged in the back of his throat. His head pounds like a concussion and there is a shallowing ache in his ribs, like someone's kicked him, and kicked him, and kicked him until all air has been knocked from his lungs. He can't breathe.

Danny's hands scrabble for his throat, and even though he can hear himself gasping for air, it doesn't feel like he's taking any of it in. There is no relief in the action, no reassurance, and everything is so hot. He kicks at his blankets, his panic growing higher as they tangle around his legs.

He needs-

He needs--

He needs to move. He needs to get up. He needs to free himself. He needs to prove that he's not dying. He feels like he's dying. He feels like he's burning. There are tears swelling in his eyes as he finally gets the blankets off his feet, and he rolls - quite literally - out of bed.

He tries to catch himself, he does. But he doesn't. He hits the floor with a heavy thud and can hardly bring himself to care -- he catches himself on his elbows, and the sting it causes makes him feel worse. The air is knocked out of his chest again.

The ground is cold though, blessedly cold. And before Danny can realize this, he lifts his head and, disoriented, looks for the door. It's too dark, it's too dark. His head swivels blindly in search of it. He needs to get out, he needs to escape.

"Bruce." He croaks, still trying to force air down into his lungs. His call comes out raspy, weak, and hot tears blur his vision.

"Dick." He tries instead when a minute passes and no one comes, and he thinks he can finally start breathing. No one comes to find him - his voice is too quiet to wake anyone up. The tears in his eyes bubble and pop, and stream down his face.

He makes a distressed noise. "Jazz?" He whispers, his voice shaky and uneven with an encompassing want for his sister. It's nearly been a month since they got here. He wants Jazz.

No one hears him. He's alone.

God, he doesn't want to be alone. Please don't make him be alone.

Danny eventually gets himself calmed down. But he is curled up on the floor, trembling with the lingering traces of fear from whatever dream had woken up. His fingers dig painfully into his arms, leaving crescent-moon indents by his nails. The contents of the nightmare are already fading further into his mind, slipping out of his hands like water. Like ash.

He feels no need to chase after it.

The back of his shirt is damp with sweat, and in between the trembling he is also shivering, goosebumps lacing up his arms. His eyes have adjusted to the dark, and he stares with wide, crying eyes at the side of his bed. His breath comes out in short, shaky pants.

He doesn't know how long he lays there, trying to comprehend what happened as his mind still hangs onto the edge of the dreamworld. It feels like there is something in the room with him, crawling along the walls.

Danny forces himself to get up, and the sudden standing makes his vision blacken and swim as blood rushes to his head. He stumbles, slightly, and lurches halfway across the room for the light switch.

He squints as the room is drenched in light, chasing away the lingering paranoia in the back of his brain. He is still shaking. His head still hurts. He still looks, wide eyed, around the room for anything out of place.

There is none.

But he still feels unsafe. He needs- he needs to find someone, or go somewhere else. He grabs a firm pillow off the bed, and leaves.

(He ends up in the library alone. He turns on the lights and grabs a book Dick recommended to him, and he curls up tight in his armchair. He ends up falling asleep just as the sun is rising.)

(He doesn't tell anyone about the nightmare.)

Progress in getting the three of them back to their home dimension is slow. Dimension Hopping is a rare experience, and what update Bruce gets he relays back to Danny and Dick: they're trying to figure out a way to send them back safely, from the exact time they disappeared, and to find what dimension they're from. It's complicated magic.

It's been three weeks.

Danny, for one, is getting homesick. He misses Jazz, Sam, and Tucker terribly, and his parents. Bruce and Dick are great, really, and Danny kinda wants to keep in touch with them after they return to their own world, but they aren't replacements of his sister and friends.

His nightmare from a few days ago still haunt his steps. He closes eyes, and that high-pitched laughter and blood-rushed pounding burns itself his ears and fills a level of unseen terror into his heart. Danny thinks that if he was hit with Scarecrow's fear gas, this is what it would feel like.

