#Danny is Ra’s eldest son | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yetanothergreyjedi · 2 years ago

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Ghosts of Our Pasts: pt 12

DP x DC crossover

Damian Wayne and Danny Fenton Sibling AU

Ao3

Masterpost Previous

---

Mistakes a Mother Shouldn't Make

Oh Dears, you didn't think I was going to immediately tell you what's happening with Danny and Dami, did you? Sorry not sorry

---

Talia was looking for her children. They hadn't appeared yet this morning, which meant they were likely finding mischief. Fine as long as they weren't late for lessons, fine as long as it did not intrude on anything of importance.

It was too early for training, yet they were not in their beds and the halls were quiet. She had been searching for several minutes and still no trace of them. Not that that was particularly alarming, children trained for stealth tended to be skilled at it. They had the advantage of their size and the fact that most did not look down when anticipating threats. Add to the fact that they knew the methods for changing the guard and they could disappear as effectively as any assassin.

Her guards had not seen them. They had not come when she called. She hoped they hadn't fallen asleep in a crawl space again, it might be hours before they woke and realized they needed to return, and Father had been keeping a close eye lately. Dany was already in a dangerous position, if he believed her eldest was stunting Damian's potential...

She was worried about Danyal. He was growing... unsettled. His progress had stagnated for seemingly no reason, and it wasn't out of limitation. She knew what Dany looked like when he'd reached his limits, when he'd reached past them. This felt deliberate. Of course she had no way to prove he'd been aiming off center, or that he'd misstepped on purpose, or that he failed to see an opening he'd see without fail every single time they'd tested it last year.

Ras was not close enough to see the choice. This was a good thing. She did not know what punishment would exist for her son if her Father knew.

Then there were the pranks.

If this was truly the height of Danyal's progress, Ras would find it disappointing, but the League would still have gained from it. But Disloyalty? That would not stand.

Perhaps it was time, she had always considered sending her sons to her Beloved. Part of her loathed the choice. Bruce would not encourage loyalty to the league and his presence held the very real threat of defection. But if Danyal had already made that decision...

Then her beloved was the only one who could save him.

This was the last thought before the wall clicked. She had her weapon drawn before she processed the opening, the passage. She hadn’t known this one existed. Seams she had never recognized opened into a door, and out stepped her youngest.

She registered the blood and dust and tear tracks down his face before any true thoughts could form.

1.) Check behind him. No threats made themselves immediately known. Nothing in the secret hall, no footsteps giving chase.

2.) She knelt, quickly scanning Damian for injuries. Nothing immediately visible.

"Are you hurt?" She demanded.

Damian hiccuped another sob, but shook his head. What he did say, however, was, "D-dany,"

If her blood was cold before, now it was liquid nitrogen. "Damian, where is your akhi?"

---

Maddie couldn't remember the last time her cooking had made herself this sick.

Between Jazz recognizing when something was too far gone, the food coming to life then escaping, and her own iron stomach, the last actual case of food poisoning hadn't been since the portal. This being the thing that caused it... it didn't make sense.

The meal had been prepared with fresh foods, smelled delicious, and had not a hint of undead twitching. There was only one thing that could've caused it, one that didn't by any accounts make sense.

Ectouranium, despite its frightening name, was perfectly safe for human consumption. Should've been perfectly safe for them. Yet here she was, standing over the toilet just like Jack had done an hour ago.

Hoping the worst had passed, she rinsed her mouth from the sink. The water had the ever so slight taste of electrified old pennies, and Maddie knew why her attempts to decontaminate the kitchen had failed; because even the tap water tasted like ectoplasm, and she suddenly craved it. She flushed the toilet with a sigh, she should've known. Of course they were too contaminated for a simple fix, Danny had been registering as a ghost on every scanner—Danny.

Danny had eaten dinner with them.

She practically flew down the stairs to a star dappled bedroom, empty. And that wasn't surprising, she could only hope that he hadn't decided to disappear again tonight.

She checked the bathroom next. Its door was still ajar. The relief she felt that he had stayed home was squashed by the way Danny huddled on the floor. He was gasping for air in short pained starts, pressed into the corner where the wall met the tub as if trying to melt into it.

"Danny!" She ran to him, and her heart broke as he tried to shuffle away from her despite the fact that there was nowhere to go. Instincts from his past or something else, she didn't know. It didn't matter, the movement turned ragged breathing into deep chest coughs that had Maddie reaching to call an ambulance before she saw the blood.

But her phone wasn't here, it was still plugged in on the bedside table where she'd left it. And Jack would be asleep with his earmuffs and—

"Mom?" A bleary-eyed Jazz said, "what are you..."

"Jazz, call an ambulance!"

---

Talia stalked through passages she only half knew. She was equal parts proud and dismayed that the trail the boys had left was so subtle. She was equal parts relieved and terrified that the unused halls were too dusty to leave no trace. She moved as quickly as she dared, unwilling to misread the subtle signs.

Until the signs were less subtle. Her eldest's struggle was painted clear crimson for a hallway, and then it stopped. And it was clear what had happened, even if the illuminating green had faded like a dull cracked glowstick.

Dany was no longer in danger of that death, but the deaths that would no doubt follow behind her were still as real as before. There were six drying bootprints before her son had realized and taken measures to prevent them. Thus Danyal's mind was clear. Good, even if the trail became harder to follow. Not perfect, the hard stone became dirt and hiding footprints was nearly impossible. He'd doubled back at least twice, intentionally or because he'd taken a wrong turn?

Pride and betrayal and fear and hope all swirled in her heart but now was not the time to dwell on them.

The end of the tunnels came and went, the wilderness stretched in front of her until it gave way to civilization and the trail went cold. Perhaps she did not check all the places a child could hide that an adult could. Perhaps she overlooked a camera's blindspot.

She had no way of knowing if the assassins her father sent would know to not to do the same.

She did not find her son.

No one told her if anyone else had either.

---

Maddie cradled her son in her arms, encouraging him to keep fighting for breath. Jazz had disappeared a moment, an eternity, exactly fifty three stuttering wet gasps and 5 lung tearing coughs ago.

Then she returned, not talking urgently with an operator, but holding a beaker full of electric green-white.

"Jazz, no."

"It is not poison for the dying, or the dead." Her daughter quotes her son.

"It's still—"

Jazz silences her with a glare, her eyes reflect the eerie light. She doesn't need to say it, Maddie knows that it's Jazz who's memorized Danny's contingency plans, who knows his rules for when the hospital is and isn't an acceptable risk.

"Okay," Maddie shifts to let Jazz take her place by Danny's side. She tips the glass and he drinks what should be poison.

He improves but does not heal and Maddie tells Jazz why. That this amount of ectoplasm can only counter ectouranium so far, that she had forgotten that the 'contamination' was what kept her youngest alive.

Jazz did not lecture her this time, it felt worse than when she did.

They brought Danny down to the lab and Jazz sat them down next to the open portal. It was a chill down her spine and an ache in her bones but neither of her children seemed to fear it, and she would not leave them now.

Danny's breathing had gone quieter after the ectoplasm, so she hadn’t exactly noticed when it stopped. He turned and looked at her with eyes that were not reflecting the portal. How many times had she tricked herself into believing they were?

"Danny?"

"Mom," He breathed in after saying the word, but did not exhale. She wasn't sure he needed too.

"I'm sorry," She whispered.

He huffed a laugh, "Not the first time I've been poisoned,"

Jazz facepalmed behind him.

"For more than that," Maddie said, because Danny had never seemed less human than this moment, and she couldn't apologize and ask at the same time.

He dropped his head on her shoulder, he was cold as ice, but Jazz was at his other side and would've said something if it was a problem.

"Just don't do it again," he requests, meaning more than just adding things to her cooking.

"I won't," Maddie promised, and felt the weight of something binding in her own words. It wouldn’t matter. She intended to keep her word.

So perhaps the FentonWorks ghost security was dismantled and destroyed by the end of the week. Perhaps symbols drawn by teenagers proved more effective. Perhaps their son would sometimes pass through the front door instead of opening it.

Some questions don't need to be asked.

Some questions shouldn't be.

---

Talia was often grateful that her son was a public figure. It meant that instead of wasting manpower on a subtle check up, (and that would be made more complicated of course, her beloved would not allow it), all she had to do was a quick search of his name to find out anything the public might know.

It wasn’t always enough to feel comfortable, particularly when Robin was reported to be injured, but it was far better than if the Wayne's had been just another face in the crowd.

Drama was the usual, but she was surprised to see some of it focusing on Damian instead of the other family members... Apparently someone had run from him, he had given chase and the details devolved into theories from there. It didn't sound like something Damian would do in her opinion, but with every passing year the Damian she remembered existed less and less.

