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luxaofhesperides · 4 months ago

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the beginning - danny

The Lazarus Pit brings Danny back.

The child who went into them, however, is gone forever.

Danyal al Ghul is the soul who should reside in this body. Danyal has a life still to live and Danny died ages ago, old and surrounded by loved ones, ready to spend the rest of his forever in the Infinite Realms.

Something's gone terrible wrong, he thinks rather wryly, squinting through the cold green water that surrounds him. An ache echoes through his body and he brings a hand—small, a child's hand that shouldn't belong to him— to his stomach, where he can feel a large wound slowly pull itself together.

Did I get stabbed?

He means to continue the thought, but a sharp pain hits his head, making him curl up. He gasps and air bursts from his lungs, water rushing to fill in the empty space. Danny chokes, panicking, as memories slide into place, the lives of Danyal al Ghul and Danny Fenton fighting for dominance in his head. His lungs burn, throat working futilely to push water out, but there's nothing to be done.

Danny is a child again, and just like last time, he dies young.

1. So.

Assassins.

Danny honestly can't tell if this is a step up or a step down from mad scientist parents. On the one hand: he knows they loved him, as clumsy as it was, even though they loved their work more. On the other hand: assassin cult sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and while cool, is definitely not safe for kids.

And Danny, somehow, is a child again.

This really wasn't what he expected when he woke up on the sandy bottom of the pit. He's in ghost form, which is an unpleasant shock, but at least its familiar.

He is also, if his memory as Danyal serves him correctly, nine years old.

Kinda sucks that he died so young this time round. Didn't even make it to the double digits before he was taken out of the running.

He can't remember what it was like being so small in his last life. He can't imagine how anyone would look at a child and run them through with a sword. It's a cruel world he's woken up in. It's made worse by the fact that he's alone.

At least being down here without needing to breathe is giving him valuable time to think.

Danny has lived a full life already. He didn't really need or want another one, content to be a full ghost in the Infinite Realms. But going back isn't really an option, now that he's in a new body. The kid he could have been deserves to live fully, and the least Danny can do is live that life for them.

It'll be hard, but Danny's sure he can manage a decent life for himself.

Being presumed dead will make his escape from the assassins easier, though he'll miss getting the chance to meet his new mother; assassin as she is, Danyal knows her not by her blades but by her soft lullabies and jasmine-scented hair. The loss of her child must be hurting her deeply, but it's necessary. If Danny wants any semblance of a normal life, he has to leave her behind.

Besides, he's seen enough death. He doesn't want to ever be the cause of it.

So, he needs a plan for this new life.

Step one: get out of dodge.

The rest he'll figure out on the way.

Turns out assassins weren't the most shocking thing in this new life.

No, that honor goes to superheroes.

Genuine, honest to God superheroes! With powers and everything!

To think that Danny once called himself a superhero. Ha! As if! He's nothing compared to the likes of Superman or the Flash or even Green Lantern. They're in another league. Literally. They're part of the Justice League, which has a whole slew of other heroes, and Danny is possibly their biggest fan.

Not like that's weird; most people in this world are huge fans of superheroes. Makes sense, since they're the ones who rely on their protection the most.

It does suck to know that his background belongs to that of a villain. Assassins aren't known for saving people, after all.

Part of him contemplates becoming a hero again, taking up the role of Phantom and joining the ranks of Superman. But he's had many years to come to terms with the loss of his teenage years and the bitterness that came with it. That experience, that life once lived, helps him decide each time that being a civilian is the gift this life owes him.

At thirteen, Danny lives in a foster home with six other kids. He's the oldest and has his hands full taking care of everyone else while their foster parents work three jobs between them to keep them all afloat.

When his younger siblings play superheroes, he gladly takes the role of the villain, swooping in with a blanket to kidnap away an innocent bystander that has to be rescued. He falls over dramatically at the end of each fight and praises his siblings' strength and teamwork, making them puff up with pride.

It's all fun and games so long as it only stays fun and games.

Superpowers are cool and all, but his came at the cost of his life, his health, his future. He knows, better than anyone, the price of being a hero. He knows that even Superman carries heavy losses on his shoulders, struggles under burdens no one can see.

He's lucky that the small town he ended up in—Luray, Virginia—has no heroes or villains. Too small a place to be on anyone's radar, apparently.

His classmates often complain about how they wish they could live in a big city where there's more to do, more to see, superheroes flying through the streets to protect them.

Danny is happy where he is. It's quiet, and small, and nothing like what he's used to, but it's safe.

That's all he really wants.

Here's something that stays the same no matter what world he's in: Danny is a magnet for trouble.

If the trouble stopped at bullies, everything would have been fine. Danny could handle Dash, and he could handle Justin just as easily.

But the universe loves to escalate with Danny, specifically, which is why Danny had to reveal his powers when some villain-wannabe school shooter attacked his high school.

And to think he felt bad for Jackson when he didn't make it onto the track team.

Luray does not have a meta population. They're too small to have much of a population at all, and much of it is white which made him, half-Iranian, stand out even before he threw out a barrier of ice to protect his classmates a second before the gunfire began.

"Danny?!" his seatmate, Clarrissa, cries out in alarm.

"Everyone get out the window and run for it!" he orders, "I hold him back as much as I can!"

"You can't stay here!"

"Don't worry," Danny says, offering her a tight smile. "He couldn't kill me even if he tried. Now go!"

His classmates hadn't wasted any more time, sending him shocked looks as they escaped the classroom. A glimpse of his reflection in the window revealed glowing green eyes and blue mist wafting out of his mouth.

Looks like his time in Luray is up. He hopes his foster siblings won't be too mad at him for running away.

The gunfire stops, and Danny takes his chance to leap through his ice, intangible, and tackle Jackson, easily knocking the gun away from him.

"Monster!" Jackson spits at him, and Danny laughs.

"Bold of you to say that. I'm not to one trying to kill people."

He doesn't want to hear anything else that comes out of Jackson's mouth, so he knocks the guy out with a solid hit to a pressure point on his neck. Hopefully that'll keep him down long enough for the cops to get him.

Danny stands and means to leave, but something hits the back of his head hard and he's out before he realizes what's happened.

When he wakes up, he's strapped down to a table in what is undeniably a lab, and sighs.

At least he made it to sixteen before he went into another lab. Maybe in his next life he might even get all the way up to twenty before he's pulled back down here.

4. Though he has all his powers and a ghost form, that doesn't mean he is a ghost in this life.

No, he's fully a meta, which means meta-suppressing cuffs work on him.

It's not exactly a discovery he was hoping to have while locked up in a lab, but it's what he's got, so he has to roll with it. The cuffs are heavy on his wrists and around his throat, keeping him from escaping as a group of people in masks and lab coats bustle around, ignoring him.

His head is still foggy, though likely more from the drugs than the hit he took to his head.

He doesn't bothering talking to any of them; they don't see him as human, and Danny's dealt with enough of that in his past life.

Mad scientists love to talk though, so he still hears the gist of their plans: recreating the meta gene for normal people, making a profit from selling powers, getting rich and famous from their accomplishments. They had been using Jackson to get corpses for human testing, but they got Danny instead — someone they can harvest bio material for, a much better find than a couple dead kids.

If he had the energy to rage, Danny would have killed everyone in the room already. They planned to kill his classmates just for test subjects.

He doesn't want to be an assassin, but he'd gladly lean into those old lessons to make sure they never hurt anyone again.

But the cuffs and drugs do a good job of keeping him docile, barely able to think, as they transport him around to different locations and cut him open.

He's not sure how long it's been when they ease up on the drugs a bit. It still takes time for his body to work through everything, and he comes too with a throat that's dry and a stomach that hasn't had anything in it for quite some time.

The first thing Danny does when they start asking him questions is throw up on them.

If they wanted cooperation, they should have treated him better. This is fully on them.

It makes for a convincing argument for food and water and a bathroom break, at least, so he gets what he demands and takes care of his human body under the cold gazes of three scientists.

"You guys suck," he says conversationally. "Keeping test subjects alive is like basic knowledge. No wonder y'all suck at your jobs."

"Your comments aren't needed," one of the scientists says primly. "Get up. We need to study how using your powers affects your body."

They hook a bunch of different things onto him, then lock him in a glass cage and use the cuff around his throat to send jolts of electricity through him when he doesn't do anything. He throws a chunk of ice at them, watching as it breaks apart into small pieces when it hits the glass. The scientists scribble in their notepads, and when they look at him again, he flips them off.

He gets shocked again, but it's worth it.

The process repeats for another few hours, then he's pulled out of the cage, gets an IV stuck in his arm, and drops off into drugged oblivion before he has time to start throwing hands.

It must have been months. Danny's not sure; it's hard to keep track of time when locked in isolation.

He knows he's fed at least once a day. He's been getting a tray of bland food at random times, but he's counted over 50 trays sliding through the little slot on the bottom of his cell door.

