#Almanac | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mokulule · 1 year ago

Text

Almanac Chapter 5

DP x DC Dead on Main First | Masterpost

Chapter 5 - December 10th, Total Lunar Eclipse

Time passed. Jason still dreamt of Gotham, little glimpses of his siblings patrolling the Alley viewed through the ever present fog. Never Bruce, never Batman.

Jason really didn’t know how to interpret those dreams. Was it wistful thinking to dream that Batman stayed out of the Alley, like Red Hood demanded? That they kept going as if Jason would be coming back? As if he was just temporarily on a mission out of town?

Or was it just his brain refusing to touch the tangled ball of emotion Bruce evoked even in his dreams?

Thankfully, none of the Alley dreams had been near as dramatic as that first nightmare. Jason was pretty sure he’d go insane if that happened, it was bad enough that first nightmare haunted him in his waking hours. He couldn’t let go the feeling that Dick had been hurt.

That it was his fault for not being there.

It was far from the first time he’d ever dreamt of Dick or one of the others getting hurt, but usually he could just do a check-up, agree to one of the multiple social invitations he most often ignored. Reassure himself they were alive, unhurt and just as obnoxious as usual and go on with his life.

He didn’t have that option.

If they died, would they come find him? He harshly pushed that thought away and focused back on Fright Knight. Not focusing properly on Fright Knight usually meant broken ribs and he was only just in time to jump aside.

One positive was that the conversation about the All-Blades had won him a measure of respect from the Knight. He’d acquired a paired set of practice blades that he now allowed Jason to use like now, though he still drilled and taught the use of a singular broadsword.

It made the training more varied, and dare Jason say it, sometimes even enjoyable. Even if Jason had the distinct feeling Fright Knight wanted to train him for the single purpose of beating him in a more even match.

The knight had even on one memorable occasion admitted that Jason might have beaten him when he was first unsealed some years ago, before he’d regained his full strength. But of course as he was now with his “mortal weaknesses” Jason didn’t stand a chance.

Still, Jason was improving. He could feel it. He had an easier time following the pace the Knight set and it wasn’t just the Knight moving at a more human speed. The fact that with the two sword style he could now attack and defend with both hands also helped bridge the gap.

Jason attacked with a downward slash, instantly dancing around the counter.

“You are not a ghost,” Fright Knights started, “but your ghostly energy is strong enough to afford you some powers. Of course not to the level of our King.”

Jason frowned, not understanding the necessity to compare him to the King. He decided to focus on the important fact. “What powers?”

“Merely the most basic.”

“That is entirely unhelpful.” Jason stepped forward and caught the overhead slash in a cross-guard before stepping to the side directing it to the ground.

“Ghost powers: invisibility, intangibility and if you’re lucky some measure of flight,” the knight elaborated haughtily.

And okay, maybe Jason felt a bit stupid now for not realizing what he’d meant with basic powers.

He dodged this time instead of blocking and stepped within the knight’s reach aiming his blade for an unprotected armpit. As if in demonstration the sword went right through him in a ripple, before he solidified and drove his armored shoulder into Jason’s chest, knocking him to the ground.

His breath was knocked out of him and for a moment he stared up into the building lunar eclipse steadily coloring the moon an ominous red-orange.

Then, he had to move!

He rolled out of the way of the downward stab and pushed himself back up to his feet, just in time to deflect another blow. The knight had upped the speed.

“What’s the point of mentioning these potential powers?” He said as he dodged another way too close call - hoping against hope to distract the knight.   “You should use them.” Fright Knight said with another slash which Jason was fool enough to parry. The force of the blow reverberated up his arm and it was only sheer stubbornness that allowed him to hold onto the blade. He was not going to be able to swing the blade for a while.

“Shouldn’t you teach me then?” Jason yelled behind himself as he ran, he had to get distance. He had to come up with a plan.

Fright Knight laughed menacingly, and his eyes blazed green. “Powers develop best under stress.”

Jason felt himself pale. Oh shit.

Breathlessly he dodged into a doorway. The open courtyard was only an advantage for an opponent who could fly. He needed somewhere good for an ambush, somewhere to hide. His heart hammered in his chest as he ran through the castle, trying for the most complicated path he could, slamming doors after him to slow the chasing knight down.

Come on come on come on!

Phantom had told Fright Knight to keep him alive, but that was a really wide set of parameters in Jason’s experience!

The hallway curved and suddenly Jason slammed against a wall - a dead end. No no no. He cursed internally knowing too well to say anything out loud. His hands moved desperately across the stone wall; there was no hint of a secret path forward and he didn’t have time to double back. Fright Knight’s ominous laughter was too close and this hallway was too cramped to give him much movement.  The castle still disliked him.