She scrolled through the comments wondering if they had simply misattributed the action of one of the others. Damian running through the streets shouting after them? Her son would know better ways than that. But then her eyes fell onto another comment.

"I saw him," The person with a pink cat for a profile picture said. "He was yelling 'Daniel'."

The world seemed to stop. Not Daniel, Damian had been yelling after Danyal.

Notes:

There are a lot of reasons you shouldn't train small children as assassins, most of those reasons are ethical. But I'm stuck on the idea of giving stealth training to small children… bring them into one(1) department store and POOF they gone!

Tag list pt1

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @mur-ururu @luer-mirin @insufferablecatenthusiast @skulld3mort-1fan @alonedustspeck @voidbornposts @meira-3919 @marshmello @aethernorwood @mimilikey @undead-essence @cloudminder @markus209 @everything163 @latheevening226 @roman4517 @moobloomrights @battybatbat @lumosfeather18581 @werv @ahyesanerd @pyramaniac @lexdamo @princessbelix @bun-fish @deeannthepan @edgyboi10000 @thatrandomsarahchick @busterkeel @aconitewolfsbane @spoopyspoony @bright-shade @spidey29phangirl @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @keimiwolf @u-a-wizard-jamie @gay-puff @bicerise @itshype @blackfoxsposts @icanneverdecide @lolottes @chubbypotato @jovialherringtacoghost @saltyladynightmare

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avaritia-apotheosis · 1 year ago

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+ The bonus notes (because I like to point out various things I did/reference/learned/want to share when writing these chapters)

"He certainly didn’t ask to half-die not once, but twice[...]" - This refers to when recreated the portal accident again in Memory Blank. Not one of her finest moments in the series ＞︿＜

Dusan al Ghul - The eldest son of Ra's al Ghul, he was rejected by his father for being an albino and had spent the majority of his life trying to prove himself to his father. He's also at one point been known as "The White Ghost." His and Talia's appearances in this fic are similar to how they appear in the Son of Batman movie.

"he couldn’t figure out where the jungle stopped and the house began[...]" - A joke my dad tells my mom when she started to fill our house to the brim with house plants.

The necklace: It was a gift given from Bruce to Talia during the events of Batman: Son of the Demon, and the only keepsake Talia gave to their unnamed son when she put him up for adoption. The inscription inside, however, is just something I made up.

The symptoms of Danny's 'mania' - funnily enough, some of the symptoms that I gave Danny (the chills, the nausea) were symptoms that I was experiencing at around the same time. I had no idea why I felt off until I ended up testing positive for COVID ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It was a very mild case though.

Habibi - an arabic word that literally means "my love" though can also be translated as "my dear," "my darling," or "my beloved." Used as a term of endearment for friends, family members, or significant others.

Danyal - an arabic variation of the name Daniel.

Phantom Children: Redux | I. In Lieu of Flowers

Starting off my crossposting journey with PC:R <3

There is no Clockwork there to rewind time after the Nasty Burger explosion. Danny Fenton, having witnessed his friends and family die a fiery death, struggles to cope with his loss and the looming future that awaits him. So when an unlikely source offers a hand to help, he takes it. Three years later, Batman is called upon to help solve a string of impossible murders in Gotham that end up entangling him to the mysteries of Amity Park. -- A Rewrite of Phantom Children ft. A shiny new plot, longer chapters, and stronger prose!

A DPxDC crossover // Read on [AO3} or [FFN.net]

MASTERPOST // Next Chapter →

Three Years Ago…

Danny Fenton was fourteen when his world ended for the third time.

And no, this wasn’t the product of teenage melodrama. Rather it’s the result of the universe’s spirited efforts in making Danny’s life a veritable punching bag for any deity to come over and fuck it up .

He certainly didn’t ask to half-die not once, but twice , and be responsible for this godforsaken town. That’s a thing heroes do. Or sidekicks that train under heroes. Not some dumb kid barely halfway through his first semester of high school and who was incapable of keeping his grades higher than a C .

But, well, this was what he got for playing hero, right? Dead parents, dead sister, and dead friends, all because he was too goddamn slow .

(The prerequisite to every hero: a tragic backstory. Guess it was finally his turn.)

The weather went from a light mist to a drizzle, raindrops falling in uneven staccato on the cluster of black umbrellas. He could barely hear the ceremony— not that he was able to pay much attention anyway. Danny tried to. He did. But his mind was a blue screen— had been for the past few weeks—and the preacher’s words were just going in one ear and out the other in loud static.

His fingers curled around the velvet pouch in his pocket, grounding himself. He’d dug it out from its lockbox in the depths of his closet for this exact reason.

In front of Danny was a single plot reserved for the Fenton family, the grass undisturbed except for the muddy dirt and drooping flowers around the erected marble obelisk that stood atop the plot. (Undisturbed because there wasn’t any need to dig up the ground for a coffin. You’d need bodies for that, and there were hardly any left after—) At the obelisk’s base was a bronze placard engraved with the names of three of the people who once comprised Danny's whole world, and an epitaph: Gone but Never Forgotten.

Vlad must have chosen it. The obelisk was his decision too; excessive and grand because he would provide nothing less for his greatest enemy, his greatest love, and their wonderful, genius, perfect daughter.

Danny looked away from the monument, his hair a damp curtain that shadowed his eyes. No mom left to brush it out of the way. No dad to ruffle it into something even messier. There’s a— a pressure at the back of his throat that nauseated him to the point of discomfort but not enough to actually vomit in the nearest shrubbery. He rubbed his scratchy throat with his free hand, letting it rest by his clavicle. Right above where his heart was being mercilessly squeezed by his own guilty conscience.

He should have been the one to plan his family’s funeral. The one to write their obituary. The one to choose the headstone. The flowers. The date. Everything. It was his responsibility. His duty to make all these decisions as the—

Danny bit the inside of his lip.

He should have been more responsible. Should have been— oh he didn't know— there when all the decisions were made instead of holing up in a corner of the Zone and letting Vlad take care of it all. God, what kind of son was he to have the audacity to get his family killed and foist off arranging the funeral to the guy who wanted to kill his dad .

But maybe that was better. Leaving the decision-making to someone else, that is. God knows that Danny makes all the wrong choices.

(If only he was faster he was stronger he saved his family before going after his evil future selfhe gave back the test answers sooner that boiler never overheated.)

The hand on his shoulder nearly made Danny jump out of his skin.

He shifted his umbrella to see his aunt Alicia looking down at him, concern and pity softening her usually stoic features. Vlad flew her in from Spittoon. When? Danny didn’t know, though somewhere in his foggy memories he might have recalled Vlad asking how to reach Danny’s relatives. It was only aunt Alicia who came in the end, though. His mom and aunt Alicia never liked to talk about their parents, and his dad was an only child who was far too estranged from his own.

“Ceremony’s over, kid. You okay?”

He’d scoff, but he didn’t want to tempt his nausea.

“I’ll live.” He winced, the words bitter on his tongue. “I’m fine, I mean.”

Aunt Alicia pressed her lips into a thin, flat line. “The rain’s getting a little worse. Do you want to head back home?”

Home? Where even was that anymore?

“I think I wanna stay out here for now.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No— I just…I want to be alone, I think.”

She sighed, giving a comforting squeeze to his shoulder before dropping her hand. “Alright. I’ll just be waiting for you in the car then.”

Danny nodded absentmindedly, gaze trained on the drooping white lilies by the placard. At the corner of his eye, he saw Vlad approach aunt Alicia, somber-faced but calculating as they headed to the car.

The future he tried to escape was already playing out. Pieces slotting into place like some jigsaw puzzle of doom.

In his quiet moments, holed up in the corner of his parents’ room, he’d ponder the what-ifs. The should-have, could-have, would-have-beens. He’d think of the future in all its terrible glory and wonder where else it could have all gone wrong. The trigger was—surprise, surprise— Vlad. Or, living with him, that is. If he wanted to put an ounce of trust in that sob story future-Vlad spun, then it was Danny’s own grief coupled with Vlad’s invention that sent the world spinning into its destruction.

(Future-Vlad might have helped him. Might have turned over a new leaf. But there was an entire decade that separated Future-Vlad from the present- Vlad. And Danny would rather cut off his own arm than trust present-Vlad with anything related to Danny’s well-being.)

Danny knew jack shit about the adoption process, but he was 80% sure most social workers would place Danny with his aunt as opposed to his parents’ old college buddy that they recently connected with. That Danny ended up living with Vlad meant that either Aunt Alicia didn’t pass whatever assessment the state required, or Vlad used his influence to tip the scales in his favor. Probably both.

So the law would never let him live with anyone but Vlad— the fruit loop would make sure of that. Danny’s only option left was to run away, then.

Hm. How long could one half-dead fourteen-year-old realistically outrun a half-dead crazy billionaire with enough connections in both the human world and the Ghost Zone?