Turns out insulting scientists and their procedures is a bad idea, especially when he has the language to really bruise their egos.

So.

Isolation sucks.

But at least they don't drug him anymore!

The cuffs do their job of keeping him in place, and if he didn't have memories of another life to keep him company, he definitely would have lost his mind long ago.

There's other people in here, other metas. He's heard them screaming and begging for mercy. He's heard them go chillingly quiet. He wonders why there are so many superheroes in this world when not a single one has come to save them.

Surely at least one would notice metas disappearing and would investigate?

But no.

No one ever comes to save them.

So Danny needs to figure out a way past the cuffs, and then he can be Phantom again long enough to free the other metas and make every scientist involve pay for their crimes.

He just needs to wait.

He just needs—

When Danny wakes up, the alarms are ringing. It makes his head pound, throbbing with each piercing sound.

He stumbles up, using the wall to keep his balance, and freezes when he sees that the door to his cell is open.

…Huh.

The hallway is bathed in red light when he steps out. No one's around. He wanders around the facility, searching for answers and only finds more questions.

There are other cells, also empty. Certain rooms have blood splattered across the walls and the floor, but no bodies. Labs are destroyed, broken glass on the floor. But every room is empty.

He wanders until he finds what must be a security room. There's a strange device dangling off a keychain on a rack, and Danny eyes it curiously. He runs his fingers around the cuff on his throat, feels the little depression where the collar comes together, and takes the rounded device. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work.

But if it does work…

The cuff pops open easily, as if it hasn't been his greatest foe these past few months.

All at once, his strength returns to him. He has forgotten what it was like to breathe easily, to feel his powers come to his call so easily, to be reassured that he can take care of himself.

It's almost like coming back to life.

He transforms, settling back into his ghost form with relief, and flies through the facility in search of any other metas that may need help. He finds no one, but he does catch a glimpse of the outside.

The sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. Part of the facility has been blown apart; rubble surrounds the place and the surrounding forest has been flattened. It looks as though a fight has moved through the area.

Maybe a superhero did come to save them? Rude of them to leave only Danny, though.

He continues his search, poking his head into different rooms and hallways. He finds a staircase going down and follows it into the basement. More labs greet him, and the glow of computers and strange vials of liquid leave him unsettled.

There's a green glow coming around the corner than reminds him of the Lazarus Pit he flew out of, once upon a time many years ago, and that's what draws him forward.

Tucked away in that familiar glow is a small body, floating in a tube of liquid. There's an oxygen mask attached to her face, but that doesn't stop Danny from recognizing her.

"Ellie?"

Just like in one life, Danny is cloned. The difference is that this time, there's no reason for it, no insane godfather trying to recreate a version of him that will choose him.

No, this time it's from a group of scientists who should have known better, who decided to mess around with his genes, and brought his once little sister now daughter into such a cruel, dangerous world.

Danny barely remembers breaking the glass to get her out of there. He doesn't know where he found the coat to bundle her up in, flying out of the facility as fast as he could. He feels sick, knowing it's his fault that she's here now, forced into a painful, terrifying existence because he wasn't strong enough to save himself.

He's a runaway meta victim of mad science. He can't take care of her.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her head. "I'm so sorry."

She small in his arms. She barely weighs anything.

Danny blinks back tears and tries to find some place he can stop and rest, somewhere safe he can gather his thoughts and figure out his next steps.

This isn't like when he first woke up in this world, with both sets of memories.

This is Ellie.

She deserves more than just a wish and a half-baked plan for a better life.

She deserves a family that wants her, that can care for her, that can protect her. She deserves to grow up normally and not worry about destabalizing or being a replacement for him or being hunted down.

She deserves one life to be a kid and grow up safe and be whoever she wants to be.

Danny will never be able to give her that.

But maybe he can give her to someone who can.

Danyal grew up with an assassin mother and a cruel grandfather who expected far too much from a child. He was taught to kill and be more weapon than child. He was taught the world was something for him to take, to protect, to water with blood.

Danyal was meant to be the next Demon Head, and the next Bat.

Danny knows he can't go to his mother. If they're both lucky, he will never have to see her again. Knowing his luck, he's already planning explanations for why he never went back to her.

Danny's father, on the other hand…

It didn't take much to put the pieces together. The notorious Bat is Batman, Gotham's vigilante and one of the founders of the Justice League. While a child would have been left confused by the many comments his mother made about his father, it was simple enough for Danny to line them up with what he learned about the heroes of this world and realize, oh, that's my dad.

It takes a few weeks of research, using public libraries with Ellie tucked securely in a wrap to his chest, but he's able to learn more about Batman.

The most important thing being that he has kids.

Of course, none of this is officially acknowledged, but everyone knows that the Robins are his kids. Current Robin, especially, likes to remind people that he's 'the son of Batman'.

Okay. Cool.

Danny has siblings.

Awesome.

He's… not looking forward to those conversations.

At least it means more people to look after Ellie. Assuming they take her in, which Danny's really hoping for.

But it's the best he can do, so Danny sets course for Gotham and hopes that just this once, everything will work out.

Meeting the Bats of Gotham is a lot harder than he expected.

A week in the city and he's barely caught more than a glimpse of them. He can't dedicate a lot of time to tracking them down either, needing to break into grocery stores to get food for him and Ellie.

She's so quiet as a baby, and it terrifies him. She's only cried twice the entire time he's had her, and Danny spends every day begging her to hold on.

Time during the day is spent catching naps and researching common vigilante spotting areas in Gotham. He's got a map of Gotham taken from a library and has been steadily marking it up, putting stars in the best places to find a Bat. There are places all over the city, and Danny has no idea how to know which ones are the best.

The only thing he can do is wait at a different rooftop each night, clinging to Ellie, wondering if this is the last night he has with her.

On the ninth night, someone finally arrives.

"Step away from the edge," a voice demands.

Danny turns to see Robin approaching, hands held out as if to catch him. He's bigger than Danny was expecting. Which makes sense; most of the stories Danny got online are from when Robin was a kid, and it's been a few years since then. He must be a teenager now. Older, but still young.

"Robin," he manages to say, his throat tightening. It feels almost like there's a noose around it. It feels like that meta-suppressing cuff has clicked back into place, leaving him helpless.

"Step away from the edge," Robin repeats. "There is no need for this to be your last resort."

"But it is," Danny whispers.

Robin darts forward and wraps a hand around Danny's wrist, yanking him towards the center of the roof. "Why on Earth would you come up here? Surely you must have known that someone would stop you."

"Batman," he gets out. "I need to speak to Batman."

"What for?"

"I'm… I was told, once, that I'm his son."

10. Robin stares at him for a long moment.

Then he takes off his mask.

Danny knows those eyes: he sees them every time he looks in a mirror.

"Danyal," Robin breathes. "You died before I was born."

"I did. Are you…?"

"Mother told me about you."

So he has a little brother. If only he hadn't left first chance he got, he could have known his little brother, gotten away from that place before it hurt him too. Danny has made many mistakes since he arrived in this world. Missing a little brother is perhaps the worst of them.

"Mother…" Danny repeats. "She put me in the Lazarus Pit. I remember that. She didn't want me to die."

"I was born to replace you."

Just like Ellie.

So many mistakes repeating. He's never felt like more of a failure.

"Batman. Our father. He treats you well? You are safe with him?"

Robins brows furrow, but he nods, which is enough for Danny. "Yes. Of course. Isn't that why you're here now?"

"I'm not asking for me." Danny carefully, gently, unwraps Ellie. "I'm asking for her. Please, take care of her. She deserves more than I can give her. Ellie… she'd be your niece."

Robin's eyes are wide. He's frozen until Danny pushes Ellie against his chest, forcing him to lift his arms to hold her.

"Wait, what about—?"

When Robin looks up, Danny's already gone.

It's for the best.

(masterpost for all parts)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #demon brothers #dcxdp fic #the harmless series #gonna make that a full series. all posts will be part of that. heres the beginning of it all!!#reincarnation + demon brothers + baby ellie #tw human experimentation #dw there will be more #i'll have a full masterpost to add to the end of each post once i write and post the next part #which will be damian's pov and the aftermath of danny revealing himself and leaving ellie #my writing

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orangeocelotmartyn · 3 months ago

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Sausage writes a fanfic about Martyn and Ren's endings on FantasyMC SMP

Sausage: --cause I was talking about Ren lore. And one day, y'know, Ren's gonna be online when Martyn's online. And then, he's gonna see. "Wow, you're also…a big, burly, giant, (three seconds of silence) dragonborn." I love dragons. Knights and dragons--sometimes they kill 'em--sometimes dragons get killed!--by, by knights. But I don't think Ren will kill this particular dragon. I think Ren will befriend this dragon. And what's gonna happen is gonna be stuff of legend. Ren is probably gonna ride that dragon known as 'Martyn InTheLittleWood,' into the sunset. And that's one of the last things that happens. They're gonna--Martyn's gonna regrow his dragon wings--I'm calling this lore right now--Martyn's gonna regrow his dragon wings, and he's gonna be like, "Hey. Ren. Hop on, buddy." And they're gonna sail into the sunset, almost like-uh, uh, um, almost like Gem and-and FWhip did, at the end when-when they left me behind.