He tries to avoid falling asleep by reading in his room, by stargazing, but the place sets him on edge; an unsettling reminder of that nightmare. So he goes to the library when it gets too much, he's run into Bruce twice now doing it, and they both do reading.

Danny thinks Bruce can suspect something is up with him, but he doesn't want to tell him about that nightmare. Dick either, for that matter. He just wants to forget it.

They spend afternoons in the gym, they have it mostly to themselves - Tim Drake is at Wayne Industries, Damian Wayne is at school, so is Duke Thompson, and Cassandra Cain is... doing whatever she does during the day. Danny's not totally sure.

Dick in that time, tries showing Danny how to be more flexible. He says he's a fast learner, but Danny knows he's been slacking lately with his lack of sleep.

There isn't much they can do outside of the manor - Bruce and Dick can't go outside because they'll catch the attention of the paparazzi, and they are both significantly younger than their counterparts, and Danny isn't allowed out without a chaperone.

Which has its own unique set of problems because rumors could rapidly start if he's seen with any of the Waynes multiple times. The paparazzi aren’t dumb enough… okay, most — some — of them aren’t dumb enough to make a tabloid claiming there’s a new Wayne kid just because they see the Waynes interacting with one kid, one time. Multiple times however? That’s another story. And, he has the same issue as Bruce and Dick - he's a baby-faced Jason Todd. Who is Bruce Wayne's adoptive son in this world. He could be recognized.

And how do you explain a tiny Jason Todd to a world where Jason Todd is a full grown man?

So all three of them are... stuck inside, so to speak. And making do with what they can. Danny spends most of his morning and early noon with Dick, and then they both separate after to have time to themselves before dinner.

Bruce is in one of the studies, doing... something. Danny's not sure and he keeps forgetting to ask.

Dick likes Danny - Jason? - Jay. Danny said that he can call him Jason, and he doesn't protest to being called Jay.

Point is: he likes Jay. He's a delightful kid to be around; he's funny, and clever, even if he doesn't realize it himself. And Dick's a little upset that Jay isn't his brother in his world, he would've loved to have him around the manor. He probably would have visited more if he was around.

Something that he and Bruce were still slowly trying to fix...

He likes spending time with him - getting to teach him his acrobatic tricks was not something he expected, but he loves showing Jay how to do them. He thinks this is probably how Bruce felt when he was training Dick how to be Robin, all those years ago.

Speaking of which, Dick was still not over the Robin jacket that Jay wore. The origins of it weren't the best - Jay started wearing it to take back the insult the other kids at his school were throwing at him - but isn't that what part of what being Robin was about?

Cheesy, he knows. But his point still stands.

He thinks that if he had to pass the Robin title down to anyone, it would be Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton. Or perhaps just Jason Fenton-Todd? Jay doesn’t seem all that attached to the name Danny.

(“Mom and dad just started calling me it when they picked me up.” Danny — Jay shrugged when Dick asked him about it, the two of them swinging from bar to bar. “I wasn’t tellin’ ‘em my name at the time, so they gave me a new one.”)

If he had met Jason before the Fentons had, Dick thinks maybe he would have adopted him instead. And what would that future look like? Would he have been able to, when he had to go to college and classes? Would he have been able to keep going out at night, and keep that secret to himself?

He’ll never know, he supposes.

“I think that’s it for today.” Dick says, swinging off the jungle gym and landing on the mats with a cat-like thump. Behind him, Jay groans, and drops with a less graceful thud as Dick stretches out his spine. There’s a satisfying pop-pop-pop of his back as he leans back.

He turns, and sees Jay going for his water bottle. He looks tired — from what, Dick doesn’t know. But there are dark bags under his eyes and a sleep-distracted look on his face. He’s been distracted, and their lessons have been suffering from it.

Dick wants to know what’s bothering him, but Jay hasn’t said anything, and Dick doesn’t know what he could say to make it better.

