chronicallyinsane-fandombitch

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

He watched the pair enter the room. Fashionably late, of course. An attempt to exert power, not that it worked. He could wait. Time meant little to him.

Luthor tugged at the cuff of his perfectly tailored grey suit. The lines of the suit fell perfectly, making him look larger than he was. Making him look dangerous. The man was sharp, Danny would give him that much, but personally Danny thought the figure in black and purple next to him was far more interesting.

“Samantha.”

“Daniel,” Sam said as she strutted over on her dangerous pointed heels.

When close, she rested a hand on Danny’s broad chest. Her nails were of course filed to a point and painted perfectly. She leaned in to kiss the air on either side of Danny’s cheeks. He mimicked the act.

“I hadn’t realized that you knew each other,” Luthor said. One of his perfectly sculpted brows was pointed raised.

“Danny and I go way back,” Sam said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Childhood friends, lovers, murders.”

“Now Sam, you have two against my one on times you’ve murdered me,” Danny pointed out.

“Yes, I do,” Sam agreed with a smug little smirk.

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Dead Birb Tango, Part 54

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

Bruce stared at Tim, floating in the liquid that looked disturbingly like Lazarus water. Anxiety crawled up his spine like stinging wasps. It made Bruce want to act—to fight to rage to save—he clenched his fists so tight that his nails bit into his palms.

He breathed in.

He breathed out and relaxed his hands.

“Like you,” Bruce repeated.

“Yes,” Danny answered. “A halfa, a half ghost. There are four of us now.”

Tim looked dead. His chest did not rise and fall. His now white eyelashes didn’t flutter.

Bruce worked his hands again. The wasps stung.

The Court of Owls had killed his child. They had snatched Tim from where he should be safe and taken him into the dark depths. They had tied up like a lamb at slaughter and they had killed him. “He’s dead.”

“Yes,” Danny answered, voice wavering. “Bruce, I’m so sorry—”

“And he’s alive.”

“I, yes—”

Bruce lunged at Danny and pulled him close. He buried his face into Danny’s floating white hair. His hand clutched at the fabric between Danny’s wings. Danny’s chest did not rise and fall. His heart did not beat. But Bruce knew that Danny still lived. He’d felt Danny’s breath and pulse and love. Whatever else Danny was, he was still alive.

Tim was still alive.

“Thank you,” Bruce whispered. “Thank you for saving my son.”

Danny clung back to Bruce just a tightly. “I didn’t, not all the way.”

“He’s as alive as you,” Bruce insisted. “That’s more than I hope for when… he’s alive, that’s all that matters right now.”

“Maybe some medical care for Phantom matters.”

“Frostbite,” Danny sighed.

“Your little bird is safe. His other family is here. There is some time before we will wake him. Let yourself be looked after so that we may minimize any long term harm,” the yeti huffed.

“He’s right,” Bruce said. “You saved Tim. Let yourself be looked after also. We’re not going anywhere.”

“If nothing else, do it for Tim,” Dick piped in. “He would have for you to be hurt because of him.”

“That’s not playing fair,” Danny said as he pulled back from Bruce.

“No,” Cass said with a serene smile.

“Alright, alright, Frostbite, I’m all yours, but just for a little bit,” Danny said.

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Explabirdion, bird part 53

masterpost please no editing or concrit, even with a but- not 100% sure of the pacing of this one, but that's what editing is for

They followed Frostbite through frozen halls to what Bruce assumed was a waiting room of some sort. The seats were massive and fur covered. Before she sat, Cass came over and took Danny’s hand from him, clearly feeling for a pulse herself.

Danny placed his other hand over hers. “It’s okay, anhinga. I’ll explain, and then we’ll go see Tim, okay?”

Cass frowned, but gave a little nod and took a seat next to Dick who wrapped an arm around her. Bruce, reluctant to let Danny go far, took the seat across from them so that he could keep Danny’s hand. Frostbite gave a nod towards Danny and left through the next door.

No one spoke.

A million thoughts ran through Bruce’s mind.

“Bruce,” Danny finally started, “do you believe in ghosts?”

“Yes,” Bruce replied easily. Gotham was too haunted by the dead not to. Bruce was too haunted by his past not to. Besides, there was Deadman.

Danny squeezed Bruce’s hand. His fingers were cold. “My parents are ectobiologists, they study ghosts. It’s been their life passion for… ever, really. It consumed them, their friend, our home, my childhood. We even lived in the most haunted city in America.

“Their lab was in the basement of our home. One of my chores as a kid was to clean it and change the filters on their machines. Dealing with it all the time made me pretty lax in lab safety. Well, growing up with them did; they even stored samples in our kitchen fridge. It was hardly a safe environment. Things were bad.” Danny fell quiet, gaze on the floor.

Bruce wanted protect Danny, protect him from the memories, from dangers long past, from the hurt that still lingered. He wanted to protect Danny from everything that he couldn’t actually protect Danny from. Instead, he prompted, “Your accident was in that lab, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Danny answered with a sigh. “My parents were working on a portal to the Ghost Zone, as they called it. It didn’t work, of course, like most of their inventions. My friends and I… well, we were stupid fourteen year olds. My one friend, Sam, dared me to go inside the portal for a picture. I’ve run over a thousand times what exactly happened. Was it just the switch I hit, was there a short, was a wire I bumped… well, the portal turned on. I was electrocuted to death.”

Bruce’s grip tightened on Danny’s hand.

Breathe. He had felt Danny’s pulse. He had seen Danny bleed. He knew that Danny was alive.

Did he?

Danny’s hand was cold.

“Bruce, hey, come one, focus on me. I’m right here? Alright?”