Sausage: And they, and they found out Pearl was dead, and they thought that I was dead, and they left, y'know? I-I wasn't mad at them, y'know? I was technically bouncing realities in that-that realm. So they had no idea, they thought we were dead. A lot of people give them grief, that they left us, no--technically, they thought we were both dead, so they left us, uh, in peace. Uh, to live a better life, outside. But technically, y'know, I was, uh, busy, jumpin' rift-either way! Whatever, you know?

Sausage: Martyn and-and-and Ren are gonna ride into the sunset, and they're gonna go visit his other king that banished him, and they're probably gonna end up doing adventures there, and kill them. Uh,this was a fanfiction, alternate reality, by me, Mythical J. Sausage. Fanfiction writes itself.

#mythicalsausage #rendog #inthelittlewood #fantasy smp #video #transcribed #treebark #renchanting duo

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lizzyiii · 8 days ago

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Hello, I would like to make an obscene yandere request to Aemond Targaryen for a cousin who is a Helen of Troy, she never met her cousins and Gwayne locked her in the lighthouse because the children in Antigua have already declared duels and fights for her, please

“Alexa play Angel by Massive Attack.”

A Beauty Too Tempting

pairing | aemond x cousin!reader word count | 5.4k summary | when aemond targaryen learns of his cousin—a beauty so captivating that men are willing to die for you—he becomes dangerously obsessed, determined to claim you for himself. tags | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, slight dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f) receiving, possessive sex, rough sex, virginity kink, breeding kink, obsession, dirty talk, no description for reader, creampie, religious guilt, guys this was crazzzyyy, yandere aemond, delusional aemond, obsessive aemond. a/n | this was such an interesting and creative prompt, damnnnn. also I think this might be the best smut I've ever written. KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE (NOT PROOFREAD)

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond had finally ascended.

His reckless, wine-soaked brother was a shadow of the past, burnt and broken beyond repair. Though the Seven Kingdoms still called him “Prince Regent,” Aemond knew he held the true power of a king—and wielded the might of a dragon unmatched in all the realm.

He was Prince Regent, yes, but also the rider of Vhagar, the Queen of Dragons, the slayer of Daemon Targaryen, the butcher of his treacherous half-sister and her rabble of bastards.

At God’s Eye, he had cast Daemon down, wresting from him the title of warrior to which he clung so stubbornly. And when Alys Strong’s deceit led him astray, she too had met the edge of his blade, her charms and false promises extinguished in the cold stone of Harrenhal’s dungeons. Now, what was left of his family was but the bones of the house.

Only his mother and his niece remained, the ones bound by duty and blood. Helaena, broken by grief and driven mad with sorrow, had thrown herself from her chamber balcony, finding an end that her shattered mind had long sought. Aegon, the crown’s fool, lay in a stupor of smoke and agony, burned and nearly lifeless after his fall from Moondancer’s flames.

But Aemond ruled now—his alone was the realm’s rightful power. The Seven Kingdoms were his to bend, as was his every desire. He had broken his betrothal to the Baratheon girl without a second thought; a warlord and dragonrider of his stature deserved a bride worthy of his legend. He was the last dragon of House Targaryen, and his queen would be a beauty revered, one whose grace and purity might rival the Maiden herself.

And that was when Aemond first heard of you.

Fleeting whispers had reached him from Oldtown, speaking of his uncle Gwayne’s daughter—a maiden so beautiful that men spoke of you as if you were touched by the gods. Tales claimed you had been cloistered away in the Watchtower’s highest chamber, veiled to protect the eyes and sanity of any man who caught sight of you.

There, concealed behind shadows and stone, you were kept far from the reach of suitors who risked life and honor in duels, each vying for even a single glimpse of your face.

Your father, Ser Gwayne Hightower, had fallen in the fires of the Dance, and your mother had died bearing you, leaving you alone in that desolate tower—an unclaimed jewel, hidden and waiting.

The thought stirred something fierce within Aemond. He would go to you, he decided. He would see this beauty so lauded, this Hightower daughter untouched by the world’s corruptions, and he would decide if you were worthy to become his Queen, his Targaryen bride. For if your beauty proved true, you would belong to him alone, bound by devotion and a loyalty owed only to the dragon and its rider.

After landing Vhagar just outside Oldtown, Aemond took a horse into the city, riding with the air of a conqueror. But even he was taken aback by the scene awaiting him. High walls surrounded the Watchtower of House Hightower, fortified and stern, yet it was the gathering outside that seized his attention.

Hundreds of men crowded the courtyard and spilled into the streets, shouting, some nearly brawling as they jostled against one another. Their voices rose in a fervent cacophony, names and cries echoing like a battle chant.

Aemond’s gaze swept over them with disdain. Fools, all of them, clamoring over the mere hope of being in your presence. As he approached the Tower’s gates, the guards lowered their spears and bowed their heads, recognizing the rider of Vhagar, the One-Eyed Prince who now held the realm in his grip.

They opened the gates without question, allowing him through to the Tower’s base, where a young servant girl waited nervously.

She kept her eyes down as she led him up the spiraling stairway to the highest chamber. But Aemond’s curiosity simmered, and his tone was sharp when he finally spoke. “Who are these men gathered outside? What madness drives them to swarm like starving wolves?”

The servant’s face went pale, but she dared to glance up briefly, voice trembling. “They’re suitors, my prince…men from every corner of the realm. Many have traveled from the Reach and the Riverlands, even as far as Dorne and the North, all to seek my lady’s hand.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, a dark satisfaction curling at the edge of his lips. While the Dance Of Dragons had gone on, you had become something of a legend—a prize for fools and hopeful knights. But you were not for them.

“Let them scream themselves hoarse,” he murmured coldly, mostly to himself, as they reached the final stretch of the climb. His voice softened, though the weight of his words was fierce. “By nightfall, they will know she belongs to me alone.”

The servant kept her gaze down, fearful of the silent promises in his tone. They finally reached the door to the high chamber, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open, bowing as he strode past her.

As Aemond stepped inside, the air was thick with expectation, and he knew: he would let none of those suitors have you—not while he still breathed.

A figure stood near the narrow window, framed by the dim light filtering through the high stone walls. Draped in a gown as pale as starlight, a delicate veil fell over your hair and face, obscuring your features with an ethereal softness.

You looked less like a woman of flesh and blood, more like some forgotten goddess cast down from the heavens, your beauty hidden behind gauze and shadow. Almost nervously, the servant girl who had led Aemond withdrew, sparing one last, uncertain glance before closing the heavy door, leaving him alone with the lady in white.

The room was silent but for the faint rustle of fabric as the veiled woman turned, your movements graceful yet guarded. You saw him—a tall, imposing figure shrouded in the black and crimson of House Targaryen, his silver hair gleaming like the steel at his hip.

Though your vision was blurred by the veil, there was no mistaking him. Even in the isolated walls of your tower, you had heard tales of him, whispered rumors that crept into your dreams. Aemond Targaryen—the One-Eyed Kinslayer, the dragonrider who had torn through his own blood, leaving most of House Targaryen ashes in his wake.

A shiver coursed through you as you lowered your head, barely daring to meet his single, penetrating gaze. You bent your head respectfully and murmured, “Your grace.”

At the sound of your voice—soft and lilting, as if it had drifted down from the heavens—Aemond’s breath hitched, and he paused, his gaze never wavering. You sounded like the very embodiment of the myths that had reached him, a voice so pure it defied the violence that had carved his path to you.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one bringing him closer to the veiled creature he had come to claim. “I am not only your Prince Regent,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “I am your kin as well.”

You nodded, your lashes fluttering beneath the veil. “Of course…cousin,” you replied shyly, your voice no more than a murmur, though it reached him clearly in the silence of the chamber.

Aemond’s lips curved, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he closed the distance between you. “You must know,” he continued, his tone possessive yet calm, “that I have not come all this way merely out of kinship. You are spoken of as if you were a queen in waiting…your beauty, your grace. Men would kill for a single look upon your face.”

Your cheeks warmed beneath the veil, though you dared not lift your head. The idea of such fierce, consuming attention unsettled you, yet you could not deny the pull he exerted on your senses—a dark, magnetic power that seemed to draw you closer, even as your instinct told you to step back.

“And now,” Aemond murmured, lifting a hand toward you, fingers ghosting over the edge of your veil, “it is I who have come to see if these tales hold truth. To decide if you are worthy…to stand beside me as my queen.” He let the words hang in the air, laden with meaning, with possession.

Beneath the veil, your lips parted, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The One-Eyed Prince had not come to court or woo you like the other men clamoring below; he had come to claim you, with a certainty that brooked no refusal.