“I can still keep going.” Jason insists, but he tiredly slumps over to grab his water, and straightens up sluggishly. It’s probably not a lie, but anything Dick shows him he doubts that Jay will retain it. “You don’t have to stop.”

“Oh but I want to.” Dick says, walking over to grab his own water. “I’m human too you know—” and Jay snorts at him with a grumbled ‘doubt it’. “—so I also need my breaks.”

“With the way you can bend I really don’t think so.” Jason mutters, eyeing him up and down. Dick laughs quietly and takes a long sip of his water. “Seriously, circus boy, what do they feed you? Actually - what did they feed myself?”

Dick’s laughter doubles as Jay’s eyes grow wide and wild, his head shaking with spasming arms. “No, seriously! I don’t know if you’ve seen the other me yet, Dick, but he- he’s fucking huge!” He exclaims, and jumps as high as he can as his arms try to make a silhouette above his head. “I- I’m almost as big as Jack Fenton, and we’re not even biologically related! I don’t know where he got that much height to him, ‘cause- ‘cause Willis, that drunk bastard, was never that big!”

Dick hasn’t seen the elusive other Jason Todd, and he’s been so curious about him. Both he and Bruce have — especially considering that everyone else doesn’t seem to want to tell them about him. He tried stopping his other self to ask about Jason Todd of his world, and his other self just said that he was his little brother and the second robin, and that he did a lot of his own stuff.

It was a whole bunch of fucking nothing. And he and Bruce were growing suspicious about it. They hadn’t thought of it before because, well, they were busy adjusting to being in a new world and trying to figure out a way back. And then Jason was never really brought up, but neither was Dick Grayson unless Dick asked about it, and he didn’t think to ask about Jason Todd before.

It was all just strange.

But Jay’s exclamation over the size of himself distracts Dick long enough that he forces himself to put the mystery of Jason Todd on the backburner for now. “I’ll- I’ll have to see him for myself, Jaybird.” He says when his laughter subsides, and he straightens up.

“Seriously,” Jay stresses, and he starts to make his way towards the gym door. “He’s fucking massive, Dick. Built like a brick shithouse.”

Dick almost starts laughing again, “Where did you even learn that phrase?”

Jay rolls his shoulders back and grins at him slyly, “I read.” He says, and it’s so clearly not how he learned that word that Dick barks out a laugh.

They reach the door, and Jay holds the door open as Dick reaches for the light switch. He looks behind him, surveying the room quickly to make sure that there’s nothing they could have left on the floor, before turning off the lights.

Bright green eyes stare at him from the mirror. Right where Jay is standing.

In an instant, the lights are back on. Dick’s heart has been kickstarted into fifth gear, suddenly and loudly racing in his chest as he darts his head around the room. It was only two seconds, perhaps only even one, but fear has been shot like an adrenaline needle into Dick’s veins. An inhuman, skyrocketing fear alike to Scarecrow’s fear gas.

What was that?

WHAT WAS THAT?

But there’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There is only Jason where the eyes were.

From the mirror’s reflection, Jason turns his head — he hadn’t been looking at Dick, he hadn’t been looking at Dick — and stares up at him. There is confusion written on his face as he glances up at Dick, and then at the mirror. He meets his eyes - Jason’s blue, blue, not green, eyes — and Dick forces himself to look away from the mirror and down at Jay.

“What was that for?” Jay asks him, perfectly normal and perfectly confused.

Dick feels like he just ran a marathon. He’s panting, he doesn’t know why, and he forces himself to sound like he wasn’t as he wets his lips and furrows his brows. “I thought I saw something.” He says, frowning.

He didn’t think. He did. He did.

What did he see?

It was standing where Jay was. Those eyes. Those green-green eyes. It was where Jay was. He forces himself to shake his head, his frown deepening, unsettled. Jason peers around him as if to see what he had, and Dick puts a hand on his chest, stopping him. “It was nothing, let's go.”