Survey says—

Fuck .

“Our condolences, Daniel.”

Danny startled. Who the—

He tilted his head the other way, shifting his focus to the woman who just appeared next to him. Sure Danny found his own attention slipping into darker places more often than not these days, but he should have noticed if someone came near him.

No, wait. Aunt Alicia managed to sneak up on him earlier. Maybe Danny really was just out of it.

“The doctors Fenton did brilliant work, and your sister had such a bright future ahead of her. Their loss will be felt.”

“Thank you,” Danny answered. The words are still ash on his tongue but he didn’t stumble over them anymore. “I…appreciate your support.”

The woman was tall, with a wiry physique and cool tawny skin. She had an oval face, a straight nose, and sharp features, though much of it was slightly obscured by her hat, the black netting ending just past her nose. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her long black coat.

The man—and Danny knew he’d seen him somewhere before, it was on the tip of his tongue—shared in the similar sharp characteristics, but his coloring was a lot lighter. He had long white hair that extended past his shoulders and a long horseshoe mustache that should have looked stupid, but somehow he managed to make it work. He held a single umbrella for both himself and the woman.

His mind clicked. Recognition alight on his face.

“Mr. Dusan?”

Dusan smiled. “I am pleased that you still remember me, Daniel.”

Mr. Dusan, if Danny remembered correctly, was his parents’ liaison with their benefactor. The CEO of some sort of big research company whose name Danny never really bothered to pay attention to. They had been funding his parents’ research since their university days, and it was because of them that the Fentons managed to get their hands on enough samples of ectoplasm to experiment and research on. Mr. Dusan would be sent every once in a while to observe his parents’ studies, much to the Fenton family’s stress and delight. His visits would be preceded with days of cleaning the house from top to bottom and Danny’s parents frantically getting their stuff organized. But a good visit from Mr. Dusan always ended with the family going out for a nice dinner the day after.

It was one of Danny’s favorite times, really.

“Just Danny, please.”

“Danny, then,” Dusan said. “May I introduce you to my sister, Talia al Ghul?”

Sister? Danny raised his hand for a handshake, deciding not to comment on the age difference. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m, uh, sorry it’s not during better circumstances.”

Talia shook his hand with a closed-lipped, but somber smile. “Our employer—your parents’ benefactor—actually sent us to give his condolences, and to extend a helping hand if you should ever need it.”

“What?”

“Your parents were pioneers, Danny. Their research changed the face of the world as we know it despite how much they were ridiculed for it. It would be remiss of their benefactor to simply leave their legacy, their only son, alone to the wolves.” Her voice was smooth and honey-sweet, and Danny felt compelled to listen. “If you need anything, anything at all, feel free to reach out to us.”

She handed him a business card. It was crisp, made from thick card stock. Blank except for a single number in the middle.

Danny turned it over in his hand. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

He tucked it into his pocket. “Thank you for your offer. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“We will be in town for the next few days,” Dusan said. “We hope to hear from you soon.”

◆◆◆

Later, aunt Alicia asked if Danny would rather stay with her at the hotel. She’d ask this every time they parted ways, and each time Danny would say no, thank you.

She didn’t push too much. Knew, probably, that it was only a matter of time that Danny would have to leave his house to live…wherever it was his social worker decided to stick him in.

Danny appreciated her concern— even if he would rather do without it.

He slipped off his black suit jacket, throwing it over the back of the couch as he walked past the living room. His mom would throw a fit at that. He scrambled down to the lab, taking the steps two at a time, hands wrenching the tie from around his neck—and god fuck why did his skin feel so hot. The tie ended up somewhere on the steps, the velvet bag safely stowed away in a drawer full of blueprints. He kicked off his stupid dress shoes. A safety hazard, his dad would say. The lab floor needed to be clear at all times to prevent an accident.

Too fucking late for that.

White rings passed through him with blinding fury as Danny burst through the portal between dimensions and into the silence of the Ghost Zone.

He floated. Aimless.

And breathed.

◆◆◆

Danny picked a direction. Eenie-meenie-minie-moe . It’s no use trying to logic out directions in the Ghost Zone. Not when the islands thought of physics as nothing more than a joke. He set off north-north-west of the portal and tried his luck there.

Tucker and Sam would call him stupid. There were probably a billion-and-one better ways to find Clockwork’s stupid tower than this.

Jazz would say he’s still stuck on the bargaining stage—

Jazz can’t say anything anymore.

None of them can.

◆◆◆

Jessica Andrews, his social worker, took him out to a quiet cafe to talk. She was a tall woman with a stocky frame, brown skin, and a soft rounded face. Her nails were painted a light green; it was to match her plants, she’d say. Once, she’d told him about how her husband would complain about all the plants she bought because he couldn’t figure out where the jungle stopped and the house began.

The cafe was far enough away from most schools and built below some bible store, its facade made from faded red brick with a charcoal gray awning. A few circular tables and chairs were laid out front, though they sat empty. The weather had been everything but gloomy for the past few days.

Jessica clasped her hands over the table, green nails tap-tap-tapping against her knuckles. “How have you been holding up, Danny?”

They’re seated by the giant window, though there wasn’t much to look at on the other side. Just the road and more old buildings on the other side.

“‘M fine.”

“That’s wonderful.” She could tell that he was lying; he’d bet on it. “How has your sleep been?”

Danny pointedly drank his coffee— brewed as dark as he could with as many espresso shots he could manage to order without the barista giving him a strange look. “Fine.”

She raised an eyebrow. “The black holes under your eyes beg to differ.”

“I’d rather skip all this small talk if that’s ok.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want.” She brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. “I promised you early on that I’d keep you informed of how the courts are handling your case.”

He huffed, sinking into his chair. He already knew the outcome. “They decide where to stick me yet?”

“They’re still doing their due diligence and contacting as many of your adult relatives as possible in order to find a suitable guardian.”

“I’m sensing some sort of catch here.”

“The people looking over your case have considered your request to be placed with your aunt Alicia.”

“They said no.”

“They had some…concerns,” she said. “Your aunt’s residence is very isolated, which might prevent you from getting the proper help you need. There were also some concerns about how you would handle a sudden dramatic shift in lifestyles, what with being moved away from your school, your community, your peers, into someplace extremely unfamiliar.”

Danny leveled a look at her. “There’s something else, too, isn’t there.”

Jessica gave him a look of pity. “Your aunt also expressed some…hesitancy in taking you in when we talked with her.”

His breath caught. Teeth gnawed at the inside of his lip. Fuck. He rubbed the back of his neck, slowly inching it up to tug at the back of his hair, the other hand curling into a fist beneath the table. Fuck—

He knew he knew this would happen but he still—

—Can’t believe that he held onto that—

—What was he thinking?

“Danny?”

Fingernails dug crescents into the inside of his palm. He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. Don’t— I’m fine. It’s fine.”

He shivered.

Dan’s laughter echoed from the back of his skull, mocking him. It’s inevitable, Dan crowed. I am inevitable. You can’t stop the future any more than you could stop the sun from rising.

◆◆◆

Clockwork’s tower was nowhere to be found. Danny didn’t know why he kept on searching. Sheer stubbornness, maybe. Some foolish hope beyond all hope that if he begged hard enough, Clockwork would be willing to do him a favor and rewind time back to when everything made sense.

Sometimes Danny doesn’t even go to the Ghost Zone to find him.

Sometimes he’ll just find some patch of the Zone with enough floating rocks and scream. Scream until his voice is hoarse and he could no longer sustain his ghost form. Until the rocks are nothing but pebbles floating in the green void. Until all that’s left is the freezing cold inside of him.

The ghosts had been staying away from Amity Park.

Good.

He didn’t know what he would do if any of them showed up now.

Danny woke up with his skin freezing-on-fire-cold-too-cold-he-can’t-stop-sweating. He didn’t remember calling anyone, but he must have, considering that someone showed up in his room with a bowl of chicken soup and a glass of Gatorade.

He should’ve been more alarmed at this— there was a stranger in his house. But right now his head was begging to be smashed in with a hammer and he’s just glad that he was not alone.

“Do you think you could sit up and eat, Danny?” The figure sat down at the edge of his bed, one hand on top of the blanket cocoon he made for himself. A woman. An accent that was definitely not American. British, maybe? Either way, not aunt Alicia.

His stomach rumbled. At least this time it didn’t feel like throwing up everything. Danny pushed himself up with aching slowness, leaning back against the headboard. Bleariness blinked away from his eyes, he saw his caretaker’s features more clearly. It was—it started with a T. Tania? Tasnia? No, Talia was the name. Mr. Dusan’s sister.

“Ms. al Ghul? What are you doing here?”

“You don’t remember?” She sets the bowl down on his bedside table, in easy reach, and hands him the glass. “You called the number Dusan and I gave to you sounding delirious. We were worried but Dusan had some pressing business to attend to, so I came on my own.”