“Tell me, cousin,” he whispered, his tone heavy with dark intent, a veiled promise lying beneath each word. “Would you defy me if I named you mine?”

He drew closer, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver through you as your heart hammered against your ribs. The weight of his claim felt as tangible as the stone walls around you, and in that instant, you knew defiance was a luxury that held no place here.

Before you could gather the breath to respond, Aemond’s hand rose toward your veil, his fingertips hovering just above its delicate fabric. A sense of desperation seized you, and your voice broke through the silence, raw and pleading. “Don’t! Please… I only wish to spare you.”

Aemond’s lips curved in a faint, humorless chuckle, his eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than mere amusement. “Spare me?” he murmured, as though the very idea amused him.

“You misunderstand, cousin. I do not seek to be saved.” His voice softened, yet the iron in his tone was unmistakable. “I seek only to behold my future wife.”

Your heart raced, every instinct urging you to step back, but your body seemed to betray you, rooted to the spot as Aemond reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of your veil. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, casting the thin fabric away and laying bare the face that had haunted his imagination.

The moment the veil fell, silence claimed the room, broken only by Aemond’s sharp intake of breath. His gaze devoured each feature of your face, sweeping over you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, as if he were drinking in the sight of a rare and coveted treasure.

He exhaled slowly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers traced a line along your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender. “Beautiful…” he breathed, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something darker. “Far more than any tale could capture. You are… a vision.”

A flicker of fear mingled with the warmth on your cheeks, and you dared to lift your gaze to his, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He studied you, and you sensed it was not mere admiration that darkened his eye, but hunger—a need so consuming it seemed to radiate from him.

“From this day forward,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, “you are mine. And I… I will allow no one, not even the gods, to take you from me.”

Your breath caught as Aemond’s fingers ghosted over your skin, sparking a fire that seemed to radiate through every inch of you. For a fleeting moment, your eyelids fluttered closed, helplessly savoring the sensation. But reality, sharp and undeniable, tore them open again, reminding you where you stood—and with whom.

“C-Cousin, please…” you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest, a fragile attempt to create space. “This… this cannot be. You should not…”

The words stumbled from your lips, half-hearted at best, even as your body betrayed you, arching subtly toward him, drawn like steel to a magnet. A flush of warmth rose beneath your skin, pooling in your cheeks, and beneath the thin fabric of your gown, your nipples peaked, aching under his gaze. The rush of sensations nearly overwhelmed you, each one more intoxicating than the last.

Aemond’s lips curved in a knowing, wicked smile, his eye gleaming as he took in your struggle, your futile attempts at resistance. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, so close that his breath mingled with yours, warm and heady.

“Wrong?” he murmured, his voice a dark, velvet caress, each syllable dripping with unrestrained desire. “There is no wrong between us, cousin. Only what was always meant to be…only fate and desire.”

Your heart raced, pounding against his chest, each beat echoing the dangerous thrill of his words. His hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his touch firm and possessive, as though he could bind you to him with that single gesture. He tilted your head ever so slightly, his mouth hovering just above yours, his gaze burning with intent.

“We are bound by blood,” he whispered, his words low and fervent, “by something far stronger than any foolish notion of right or wrong.” His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a featherlight touch that set your skin alight. “Do you not feel it, the way I do?”

You barely managed a nod, your mind clouded by the closeness, by the undeniable pull of him. With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Aemond’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, so close you could feel every contour of his lean frame pressing into yours.

His chest was a wall of heat, solid beneath your touch, and your breath hitched as you became all too aware of the hardness pressing insistently against your belly.

“Let me guide you,” he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and laced with promise, “to pleasures beyond the realm of mortal imagination.” His voice was low, dark, each word dripping with seduction as he continued, “Yield to me, and I shall make you mine in ways the world could scarcely comprehend.”

Every syllable curled around you, dissolving your remaining resistance like morning mist. Against all sense, your body softened, your resolve unraveling beneath his spell. Aemond’s words, woven with desire and power, coaxed you toward surrender. You melted against him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, your heart racing as his grip on you tightened possessively.

“Cousin…” you whispered, barely a breath, a mingling of plea and prayer.

Aemond’s lips curved, and he let out a soft, almost condescending click of his tongue, a smirk flickering in his eye. “I ask for so little,” he said, his tone deceptively light before his voice softened, becoming tender, almost reverent.

“Simply allow me to reign over you, to be the master of your heart and soul. Give me your loyalty, your love, your fear… let me own you in spirit and in flesh. Do that,” he murmured, his mouth grazing your jawline, “and I will serve you, worship you, slave to your every desire.”

A tremor ran through you as his hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the swell of your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to your core. You gasped, your hips involuntarily rolling against his straining erection.

“Please... ” you whimpered, your resistance breaking in the face of such carnal temptation. ”I-I am a maiden, a child of the Seven.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Aemond's chest as he felt your delicate form yield to his touch, your body betraying its innate desire despite your protests. His fingers curled around the plump mound of your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your gown.

“Child no longer,” he rasped, his thumb circling your aching nipple, coaxing it to an even harder peak. ”Maidenhood ends today, and a woman shall be born.”

With a swift tug, he ripped the laces of the front of your gown, exposing the swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering the sweetness within with his tongue.

"Mine," he growled against your lips, his hands roaming your body possessively

Your cry of shock morphed into a moan of ecstasy as Aemond's mouth ravaged yours, his dominant presence swallowing your very essence. The rough handling of your breasts sent sparks of delight coursing through your veins, your nipples throbbing in time with the pounding of your heart.

"No...no," you breathed against his lips, the words tumbling out unbidden. "This is wrong... this is sinful."

Ignoring your feeble protests, Aemond continued to explore your body with unrestrained lust. His hands roamed freely over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts.

“Sinful indeed,” his voice was a husky purr against your lips. “Yet how sweetly addictive it tastes.”

His hands trailed lower, bunching your skirts to your waist to find the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, a testament to your body's readiness for him.

“Such a delectable little cunt...” he whispered, his fingers slipping between your folds to test your readiness.

Your head fell back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat as Aemond's skilled fingers delved deeper, stroking your slickened flesh with a confident touch. A shudder rippled through you, your hips canting upwards in desperate pursuit of more.

“P-please...” you gasped, your voice trembling with devastation. “I...I've never...”

Aemond's knowing smirk only heightened your mortification, yet it couldn't quell the inferno building inside you. Your body was aflame, craving the release only he could provide.

“I'm afraid...” you murmured though your eyes were glazed with desire.

Aemond's eye gleamed with triumph as he watched you squirm under his touch, your innocence and inexperience only fueling his desire. He pressed a finger inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around the invading digit.

“Fear not, sweet cousin,” he cooed, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “I will be gentle... at first.”

He pumped his finger slowly, savoring the exquisite sensation of your virgin passage yielding to his touch. His thumb circled your pearl, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure racing through your nerves.

“You're doing wonderfully,” he praised, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip firmly. “Now, let's see if we can't coax out that pretty little scream, hmm?”

Your mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensations assaulting your senses. Aemond's fingers moved within you with a practiced ease, each thrust and twist sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“N-no...stop!” you managed to choke out, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. “It's too much!”

Aemond's grin widened, his eye flashing with dark amusement at your futile attempts to resist. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.

“Foolish girl,” he chided, his tone dripping with condescension. ”You crave this, every bit of it. Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind doesn't.”

He seized your wrists, pinning them above your head against the window as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His hot breath fanned across your cheeks, carrying the scent of smoke and masculine musk.

“Now, be a good little maiden and spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. “Let me taste you.”

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body thrumming with a mix of fear and exhilaration as Aemond's dominance asserted itself. Despite your reservations, a traitorous part of you yearned for the promised pleasure, your core clenching in anticipation.

"N-no...I won't...” you stammered, even as your thighs trembled, betraying your resolve. Aemond's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he forced you to submit.

“Please...” the word escaped your lips before you could stop it, a plea for mercy that sounded suspiciously like a plea for more, though confusion filled you, ”Why would you wish to taste me?”

Aemond's gaze raked over your trembling form, drinking in every quiver and gasp with sadistic delight. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his words dripping with dark promise.

"Because, my dear cousin," he purred, "I want to devour every inch of you until you forget your own name. Until all you know is my touch, my taste, my possession."

With a wicked grin, he released your wrists, only to grab your waist and throw you down upon your bed. You had no time to react before he settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart as he lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as Aemond's words painted a vivid picture of degradation and desire. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.

“And then, once I've had my fill,” he continued, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your slit, “I'll make you beg for more.”

“No...please...” your protests dissolved into a whimper as his tongue made contact with your aching sex, the wet heat of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Aemond chuckled darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers through your core. He increased the pressure of his tongue, lapping at your slick folds with relish, savoring the taste of your arousal.