“I’m fine,” Bruce lied.

“Yeah, you can’t get away with that here. Ghosts are sensitive to emotions,” Danny said, “even half ghosts. I died, but at the same time, the ectoplasm from the portal revived me. I basically became Schrödinger’s Cat. I’m alive and dead at the same time.”

“And that works… because of the two forms?” Dick asked, probably so that Bruce didn’t have to.

Danny nodded. “Exactly. You all have known me in my human form. It’s the form that I’m in almost always these days, for a number of reasons. This is my ghost form. Which before you ask, the wings are new here too. After I turned into a… bird for the first time, I came to see Frostbite. When I transformed, I had wings. I, ah, never expected to get them in my human for too. It’s been a lot.”

“Phantom?” Cass asked.

“The name I’m known by here. Ghosts tend to take a new name, though not all do. But also I was…,” Danny sighs and slumps a little against Bruce’s shoulder. “I was a teenage vigilante. Which sounds like a bad alt-rock pop song, I know, but I was.”

Bruce froze.

Dick froze too, for just a moment, and then a slow grin formed. “No.”

“Yes?” Danny answered, confused.

Dick looked at Bruce. The grin was now dangerous. Bruce sighed heavily.

Danny sat up. “What am I missing?”

“Our loving father has a type,” Dick explained deceptively angelically, “and that type is vigilante.”

“Or anti-hero,” Cass added.

Dick nodded. “Or anti-hero. But a type none the less. We thought you might be a good change of pace for him, but here we find out he’s fallen back into old habits.”

Cass tsked disappointingly.

Bruce sighed again and covered his face.

“So you see,” Dick continued, “we can never let him live this down. Wait… is that phrase offensive here? ‘Live this down’ I mean?”

Danny chuckled. “I think you’ll be okay, the yeti are good people.”

“Endless teasing it is!”

“Or we can let Danny finish his story,” Bruce said, “so that we can go see Tim.”

“Right,” Danny said, tone serious again. “Teenage vigilante, someone had to stop the ghosts there escaping from the portal, my psychopathic godfather who is also half ghost, and do some light time traveling.”

“Time traveling,” Bruce said. Danny was going to turn him into a ghost at this rate.

Danny hummed. “My mentor is Clockwork, an Ancient of time. Ancients are being who are… embodiments of an idea or concept. Some of them were living beings once and became Ancients, others were neverborn. They existed with the idea of it.”

“Sound powerful,” Cass said.

“They are—extremely so,” Danny agreed. He took such a deep breath that Bruce felt the need to squeeze Danny’s hand in reassurance of whatever was to come. “And… part of this transformation of mine is my own path to becoming an Ancient.”

“What does that mean?” Bruce asked, working hard to keep his voice gentle.

“New powers, this new… form. Ghosts are malleable. Change is expected, though at a much more glacial pace. Ghosts aren’t granted a forever, but even an almost forever is long enough that things can take their time. Things are moving more quickly for me because of the fact that I’m half alive,” Danny explained.

“So… what are you the ancient of?” Dick asked into the resulting silence.

Danny quirked a crooked smile. “Hope. I’m… hope.”

Bruce squeezed Danny’s hand again. “It fits.”

“I don’t know about that,” Danny said, “but it allowed me to save Tim, so I’m embracing it.”

Tim’s name was a fresh chill down Bruce’s spine. “Tim—”

“Was dying,” Danny said with brutal efficiency. “Tim was dying. I brought him here to hope that Clockwork could reverse the process of it, but he couldn’t or wouldn’t… But it turned out that I could, with a cost.”

Danny stood and gave Bruce’s hand a little tug. Bruce didn’t want to follow, he wanted answers. He needed answers. But he stood. He’d followed Danny this far, he just had to follow a little longer.

They went through the far door and into a cavernous space. Yeti worked at consoles scattered through the space. In the center was a biotube. It was elevated off the ground on a metal base by a few feet. The liquid inside was green. Floating in the liquid was Tim.

Tim with white hair.

Tim with small, scarlet wings.

Danny eyes were locked on the tube. “All I could do was pour my power into Tim as he died. I revived him. As he was dying, I revived him... He’s like me now, a halfa. I’m sorry, Bruce, I couldn’t save him all the way.”

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

JLD's Apprentices

Danny

The morning after patrols, especially after a big Arkham breakout, was usually followed by a long rest and a big breakfast. Many of them had stayed at the manor, too exhausted to go to their hideouts or apartments. Alfred had prepared a large assortment of food: bacon, pancakes, eggs, muffins, and waffles.

Out of nowhere, a green portal appeared at the end of the table, and a teenager walked out holding a clipboard.

"Damn it, I still gotta work on my aim with these portals," he said jumping down from the table," sorry about stepping on the table B."

The table then erupted, weapons were pulled from seemingly nowhere, and each of the bats launched themselves at the intruder. The teenager was unfazed as their weapons passed right through them.

"You know, when you said that Gotham was dangerous, I wasn't expecting such a warm welcome," they smiled at Bruce.

"Good morning, Danny."

"Father, you know this intruder?"

Bruce sighs, "This is Danny, he is an apprentice under Justice League Dark."

"He works with Constantine?"

"Ew. No, I mostly work alone or with my friends."

"Father, how does he know are identities?"

"I actually didn't know your identities until I stepped through the portal. Sorry about that. The portal I was using was tied to the location of a soul, not a general location." Danny rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepishly at the ground. " This is what I get for following Constatine's advice," he muttered.

"What did he say?"

"Quote 'The bloody paranoid bastard is probably in his cave still brooding or whatever. end quote."