Fright Knight came around the corner, he loomed bigger than Jason was used to. There was no escape. What wasn’t blocked with his body was blocked by the purple flames of his cloak. He drew back his sword.

“The chase is over.”

Desperately he raised his arms, though his right arm still felt dead and wouldn’t be of any use.

The sword rushed down towards him.

He screamed and then he was falling backwards, through the wall, through the floor. And another floor, floor after floor after floor. He rolled and tumbled, trying to reach for anything to stop his fall, but everything slipped through his fingers. He’d lost his swords somewhere unable to hold on to them - never lose grip on your weapons - but he hadn’t they’d gone through his fingers. This was intangibility, but how to stop it!

Stress had triggered it, he needed to calm down. Breathe slowly, count: one - two - three -

A staircase rushed up to meet him. He hit it, painfully solid. Something gave in his shoulder and then his ribs when he curled instinctively to protect his head as he tumbled the rest of the way down.

He finally landed on a cold stone floor. There was a sense of alarm around him. Not his own, no, he was just glad to no longer be moving; even if his right shoulder hurt like a bitch and he definitely had broken ribs, but he wasn’t too out of breath so probably not a punctured lung. Grimacing from the pain he pushed his upper body up with his left hand and looked around.

First rule was always know your surroundings.

There was a sarcophagus, black with green and red detailing, in the middle of the room, lit only by flickering green torchlight. There was something there. A green haze lazily swirled across the floor.

Help.

Help? Jason got to his feet with a groan. He felt so heavy. Supporting his right arm with his left he walked slowly closer to the sarcophagus. Had he seen it before? Before he could contemplate further there was the voice again.

I’m trapped.

There was someone inside the sarcophagus! Jason studied it closer, noticing a keyhole. He looked around but there didn’t seem to be any key.

Help me and I will get you home.

Home. The thought sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to go home so desperately. But he didn’t know how to help. There had to be a key somewhere, but it would be stupid to keep it here. It could be anywhere in the castle, not that the castle would help him anyway.

His eyes fell on where his left hand cradled his arm. He let go with a wince at the extra bad throb in his broken shoulder and raised his left hand in front of his face. An idea niggled at him. Would it even do anything? He didn’t know. He recalled the sensation of slipping through solid matter and saw his hand go slightly translucent.

Could he?

Slowly he reached towards the sarcophagus-

“Jason don’t!”

Jason snapped his head to the side. The King hovered at the bottom of the stairs now, hands raised in a calming motion.

“Jason don’t,” he repeated quieter, a note of pleading in his voice, worry.

Two things occurred to Jason in that fraction of a moment. One, if the Ghost King was worried whatever was in this sarcophagus might actually have the power to send him home. Two, this intangibility might just do something.

He plunged his hand into the sarcophagus.

For a moment nothing happened. It was a long enough moment for Jason to feel like an idiot, standing there with his broken arm and the other phased into a freaking sarcophagus.

Then, an odd cold-hot sensation passed up his left arm. He was displaced, put in the back seat of his own body as something else took the wheels.

Good, now let’s take a look at what we’ve got.

The sensation left faster than it had arrived and Jason had only barely taken a breath with lungs that were his own again, before a massive fist grabbed him around the throat and lifted him off his feet. His hands reached instinctively to remove the pressure around his throat. The cry of pain at moving his broken shoulder was only a wheeze past the chokehold. His left arm was just as useless the hold wouldn’t budge, no matter how he scrabbled and dug in his nails in for purchase.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to call this pitiful creature,” the voice boomed both inside and outside Jason.

A huge grey, scarred face missing the left eye came into Jason’s blurry vision. There was only cruelty to be found there.

”Ah, you didn’t bind his will.” The great head turned, revealing a mane of Lazarus green hair. “Tell me, Phantom, do you like your slaves disobedient? Is that why?”

“He is no slave,” the king, Phantom growled, tightly controlled. Glaciers cracked in the distance and when Jason tried looking at him he wasn’t sure if it was just his blurry vision or if he was blending into the darkness around him. “Let him go!”

That last word rang in Jason’s head like a bell rung right right next to his ears.

“But don’t you see, ghost child? This mortal’s life belongs to the Ghost King. The fact that I could call to him at all proves I am still the king. I will kill him and you can watch, before I take my crown back.”

The hold on his throat tightened. Jason kicked and scratched but nothing helped. He couldn’t breathe. Dark spots danced in his vision, growing with every moment. Noise rushed in his ears. He was- he was going to die!

No! He had to do something- he couldn’t let it end like this.