“It's too much...I c-can't take it...” even as you spoke, your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation. Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his questing mouth.

“You lie, sweet cousin,” he murmured against your flesh, his voice muffled but unmistakable. “You crave this, crave me. Your body sings for me, begs for my touch.”

He sucked gently on your pearl, the suction pulling a sharp cry from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your cunt, his skillful tongue driving you closer to the edge with each passing moment.

“Release for me,” he commanded, his eye locking onto yours, burning with an intense, possessive hunger. “Let go and give me everything.”

Your entire being was consumed by the inferno of pleasure that Aemond ignited within you. His words, his touch, his very presence overwhelmed your senses until nothing existed beyond the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter in your core.

“Ahh...oh gods...Aemond!” your cries echoed off the stone walls as you said his name for the first time and he pushed you relentlessly towards your peak. Your back arched off the bed, your nails raking down his scalp as you held him close, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“Yes...yes! Don't stop...please don't stop...” you babbled incoherently, lost to the maelstrom of sensation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you shattered, your release ripping through you with the force of a tidal wave.

As your climax crashed over you, Aemond drank in your essence, reveling in the taste of your release. He lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure until you finally went limp beneath him, panting and dazed.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed up at your flushed face. He crawled up your body, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to plunder the sweetness of your mouth.

“Now, let us see how well you respond to other pleasures,” he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple into a stiff peak. “We have only just begun to explore the depths of your devotion.”

Your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired. Aemond's control over your body was absolute, leaving you weak and pliant in his grasp. Yet even as you trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, a thrill of anticipation coursed through you at his words.

“Other pleasure?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the fear that lingered, a spark of curiosity ignited within you, drawing you deeper into the unknown realm Aemond promised to show you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath as he fondled them. The sensation of his calloused palm against your tender flesh sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core, making you ache for more.

Aemond's smile was a wicked curve of his lips as he watched your reaction, delighting in the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I speak of the exquisite agonies of pleasure, cousin. The kind that make you scream and beg for mercy even as you crave more. The sort that leave you trembling and spent, yet yearning for the next touch, the next thrust...”

His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the juncture of your thighs before dipping into your drenched folds. He circled your sensitive pearl, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“Shall I show you these delights, Beloved? Shall I push you to the very brink of madness and back again, all for my own entertainment?”

A shiver ran down your spine at Aemond's words, a delicious chill that mixed with the heat building inside you. His touch was both gentle and ruthless, coaxing out responses you didn't know you possessed. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he stroked your most intimate places, seeking more friction and relief.

“Y-yes please...” you breathed, the word torn from you on a moan. Your hands came up to tangle in his long silver hair, holding him close as if to anchor yourself against the storm of sensations he unleashed.

Aemond's fingers danced across your sensitive flesh, pushing you higher and higher until you teetered on the edge of another release. Your vision blurred, your lungs burned for air, and still he teased, denying you the release you craved.

“Please...I need more,” you whined.

Aemond chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your quivering form. He released your pearl, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh before gripping your hip possessively.

“More, hmm?”

He leaned back, his piercing gaze drinking in every flush of color on your skin, every hitch of your breath. “Very well, cousin. Let us see how you fare against my cock.”

With a swift motion, he shed his trousers, freeing his rigid length. It stood proud and unyielding, the tip already glistening with pearly wetness. Aemond grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them.

Your eyes widened as Aemond revealed his manhood, the sight of it making your mouth go dry. The size and shape were intimidating, but a part of you thrilled at the prospect of being stretched so completely. You nodded, unable to find your voice as he spread your legs wider, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.

“Are you ready to be filled, to be claimed in the most primal way possible?” He asked, his voice a husky growl.

"Yes...” you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Aemond's grip on your ankles tightened as he aligned himself with your entrance. The head of his cock pressed against your slick folds, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the intrusion.

“Please don't hurt me,” you whispered, your voice tinged with desperation.

Aemond's expression softened slightly at your plea, though the intent in his eye remained unchanged - a fierce, almost feral hunger. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I would never harm you, sweetling," he paused, "at least not unless you begged me to."

With that, he surged forward, his thick cock driving into your welcoming heat in one powerful stroke. Your cry echoed through the chamber as you were split open around him, your body stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groaned, pausing for a moment to let her adjust. His hips flexed, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace. So fucking perfect...

A sharp cry tore from your throat as Aemond's massive cock impaled you, the sudden invasion sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last.

"Gods...it's too much..." you panted, struggling to breathe through the intensity of the sensation. “You're so big...”

Despite the discomfort, your body seemed to mold itself to his, craving the stretch and fullness he provided. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in even further.

“More...give me more...” you whimpered, your hips rising to meet his punishing rhythm.

Aemond grunted in satisfaction at your wanton pleas, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by your keening cries.

“That's it, take it all,” he growled, his hand fisting in your hair as he angled your head back. “Scream for me, let everyone hear how thoroughly I'm claiming you.”

His free hand slid between your joined bodies, finding your swollen pearl and rubbing mercilessly. The dual stimulation had you writhing beneath him, your body wound tighter than a bowstring.

"Come for me, Beloved,” Aemond demanded, his voice rough with lust. “Come on my cock like the desperate little maiden you are.”

The words fell from Aemond's lips like honeyed poison, stoking the flames of your desire until they consumed you whole. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision blurring at the edges as ecstasy coursed through your veins.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes!” you screamed, your voice echoing off the stone walls.

Your inner muscles spasmed wildly around Aemond's pistoning cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pressure building at the base of your spine reached a fever pitch before exploding outward in a burst of pure bliss.

“Aemond!” your name was a ragged gasp as you convulsed beneath him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Aemond threw his head back with a triumphant roar as your orgasm triggered his own. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot seed deep into your clencing cunt. Each jet seemed to last an eternity, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

“Take it all,” he snarled, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every drop was absorbed by your eager flesh. “You're mine now, forever and always.”

As the final spurts subsided, Aemond collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he savored the aftermath of their coupling.

When Aemond's release flooded your womb, you felt a sense of profound completion wash over you. Your body went limp beneath him, utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

“Yours...” you echoed softly, the word falling from your kiss-swollen lips in a daze. “Forever and always...”

As exhaustion tugged at you, your limbs grew heavy, and the events of the day settled over you like a warm, thick blanket. Nestled in Aemond’s arms, you felt a strange comfort, a warmth you’d scarcely known, drawing you closer into his embrace as sleep beckoned. The solid strength of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all that held you tethered as your eyes drifted shut.

“Rest now, my love,” he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rasp, laced with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his intentions. “We have much to discuss when you’ve recovered.”

Even as you slipped into the gentle embrace of sleep, Aemond remained vigilant, his gaze never leaving you. His mind churned with plans and possibilities, already anticipating the obstacles that lay ahead. He knew that securing his claim upon you—upon both of you—would not come easily.

His arm tightened around you, a silent vow to protect, to possess, to keep you from any force that might try to tear you from him. Whatever it took, no matter the cost, you would remain his. He would allow no other fate.

A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips as he studied your sleeping face, taking in the softness of your features, the way your hair curled against your cheek. Tonight, he would let himself bask in the satisfaction of knowing you were his, that he had claimed your body and heart as surely as he had marked it.

“Sleep well, my queen,” he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your brow with uncharacteristic gentleness. His thumb lingered a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek, committing every detail to memory.

“Tomorrow, I take you to your new home.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x you #aemond targaryen smut

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nightingale-prompts · 2 months ago

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Finding Batboy

First| Previous | Next

Phantom

King

Fenton

Apprentice

Batboy

He just wanted to be Danny. Just Danny, nothing else.

But who was Danny anymore?

Danny was a 14-year-old boy who died in a tragic accident. Danny had a decent life with friends and a sister who he loved. Danny wanted to be an astronaut and loved the stars. Danny had an astrology phase that made him so annoying to everyone but Sam. Danny liked dogs and cats hated him for no reason no matter how much he loved them. Danny wanted to join the robotics club with Tucker. Danny still snuck into his sister's room when he was scared to sleep in her bed.

But Danny is dead. Danny has been dead for years now.

He missed being Danny.

Now he was Phantom.

No past.

No home.

No family.

But if that was true, what did that make Dick?

Just another person that he would have to leave behind. It wouldn't be long. History doesn't repeat but it rhymes. It can't last. It won't.

Danny flew to some abandoned factory located somewhere in Gotham. He hadn't really paid much attention. He just needed a desolate place to land. Somewhere even the ghosts have long abandoned.

Truthfully Danny didn't want to be alone. A part of him felt the urge to find that revenant that he had met. Something that felt familiar to him, someone that could understand.

But right now Danny wanted to rest and he wasn't picky about where. He wrapped his wings in a tight cocoon and plopped on the ground. His sleep was deep, more than he ever remembered having before, except once.