“Oh.” The drink was heaven to his parched throat. “How did you get inside?”

Her eyes—a unique shade of green—sparkled with mirth. “I have my ways.”

“Oh-kay .” He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “Thank you. For coming all this way, I mean. You really shouldn’t have to come and take care of some kid you just met.”

“Nonsense, Danny. I could hardly leave you alone in such conditions, it would be against my instincts as a mother.”

“You have kids?”

“I have one,” she said, then paused as if contemplating something. “No, I had two.”

Danny bit the inside of his cheek, thumb wiping away the condensation on the surface of his now empty glass. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Talia let out a sad sort of chuckle. “Thank you, though it’s not needed. He’s— my eldest son—isn’t dead. Certain circumstances forced me into the position to give him up for adoption. He’s alive and well, hopefully, though he probably doesn’t know that I exist.”

Oh. Danny didn’t know what to say to that.

“You didn’t try to get into contact with him?”

“What would be the point? He has his own parents now, a life free of complications. The best I could hope for was that he kept the memento I gave him.”

“A memento?”

“A necklace.”

Danny stilled.

It was stupid. Foolish even, to think about it. There are like over seven billion people in the world.

“What kind of necklace, if you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

Talia smiled, eyes glazed as if in memory. “It was a present from his father. A beautiful work of art, it was. It was a sapphire necklace— with two rows of sapphires, to be exact, cut in perfect circles and polished to a shine.”

The velvet bag Danny had tucked beneath his pillow burned at the back of Danny’s mind. It can’t be. That was too much of a coincidence.

“Each sapphire was surrounded by gold, though there were small diamonds that surrounded the larger sapphires.”

Oh god, oh god. What was his life?

“Though beautiful, my favorite part of it had to be what was within the middle sapphire. It was possible to open it, you see. And engraved inside were the words—”

“‘ For the greatest happiness you have given me.’”

Talia looked at him, green eyes wide. “How did you know?”

Danny found himself unable to look at her. Gingerly, he set his glass bedside table, next to his cooling bowl of chicken soup, and retrieved the velvet pouch beneath his pillow. He held the bag to her, almost reluctantly, but relinquished it once it was in her grip.

Talia opened the bag and drew out a necklace. Two rows of sapphires inlaid in gold, with the largest ones surrounded by tiny diamonds. It was beautiful, though perhaps it no longer shone as it once did.

She beheld it in silence, fingers tracing the exquisite craftsmanship as if, at first, in disbelief, then in reverence. She stopped at the large sapphire on the bottom row.

After a moment, she opened it.

“My parents told me I was adopted when I was six,” Danny said, unable to take the silence any longer. He tangled his fingers together, clasping and unclasping them. “They gave me that necklace— said it was from my birth mother. They never knew who she was, and the orphanage they got me from had no information either.”

Tucker and Sam once asked him if he ever wanted to know who his birth mother was. Danny wasn’t sure what he wanted, really. Sometimes he wondered about it, but he was content with not knowing for the most part. His parents were his parents, blood relation or no, and he looked similar enough to Jack Fenton in coloring that most people didn’t question why his skin wasn’t as light as theirs, or why his features were a lot sharper than theirs.

(Tucker and Sam never knew about the necklace. It was hard to explain why he never told them considering he’d tell them just about anything else— but it was different. It was…something just for him. A cold comfort in knowing that, at one point, he was someone’s ‘greatest happiness.’)

He coughed into his elbow, a shiver racking his spine.

Warm arms enveloped him into a hug.

“ It’s you, ” Talia whispered. “ It’s you.”

Something inside Danny seemed to click back into place. His core thrummed gently, humming a litany of feelings and words he couldn’t translate. Some are apprehensive. Others are confused. But most of all it felt…happy.

Warm.

◆◆◆

“You know that I’m adopted, right?” Danny said to Mrs. Andrews when they met up again. It was a park this time; she was really adamant about getting him out of his house.

“I am aware, yes.”

“When you mentioned that all my relatives would be identified and informed… does my biological mother count too?”

Mrs. Andrews exhaled between her teeth. “I know what you’re asking about, but I’m afraid it isn’t an option. In adoption cases like yours, the biological parents usually relinquish all parental rights over the child. Even if we did find your biological mother, the court would never let her have custody over you again.”

He shivered, pulling his jacket closer around him, and wondered why he still put so much faith in the legal system.

◆◆◆

It was only a matter of time before Vlad came to visit him once again.

“What do you want, Vlad .”

The black bags beneath Vlad’s eyes were the only thing unkempt about his otherwise neat appearance. Mourning or not, his smile still made Danny’s fist itch to punch it. “Why, little badger, can I not see how the son of my oldest friends is doing?”

“I’m not living with you, you fruit loop.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. “Really, Daniel, this disinclination of yours is getting tiring. Just accept it and the moving process will be much, much easier.”

Danny glared at him, green eyes livid. His teeth bared and gnashing. “I’d rather die than live with you.”

“Well, you’re already halfway there. Need help finishing the job?”

He swung his fist at him, but Vlad caught it with ease. “Get out of my house!”

“There’s no use in being difficult, now. You know as well as I do that the courts will inevitably choose me .”

( Inevitable, Dan had said. Inevitable inevitable inevitable.)

“Shut up.” Danny seethed. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

As he tore his hand away from Vlad’s grip, a spark of power burst in between them in a blinding white light and bitter cold. Vlad threw up a shield, but Danny was too caught off guard. He was blasted back, knees hitting the armrest on the couch and nearly making him stumble. When the light cleared, Danny could see swathes of crystalline ice and frost embedded in the middle of the living room.

Frost had crept up Vlad’s shield, coating it in a thin wall of ice which broke the second Vlad released the barrier. Vlad looked down at the ice, face flashing between surprise, confusion, awe, before settling into a patronizing smile.

“Do you see now?” Vlad said, gesturing to the ice. “This is why I’m the only one suitable to be your guardian. I am the only one that can understand you. That knows your needs as a young half-ghost. That can guide you and teach you.”

A bitter cold shook Danny’s body to the core, frost seeping into his bones and the bite of winter in his lungs. A thin layer of frost coated his palms and fingertips. His face is flushed. He feels hot but the shivers won’t stop.

Vlad approached, arms opened wide like he’s approaching some scared animal. Like a little badger.

Danny hissed at him, scrambling to his feet to place the couch between them.

“Come on, Daniel, just let me take care of you.”

“Go to hell, Vlad!”

“Tch.” Vlad dropped his hands, fingers dragging through his hair in exasperation. “Fine. You know what, fine. Have it your way. Perhaps some time experiencing the mania will help you understand my meaning.” He went to the door with a frustrating degree of calm. His suit cleanly pressed, not a strand misplaced in his hair, a total contrast to Danny who felt seconds away from collapsing on the floor.

“Do try to keep a hold of yourself, though,” Vlad said over his shoulder. “Your parents might be dead, but they are hardly the only ghost hunters around.”

He slammed the door shut.

Danny sank to his knees, arms wrapped around himself as he vigorously tried to rub his skin warm. What was wrong with him?

Was his sickness a few days ago related to this? He thought he just caught some sort of bug, or, or it was the stress of it all affecting his body, but the ice—

This wasn’t a normal sickness.

Vlad called it a mania. What did that mean?

He shook his head, arm reaching for the back of the couch and hauling himself up. Figuring out Vlad’s words wasn’t his biggest concern; right now, Danny needed a way to get rid of this ice. Talia and Mr. Dusan were coming over soon to go over his parents’ research, he needed to—

They can’t figure out that he’s—

Danny stumbled down to the lab, frantically looking for any of his parents’ inventions that could help get rid of the ice.

No. No. Not that. Not that either.

His arm suddenly went intangible, slipping through the lab bench. The sudden momentum made him lose balance and he hit his head on the side of the bench. He staggered upright, rubbing his pounding head. What was wrong with his powers? They hadn’t been this out of whack since he’d first gotten them in the accident.

A violent shiver ran through him, his breath coming out in a cold mist. Frost had begun to creep outwards from the soles of his shoes.

Danny stepped back. The frost followed.

His eyes darted around the room, mind racing for a solution. His frenzied gaze landed on the ghost portal, the entrance sealed shut by the heavy metal doors. Tucker once said that he noticed that Danny seemed to recover energy faster when he was in the Ghost Zone. They’d tested it at one point by letting the Box Ghost loose on the town and seeing how much energy Danny could recover if he rested in the material world versus the Ghost Zone.

It was still a working theory. Tucker and Sam wanted to test it out some more later.

They never got a chance.

It was a long shot but it was better than nothing.

He ran to the front of the portal where the genetic locking mechanism lay. But as Danny went to push the button, ice sparked from his fingers, freezing the lock solid.

