#Constantine bikes

[alexsacalxot]

Out for a ride 🫡

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DPXDC Yeah, Mechanic.

Danny is a good friend of the Wayne's, they met in Extenuating Circumstances TM and he's in the loop about the Batman Thing and they know he's Phantom on the side. He works in WE R&D department as an engineer but gets called up to the Watchtower to repair busted vehicles and such. Danny's worked on Kon's Sphere, the various superhero themed motorbikes, and on one memorable occasion Megan's Bio Ship.

Due to being kinda dead and having done so much random ass somewhat magic shit, he has this aura anyone just past the point of normal human can feel. He emits the same ominous vibes as the Lazarus to the Bats, itches in the back of Constantine's skull the same way a powerful demon would, and to the speedsters standing next to him has the same wrong, tense feeling as tearing through the time stream.

But he's just a mechanic.

.

Red Tornado: ...

Danny:...

Red Tornado: Who are you?

Danny: Danny Fenton, mechanic.

Red Tornado: You don't seem to appear on my heat sensors, you were brought here as a mechanic?

Danny: yeah, *already turning around* mechanic.

.

Danny: Please step away from the bike.

Beast Boy: *puffed up like a cat* Don't touch my bike man

Danny: Do you want it fixed or not?

Robin: Dude stop harassing him, he's the new mechanic.

Beast Boy: That guy's our new mechanic??!

Danny: Yeah, mechanic.

.

Kid Flash: So,, who are you?

Danny: *half way under a disassembled vehicle* Danny Fenton.

Kid Flash: And what are you doing?

Danny: fixing your messes like normal

Kid Flash: What was that last bit???

Danny: Like a normal mechanic.

Kid Flash: 0_0

[emo-batboy]

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

[thevoidstaredback]

An hour after sunrise and all trails had been dead ends. Well, all but one.

Superman and The Flash had regrouped outside of Amity Park, both reporting their lack of findings. No one was thrilled and frustrations were only heightened. Constantine and Zatanna had reported much the same, though they only increased their efforts to find the ghosts.

Cyborg was looking into Amity Park's Mayor, but he wasn't expected to have any results for another ten minutes at the soonest. Robin and his team didn't have any headway on the Missing Person's case.

Everyone was anxious.

Batman's first course of action was to send The Flash and Superman out again, though he wanted Kid Flash and Impulse to go with Flash while Superboy went with Superman. That would leave Robin, Wonder Girl, and Red Huntress in Amity Park. They'd have to make due.

"Flash, take Kid Flash and Impulse and to another run of the country. Superman, you and Superboy are gonna search everywhere else again. Be meticulous."

The Flash groaned, crumpling up the empty wrapper he now held in his hand before stashing it in Batman's utility belt. "We were meticulous before," he said. He was quick the call both of the speedsters before running off to start again, going from Washington State and moving East.

Superman was quick to do the same, though he didn't like the idea of working with Superboy, he'd do so for the sake of the world. The feeling was mutual. Superman started his search in Asia while Superboy started in South America.

Batman quietly wished he had his bike with him to make the trip faster, but he didn't complain as he walked the few miles to Amity Park. Robin and his team hadn't been able to get to the Fenton Portal, as he was now calling it, so he was going to get there himself. Hopefully, Cyborg will have information about the Mayor ready for him so that he can hit two bats with one stone.

***

Barry was even more meticulous as he ran back across the USA. He had taken Alaska, the Western and Southwestern States; Wally was checking the Midwestern and Southern States; and Bart was in the Mid Atlantic and New England States.

He didn't know their time limit, but he knew there was one. They all knew it, they just didn't know what it was.

Turning over every stone he could find in the West and Alaska took up the entire first half of the day. There was so much empty space everywhere, but the cities were packed tightly together and overflowing. It wa hard to find any one specific thing, especially while trying not to tip off civilians about the crisis.

He had yet to see any ghosts anywhere. He'd even spend some time in places that were rumored to be haunted, but those all seemed baren of anything other than dust. Though, there were signs of something having been there recently, but no signs of anything being there currently. It freaked him out.

High Noon was an ironic time to end up in the Southwestern United States.

If Barry thought the West was full of space, the Southwest had it topped by barrels. Cities were far apart, but closely packed with people. The space between cities was dotted with towns and ranches an animals. He decided to needed a very detailed map of the US because this was just ridiculous.

Again, Barry took time to check places that were supposed to house ghosts, but they all came up empty. Every ghost town was very lacking in ghosts! If he hadn't seen swarms of them- hell, if he didn't occasionally work with a ghost, he'd think he was wasting his time. As it was, however, the haunts he was visiting were so much more eerie now that he knew they were empty when they weren't supposed to be.

His mind wandered back to what Deadman had said. The US Government had taken a child. A ghost child, but a child all the same. They'd been operating under the nose of the Justice League for who knows how long! And they were only just nowhearing about it.

It made him feel horrible.

Not for the first time, he wondered how people could be so cruel.

Anything could be happening to that ghost child and they'd have no clue about it until they found him. Hell, if Deadman hadn't brought it to the JLD, who brought it to the JL, then none of them would've had a clue at all!

It made him sick.

Focus! He needs to focus on the task at hand. He can dwell later when the kid is safe with his people- safe away from the government that hurt him.

Had the kid been a US Citizen before he died? Probably, right? It would make sense. Phantom - that was his name, right? - had probably been a citizen of Amity Park before he died. How long had he been dead? How had he died? Who would be careless enough to let a child die? Had it been an accident? Had it been on purpose? If so, who could be heartless enough to murder a child in cold blood?

Barry isn't religious, not like some of the other heroes, but he knows that most religions view children as pure; incapable of committing wrongs. Hell, almost everyone in the world holds those same views! So how could someone, in clear conscious, hurt a child in any way?

His eyes blurred slightly at the thought.

Focus, Barry! You need to focus!

He forced his mind to stop wandering, not allowing himself to stray anymore from his objective. He was almost to the border of Texas and Louisiana. He'd double back as many times as it took to find Phantom.

The sun set over Illinois, USA.

Tick Tock...

Part 5 Part 7

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 7 part 1/2

Masterpost

“I see,” said Alfie, hands full of breakfast dishes. “When can I expect you to return home, Miss Cassandra?” Calm. Composed. She followed at his back with the empty water and juice pitchers.

She hummed, doing math in her head. 90 minutes on a fast bike, unknown time there, 90 minutes back. “Dinner?” Cass guessed. “Will message again at 3 with updated estimate.” She put the pitchers down beside the sink silently.

Alfie gave a brisk nod at that sensible plan. Approval. “Very well, Miss. Please drive carefully.” He paused. “And do not forget hydration and your sunscreen.”

“Love you too,” she said, and went to put on the sunscreen. Then she was a whirlwind to get ready. Athletic undersuit, first. Pullover mask in the back, a long hood design that hooked back in on itself. Convenient! Gloves in black jeans pockets. Ankle boots, good for kicking and for driving. 

Cass put her flying suit in her student backpack and put her hands on her hips. She looked around. Room? Clean enough. Equipment? Packed. Reasonable projection of needs? Cass crinkled up her brow and made her best judgment. Probably minimal. Combat not expected, companion powerful. 

“Jacket,” Cass muttered to herself, sudden realization! She darted across the house to get it. The green jacket was important. It was a talisman. It was representative. It was a civilian flying suit that reminded her she was powerful and beautiful. 

When she had it on, she went back for her student back bag and then left from the upper level garage. Black bike, nondescript. Mid range price. 

Cass paused astride the bike, feet firmly planted on either side on the crunchy white gravel of their long driveway. She unzipped the front left pocket and withdrew her phone. To Marvel, she said,

🦇 🏍️ ⬆️ == 1.5 h ⌚ 

Then she opened a new message to Batdad. She didn’t want him to worry. So she said,

💕 👋🏼  🏍️ 

The last person to get a message was Stephanie, who was not flying because she was still in medical schooling. Cass sent,

Just because it was funny. It would make Stephanie laugh.

Then she was off.

Cass pulled her black bat hood down when she found the right area. It was day. Many stares that she loftily ignored. The meeting spot wasn’t Gotham or Fawcett. The laughing magician was in dingy small town, smoking and drinking. Captain Marvel found him first and hauled him out, friendly arm over shoulder. Cass crouched on the roof of nextdoor building to silently peer down, batting a little for the comfort factor of bat things. He was still big-man Marvel-lie, but with new clothes. Happy face with torn jeans and t-shirt. She squinted. Same Marvel shoes. Hmm. No budget, Cass decided. If any budget, better shoes.

Constantine blinked up at Captain Marvel, dazed from alcohol but interested in big handsome man. “Where are you taking me, prettyboy?” He slurred. He was a mess. He reached up and cupped Marvel’s face.

Cass moved. 

Constantine noticed her rapid approach and stumbled upright. Eyes sharp, intelligent. Then: dismay. “Fuck,” he said. Very unhappy. Genuine dislike. “A bat. Which one are you?” Disdain. 

Cass frowned. “Hands off,” she demanded. She crossed her arms. “He’s baby.”

“What?” Marvel said, sounding distressed. Ah. He didn’t know that she knew.

“Really?” Constantine said, wrinkling his face up and looking between her and Marvel pointedly. Because he was a foolish little man who didn’t understand facts that walked into his life. “A nightmare like you pulled this bloke? Fuck my life.”

Yes. A nightmare. Your nightmare.

Cass stretched her mask mouth wider so the teeth would stretch and pull even bigger. She leered at him with all her scariness. He looked like he wished she would leave. Wondered if he made good decision. Regret. Regret. I run my big damn mouth.

“Hey!” Marvel rallied, totally missing the body language interplay. “She’s not a nightmare! Black Bat is very kind and smart.” He put his hands on his hips, which happily meant he had to stop supporting middle-aged wizard weight.

Constantine said some curses under his voice that she didn’t know. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. The rattling from inside told Cass: three cigarettes. No metal, no secret hidden weapon unless it closely resembled cigarette shape. Maintain wariness. He lit it on fire with his fingers.

What? No lighter? Cass saw no lighter.

While Cass was busy frowning about that the wizard turned on his heel. “Toodles,” he said, and then Marvel grabbed him. 

“Wait! We need your professional help.”

“Do I look like I’m working?” Grungy wizard demanded. He waved a hand up and down his body, showing off his sleeveless tank top and tight pants. 

“Yes.” Black Bat took a couple steps closer. She knew this. “You were working. You’re not so intoxicated. You were running a scam for funding. You need money?” She kept anything out of her tone that could sound like judgment, leaving it cold and empty. No-nonsense. “I pay for consultation.”

Grungy wizard paused, looking her up and down. He took a drag on his cigarette. Stinky wizard. He blew it out at Marvel, RUDE wizard. “Really?” He was dubious. “Where’s the catch?” Stinky wizard scrunkled his face at her. “Usually it’s all ‘you owe it to the world, it’s for the good of humanity, don’t you have any decency?” with you people.

Cass rolled her eyes. “Can we cut the-” her eyes darted to Marvel. “Bullshit?” she finished, because it was the right word even if there were little ears present. “One thousand dollars American.”

Captain Marvel looked at her, eyes wide. Shocked. Envy. Small.

Oh. She hid her sudden bad feeling. 

“...Make it one and a half thousand, Bird, that’s a love,” oozed the Stinky Wizardman. He didn’t expect, but-

“Fine.” Cass said briskly. She didn’t want to spend a lot of time on money. She pulled out her wallet and withdrew one hundred dollar bills until she had 15. The Wizard cursed jealousy and ran a hand through his hair. Marvel was fascinated. Hmm. She held it out.

The wizard wanted it. He looked. He really wanted it. But: wary. No trust. Can’t trust a bat.

She let out a disgusted sigh. Black Bat shook the bills at him impatiently. “My Black Bat fund,” she said, in a tone that meant ‘do you have a brain that thinks thoughts?’ She continued, “For my use in-suit. Obviously real money. Obviously non-consecutive legal tender.” Duh.

“Okie Dokie!” Marvel said cheerfully. “We’re back on track.”

The wizard snatched it and stuffed it in his back pocket, hungry dog, don’t take it from me, I need it. “Let’s not talk here. I have a hotel room.” 

‘Did the stinkyman invite Marvel-baby to his hotel?’

Cass cut the wizard a death look.

He coughed and avoided looking at her. 

That was a yes. “You’re a bad judge of people,” she told the wizard, voice full of disdain. “Yes. Let’s go.” She pointedly moved in between him and Marvel-baby. 

[phantom-dc]

A deal with the Ghost King

Part1 Part3 AO3

Bruce was concerned. Last night, the world had been on the brink of destruction. A flaming, Kryptonite meteorite had been on a collision course with Eart. No one was able to handle it, and the League had grown desperate. Many, Bruce included, had brought their friends and families in an attempt to save them. It was then they had agreed to let Constantine summon the mighty Ghost King.

But they had failed. The Ghost King had rejected their offer of souls, and demanded a better offering. The League had scrambled to come up with something valuable enough to please it. But before they could try again, the King had vanished, and the meteorite had been destroyed. After the initial shock and relief had worn off, Constantine had demanded awnsers. Someone had made a deal, but no one knew who. While Batman checked the camera's, Flash asked around if anyone had seen anything. No one had, and the Ghost King's presence interfered with the camera's. A deal had been made with the God of the dead, and no one knew what had been offered. Constantine made it clear that if anyone of the League noticed anything amiss to call him immediatly, and it was well known how much Constantine hates being on call. So Bruce decided to patrol a bit earlier then usual, right after dark. He had been on his balcony, as the sun had just set, casting the city in darkness.

Then the sky was filled with familiar green/blue lights.

----

Red Hood was following the Aurora Borealis on his bike. Jason had been worried when he realised he and Phantom had forgot to exchange phone numbers, but it seems he has no trouble making his presence known. Jason was sure the whole city could see it! Noticing the light rippled from Gotham cemetery outward (because of course a ghost-themed hero would pick that spot) Jason got there so fast he doubted the Flash couldve done better.

When he parked his bike, Phantom had noticed him and waved. When he floated closer however, he seemed confused. 'Wait, you're the Red Hood?' Jason realised he hadn't been wearing his iconic helmet in the Watchtower, and got a bit nervous. Had Phantom been unaware of the blood on his hands? Suprisingly, Phantom got excited: 'That's amazing! You're my favorite hero!' Jason was suprised: 'Really?' 'Yes! So many ghosts found peace because you avenged them. You're like a celebrity in the Realms!' Not used to the praise, Jason switched topics: 'So where do you wanna go? Honestly, it's kinda late and I don't think much is open now.' Phantom apologises. He wasn't certain his aura would have been visible in the sun. But he came prepared! Holding up a picnick basket, he suggest they visit the park chat so they can get to know eachother a bit better. Jason liked the plan. 'Let's go then, ghost boy.'

----

Looks like I'll have to split the date up in different parts! Enjoy the wild goose chase!

Edit: I am no longer tagging as I teached the limit and the story is on AO3, sorry.

@alice-hazelwood @spookytragedyshark @vythika96 @willak @sjrose1216 @shorterthanadverage @bruh-incoming @desertbogwitch @bun-fish @anon-ymous22 @overtherose @dracotheghostdragon @treepainting @the-church-grimm @emotional-otter @zelabee @smilingfox22-blog @vampiredp94 @leftmiraclechaos @impulsiveasshole @babbling-babull @wordsgohere95 @theamazingfox @regressor-marina @raspberry-muffin @scribbiesan-main @satanicrutialspecialist @meira-3919 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @terzatheunderscorerima @some-rotten-nest @wrenofthedumbasses @is-this-even-relatable @olivethetreebitch @my-mom-calls-me-rat @darlingatlas @blazeart @gunebugfic @chaos-n-kindness @elvesandlanterns @asphyxia778 @fantasticbluebirdfan @mj-arts-n-stuff @nappinginhell @slapphapp1 @undead-essence @seraphinedemort @enderglace @wildbacon-blog @mark-the-snark

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 14

[Master List]

TW for implied/referenced sexual assault of a minor!!! as well as descriptions of a panic attack

So, maybe he’d been wrong- it wasn’t an impossibility! Duke had really thought Danny seemed like a nice, normal, completely not crazy guy who just wanted to do a good thing for people in need and- okay that last part still seemed true- but there was no way Danny didn’t have some screws loose. Duke had noticed the moment he met the guy that he was brighter than most people. Hell, Danny was brighter than most metas Duke had met, but he’d pushed that fact aside (with a few excedrin to help) and focused on his job.