He turns Jay around, and ignores his bewildered look. That lighthearted mood he had earlier has plummeted, replaced with an eerie paranoia as he takes the door from Jason’s hand and flicks the lights back off.

When he looks over his shoulder at the mirror, there’s nothing there.

—------------

Danny has another nightmare. It’s the same one. It’s dark again. That high pitched laughter fills his ears. The ticking is louder, louder, louder. It’s counting down, but to what - he can’t see — he can’t see what it’s counting down to.

There is still so much pain. His head hurts, his body hurts. He has a body now, he can remember he has a body. He’s in so much pain. He looks down at his hands and pooling around his knees is a bloody yellow cape, it’s torn and bloody and his hands are bloody and torn and he’s wearing green gloves.

He wakes up just before the ticking stops. He doesn’t know how he knows that the ticking stops.

Danny rolls over and hangs himself sideways off the bed, gasping for air that doesn’t come. He wants to scream again, to shriek with such terror that it sends everyone in the manor running into his room. He doesn’t, he can’t, he has no mouth and he must scream.

Danny gasps for air instead, and then dry heaves until he throws up onto the floor. His head is spinning with the fadings of a dream-made concussion, again. His chest hurts deeper, more, it’s no longer shallow and as if someone was sitting on his chest, like someone had beat him in the stomach and chest and head.

He feels like he’s choking. He is, he’s choking on what bile he can’t get out of his throat, and he forces himself to swallow it back down. He’s crying, he realizes, and dragging in air down into his lungs to the point it hurts.

What is going on? He thinks through the haze in his mind. With what lucidity he has he brings a hand to his head to make sure he’s not bleeding. His palm swipes against sticky skin, and all that comes back is sweat. He’s not bleeding. He feels like he is.

Make it stop. His inner mind wails as he finally, finally, starts to calm down again. He’s still crying. The tears burn down his cheeks, and he absently sticks out his tongue and licks the ones that gather at his lips away. He wipes at his face again, and when he looks at his hands, all he sees is skin.

He’s not wearing gloves.

His hands reach for his back, and grasp his sweat-soaked shirt instead. He’s not wearing a cape. It soothes him, just a little bit. But not enough to keep him feeling safe.

Danny peers over the side of the bed, and through his dark-adjusted eyes he sees the sitting puddle of throw-up on the floor. He cringes, sniffling. He can’t keep that there. He needs to — he needs to clean that up.

Alfred must be sleeping by now — what time is it? He doesn’t know. He can’t wake him up. Where does Alfred keep the cleaning supplies?

Danny throws his legs over the side — they’re not broken, he thinks dazedly — why would he think they’re broken? — and he stumbles to the door. He avoids, somehow, the sick.

(He passes by a mirrored vanity on his way to the door. He doesn’t see his reflection staring at him with green-green eyes. He doesn’t see those eyes following him.)

He runs into Bruce in the hallway. He should have guessed it so. Danny freezes in his tracks, fear shooting up into his throat as Bruce turns towards him, already a smile pulling on the older man’s face.

It drops immediately when he sees him. It twists down, and his face burrows into concern. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Bruce is kneeling before him before Danny can blink. He looks worried. Danny must look awful then.

(He does. He looks pale as a ghost, and his face is splotchy red and shiny with tears.)

Danny blinks at him numbly, trying to get his thoughts in order. Bruce’s hands are on his shoulders, Danny throws his hands over them, squeezing the knuckles and blinking widely. “I had-” he licks his lips, “a- uh, nightmare. And then I threw up.”

Fuck, he feels like a toddler. His eyes burn with embarrassed tears. He’s fucking thirteen. He’s not a baby. But he feels like a little kid going to their parent’s room. Bruce isn’t even his dad. He shouldn’t feel this way.