Danny walked through the halls of a spiraling tower that overlooked the Ghost Zone. The tower was decorated with stars and moons. Mist hovered just above the floor creating a icy blue carpet. Ghost sheep napped in corners. The scent of poppy and pine filled the air.

As Danny ascended to the top he met with a familiar face. Nocturne the ghost of dreams. The ghost's thick bridged nose reminded Danny of that of a sheep that matched his curled ramhorns. His red eyes with horizontal pupils reminded him of a demonic ram he had seen in a horror movie once. Danny could practically hear that line again: "Would thou like to live deliciously?"

It still gave Danny chills.

"Please refrain from making such comparisons." Nocturne said, his voice deep but soft at the same time.

Danny had gotten to know Nocturne some time ago. Apparently, he and Clockwork were close. They shared a high rank among ghosts as they were abstract manifestations rather then being that were once living like some. The hierarchy of ghosts was complex, and Nocturne was not someone to look down on.

"Nox, why am I here?" Danny said standing before the seven-foot frame of the amorphous ghost.

"You are spending too much time in the material realm. If you don't get time back in the realm to which you belong you'll go mad. It's already starting to happen. I stole your mind away for a bit to give you a mental break but your body is already starting to break down." Nocturne said waving a finger at him.

"My body and brain are fine Nox." Danny said crossing his arms.

Nocturne picked the boy up with one hand and held him at eye level.

"You are having trouble shifting are you not? Its not coming as easily as it should. The more attached you get to a form without the energy from our world to break it up the worse it will be. The Ghost of Time has already told me of the problem. You must stay here for the time being and recover. It is what's best. Mental weakness is the worst one can suffer and the remedy is sleep." Nocturne's breath smelled like warm milk and cinnamon. It calmed Danny's nerves and made his eyes heavy.

Clockwork had put him up to this. That old man...really was....annoying....Zzzz.

Back in the world of the living and awake mass panic has broken out.

Batboy is currently missing and Nightwing is not handling it well. The entirety of the Gotham Vigilantes team has been notified and is searching the cities of Gotham and Bludhaven.

"Have you searched the docks?" Nightwing asked frantically as he searched every rooftop in the city.

"I'm working on it. Do you really think he's here?" Red Robin said scanning every unit on the lot.

Red Hood didn't know what the BatBoy kid looked like other than the whole wings thing. If his little buddy Phantom could help it would help.

Although they had a slight resemblance Jason could see too many differences when looking at the pictures. Phantom had round ears, and silver hair that moved like fire and looked like a human. Batboy had long sharp ears, claws, pointy teeth, blueish-green skin, wings, and a white fluff around his neck. Clearly, they were different.

Batman searched the dark allies of Gotham as Signal and Orphan split up to cover as much ground as possible. Oracle searched every camera from the past few hours for the boy.

The good news was that Batboy was found. The bad news was who found him.

"Poor little Bluebird lost his fledgling and Batsy is looking for the lost pup. I should let them know that the little guy has been found! Ahahahaha!"

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #nightwing #dick grayson #jason todd #red hood #red robin #tim drake #bruce wayne #dc joker

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ckret2 · 16 days ago

Text

The second dimension has just been burned; Bill—who's definitely an innocent victim in this situation and totally didn't have anything to do with the fire—is inside the nightmare realm "dream realm" with a bunch of dying shapes from the neighboring dimensions that also caught fire; like a million gods are at the scene of the fire trying to figure out what happened; and the Axolotl's just been hit with a nonstop barrage of cosmic horror. But he's about to face an even greater horror: watching politicians and contractors try to get a single task done.

Here, have a fic. It's part three of a series about the Axolotl witnessing the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre before anyone's even figured out what happened or whose fault it is. Here's part one and part two.

####

Outside what used to be the incinerated wall named Dimension 2 Delta, what seemed like half a city's worth of gods had assembled within just a few hours: agents from the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force, concerned local politicians, firefighters, cops, paramedics, reporters, rubberneckers, and volunteers. The scene was one of simmering panic being just barely suppressed by training and professionalism: everyone there had a job to do, everyone there was focused on doing it, and none of them knew whether it would be enough.

Behind what used to be the incinerated wall named Dimension 2 Delta, where there was supposed to be an empty void with the point-sized Dimension Zero, there was now a multicolored cosmic foam, frothing and roiling nauseatingly in a way reminiscent of waking from a fever dream to discover that you're actively in a state of delirium and behind the wheel on the freeway. Only the Axolotl knew that, inside that foam, there was a mad dance party of the enslaved dead and dying, overseen by the party host ghost who called himself the Magister Mentium.

Neighboring what used to be the incinerated wall named Dimension 2 Delta, five 1D and 2D dimensions had been burned down to nothingness. The ATTF had just confirmed that a sixth had joined them, two more were well on their way to full incineration, and there were unconfirmed reports trickling in that efforts to contain the fire had failed and two more 1D dimensions were burning up like fuses. The flat and linear living beings of thousands of worlds had been rescued; shapes huddled together uncomfortably on 3D worlds, evicted ghosts haunted ghost worlds, and gods who had once seen themselves as above all mortal concerns now found themselves sitting shellshocked in an "above" they'd never imagined—and they were the lucky ones. The ones who hadn't burned up in the pale blue fires or fallen down into the eternal dance party.

And amidst it all—all the fear, the fire, the death, the panic—the desperate attempts by gods that didn't know each other or didn't like each other to find a way to make this right—those who thought a crisis of such interdimensional magnitude called for kindness and compassion verbally wrestling with those who thought it called for punishment and control—a Time Giant in a hard hat, whistling a country song she'd heard on the radio that morning, completely ignored everyone else there, strolled right up to the sickly swirling border of Dimension Zero as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and started looking around for the wall named Dimension 2 Delta she'd been called out to inspect.

She was dressed in goggles, a flannel shirt, sensible overalls, and leather work gloves. There were several tools strapped to her belt: a time tape measure, a space hammer, and a utility repair kit with patches and sewing needles for making quick mends to the fabric of reality. She eyed Dimension Zero's undulating border, glanced down at her tiny repair kit, and frowned dubiously. It seemed that the problem she'd been called out for was too big to hand stitch back together. She shrugged in resignation.

The cop who looked like a crab with two mushrooms growing out of his hollowed-out eye sockets smacked one claw against the cop made of two interlocked burning rings. "Hey. Is she supposed to be here?"

VENDOR turned, took in the Time Giant's appearance, and shouted, "Hello! Excuse me? What are you doing?"

She gestured with a thumb at Dimension Zero. "I was called about a prematurely crunched dimension. Here to do an inspection."

Irritably, VENDOR said, "You're supposed to be inspecting Dimension 2 Delta, not—this thing!"

"Well, I don't see D-2Δ around here. Looks to me like it's gone," she said. "Some jackass has been blowing up my office phone all day trying to rush me out here. I had to cancel three other inspections, call another guy in on his day off, and come out myself to get this over with so we can shut this guy up. So I ain't here to stand around painting my fingernails. Unless you can point me to D-2Δ, I'm gonna inspect the dimension that is here."

VENDOR, the jackass in question, said, "I'm the one who called you and I'm saying you can't go in!"

"Uh huh." Behind her goggles, the Time Giant's expression was completely unreadable. "Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go do my job."

The flaming rings whirled between the Time Giant and Dimension Zero's border, hundred eyes narrowed threateningly. "This is an active crime against reality! It's still under investigation."

"Then what was the big rush to get me out here!"

The argument was clearly audible over the general din as the Axolotl and the storm cloud with the ATTF returned from inspecting one of the many out-of-control fires. "Cops," the storm rumbled. "Hate cops."

The Axolotl's frills fluttered in agreement. "Interesting from an apocalypse cop."

Static crackled irritably over the cloud. "I prefer 'apocalypse agent.'"

As they caught up, the Time Giant was saying, "I ain't got time for this." She pulled out a length of time tape without unlatching the measure from her belt. "So when won't this place be an active crime scene?"

"Hold on!" The cloud flicked VENDOR's metal side with a lightning bolt to catch THEIR attention. The crack of thunder startled the Time Giant and cops into looking its way as well. To VENDOR, it snapped, "This isn't your investigation, back off." To the cops, it said, "And this is not a crime scene." To the Time Giant, it said, "I put in the initial call. Dimension 2 Delta spontaneously combusted; we want to know why. He says"—it gestured toward the Axolotl with a fork of lightning—"whatever's left of it is in there, so that might as well be where you start your investigation."

"Thank you," the Time Giant sighed. She let the tape snap back into place. "ATTF, right?"

"Right."

"I prefer to get my info from whoever's actually in charge of a dimension. So, we got any gods that can tell me about 2Δ—property owner, in-house maintenance...?"

There was suddenly a large wall of steel and glass in between the storm cloud and the Time Giant as VENDOR physically shoved THEIR way back into the conversation. "2Δ is in Lady Morgenstern's district, but she's still on vacation—(and apparently decided this incident wasn't worth coming back into the office for)—but, I am on the urban planning committee. If there's anything you need to know, you can talk to me. I can request any municipal records we have on 2Δ's construction and maintenance."