The hold loosened suddenly and Jason fell to his knees. He gasped, drew air into his burning chest. It was only his training that had him instantly tracking for what had happened. He blinked and squinted until his vision cleared.

Above him Phantom had the old ghost king’s wrist in a large white tipped clawed hand, he tightened his grip and the giant man fell to one knee with a grimace.

Phantom’s grin was too wide, full of too many pointy teeth, as he seemed to grow, and loomed over him.

“You miscalculated Pariah,” Phantom snarled, form rippling, cape flaring. “I am no longer fourteen year old and newly dead. Just because some mortal realities have not been updated on the change in power, doesn’t mean shit!”

He paused to lean his head closer.

“I am the King of the Infinite Realms, and the Realms are behind me.”

Jason found himself grabbed gently in dark tendrils and moved towards the wall, even as Phantom continued his verbal onslaught:

“You’ve lost your crown, your power and your loyalty. You are no king and never will be again.”

“Please,” Pariah begged, terror in his eyes.

“No. Jason traded his life to me. He is under my protection. You harmed him, you will never harm another being ever again.”

The next several moments was a whirlwind of too many claws and teeth for Jason’s mind to comprehend. Too many eyes. Green spattered wetly across the floors, the walls, the ceiling, and across Jason’s face to drip down his chin.

And the screams, oh God, the screams. It was entirely one-sided and the screams chilled Jason to the core. For all that he was no longer in a chokehold he might as well have been, because no sound, no breath could make its way out the tightness in his throat.

Finally something bright and glowing red ripped free sent flying by long fingered claws, for a moment it floated above them weightless, then Phantom’s great big maw slammed shut around it.

It crunched.

And for one dazzling second, the screams quieted. Then the whole castle shuddered. Jason covered his mouth, afraid he was going to vomit. He didn’t even know what about it caused that reaction, he wasn’t usually squeamish with violence. Only his gut told him he had witnessed something terrible.

The silence was loud in the room only broken by the occasional drop of green that fell from the ceiling to land on the cobblestone floor with loud plops.

The writhing mass of shadows and claws had stilled into a dark vaguely humanoid hunched figure. The black tendrils laid flat and motionless like a long, tattered cape spread across the floor. The glowing neon green pool left from what used to be Pariah was vivid against the black.

The tendrils around Jason didn’t hold him in place anymore, just rested one him. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to move. One tendril moved then, stroking gently and infusing soothing cold against Jason’s bruised throat. Jason gasped quietly and it was like his first real breath in hours.

“I refuse to regret it,” Phantom’s voice said then coming from all around, yet moving Jason’s attention from the tendril to the figure. “Ending another ghost is taboo for a reason. But-“ The figure turned the head revealing a pair of burning green eyes even as hundreds opened up into existence around them, all looking at Jason - perceiving him.

“He threatened you.”

Jason’s breath stopped again. There was something to be said there. Something about how the king had committed taboo for Jason. Something about how he had not just stopped the threat for now, locked it back up to escape another day; he had ended it.

Jason had never been worth that before.

There was a building pressure behind his eyes and in his chest. It was a tidal wave of old hurts. He fought against the urge to cry. Despite his efforts, a whimper escaped the back of his throat. Mortified, he closed his eyes and pressed back against the wall, he couldn’t look at Phantom’s reaction. He was terrified of judgment, or worse: pity.

“I am sorry.” His voice was but a whisper this time, as if it would prevent it from resonating in Jason’s bones. “I know I am too much, but I cannot reign it in right now.”

The tendril at his neck seemed to tremble as it stroked his bruised throat again ever so careful. “I thought- I feared I would be too late,” he explained.

And suddenly Jason realized, Phantom thought he was afraid of him. He could sense his fear, he’d told Jason once, but he couldn’t tell what he was afraid of. And yes, Jason had been afraid once, you don’t nearly have your brain melted without some sort of response, but that was not the case now. Jason couldn’t let that misunderstanding stand.

The tendrils were retreating. Jason grabbed the one that had been at his throat and forcing himself to meet what seemed to be the main pair of eyes he pressed it back to his throat.

Something passed between them, something Jason couldn’t describe. The air itself both softened and sharpened in intensity. Phantom floated closer. The tendrils were back, cold and soothing. If Jason reached out now he could touch the main darkness that was Phantom. It would take so little. Phantom’s eyes were wide and vulnerable. Jason’s breath hitched.

Something had to give.

“Great One!” A deep voice boomed in horror from the stairs, breaking the moment.

Phantom snapped his head towards the intruder. Jason gasped for air. It felt like he’d been dropped into an ice bath so suddenly was every ache and pain in his body brought back - his shoulder outright throbbed - only nothing had happened, nothing, except Phantom’s attention was no longer on him.