“What? No!” He slammed his fist onto the ice but the ice wouldn’t break. “Nononono, this can’t be happening right now.”

He shivered, eyes holding a manic glint as he looked at the portal. “I’m going ghost!” Bright rings of light enveloped him, and suddenly it became impossibly colder.

Floating in the air, Danny curled in on himself, teeth chattering as he tried to regain his composure. He flew to the portal, willing himself intangible as he tried to go through the doors, but slammed into cold metal instead. Either whatever materials his parents made the door out of completely negated his intangibility or his powers were in really bad shape.

He got up, hands pressed against the portal doors. He willed himself intangible once more, but instead of his arms passing through the doors, a thick sheet of ice sprouted from his hands and started crawling up the portal. “No!”

Danny tore his hands away from the door but the ice kept growing and growing and growing. Stretched across the doors until it covered the entire entrance to the portal. Its jagged ends stopped past the octagonal metal frame and clung to the walls.

Oh god, This can’t get any worse.

“Danny?”

And then it did.

He took a deep breath. Like a deer in headlights, he turned around to see Talia and Mr. Dusan at the foot of the basement stairs. Talia was in front, a hand braced against the wall, one foot on the floor and one still on the step. Dusan, ever the statuesque figure, was right behind, hands still clasped behind his back. Their eyes were, mouth slightly agape at the sight of him.

It was then that Danny registered what Talia said.

The words tumbled out of him, “You recognized me?”

He clamped his mouth shut. Idiot.

Talia took her hand off the wall and stepped completely into the lab. “Of course, I would. You’re my son.”

The words sent a brief spark of warmth through his core. Not even his own parents recognized him when he was Phantom.

“I wasn’t aware that you were a meta, Danny.” She gracefully stepped around the patches of ice on the ground. “How long has this been going on?”

“Um, uh. A few months.” At this point, there really was no point in lying. “Since the start of the semester.”

“A lab accident, I presume.”

“Yeah….uh, how did you know?”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “No one on my side of the family has the meta gene, and while your father is quite impressive, I’m very certain he does not have it either. An accident of some sort would be the only other option.”

He felt himself start to relax, muscles starting to relax at the sound of Talia’s calm voice. The shivers were still present, but somehow they were a little more bearable.

“Now why don’t you explain to us what happened?”

“I don’t—” Danny swallowed a lump in his throat. “I don’t even know what’s going on, much less where to begin. All I know is that I’ve been feeling out of sorts for the past few weeks. I thought I was just sick but apparently, it’s way more than that, and I don’t know what to do, I barely even know what I am, much less what’s wrong with me and that fever must have done something because ever since then my powers have been on the fritz and there’s this stupid ice that won’t melt and I can’t keep it under control and if I can’t keep my powers under control how am I supposed to hide the fact that I’m a fucking ghost —”

“Slow down, slow down. You’re starting to panic. Now, I need you to take a few deep breaths for me,” she said, now a few feet away from Danny. “In for four…hold for seven…yes that’s it, you’re doing well…and out for eight.”

Calm began to seep back into Danny with each breath, his mind no longer racing a million miles an hour. “Thank you— thanks, I, um, I feel much better now.”

“That’s good. Now, what was that about ghosts?”

“Uh, that I am one? Sort of? It’s complicated.”

“I guess we can get the full story later. Does anyone else know about this?”

“No, no one.” He paused, then grimaced. “Well, there’s one other person. He’s sort of like me and, before you ask, I can’t tell you who he is. The only other people who knew about me are the other ghosts and…Sam and Tucker.”

“Not your parents?” Dusan, who had been a silent observer till now, stepped closer.

Danny shook his head. “No, I— I never got the chance to tell them. At first, I wanted to keep it a secret because I didn’t want them to know about the accident, but afterward, it just became harder and harder, what with their research and ghosts and the government and I just…” He sank back down to the floor, despondent. “I just didn’t want them to feel…guilty, I guess.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “It doesn’t matter now, though. It’s too late to tell them either way.”

“Oh, Danny, habibi. My poor child.” Talia extended her arms out to embrace him, but Danny stepped back.

“I don’t— my powers they’re— I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smiled. “You won’t. Trust me.”

Danny…Danny found himself trusting her. He let the transformation fall, taking one step closer to Talia, his hand stretched out. Their hands touched, and Talia’s words rang true. The ice did not touch her, nor did the frost, and Danny breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Well, this would certainly complicate the matters of your guardianship,” Dusan said, now a few feet away from them. “If I am of the correct assumption that you have no wish for anyone to know of your status. What of the man you mentioned—the one who is like you—could he take you in?”

“No. Never. That man is not an option.”

Talia carded her fingers through Danny’s hair in a soothing motion. “It is a shame we could not make a strong enough case to take custody of you.” She paused, humming pensively. “Although…” Turning to Dusan, she continued. “Do you think father would…?”

Dusan considered it. “Well, he would certainly be delighted at the prospect of another grandchild, especially one like Danny. But you know how he is.”

Danny looked at them inquisitively. Talia turned her attention back to him. “Our father—your grandfather—is a very powerful man. But he is a very secretive man, and much of his influence is in secrets and shadows. Much of his machinations he prefers to keep in the dark. But if you were willing to prove yourself to him, then it is not beyond his power to craft you a new life.”

“You—you’re talking about a new identity.”

“Daniel Fenton could never be with us,” Dusan said. “But Danyal al Ghul on the other hand….”

“I…” Danny lowered his gaze to the floor. Well, he was prepared, on some level, to give up his name. He had plans to run away, and going by ‘Danny Fenton’ would just be putting a target on his back if Vlad decided to look for him.

“We could be a family, Danny,” Talia whispered. “Like we always should have been.”

Family. The words felt warm inside his chest. At the back of his mind, his core hummed eagerly at the prospect. Family-family-a-place-to-belong.

But to give up his name…to give up his life …would he really be willing to do that? But if he wasn’t, then being handed over to Vlad might as well be—

( Red eyes. A looming shadow. Screams unheard because of the explosion. A world in ruin. Inevitable. Inevitable.)

“ I’ll do it.” He steeled his resolve. There was no other choice. “I’ll go with you. What do I have to do?”

Talia grinned wide. Dusan’s eyes gleamed with approval.

“Simple,” he said. “We must kill Danny Fenton.”

#dpxdc #phantom children: redux

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jessilynallendilla · 2 years ago

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In all the DC x DP content it’s popular for Danny to be a secret twin of Damian and sometimes Dick but hear me out, Danny is a secret love child put up for adoption.

Bruce has a long playboy history that could come back to haunt him. (heh)

Maybe Danny’s birth mom is Andrea Beaumont, who put him up while she was in hiding.(Phantasm Phantom)

Bruce dealing with I had another son I didn’t know about, I had another son that died

Dick dealing with the fact he is no longer the eldest sibling

Damian dealing with the fact he is no longer the only blood son, Danny looks more like Bruce and by order of birth the new immediate heir

Ghost Zone = Lazarus coincidence and maybe Ra’s meddling by putting Danny with the Fentons

It would appear vigilantism is genetic. jk

Later Danny’s all I think I should introduce you to my sister

We know about Jazz she’s interning at Arkham

No no see some rich fruit loop (no offense) wanted a son and cloned me so now there’s Elle

cue Tim bringing out “what to do if you or a loved one is cloned” power point he’s had since Kon was revealed and Superman didn’t take it well

#danny phantom #batman #dp x dc #fyi in this au of mine danny is dating valerie #and maybe he's working as a security guard for arkham #danny looked up his sealed records mom dead no father listed #found she was in gotham before he was born so he went to 'get close' and jazz with him for psychology opportunity #ghost king au maybe #def not phantom planet compliant #dc x dp #andrea beaumont #valerie gray #batman mask of the phantasm #dpxdc #dpxdc au #batman au

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minnesota-fats · 2 years ago

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Thank you for answering my ask!

I can see Bruce and Maddie meeting because of Science and interestingly enough, Maddie and Jack have an open relationship. I don't know why but I do ( on the flip side Vlad will self-destruct on that revelation )

How do Ra's, Talia, and Bruce himself think about Danny, his powers, and being the Ghost King? And Jack and Maddie who raised him?

Also, I find the thought hilarious if Bruce did have a 4th blood child( I'm counting Dani/Ellie ), it's freaking Marinette from Miraculous Ladybug, and JL, DP, and MLB are all on the same Earth.

Ironically Marinette was conceived the same way, drunken nightstand while in a high brow Gala in Paris with Sabine being a server, and shortly after that she met Tom, fell in live, and he raised her as his daughter.

At least Danny and Marinette can bond over them fighting fruit loops who should get a pet cat.