But Bruce doesn’t make fun of him, or scold him, and Danny didn’t really expect him to, but the concern that melts over his face as his eyes soften makes him feel all warm and fuzzy anyways. “Okay,” Bruce says, expression softened but no less worried, and stands up. “Okay, we can go find Alfred then.”

Danny’s lips press together, uneven and wobbling. “Please don’t.” He says before he can stop himself, and his voice cracks. He feels like such a baby. “I can clean it myself. We don’t have to wake him up.”

“Do you even know where the cleaning supplies are, chum?” Bruce asks, and in the dark hallway he can see him raise an eyebrow. Danny’s lips press tighter together. He doesn’t. But he can find it.

They wake up Alfred. Dany feels like shit the entire time.

“I’m sorry.” He croaks as he follows Alfred and Bruce down the hallway with a mop and a bucket. He’s so embarrassed. He’s going to cry again, and he hates it. “I can do it, Mister Pennyworth. Please.”

“You sound,” Mister Pennyworth starts, his voice soft, “just like young Master Jason when he started living here.” He turns to throw Danny an endeared smile, and Danny thinks it’s supposed to make him feel better. It does, a little bit, and it also makes him feel worse.

“I am Jason.” He says, and tears spill down his face again. He is Jason. That’s his name. It’s not Danny, it never has been. The time he’s been here has slowly been pointing that out to him. He may be Fenton, but he’s not Danny.

Alfred gets it all cleaned up, and Bruce sticks with him after he leaves. Danny’s grateful and resentful of it — hasn’t he embarrassed himself enough tonight?

Bruce leads him to the library, a funny parallel to the first time. “We can ask Mister Wayne —” Bruce’s face scrunches up slightly, and Danny laughs under his breath. At least he’s not the only one still weirded out by it. “— about getting you a new room tomorrow.”

Danny sniffs dryly, “How’d you know?” He didn’t think it was obvious that he didn’t want to go to sleep in his room. Bruce smiles knowingly at him, sadly, and they both sit down in the lounge chair next to the fireplace. It sits across from Danny’s armchair.

“I know a thing or two about nightmares.” He says softly.

Oh.

Yeah.

That’s right. His parents.

He probably had nightmares about that.

Danny looks away from him, his eyes drop to his hands. His bare, non-bloody hands. He leans into Bruce’s side. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He mumbles. He doesn’t want to talk about dying. Or what he thought was dying.

“And you don’t have to.” Bruce says, slinging one arm around him and slumping against the curve of the chair. Danny reluctantly follows his falling, and finds himself trapped between the back of the chair and Bruce’s side. His ear is pressed to Bruce’s heartbeat. “We can just sit here, and talk about something else.”

Danny blinks at the empty fireplace. “Okay. Tell me about films again.”

Bruce’s fingers dig gently into his hair, and scratch slowly against his scalp. “Okay, Danny.”

Danny frowns. “And don’t call me Danny. It’s Jason.”

He doesn’t look up to see Bruce’s smile, but he can hear it as the man thumbs over the shell of his ear. “Okay, Jason.”

(Danny falls asleep halfway through Bruce’s telling of the history of the Grey Ghost. Bruce knows by the way his breathing slows into a steady rhythm and his eyes don’t open.)

(He smiles for mite a moment, before it drops and his eyes turn to the bookshelf in the corner. Standing there is a small black figure, with two burning green eyes.)

(They stare at each other for a long, long minute, Bruce’s heart rising slowly. The figure tilts its head, and disappears. Bruce doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.)

—-------

Danny stares down Bruce. Bruce stares him down back. It’s morning. It’s breakfast. Everyone is at the table eating, and he and Bruce are having a silent staring contest. Danny has to ask Mister Wayne about moving to a new room, he thought he would be able to do so after breakfast.

(Who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to ask at all - why bother Mister Wayne about something he can get over?)

(Bruce, apparently, wasn’t having it. With that stupid knowing look on his face.)