Several of the bats stifle laughter

Bruce sighs into his coffee. " What did you need, Danny?"

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Darlings, when someone has a disclaimer not to edit or do concrit, it means there's no room for "but-"

Y'all are getting birdritch updates so quickly because they aren't read over. Bird has never been read over, it started as a 2am fever dream.

I'm trying hard to stave off a migraine. I'm chasing around a new kitten. I'm dealing with being allergic to the new kitten. I'm dealing with new medication side effects. If I have to read over work on top of that just to post it on the hellsite, y'all are going to wait.

I'm going to make mistakes. I'm going to repeat words and fuck up double letters and compound words a lot. I have a lot of neurological and physical issues with typing and words. My attempt to fix those things go into the two chapters a week that I'm posting on Ao3.

If you can't help but 'but-' please just wait for Ao3. Because all the 'but-' does is make me feel like a failure and close Scrivener for the day. And then y'all don't get an update tomorrow.

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Bat and Birds, Part 52

masterpost speedrunning this, y'all~

“Wow, Danny wasn’t kidding. They’re literally a werewolf,” Dick said.

“Wuff,” the werewolf said with a claw pointed at their chest.

“Bruce, my son Dick, and my daughter Cass,” Bruce replied with a motion to each of his children.

It had nearly turned into a bloodbath to see who would come with him to wherever was beyond the portal. Alfred had stepped in with cookies and the order to think logically. Damian was too young, as much as he argued otherwise. Jason, with a look to Dick, grudgingly accepted that he had responsibility and a fort to hold down. Duke wasn’t sure how his powers would react. Steph said she’d wait to chew Tim out later. Barbara just gave a wane little smile and cited accessibility concerns.

Cass had simply stood by Bruce like her spot was assured.

Dick had given Jason a grateful hug and joined them.

And now the three of them were standing in front of a glowing, green portal opened by a werewolf named Wuff.

“We’re with you,” Dick said.

Bruce squeezed Dick’s shoulder briefly. “I know, thank you.”

They had already spoken about the fact that while they trusted Danny, they were still traveling through a portal to an unknown location. They needed to stay alert and ready for anything. They needed to be Bats. For a little longer, they needed to be Bats instead of family.

Bruce brushed a hand along Cass’ arm and headed for the portal. In his time as a hero, Bruce had been through too many portals. This one felt like stepping through ice water and left Bruce’s hands tingling. When the blinding green cleared, they were standing in a white room that, while inhuman in nature, was clearly a hospital of some sort. All hospitals felt a little the same.

Wuff stepped through after them, the portal sealing up like a tear being stitched. With a motion for them to wait, the werewolf disappeared through a door.

“It’s like they don’t know how bad at waiting we are,” Dick said as he started to look around the room. “It’s freezing in here.”

“It’s called the Far Frozen for a reason.”

“Danny.”

Or at least it had to be Danny, even as different as he looked. It was as if his hair and wings had been inverted in color. Both hair and feathers drifted off as it ending in smoke. His skin was tinged what should be a worrying blue. And he glowed, faintly, even in the bright room.

Danny smiled nervously. “Wuff or one of the yeti—and yes, really, yeti, will be getting you all coats so that you can be comfortable here.”

“Danny,” Bruce said again. He crossed the space so that he could reach out touch Danny’s cheek. A glowing green line cut through one of Danny’s eyes. The bright green iris was cloudy. “Are you alright? Was this one of the wounds?”

Danny took Bruce’s hands, wrapping their fingers together and pulling them away from his face. “It’s nothing, just those things—the ones that were dead but not allowed to rest… they could hurt me in any of my forms. “I should be able to heal though.”

“He should, if he lets himself rest and continue to be treated,” said the, well, yeti, Bruce could only assume, that came through the door that Wuff had left through. The yeti carried a pile of fur.

“This is Frostbite,” Danny said, motioning with their still clasped hands. “My doctor, and the leader of the yeti and the Far Frozen.”

“Not that it makes Phantom listen to what I have to say,” the yeti grumbled and passed a fur coat to Cass.

“I listen plenty,” Danny sighed, “but Tim was more important.”

A coat was handed to Dick next. “Yes, it is easy to see you feel strongly about your little bird.”

Bruce listened to them debate, but something tugged at his mind. Something was wrong. It wasn’t a threat or danger, but it was wrong enough that it set Bruce on edge. Something was…

“Danny…,” Bruce said slowly, looking down at their joined hands, “you don’t have a pulse.”

“Oh,” Danny shrugged. “No, I don’t, not like this.”

Danny didn’t… he wasn’t…

A fur coat was pressed into Bruce’s hands. Frostbit smiled gently. “Perhaps we should go somewhere more comfortable for this discussion.”

As soon as he had his coat on, Bruce found Danny’s hand again.

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

FUCK FUCK MY HEART NO NO HUMMINGBIRD OMG OMG NOOOO

(Sobs into pillow)

Birds and birdlets, Part 50

masterpost, pls no editing or con crit, this is very much first draft

“Danny deff came this way,” Duke said. “Someone just flagged me down to tell me about a guy with wings who was in a panic. Which, like, not great that a meta in a hurry in this city is assumed to be a rogue. Like, dude could have just been late for a meeting. I mean, we know he wasn’t—”

“Both trackers have disappeared,” Babs cut in.

“Were they together?” Bruce growled.

“There’s too much interference for me to tell for sure,” Babs said, “but it happened at the same instant.”

“Fuck,” Jason growled.

No one bothered to reprimand him.

“We’ll go in from all directions and try to triangulate on their last known location,” Bruce ordered. “Oracle, send out the routes.”

“On it.”