“Frostbite, Jason needs medical attention!” Phantom’s voice was full of relief, his features morphed gradually back into the facsimile of human he usually wore though he still seemed extra wispy. The tendrils however were gone.

Phantom’s attention turned back on Jason, he didn’t see the way the large white furred and horned creature looked around the green soaked room in fear.

Phantom made to reach for him with clawless hands, then drew back embarrassed, actually floating a step back.

“Apologies,” he said. Jason could almost see the way he turned back into the distant king straightening his shoulders and schooling his face into impassivity, like a cloak he wore - or armor. Protecting the vulnerability Jason had glimpsed.

Realizing no ‘Frostbite’ had come any closer, the king looked back over his shoulder, “Frostbite?”

“I’m coming, Great One.” The creature bowed his head as he made his way over carefully, floating to avoid the puddles.

Judging from the frown on Phantom’s face, that was not normal behavior.

“Frostbite…”

“No need to worry, Great One, I’ll make sure your friend is seen to. You can get back to the council.”

Phantom actually grimaced at that. Then he met Jason’s eyes for a heart stopping moment, holding him captive, then he looked away.

“I will see you later.”

Then he left, leaving Jason with whatever Frostbite was. One thing was sure though from the furrowed eyebrows and the sharp fangs bared at him - Frostbite didn’t like him.

A chapter finished! Look at me not working on my Dead on MAYn prompts -_-'

Anyways things are happening? Jason and Danny had a moment! Neither is really sure what kind of moment since they were interrupted, but hey, still a moment. I hope you enjoyed Pariah getting what was coming to him :) Anyways comments are greatly appreciated, makes it feel less like I'm screaming into the void.

(you can subscribe for updates at the masterpost)

#Almanac #dp x dc #dead on main #summonings have consequences

318 notes · View notes

mokulule · 2 years ago

Text

Almanac - Chapter 1

Fandom: DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Masterpost Summary: Summoning extradimensional beings was never without a cost. Jason didn’t consider himself particularly knowledgeable when it came to magic, but that he knew. Desperate situations however called for desperate measures and the Justice League was desperate with Trigon suddenly allied to ghosts of all things. Summoning the Ghost King in that context even seemed like a sensible choice.

For better or worse John Constantine was the expert on those kinds of deals.

At least when his information wasn’t out of date.

Chapter 1 - September 23rd Fall Equinox

The summoning circle blazed in tall green flames. John grit his teeth against the terrible heat. Sweat ran down his brow, but he barely even dared blink. Across from him Zatanna was equally affected. This was like no summoning he’d ever done before. Normally the circle and the ingredients in a summoning ritual would do most of the work, that was the whole point. But this, John thought, as he doubled down on his hold on the magic, this was like riding a dragon. It was almost like the Ghost King really didn’t want to be summoned.

What else could cause this?

But they couldn’t give up, the fate of the world depended on it. Zatanna was not looking good, John didn’t suppose he himself was looking chipper either right now, but he had done things to increase his magic power Zatanna never had, because she was too good, and she was flagging. John growled, he’d be dammed a hundred more times if he lost her to this ritual.

Come on you bloody bastard!

A green rip opened in the middle of the circle with a terrible screeching sound. There was yelling and ears being covered behind him by the Justice League, but John couldn’t focus on that, it was not over. They were nearly there. A flickering dark shadowy form was getting sucked upwards through the rip. Wind rushed around the room, throwing papers and small objects around the room; The bucket of stag blood they’d used for the circle splattered onto Green Lantern judging by the sound of disgust. As long and tiresome as the ritual had been as suddenly it was over. Like an elastic band finally snapping, the shadow was pulled all the way through, the rip closed and the flames died.

“ ̵̨̜̩̜̖͈̺͈͎̜̩̻̖͔̗̺̳̘͈̳̖̩͂̄̏̇͂̂̃͒͌̊̓́̿̽̽��̚͜ ̶̧̡̢̜̯̘͔̺̻̖͚͚͍̪̼͙̲̭͌͛̈́̈́̆̀͝N̵̢̢̧͓̩̱̮̰̪̘͙̹͍̪̤̼̺̑̀̓̔̔̍̂̍͛̈̈́͋͛͆̆͌̌̃̀̄̕Ơ̵̡̱͕̬͕͎̞̞̟͔͇̽̀́̇̐̂͂́̈́̈́̾͜͠ͅ ̷̢͖̯̰̙̥̤͔̹̜̦̙͙̲̪̲̯̗̙̦͓̜̓̋̂͋͘̚͝ ̶̭̺̣̻͖͗̍̔͂ ̶̡̰̞̹͇͓̫̜͖͛́̀̒̃͆̀͑́̅̂͌̿͐̚͝͝.”