But Bruce wants it to be now. Danny narrows his eyes at him, and Bruce raises an eyebrow back. Dick Grayson, his world, was going to notice soon. He was sitting next to Bruce this morning. That traitor.

If you don’t do it, I will. Bruce’s face says. Bastard. Danny was going to take away his Jason rights.

Danny’s the first to relent, pressing his lips together into an annoyed, thin line, before he lets out a silent sigh and turns to Mister Wayne. “Mister Wayne?” He says, cringing slightly when Mister Wayne looks up at him - as with most of the room.

“Yes, Danny?”

He spares one last look at Bruce, who nods curtly at him, and Danny throws him one last annoyed look before turning back to Mister Wayne. “Would it, uh, be fine if I changed rooms?” He asks.

Mister Wayne tilts his head, slightly, to the side with a look of interest. “You can, but what brought this up? Is everything okay?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Danny was expecting that question. He glares at Bruce from the corner of his eye. And then smiles shakily at Mister Wayne. “Um, uh, yeah. Everything’s fine— it’s just, it’s stupid. Some, some stupid nightmares keeping me up.”

Mister Wayne’s brows furrow, and Dick looks concerned from Danny’s peripherals. “It’s not stupid, you can change your room. I’m sorry you’ve been having nightmares.”

He doesn’t even ask what they’re about. Bruce didn’t either — he thinks he would’ve, maybe — but fuck, jeez. Danny laughs uncomfortably, scratching his jaw. “Yeah- um, thanks. It sucks.” He just barely stops himself from blurting out that he was dreaming that he was dying.

That was not a can he wanted to open. They would have questions, he knows they would, and he doesn’t want to think about it. The image of his bloody, torn hands are already seared into his mind.

Everyone goes back to eating.

(Dick keeps looking up at him with a shadow of a frown on his face, like he’s keeping an eye on him. Quick enough that Danny doesn’t notice it. Bruce does, and watches his son from the corner of his eye.)

(Danny doesn’t see it, but his reflection turns its head. And peers around the back of its chair. Its eye burns green and it stares at Dick. The next time Dick looks up, it catches his eye.)

(He doesn’t straighten up, he forces himself not to react. He just keeps staring at it, his breath locked in his lungs, his limbs filling with a low, buzzing static. He doesn’t know what it is. It’s terrifying him.)

(The reflection doesn’t react to him, but its eyes seem to… glitch. And an eye appears next to it, and another one appears in a line. The pupils slowly turn to look… at Danny.)

(The window begins to crack.)

“JaSON!” Dick suddenly yells, standing up so abruptly that his chair falls back and slams against the ground with an echoing bang. Danny jerks back in surprise, and stares at Dick, who looks at him with equally wide eyes.

Dick looks like he’s seen a ghost, his face pale as a sheet. He looks ill. He’s panting, there’s a sheen going over his forehead, like he’s just run a mile. But he’s gripping the table like he may just vault over it.

And everyone is looking at them both once again. Bruce looks incredibly concerned.

“I— what?” Danny says, pushing his back into the chair as far as he could go.

Dick blinks, and heaves a breath. Like whatever trance he was in was just… snapped out of. His brows furrow, and he moves, suddenly, peering over Danny like he’s trying to look around him. Left, right, and over, and then back again.

“You—” he pauses, breathing in, “you looked like you were about to disappear.”

Danny stares at him in disbelief. And he looks behind him, laughing nervously. There’s nothing there but his own reflection in the smooth glass window. “What- what kind of fucking—” he turns back around to look at Dick. “Why would you say that?”

“There was something in the window.” Dick says immediately, and Danny is immediately rising to his feet and rushing around the table. Nope - nope, nope, fuck that. He’s by him and Bruce in an instant, as the other Waynes stand up and turn to the window as well.

Dick’s arms are around him the moment he’s within reach, tugging him into his side as one hand presses down against his chest, keeping him close. Dick hasn’t taken his eyes off the window, brows furrowed and serious.

Everyone looks so serious. It’s freaking him out a little bit.