As Babs worked, Duke touched down in an alley mostly on gut feeling. It was dark, shadowed, and wrong.

“So, I think I know why their signals were distorted,” Duke said as he stared down at the wrecked grate. “They’re underground. The Court of Owls has them.”

“Fuck!”

“Signal—do not go in! Wait for Red Hood, he’s almost at your location,” Babs ordered with clear panic.

“But—”

“Signal,” Bruce snapped.

“Right…”

-

“Clockwork!”

Massive gears ticked around them like a relentless heartbeat.

“Clockwork!” Danny screamed.

“Phantom,” Clockwork answered with infuriating calm.

“Clockwork! You have to—to save him! To turn back time so that the wound—”

“I cannot.”

“What?! Of course you can! You’ve done it before! The Nasty Burger explosion—”

“Was about the fate of the world,” Clockwork said evenly, “and about ensuring that you arrive at the right point in time for what you must become.”

“Right point—Clockwork!” Danny clucked Tim tighter. “If this is the point… is this is where I’m supposed to be—in Gotham with Bruce and his family, then how can you let this happen?! How can you let Tim die?”

“I cannot save him,” Clockwork said again. “You must.”

-

“I think we can say that we’re on Danny’s trail,” Duke said. He reached out and ran his fingers along the groves that were clawed into the walls of the tunnel.

“Helps to not get lost,” Jason said. He was glad that his emotions were hidden by the modulation of the helmet. “Oracle, are you getting any of this?”

“Pieces,” she replied, but even her reply was slightly garbled. “It gets worse the further you go, which matches what we saw with Tim and Danny. Be prepared to loose contact at some point.”

“Understood,” Jason and Duke both chirped before the comm line went quiet again.

It gave a space for Jason to say, “If you see anything I wouldn’t, speak up.”

“Sure,” Duke agreed. “Nothing so far except for, like… a residue of Danniness. It’s hard to explain.”

Jason hummed to show that he heard.

“Whatever the Court does, I don’t really get? I mean, at least not yet. But, like, I haven’t gone up against them and their Talons or anything,” Duke continued. He was babbling a little, but Jason wasn’t going to tell the kid to be quiet. It was a stressful moment and with them following Danny’s unsubtle progress, it’s not like surprise was going to be on their side anyways.

Jason just hoped there was a chance still of finding them alive.

He was trying hard not to think about what it would mean otherwise.

Of Bruce breaking again. Of Dick breaking himself. Of the rest of the family who all became part of the family after—

Jason gave a little shake of his head to clear it. He would deal with the after after, whatever that may bring.

-

“Me?! What—I can’t do something like that! If I could save him, I would have saved him! I wouldn’t be here begging—”

“If you knew,” Clockwork interrupted. He brushed his fingers over Tim’s clammy forehead.

“What?”

“You would have saved him, if you knew that you could,” Clockwork said without explaining anything.

“I can’t!”

“You couldn’t. You can,” Clockwork insisted. “You are not what you were, Danny Phantom. You have started to awaken into what you were always meant to be. Think, Danny Phantom. At your deepest part of your core, what are you?”

Danny stared down at Tim, pale and dying in his arms. His wings cradled the boy. His wings. “…hope. I’m hope.”

-

They had gone quiet when they appeared to be approaching the end of the tunnel. Jason had insisted on taking lead. Duke let him. Jason was more experienced, after all, and had guns.

Turned out there wasn’t a need.

It was… carnage.

“Oracle, do you read me?” Jason asked.

“Barely. I’m trying to boost the signal,” came the fragmented reply. Or at least that’s what Duke thought she said.

“We found… something. No sign of the captives. A lot of Talons that aren’t putting themselves back together.”

“Putting themselves back together?” Duke, well, squeaked if he was being honest. He cleared his throat and tried not to look at the shattered bodies. “What do you mean ‘putting themselves back together’?”

“Talons are sorta immortal,” Jason explained, “not that they’re alive. Being dead is a pretty big part of being a Talon. Problem is, being dead doesn’t stop them.”

“Okay. Well, that’s horrifying.”

Jason made an agreeing noise.

Duke left Jason to checking over the carriage. There was an ornate plinth in the middle of the room. It felt… ceremonial. It was washed in blood. It was going to bring one hell of a migraine later, but Duke concentrated on the moments around the slab.

Tim.

A man in an owl mask.

A knife.

Danny—Danny with wings and white hair and glowing green green green green—

“Signal!”

Duke sucked in a breath of air and blinked at Red Hood’s emotionless mask.

“They stabbed Tim. Danny got to him. I don’t know what happened after.”

“Was Tim alive?”

“I… I don’t know.”

-

Tim’s eyes flew open.

Danny ran taloned fingers carefully through Tim’s now white hair.

“It’s okay hummingbird,” Danny whispered. “I’m so sorry, but I promise it’s going to be okay.”

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

KITTEN IS ASLEEP

What should I write???

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Yeah. Yeah. This is hummingbird Tim. Look how annoyed it looks. Snowcapped hummingbird.

(Photos by @mikemeltonphotography on twitter. I think.)

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

CLOCKKKKKKK! IM FUCKING SOBBBINGGGGGG.... THE BABY AND DANNNY AND DANNY NOT CARING WHO OR WHAT HE KILLS TO SAVE HIS BABY AND ALL HE NEEDS IS TIME TO SAVE HIM??? (Crying and sobbing into the pillow)

((It's wonderfully written and everything is hitting the right spots. Take your time, trying new meds is never a fun ride. Love this clocky. Hope everything works out!))