The word rung in the sudden silence like a bell, cracked like glaciers, skittered across their mortal senses like small needles. John fell to his knees clutching his chest. It was so cold it was hard to breathe. Teeth chattering he forced himself to look up. The shadow coalesced into something with too long limbs, too many joints, claws, teeth. It had gained a blazing white flame and underneath there were two pools of green.

It observed them with an intensity like a thousand eyes on them, then it drew in on itself, getting smaller until it was more person shaped and the cold disappeared.

John gasped in relief. He wasn’t the only one. He looked to Zatanna, she met his eyes with a pale and tense nod. She was alright.

“Aaaaargh!” The frustrated scream had them quickly focused back on the circle. The green pools, now more eye shaped glared back at them all.

“The fucking Justice League of course, who else would summon me to save the world?” The shadow for lack of better words paced back and forth in the air, then spun on John. “And you John Constantine should know better.”

There was a pool of dread in his stomach and every single backup plan vanished from his mind as those toxic green eyes held him trapped. “If you have a problem that calls for the assistance of a ghost, why do you not ask a ghost you know? Why in the Realms would you summon the Ghost King? Of all the bullheaded…” The angry words devolved into an angry growly mutter too low for anyone to hear the words, but it was a sound that grated in their bones. And the Ghost King resumed their pacing.

“Deadman is-“

“I’m talking about Phantom,” the king snapped.

“Phantom?” John repeated baffled, meeting the equally baffled eyes of Zatanna. The friendly spirit from small Amity Park? “No offense, your Majesty, but Phantom is small fry compared to this.”

“Full offense,” The King growled. “I am Phantom.”

With a bright flash, suddenly there was Phantom. The surprisingly human looking ghost, who would have fit in perfectly amongst the Justice League standing outside the circle with his white highlighted tight black suit and the logo on his chest. Right now his usually friendly face was drawn into a glare.

It was then, when it clicked with a small delay in his brain that Phantom was the Ghost King, that John Constantine realized how much he’d fucked up.

Oo o oO

Danny was livid. He had done his very best to resist this summoning, but of course summonings weren’t meant to be resisted and with John Constantine and Zatanna Zatara two of the Justice League Dark’s most powerful magic users being the ones reeling him in like a fucking fish, it was no wonder he hadn’t succeeded. This was a disaster. Why did they put him in this situation?

“We thought you were a city spirit…” Constantine trailed off helplessly.

And that had Danny gaping. They thought… how? why? He was confused, but most of all-

“Excuse me, did I introduce myself as Amity? No, I did not.”

Of all the stupid things to think. City spirits were some of the proudest ghosts around, to even think a city spirit would introduce themselves by anything other than their name was beyond moronic. And last he checked his hometown wasn’t called freaking Phantomville.

“We thought, since you never left the city-“ Zatanna cut herself off when Danny swiveled his glare on her.

“It. Is. My. Haunt,” Danny hissed enunciating each word clearly, the lights in the room flickered. “Did you not at all think it was weird that a city spirit-“ he made quotation marks around the words- “was visible to regular people?”

“We figured it was because of all the death magic in the air,” fucking Constantine said and Danny keened in despair. It was a sound just at the edge of human hearing, and most of them really couldn’t hear anything of it aside from a very high pitched tone that had the entire group flinching. Superman though, not only flinched but also took a step back covering his mouth, he looked sick.

“You could have asked, like normal people. What did I do to give you the impression you couldn’t just ask?” He dug his hands into his hair and tugged, doubled over and took a deep calming breath.

“Okay,” he forced his voice chipper, “so we’ve established you’re morons and now you’re all going to pay the price.”

There was a moment of silence as they all took that in and Danny’s eyes ran over their faces: Constantine, Zatanna, the big seven of the original Justice League and would you look at that Batman brought a bunch of his brood along, one of which was an actual child. Danny whimpered.

“I don’t really understand the problem,” the Flash stepped up to the circle in, well, a flash. “If you can help us then what does it matter that we summoned you instead of going to you?”

“It matters,” Danny said rubbing the bridge of his nose, “because you’ve gone and made it official. You didn’t ask small time ghost hero Phantom for help saving the world, you went and summoned the High King of the Infinite Realms.” He waved a hand allowing the green flaming crown to manifest over his head and the ring to appear on his right hand, the long starry night cape settled over his shoulders with a familiar weight like freshly fallen snow.

“The fact that I am one and the same is irrelevant. Intent is the most important thing in magic.”

“So we can just unsummon you?” The Flash suggested, looking from Danny to Constantine and Zatanna who both looked away.