The Time Giant screwed up her mouth. "How long will that take?"

"A few hours, most likely."

The Time Giant's scowl deepened.

She wouldn't get anything useful from a career politician from a different district who knew bupkis about Dimension 2 Delta. The Axolotl said, "If you need somebody who personally knows 2Δ, I... might know someone. A mortal from the wall."

"Uh-huh." The Time Giant didn't look much less dubious about this offering. "It better be a mortal that's at least a quantum physicist. Preferably one with experience in dimensional maintenance."

"I... don't know." The Axolotl nearly added I don't think so—but he was growing less certain he knew what that triangle was capable of, and he didn't like his suspicions. "But—he is an eyewitness to Dimension 2 Delta's destruction from the inside."

The Time Giant chewed on that; then sighed, pointed at VENDOR, and said, "Okay, you request whatever files you can get," and pointed at the Axolotl and said, "In the meantime, I'll talk to your guy. Where is he?"

"Turn around, jumbo."

The group flinched in surprise. They turned toward the missing wall and the grotesquely bloated singularity behind it.

From the zeroth dimension's impossible border, the shining yellow triangle, hardly larger than a fleck of dust, blinked blearily out into the third dimension. He was holding a red plastic cup and wearing a party hat. He looked very much like a hungover homeowner trying to sign for a package at 7 in the morning.

They stared at him.

VENDOR demanded, "What in the world are you?"

"I'm a triangle," said the triangle.

"You're not supposed to be in there. Get out."

"Hmm! Let me think! No!" He floated up to camera level with VENDOR, apparently not noticing he'd started tilting at an angle. "Why don't you make me?"

"How dare—! Do you know who you're talking to, mortal?"

"Nope. I only know the people worth knowing."

The Axolotl had to choke back a laugh as VENDOR's lights buzzed brighter with irritation.

The cloud quietly asked, "Your friend from 2Δ?"

The Axolotl nodded. "This is the Magister Mentium. He's the only survivor of Dimension 2 Delta. That I know of, anyway." He looked to the triangle, hoping he'd tell him that he was wrong—that the triangle's dancers really were his people from his own dimension.

But the triangle neither confirmed nor denied the claim. He just shot the Axolotl a dirty look. The Axolotl's heart sank.

"Are you sure he 'survived'?" VENDOR asked. "He doesn't appear to have a body. I don't think he's alive."

"What's with everyone's obsession with how alive I am today," the triangle griped. "Hey, worlds-for-guts! Come over here and I'll show you how 'lively' I can be."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"Beg harder."

The crab cop snapped his claws. "You think you can threaten a god? Better watch your mouth, mortal."

"Oh, now I'm mortal again!" The triangle laughed. "Hey, make up your minds! Am I dead or not?"

"I warned you—!"

The Axolotl quietly inserted himself between the two, muttering to the crab, "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that 2Δ isn't one of the dimensions hubris is illegal in?" From the corner of an eye, he could see the triangle pinching his fingers in mocking imitation of the cop's claw snaps. He blocked the triangle from the cop's view.

"It is up here—"

"He isn't up here. He's down there." The Axolotl stared at the crab until he backed off.

Throughout all this, the Time Giant was surveying the triangle dubiously, jaw set in an unimpressed line. Finally, she asked him, "Is uh—is your god home...?" (Even as tense as he was, the Axolotl had to fight back a chuckle. You could always tell when someone wasn't used to talking to mortals.)

"There's no gods here," the triangle retorted. "I'm the magister of this dream realm. So who're you and whaddaya want?"

No gods came up to smite the triangle for denying their existence, so the Time Giant shrugged and continued to address him: "Civil engineering inspector, cosmic structure maintenance. I'm here to figure out why D-2Δ collapsed, look over the place you're in now, see whether it's is up to code."

"Ugh, it's about time," the triangle groaned, as if he'd had any involvement in the Time Giant's appearance or any reason to expect her to be here. "According to these jokers, we got given a flimsy universe! Bad wiring or something!" (Had the triangle been eavesdropping on them the whole time?) "It'd explain a lot! The place wasn't very robust!" His irritated gaze circled the group of "jokers" in question—Axolotl, storm cloud, vending machine, the cops—then did a double take at the cop made of two flaming wheels. "Whoa, and I thought frills here was the freak. How many eyes do you have?" He squinted and started trying to count them. The rings rotated irritably and the triangle flinched. "You can shapeshift 'em. Wowww, optometrists must hate you."

The Time Giant waved a hand between the triangle and the rings to get his attention back. "So you are in charge of whatever's left of D-2Δ in there?"

"Of course he's not," VENDOR said.

"Yep, that's me," the triangle said.

"Fantastic," said the Time Giant, loudly ignoring VENDOR. She pulled out a miniature clipboard strapped to the back of her toolbelt. "Then you get first priority in deciding what happens to the place, as long as it don't violate cosmic construction code. What's your ideal outcome here? Gut this dimension, clean out the rubble from D-2Δ, and rebuild somewhere else?"

"Don't even think about it," the triangle said. "Stabilize our dream realm."

VENDOR cut in again, "You can't expect to stay in there! A void at the center of the multiverse is no place for three million squatters—"

"You're way behind, Jack," the triangle said gleefully. "We're up to ten million now!"

THEY gasped in horror. "Ten million?!" THEY started cycling through THEIR stock of moons for one better sized for the population.

The request to stabilize the dimension gave the Time Giant pause, but before VENDOR could try to jump in again, she said, "Sure, got it." She made a note on her clipboard. "I'll look around, figure out if it can be repaired, make sure it isn't about to collapse around your ears—or whatever you have. Corners?"

"Great! I keep hearing this awful grinding noise! And the electromagnetism keeps flickering on and off! Can you do something about that?"

"I'm here to try," the Time Giant said. "Can I come in?"

The triangle hesitated. He looked to the Axolotl. "Hey, frills. Do you vouch for this freak?"

His gills fluffed in surprise at the question. Him? "Yes—she's a professional." The Apocalyptic Threat Task Force wouldn't have her on call if she wasn't dependable.

"All right," the triangle said. "Both of you come in. Welcome to the dream realm."

The Axolotl and Time Giant exchanged a look. She shrugged, scooped him into her arms like an oversized house cat, and headed into Dimension Zero.

####

"Wow. I've never seen nothing like this before." That was the fourth time the Time Giant had said that so far. (Two of them had been spent on the eternal dance party. She'd made eye contact with a square who was coughing an endless plume of black smoke out from around his dry and cracking eye, and the Axolotl—still being cradled in one arm—had felt her shudder before she deliberately turned away. If she was horrified, she was doing a better job of locking it away than the Axolotl had.) "Just moved in?"

"Pretty recently," the triangle said. "I can't tell you exactly when! I abolished time."

"Probably for the best. This place is a real fixer-upper—I don't know if it could handle time." She had started poking and prodding as soon as she entered Dimension Zero—feeling the quality of the fabric of reality, flipping open invisible breaker boxes to inspect the fundamental forces. She paused as she peered into one box. "Where's the gravity?"

"Beats the heck outta me! I gave up looking for it. Think I like it better without gravity." The triangle had been weaving around her during her whole inspection. He was still clearly under the influence—but now, the Axolotl was less certain what influence he was under. The more the Axolotl saw him separated from his eternal dance, the less he looked like a partied-out drunk, and more like he was distracted to the point of dissociation. His voice fluctuated randomly between "loud" and "too loud." He tilted and zigzagged when he moved, drifted when he tried to hold still. He simultaneously flickered around the dimension like an indecisive quantum particle that couldn't figure out where it existed and maintained a steady, unblinking, spotlight-like stare at the Time Giant and what she was doing. "But the gravity's nothing. A while ago, the weak atomic force went out for like a whole week; you can imagine what a pain that was to get working again!"

She whistled under her breath. "Is this your first reno project? Should've started with something simpler, like a 2D universe, and worked your way up to 3D. 1D's beginner-friendly too; but honestly, with all the restrictions it's not worth it unless you're really creative with portals. 2D's a reasonably accessible middle ground."

"We came from a 2D universe," the triangle said. "After all the work we put into getting to the third dimension, I'm not about to go back!"

"Fair enough." She shifted the Axolotl from where she'd been carrying him in her arm to set him up on her shoulder so she could free her hands. He draped over her shoulder with his tail hanging down her back to watch as she shined a flashlight into the breaker box. There were five switches labeled in marker on tape, "ELECTROMAGNETISM," "STRONG WEAK ATOMIC FORCE" "WEAK STRONG WEAK STRONG!!! ATOMIC FORCE," "????," and "???????? (DON'T TOUCH!!)" The weak atomic force switch was being held in the "on" position by a bundle of black rubber bands that, upon closer inspection, appeared to be made out of the triangle's own arms. The ???? switch had been replaced by a wormhole.