The job part of his job, not the spying part Tim had assigned him. Duke really enjoyed helping out with the kids and spending more time with Mia and getting to know Danny was a plus. He was a really cool guy and knew a lot about space, science, and strangely enough- the politics behind a monarchy… Duke still couldn’t figure that one out really.

But all-in-all, Daniel Nightingale was a nice guy, an even nicer boss, and was just doing his best to use his astounding wealth in a way that benefitted everybody except himself. Seriously, Duke had seen the pictures Tim had taken of the guy's apartment when he broke-in he could stand to upgrade his stuff a bit. 

Apparently this was one of those (very rare) times Duke was wrong. Because who in their RIGHT MIND catapults themselves onto a Gotham rogue (any rogue really, but Scarecrow was one of the worse to do this to) and starts beating the shit out of them? Not only that, but he’d spoken nonchalantly to the villain and hadn’t appeared even a bit concerned.

If all of that hadn’t convinced Duke that Danny was off his fucking rocker, the fact that a flying vigilante who glowed EXACTLY the same as Danny appeared out of no where, catching the fear toxin, and taking over on the Scarecrow beatdown would have. Duke had yet to mention to anyone that the vigilante and Danny glowed the same because what the actual hell could that mean? Maybe, if Duke had seen them separately, he might have thought they were the same person, but they were in the same room! At the same time! Everyone saw them simultaneously! 

Except apparently they hadn’t caught it on camera because Duke’s video feed had been conveniently cut off the moment the vigilante- who called himself Phantom- appeared.

Oh yeah- how could Duke forget that the vigilante had also admitted to being the Ghost King which (after sending an inquiry to John Constantine) had been confirmed. And Constantine had been pissed. Duke didn’t spend a lot of time around the JL let alone the JLD but even he knew Constantine being angry and frantic and worried all at once was a terrible sign. The (usually unreachable) man had demanded a meeting as soon as possible to go over their interaction with the ghost king and plan out next steps.

B didn’t take that too well.

After all of the kids had been sent home with their parents (who were notified that the daycare would be closed the next day), Danny had told Duke to take the following week off and not argue about it. Duke took his bike back to the manor and waited for the others to get back so they could debrief. 

Now Duke, Duke was known as the ‘easy’ kid. The kid that followed Bruce’s rules, in and out of costume, reported all injuries, gave detailed reports of every altercation, all around, a rule follower. This was not true. Sure, Duke reported his injuries- the small ones- and gave detailed reports- on things that didn’t matter- but Duke, like any other bird or bat, wasn’t a big fan of some of B’s rules. And something in him was telling him not to mention Danny and Phantom’s matching aura’s.

So he didn’t. He reported everything else, Tim grilled him about Phantom and Danny and their relation to each other which Duke insisted was non-existent, and eventually, they let him go to bed. But one of them wasn’t so easily convinced and it was the one who’d disappeared without a word after the altercation at the daycare and returned covered in blood.

Well- covered might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but Hood definitely had more blood on him than he’d had on him at the daycare. B had questioned him about that too, but Jason just mumbled something about a couple of muggers in his territory and refused to mention it further. Now, changed out of his bloody suit, Jason was leaning in Duke’s doorway with a question on his face.

“What is it?” Duke sighed, crawling under his covers and collapsing back into the bed. He’d been up early to do a quick patrol before work and was now regretting that decision.

Instead of responding, Duke heard the click and lock of the door and looked up to see what was happening. He and Jason were cool, Jason was a cool guy and Duke really looked up to him, but they didn’t hang out that much. They were on completely different schedules, with entirely opposite interests, and very little time. So Jason coming to see him was strange in his books.

Jason was standing in front of the now locked door and running a hand through his hair. “I need you to be one-hundred percent honest with me, Duke.” His voice was serious in a way that Duke hadn’t heard often, especially not directed at him.

“Okay..?” He straightened up, hoping Jason took that as him giving his full attention. “What’s up?”

“Did you… notice anything… about- about Phantom?” He asked nervously.

And damn wasn’t that a wild thought. He didn’t remember seeing Jason nervous before. “Notice anything like what?” Duke asked carefully. He still wasn’t sure he should admit to anyone that he thought Danny and Phantom were related somehow.

“You see like… auras or whatever, yeah?” Shit. Duke nodded. “You said before that mine reminds you of the pits. Neon green and kinda toxic, right?” He nodded again, slower this time. “What did you notice about Danny and Phantom?”

Duke opened his mouth to argue that their auras were nothing alike, but that wasn’t true now that he thought about it. Danny’s aura was bright like, brighter than looking into the sun, he was pretty sure his boss had noticed how often Duke avoided looking directly at him. But underneath how bright it was, there was a distinct green color and the feeling of electricity- which was different to Jason whose aura felt like heat and poison. 

“Duke?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

Shrugging, Duke went for a half truth. “They were both kinda green like yours if that’s what you mean.”

Jason pursed his lips in a way that told Duke he had expected that answer but didn’t like it. He sighed loudly, placing his hands on his hips. “Okay. Thanks.” He turned to leave, unlocking and opening the door.

“Why?” Duke questioned back.

His brother paused, halfway out of the room. “Just a hunch. Thanks again, kid, I’m glad you’re okay.”

Only after Jason left did Duke really question what all of that was about. What kind of hunch could Jason have had about Danny and Phantom’s auras? Was he using his own as an example or a comparison? Because, yeah, now that he thought about it, they were similar to Jason’s in color, and he hadn’t seen many people with that exact shade of green in their aura before, but it could have just been a coincidence, right?

Except, in what world would Jason come to Duke to inquire about something that specific and just happen to bump into a crazy coincidence like that? And thinking back on it, hadn’t Hood been trying to get the chance to speak to Danny for a bit after the attack? Duke didn’t count himself as one of the best detectives in the family, there were many people he thought were better than him by a long shot, but everything about this smelled fishy.

What could Jason possibly want with Danny and/or Phantom? Hadn’t B demanded that Jason hand over some card Phantom had given him only for Jason to refuse point blank? Damn, maybe if he wasn’t so tired he’d be able to think better. He’d read the reports tomorrow, now he just wanted to sleep.

~~~

Danny woke up to a weight on him. Actually, he woke up to three weights on him. One was pressed between him and the couch, partially draped over his chest and crushing his arm- it was completely numb at this point. The second was fully on his chest, splayed out across his body and jabbing a sharp elbow into his neck. The last weight was much lighter and almost comfortable, keeping his feet warm.

Opening his eyes, Danny found Miguel, Santi, and Curiosity all sleeping on him. Frowning, he tried to remember how they’d ended up curled up on- he looked around- Miguel and Santi’s couch. Miguel had made it pretty clear early on that he didn’t like much physical contact and even though Santi wasn’t as uncomfortable with it, Danny had mostly avoided it unless they initiated it.

Everything came back to him as he finally registered the crusty feeling in the corners of his eyes and remembered quietly crying while holding the boys and assuring them that they were safe in his arms. He’d expected them to eventually pull away, demand to know what he’d done to their dad, maybe get upset with him now that the threat had passed, something. 

He hadn’t expected them to curl up in his arms, cry their hearts out, and all fall asleep together. He was pretty sure they’d slept through the night which, for him, was a feat in and of itself, but to do so with two other people and a cat all crowded onto one small couch was impressive. (He was still most impressed by sleeping through the night, he felt more refreshed than he’d felt in a long time- since the night the boys had first moved in.)

Miguel stirred, rubbing the heel of his hand across his eyes to deal with the crustiness. His movement jostled Santi who groaned quietly and shifted to get away only to find the was no room to adjust, only open air. The younger boy would have fallen off the couch and landed on the floor if not for Danny’s strong arm wrapped around him which pulled him closer.

“Whu- ‘m awake.” Santi mumbled, burrowing his face into Danny’s chest in an attempt to change that fact.

“Move dumbass,” Miguel hissed. “Gotta pee.” He explained, pulling out of Danny’s arms and forcing his way past the two bodies that held him down. 

Santi didn’t move again, continuing to press his face into Danny to block out the light shining through the window. Danny gently rubbed his hand up and down the boys back in an attempt to stir him awake. The boy grumbled.

Chuckling, Danny shifted his own body. “C’mon kiddo, let me get up so I can make you guys breakfast.” Santi huffed, ignoring Danny’s pleas. “If you don’t get up I’ll halfta pick you up and take you with me.”

The boy ignored him, or maybe didn’t believe him, and Danny adjusted his body to scoop the boy into his arms and hoist him upwards. “Fine, here we go!” He laughed, feeling the boy jolt and wrap his arms around Danny’s neck tightly.

“What the fuck, Danny!” Santi shouted.

Danny kept laughing, carrying the boy to the kitchen. Depositing Santi on his usual kitchen stool, Danny opened the fridge in search of eggs. His eyes landed on an egg casserole with a note and felt himself grinning before he realized it.

Take care of yourself. -RH

Whether the ‘take care of yourself’ was aimed at him or the boys (probably the boys- and wasn’t that a sweet thought?), Danny didn’t care, Red Hood had brought them food after the horrible night they’d had and left a note of care. 

Someone cleared their throat and Danny pulled the casserole out of the fridge, placing the note on the counter where the boys could see it, and popping it into the oven. Miguel stood next to where Santi sat, eyeing the note and Danny.

“You’re in a good mood.” Miguel commented, taking the stool beside his brother and adding the sticky note to what seemed to be a small pile of other sticky notes.

Danny shrugged, pulling out a few plates and cups. “I slept well and don’t have to cook, what’s not to be in a good mood about?”

There was a long pause that Danny only realized was an awkward one when Santi spoke.

“What happened?”

And- okay, that was not how Danny thought they’d bring up what happened the night before. He honestly wasn’t sure how he thought they’d bring it up, but maybe after breakfast? Maybe when they left the apartment and noticed the blood staining the hallway carpets (he’d have to have that cleaned. He was lucky the neighbors had been out of town for the past week.). Not first thing in the morning!

Leaning against the counter opposite them, he exhaled. “How about you boys tell me what happened… and then I’ll tell you what happened when I got here? Is that okay?”

The boys shared looks before hesitantly nodding. Miguel spoke first. 

“A few days ago some… friendsa mine told me our… dad’d been released from jail and- and he’d come askin’ bout me an’ Santi. They didn’ tell ‘im nothin’ but he musta seen me somewhere an’ followed me home. That’s… tha’s why I been so…” He struggled with his words so Danny just nodded understandingly. It could be difficult to admit that you’d been angry or moody- he knew. “Yesterday I went ta get me and Santi some snacks from the convenience store down the street.”

He knew that the boys left the apartment when he was gone, it’d be cruel to tell them they couldn’t, but he was still slightly surprised to realize Miguel had gone out for something as simple as snacks and had been followed home by- by him.

“I got home an’ locked the door an’ gave Santi his snacks but… someone started bangin’ on the door. When I heard who it was I-” he looked at his hands in shame. “I pushed Santi in a closet and barricaded the door.”

Santi wrapped his arms around himself. “I didn’t like that.” He muttered. “He… he used ta do that a lot back… back home.”

Danny had to remind himself not to go all feral monster and hunt their so-called father down to rip his dick off and shove it down his throat. He should have done that last night but Hood had pulled him off.

(Hood had stopped him from murdering someone again- something he knew had bothered Danny more than he was willing to admit- and held him back until he’d come back to his senses. He wants to imagine he’d have stopped himself before it went to far but… let’s be honest, the man was going to be hospitalized for a long time. It should never have gotten that far. Even if he still wished he’d killed the monster.)

“If he-” Miguel shuddered. “If he got in I wasn’t gonna let ‘im get ta ya.” His voice was firm and reminded Danny that Miguel had been doing that for a long time. How long he wasn’t sure, but too long. “He started bangin’ on tha door, shoutin’ and trynna get in. I sat in fronta the door an’ made sure he couldn’t.”

Taking a deep breath again because Danny really wasn’t all that good at containing his rage, Danny offered Miguel a reassuring smile. “You did the best you could to protect your brother, Miguel, I’m proud of you. And you asked me for help, Santi, I’m proud of you.” Both boys looked at each other before looking away, eyes clearly confused and misty. 

“I was on my way home from work when I got Santi’s texts. I got upstairs as fast as I could and tried to get him to leave.” Danny started, recounting exactly what had happened as best he could. He’d been seeing a lot of red. “I threatened to call the cops but he… Well, he said some things that were unacceptable and I got angry. I… attacked him. Hood had to pull me off of him.”

Miguel’s eyes were wide. “I thought…” His voice was low, hesitant, scared. “I thought ‘e was hurtin’ you.”

Oh.

Oh.

Stepping forward, immediately regretting not clearing up any misunderstandings the night before, Danny looked both boys in the eyes to see fear. Not OF him, but FOR him. Fear that he’d been hurt by the man who’d hurt them.

“He didn’t touch me.” Danny breathed. “Didn’t get a single punch in. I thought… I- I was worried you’d be mad.” He admitted. “I-” He sucked in a breath. “I made a lot of excuses for my parents.” Avoiding their eyes, Danny pushed on. “For years, I told people things were fine at home, that my parents would…. That they’d never hurt me if they knew it was me they were hurting.

“But they did. And… and even after they’d hurt me beyond repair- almost killed me,” His eyes blurred and he blinked back the emotions. This wasn’t about him, he was just trying to show the boys he understood. “After everything they did, I made excuses. It took a long time to give up on them. So I was worried you’d be mad at me for hurting him. And I wouldn’t hold it against you if you were, I know what it’s like to have confusing feelings about your parents.” He finished, meeting their eyes.

Santi was the first to react, reaching his hand out and placing it on top of Danny’s. “I… I don’t know how I feel. But I know I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

Following suit, Miguel hesitantly placed a hand on Danny’s and Santi’s. “I know how I feel.” His eyes were filled with anger and sadness and they perfectly mirrored Danny’s when he was seventeen. “‘M glad you were there. I- I don’t know what woulda happened if you’d been too late.”

“Well,” Danny let out a sigh of relief. “Luckily, we don’t have to think about that. I wasn’t too late,” (Yes you were.) “and Hood took care of it. Now we have to focus on moving forward and taking care of each other.”

~~~

“You don’t have to do that, Miguel.” Miguel heard Danny say from across the kitchen. Miguel shrugged, continuing to wash the breakfast dishes and lay them out to dry. “Aren’t boys your age supposed to avoid chores like the plague?” Danny muttered under his breath.

Snorting, Miguel dried his hands and faced him. Santi had been convinced to go take a nap shortly after finishing his food but even though Danny attempted to convince him to do the same, he refused. He was too jittery to even consider lying still and he saw things he didn’t want to every time he closed his eyes. So he’d stayed.

Being alone with Danny had stopped being scary a while back, after the first time he had been in a closed room alone with the man and he hadn’t attempted anything. But sometimes he still grew nervous. Not nervous because he was worried Danny would do something bad to him, but nervous because… it had been so long since he’d been around someone he… he genuinely admired. Someone he wanted to impress.

“What do you mean?” He asked, twisting the towel in his damp hands. Danny looked up inquisitively so Miguel clarified. “Whatdya mean ‘Hood took care of it’?” He knew his voice betrayed some of his feelings, but he hoped Danny wasn’t worrying that Miguel was mad about how things had turned out again.

Swallowing, Danny cleared his throat. “I uh… I don’t know.” Miguel tilted his head and furrowed his brow in question. “That’s just what he said. He…” The man let out a shuddery breath. “He pulled me off- off of your… dad, and when I finally calmed down he was… in bad shape. He told me not to come into the apartment until I’d… uh- until I’d cleaned up-”

Miguel had been around fights long enough to know Danny was trying not to mention he’d been covered in blood. His dad’s blood.

“When I came back his body was gone and Hood said he’d taken care of things. He wasn’t- I don’t think I-” Danny pursed his lips and stopped talking.

Miguel had had a long time to think about his dad- three years to be exact, and he’d come to a conclusion a long time ago. He came to it after the first time he’d mugged someone for a few bucks in their wallet. He came to it again when he’d gone hungry for the third day in a row so Santi wouldn’t have to. The conclusion had been tattooed across his brain after his first John had left him unconscious and bleeding in an alley after going too far.

It was a conclusion he hadn’t told Santi he’d come to- his baby brother hadn’t experienced things like he had, he couldn’t be sure they would agree but- “Good riddance.” Miguel choked out.

Whipping his head up, Danny met his eyes, like he couldn’t believe what Miguel had said. So he said it again. If not to convince Danny he’d said it then to convince himself. “Good riddance. Dead or a hospitalized vegetable; good fucking riddance.”