And the JL wasn't really on the up and up about what's going on in Paris because A) Everything gets fixed in the end and B) Kwami hijinks did a notice me not kind of Harry Potter spell until Constantine or Bruce starts poking around there. And C) Clockwerk may had helped keeping the secret because he owned the Kwami a favor.

Poor Damian once he finds out about that on top of still believing with his entire chest that Bruce + Selina = Dani will forever think that his Father, The Batman, is a Hoe 🤣

OH MY GODS THE CHAOS!!!!

—

Vlad would be so mad! And he would bitterly be sitting in the corner at a gala in Gotham and Danny would SO rub it into his face like: “oh look at how cool my second DAD is, dont you think so Vlad???” With the smuggest smirk anyone has ever seen on the boy. All the bats would be confused but Jazz (who is also there) is like: “don’t worry about it, Vlad deserves this.” Leaving the Batfam confused because this was Jazz—the voice of reason—Fenton. Then Elle would join in and just be fuckin brutal, “haha, bitch! bet you wish you were him huh?” And vlad storms off to sulk in peace. (Or try to anyway, there is no peace when there are ghost kids about!)

—

Ra’s would be bitter that the ghost king wasn’t his heir but would ultimately try to obtain Danny as a resource. Talia would be ok with Danny being the ghost king because what better way to have her son be protected than have his half brother be the king of the dead as well as having an obsession dedicated to protecting the people he cares about. Bruce would be devastated that his eldest bio son died before he was able to meet him but would quickly move on when he realizes that it doesn’t change the fact that Danny is his bio son. Ra’s Talia and Bruce all agree that the Fenton’s are very interesting people to say the least.

—

Tbh, Im not completely into the whole Miraculous x DC x Danny Phantom crossover. But I do vibe with the whole, Danny and Marinette bonding over having to fight crazy adults that need therapy. Also its Wayzz that Clockwork owes a favor to and he just puts Paris in its own little time bubble where time flows normally but the outside world is just getting signals from alternate reality Paris where nothing wins wrong.

—

Dani/Elle: “HA- your bio-dads a whore!”

Dami: “shut up!”

Danny: “your my clone so he is technically your bio-dad too.”

Danny/Elle: “HA- our bio-dad’s a whore!”

Marinette: “I don’t know how I got into this situation, I just want to draw in PEACE???”

And as said before, there is no peace when there are ghost children about. (Also batkids)

#danny phantom #danny fenton #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #dc x dp #dc x dp x mlb #mlb x dp #mlb x dc #ghost king danny

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timberwolf-wwe-marvel · 3 years ago

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A new Family

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

Chapter 8

Summary: The flight to Gotham is long; luckily, Mr. Wayne sent some of his kids to meet up with Daniel; Jason gets an odd vibe from Danny at first.

Bruce wakes before everyone else; he bids Alfred good morning before entering the Batcave. He checks the time; Daniel should be awake by now; he dials the number. Two rings later, "Hello, Jasmine Romanova speaking." Bruce blinks, then replies, "Hello Jasmine, my name is Bruce Wayne. Is Daniel around?"

A groan is heard, earning a chuckle, "He's bust getting my younger siblings out of bed. Can I take a message?" Bruce chuckles at the 'Eat my shorts, Jazz,' from a male voice. "Just tell your father that Dick, Jason, and my youngest, Damien, are going to meet up with you." Bruce ends the call; Jazz is undoubtedly the oldest of the kids. "Father, Grayson said I'm joining him and Todd to North Carolina to meet your husband-to-be."

RDU Airport

08:47

The Airport is bustling on a weekday, the twins groan, tired from the car ride. "Dad, how much till our flight," Ellie groans, Daniel smiles, "Not much longer." He looks toward the terminal, "Richard, Jason," Danny looks up, seeing two guys, both no older than Daniel. "Richard! Jason!"

Damien is looking at his phone, as is Jason; Dick is holding a sign with 'Romanova' on it. "Richard! Jason!" Both men look to see Daniel, his carry-on in one hand, suitcase in the other. "Daniel," both men say; Daniel pulls them into a hug.

"Oh, it's been so long. How have you both been?” Three kids follow behind the man; Jason shifts a little; Danny stops short behind his dad. “Boys, this is Jazz, Danny, and Ellie; kids, this is Dick, Jason, and,” Daniel pauses. Jazz perks up, “You must be Damien, the youngest son, right?”

The youngest of the Wayne boys nods, holding out his hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Soon-to-be-second-father.” The two black-haired teens snort, holding back giggles; Dick rubs his neck, “It took him a while to get used to it, but now he won’t stop.” Daniel smiles, holding out his hand, “Same to you.” The eldest Romanova child, Jazz, if they remember, grabs the bags, “Now, which flight did you take?” All three boys point outside; Daniel groans, “Just once, can he not show me off, even if he isn’t here personally.”

The flight was long, mainly because there wasn’t much to do; Danny and Ellie got more sleep while Jazz finished a crossword. Damien is sitting up front with the older men, Daniel poking fun at Dick regarding Barbara. “Daniel, it’s nothing; she and I are just good friends.” Jason huffs, “Like how Daniel and Bruce are friends?” Dick blushes, Daniel hides his face; Damien stands up, walking toward Jazz.

“Jasmine, right?” Jazz looks up; Damien looks just like Danny if her brother were ten years old. “Yes, how can I help you,” Damien sits down, “Bruce mentioned you were aiming for a criminal psychology degree; is that true?” The girl smiles, “Of course, is there something you want to know?” Damien looks down, “Is growing up with a Lazaris Pit under your house considered normal?”

“Describe this Lazaris Pit to me, please,” Damien explains what it is and how it’s used. “Do you know anyone who’s come in contact with the Pit,” Damien points to Jason, Jazz hums. “Well, it sounds to me that you live above a natural portal to the Ghost Zone,” what? Damien blinks; Jazz chuckles, pointing to Daniel, “We have a similar living situation, but nothing terrible happens.

Mainly because most of the ghosts back in Amity Park don't know we’ve left.” Damien nods, looking toward Jason, who is in a conversation with Daniel. “Is it containable?” Jazz shakes her head, “Only artificial portals are containable; natural portals come and go, but having lived with Daniel for some time now, the electromagnetic energy from tech gives off enough charge to keep a natural portal open.” Damien frowns, ‘That isn’t like back with Ra al Ghul’s home.’

The jet lands, everyone grabs their bags, Jason and Danny bump against each other. “Guys,” Daniel frowns; both sets of eyes are ectoplasm green. “Jason, Danny?” Jazz looks over, as does Damien, “That happens often, but Todd shouldn’t be stressed.” Jazz taps Daniel on the shoulder, whispering to him the info about the Pit, “Danny, Jason may’ve gone through the same experience you did when you got your powers.”

#Danny Phantom #OC #dani phantom #damien wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #jazz fenton #bruce wayne #lazaris pit

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raywritesthings · 4 years ago

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Bird in a Storm 12/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Tommy Merlyn, Athena, Joanna de la Vega, Roy Harper Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Athena was accustomed to deferring to those less skilled or worthy than her. The current Heir to the Demon was only one such example and was, in part, why she was here.

Simply put, the League was stagnating before her very eyes. She couldn’t say when it had begun. Perhaps shortly after she had joined the League when the schism between Ra’s and his eldest daughter had occurred. Or perhaps not until much later, when a girl had laughed in his face at a display of his power and he had not relieved her shoulders of her head but instead allowed her room, board, training and even his Heir’s body for her own pleasure.

Athena believed in her heart, however, that Ra’s decline had begun between those two points, with the departure of Al Sa-Her.

Never had she met a warrior so single-minded in his goal, yet all the more deadly for it. The lost man who had stumbled upon their secrets molded himself into a weapon and leader, rising through the ranks with greater speed than any before him.

But Ra’s had let his Horseman go, and had never truly recovered the loss. His leniency towards Nyssa’s dalliance with the disloyal girl in their ranks, his over-reliance on the Pit keeping him confined to Nanda Parbat more and more. Despite all appearances, he was an old man dragging them all to the end with him.

Athena had had no plans to strike against him, not until she had overheard the news on a mission to the Americas about the man the rest of the world called Malcolm Merlyn.

That such a man should fall to a poorly carried out stunt such as the news described was unconscionable to her. She could only assume he had been forced to act in a manner to protect his son, the man who now stood before her. The man she needed in order to achieve the plan that had begun forming in her head.

“Athena,” Thomas Merlyn echoed. “Is that your real name?”

“It is the only name I answer to. And before you check, you will not find me in any sort of search you might conduct on your devices.”

He grimaced but carried on. “How did my father meet someone like you?”

“His oaths would have kept him from sharing too many details of his time away, but we were part of the same League once. I served first as one of his trainers, then as a comrade-in-arms when he surpassed even me.”