Birdritch, part 49

masterpost. please no editing or concrit <3 I'm on new medications for my apparently fibromyalgia and maybe lupus and they're kicking my ass with fatigue and brain fog. I didn't want to make y'all wait too long though if I could help it. <3

The ornate grate cracked and splintered under Danny’s talons—hands—talons. He was sharp and soft and feathers and skin and none of it mattered. He would become the Void itself if it would mean saving his hummingbird.

The thing beyond the grate struggled even as one arm—leg—claw pinned it to the ground. It struggled, but Danny did not relinquish his grip, even as he lashed out at the next thing. Those unnatural things—no longer living but beyond the call of death—the stench of them bit at Danny. Their blood boiled on the stone ground. Their horrific not cores shattered under his grip.

He ended them.

He would end all of them for what they had taken.

He had their scent now. They would not escape him. He would hunt down every last one of them for even daring to think that they could lay a finger on one of his people. He would show them the Death that now watched over Gotham. And he would end them.

The things were relentless. They threw themselves at certain death without hesitation. The ones that made it past Danny’s arms—legs—claws tore at his skin. Their gold talons cut into him. His green blood splattered on the stone ground. His screams shattered the air.

But he was relentless too.

He cut through creature after creature after creature. And then…

…and then he found something living.

There was no not core to crush under his claws, only flesh and bone and lungs. It was done before he even registered the difference. Good.

A second living screamed in the corner, curled and clutching at a golden mask. Phantom stalked closer.

“False bird. Liar. Thief! You took what is mine. For what?!”

“Th-the Court of Owls rules Gotham from shadowed perch!” the masked thing stuttered. Ugly, hysterical laughter bubbled up under their words. “Take care, beware, or we will send a Talon for your head!”

“It is my talons now that see over Gotham!”

The laughter bubbled up in one last gurgle of panicked life and then was gone.

In the quiet of the cavern, the only sound drips and drops, there was a wheeze.

“Hummingbird,” Danny whispered.

He rushed towards the sound. Extra limbs disappeared, his form shrunk, his other faded as he moved—fell away like molted feathers. He had a hand again—though tipped with talons and dusted with feathers—as he reached out and touched Tim’s pale cheek.

“Hummingbird?” Danny asked, the name a quiet payer. “No, no, no… Tim, sweetheart. Baby bird, you have to keep breathing. You have to keep living.”

His fingers fluttered over the knife stuck through his humming bird’s chest. The thing that Tim’s life was bleeding out around. The thing that was taking what little time Tim had left…

“…time. Time! Tim, come on sweetheart, hang on, okay? I’m going to… I’m going to fix this. Just stay alive.”

Danny turned and carved a scar through the air, splitting reality into swirling green. He ripped the portal open, large enough that as he carried Tim through it, cradled so carefully in this arms, that nothing bumped or jarred.

It would be alright, they just needed more time.

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Birds and Birds and Bird, part 48

masterpost cw: cannon typical violence, pls no editing or concrit <3

Tim woke up with the smell of chlorophyll still burning his nose. Wherever he was, it was cold. A hard surface bit into the side of his arms. Stone, not concrete, he figured by how smooth it was. There were ropes around his ankles and wrists, because of course there were.

“Timothy Drake, do you know why you are here?” A voice asked, echoing through the space.

Tim managed to twist his head in their direction. Or several thems.

“The Mad Hatter is throwing a masquerade party?” Tim asked with a warble in his voice. He didn’t have to work at seeming terrified. He was terrified. The owl masked figures surrounding him would rightfully terrify anyone who knew. The Court of Owls was very real, and they were there.

“Hardly,” the figure with the gold barn owl mask scoffed. “That fool was a useful source of information and a handy distraction.”

“With his actions in the spotlight, there were plenty of shadows cast for us to act in,” the one with the screech owl mask added with poorly restrained glee.

Tim wished he knew less about what different owls looked like. The rest of the figures stayed deep in the darkness, deep enough that Tim could only assume that they were Talons.

“Why were you after me?” Tim asked “Why am I here?”

“You are here, because a debt is owed,” the barn owl said.

“A debt?” Tim asked even as a worrying though settled into the back of his brain. “I’m seventeen! I don’t have any debts!”

Which was a bit of a lie. Tim, or rather Red Robin, had plenty of favors that he owed and was owed, but none of them were with the fucking Court of Owls. Which only could mean…

“A debt of the blood is a debt of your own,” the screech owl said, still viscously gleeful.

“Jack Drake came to us for the means to save his precious company, a company too much ignored while he was away playing archaeologist. He was to pay us in certain artifacts of interest,” the barn owl explained. “And yet now he is dead, and the debt has gone unpaid.”

“You were his contingency,” the screech owl explained. “The first born given up without hesitation as backing. And now we have come to call.”

“You are finally old enough to be taken for payment,” the barn owl said. He unfolded his arms from the sleeves of his dark robe. An ornately wrought blade glinted in his hand. “You will be our most glorious Talon yet.”

-

He had to focus.

The city was so loud. Loud and busy and full. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

No, no. It wasn’t. Tim was one of his now. Tim was one of his and that meant that Danny could find him. He just needed to focus.

Think of it like a engineer. There’s was too much noise in the data. He had to either remove the noise, which he couldn’t do, or strengthen the signal. The signal, Tim had to have become part of his ‘fraid. Tim was part of Phantom now.

Danny took off running, uncaring of the people he pushed past.

Uncaring of the wings that were bursting from his back.

Of the shouts of surprise.

There!

Down that alley, across the street, another, a turn, an alley—

A dead end.

No. There hidden in the shadows a manhole with a glinting brass owl on it.

Danny yanked the cover off with taloned hands, pulling it off of mechanics that he didn’t have time to figure out.