“Miguel-”

“I didn’t understand why he let you call ‘im that.” Miguel continued, needing to get everything out in the open. Unable to stop speaking now that he’d started. “Santi. That’s what- tha’s what he called ‘im when beggin’ for forgiveness. When ‘e went ta jail, no one was allowed ta call ‘im that- nobody but me. An’ no one is allowed ta call me Mick- nobody but Santi. He used  ta call me that when ‘e- when…” He took a breath. 

Danny opened his mouth, likely to comfort Miguel, but he couldn't handle it right now. He needed to say this he needed to-

“I get it now.” He met Danny’s eyes. “Santi saw it immediately, maybe even from the moment you first found ‘im but I told ‘im he was- was wrong. I was the one who told ‘im to- to keep a distance, to never be alone with you. I didn’t trust you. I wanted to but- but I didn’t- couldn’t-” Miguel could tell he was rambling at this point, Danny had stood up and seemed to be getting closer, but he had to say what he had to say-

“You’re dad-shaped.”

Danny’s eyes went wide, his arms froze outstretched to meet Miguel’s shaking frame. There was surprise on his face and Miguel wondered if he’d read it all wrong but he needed to- he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said what he wanted to and he didn’t think he’d ever say it again if he didn’t now.

“Santi keeps sayin’ you’re dad-shaped but I was afraid you- you were dad-shaped and I liked you and I din’t wanna find out you were like him and I couldn’t- I needed someone to-'' Apparently, when saying all of the things you needed to say, breathing was really difficult. He hadn’t expected that, but he couldn’t seem to get air into his lungs. “I jus’ wanted- I- I jus’- please don’ make me a idiot-” Miguel begged, feeling two hands gently but firmly grab his upper arms.

Danny was saying something but he couldn’t hear- why couldn’t he hear anything? His chest kept jerking and his face was wet and he hadn’t felt emotions this strongly in so long why did he let them out they always resulted in beatings and things so much worse and why was his chest jerking? The ringing in his ears was so loud and he couldn’t take it anymore and when did he end up on the floor- who was holding him? He should be afraid- why wasn’t he afraid of whoever was holding him-

“-guel, you’re safe. I’m not going anywhere, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe Miguel. You’re safe with me. I’d never hurt you.” 

Hiccuping, Miguel buried his face in Danny’s oversized sweatshirt. It doubled as a way to dry his face which Miguel counted as a win and he tried to listen to Danny’s words.

“You’re doing so well, Miguel. Thank you for telling me- you’re so-” The man inhaled quickly. “Ancients, you’re so brave, Miguel.” He scoffed and Danny stilled momentarily before resuming his rocking. “I mean it kid. You’ve been through so much and your first instinct is still to always protect your brother. And that’s so brave. But I’m here to help with that now. I want you to feel safe enough with me to not only leave your brother with me, but to tell me how you’re feeling.

“Expressing your feelings is hard- I- I’m still really shit at it. But you? You just told me how you’re feeling and why and what you want and you trusted me with that and that’s-” he whistled. “You never fail to impress me, Miguel.”

Part of him wanted to repress the tears he felt threatening to pour over, he’d just started to calm down and dry his face, but God if he hadn’t been waiting for someone to say that to him. Sobs wracked his body and Miguel… he just let it happen. He- he was safe here. He was okay to show how scared he was- how scared he’d been, there was no one here who’d use his feelings against him. No one who would manipulate him into doing things he didn’t want or risk them doing those things to his brother. He was in the arms of someone who would protect him and his brother- someone who had. 

He’d sat on the floor just like this last night, crying for an entirely different reason, thinking the man who’d given them so much was being beaten the way he’d grown up being beaten by the very same man. He didn’t know if that man was dead or alive or if he’d ever wake up or walk again and he didn’t care- he didn’t- that man would never lay another finger on him or his brother and that was all thanks to Danny and Hood.

The man who’d taken them in and given them everything they could want or need and the man who’d dropped by every other night for the last two weeks to check in and leave food. Safe. He and Santiago, they were safe. And for the first time in as long as he could remember, they were safe- not because of Miguel, but because of two random adults who’d decided to protect them even at risk of their own safety. 

Huh.

It was a new feeling.

He liked it.

Prev. Next

[dxrksong]

Jason 13 au

PLOT WITH MEMES

-----

Jason: you ever have that moment where you're relaxing on a rooftop with a nice cup of tea.

Jason: and then you get kidnapped by your reanimated bicycle from the GZ?

Danny, desperately trying to steer: NOT HELPING JOHNNY!!!!!

Jason: I know.

The Bike: :)

------‐---

Jason: so what the hell am I supposed to do with zom?

Danny: considering they're the only thing keeping you alive rn? Not much

Jason: how the hell-right right, acting as a vein system....

Danny: in theory if you do manage to absorb the blob ghost, you won't have to deal with the rage anymore? That's a plus right?

Jason: I know we use them as snacks sometimes but they're also PETS, phantom!

Danny: wait, you're keeping it?

Jason: CaN YoU NoT SaY It lIkE ThAt?!

--------

Constantine: what the fuck......*walks out*

BatMan: ???

Constantine: Manor's haunted.

Bruce: *cocks gun* always has been

Constantine: WTF?!

Batman: yes?? I know??

Constantine: byyyeeee

Batman: Constantine get back here!

--------

Jason: shit. Goin' ghost! Damn you kid, for infecting me with your stupid phrase! *transforms*

Kon, Jon, and Superman: *physical and visual distress as they immediately scramble out of their chairs*

Jason: ??? What's wrong with you??

Jon: YOUR HEART JUST STOPPED!!!!

Jason: oh. OOH! Yeah, it does that.

Superfam: *visible distress and confusion*

-------

Danny @ Jack with a little dance: you are my daaaaaad YOU'RE MY DAD!! Boogie woogie woogie!

Jack: AWWWW DANNO!!! *shamelessly shedding tears* IT'S BEEN FOREVER SINCE YOU'VE MADE LITTLE JINGLES FOR US!!!

Jason:

Jason: hmm

[Later]

Jason: *slides into the batcave*

BatKids: ??

Jason: *DEEP INHALE*

Jason, trying to mimic Danny's dance: YOU ARE MY DAAAAD! YOU'RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE!!!!!

Batkids:

BatMan:

Batman: "Dad.....?"

-------

Batman: check out how hard I can cry! SUSHAUAABSIDBESJDDKEDB

[Note. May or may not be immediately after the previous meme]

--------

Danny: *dies screaming*

Also Danny: *screm powers*

Jason: *died in explosion*

Also Jason: *Explody powers*

-------

Jason: say hello to my BOOM STICK!!!!

The boom stick is a ghost glock. Jason can imbue it with his powers to make the targets explode upon impact.

-----------

Gotham:

Jason:

Gotham: *starts crying*

Jason: SHIT-Gothi, what's wrong?!

Gotham: Why must you grow up??! Why can't you stay my little birdy!

Jason:

Jason: look just because I said you don't have to mother me, doesn't mean-

Gotham: MY BABY DOESN'T LOVE ME ANYMOOOORE!

---------

Jason: *gets hurt*

Shades: so you've chosen death

--------

Duke: shit, we're cornered!

Jason: don't worry, I got this! *High pitched scream*

Shades: *come rushing in to defend the baby*

Duke: WHAT THE-

Jason: relax, they're friendly.

Duke: I'm talking about how fucking girly that scream was J-*gets elbowed in the ribs*

Jason: You sure your name ain't Dick? Cuz you're sure acting like one!

---------

Bike: *in batcave*

Also Bike: *suddenly in the dining room, just sitting there*

Damien: ?!

--------

Damien: Todd, can you not leave your bike in random places in the house?! It's annoying!

Jason: my bike?? Oh, OH! That's just squishy, he moves on his own time.

Damien: are you saying your bike is alive Todd? Tt do you mistake me for an idiot?

Jason: why don't you ask the bike then?

Bike: *beeps*

Damien: *jumps 5ft into the air*

----------

Dick: Jason, we need to talk.

Jason: *sigh* fine, I admit, I put him in the nicu, but he deserved it!

Dick: what?! No, I mean about your bike! What the hell are you talking about?!

Jason: ooh! Nevermind then, carry on!

Dick: Jason, this conversation isn't over.

Jason: jeez, you're starting to sound like Bruce, just tell me what you wanted!

Dick: your bike is crying.

Bike: *just realized it was stuck like this*

Jason: ?! Squishy?! *runs off*

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *4*

Jason had been a little better recently. He had the pit better under control, even though it reared his head from time to time. But it was easier to talk with the bats... his family.

But B's staring was making his skin crawl. The big bad bat was staring him down for over ten minutes.

"What?!", his tone was harsher than he intended, but that wouldn't make him back down. The silence carried on for a few beats, before his fahter batman finally graced him with an answer.

"I spoke with Constantin... a while ago", it almost sounded like he wanted to talk emotions. Which could just mean something bad.

It took some moments before B continued. The emotional talk theory sounded more and more likely.

"There could be a way to help with the pit madness." - Bruce lifted his hand to stop any Protest from Jason - "I just want you to consider it. We won't do anything without your permission. It wouldn't even work without it. The entity is strong, but it is confirmed that it isn't a danger, as long as we treat this the right way", if he didn't know the old man any better, he would have thought that he was just as businesslike as always. But his jaw was clenched, his fingers kept twitching ever so slightly. His father Bruce was nervous.

And that was enough to reign the pit in, that kept whispering how they still didn't accept him. But that didn't mean he liked this idea.

So his answer was nothing more than a non committed grunt, before he swung on the back of his bike. The old man would be alright to wait for a bit.

.

.

.

It took months before Jason brought the conversation back up. The pit had been a bitch to reign in the last few weeks and today he felt at least somewhat like himself again.

They spoke just a little bit about what would need to happen, but Jason felt like his time was running thin. He didn't care all to much about the details at the moment.

Constantin was ordered to the cave and the summoning was prepared. No blood or sacrifice was needed, which made this magic bullshit at least a bit more tolerable.

Beside the Batman, Constantin and Red Hood was also Nightwing there. He didn't want any of his other siblings by his side. Not when he felt so easy to irritate.

The Magician began the ritual and in the circle formed a whirlpool of lazurus water. If Dick hadn't been standing behind him, he would have bolted.

But after just a few seconds emerged a white headed boy out of the pool. The portal closed and left a confused, floating boy behind.

But before Constantin or Batman could say a word, the green (Lazarus green!) eyes landed on him. The being gasped and flyed directly to him.

.

.

.

Danny had been minding his own business, free from rouges and king work for once. His finals stood right around the corner and he took the time off to learn.

But of course he had to be summoned in the only normal time he had. But since the energy felt familiar, he was to 90% sure that it should be sad trenchcoat man. So it should be important... hopefully.

As soon has he looked around he saw John and the Batman! But there was an energy that pulled his attention.

His eyes widened. This poor... Revenant? Halfa?? He wasn't sure, but! He was one of his people and it looked bad. And he seemed to be around his age, what made it so much worse.

Danny zoomed over to him, to have a better look. And that just made it worse.

"That looks bad... who did this to you?", he whisperd with a horrified glance at the chest of the other boy.

His core was slowly poisoned by his own ectoplasm and seemed like there was not much time left.

[basilf1res]

DP x DC Prompt - Zombie Jason

Jason didn’t know when it started, but when his left hand detached from his wrist the first time, it was safe to say he freaked out. What was worse was the patches of bruised skin slowly turning a rotting green.

It was chilling to look at, so he started wearing fingerless gloves that stretched beyond his wrists and covered enough of his hands to hide the decaying skin and flesh.

Perhaps the term “zombie” fit more than he thought. To add on, there was this pit in his stomach (not the pit madness, it had started to fade when his limbs started detaching, and was certainly silent now) that food never seemed to fill.

Deep down he was anxious that the hunger was for brains, but he knew that was just absurd.

He soon discovered he could completely remove his head, unscrewing it like a bottle cap on those cheap plastic water bottles.

Jason was starting to lose focus on the world around him, almost never during his vigilante work, but during everyday tasks. One time he was helping fix the bikes in the cave, replacing the worn down tires, when he spaced out. When Jason blinked, he was just sitting down at the dinner table, those already seated watching him carefully.

It made him feel sick, and he theorized he was dying again. So he started recording himself on tapes, logging how he was doing and the progress of the decay.

He started searching for a cure, something to hold him together.

He got more and more frenzied as the weeks flew by, similar to Tim on his sixth cup of daily coffee.

Jason started gathering things he owned, small trinkets and little gifts that he subtly placed around the manor. Alfred noticed the things first, seemingly oblivious to who was leaving them (he most definitely knew).

It hurt, but the gift giving made him happy, the rot wasn’t spreading as quickly if at all anymore! Jason was overjoyed. Spending time with his siblings made him feel all fuzzy inside, like someone took a phone and placed the vibration feature in the center his chest.

It wasn’t long before the rotting started to get worse again. Jason got into a fight with Bruce, he didn’t remember what it was about anymore, something about tests or reports on himself and his patrols around Crime Alley.

He threw his hand out to the side, a wide gesture of some kind when he felt the telltale sign of his left hand detaching from his wrist. The wretched squelching noise of the flesh tearing and the ‘schlop’ of the hand hitting the ground, splattering the cave floor with rusty reddish-brown blood. The birds and bats stared at the stump as Jason rushed to snatch up his hand, practically twisted the thing back in place.

Confessing that he believed he was dying again was the hardest thing in that moment. Jason told Bruce to fuck off, albeit wetly as his emotions refused to take a hike.

He left and the rest of the batfam begin researching relentlessly for some sort of cure. Dick, heartbroken over the ordeal, contacts Constantine.

“You need help with what?” The British magician dropped the cigarette he was twirling around his fingers to stare at Nightwing, Batman, Red Robin, and Red Hood. The last of the four standing off to the side, saying that he’ll be fine and he didn’t need magical medical help.

“Red Hood is starting to develop a skin condition where it appears he’s legitimately becoming a zombie, we need help finding some sort of medicine for him.” Nightwing states, stress pulling at his face.

John hums before turning to the man in question, “Take off your helmet.”

He was met with the sight of Jason’s face, but green patches covered his neck and jaw but no higher.

“Bloody hell…” Constantine muttered before reaching into his trench coat and pulling out a vial of Lazarus Water about the size of his pinky finger. “Do you know what this is?”

“Pit Water..?” Jason trailed off, the higher pitch at the end of his sentence making it sound like a question.

“Yes and no.” Constantine drawled, “This is purified ectoplasm, it’s been cleaned of any imprint or claim. It comes from the Infinite Realms.”

Batman grunted in a reply. “Hn.”

John rolled his eyes, “If I’m right, your decaying body should fix itself if you consume purified ectoplasm every week or so. If I’m wrong, the ectoplasm I have will not appeal to you and I’ll need to do some more digging.” Constantine’s attempt at being chipper fell short as he uncorked the vial and handed it over to Jason.

He stared at it, blankly looking at the shimmering, slightly metallic-looking liquid.

“We’ll go ahead, sniff it.” Constantine arched a brow that expressed he didn’t have time for this. “Drink it if it smells appealin- DON’T SWALLOW THE WHOLE BLOODY GLASS VIAL!!”

Jason had promptly done what he was told. To piss him off he just ate the whole thing - it wasn’t that but of a vial anyways - after a few moments he felt less brittle and fragile. He stuck his tongue out childishly. Snickering to himself silently.

Yeah. He could get used to the absence of the- hoLY FUCK WAS HE SINKING INTO THE CAVE FLOOR?!

——————————

I’m kinda brain-dead right now, I’ve dropped a pre-written Christmas themed fic to shift my attention to Project GH05T.

Here’s a blurb of Zombie Jason needing ectoplasm in order to keep himself from falling apart - literally.

Good night y’all. I wrote a majority of this in my study hall. 💀

[britcision]

OKAY FRIENDOS

This chapter fucking fought me, not least because I wasn’t actually sure what exactly Danny wanted out of meeting Waylon… and then I realised that was because Danny wasn’t sure either

I did consider just letting this one run long and posting in two parts when all was said and done, but this was where I’d have had to break the chapter in two for Tumblr anyway, and it’s actually a really good place to end… so one more chapter for Waylon!

And then tumblr mobile decided not to let me fucking paste the chapter in, and I am fucking DYING with the laggy piece of shit that is the mobile website. I crave death. Let me join the boys.

First Chapter and AO3:

Previous Chapter:

——————

A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence 

Jason wasn’t exactly expecting to roll up to Danny’s dorm to thumping stripper music, and yet as he turned off the bike… that was definitely what was happening. 

Flicking the visor up, he soon caught sight of the cause, a visibly frazzled Danny hurrying over. His pocket seemed to be having an independent party that Danny himself was not invited to. 

“I have sinned against the almighty Tucker and am being punished for my crimes with an endless loop,” he explained flatly without being asked. 