“Comrade… in arms,” he repeated once again. She hoped he wasn’t truly this dim. “So you’re saying my father left me after my mom died to go train in some secret Fight Club?”

“He was preparing himself to enact justice upon the ones who took her from this world. From the intelligence I have gathered, he was very near his goal before the Triad’s contracted assassin mortally wounded him.”

The young man’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his father’s current state. “You said you can heal him. How? You don’t exactly look like a nurse.”

Athena withdrew a vial from her pocket. A vial she had taken great care in filling with a priceless elixir. “The contents of this vial will revive him. Slowly, I am afraid, but I could not secure more and remain undetected. You will need to introduce it into his system. I recommend the IVs replacing his fluids.”

Thomas’ eyes reflected a hunger as he reached out, but his arm paused midway. “How do I know you’re not lying? That this isn’t just more poison?”

Well, he wasn’t a naive idiot, at the least. “I am risking everything by changing my allegiance to your father and his kin. Should the man we both trained under discover my actions, I will be forcibly returned and executed for my disloyalty.” Thomas blanched, but she paid no heed. “Nevertheless, I believe in the cause Al Sa-Her was working towards. The evil of Starling City is too great, and must be eliminated. Surely you see that your city is slowly choking on the waste that wells up from the bottom?”

The look in his eyes hardened, and he took the vial. “How long will this take?”

“It is unclear. But in the meantime, you must lead in your father’s stead. There are others he would have recruited to his cause. We must find them out and see just where their loyalties now lie in his extended absence.”

“Wait, are you trying to say you can find out who set up the hit?”

“Of course I can.” She knew he had little reason to trust her abilities as of yet, but he would learn. And if he learned each piece in just the right order, she felt certain she could craft The Magician an Heir more loyal than Ra’s could dream of, if less adept with a weapon. But that, too, could be taught.

Athena retrieved a phone from her pocket that she slid across the desk towards him. “My number is the only contact programmed in. Attend to your father, then call me when you are ready to take up his work.”

While his gaze remained distracted by the phone, Athena slipped away as quickly and quietly as she had come, disturbing no one. Her next steps were already clear in her mind; discover the source of the contract on The Magician’s life, determine the timeline of his recovery and the completion of his plans and deliver his son to him as a dedicated disciple. All of this she was confident she could achieve.

Thomas Merlyn was less skilled and worthy than she, yes. But he held that same cold determination, that drive of his father’s. And history showed that could be molded.

---

Joanna sighed as she settled back in behind her old desk. It was earlier than her mom might have liked, but she was officially back to work.

She stared across at the empty space where her friend’s things used to be. No more Sara in her graduation cap, no more white board of targets. Laurel was well and truly gone from CNRI.

Well, not totally gone. Her protege approached Joanna scarcely after she’d sat down.

“Hey, Thea.”

“Hey. I’m so glad you’re back.” The younger girl hugged her. “How are you?”

“You know, pulling through. I guess you have experience with that.”

Thea nodded. “Yeah, well just don’t do what I did and you should be fine.”

Joanna laughed. “Alright, what have we got today? Think I read something about a deposition being filed?”

“Mm-hm.” In her work clothes and with a folder in her hand, Thea Queen looked truly different from the party girl she’d been only a few months ago. “It’s against Edward Rasmus. He stole the family’s savings, and they’re looking for restitution to help them get back on track. They lost everything in their son’s college fund because of this piece of crap.”

Okay, maybe Thea wasn’t totally different.

“Well, hopefully we can get it all back. Let me see the file so I have the details before they come in today.”

She was able to read up on the Moore’s file as well as a couple others before the family arrived. The couple had even brought their young son with them, who was adorable as he was shy. Joanna talked them through the deposition process and promised to have it submitted before the day was out.

It was the last time she spoke to either of the parents.

Joanna woke up early to a call from the police informing her that her clients had been killed in a home invasion gone wrong. Taylor had miraculously managed to escape the carnage out a window, so now she found herself playing social worker instead of lawyer as they tried to figure out where he would go in the immediate aftermath.

Eventually, they decided on a temporary placement with social services until his grandparents could return to the States. It still broke Joanna’s heart a little to watch Taylor being led away by the hand, and she resolved to check in on him at least once a day until all of this was over. Though she’d need to be careful about how to do it; she didn’t want a repeat attack. The timing of that ‘home invasion’ was a little too convenient for her liking.

She was glad to get a text from Laurel that day asking if she wanted to meet up. It really had been forever since her friend had bothered to reach out and that stung, but Joanna wasn’t going to turn her away when she actually did try.

It was still strange seeing her with shorter hair, Joanna reflected as she grabbed the barstool next to Laurel’s at the old place they’d gone to once or twice after work in the old days. “Hey.”

“Hey. My dad called and said you’d been at the station,” Laurel admitted. “I thought you could use a drink. I’m buying.”

“No, you shouldn’t—”

“I’m okay,” her friend insisted. “I’m just really sorry to hear what happened to your clients.”

Joanna blew out a breath. “So am I.” The whole thing stunk of the crap Thea had mentioned yesterday, but of course that was only a feeling she had. And she wasn’t about to bring that up with Laurel when her asking her to get the Hood’s help on Danny’s murder was what had led to her friend’s fall from grace to begin with.

Yet apparently she didn’t have to. “It was Rasmus,” Laurel said with conviction as their glasses were set down.

She nodded even as she said, “There’s no proof. And now there’s no case. I mean, the kid’s only six.”

“Where’s their son now?”

Joanna looked down. “Social services took him.”

Laurel turned on the barstool to face her. “He’s in the system? After just losing his parents?”

“It’s only for a little while. They’re having trouble getting in touch with his grandparents because they’re out of the country.”

“But the killer Rasmus hired is still out there, Jo,” Laurel argued. “He could get the information on where Taylor is.”

“I’m hoping he was only interested in stopping Mr. and Mrs. Moore. I mean, what else could I do, Laurel?” Joanna asked. “I’m still staying with my mom, and I couldn’t bring Taylor in there and put her at risk like that after everything. I talked to your dad specifically and had him put two squad cars outside.”

Laurel looked down. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to do what’s best for everybody, I just…”

“I’m worried, too. I’m going to make regular check-ins over the phone in case someone’s got their eyes on me, too.”

“That’s not out of the realm of possibility,” her friend agreed. They both sipped at their drinks for a while, neither in the mood for idle chitchat. So much for catching up.

Joanna left her things with Laurel while she went to the bathroom before they headed out. As she approached the bar, she noticed Laurel was hunched over her phone, though she straightened up as soon as Joanna got close.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Listen, we should do this some other time when work isn’t so depressing, you know?” Joanna said.

Laurel nodded. “Definitely. Maybe next week or so? I’ve got some busy nights coming up.”

“How late is that shop open?”

“I’ve picked up a couple things. Just helps to keep myself occupied.” She went in for a hug, and Joanna couldn’t help noticing how solid Laurel felt. Not that her friend had ever been all that fragile before, but there was something different to her stance, to the security she seemed to give off just through a hug. Joanna gave her head a shake as she backed off.

“Everything okay?” Laurel asked.

“Yeah. Guess I’m just thinking about how so much has changed… you’re taking care of yourself, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you.”

Joanna went home and ate dinner with her mother before they both kicked back to watch some TV. Nothing was really catching their interest, so her mother started channel-surfing. A picture on the screen caught her eye, and Joanna sat straight up.

“Go back, go back!”

“What, to the news?” Her mother hit a couple buttons and Green, the nightly anchor, came back on.

“—Rasmus allegedly confessed to police after they responded to reports of the Hood being spotted at the businessman’s penthouse. The hired gunman who killed Eric and Nancy Moore remains at large, and police advise all in the Glades neighborhood to exercise caution.”

“That’s the case you were working on?” Her mother asked. When Joanna nodded, her mom said, “Well, I hope you didn’t call him. Bad enough he got Laurel in trouble, I don’t need him sidling up to you.”

“It wasn’t me, mom,” Joanna assured her. But she was pretty sure she knew who it was, and she had to shake her head again. Laurel was never one to sit idle, was she?

With Rasmus in custody, Joanna decided to head to an early bed. No benefactor meant no additional hit, no additional hit meant no hitman.

Taylor would have to be safe now, right?

---

Mr. Blank had a job to finish. It hardly mattered that the target was a little boy. He had seen his face. That meant he couldn’t remain alive. It was nothing personal.

He’d already taken care of his former employer through posing as the man’s lawyer to gain access. Only one loose thread left, and he would be free to continue his business unhindered.

It had been a simple matter to get the information on young Taylor Moore’s current housing situation. He had simply called in pretending to be a representative of the boy’s grandparents seeking to confirm the child’s location for pickup. Sneaking a peek at the casefile number for Taylor had been another goal of his at the police precinct, and it aided his ruse.