A dark tunnel was behind it. Danny pulled his wings tight against his back and pressed forward.

-

“So, ah, not actually a debt of blood!” Tim said before he had even managed to get his mind around the fact that they wanted to use him as a Talon. “Jake Drake wasn’t my father, blood wise, which means I wasn’t his first born son.”

“A shame for you that you still care the weight of his name, then,” the barn owl says. They stroke the blade in a way that makes Tim shudder.

“I’m a Wayne now,” Tim argued.

The one with the blade stepped closer.

He just had to stall. Danny must have noticed; he would have called Bruce. All Tim needed was time. He had to keep them talking. “What—what’s a Talon?”

“Our elite assassins. It is an honor to be one of them,” the screech owl said.

“Assassin? You want me to be an assassin?!” Tim asked as he he hadn’t been trained by assassins. The Court of Owls very much did not need to know that about him.

“Not want,” the screech owl cooed, “We will make you into one. You will be our Talon. Golden and glorious. You will finally have a worthwhile purpose.”

“Happy with my current purpose!” Tim said sincerely. “I’m really don’t see how I can be an assassin. I mean, the only sport I do is skateboarding! And I still fall off that thing!”

The screeched owl chuckled. The sound was distorted by the mask and the subterranean space. “We will take you and train you and mold you into one.”

“It’s quite a process,” the barn out said calmly, “but first you have to be dead.”

-

Each branch of the tunnels looked the same. But they weren’t. There had to be a way to tell. There had to be a way to get to Tim. He had to focus.

Danny closed his eyes. He needed to stop relying on what he saw. He needed to focus on what he felt.

Dashed down the tunnels, following the tug of connection. Wings pressed against the walls of the tunnel. His many hands—talons—hands clawed against the brick and concrete, pulling him forward rapidly.

Tim was HIS and he was close.

-

“Wait!” Tim struggled against the ropes. Secret identities by damned, Tim needed to be gone now. “I have to be more use in some other way. Drake Industries—”

“Is a subsidiary of Wayne Enterprise now.”

“But I have a trust fund!”

“And we have ways of getting that money if we had need of it. I assure you, it isn’t hard.”

“I—”

“We already have plans for you. After all, who better to slip through Bruce Wayne’s defenses than a long missing son?” the screech owl cackled. “And with you, the only heir who would have been able to do anything of use with Wayne Enterprise gone…”

“Surely you can see now, why it has to be you.”

“Please! My real father—”

“Your real father will have a son to mourn,” the barn owl hissed.

The way the ornate knife slipped between Tim’s ribs was almost gentle. It pulled a soft, soundless gasp from Tim.

He wondered if it would be he last.

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Bird Flight, Part 47

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

“Are you still feeling like you want to go back to the Manor tomorrow for Sunday dinner?” Danny asked.

They were out at one of Danny’s favorite cafes for breakfast, needing both the nourishment and the wonderful blessing of caffeine. They had spent the last few days basically hiding in Danny’s apartment, and it was a literal breath of fresh air to be out. Danny hoped that it also spoke well about Tim’s mental state.

Tim sucked down the last of his sugary monstrosity before, instead of answering, he asked, “Can you come with me and stay for dinner?”

“Absolutely,” Danny said without any hesitation. “We’ll need to take a taxi or something though, I don’t have a car.”

“I can call Alfred, or I guess… there’s always Dick,” Tim said with a little frown, “but he’ll ask questions. Jason has a car now, I think? I’ll text him later and ask.”

Danny gave a little nod and finished off his last bit fruit. He always liked to save a strawberry for last. “Alright, but if it’s too much for anyone, and that includes you, we can just take a taxi.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tim agreed. He pushed back his chair. “I’m going to go wash my hands. That sandwich was great, but so messy. Are you still good to go to that hobby story you were talking about?”

“I have plenty of energy still.” Danny made sure to accompany his words with a smile, wanting to assure Tim that he could manage. He was a little on the achy side, sure, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t just been sitting and enjoying the late morning for the last half hour.

Tim eyed him a moment before nodding and getting up. As Tim weaved his way through the tables towards the back of the restaurant, Danny pulled out his phone to update Bruce.

‘Tim has been fed and caffeinated,’ Danny wrote. ‘Plan atm is to be there tomorrow for dinner. Both of us.’

‘How is he doing? How are you doing?’ Bruce quickly sent, one after another.

‘Tim’s better. He’ll be okay,’ Danny assured Bruce first. ‘I’ll be ok too. Just sore still.’

‘If I can do anything…’

‘Of cou—’ Danny had started to type when it felt like a bucked of ice water had been dumped over him. For a moment he was left gasping and struggling to keep a hold of his phone.

Something was wrong.

Something was wrong with HIS PEOPLE.

Danny swiped the group chat open without a thought. And then stopped. This wasn’t Sam or Tucker or Jazz. This was close. This was…

Tim.

Danny jolted out of his seat. He barreled past the other tables to the back of the cafe. The bathroom was empty. The back door was open. There was a smear of blood.

“Danny?” Bruce answered the call immediately.

“They took Tim.”

“What—”

“I don’t know who! They took Tim from the cafe. They must have been there watching. I have this—I have this panic button from, um, Batman, but it’s daytime. I don’t know if…” Danny stared down at the button he had pressed down with a trembling thumb. The rest of his keys cut into his hand. “I don’t know if…”

“Stay there,” Bruce ordered. “Danny, just stay there. I’ll make sure that—”

Danny hung up the call. He couldn’t listen to Bruce and focus. He had to focus. He couldn’t expect another hero to come to the rescue. He had to find Tim.

Tim was HIS and he would find him.