“What was your nightmare about, Jay?” Dick asks when he finally tears his eyes away from the window and looks down at him. He’s got a protective hold on him, something so similar to Jazz whenever their parents set something on fire upstairs.

Danny swallows dryly — does he have to say it? Saying it might bring him back to it, and he doesn’t want to go back to it. Twice was enough for him. “I was dying.” He admits anyways, and regrets it immediately when half a dozen heads all snap to look at him.

In a panic, his mouth runs. “I was- I don’t remember anything- I just, it was dark and I was in pain and-” He presses his lips together, “I— I was in so much pain. There was this laughter—” Laughter. Familiar laughter now that he thinks about it. From the news. Danny’s lips curl downwards, and he whispers to himself, “Joker?”

“Joker?” Dick repeats, his voice hard. When Danny looks up, his face is unrecognizably stern. “You had a dream that the Joker was killing you?”

“I— no— yes?” Frustration bleeds into his chest, fear pooling up his throat as the nightmare pulls on the edge of his memory. “I don’t fucking know. I didn’t see anything, all I heard was ticking and that stupid laughter. And I was bleeding, and I was wearing this yellow fucking cape, and- and I was dying.”

He pulls himself away from Dick, his breathing picking up. “I just- I was— there was this ticking sound and I woke up before it stopped, and I- I don’t know why I knew it was about to stop — but I know that when the ticking stops something bad was going to happen— and it was just a nightmare.”

Danny grits his teeth, and looks back up at Dick, forcing himself to calm down before he works himself into a panic. “It was just a fucking nightmare, Dick.” He says forcibly, and then he marches out of the room to the library.

His appetite’s been ruined.

—---------

Danny’s — Jason’s — asleep next to him. Bruce would think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that Jason’s been having nightmares about dying of all things. Nightmares that weren’t, he suspects, completely unfounded.

His other self looked ill in the face as Jason marched out of the room that morning after Dick’s outburst. Outburst. That’s all he can think to call it even if it sounds juvenile. Like it was unfounded as Jason’s nightmare.

His other self has been hiding something from him. Something about Jason Todd of this world, who he hasn’t seen at all since they arrived, but Danny — Jason — has. He would’ve thought the other Todd was a ghost if his other world’s… children… hadn’t confirmed seeing and knowing him recently.

(That was something he still hasn’t fully comprehended. Children, plural? He adopts more after Dick? He has a biological son?)

He’d be interrogating his other self on this if Jason wasn’t asleep next to him. It would be remarkably easy, as they were all sitting in the living room for the afternoon. All his other children were vigilantes, he wouldn’t need to keep pretenses.

But Jason is asleep next to him, and he doesn’t know. So he resolves to staring holes into his other self’s head, who was going through documents. A case, he bets. His other self doesn’t pay him any mind, but Bruce knows he knows that he’s staring at him.

(“What have you been keeping from me?” He growls the moment Jason is out of the dining room, rising to his feet. The look on his other self meant that he knew something about those nightmares that Bruce didn’t.

His other self looks at him, “Nothing that concerns your world.” He says, all of the kids looked tense as well, but now they were staring between the both of them like a fight would break out.

“Bullshit.” Dick snaps before Bruce can speak, he walks around him and points an accusing finger at his other self. “You looked like you saw a ghost when Jaybird said he was dreaming of the Joker killing him. You know something.”

He did not tell them anything.)

Whatever it was that his other self was hiding, Bruce would find out before they went back to their world. This concerned him, and it concerned Jason’s safety. If he wasn’t safe and his other self knew something about it, Bruce would be furious.

Jason’s ragged gasp cut through the air like a knife, and Bruce’s gaze snapped down to his face as the boy’s eyes flew open and he jerked sharply. Jason’s hands were latched onto his shirt before Bruce could react, his nails dragging into his skin like he was trying to claw himself up.