A group home in the Glades was the boy’s temporary residence, and it would now be his final one. Mr. Blank parked his car on the next street over from the building, then walked along the sidewalk sure to keep his back to any and all CCTV cameras. There weren’t many in this neighborhood. Even better, he had overheard at the station that two officers that had been stationed outside had been recalled only last night thanks to Rasmus’ capture. That left him free and clear to take care of matters.

As he drew up to the steps of the building, he noticed a young woman sitting with her back against the wall of the home, head bent and blonde locks hanging in her face. A potential witness. How irritating.

Mr. Blank sighed and reached for the gun in his trench coat pocket. In the same instance, she stood up in one fluid motion and looked him right in the eye, revealing her own face was hidden partially behind a mask. Interesting.

“Somehow I had a feeling someone like you would show up.”

“I assure you, there’s no one else like me,” he told her. “But I would have expected the Hood after his intervention with Rasmus.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Her fists were balled and she had no weapons. This would be easy.

Yet as he retrieved his gun, she lunged, one hand closing around his wrist and twisting hard. Mr. Blank hissed and pulled back, the gun clattering to the ground. She kicked it further to the side and moved in closer. So it was to be a brawl.

He feinted to her left and was just barely blocked by her arm when he tried to strike her right. He grabbed her arm and yanked it to force her forward, ramming a knee into her gut.

She wheezed but barreled forward to take him with her, crashing him into the wall outside the home. Mr. Blank tasted blood when he bit down. He just barely got his guard up when she went for a punch to his face. He twisted her arm behind her back and relished the cry that left her as he closed in, the fingers of his other hand reaching for her mask.

“You’ve seen my face. Don’t you think it’s only fair I see yours?”

Her head jerked back, colliding with his chin. His grip reflexively loosened, and she spun out of his hold.

What she lacked in finesse, she made up for in sheer enthusiasm. This was a brawler, and she lived for the fight just as much as he did. He thrilled at the blood pounding in his ears, the pain in his jaw.

They both eyed the gun lying a few feet away. He dove for it. She dove for him.

Mr. Blank’s fingers grappled for purchase on the weapon as her weight fell upon him. He turned and was met with two hands forcing his arm away, just as he squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

---

He was walking home from another shift at the club when he heard a noise not altogether uncommon in the Glades: a person’s pained and heavy breathing. In the past, he might have kept on walking. But ever since his life had been saved by the Hood, he’d been trying to find some reason for it to have happened. Some reason he’d been worth it.

So Roy cautiously approached the alley he could hear the sound coming from. In the dark, all he could make out was the disheveled blonde hair of a woman leaning against the wall as she slowly staggered forward. Her head was down. She had to be focusing solely on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Hey. Hey, lady,” he said, coming forward. She hissed and drew back, but as she did her hair sort of shifted, revealing it to be a wig. And he thought he recognized the real hair underneath, short as it now was.

“Laurel?”

“Roy?”

He shook his head. “You’re the Woman. Should have known it was you.” She’d roughed him up well enough just for stealing Thea’s purse.

“Well, I’d congratulate you on your detective work, but this one was kind of handed to you,” she said, strain in her voice. She was limping pretty bad, too.

“Hey, what happened to you?”

“Got shot. Just a graze, but it hurts more than you’d think.”

“Don’t have to guess,” he said. Roy came around to stand at her side and pulled her arm over his shoulder. “Here, give me the wig.” He stuffed that in the pocket of his hoodie. Hopefully, they didn’t come across any cop cars or someone who looked at them too closely. “How far do we have to go?”

“Just a couple more blocks.”

They traveled it mostly in silence, not wanting to draw more attention to themselves than necessary. She had a place about the same size as his, though he thought her street had a slightly better reputation. Everything was relative.

“You got any disinfectant?”

“Cabinet above the bathroom sink.” She hobbled over to a little basket that turned out to hold sewing supplies. Well, at least she knew what was going to have to happen.

Roy returned from the bathroom to find her with one leg out of her leggings. He kept his gaze on the floor.

“You ever do this before?”

It took a beat where he thought she was nodding before she realized she needed to answer verbally. “Yeah. On my arm.”

“Okay. This’ll probably hurt a little more.”

She hissed when the disinfectant made contact with her skin and flinched badly at the first poke of the sewing needle. Not that he could totally judge her for that kind of aversion.

“You said a little.”

“My bad.”

Once he had finished closing up the wound, she grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch to throw over her lap which brought him some comfort. Roy sat back, watching her. “So when did this start?”

She shrugged. “A month or so back, officially. But it’s been coming.”

He thought he knew what she meant by that. The slow simmering of anger waiting to boil over into outrage at just how much everything here sucked. How unfair it was, how impossible it was for most people to escape.

“And the guy that shot you?”

Her head bowed for a moment. “He shot himself, in a way. I was trying to get the gun off him. It grazed me, but…”

She didn’t have to finish.

Roy shrugged. “Then he got what he deserved.”

“What he deserved was to be tried for his crimes,” Laurel maintained, though her shoulders slumped and she lost the haughty look. “But I can’t say I’m devastated he’s gone. It’ll keep Taylor safe, at least.”

“Who’s Taylor?”

“A kid. His parents were trying to sue a man called Rasmus for losing their savings, and he hired a hitman to take care of the problem. The hitman killed the Moores a couple of nights ago, then came back to try and finish the job.”

Roy’s fists clenched at the thought. What kind of sick person targeted a little boy for something he wasn’t really even a part of? “How’d you hear about all this? I mean, was it the Hood or…?”

She shook her head. “The Hood has his own operation going on. I’m just doing my part where I can.”

“But you know him, right?” Roy couldn’t quite keep the eagerness out of his voice. “Or you know how to get in touch. I’ve been looking for him since he saved my life.”

Laurel said nothing, only studied him.

“Do you know if, I don’t know, I could help him somehow? I know how to fight.”

“The Hood’s mission is a personal one. I’m not sure that he’d be willing to risk someone else getting hurt,” Laurel said, smirking as she added, “There’s a reason I’m on my own.”

Roy looked down. So she thought it would be a no.

“He has a team.”

The unexpected words caused Roy’s head to jerk up sharply.

“I could see if he’s in need of anyone else to provide support. That’s the best I can promise you.”

It was better than he’d had. “I could help you fight out there.”

Laurel considered him. “You have a lot of good instincts, but they’re not honed. It’s going to take some training for you to be able to do more damage to them than they do to you.”

“That’s not a no.”

“It’s a we’ll see. Find yourself a way to train first. I’d recommend a guy except I think he’d kill me for sending another vigilante to his doorstep,” she remarked with enough lightness in her tone to make him think she was probably joking. “But for now, you shouldn’t be out there looking for trouble.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, mom.”

Laurel shook her head. “I am not old enough or financially and materially stable enough to be a mother.”

“Yeah, neither were my parents,” said Roy. He thought he caught her smirking at that in spite of herself. “I guess I should let you sleep the pain off.”

“That would help. I’ve got work tomorrow.” She stood with a low groan, wrapping the blanket around her waist like a skirt. “That’s not gonna be a fun walk.”

“You ever think about getting a bike?” He asked. “It’d get you around faster at night. Be easier to avoid the cops.”

She frowned. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“I know a guy who sells them cheap. They don’t have all the parts, but we could fix them up probably. Or I could.” He shrugged. “Support stuff, right?”

When he chanced a glance up, Laurel was smiling at him. “That’s not a bad idea. Tell me when we can see your guy.”

Roy felt his hope reignite, and he nodded. “Yeah, could probably get us in by the end of the week. But, uh, I guess you need my number.” He grabbed a pen off her counter and scribbled it on a to-go menu. Laurel grabbed it up with her free hand, nodding to herself.

“Okay. I’ll message you so you have mine, and I’ll let you know when I’m available.”

“Daytime would be best. I’ve got this new job. A real one, at the Verdant.”

For some reason, she smirked at that. “Good for you. You should stick around there.”

“Okay.” Roy backed up towards the door. “I’ll see you. Uh, what do you go by?”

“Laurel?” She said skeptically.

He snorted. “I meant like your vigilante persona. Everybody’s got different names floating out there. The Woman, Lady in Black, Angel, stuff like that.”

“And some less flattering monikers, I’m sure.” Laurel looked off into some kind of middle distance. “I don’t know. I hadn’t given it much thought.”

“Maybe you should.” He shrugged one shoulder and headed out the door. Once it shut behind him, he couldn’t resist pumping his fist.

He was in with the vigilantes. Well, one of them at least. And he’d make sure Laurel felt he was indispensable so that she’d have to agree he made the cut. And then someday, she might even introduce him to the Hood, and he could repay the man who had saved his life and shown him this new path.

He was finally going to make a difference.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #bird in a storm

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