Danny chuckled humorlessly. He touched a hand to his chest pushing energy into the chains binding him, so they could all see the chains going from him to each and everyone of them.

“We are already bound in a pre-contract, that’s what a summoning is.”

Oo o oO

Jason looked down at the Lazarus green glowing chain, going from his chest to the Ghost King. From each of his brothers including the brat’s - the brat, who actually looked scared. No matter, his maturity and upbringing he was still just a kid. Anger flared in his chest, but before he could do anything Bruce stepped forward.

“John, what is the meaning of this,” he demanded. To the League, that was just the gruff Batman voice. To Jason and the birds, the undertone of fear was obvious. Nothing set the old man off like a threat to his birds. Jason would know, he’d taken advantage of that before.

Constantine grimaced, “well, you see-“

But the Ghost King interrupted him. “No, let me explain. John Constantine is the greatest con man that ever lived. He could sell sand in the Sahara. He’s swindled demons and gods alike. He’s somehow managed to sell his soul like fifty fucking times, making the day of his eventual death into a jurisdictional nightmare of interdimensional proportions.”

He paused to take another deep breath - something Jason noticed with bemusement was a bit strange for a ghost.

“Ol’ Johnny here probably expected Pariah Dark, the previous Ghost King, the kind of mad hat conquerer who’s been locked up for millennia for unspeakable crimes against the Realms - just the kind of proud, single minded sod that’s ripe for John’s kind of swindling. Whose only spells of freedom came from summonings like this, which were thankfully rare, ‘cause very few people are stupid enough to summon the Ghost King.”

“But me-” he touched his chest, “there’s a reason I’m not locked in a sarcophagus. For one I don’t deal in souls or eternal damnation, secondly even if I did I wouldn’t touch that soul of yours with a ten feet pole.”

“Congratulations, Jackass, you managed to summon the actually ruling Monarch of the World In Between Worlds at full power and there’s absolutely nothing you can offer me. I deal in equivalent exchange. Nothing matters to you as much as the world, except your own skin and your ownership of that is questionable at best. That leaves your… friends? Or coworkers? Is that what they are? to pay.”

And with that the King turned to them all, green eyes both angry and resigned.

“Better start thinking about what things you’re willing to give up, I’ll be friendly and let your offerings stack, the world is heavy enough as it is.”

An unsettled murmur rustled through the assembled heroes. It was one thing to sacrifice in the heat of battle, but this was something none of them had prepared for. They had all expected Constantine to handle things, they all were just present for safety’s sake. It was certainly why Jason was there or he wouldn’t have been in same room as the heroes.

Ever since his revival he’d had somewhat of a magic resistance and the All Blades were the best bet if something went south. That had been the idea at least, but this had gone south in the entirely different direction. And, Jason suspected, the All Blades probably wouldn’t even work on the king. The impression Jason got from him wasn’t evil at all; he had purposefully directed their thoughts in the direction of physical possessions.

With the room stalled in uncertainty, Jason felt anger rising. They were wasting time when the solution was obvious. He’d said he didn’t deal in souls or eternal damnation that still left a wide range of interpretation to Jason’s thinking.

“Oi, Spooky!” He stepped forward tilting his head up in challenge, “You can have me, - a willing sacrifice gotta be worth a good deal.”

There were gasps all around him but he didn’t look just kept eye contact with those glowing Lazarus eyes as they turned to him in consideration.

The was a sudden cacophony of protest from his brothers, hands grabbing onto him pulling him back but he stood his ground.

“J-Hood, back down right now!” That was Bruce’s voice and for a moment there, it was almost like he actually cared, but then he was just ordering him about like usual. Then Dick was in front of him and even he couldn’t ignore that.

“Jay, no,” he hissed lowly horrified, “what’s the matter with you?”

The was a small tug in Jason’s chest at that.

“He said he didn’t deal in souls,” Tim pointed out urgently.

“Todd,” was everything Damian said, but there was a vulnerability there that was rarely in the little brat’s voice.

Jason couldn’t help but smile. It was heartening that they cared at least a little. He set a hand down on Damian’s head and ruffled his hair roughly. “Take care of my books, brat.”

“NO,” That was Dick, and he held on tighter, Jason couldn’t shrug him off, but as it turned out he didn’t have to.

There was a tug on the chain in his chest and he slipped right through his brothers and flew right up to the king inside the circle until he hovered level with the Lazarus green eyes.

The was a cacophony of protest but it was somehow muted like background noise from here inside the circle and yet the crackling fire of the crown was loud in his ears. The inhuman Lazarus eyes flickered from Jason then behind him and then back again.