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

OMG Danny being a gentle parent that communicates is adorable and much needed in the batfamily.

(He is so doing what Jazz used to do for him. kdjdnsksks)

Birb Thoughts, P 45

masterpost so I maybe kept writing last night. please no editing or concrit <3

It turned out that Danny was actually right. Tim hated that, a little, but mostly because it meant that he was happily doing a puzzle. He’d come to Danny for help, or something, after all, so he wasn’t mad that it worked. Just… it was a basic puzzle. Damian would mock him if he the kid knew.

Fuck, Damian. They were going to be right back to square one, weren’t they? With the stabbing and murder attempts. Damian was going to hate him again.

“Want to talk about what just went through that head of yours?” Danny asked as he dropped another handful of background pieces into the right bowl.

Tim took it and moved around the different colors idly with his finger. “I don’t know,” Tim said honestly.

“Okay,” Danny said back easily and returned to sorting.

“It’s Damian,” Tim sighed, because apparently he did want to talk about it. “He had a lot of problems when he first came here. Like, a lot is such a huge understatement for the problems he had. His other side of the family is really fucked up. They’re controlling and put only loyalty above efficiency in serving the family. Loyalty means blood ties.”

“Ah… and now what he knew as blood ties has changed?”

“Yeah, for the worst. You don’t know how much weight Damian puts on being the blood son. It’s something he has even if he fucks up. It’s there no matter what. It’s a way he’s better than the rest of us. Like, not as…” Tim sighed again. “I thought at first it was a superiority thing, but it’s more like a security blanket. And now that’s going to be gone.”

“Not gone,” Danny corrected, “just different. He’s still a blood son. It’s just now he has you as blood too.”

“Except he’s always been worse about me. If, like, Dick was the blood son it might not matter that much, Damian loves Dick. But it’s me. Damian has just started liking me,” Tim said.

“That can’t be true.”

“It is! His grandfather has this weird obsession with me and my skill set. I’m not blood but I come from a powerful family. And I’m a lot like Bruce, which, wow do we get now I guess, but he’s always put me in this pedestal,” Tim tried to explain without explaining. “It’s always pissed Damian off. And now I’ll be a blood son and the oldest. This is just going to make it worse again.”

Danny gave a thoughtful hum as he frowned down at the piece in his hand. “Asteroid or planet?”

Tim leaned over to look at it. “Planet.”

Danny dropped the piece in the bowl Tim had. “So, here’s the thing, humming bird… I’m not saying that it’s not going to be tough or that Damian won’t regress some. I know he has a temper and I know that gets in the way of showing how much he cares, but Damian cares about you. I don’t have a single doubt of that after seeing you two together. And as long as you both can remember that you care about each other, it will sort itself out.”

“Love conquers all?” Tim asked with a sad little smile.

Danny snorted. “Hardly. I love my parents and they love me, but that doesn’t mean that they weren’t bad parents or that I have to choose to have a relationship with them. But Damian doesn’t just love you, he cares about you. And caring about someone goes a really, really long way.”

Tim blinked down at the bowl in his hands. “Oh. Oh, that’s… yeah.”

“How about we get some dinner ordered and then you can start sorting that background bowl,” Danny suggested.

After a deep breath, Tim nodded. “Yeah… I think I want Thai.”

“Great, I love Thai.”

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Something something speed title here Ch 1, P 4

Danny takes a long sip of the coco. He feels better almost instantly. “Sorry.”

“All crash, dude!” Bart folds his legs under him and plops down on the ground in front of Danny. “You were, like, out naked in the cold rain all night!”

“I wasn’t—” Danny frowns and takes another drink of the coco. “I was in my tent, not out on the rain. And I was only naked because my clothing got caught in the rain.”

“Still naked,” Bart chirps.

Danny just sighs and decides it’s best to shut up and drink the coco.

It was very good.

Wally leaves the boys together, trusting Bart to be able to keep up a constant stream of chatter to ‘James’. If nothing else, Wally was sure that the distraction would be good for the kid.

“So,” Wally starts when he joins Barry and Iris at the grill, “James is absolutely not his real name.”

“Yeah, figured that was the case,” Barry agrees. “Is he doing better? What was the freak out about?”

Wally sighs. “His parents. He said he’d learned survival since he was little. I asked if it was from his parents and that’s why they’re okay with him being out here alone.”

Barry gives a little snort and stirs the hash. “Going for blunt, huh?”

“He’s a kid in the woods alone." I wanted to get to the bottom of things quick enough to help. Or, not the bottom of things, just…” Wally sighs and scrubs his hands through his hair. “I wanted to get to the facts about how much help he needs quick enough to help.”

“Of course you did, Wally,” Iris says. “I just think it’s pretty obvious after that little bit of a panic attack that we need… less speed and more grace, which I know is not the way of any of my boys. But I trust that all of you can manage.”

“For a panicked kid? Of course,” Barry agrees easily. “You know we’re not all speed, honey, or that this is the first hurting kid we’re dealing with.”

“Sure,” Iris agrees. She steals a piece of potato, tries it, and tosses in some more seasoning into the pan. “But usually there’s emergency services or family to hand the kid over to.”

That makes both Barry and Wally pause. Barry stirs the hash thoughtfully. “Park rangers?”

“Barry,” Iris hisses.

“Kidding!” Barry quickly says, hands (and spatula) raised.

Iris smacks Barry on the shoulder anyways.

“Kiding,” Barry repeats. “We’re not just going to leave the kid out here when he obviously ran away from home.”

“Or was kicked out,” Wally adds. He shrugs when the others looked at him. “His socks are bi pride colored. He might have been kicked out for being queer—or is running away from a worse reaction.”