Jason snorted, reaching back to unhook the new helmet from the back of the bike and hand it out. 

“Oh? And what did you do to upset his highness?” He teased, a smile tugging across his lips in spite of himself. 

In spite of the certain knowledge that Tim would absolutely be latching onto this form of punishment the second he found out. 

He’d not really felt like smiling since he got in last night, yet the second he saw Danny his anger eased. 

Didn’t hurt that the pit was practically vibrating in smug satisfaction, clearly appeased that he also wouldn’t let them be kept apart. But there was still an open happiness all Jason’s own in watching his new friend suffer. 

Danny sighed, pulling out a heavily wrapped sock-sausage that eventually contained his phone, and scrolled to show Jason some messages. 

Jason scanned through them quickly, because the music was fucking loud entirely unmuffled, then passed the phone back to be reburied. 

“You knew what you were doing,” he told Danny entirely unsympathetically, and Danny snickered. 

“Sometimes he needs to be told when he’s being a dramatic bitch. So were you there for the whole,” he waved a hand vaguely, the other stuffing his phone back into his pocket. 

Which meant Jason had to think about the cave again. And the phone call he’d gotten an hour after ignoring Bruce’s summons. 

:::

Jason was actually on his way to bed on time for once in his life, the early end to patrol and lack of crime lord duties giving him a chance to get a full five hours sleep. 

He should have known he wouldn’t get lucky two nights in a row; Constantine wasn’t around to distract Bruce anymore. 

He’d contemplated not answering. Contemplated trying not to shoot Bruce in half an hour if the fucker showed up at his window. 

The pit growled. 

It was the worst thing he’d ever heard. The worst thing he’d ever felt. And he did feel it, vibrating in his very bones. 

It sent shivers creeping up and down his spine, muscles tensing as if to run away from something inside him. 

He answered the call, hoping it wouldn’t show in his voice. 

“What.” Flat, unfriendly. Not encouraging conversation. 

“You didn’t come to the cave.” B’s voice was equally flat, but in his case it sounded like a condemnation. An accusation. 

Jason gritted his teeth. 

“I have shit to do in the morning. Make it quick,” he snapped, giving his bed a glare it definitely didn’t deserve. 

His pillows had never done anything to hurt him. 

There was a momentary pause before B audibly decided not to push it. 

Good. 

Jason was in a mood to bite. 

“We have intel on the Infinite Realms. I’ve sent the report. You need to stay away from Danny Fenton, for your health,” B said, still cold, still clinical. 

Like he didn’t care. Like what Jason wanted didn’t matter. 

Jason’s grip tightened and the phone case cracked. 

“Yeah, no. Fuck off.” He spat the words, adding “get new phone” to his list of chores for the morning. 

He’d been doing so well with this one. Of course B had to ruin it. 

At least the old man didn’t seem surprised by his reaction. 

“Jason. It… he. His abilities may affect your condition,” he said slowly, sounding tired. Old. 

The pit snarled, sensing weakness, and Jason kinda wished he was still lost in its rage. Back when he was, it was easy just to hate those moments. 

B showing signs of humanity fucking hurt. 

“He is. He’s making it better,” he shot back, brooking no argument. 

“We don’t know that, Jason. Please, just… just for a few days. Until we can talk to the League, understand what he’s doing to you.” 

Was. 

Was that Bruce begging? 

It froze something small and soft in Jason’s chest, stuck him in place. And did nothing to stop the flood of icy rage from filling him up. 

Filling his chest, crushing his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Because of course, anyone and everyone else’s judgement was worth more to the man than Jason’s. 

Begging Jason to listen to him, when he would never, ever, fucking ever listen to Jason. When it didn’t fucking matter if Jason begged. 

“And why the fuck would the League know better than a doctor from the Realms?” He finally snapped, ignoring the way his throat tightened. 

There was a long silence. 

“A doctor?” Bruce asked softly, his voice still so flat and emotionless that only his kids could have read the confusion. Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Danny brought me to a doctor. I’m gonna be fine,” he ground out reluctantly, part of him resenting Bruce’s constant insistence on knowing everything. 

But… well. If it got the guy off his fucking back. 

There was a long silence, one that Jason was fully aware B was likely spending working this new information into his latest paranoid fantasy. 

Jason seriously considered just hanging up and going to bed. He was about to do it when Bruce spoke again. 

“Would this doctor be willing to speak to the League?” And there it was again, Batman voice, clinical and distant and always, always fucking suspicious. 

Jason rolled his eyes harder. With emphasis. Willing to be interrogated by first the Justice League and then separately also goddamn Batman. 

Actually, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure B wouldn’t get anywhere with Frostbite. Frostbite took his work seriously and was, yeah, king of a full realm of yetis. 

None of Bruce’s pointed silences, menacing looming, or vague growls would bug the guy who got Danny through Fucked Up Ghost Puberty. 

(And would probably be helping Jason through his own Fucked Up Ghost Puberty… joy of joys.) 

It might actually be fun to see him try. If just being here wouldn’t put Frostbite in danger, because hell fucking no that wasn’t happening. The guy may not be his king but Jason would still die first.

But of course, in all his paranoid bullshit about the Realms influencing Gotham, B had somehow conveniently missed what America was doing to the Realms. 

Like Jason hadn’t even done the full write up. 

“Not while the fucking League are required to hand him right to the US government for torture and experimentation. Which, by the way, did you read my report on the Anti Ecto Acts?” Jason asked sarcastically, doing his very worst fake concern. 

And again he was met with silence. Fuck, maybe Bruce hadn’t read it. Jason had dropped it in the day before all this gala bullshit had started, and it had been a busy two days since. 

Maybe B deadass hadn’t put the pieces together.  Might as well hammer it home for him. 

“You know, the one that says you, me, Cass, and Damian are all non-sentient because we’ve been exposed to the pits?” Jason added, eyes narrowing. 

Which wasn’t technically true, since it was the resulting liminality and ability to process ectoplasm that made them count, but Bruce didn’t need to know that yet. 

Finally he spoke again, voice gruff and clipped. 

“I’m looking into it. But for now, Jason, please-” he said again, the cover of Batman beginning to slip. 

But Jason was done. No fucking chance Bruce was giving him orders when he hadn’t even bothered asking for Jason’s opinion. 

He wanted to spout off about dangers of the Infinite Realms after talking to some wet paper bag of a man who hawked his soul like it was a pokemon card. Hard pass. 

And even after hearing that Jason knew what was going on a damn sight better than Bruce did, he still wanted to push him around? 

Fuck that. 

“Sorry B, legally non-sentient, guess I can’t be blamed for my actions,” he drawled, then turned his phone off and dropped into bed. 

He had a lot of shit to do before picking Danny up in the morning. 

:::

Jason shook his head, partially to clear it but also in answer to Danny’s question. 

“Hell no. Tim told me he was being a paranoid old fuck again so I went to bed,” he growled, a little surprised by the sudden rush of anger the memory brought. 

It must have been strong enough that Danny noticed it, because he could feel Danny’s worry too. 

He sucked in a sharp breath, pushing the anger back down. He still hadn’t turned his phone back on. 

Actually it might still be beside the bed in his apartment. It didn’t really matter. 

Danny took the new helmet from him, leaning up against Jason’s side in a soft wave of comfort-sorry-amused. 

Amused? 

Before he could ask, Danny had turned the helmet over to look at the visor. 

“So I’m guessing, from what we talked about in the car, what Tucker told me, and what you’re not telling me, that Bruce thinks you should be far, far away from me?” He asked innocently. 

The pit fucking growled again, raising the hair all along Jason’s neck, and Danny trilled soothingly to it. 

Even knowing what to expect, the sudden and complete lack of rage still made Jason shiver. 

“Thanks,” he said before Danny could apologise. 

For managing Jason’s unstable emotions for him when Jason couldn’t. Although… 

If they actually were the pit’s all along, that’d explain why it had been so hard to push through. It was weird that the idea was actually starting to feel comforting. 

Danny gave him a slightly relieved grin, nudging back. 

“Yeah, well, not like you recently bound your entire soul and afterlife into keeping me safe. Not like either of us know what the fuck that’s gonna mean,” he said, all flippant and glib, and… 

Yeah, he’d almost have a point, except Jason had put himself on the chopping block to keep others safe since he was thirteen years old. 

He shook his head, chuckling softly. 

“Oh, I didn’t get on with the old man long, long before you came into the picture,” he assured Danny with a dry smile, rolling his eyes. 

Danny snickered, spinning the helmet and looking “innocently” up to the sky. Whatever the fuck came out of his mouth next, Jason was ready for it to be a doozy. 

“Yeah, well… if I’m the bad influence boyfriend your dad wants you to stay away from…” and that sentence alone almost made Jason choke, without even the kicker, “can I drive your motorcycle?” 

At least it stopped Jason from coughing. He shot Danny a sudden suspicious glare. 

“Do you even know how to drive a motorcycle?” He asked with a full awareness of what the answer would be. 

Danny shrugged, giving Jason his best “innocent” smile. 

“Definitely motorcycle adjacent?” He offered sweetly. Jason shook his head firmly. 

“Nope.” 

“Oh come on!” Danny pouted, tossing both hands into the air, his new helmet held tight despite the dramatic gesture. 

Jason shook his head again, in case Danny had missed the point. 

“Nnnnnnnope,” he drew the word out, popping the p, and Danny rolled his eyes at him. 

“It’s not like a crash would kill either of us anyway,” he huffed, and while he may have that kind of confidence in his ghost powers, Jason’s core hadn’t formed yet. 

He wasn’t about to fucking risk it. 

“That doesn’t mean it’ll be a fun experience. They’re called “donor-cycles” for a reason,” he told Danny archly, definitely not moving from astride his girl while this was “up for debate”. 

Glanced back to find Danny staring at him, clearly holding back a snicker. 

“That sounds waaay more like something the Disapproving Dad Who Doesn’t Like His Son’s Hot New Motorcycle Boyfriend would say,” he pointed out, rising on tiptoe to rest his chin on Jason’s shoulder. 

Jason licked him. Mostly on the cheek. 

It was a stupid impulse, the kind he usually didn’t even get with anyone but Dick, and he might have regretted it immediately if it hadn’t fucking worked. 

Danny jumped back, cheeks flushing, and while Jason was pretty sure his own had pinked up, well, behind him Danny couldn’t see that. 

But he pulled on his helmet just to be doubly sure. 

“Yeah, well, protecting your ass includes not letting you kill us both in a fiery wreck. Or maim us,” he added before Danny could voice the protest Jason could clearly taste. 

Silence from behind him, and then Danny sighed and pulled his helmet on, climbing aboard behind Jason again. Who decided to throw him a bone. 

“I’ll teach you how to drive it first,” he promised, and Danny cheered loudly, thrusting both fists into the air as they pulled out. 

Neither really noticed that Danny’s background music had changed to Radar Love. 

** 

When they’d finally dragged themselves to bed, Tim had offered to let Tucker use one of the manor’s nearly infinite guest rooms. 

They’d picked one out and everything, changed into pyjamas (Tucker borrowed an old pair of Dick’s), and sat on the bed in Tim’s old room talking about technology until they both fell asleep. 

Probably around 8am. 

Tucker hadn’t had a proper slumber party since leaving Amity Park, but he was kinda getting used to waking up tucked next to a still-sleeping Wayne adoptee when his phone buzzed around 10am. 

Foul treachery from Danny. As usual. 

Tucker barely woke up, hand crawling from the pile to rest against the PDA, and that was all he needed. His awareness slipped from the device to his phone, always linked. 

From his phone to Danny’s. Into Danny’s music app, where he picked a suitable vengeance even as he slipped back into sleep. 

Watched Danny through the phone as if it were a dream, easily filtering out the sounds of his own music as Danny flailed around, trying to turn the music off, trying to turn the music down, failing on all counts, and flailing his way out of the dorm. 

Down to meet Jason, his phone now buried in six layers of socks that did nothing to stop the music from being heard, or Tucker from watching. 

Tucker cranked the volume a little more anyway. The thought had to count for something. 

If Danny wanted to call him petty, well, Tucker Foley could redefine “petty” all on his own. 

Providing his friends with a semi-mocking soundtrack really was the least of his abilities; he was literally doing it in his sleep. 

**

Honestly, driving in Gotham wasn’t even all that exciting from Danny’s perspective. After being tossed around the GAV despite the seatbelts, a couple of cranky fellow drivers just didn’t register. 

If they hadn’t been going through the city, maybe going highway speeds it might have been different, but he’d kind of worked out how loud he had to be to be heard. 

By Jason snickering when he screamed at pedestrians. 

If they didn’t want to be screamed at they shouldn’t be trying to loom menacingly. 

Of course, that just meant now was the perfect time for him to use his new power for evil. Danny flipped his visor up, straining as high as he could to yell to Jason. 

“SO, THAT CONSTANTINE GUY?”

There was a sudden click in his ear and he jumped as Jason’s voice came through, quiet and definitely amused. 

“There’s a radio in your helmet, Danny.” 

Oh. 

News to fucking him, he was pretty sure that wasn’t standard in motorcycle helmets, but not from any lived experience. Johnny 13’s dead experiences were a little out of date. 

Poking around the sides of his helmet, Danny soon found a button. 

“Sweet. Looks like you finally forgot to mention something,” he teased, and heard Jason snort loud and clear. 

Didn’t have to hold the button to talk then. Good times. He’d get Tucker to take a look on the way home after he ecto infused it. For now he flipped the visor back down. 

“Looks like,” Jason agreed dryly, swerving them around a cluster of traffic. 

He wasn’t exactly sticking to the letter of the law, they were definitely half again over the speed limit, but they hadn’t gone on a sidewalk so it was nothing to a Fenton. There was even an empty slot in the lane he merged into. 

“So what about Constantine,” he prompted, and while it broke Danny out of his musings, it also reminded him of the exact thing he’d planned to do to make the trip more interesting. 

“Oh, I own his soul. Like, a dozen times over,” Danny chirped perkily, grip tightening just before Jason had to slam on the breaks to keep from hitting the car beside them. 

They sped off again before the sudden swerve caused comment, and passed a block or two in silence. Then Jason sighed. 

“Of fucking course you do that for everything and not just Mariokart.” He mostly sounded resigned, so Danny allowed himself a snicker. 

“What, it’s not like we’re gonna die. You’re even still on the road,” he dismissed easily, waving a hand to show just how unconcerned he was. 

Did not expect Jason to huff, reach back and grab his hand, and pull it back around himself. 

“I’m reconsidering teaching you to drive,” he told Danny flatly, and Danny pouted but took the hint and held on. 

“Oh come on, you can’t say that, you haven’t even seen me try!” Danny protested. 

Jason made an unimpressed noise. 

“Your town’s weather includes reports of if your parents will be on the road.” 

Which, by the way, was totally unfair of him, since he’d never have known that if Danny hadn’t told him. Or Tucker hadn’t told Tim. 

Same difference. 

“My parents, not me,” Danny argued anyway, shrugging, “and it wasn’t their driving that killed me.” 

This time he was close enough, snugged tight to Jason’s back, that he felt the guy’s whole body shiver with a loud and rumbling growl. The same growl he’d heard and soothed earlier. 

Something had really riled up Jason’s pit ghost. 

Danny hummed another quick soothing trill, stroking his aura gently across Jason and his extra passenger. 

Sort of trying to do it unobtrusively; he would actually really prefer that they didn’t fully crash. It kinda worked, in that Jason managed to unlock suddenly solid muscles enough for them to make the next turn. 

“Sorry,” Danny said quickly, kind of to both of them, “guess Pitty doesn’t like the death jokes today.” 

They passed another few buildings in silence, and Danny had definitely noticed by now that they weren’t heading for the manor. Didn’t matter so long as Jason knew where they were going. 

Danny waited him out, long enough that he almost wanted to make another joke and lighten the mood. Again though, Jason broke it first. 

“Pitty.” He did not sound impressed. But he didn’t feel mad. More what the fuck just came outta your mouth. 

Danny gave him a quick squeeze, and almost felt the pit purr. 

It was kinda getting stronger the longer they hung out. Technically that probably meant that both cores were making progress. 

“Well, technically you probably get to name it, but until you come up with something I’m calling it Pitty,” Danny explained, and rather felt that Jason should be grateful. 

Unlike the rest of his family, Jason had seen the full list of how Jack Fenton named things. Danny preferred to think he took after his aunt. 

He coulda called it the Fenton Pit Friend or something. Really, it wasn’t hard to think of anything worse. 

From his aura, Jason now seemed to be intentionally ignoring him. 

Stewing in indignation-disbelief-confused-confused-confused. Well, that was his call. 