It was another nightmare. Jason was clawing at him, trying to sit himself up while jagged, awful sounding gasps filled the air. He wasn’t looking at Bruce, he wasn’t looking at anything, his eyes glazed over like he was still trapped in the nightmare.

Bruce wrapped his arms around the small boy and pulled them both down onto the ground, ignoring his other children standing up and looking at them until he had Jay in a cradle.

The boy was still gasping for air, hyperventilating. His hands drop from Bruce’s shirt and scratch at his throat, his arms forming an ‘x’ while he tilts his head back and desperately tries to draw in oxygen. Bruce tilts his head back up with his hand, and leans him against his shoulder.

“Breathe.” He murmurs, pushing damp black curls out of Jay’s face. It was a poor command - Jason’s eyes were squeezed shut and his face scrunched in pain, Bruce doesn’t think he can even hear him. “You’re safe.”

“Bruce.” Dick hisses into his ear, and Bruce doesn’t look at him. He grunts to let his son know he heard him. “The mirror.”

Bruce’s eyes fly up.

There was a floor length mirror sitting in front of the couch. A mirror that Bruce was conveniently, coincidentally, sitting in front of. A mirror that should have been working as all mirrors do.

A mirror that, instead of showing Bruce his reflection back as he was, showed him in his Batman suit. Jason was in his arms, but in a torn, bloody uniform. A uniform that looked like a Robin suit. Jason - his Jason - wasn’t a Robin. But here he was, dressed as one, his black-yellow cape pooling beneath him and covered in blood.

The Jason in the mirror, the Robin, wasn’t breathing. His head lolled over Bruce’s arm lifelessly.

Bruce’s heart skids to a stop, and he looks back down. Jason was still breathing, his hyperventilating was beginning to slow, but he was breathing. The pained crease of his face was softening, even as his brows were still furrowed.

When Bruce looks back up at the mirror, the reflection has changed. It wasn’t back to normal, Jason was just in a different suit. He was wearing a white hazmat suit now, and he was burned, horribly. The suit was melted to his skin in patches around his body in black, charred splotches, what wasn’t burned was torn, and the skin he could see was cauterized. The only part of him that was bleeding was his head, and it soaked his black hair red. What of his face he could see, there were bright green lightning figures going up his neck, burning the skin around where it glows.

The mirror cracks down the middle, severing Jason from Bruce.

He forces himself to look down, terrified to see the reflection a reality right in front of him. But Jason was alive, uninjured, and breathing quietly. Bruce presses two fingers to his throat, and feels a steady pulsepoint thumping against the pads of his fingers.

Jason’s eyes open and blue stares up at him.

When Bruce looks up at the mirror, the reflection is back to normal.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc au #dp x dc au #dpxdc au #dpdc #dpdc crossover #Danny is Jason Todd au #i didn't think of anything beyond the ending point howEVER #this post is totally open for additions if anyone is interested #i love seeing add-ons to posts #anyways EVIL LAUGHTER #THIS IS THE PART I WANTED TO GET TO. PYSCHOLOGICAL HORROR #ANGST #if this was a fic i would have ramped up the horror more #alas tis a ficlet #starry terrorizes the waynes with the fact that jason is going to die in his world and there's nothing they can do about it.#he doesnt know he's going to die. but they do :)#fun fact jazz was going to be here and she was going to be the one to see the ghost #if this was a fic that ending scene would've occurred after more build up of dick and bruce and co seeing the figure following danny around #in the original variant au the waynes dont meet danny until he's already died and is a ghost #and i was gonna have one more jason appearance but couldnt fit one in #merry belated christmas folks #have some angst after two consecutive clone^2 posts of fluff #i tried to picture what danny's body would have looked like before being ghosted and #extremely burned was the first thing that came to mind. his suit is also almost entirely melted. something to kinda resemble his ghost half #but also i couldn't stomach making him completely unrecognizable because he WOULD have been #genuinely think danny's body would have been like. half melted at least

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