“Poor kid,” Barry sighs. “I can’t believe that there are still people acting like that.”

Wally sighs back. “Too many. But we can just… keep him around here at our camp and then take him back to the city with us, right? I know you guys have Bart now, but, I don’t know. I have a couch at least in my apartment? That’s better than nothing.”

“He’s still a kid we don’t know,” Iris reminds them, “and we’re still people that he doesn’t know. It might not work out the way you wan’t.”

“But,” Wally hedges, “if it does?”

“If it does, then we’ll make sure that he has room, however it works out,” Iris says with a squeeze to Wally’s arm. “Just make him feel welcome, and maybe pause on trying to find out all the answers right away, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Wally agrees with a little smile.

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Oh boy.... Danny, baby is in crisis isn't he?

oh no.....

Danny & JL, Black, O, Tapping, @grey-lysander

Barry was going to go insane.

There was a tapping sound. Which, really, wouldn’t be the end of the world if he was on the world. But no, he was in space on the Watchtower and weird mechanical noises should not be happening.

Worse, no one else seemed to hear it.

Well, not the people he’d asked at least. Diana didn’t. None of the varieties of ‘John’ did. Dick didn’t—though he might have actually tried to figure it out but it was finally his turn to sit in medbay with Wally. Wally would probably be able to hear it, but again, medbay.

The kid would be fine, he was just drugged to the gills with some pollen that they couldn’t just speedily metabolize away. Barry couldn’t visit him either just in case it was some weird Speed Force affecting thing. But he didn’t want to go to far.

And now he was going to be annoyed to death by the tapping instead.

“Hal, I’m telling you, there’s tapping,” Barry whined.

“Uh-hu,” Hal replied absently and without an ounce of compassion.

“There is! It’s like…” Barry tilted his head and really listened to the tapping. He did his best to mimic it in a more standard human time by tapping it out on the table. Da da da daaa daaa daaa da da da.

Hal’s head shot up from the crossword he’d been poking at. “Wait, what?”

“I told you, the tapping!”

“No, tap it again,” Hal ordered, leaning forward. “It’s that exactly?”

“Yeah…?” Barry listened to be sure before tapping it out again.

Da da da daaa daaa daaa da da da.

Hal stared at Barry’s hand with a level of concern that concerned Barry. “Barry, Barry, that’s S.O.S. That’s not just tapping, that’s a message.”

“Well,” Barry said after a pause. “Fuck.”

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Danny/Duke, Black, O, A camera shutter noise, @thevikingfish-nimhrodell

It’s the tell-tale sound of a photo being taken that finally pulls Danny out of his thoughts and back into the rest of the world. Somehow, it’s gotten to be the late afternoon. The library is a wash of golden light and there might even be bird song outside. Its hard to hear over the cicadas.

None of that really is Danny’s focus, though. All of his attention is on the fact that his boyfriend is sitting across from him now, phone still raised from just having taken a photo. It makes Danny blush.

Duke snaps another photo.

“Duke,” Danny mumbles and rubs at the back of his neck.

“What?” Duke asks innocently, though he does finally lower his phone. “You’re too pretty not to take a picture of.”

Danny’s snort says everything he thinks about that. Maybe, maybe he used to be a little pretty, but then his death delayed growth spurt hit and now he was… well, it wasn’t pretty. He was too large, too clumsy, too… much. And certainly not pretty.

“Hey.” Duke reaches out and takes Danny’s hand, twining their fingers together. “You are. I like the way you can just wrap me up in your arms. And your jawline is really something.”

“Duke,” Danny whines with a deepening blush.

“I’ll keep saying it all until you believe it,” Duke says with a shrug. “I like your hands too.”

Danny snorts again, but it’s much less derisive this time. “Yeah, that one I know. You like them a little too much.”

“There is no too much,” Duke says loftily. “Now pack up so we can go to catch a movie before dinner. There’s a double feature of those old space adventure movies you like so much, but we’ll have to hurry if we’re going to make it.”

“Wait, what—Captain Starshot? Fuck yeah!” Danny hurries to pack up. “How did you even find out about this?”

“I have my ways.”

“Tim told you.”

“Tim told me.”

[chronicallyinsane-fandombitch]

Adopt Danny operation is forming in their heads, I just know it.

Adorable promptalomp, would love a continuation of this if you feel up to it!!

No rush! Make sure to take care of yourself Clocky!!!

Danny & Flashfam, White, X, rain on a tent, @wandixx

Danny’s pretty sure that he’s in Missouri. There’s the start of mountains, at least, and he doesn’t think he’s traveled far enough to be in Arkansas yet. That’s the Ozarks, right? He thinks that’s the Ozarks. Whatever they are, it’s way easier to stay hidden here than in the flat planes of south Illinois.

The small, pup tent from his go bag has been set up against one of the rocky cliff sides, a pitiful attempt to keep the rain from battering it as badly. It’s something, at least.

He’s dry, at least.

So what if his clothing is getting wet instead of drying? He’d just washed it anyways. It getting more wet wouldn’t matter. He just needs some sun for it to dry out before he has to move on. Which is… sometime.

His stomach whines loudly. He takes another tiny bit of the survival bar and watches the water drip slowly through the filter on his bottle. It’s something, at least.

Danny jolts awake to a 'sprog' sound that’s strait out of a cartoon. A body hits the ground with a startled squeak. Before he can even think about it, Danny is out of his tent, baton expanded and ready to his side.

Except it’s not a a GIW agent.

It’s a kid.

A kid like him with bright red hair, a scattering of freckles, and a bright red blush.

“Dude,” the kid squeaks, “why are you naked?!”