Anyway. 

“Back to Constantine though, I wasn’t kidding. I do actually own his soul,” Danny said casually, since they’d gotten distracted from his previous attempt to make the drive more interesting. 

For a moment he wasn’t sure if Jason would rise to the bait this time either, and then another sigh came over the radio. 

“Y’know, somehow, that’s the least surprising thing you’ve said. Man sells his soul so much everyone seems to have a chunk,” Jason grumbled, and Danny snickered. 

“Oh, pretty much. He’s the Caterpie of human souls. He never made a deal with me directly though,” he added quickly, without being fully sure why. 

He was pretty sure Jason wouldn’t jump straight to “Danny is a soul trader”, but honestly he’d gotten used to getting ahead of wilder trains of thought. 

“Oh? How’d you get twelve then?” Jason shot back, clearly warming back up to things. 

Mission accomplished. Danny grinned. 

“Well, previous Ghost King was in nappy time for a couple thousand years, but he had this whole thing about collecting souls to add to his army of thralls, so basically anyone could sign their soul over for a chunk of power. Real charmer,” Danny snorted, rolling his eyes. 

It was so far from the worst thing Pariah Dark had ever done, but so far it was definitely the longest lingering annoyance. 

“I got the impression,” Jason agreed in pretty much the same tone, prompting Danny to continue. 

Which. Yeah. Was more fun than thinking about the mountain of thrall contracts still awaiting their owner’s deaths, which the Observants were still fussing over. 

Nobody wanted more thralls, souls wiped clean of everything that made them, well, souls. Just unliving batteries. Even ghosts found them creepy. 

On the other hand, there was nothing the Observants loved more than rules. And the rules said a signed contract had to be honoured. 

Really they shoulda expected Danny to ask who the fuck signed for Pariah, since he was (again) in nappy time prison. He hoped nobody else died while they sorted that out. 

“Danny?” 

Ah. Yup, he did it again. Danny shook his head and sighed, kinda missing the wind in his hair. It kept him more present than the enclosed space of the helmet. 

“Sorry. So, John Constantine, clever bitch, wrote himself a contract that signed his soul over to the Ghost King, not Pariah Dark. Got through whatever screening was in place no problem, and now he’s my problem.” 

A problem that Clockwork had presented Danny with on his fucking birthday no less. 

That had been part one of the soul screening process; who was stuck with Pariah by name, and ho boy that was a depressingly long list… and still growing, though it had slowed recently. 

News of Pariah losing his crown was slow to spread, and frankly Danny himself could be doing more to help that, except. Well. 

Not taking the damn crown himself until he had to. Not wanting to give the creeps of the world anything to call him. 

There were a lot of good reasons, okay? And Clockwork had specially singled out Constantine’s contract and delivered it to Danny himself as a birthday present. 

“Well, that explains one,” Jason agreed with a snicker, pulling to a stop in front of the police station, “but what about the other eleven times?” 

Danny snorted a laugh, sliding off the bike and stretching. As much fun as hugging Jason at high speeds was, he didn’t like being still for too long. 

“Tax season,” he explained cheerfully, pulling off the helmet and looking around, “I guess we’re meeting Harley here?” 

Snickering to himself, Jason pulled off his own helmet and tucked it into the storage on the back of his bike. Danny passed it over, noting that Jason had also had to get a second little pod for the other helmet. 

He wasn’t gonna ask. Maybe they were in storage? 

“Yeah, we’re meeting Harley here. Better not to swing by the manor for a while,” Jason added, his expression souring. 

Which did make Danny feel a little bad actually. He didn’t want to cause trouble for Jason with his family… 

But before he could say anything Jason ruffled his hair roughly, shaking his head. 

“It’s not your fault, Danny. This kinda shit happens every other week, Bruce gets on his bullshit and I steer clear. He’ll calm the fuck down eventually and remember to mind his own business,” he explained dryly, nodding towards the doors. 

Danny hesitated before moving to follow. It felt true, he could feel Jason’s sincere-exhausted-familiar-still over it clear as day, it just. 

“I’m still sorry I wound him up though,” Danny finally decided, heading after Jason up and in. Jason who rolled his eyes and held the door open. 

“Danny. He winds himself up. You could be a literal angel and he would not fucking care. You couldn’t unwind him even if you miraculously found the key. We’ve all tried,” Jason said with a sigh, though at least the anger seemed to have burned off into just… 

Tired. 

Jason just felt tired. 

Probably cuz he was off fucking around with Cass last night, but Danny wasn’t about to call him out on it. 

Not when they’d just walked into the police station (ew) and the wild sight of Harley Quinn, hair in pigtails and dressed in her signature red and black, sat on the duty officer’s desk with a bat. Filing her nails. 

Total silence filled the room, broken only by the swing of the doors opening as Danny and Jason stepped through. 

The whole room was watching her in a kind of terrified awe, like she was a particularly dangerous bomb waiting to go off. Danny’d swear they weren’t even breathing. 

She looked up as the door opened, grinning broadly at the sight of them and waving in a large, exuberant gesture. 

“Oh, there’s my boys! Hey boys!” She called in obvious delight, and half the room flinched. 

Didn’t seem to matter that she hadn’t even been in Gotham for ages, let alone being her former roguish self. She had the kind of presence that left a lasting impression. 

No wonder Danny liked her. She coulda fit right in with his ghost friends. 

Maybe she’d come join them for fight club. 

** 

Pulling himself slowly from sleep just a little past noon, Bruce had to admit he was feeling better. The headache had dulled to a low throb but he felt clearer. 

More aware of himself, and after a glass of water, more like he could take on the day. 

It was far from his first concussion and he was well used to navigating the symptoms over the next few days. So long as he didn’t get any serious memory loss he wasn’t going to worry about it. 

He had far more serious things to worry about, but even they seemed more manageable after almost nine hours of sleep. 

Honestly… he wasn’t surprised that Jason hadn’t come to the cave. Hadn’t agreed to stay away from Danny when asked.  

It had felt like a reasonable request at the time, like the bare minimum of common sense. But they didn’t have that kind of relationship anymore. 

Jason didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust Bruce’s judgement, in how to deal with criminals or anything else. 

Jason hadn’t been the boy who’d looked to Bruce with such trust, such wonder and awe, even before he’d died. 

Sometimes Bruce wondered where he’d gone wrong. 

But there was no use dwelling on the past. Bruce would like to re earn Jason’s trust some day, but he wouldn’t ignore their present relationship. 

Jason wouldn’t trust that Danny was a danger to him without proof, so Bruce would find that proof, if it existed. Hopefully before Jason’s condition became proof itself. 

The first and most obvious step would be to consult the Justice League Dark at today’s meeting, and then make arrangements for this doctor from the Infinite Realms. 

He’d have to look into those laws Jason mentioned ahead of the meeting. Perhaps bring them up to Constantine, see how it might affect matters with the Infinite Realms. 

A bitter part of him mused that he wouldn’t be surprised if the magician was completely unaware of most international laws, let alone the ones of the various lands he travelled, but still. 

The man had been so adamant that the Infinite Realms were completely beyond their ability to handle. That they should cut and run at any cost. 

Bruce could hardly imagine he’d be pleased that the US had apparently declared its inhabitants the targets of its newest genocide. 

Of course, changing the laws and having them struck down would take time, but Bruce still hoped that the act of beginning might be enough. 

Enough for him to visit Jason’s doctor in the Realms or some other neutral ground, since the doctor couldn’t come here. 

Jason had said that he would be fine, not that he was already fine. Bruce wouldn’t have believed him if he had, not really; Jason hadn’t been fine since he’d been dunked in those damn pits. 

Their poison had stuck with him far longer than anyone Bruce had ever heard of. 

Hells, Bruce had had his own dunking. He could just barely remember the rage that had forced itself down his throat, into his lungs as he was brutally thrust back into the land of the living. 

He had controlled it, had mastered it quickly, and now it was nothing more than a faint scrap of memory. Even that was still enough to grant his deepest sympathy to Jason’s struggles. 

If the rage had never left him… 

But no, he decided, going through his morning routine like he was still the young playboy Brucie who never showed his face before 3pm. 

There was no point in indulging those thoughts either. He had mastered the pit’s fury, and it released him. For whatever reason, Jason hadn’t. 

And now they all had to deal with the consequences. 

Still, Bruce let himself hope for the future instead. 

If his children were right, if Jason was right… if Danny or this mysterious doctor from the Infinite Realms could help him with the pit rage… 

He might one day see that little boy again. The boy who looked at Bruce like he’d hung the stars, who could fly because Robin made him magic. 

There was nothing in this world or any other that Bruce wouldn’t give to see Jason whole again. To see him happy. 

The United States government were going to learn (again) what it meant to come between the Batman and the safety of his sons. 

The Justice League’s meeting would be in another four hours. He had plenty of time to do some research and amend their presentation. 

So long as Jason was right. 

And speaking of Jason… there was just one other thing he’d like to do this morning. Heaving a sigh while he had the privacy of his room, Bruce pulled up his phone again. 

He didn’t quite indulge himself as far as making a face as he punched in Constantine’s number, because concussed or not he was an adult. And he was going to need the man’s help. 

Surely Jason wouldn’t object to a single check in with a trusted practitioner? 

As the phone rang, Bruce once again cursed the circumstances that kept Zatanna off world. He was about 75% sure that Jason actually liked her. 

But maybe the extent to which Constantine annoyed Bruce would also cheer him up. 

The call went through, and Bruce snapped his wandering attention back. Maybe he’d take the rest of the day off after the meeting. Heal up a little more. 

Alfred would be proud. 

“Constantine. A moment of your time before the meeting?” It even sounded like a question, not a command. Sleep really had done him a world of good. 

**

Part of Jason wished he could say he was surprised that Harley had taken GCPD HQ hostage just by showing up, but he honestly wasn’t. 

Part of him wished he didn’t think that was exactly her intention, but… he didn’t particularly like lying to himself. Harley was fun. 

And got results, even if she also tended not to end lives. He could respect that. 

And promised not to rat him out to Danny, even if she made no promises about Waylon, who definitely also knew both his identities. 

That… Jason wasn’t really surprised by that either. They’d never talked about it, but Waylon had definitely known he was the second Robin for some time. 

A few of the rogues did, or at least assumed as much from the way the Batman would either obsessively chase or obsessively avoid him in mask. 

Jason personally preferred and egged on the side that thought Red Hood was Batman’s evil twin brother. Or clone. Mostly because Bruce hated them. 

Knowing civilian identities was a step beyond that Bruce would certainly never admit that more than one or two knew, but Jason had (slightly) less issues. 

It was kinda an open secret among the rogues who’d been around since the glory days; Bruce Wayne is Batman. As Danny so rightly said of Dick, the butts matched. 

(Jason was considering adding more padding to the body armour in his pants, if only to change the silhouette, because that was a fucked yet accurate identifier apparently.) 

Most of the rogues didn’t fucking care, Joker and Two Face especially, but it was something that no one talked about. 

And that they all specifically agreed to keep from Riddler for as long as possible. 

(It was his punishment for being obnoxious at trivia nights in Arkham; no one bothered to suggest banning him or asking him to behave.) 

For rogues like the Gotham City Sirens? Hadn’t been a secret since Bruce took off the mask for Selina. 

Killer Croc probably wasn’t technically one of the sirens yet (and wouldn’t that be fun?) but he hung out with Harley, and despite his size he wasn’t stupid. 

The only thing Jason was a little worried about was Waylon mentioning his current alter ego in front of Danny, but honestly the fact that they were at a police station would probably keep his lips closed. 

All vigilantes were illegal. 

Red Hood was illegal and a serial killer. 

And probably couldn’t get the silent and terrified reverence Harley currently held over the station even if he walked in with a rocket launcher. 

She beamed at them, hopping down off the desk with her bat over her shoulder. A little closer, Jason noted that this bat was also bedazzled, but in a different pattern from the one she’d had last night. 

Or the same bat, redone, but he wasn’t putting money on it. 

She hopped down off her desk and skipped across the room towards them, and Jason wished for half a second that he could command half as much menace doing something so… well, innocent. 

But no, he just put heads in a bag, that wasn’t scary apparently. Fucking Gotham. 

He obediently bent down for Harley to kiss his cheek, not wanting to be yanked around in the cop shop (even as a civilian), and still managed to be surprised when Danny also accepted a cheek kiss and then returned it. 

Harley squealed in delight and ruffled his hair, then pinched both Danny’s cheeks. 

“Awww, ain’t you all cute and cosmopolitan! So, shall we go see my big green bestie!” She declared happily, releasing Danny and turning back to lead the way out of the room. 

Didn’t go for the keys. Didn’t address the question to anyone who should have been leading them down. Just got going, the way Harley always did. 

No one moved to stop them. 

** 

Surprising precisely no one, Harley absolutely knew the way down to the cells at the GCPD. Not from a lotta personal experience, o’ course. 

Nah, Harley usually went from crime scene to Arkham back in the day, but she’d known people and busted people out of holding before. 

It had taken a couple real big favours to get Waylon kept here instead of shipped back to Arkham, but that was what favours were for. No one liked having a Harley-debt over their heads. 

And Brucie’s word was gonna get Waylon released on her recognizance, once she scooped some shivering copper out from under their desk. 

He’d have to actually behave this time though. No big bat-centric events, nothin’ above ground. 

Honestly… she might ask him ta head home. Being in Gotham wasn’t good for either of them. Too many old patterns and bad habits, and Waylon had been doin’ a real good job keeping his nose clean. 

If he wanted ta head back to Coney, they could get ‘im a ride. And if he didn’t, well, she’d have someone to watch the new show with.

Her two baby birds were following her like good little ducklings too, absolutely adorable. Although… she paused for a second, cocking her head. 

“Is there a reason we’ve got theme music?” She asked with a delighted giggle as the song clicked. 

It was a little muffled, but Styx’s Renegade? Ballsy choice for a trip to the cop shop. 

The question seemed to surprise both boys though, and then Danny sighed, reaching back to pat a weirdly bulging pocket. 

“Yeah, I upset my techno-god bestie this morning. Apparently my punishment is a soundtrack of my life,” he said dryly. 

Jason paused, a slight frown on his face as he listened too. 

“Wait, it changed? I thought you were on a loop?” He asked, and that was an interesting development. 

Danny just shrugged. 

“Yeah, he’s probably keeping an eye on us and changing it up when he thinks it’s funny. I think I know this song,” he added with a slight frown, brows furrowing as he listened. 

Jason listened a moment longer, then snickered and shook his head. 

“Tuck’s got good taste in music,” he said simply, and yeah, Harley remembered Tucker from dinner. Another lil cutie, all tucked up with Timmy in their own little world half the time. 

Damn good at Mariokart and Spiderheck too. 

Danny snorted and flipped Jason off. 

“Suck up.” 

And immediately the music changed, flipping straight to Pink’s Slut Like You, suddenly louder… although that mighta also been the song. 

Danny groaned as his pocket loudly declared that he was not a slut, and Jason laughed at him entirely unapologetically. 

“And that’s why I’m not the one with the soundtrack,” he declared smugly and Danny sighed, raising both hands in unequivocal surrender. 

“Yes, yes, I’m a bad and naughty boy and I’m getting my just punishment. Can we just get going?” He asked almost rhetorically. 

The music changed again, sultry twanging of a guitar before Lil Nas X began to sing Montero. It took Harley a moment longer to place it than the boys, both of whom now looked confused. 

“I can’t tell if he’s encouraging you or not,” Jason said finally, and Danny sighed. 

“Well I’ve pole danced into Hell before, so I’m taking it as a compliment either way,” he decided with a shrug, trying to shove what looked like an overstuffed sock deeper into his pocket. “I swear the volume shouldn’t get this loud.” 

“Joys of a touchy tech friend,” Harley opined with a snicker, glancing around to see if there were cameras Tucker could be watching from. She blew both she found a kiss, then spun to continue their quest. 

And realized that neither of the boys had followed her, both now watching her warily. 

“What?” She asked, frowning and turning to see if she’d stepped in something. Nope, just clean floors. 

“Danny’s sin was calling Tucker overdramatic,” Jason explained, and oh. Yeah, that explained the looks. 

Harley waved a hand cheerfully, deliberately brushing it off. 

“An’ now he’s givin’ ya life a soundtrack, so I dunno that he disagrees,” she said lightly, skipping back towards the stairs, “c’mon!” 

And when no new burst of music began to switch out Lil Nas, the boys got to following again, Danny grumbling about unfairness. 

Harley liked Danny. He had a refreshing lack of fucks to give, a good sense of humour, and he doted on Jason, who fucking deserved it. 