She prodded the wormhole with the butt of a pen. The triangle yelped and flinched. "Hey, whoa! If you're gonna get handsy, at least buy me dinner first!"

She stared at him, slowly shook her head, and muttered, "Never seen nothing like that before." She shut the breaker box. "Well, this place is no Goldilocks zone, but it's honestly kinda impressive it hasn't imploded yet."

"I'm taking that as a compliment!"

She put away her flashlight, pulled out her clipboard, and said, "So you mentioned a grinding sound. What's this grinding?"

"Right, that!" Now that she wasn't doing anything interesting worth watching, the triangle zoomed in front of her to make direct eye contact. "Every time I try to move, all of existence starts creaking and groaning."

"You're moving now and I don't hear anything."

The triangle rolled his eye. "I don't mean moving in here, I mean moving!"

She frowned.

The Axolotl suggested, "I think he's—at the center of the dimension. When he moves, we move... through the dimension. Perhaps he means when the dimension's literally moving with him?"

"Uh." The triangle squinted uncertainly. "Yyyes?"

"Huh. Dimensions shouldn't be moving." She unhooked her time tape from her belt, held it up in front of her, and said, "Can you move about... twenty lightminutes away?"

The triangle sighed heavily. "Yeah, sure." He zoomed off to the side. Existence seemed to zoom with him. The whole time he was moving, the Time Giant stretched out more of her time tape.

The Axolotl felt something very far away rumble.

"Is that all you needed, or are you gonna ask me to roll over and bark, too?"

"Haw haw," she said flatly. "Yeah, that's it." She glanced at the Axolotl. "How long did it feel to you like it took him to move?"

The Axolotl tried to think through the momentary vertigo. "Thirty, forty seconds?"

"Uh-huh. For him to move twenty lightminutes in thirty seconds, he'd be moving forty times the speed of light."

"Oh."

"Is that good?" the triangle called.

The Time Giant grimaced. "Well..."

"I can do it faster!"

"D—don't do it faster." She held up the time tape for the Axolotl to inspect. "Look at this."

Every measure mark on the tape was labeled 0 sec - 0 sec - 0 sec - 0 sec.

The Axolotl gave it a baffled look. "He did say he abolished time."

"Sure, but there's relative time, and then there's absolute time." Which was probably a statement that made sense to Time Giants, but all the Axolotl could guess was that she meant the time tape was not supposed to say zero seconds.

She let the tape retract and stroked her chin with a gloved hand. After a moment of thought, she said, "Lemme check something out."

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 3 of a probably-7-part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. Here's part one and part two if you missed it. I'm posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl slowly discover just how much of a monster that silly triangle he likes really is.

It's ALSO chapter 61 PART THREE of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. I'm gonna fix the chapter numbering once I know how many chapters this plot is. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a oneshot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: okay, I lied that last week was the least horrifying chapter, but it's only because this chapter ran so long I decided to cut it in half. The horror comes next week. Enjoy this brief lull while everyone acts like this is a totally normal property inspection.

Anyway, lemme know what y'all think, and next week we're right back on the cosmic horror!)

#gravity falls axolotl #the axolotl #euclydia #bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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dcxdpdabbles · 16 days ago

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I had an idea while reading demon & angel brat.

Instead of like faking time travel stuff, the reason no-one remembers Danny is BC he's actually in the wrong timeline after his batfam got killed or something... Prolly doesn't make much sense but like. He's not completely in their universe, but he knows they're his family and he's gotta keep them safe

Danny has been watching them for days now. When his family had died back home, he had run into the Ghost Zone in an attempt to make sure he didn't go mad with grief.

He couldn't afford to let Dan have access to the human world, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to stay away completely.

So, he found a world similar to his but slightly different. In this one, his dad was a fit billionaire, and his mother a dangerous assassin. Jazz didn't exist, nor did Tucker or Sam, but he had more siblings than he could count. Adopted siblings since his father was unmarried and seemed to have a knack for taking in strays.

Jack Fenton once said he would take in any child if the family could afford it. Danny always admired the man for his open heart and warm disposition. It's nice to know that those traits were a universal constant.

Danny had been devastated by his older sister's absence, but he had made a promise to Clockwork that he would never go back to the Zone. To ensure Danny kept his world, access to this world and the Realms was sealed.

Who was he now in a world without Jasmin Fenton? A world that never had her?

It turns out the answer was a homeless boy who watched his father and his children whenever they went out in public. He was starving and freezing and only survived due to his powers, but it was all worth it if he could hear Jack Fenton's laughter even from afar.

They did not need another son, and Danny didn't want to replace what he had lost; he just wanted a reminder of what once was. He figured he was excellently spying on them, always staying behind an object or within the shadows, never too close to hear what they were talking about but able to read their lips.

The Waynes—his family's name in this world—always seemed larger than life. They wore the best of the best, laughed and smiled without a care in the world, and the love between them was so evident it made his heart squeeze. If Danny's new life was created by shadows, the Waynes were the sunlight.

They seemed so bright, so light, so happy to be alive that sometimes Danny would imagine what it was like to be part of them. Then, he would feel guilty for even thinking of it. He came here not to go mad with grief over the loss of his real family.

Trying to be a part of a new one would insult his loved ones' memory.

Knowing this, Danny couldn't bring himself to leave his hiding place. He was ducking behind three trash bins, the press of the small rocks in his knees the only discomfort he felt.

Across the street, the Waynes had entered a bakery cafe and were visible through the large window. They were studying the menu, facing away from him, but seemed to be poking fun good naturally, even at something as simple as ordering coffee.

Danny's heart squeezed again. It ached worse than the empty pit in his stomach. At one point, Damian gestured to the side of the building, likely going to the bathroom.

Danny follows his movement until he walks around the front into a small hallway. That one is him. They look too much alike to not be counterparts, but Damian had green eyes while Danny bore their father's. He sometimes wonders what would happen if they met, if they spoke. Would the universe collapse? Would he go mad?

Would nothing happen, and he would just have a conversation with a version of himself that still had everyone he loved? Danny didn't know but didn't feel it was right to risk it.

He always lost everything; there was no reason to cause the same fate to befall Damian Wayne.

Danny returns to watch the rest of the Waynes, taking in Tim, Steph, and Jason's playful roughhousing. Bruce- his dad!- is watching the scene in the same way, absentminded goof that his Dad used to watch Jazz and Danny.

Dick, Cass, and Duke weren't part of the roughhousing as they were busy sharing drinks and taking pictures of their pastries. When he's been watching them, he discovered those three run a food blog- he used the library to look up the Waynes- and would likely write a review about it later.

They looked so happy.

The food looks so good, too.

His stomach growls, digging its hunger into his soul, and Danny can only press his hand against it in hopes of controlling the pain. He lost a lot of weight when he arrived. He caught a glimpse of himself in the library window and was sure if his family saw him now, they wouldn't recognize him.

He was far too dirty and skinny now. His eyes burn a little from the shame, but he shakes it away. Danny rarely sees them in public like this. Usually, the Waynes are seen going from fancy cars to fancy buildings, and Danny can only watch them for a few seconds.

He can't waste time on his sadness when he rarely could watch them for so long in person.

One of them must have said something funny because Bruce throws his head back into a roaring laugh. Danny drinks in his joy, recognizing Jack Fenton within the smaller face, and he can't help but smile at the sight even when it hurts.

"You look so happy, dad." He whispers, wondering if Jack can hear him. Maybe. Jazz before the ghosts used to say loved ones were always watching over them and could listen to them. "I hope you're happy."

"Hey! Get away from my trash!" a man yells from behind Danny. Danny whips around to find a scowling man in an apron inside the restaurant doorway. His hiding place was the alley between Robert's burgers and a laundry mat.

Danny usually tries to pull out unfinished food from their bins and has received multiple threats. He figured coming back in the day would make things easier to avoid the mean owner of Roberts when he spotted the Waynes.

It was dumb of him, especially since the man had a bat. He likely wasn't above hitting a kid if said kid was from the streets. Most people wouldn't step in for a street kid, too.

Quick as a flash, Danny scrambles out of the alley into the street with the man yelling insults behind him, heart beating a mile in his chest.

He misses Robin dropping down from the roof, kicking the bat out of the man's hands, and politely reminding him that he can not hit a minor. He also misses the way Robin stares into the direction he ran away in before he clips on his earpiece. The pain whimpers of a full-grown man mean nothing to him as he speaks.

"Father, I do not believe our stalker is dangerous. If anything, he seems to need our help." The young hero crouches down to pick up the forgotten bag the boy left behind. He finds a half-eaten pudding cup and narrows his eyes at it. "I gathered some DNA. We will know who he is real soon."

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #The Lost son of the Bat #Danny dimension travels #Stalking the Waynes #But also not taking good care of himself #He doesn't know how since he always had a safe home and warm food #The Waynes knew he was there

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