“You offer your life to the High Ghost King as a sacrifice?”

Jason shuddered, felt fear grip him at the wording, because that was what it meant. Truthfully he didn’t want to die, but he’d been there and he’d done that, and if he was to die again, at least those eyes held no cruelty. He was the obvious choice. He clenched his jaw and steeled his resolve, the world would do fine without him.

“I do.” There was a momentary frown like regret on the king’s face before he looked to the wider room.

“Then with the consequences of that we have a deal, and I, High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, will save the world.” The chains leading to everyone but Jason burst into showers of tiny green stars.

“Come.” A white gloved hand was reached out to him, deceptively human if it wasn’t for the glow. Jason took the hand and next he knew the world turned into a green swirl.

The world solidified suddenly like a punch to the gut and Jason fell to his knees in loose sand. He gagged, but nothing came up from his empty stomach. Slowly he looked up, they were in the desert. In the distance was the nightmarish portal to the Dark Dimension Trigon’s forces were coming through. If only Raven hadn’t been hurt so early in the fight, but Trigon was working with someone else, someone Constantine had claimed was a powerful ghost and the combined forces were not something they had been prepared for. Even so there were heroes in the distance trying to hold back the hordes.

“What are we doing here?” He looked up to the King who was floating just half a foot off the ground and he was suddenly aware of the fact that he was kneeling.

“Figured the least I could do is show you that I uphold my end of the bargain. Stay here, this distance should be safe.”

With that the Ghost King flew off.

Jason had half a mind to try escaping, but as the first punch was thrown in the distance the futility settled in his gut. At least he could enjoy the show.

Oo o oO

“Daniel,” Vlad greeted him in his typical self satisfied drawl, “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Danny’s lips split in a grin. He wouldn’t be so satisfied in a moment. He flashed forward throwing a punch that sent Vlad into a crater in the ground. He looked down at the man who at one point had been his nemesis. Now he just looked sad and confused.

“I think you’ll find you miscalculated this time, Plasmius.”

Finally Vlad actually seemed to register that Danny was wearing the full regalia and what that meant. His face paled to white.

“No, your Majesty, please, have mercy,” he begged, folding instantly - pitiful.

Danny snarled, fangs and limbs growing and growing with sickening cracks, like the frozen surface of a lake when you’ve stepped too far. He was the darkness of space itself, too many mouths split into white fanged grins.

“A line was crossed today.” His words reverberated across the field halting all the combatants in place as terror gripped them. “You have been warned time and time again. Now a price has been paid, a deal has been made and you shall reap what you have sown.”

With that he swept across the battlefield dark and all encompassing leaving only the heroes standing cold and shaken as he pushed Trigon’s army and Vlad and his panicking ghost minions back into the Dark Dimension.

The portal closed behind him when he willed it.

The large horned guy in the armor who was shouting in outrage had to be Trigon. The Ghost King was bound in contract to save the world from this threat. He could technically stop now, the threat was ended they had no portal and those were not simple to make, but was the world really saved when Trigon still stood and his army was still whole?

No, the Ghost King did not think so.

It had been a very stressful morning. He would very much enjoy taking it out on these fools.

Oo o oO

It didn’t take long before the Ghost King reappeared, thankfully looking more human, though there was still a wild glint in his eyes as if the beast hadn’t quite been sated.

“It’s done then.” Jason said with resignation. The green eyes blinked down at him slowly and again a white gloved hand was offered as if Jason had any real choice in the matter. Annoyance that he wouldn’t just get things over with rose up and Jason grabbed the hand with more aggression than was maybe wise.

All he got in return was a bemused look, as if he was less threatening than a kitten. Which arguably, compared to the eldritch monarch of the death, he probably was.

The world turned into a green swirl again. When the world solidified he found that traveling this way didn’t get easier a second time. He was down on his hands and knees in plush red carpet, his stomach turned nauseously. Shit it felt like he really would puke this time.

Suddenly a cool hand touched his forehead, somehow easing enough of the nausea that he could look up.

The king was kneeling in front of him, a worried look on his face. And that had anger rising in Jason’s chest, because how dare he.

“Why don’t you just get it over already?”

Black eyebrows rose.

“Get it over with?” He had the audacity to ask.

“Just kill me already, stop playing with me.”

Any leftover amusement went out of the Ghost King’s face at that.

“Why would I kill you?” He asked flatly.

“Because I gave you my life? What else would it mean!"

"Your life belonging to me, does not mean I have to kill you, in fact that would be rather stupid of me.”

“What difference does it make? Aren’t you the king of the dead!”

The King shrugged. “Sure, but I don’t own my subjects. Death is the one thing that will free you from me.”