They’d be so good together, and Harley was gonna have the time of her life watchin’ them work that out. 

Which, now that she thought of it… 

“Hey, by th’ way, ya said ya didn’t wanna meet at the manor?” She prodded, turning to walk backwards down the steps to the cells, frowning at Jason, “what’d Brucie do now?” 

And watched the ease in Jason’s face freeze, muscles tightening, and Harley sighed. Yeah, a trip back to the manor was definitely in order. 

“Just his usual bullshit,” Jason grumbled, running a hand through his already wild helmet hair. Danny snickered beside him and gave her a broad grin. 

“Jason’s officially banned from hanging out with me,” he explained far too smugly, since there wasn’t a chance Jason would have listened to any Bruce-ban. 

But, he was beside the tall and handsome stud he had a crush on, so Harley wasn’t gonna argue. She grinned back at him, just as her foot nearly slipped on a step. 

Before the fall could fully start, she pushed off harder with the other foot, dodging both startled hands grabbing for her, and turned the fall into a backflip down the rest of the stairs. 

Taking gymnastics as a kid really should be a prerequisite for villainy. Especially with the Robins flipping around all over the place. 

She landed almost perfectly, stepping onto her back foot and then raising both arms and giving the boys a little bow. Then she sighed, resting her bat over her shoulder and mock pouting, tapping the side of her jaw. 

“I guess I’m just gonna have ta go back and give ‘im a lil percussive maintenance… bet he hasn’t been restin’ right since he got that concussion either. Maybe I’ll call Selina ta keep ‘im in bed for a week,” she mused. Jason mock puked. 

“I thought you wanted him to rest,” Danny snickered, earning himself a glare from his one true love. A consequence that did not phase him in the least. 

Harley laughed and waved a hand lightly, skipping ahead to get the door into the hall that held the actual cells while they descended the rest of the stairs. 

“Oh, she’s a big girl, Selina can do the work,” she teased, laughing louder when Jason groaned like his soul was being sucked out. 

There was a cop still sat behind the desk just inside the door, an older man whose stocky frame had started softening with age. 

He didn’t quite jump out of his seat as she entered, but dark eyes widened and ruddy skin paled when he saw her. Which, yeah, she had that effect on people. 

“Why are you here?” He demanded, voice only shaking a little. 

Harley gave him a sceptical once over. 

Not someone she’d run into personally, though probably on the force when she’d been active. Off the streets now, probably not far from retirement and trying to make it all the way there. 

Not a lotta Gotham cops did these days, in spite of the rampant corruption. Being in the Penguin’s pocket did sweet fuck all to protect ya when Scarecrow was having a hissy fit. 

This old bugger had probably joined back in the bad ol’ days when they could just ignore mob crimes, hassle the homeless, and look the other way if a situation got violent. 

These days between Gordon, the bats, and the increasingly dramatic rogues (among which she still counted herself even if Batsy didn’t, she had a reputation to uphold)? 

Lookin’ the other way wasn’t the protection it used ta be, and bein’ conveniently “late” to a crime scene didn’t help much either. 

This guy? Probably folded like cheap laundry at the first sign of trouble, but he’d stayed in place. That’d make her job easier anyway. 

Smiling sweetly at him, Harley strolled forwards and propped her bat on the floor, both hands on the handle as she leaned forward over it. 

“Pickin’ up a friend,” she told him sweetly, nodding to the line of cells down the hall, “Uber for Mr Waylon Jones?” 

The guy (Officer Perkins, said the name tag, but he’d not really proved himself memorable yet) swallowed visibly, hands shaking but still visible above the desk. 

Not going for a weapon. Not surprising. 

No one who’d seen a gun pulled on Harley before tended to try it themselves. Just like the Robins, she was a tough target. You had to be real sure. 

“Do you have the appropriate paperwork?” He rasped, a Gothamite accent still prominent despite the quiver. 

Harley raised an eyebrow, letting her smile go deadly sweet. 

“Would ya stop me if I didn’t?” She cooed, rocking forwards on her toes and grinning when his chair slammed back almost two feet. 

The shaking had progressed to a full body shiver, sweat dripping down a blotchy brow as he slammed a ring of keys on the edge of the desk, as close as he was willing to get. 

Harley scooped them up and straightened, tipping him a wink as she sauntered past. 

“Thanks bud! But yeah, I do actually have the paperwork, Judge Thompson’s gonna fax it all along this afternoon,” she told him brightly, twirling the ring of keys around one finger as she skipped back towards the cells. 

The judge’d fax it after she had another lil chat with Brucie. They’d cut things short last night, apparently too short for even their actual chat to finish sinking in. 

Gotta fix that. 

And remember to mention Waylon. 

And maybe see if he had any info on her own little issue. Though she might hit Barbara up for that first, bring some treats down library way. 

It was gonna be a busy day for ol’ Harley, but at least she got to spend time with the kids first. 

“Was that really necessary?” Jason asked with a raised eyebrow, following her down the hall with barely a glance at their shaking audience. 

“Necessary?” Harley asked sweetly, glancing into the first couple cells and skipping on. “No. Fun, yes!” 

“See this is why I like her,” Danny decided with a sage nod, and Harley shot him a wink, “she knows how to have a good time.” 

“I know how to have a good time,” Jason said immediately, and holy shit that was just sooooooo cute she nearly dropped the keys to go pinch his little cheeks again. 

Just all pouty and defensive and they weren’t even talkin’ about him! It was too much, Harley couldn’t stand it! 

“Yeah, and I like you too,” Danny replied in what he probably thought was a cool way, but no, that was just fucking adorable too. 

Too. 

Cute. 

Harley was gonna die. 

And maybe get herself a cool glowy transformation sequence apparently, which would be kinda cool. She’d always kinda wanted a magical girl moment. 

She could be their fairy-ghost-mother! 

And, to be fair ta Waylon, she had definitely gotten side tracked again. Almost forgot who she was here for. 

But really, it did not mean he had to make a grab for her when she almost walked right past his cell! She coulda done him an injury! 

He released her arm before the bat came down though, chuckling in that growly way of his and raising both hands. 

“Hey. Didn’t want you goin’ right past,” he said innocently, and Harley sighed fondly and reached her bat through the bars to bonk him gently on the head. 

“Hush you, I’m not that distractible,” she scolded him, completely ignoring any disbelieving noises from her two little love birds, “an’ anyway, you gotta be nice to me. I’m bustin’ yer ass out.” 

She jangled the keys at Waylon instead, then began swiping through them for the right one. 

The big guy obediently stepped back to let her look, his attention shifting past her to Danny and Jason. 

“An’ you brought company,” he growled, a wry grin on his face. She had to wonder if he’d noticed how dang adorable they were already at the gala. 

She’d missed soooo much! But he’d catch her up, because that’s what besties did. And cuz she’d kick all the kittens out of his room if he didn’t. 

Jason shrugged, coming up behind her to lean on the bars. 

“I had a passing interest in why you wanted to use me as bait for Two Face. We’re not exactly close,” he explained, the edited down version for their legal listeners in. 

“Ya got balls for a rich kid,” Waylon chuckled just as Harley found the key. One quick victory fist pump and she got to work on the lock. 

Really, there was a reason modern stations had one key ta open all the cells. Or electric locks. What if there was a fire? 

But then, it was Gotham. They’d happily let all their perps burn. An’ probably keep usin’ it as an excuse why they all needed a fat budget increase. 

“Victory! An’ he’s my adorable lil nephew, Croccy, so you’re gonna play nice,” she warned Waylon sternly, swinging the door open and wagging a finger at him sternly. 

Again, for the benefit of their audience, but also because she enjoyed putting on a little panto. A bit o’ show. 

(She’d have to remember to tell him Danny wasn’t in on the whole Hood secret though. She’d slip it in somewhere.) 

Waylon grunted in amusement and stepped through the door, stretching to his full height and breadth in the hallway. And stopping. 

“Who’s playin’ music?” He asked, head cocked as he tried to trace the muffled sound. 

Honestly, Harley’d kinda forgot it was playing until he said it. 

Danny sighed again, at his most put upon, and raised a hand. 

“I have offended the technogod and am being punished by soundtrack,” he explained in a tone so dry it desiccated. And didn’t exactly help. 

Harley patted the now-more-confused Croc on the elbow. 

“He’s upset one of his lil nerd friends by callin’ him dramatic, so his friend hacked ‘is phone to make it play music,” she explained much more helpfully for sure. 

Again, Jason and Danny took slight steps away from her. 

Again, nothing continued to happen. 

Harley’s smile grew more smug. 

“An’ apparently said friend still can’t get inta mine,” she declared brightly, shooting another glance up at the security camera and tapping her pocket. 

Waylon grunted again, clearly not needing to ask further because her explanation was perfect, and gave Danny a nod of recognition. 

“An’ is that why you’re here? Mood music?” He asked, heading off down the hall back towards the doors. Which, yeah, they had places to be. 

Danny brightened right away, grinning up at Waylon and moving to let the big guy pass. 

“Unless you want a rematch? I haven’t been tossed around like that in a while and I could use the exercise,” he snarked, and yeah, this was why Harley liked him. 

Waylon clearly did too, snickering and clapping a massive hand on Danny’s head on his way by. 

“Mouth like that’s gonna get yer killed one day, kid,” he grumbled, ignoring the still cowering cop as they made for the stairs. 

And Danny, bless him, angel of timing, just laughed and followed along, shooting Jason a wicked grin. 

“Oh, it’s way too late for that,” he said light as air, making Jason let out a snort of laughter. 

Waylon glanced down to Harley again, fully aware he’d missed something. She gave him another pat on the elbow. 

“Jason an’ Danny met at Dead Kids Anonymous. Kid’s got himself a ghost transformation an’ everything,” she explained simply, which didn’t have to be completely true to get the point across. 

It made Waylon snicker again, even as Danny cackled along behind them. 

“Now THAT is what we’re telling everyone else. We might as well have,” he rasped between laughter. 

His pocket music seemed to have changed to Thriller. Appropriate. 

Jason rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning. 

Harley didn’t think she’d seen him smile this much the entire time he was alive again. It was nice; most of the times she’d seen him as Robin they’d been fightin’, but he’d always been havin’ so much fun. 

At least he looked like he had. Poor kid deserved to smile a whole lot more too. 

Waylon was taking the news of Danny’s lack of mortality pretty well, giving the kid a thoughtful look. They’d made their way mostly out of the station now, their little bubble of terrified silence moving with them. 

That’d get old one day, but until then Harley was gonna take advantage. 

“Maybe we’ll have another tussle then,” he agreed with a low chuckle, holding the door for the others to leave through. Real southern gent. “Good t’know I won’t break ya.” 

Danny bounced through the door as chipper as Harley herself, giving him a beaming smile. 

“Hell yeah, we’ll find somewhere nice and out of the way. Oh, we had some questions too though,” he added almost as an afterthought, giving Jason a sheepish look that again: too cute. 

Maybe that was how he’d really died. Too cute to live. Though she’d let him make that joke himself. 

Jason didn’t seem bothered, though he did look a little more tense. Not sure where they’d be taking this, more’n likely. 

“Once we get somewhere private,” Waylon agreed, glancing between Jason and Harley himself. 

That probably meant it was on her to pick a destination then. Well, Harley had a place in mind that (while not technically private) wouldn’t involve onlookers. 

“Yeah, I know a spot! I’ll send ya the address, Jayjay, an’ we’ll meet ya there. Don’t think we’ll get four on that bike,” she teased, pulling out her phone. 

She knew the perfect spot, and it’d give her a chance to loop Waylon in. All good news. 

Jason held up a hand quickly.

“Not got mine on me. Text Danny,” he called, and Harley waved her phone over her head in acknowledgement. It might give Tucker a way to jump into her phone, she wouldn’t know.

Tech wasn’t her shtick. Just a good thing they’d all exchanged numbers the night before.

** 

It was a weird feeling to have his body shaken while his consciousness was so far from it. 

Feeling his face pull into a frown not quite mirroring what he felt it should be. Tucker could never have explained precisely what part of him entered his devices; just that it was him. 

Quintessential, pure essence of Too Fine. Everything he was without the meat he was born in. 

But then he did have to slot back into that meat, and trying to do that without matching positions always left him feeling weirdly off kilter the next day. Like he’d put on a shirt but the shoulders were skewed too short. 

So despite not being conscious of a face on his extended form, Tucker tried to form it into a frown anyway, sliding back under his own skin like a teen sneaking back through a window after curfew. 

Hadn’t those been heady days? 

Eyes slowly opening, it took Tucker a moment to remember how to focus them. That they weren’t cameras. But then Tim Drake-Wayne came into focus, and the frown changed to a grin even before he fully “woke up”. 

“Morning,” he mumbled, rolling and stretching, getting used to the feeling of a body again. It was a little weirder each time, which he might have worried about if he didn’t see himself as an extension of his PDA anyway. 

“You were singing in your sleep,” Tim told him without preamble, returning the smile. 

Tucker hesitated for a moment, suddenly embarrassed. If… well. If he’d been singing along, that… 

Look he’d picked songs that’d embarrass Danny, he wasn’t gonna give a fuck about it. The only actual question was, did he tell Tim? 

Who else would ever understand better just what it meant to interact with tech the way he could? Could get excited with him about how cool it was? 

He wasn’t fucking gushing to Technus. No way. Tuck was easily the one winning that ongoing hackathon, but it was the principle of the thing. 

To the zone with it. Tim knew about Amity Park, he knew about the ghosts and the liminal tech. And while they hadn’t exactly discussed liminal people, it’d come up. 

Tim could have a sneak preview. As a treat. 

Decision made, Tucker gave the younger man another broad smile because yeah, bragging about your super powers to a very cool and impressive person? That felt good. 

Tim might be a vigilante too, but Tucker was pretty sure Jason was the only souped up Robin. Most of the bats were famously power free. 

“Oh, yeah. I was bullying Danny,” he explained with a light chuckle, glancing up to find his beloved PDA, Ida. She was half under a blanket now, so he tugged her back out. 

Tim chuckled softly, leaning back and stretching himself. 

“Good dream?” He asked and Tucker snickered, stroking gently across the screen. 

“Danny wishes it was a dream.” Tucker paused, frowning a little at the confusion on Tim’s face. “So you remember we kinda talked about the whole liminal thing?” 

That seemed to jog Tim’s memory, confusion fading into an analytical frown that Tucker was already becoming familiar with. That good ol’ geek face. 

“The humans with budding ghost powers,” he agreed, and Tucker had to wonder if maybe he just hadn’t put the right pieces together yet. 

He hadn’t exactly said that most of Amity Park were liminal, but it was a little hard to remember he had to. Like, they lived on a portal to Hell. 

Maybe he shoulda. 

Well, at least it was a cool way to introduce it to him. 

Tucker pulled Ida into his lap, flipped her over, and tapped the plain plastic backing to demonstrate. 

“Mine’s a low level technopathy at the moment,” he explained as the PDA hummed and then began playing… well, still Montero, so he flicked it again and changed it immediately to Country Roads. 

Tim was watching him with a kind of hungry fascination, and Tucker turned the music off with a thought, then passed her to Tim so he could check for secret touchpads. 

“It’s not something I can do with anything,” he explained with a modest shrug, grinning with pride as Tim immediately got to scanning the casing. 

All simple plastic, not even biometrics; what would be the point? Even touching the PDA was pretty much a formality at this point. She was a part of him. 

“Technopathy? So you can control it with your mind? Why not with anything?” Tim asked eagerly, hands stroking over the plastic, eyes darting between it and Tucker. 

Like he wasn’t sure which was more interesting, Tuck or tech, and Tucker absolutely took that as a compliment. 

“It has to be a device I’ve really gotten into. Like, down to the source code, or something I’ve cracked before a couple times, and then I can just feel how all of it works.”

Tucker wiggled his fingers demonstratively and the PDA beeped to life under Tim’s hands, making the other man gasp. And yeah, totally envy in those cute blue eyes he turned all balefully on Tucker. 

“How many of the functions can you use? Anything the PDA can do, or…” Tim trailed off, clearly thinking of everything he’d already seen the PDA do. 

The real question would have been what couldn’t Ida do. And honestly? Yeah, Tucker remembered the trial phase. 

He gave another shrug. 

“Technically? Yeah, anything she can do, but I still prefer hacking the old fashioned way. Most of the network stuff too, cuz I’m only really “in” the PDA. Or Danny or Sam’s phones.” 

Tucker hesitated, wondering how best to really explain the difference. Danny had never been any good at it, Tucker’d had no idea what he was talking about from the video game thing right up until he’d been sucked in himself. 

Which… was probably gonna be a next-hangout adventure for Tim and the bats. And Oracle, if he could swing it. 

For now he gave up, giving Tim a hopeless grin. 

“Honestly it’s something you’ve really gotta feel for yourself. Danny’s great at the transition from real world to code, but he always just punches things, y’know? Turns out knowing how code is actually supposed to work doesn’t translate well to being part of it,” he added with a sigh. 

Because frankly? It was bullshit unfair. Tucker could code an entire other galaxy around Danny with his eyes closed, but put them in the same metaphysical layer as a firewall and Danny could just. 

Punch it. 

Which, theme for the week, was also not how firewalls fucking worked. At some point Tuck figured he’d either gain a new level of understanding through liminality, or give up and ask Technus a couple questions. 

Technus was currently Tucker’s subject instead of Danny’s anyway. They’d made a bet. 

Which meant Technus shoulda told him about their shenanigans in time, which was probably what Tucker would hold over his head for the whole firewall thing. 

It was so nice when things just worked themselves out. 

Tim looked a little disappointed, but mostly still intrigued. Tucker could see his fingers just itching for his own tablet to take notes. 

“Do you think that’ll change?” He asked, blurting it out like he couldn’t hold back now that Tucker stopped talking, “I mean, if you become more liminal? Or just practice your abilities more?” 

And see, this was what Tucker loved about Tim Drake-Wayne. They were on the same wavelength. He grinned back. 

“Probably. But I mean, it’s kinda cheating too. For now I kinda like that I have to do things the way I always used to first, before any ghostly powers kick in. It’s more me, y’know?” And like hell he’d let anyone think his code skills were just some meta ability. 

He’d worked damn hard for those skills, and he was damn good. One of the best, and he was also good enough to know he still wasn’t actually top of the charts. 

That was the Oracle, although knowing they still hadn’t cracked his servers felt really good. 

Tim was all but vibrating, clearly full of questions, but they were both interrupted by a loud growl from Tucker’s stomach. Immediately echoed by Tim’s, so at least he wasn’t alone. 

The two shared sheepish grins, and then Tucker stretched. 

“So, breakfast and then Twenty Questions?” He offered cheerfully, and Tim nodded at once, thrusting the PDA back and rolling off the frankly massive bed. 

“We can start while we eat, everyone else has probably gone out by now,” he said over one shoulder, stripping out of his clothes from the previous night and hurrying for his closet. 

Ah hell, Tucker had only brought the one change of clothes… which Alfred had laundered yesterday after the snowball fight. Which would mean they were. 

In a place. 

Probably in the manor. 

Maybe in the room they’d talked about setting up? 

He looked to Tim, and only then noticed that his tech idol was shucking off his boxers in exchange for new ones, entirely unselfconscious. 

Tucker frowned back down at his current borrowed shirt instead, waiting til he at least heard both feet on the floor before looking over again. Tim might not care, but in case he did, Tucker could be a gentleman. 

And then he could ask the important question. 

“Speaking of Alfred… my clothes?” He asked hopefully, and yeah, the way Tim’s mouth dropped open and his brain visibly blue screened? 

Just like Danny. They were gonna get along great. 

** 

Of all the top secret, private places in Gotham to go and have a villainous chat… Danny never would have expected a milkshake bar. But like he’d said last night, that was kinda what made it perfect. 

Who’d expect to find Harley Quinn and Killer Croc, properly Waylon, sat in a pastel pink corner booth in the back of the bar? 

Honestly, none of the staff seemed surprised. But they might not have been to see all the bats walk in; it was Gotham. Rogues happened. If no one pulled a weapon, don’t be the reason that changes. 

It made him feel right at home, really. Just like Amity Park. 

And they made a damn good milkshake. Danny took another deep slurp of his, cookie butter and cheesecake was definitely a combo he’d been sleeping on. 

If pressed, he couldn’t really explain what he’d wanted out of this meeting. 

Something in what Harley had said last night had struck home in a way he hadn’t expected, but with Waylon in front of him now… well, for one thing he seemed a lot more like just some guy who happened to be green. 

And who was just adorably happy with his cotton candy milkshake, complete with little umbrella. 

At the gala, he’d been big and menacing and monstrous, all things Danny was very used to and meant “friend” more often than they meant anything else. He’d still take a rematch, but he just… 

Well, that was just it, wasn’t it? 

Waylon really wasn’t all that monstrous, if you looked the faintest scratch past sharpened teeth and scales. He was polite to the servers, a happy straight-man to Harley’s jokes, and he could have teased Jason more for Danny’s tastes but it was definitely effective. 

Jason was much more at ease here with two rogues than he’d been any time his adoptive dad was around. That… well, Danny knew full well he didn’t know much about Jason’s life. 

It felt like he’d learned a whole lot more just today already, though again, it’d be hard to explain exactly what. 

The conversation had been light, easy, and full of banter so far, and Danny really wasn’t sure how to segue from that to “so you were called a monster all your life”. 

Because while for the most part Danny now only had to deal with the GIW calling him a monster (and they’d been quiet for years now, still rebuilding after the whole “bomb the ghost zone” bs)… the things his parents had called him still hurt. 

The things people thought he was, ghosts and living alike, he just… he didn’t know what to do with it. These days he could mostly ignore it, and unlike Waylon he could even pass for living. 

(Never for a ghost though. He’d never be able to stop any ghost from seeing him and knowing immediately, instinctively, that he was other.) 

In some ways it felt like meeting Vlad all over again, but without the crushing disappointment. Well, what it might have been to learn there was another halfa if he hadn’t preceded it by being a massive creep. 

It was… complicated. And all tangled up in his feelings around Jason, because Jason actually was like him and really did get it, or would soon. 

And Jason clearly liked Waylon, for all he grimaced and bitched about the deadpan teasing. Waylon had a lot of interesting stories about Jason’s cape days, most of which Jason hurried to try to interrupt. 

Harley had more, and they’d sat at opposite ends of the table before the boys had arrived, almost certainly so Jason couldn’t shush them both at once. 

If he clapped a hand over Harley’s mouth, Waylon would either take up the tale or start one of his own, and vice versa. There was just no way Jason could win. 

It reminded Danny of his own rogues, though maybe more Fright Knight than Ember or Johnny. The ones he got along with, but more respectfully than just his friends. 

Kinda like watching Harley with the rest of the bat-brood. 

Danny was very nobly doing his best not to enjoy it too much; within a week or two it’d be his turn roughhousing with his rogues, and he was hoping Jason would return the favour. 

There was no way he could get any kind of ghost fight club going without his usual players, and those were the ones with all the most embarrassing stories of his early days. 

Johnny and Kitty especially had blackmail material for days, so as much as Danny was loving the lil baby Robin stories (carefully never actually mentioning the name, since no one was masked)… no, his feeling was kinda more impending doom. It’d be his turn soon. 

And Ancients help them if Harley and Waylon met Johnny and Kitty… nope, not thinking about that. Suppressing a shudder, Danny deliberately tuned back in to Waylon’s story about the time he’d kidnapped Bruce Wayne. 

At least Jason was having fun with this one. 

Of course, it couldn’t have the obvious ending; whether or not Waylon had known at the time that he had Batman, you couldn’t mention the punch line out in public. It’d be rude. 

He left the story at the Robin beat down instead, declaring that the big Bat himself hadn’t even bothered to show up. Didn’t quite go full stage wink, but it was pretty much the next best thing. 

Danny laughed along with the table and Jason shook his head, settling back into his seat with a low huff. 

“Fun as this is, we did have some questions,” he said, voice just a little lower than before. 

Danny was a little surprised he’d bring it up in such a public space. Right up until Harley glanced around, nodded, and settled back into her seat. 

“Clear too. Any o’ the gawkers ‘ve been seen out,” she agreed with a slight nod. 

Danny startled, looking around himself. The milkshake bar was… about half as full as it had been when they arrived. His confusion must have been obvious, because Waylon snickered. 

“It ain’t the Iceberg Lounge, kid, but this is one of Dr Freeze’s more self sustaining operations. Can’t all be heisting diamonds,” he added with a slight shrug. 

Not noticeably less confused, Danny turned to Jason instead. Jason chuckled softly, shaking his head and giving Danny a grin that was almost proud. 

“Shit, you’ve lived in Gotham a year and it’s a fucking miracle how little you know. Iceberg Lounge is the Penguin’s upscale club. This place is run by the guy we talked about last night, freeze rays and diamond heists,” he explained quickly. 

Harley snickered, draping her arms over the back of their booth. 

“An’ if some o’ his ol’ Arkham buddies come in ta chat, his people know ta clear out anyone tryin’ to listen in too hard,” she added, nodding to one of the servers. 

Well. 

That tracked. 

Danny had also definitely thoroughly demolished his “keeping away from rogues” spree, which kinda sucked. But then, since he’d basically gone from one extreme to the other? 

Maybe that’d be fun to tell his classmates about too. It definitely tracked more with Danny’s understanding of his own luck. A whole year, no trouble? More like no chance. 

Also meant this had to be a safe place to talk, apparently. What was it about rogues that made them so eager to get on with each other but nobody else? 

Well, Danny got on with most of his now. But still. 

Jason leaned forward, arms folded on the table. 

“So what’s going on with Two Face, Waylon?” He asked quietly, still apparently aware of eavesdroppers. 

Waylon glanced around the bar, then shrugged, settling back against the booth. 

“Hard to say, with ‘im. Coulda been a coin flip, coulda been somethin’ else, but he wasn’t just gunnin’ for the gala. Somethin’ about you specifically put a bug in his ass, kid,” he added with a frown, nodding towards Jason. 

Something in Danny tensed, not liking the idea of anyone targeting Jason. Of course, it must have happened before… when he was Robin. 

And he’d died. 

Danny hadn’t even noticed he was clenching his fists until Jason nudged his foot under the table. 

Safe-worry-you okay? Jason’s aura was getting clearer, and Danny did his best to smile back. Sometimes his Obsession still snuck up on him. 

Forcing himself to relax, he grabbed his milkshake instead. It felt warm, which was odd until he realised his hands were icy cold. 

Not quite literally, but closer than he’d come in a while. 

Neither of the rogues seemed to have notice, Harley playing with her milkshake while she frowned at Waylon. 

“An’ you decided the best thing ta do was hit the gala first?” She asked dryly, her tone neatly conveying just what she thought of that idea. 

Waylon shrugged. 

“Not like I coulda swung an invite to get in nicely. Sounded like he had somethin’ real nasty planned, kid,” he added, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat. 

Jason frowned, giving Danny another soft kick on the ankle as he leaned forward. Unnecessarily, for sure, Danny totally had his shit under control now. 

“But no one said anything about why? I don’t think I’ve even met him,” Jason asked and yeah, that probably meant as Jason. Maybe even post Robin. 

Waylon shrugged again. 

“It’s fuckin’ Two Face. Maybe he ran outta matching targets and figured two lives had ta count?” He offered, though it looked like it was still bugging him too. 

Harley huffed and shook her head, blonde ponytails bouncing. 

“I’ll keep an ear out too.  There’s a couple people who’ll prefer talkin’ ta me over you, sugar,” she teased Waylon as he grunted, a tinkling laugh falling from her lips. 

Waylon snorted, but a reluctant smile curled his lips. 

“More likely to spill to ya,” he agreed in a low grumble, poking his straw around a mostly empty milkshake. 

Harley nodded brightly, clapping her hands. 

“Exactly! ‘Specially if they don’t want any of their own special lil secrets told,” she agreed with a truly wicked smile. Then she paused, a slight frown curling her brow. 

It was still a little weird to be able to see the moments where her brain revved up. Danny had to assume it was having been raised by Jazz; it was clearly easy for people to get lost in the bubbly exterior. 

Fingers drumming on the table now, something had clearly jogged her memory. 

“Might be somethin’ ta do with Black Mask too,” she said more quietly, gaze unusually serious as she caught Jason’s eyes, “he’s been quieter ‘n I like lately. Keepin’ ‘imself out of trouble.” 

Danny might just ask if Jason could get him a rolodex of the Gotham villains to match the server Danny had provided for the Zone. 

It did not help that they all had their own wild code names. He was used to dealing with people who had a lot of personality, sure, and theatrics. But ghosts usually just had the one name. 

Except apparently for Frighty, or Halloween as Danny would have to start calling him now. It’d take some getting used to. 

Jason noticed his desperately pleading puppy eyes and sighed. 

“Look, I’ll give you the rundown on everyone tonight. Black Mask is a whole ass problem. Crime boss for the False Face Society, really likes skinning peoples’ faces. Red Hood kicked him out of Crime Alley a couple years ago, he firmed his grip on the rest of Gotham, and him being quiet is never fucking good.” 

And as if that didn’t sound bad enough… 

“An’ he really doesn’t like Jason,” Waylon growled, shoulders tightening and straining his shirt. 

Something in Danny tensed again, and he forced himself to take a long, deep breath. Closed his eyes and took another. 

This was why he’d avoided the whole subject. Until now. 

He could taste Jason’s concern like a tang in the air as he spoke up. 

“There’s fuck all he can do while I’m in the Alley though. Unless something’s really changed he can’t challenge Red Hood,” he explained quietly, leaning in until their shoulders brushed. 

Harley heaved a dramatic sigh, raising a hand and waving to one of the servers. 

“Yeah, yeah, you jus’ take care of yaself, kid. Roman’s a pain in the ass an’ if ya let him kill ya again he’ll be intolerable,” she grumbled, the tone at odds with the cheery smile she gave the first server to glance over. “Another round!” 

“Anything different?” The server, a young man with shaggy blond hair asked. 

Danny considered it, since the menu was both extensive and interesting, but really? It’d complicate things, and he didn’t want to think about something else. 

Just the idea of some asshole gangster trying to kill Jason was bad enough. But he sucked in another deep breath and reminded himself that this was pretty much all speculative. 

Black Mask was quiet, not actively threatening, and Gotham had an army of vigilantes to keep an eye on him even before Harley and Waylon got involved. An army of vigilantes who all seemed to like Jason. 

Jason wasn’t worried. Danny wasn’t gonna go all protective mama bear on the guy just because rogues existed. 

The one thing he’d always promised himself was that even with a Protection Obsession, he was never gonna be as bad as Jazz at her clingiest. 

He loved his sister, she meant well, but he’d hated her constant fussing. Danny had actually died sure, but he’d come right back and she hadn’t noticed for months. 

Jason didn’t have a scratch on him. Or any reason to put up with a clingy almost-stranger, Danny reminded himself as he accepted his new milkshake, hiding a smile behind the glass. 

Hell, if Jason being Fright Knight meant he’d sense if Danny was in danger, maybe that could work both ways. That’d be worth asking Frostbite about, and they had to see him for Jason’s core checkup soon. 

Having survived one Clockwork encounter without a lecture, Danny wasn’t pushing his luck. 

And if it turned out that it wouldn’t be that easy… well, there were other ways Danny could know if Jason was hurt, and unless they had a way to change dimensions? No Gotham rogue could take Jason anywhere that Danny couldn’t find him. 

The feel of another halfa was still faint for now, barely noticeable unless Jason was in the same room, but it was already stronger. 

Or Danny was more used to looking for him. More used to the feel of his energy, the boiling rage of the pit tangled up in everything else that was Jason. 

Kinda a lot still angry, but tempered. Mixed in with that wonderful sense of humour, dry sarcasm and death jokes, and determination. 

Danny was pretty sure he could find Jason pretty much anywhere on Earth right now if he had to. And it would only get easier. 

With the question of Harvey Dent settled as much as it would be (and if a flip of a coin was all he needed, maybe as much as it could be), the conversation turned lighter. 

Harley and Waylon stayed off the topic of rogues, probably to minimise the need to keep filling Danny in. They also mostly avoided embarrassing baby Jason stories though. 

No, instead they filled Danny and Jason in on what they’d been up to down on Coney Island. 

Danny had never expected to enjoy another circus story again, let alone an actual freakshow, but somehow? Hearing Harley tell it, he almost wanted to drop by. 

Not see the damn show. Nope. Hard pass. 

But hanging out with the performers, Harley’s tenants? That sounded like fun. They were just ordinary people, if a bit to the left. 

Roller derby sounded great, even if Danny wouldn’t play it with humans. In the Ghost Zone though? They could probably make a rink. And baseball bats. 

Waylon’s stories were way more domestic too; there was just something about a 7’ crocodile man telling you about his efforts to finally hold the skittish little grey kitten upstairs. 

It was just… well. Like hanging out with Kitty and Johnny, or Wulf. Maybe the only people who could understand what it was like to be a vigilante were the rogues who fit the other half of the mold. 