Jason paled, he hadn’t considered this. The Ghost King had said he didn’t deal in souls or eternal damnation, but a human life wasn’t eternal - hadn’t he himself thought there was a lot of leeway in those statements?

“No no no, I’m gonna stop you there, you look like I ate your favorite pair of slippers.”

Jason blinked, startled out of his spiraling train of thought by the sheer absurdity.

“Is that something you have experience with?”

“You’ll never know.” The king grinned back at him teeth definitely sharp enough to rip slippers to pieces. His features turned serious. “Now you listen closely. You did not offer your mind-“ he poked Jason’s forehead firmly- “your body, your soul or your service-“ he underscored each of the last three words with a poke to Jason’s chest.

He got up to his feet.

“All I own in capacity of King is your life. And so your life will be lived here with me, that is all. Wording is very important in magic.” With those words he strode down the hall, cape flaring out behind him.

Jason was left on the floor, mind reeling.

“You changed the wording,” Jason realized, because he had offered himself - all of him being implied. But the Ghost King had changed the wording when they made the deal. He jumped to his feet to catch up. It’s wasn’t hard, the Ghost King was actually rather short when he deigned to touch the ground.

“You changed the wording,” Jason repeated firmly, “you-“

“I already told you I’m not into the soul trade. Nor do I want any slaves, there’s enough of that mess leftover from the previous king.”

He grimaced at that.

He wouldn’t kill him. He’d changed the wording, so Jason’s will was his own. He wasn’t a servant or slave, or a soldier or anything. “So what then?”

“What then?” The king stopped and looked back at Jason bewildered.

“You own my life and you have no plan or purpose for me, what am I gonna do?”

His eyebrows drew down in a frown but Jason was not done. Indignation burned hot in his chest.

“If you are not going to kill me or have any use for me, why even bring me here? You could own my life just as easily in Gotham as you can here!”

There was a rumble, it sounded like it was in the distance but somehow Jason knew it was from the ghost king in front of him. His legs suddenly felt unsteady.

“You are here,” the King growled, “because idiots decided to summon me and you and your family are paying the toll for saving the world.”

The anger turned to ice in his chest. “My family, what do you mean?”

“I mean, Jason Todd, that you mean the world to them and if it wasn’t for that your sacrifice wouldn’t have been enough, you think too little of yourself for that.”

What? No! That couldn’t be right?

“You’re lying,” he whispered. It couldn’t be true. Jason was the one paying the price, not his family. It couldn’t be.

The Ghost King snarled, morphing into sharp shadows and glowing eyes.

“You dare,” his voice boomed from all around Jason and he clapped his hands over his ears.

“I have stretched-” he seemed to grow longer and longer into spindlier shadows, chittering and cracking, “stretched, as far as I can on this deal and you call me a liar!”

The last word rumbled through Jason’s bones like a bulldozer and he fell to his knees. Nothing existed for Jason in that moment but the pain and the voice- he had nothing left to do anything with, he could neither protest or apologize. Only feel and hear despite plugging his ears.

“You summoned me! I did not ask to be cast as a villain in your Saturday morning cartoon!”

The temperature plummeted and there was something like a mournful wail in the distance, then a long spindly arm opened a door in the wall. Jason could have sworn it wasn’t there a moment ago, but honestly up could be down right now and he wouldn’t know. His teeth clattered and he desperately wanted to wrap his arms around his body, but dared not move them from his ears.

“Your room,” the King spat. The tapestries on the wall melted slowly together with his shadows.

“You may move around the castle, but don’t go into the west wing, those are my rooms, and don’t go into the dungeons - for your own sake.” He disappeared in a short flash of light.

Jason’s ears popped as pressure and temperature returned to normal and he gasped as if he hadn’t breathed for several minutes. Maybe he hadn’t. He couldn’t remember.

His mind was reeling, unable to comprehend, to process, what had happened. Words, he didn’t know them, but the King’s voice felt engraved onto his bones.

Beyond the doorway was a bed. A bed, he turned the concept around in his head as if it was a strange new thing, despite that he knew he should know the concept.

Slowly he picked himself up. With every staggered step, he felt more and more worried he would just melt into the carpet, but finally he fell down on top of soft covers.

Bed good.

We are not talking about the fact that this is another wip... >.> I wanted to do something for Trauma Tuesday, but in the end I'm too tired, and then Clock suggested it would be Trauma Lite Tuesday, so that's what we're going for XD I don't tag people, if you want to follow the story please subscribe to the handy masterlist/subscription post

#Almanac #dp x dc #dead on main #summonings have consequences #trauma tuesday #though more like #trauma lite tuesday

996 notes · View notes