They all lived lives skewed away from the normal, didn’t fit in. The more they talked and shared stories, the more Danny settled. Relaxed. 

Which was when the last piece finally fell into place. He knew what he wanted to ask Waylon now. 

** 

Still on edge from the night before, Constantine wasn’t exactly thrilled to bits to be hearing from the Big Bat again so soon. 

Honestly, why couldn’t he have a nice, normal emergency? Just the world ending, some arch demon jumping for the throne of Hell, a wayward amateur magician or cursed artefact? 

Why did it always have to be Amity fuckin’ Park? 

Still, after they’d given the whole League the rundown, John was planning on washing his hands of the whole affair. They’d be up to date, they’d have his recommendation (leave well enough alone), and whatever they did after that? 

That could be Zatanna’s problem. Or Shazam’s. Which didn’t really matter. 

So of course there was just one more thing that Batman wanted from him first. 

“A health check on yer revenant?” He asked skeptically, arms folded as he scowled at an annoyingly refreshed and rejuvenated looking Batman. 

Who just nodded patiently like he hadn’t said anything crazy. 

“Nothing strenuous. Just a check in, and then we move on to the meeting,” he agreed blandly, watching John from behind the cut outs. 

Constantine pinched the bridge of his nose and drew in a heavy breath. Let it out. Decided not to think about all of the things that could go wrong tangling with a fuckin’ revenant. 

Bats was still here, hale and healthy, so the kid was clearly used to extreme provocation. How bad could John’s company be? 

Way, way worse the little honest part of him supplied, but… 

Well. The worst of it all was, no matter how damn annoying the man was, how fucking insistent on poking into shit that’d get ‘em all killed? 

Constantine liked him. 

Just a bit. The tiniest, littlest bit, that he firmly ground under his heel at every opportunity, and especially when that poking was getting close to end-of-the-world levels. 

It was the only reason the League had his number at all, because John Constantine sure as shit was not a hero. He liked the world not ending, yeah, but he coulda had Zatanna call him for those. 

He just. Had maybe the very smallest soft spot for how earnest the Big Three all were, deep down. Wonder Woman especially, there was a lady who’d been in the game longer than John himself, and yet it never fuckin’ touched her. 

They still looked at the world, at an old shit like John Constantine, and saw something worth saving. 

So even when he was tired, stressed, and wondering just how deep he should dare to probe to check the Bat’s explorations in Amity Park hadn’t garnered the wrong kind of attentions… 

He huffed another reluctant sigh. It did not help knowing that even if he refused, the Bat would just argue him down until John gave in, or the meeting started. 

It was three hours before the meeting was due to start. 

Constantine would rather jump straight through the damn Fenton portal. 

“Fine,” he growled, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his trench coat. If the revenant got cranky, he could always hide behind the big Bat. 

The bastard didn’t even bother thanking him, just nodded like he’d expected John to agree all along, and made for the exit. 

Were they fuckin’ going out in full costume? In the middle of the day? 

Well heavens forbid Bruce Goddamn Wayne do anything subtly. 

** 

Tim’s afternoon was going great. Thanks to Tucker, he’d had a full and hearty brunch, which made Alfred happy. 

Tim wasn’t much of a gourmet himself, probably as a result of having to survive on what he could find in the house between his parents’ visits. So long as it went down his throat and kept him alive, he was happy. 

He knew Alfred’s cooking was great, it always tasted fantastic, he just… didn’t get excited about food. 

Tucker though? Tucker gushed enthusiastically over every bite, moaning loudly as he dug into pancakes, sausages, bacon, and even black pudding. 

He enjoyed his food almost as much as Wally, and Tim found himself savouring his own a little more as he watched. Usually he’d swallow half of it whole, just to get back to work. 

But he didn’t have a new case today. Sure, there was still work to do on Amity Park (and rewriting all of the Justice League reporting protocols, ugh). 

But he had Tucker here to help, and really, today could be about getting to know the guy. He’d more than learned his lesson from the last few days. 

It turned out that food tasted a whole lot better if he actually stopped to chew it. 

They’d talked while they ate too, Tucker often with his mouth full like he just couldn’t stop and wait to swallow. 

It was kinda adorable. 

Tim had shared some stories about the missions he’d been on with Young Justice, Tucker had told him more about Technus. There may have been a secret side trip to Amity Park in the works so Tim could meet him. 

And introduce Cassie to Pandora. 

There may also have been a secret side trip to the Ghost Zone being planned too. That one was gonna have to be extra-double-top-secret though, since Constantine put a bug in B’s ass about the Infinite Realms. 

But honestly, how bad could it be if three completely untrained teenagers could just hop in and out on a whim? 

Sure, there were risks. Some of the bigger, scarier ghosts that Tucker told him about. And just the air of the realms itself, which wasn’t great for humans in the long term. 

That, Tim was a little less sure about. Tucker could say it’d never done him any harm all he liked, but he was kinda half dead now. Dead enough for super powers. 

Not that Tim wanted super powers. It’s not like he’d ever needed them to keep up with his super friends. He didn’t need them, not even to interface his brain with his computer… 

Nope. 

But that was also how they got around to how Tucker would be getting home, because Tim finally twigged. 

“Wait… when you say Danny flew you here, you didn’t actually mean what you said about the plane, did you?” He asked cautiously when they’d migrated back to the bat cave (with a plate of cookies and juice. Alfred was totally taking advantage of a chance to feed Tim). 

Tucker grinned sheepishly and shrugged. 

“Well, I didn’t know Danny was gonna just go off like that right away. But yeah, he just came and grabbed me and we flew through the Ghost Zone.” 

He seemed to think Tim might be upset with him, but honestly? This was great news. They might be able to wrangle a little extra time. 

“So… needing to go home today was because of Danny?” He asked hopefully. 

Tucker caught on at once, like the genius he was, tracking Tim’s grin and beginning to smile in return. 

“Well, technically I do also have classes on Monday, but so long as I’m back tonight I can fake it if you have another way to get me home, like… say, a bat plane?” He asked innocently, head cocked to one side. 

Tim snatched up his phone, sending a quick text. Of course, there was always the chance Connor wouldn’t answer. Or that he’d be busy. Or that he’d have school. 

As if he wouldn’t have dropped pretty much anything when Tim called him. God Tim loved his boyfriend. 

“I was actually thinking of something a little more discrete than the bat plane… especially since you have some experience being carried.” 

————————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai

Next chapter:

[kenztheweirdmf]

Wdym you ship Peter x dc men?! Bro give me anything!! omg I don't wanna abuse your asks but now I'm just needing. In my most primal state I would ask you about Peter x batman and, x superman and, x nightwing and, x red hood (separately) but whatever bone you wanna throw me I'm happy speciallyifit'sdickorjason

BABY GIRL IF YOU WANNA ABUSE MY ASK THEN DO IT I DONT MIND XD OMG DONT GET ME STARTED ON PETER X BRUCE/CLARK/DICK/JASON GOD THEYRE SOO AUSHAUDBJKAND:LDAD THOSE 4 HAVE BIG PECS AND PETER IS TOTALLY A MAN BOOBS GUY TYPE and ofc Peter tops all 4 🤭 With Bruce, Peter would definitely be cuddling with him while Bruce is in a bathrobe and he has his face in his hairy pecs cus duh free pillows and also because Bruce smells so freaking good making him melt like a puddle and Bruce scratching Peters hair making him purr and kissing his forehead and Peter whines climbs up so he can get kisses on his lips and of course how can Brucie say no to his little spider and kisses it and Peter whimpers as he can feels Bruces stubble on his lips but god is he addicted for this man

With Clark i can see Peter hanging around in the farm but when he saw Clark doing farm work but thats not whats hes focusing at.... its what Clark is wearing and its overalls.... and nothing else hes going full on commando and god the way his cock even flaccid such makes a huge a bulge it makes Peters mouth salivate and dont even get him started on how Clark big hairy tits are practically out bouncing from every step he takes and his beefy hairy biceps is literally bigger than Peters whole head and yup......... Peter is down bad for this country boy

With Dick omg him and Peter would be such couple goals they have such a wholesome cute day to day life always helping each other in the kitchen cuddling in the couch while watching something but that doesnt mean Peter does not thirst for Him cus he always watches him hit the Gym always sweating and flexing his sweaty beefy body and Peter always thanks the universe everytime that he is dating THE Dick Richard Grayson

With Jason god he will treat Peter like a princess always calling him by cute petnames like "sweetheart, honey, baby and more" but the best part for Peter is having the privileged to see Jason shirtless while he works on his bike and my god is his chest developing some chest hair and god does it suit him and god whenever he lifts his arm to wipe off sweat on his head he sees how fucking hairy his armpits are and Peter just wanna bolt and stuff his face in there forever

So in conclusion MCU Peter is very shippable to any hunk even if its outside of their universe :3 AND GOD DO I STILL HAVE A LIST OF DC DADDIES I SHIP PETER WITH LIKE AQUMAN, GREEN ARROW, CONSTANTINE, KING SHARK, SLADE, COMMISSIONER GORDON, ALFRED, JOR-EL, THOMAS WAYNE AND MANY MORE MY BRAIN WONT STOP SHIPPING PETER WITH DADDY HUNKS dont SEND HELP

[momachan]

"Catastrophe, from start to finish. Inexcusable, stupid, bloody shameful catastrophe. No one to blame. I hold the smoking gun-- the accusatory fingers point my way. Still, we all make mistakes-- don't we? Even demons. The only difference is, I've paid for mine. Two years in Ravenscar Secure Facility for the Dangerously Deranged. We all paid. Anne-Marie took holy orders. Benjamin got his stutter. Lester got his junk habit. Ritchie went into computers. Judith went to work with abused children and Frank went off biking around the world. And, just as the demon promised, hell took them, everyone. But, like I say. We all make mistakes-- and the demon was finally telling me his name. Nergal. Nergal. This is where we started it and this is where it'll finish."

John Constantine, Hellblazer Vol. 2: The Devil You Know. "Newcastle: A Taste Of Things To Come."

[phoenixcatch7]

Looking at your SQQ transmigrating into Batman AU and I’m imagining Luo Binghe jumping into the DC world with a magical pendant or something that’s attuned to SQQ and is like “WHERE IS HE?!!” and then goes running about trying to find his husband regardless of the damage he’s causing, probably gets into a fight with the JL. SQQ comes on the scene and goes “Binghe!” And the raging demon who was just going toe to toe with Superman goes “SHIZUN 😭😭!!” and throws himself in SQQ’s arms, sobbing.

Asdfghjkl you read my mind that's EXACTLY how I imagined it XD! Like these people have gone toe to toe with trigon, the enchantress, etrigan, they know what a demon looks like and the kind of weight they can throw around like it's nothing. Protagonist lbh is no slouch in that category (especially when his husband is missing)! He's probably leaking dark red/black energy everywhere, eyes and demon mark glowing, reconstructed xin mo bleeding smoke and glowing along the cracks. He's throwing around the league with ease, unlike most of his weight class he's human sized which really limits their windows of attack, he heals faster than he takes damage, no one but the top powerhouses are even allowed out on the field. Not even Constantine knows who he is or where he came from.

And then batman (batman) is sprinting down the torn up street, hopping rubble and ducking flying cars, no jet or bike or specialised mech suit in sight, and he calls "BINGHE!"

Which must be some sort of magic spell for the way the demon freezes.

[starkandthewaynes]

Bengal & Lynx

Ch. 1

"Kyo, I think this final is gonna drive me insane." Lennox says to her cat, who looked at them and then just bit their laptop. "I know, you don't like it either." Lennox says as they get their phone out for a picture. They quickly took to Insta, but just shook their head.

Jason was right only 3 more days until Kyo and them were on a plane to Gotham City, New Jersey. They couldn't wait. Last time they had seen Jay, he hadn't died. When he did die, Bruce hadn't known what to do with Lennox so he shipped them off to boarding school in London, England. Yeah, that hadn't been a fun time for anyone. Dick had reached out several times, but it had turned into more of an annoyance than a help.

And when Jay did return to the land of the living, and re-joined the family, Lennox had also changed. They had always been able to see shades and ghosts, but when they moved to London, it had gotten worse, and this side of the pond the best person they could call was John Constantine. That had been a fun phone call.

"No way kid, I am not teaching you magic, I didn't even teach your brother, I ain't teaching you." John had said on the phone, but then they'd replied with; "Uncle Johnny, please, I keep seeing shit in the teacher's lounges. I need help." Who knew Johnathon Constantine, Hellblazer, Laughing Magician, Conman had a weak spot for kids who had supernatural gifts.

Lennox shook their head, thinking about the past was not going to help them study for their last final, or help them pack for summer. Luckily they didn't have to pack up the whole flat, Bruce had bought it for them. Nah, they were just heading to Gotham for the summer, before they came back for their senior year of college. Sure they were graduating early, but they had a plan for after school. They we're gonna help run the Bengel & Lynx foundation, a subject of the Martha Wayne Foundation that helped impoverished areas get help for local theatres and libraries. It's why they were triple majoring in Theatre, English, and business, while also minoring in art and history. Or They will once they pass these finals then two more semesters.

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Lennox was checking everything to make sure they had everything. Kyo was already in his little bag ready for the flight. He was so cute and ready. They took a picture. They couldn't help it, their Instagram page was practically dedicated to Kyo, at this point they really should just make it his page, but then all the press would get uppity. The only bad thing about having Wayne attached to Pierce was the press.

Lennox laughed. They had met Steph when she, Duke, and Cas had come over to London with Tim on a business trip. Or at least that was the official public story. The real reason was Spoiler, Orphan, and Signal had a joint case. It was still a fun trip where Lennox had gotten to meet their older sister and younger brother and pseudo sister.

Lennox took a cab to the airport, just because their family had money doesn't mean they needed to use the private jet. As soon as they were through security and on the plane, they could finally relax. They pulled out an old warn copy of Treasure Island, a comfort story.

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Lennox liked Jay's, duke's and Tim's tweets as they picked up their bags, and looked around for Jason. They heard a loud engine and saw a pretty badass bike show up. They driver skided into park, got off and held up a sign. Lennox couldn't help but cackle as they read it. In Jason's chicken scratch blown up were the word's "Welcome Home, Lynx!" They loved and missed their twin so much. They couldn't help it when they ran into his arms. "Bengal!" They shrieked as hepicked them up, careful of Kyo, and spun them around. "I missed you so much, Lynx." He whispers as the two just stand in one another's presence. "By the way, do you know how to ride a bike?" Jay asks, grabbing their bags. They chuckle. "Yeah, Bengal, I know how to ride a bike; Dickie made sure of it." So did working with Cinstantine, made for quick getaways. Lennox adds in their head. "Right." He says, handing them a spare helmet.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"You totally forgot Bruce had all of us on twitter, didn't you?" Lennox asks, Jay, Dick and them are in the family room. "I tried getting him to stop, but he was being Jason." Dick whines, as three of the oldest Waynes sigh. "How long you think we got?" Lennox asks, as Dick looks at his watch. "Well, Bruce tweeted that 30 seconds ago, so I think we got probably-" "Twins! Dick! Study now!" "Now, we got until now." Dick sighs, getting up. On the way there they passed by the others, who were snickering. They weren't in trouble.

"You three wanna tell me something?" Bruce asks, as the three kids rock back and forth on their toes. "I'm graduating next winter?" Lennox tries, as the three men stare at Lennox. "You have been working hard huh?" Jay asks as they shrug. "Got myself a plan Bengal, and Tim's been helping me get a jump start." Lennox says, as Bruce nods. "I wanna hear when we're done here, Lynx." Jay says as Lennox nods. "

Yes, well, firstly I wanna know how old you all were." Bruce says as Lennox smiles. "Well, Bengal and I weren't here that's for sure." Lennox says as Jay turns wide eyed. "What are you doing?" He hisses as Lennox just smiles. "What?" Bruce asks, as Lennox nods. "Yeah, it's what happens when you grow up in the Alley, cigs are just apart of the ambiance. So yeah, Jay bought us our first pack three days before you picked us up, we we're celebrating that we had gotten ourselves a job." Lennox says as Bruce stiffens up, just like Lennox knew he would. Bruce doesn't like to be reminded of how hard some of his kids have had it. They walk out of the study, and all their siblings are staring. "Check Twitter." Is all Dick says

Yes this is another new batfam smau I need to spice things up sometimes leave everyone on their toes (PS if you saw this earlier no you didn't)

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Masterlist

[theenemyod]

Jericho: I asked you to make things better and you just made them worse, as usual

Constantine: Yeah, yeah. Just like when we were kids, it's always my fault! "He didn't do the dishes!" "He left my bike out!" "He reanimated my dead gerbil and now it's a monster!"