#Jason is catnip to Danny

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 16

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 16:

Jason carefully kept his writing legible as he wrote down the heating instructions. Considering Ghost seemed to be living off granola bars he was not taking any chances. 

There were signs Ghost had returned a few times. The bag and calibrator was gone of course, and the sandwiches were disappearing. It wasn’t good enough. Ghost needed more than sandwiches, it was better than living solely on granola bars, but it was not enough. He needed something more energy dense - hence the meat and vegetable stew and the mashed potatoes he’d made, packed in portions for easy reheating. But he had to make sure it was easy, he didn’t want to risk it being too bothersome and him not eating any. 

Slowly, deliberately he put the pen down so he didn’t break it and laid his hands down flat on the kitchen island. Jason was in control, not the pits. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting the seconds… 

…seven… eight…

Carefully he pushed the voice away that insisted he just lay a trap instead of all this tip-toeing around. It would be all too easy, Tim had found out how to short-circuit his powers. It hadn’t lasted more than an hour or two, but really there was no reason they couldn’t just attach some sort of device to him and repeat the small EMP charge every hour - it would be easy.

It would be horrible.

It was not how Jason wanted to go about it. Fucking Pits. Fucking intrusive thoughts. He hung his head taking deep breaths. He just wanted a little bit of peace of mind, was that too much to ask?

A half-choked gasp sounded behind him and he spun around wide-eyed. There, across the living room section of the open plan apartment was Ghost halfway through the far wall. His eyes were wide and looked as shocked as Jason felt. 

Jason didn’t dare breathe as he slowly raised his empty hands. One wrong move and he could ruin everything. He swallowed dryly and ever so slowly he stepped to the side around the kitchen island and backwards, away from Ghost, deeper into the kitchen, cornering himself, leaving all exits free - even if Ghost didn’t technically need any. Ghost followed his movements warily only moving his head, his body completely frozen, still only halfway through the wall. 

Jason’s back hit the cupboards. It was as far as he could remove himself. It was all he could do. The ball was in Ghost’s court. 

Please don’t run.

Jason didn’t think he could handle that one more time. 

Oo o oO

Danny kept his eyes locked on the currently helmet-less not ghost. His heart rabbited in his chest and his whole body felt coiled like a spring, torn between running or going forward. He was terrified, but he also yearned-

Danny had become complacent. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he cursed himself for it now. He’d just moved thoughtlessly through the wall and his ghost sense had only had time to warn him when his eyes could do just as well. The barely there mist had fizzled uselessly out of his mouth when he gasped. 

Helmet moved carefully away from Danny, as far away as he could in the kitchen. His hands were raised as if in surrender. He looked as harmless as a six foot tank could, which to be fair, it wasn’t the size of the man, that scared Danny. No, it was the fact that his entire body screamed trap. Danny was not keen on a repeat of his powers being gone, and the risk, the knowledge of it, it threatened to tear apart his painstakingly assembled composure. 

Red Helmet might have taken him away from the other vigilantes, but he was still one of them. Danny just could not let himself trust him and it hurt, deeper than his still fucked up ribs. It hurt just to keep his core in a chokehold to stop it from calling to him. Never mind the near irresistable longing; Danny wanted so badly to go to him. 

Danny couldn’t let himself. 

Yet it was Helmet, not Danny, cornered right now. Caught in the act of something at the kitchen island. There was a small piece of paper on the island and Danny was curious. 

And there were also still so many unanswered questions. How could he hear Danny but not respond? What was that thing about the anger he’d mentioned? Why had he given Danny back his backpack and the spectral calibrator? The calibrator in particular, because that one strictly speaking didn’t belong to Danny. Why was he stocking up food in an apartment he clearly didn’t live in? For Danny?

All were questions he couldn’t get answers to by running away. 

Danny just had to keep his instincts on a tight leash. 

Watching warily for any sudden movements, Danny slowly phased the rest of the way into the apartment. His beat up sneakers barely made a sound as he touched down on the wooden floors, but still Danny flinched. 

Their eyes met and both held their breath.

Helmet looked away first. In fact he pointedly looked anywhere but at Danny now, seemed very intent on studying the counter now picking at non-existent dirt. 

Somehow him not looking made it easier to walk closer and he carefully did. There was a whole kitchen island between them - that had to be enough for Danny’s paranoia. 

He now stood where Helmet had stood when he came through the wall, he could pick up the paper. 

It was heating instructions - for him.

His resolve crumbled and the paper crinkled as he clutched it like his life depended on it. Such a little detail. Not just the food left here, but instructions. When was the last time anyone had cared like this?

“Why-” His voice broke and tears prickled at his eyes. He cleared his throat and swallowed before trying again. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked from Danny to the note in his hand, seemed to mentally discard something, before admitting quietly, “I know what starving is like.” 

Danny balked. “I eat.”

“I took a backpack full of protein bars off you.”

Danny grimaced. Just eating the sandwiches left for him here had been a vast improvement. So what if he didn’t eat well, he ate enough to survive. The fact that Danny could cling to existence through force of will was something he didn’t want to examine - his human half was still alive that had to be what mattered. 

“So this anger thing,” Danny forcefully changed the subject like a bull bursting into a China shop, “tell me about it.”

Helmet tensed and that in turn made Danny tense. He might have overstepped. The moment was long and drawn out as Danny waited for the other shoe to drop. Slowly, Helmet let out a long sigh and forcefully relaxed his body. It didn’t put Danny entirely at ease, but it helped.

“There’s not much to tell,” he faked at nonchalance but there was something tightly leashed in his voice. 

Danny didn’t buy it for one second. “Try again.”

There was a grimace and it looked almost like there was some sort of internal fight going on, until eventually he spoke. 

“I got exposed to some nasty shit, ever since then I’ve had anger issues. I only realized once they were gone how pervasive they were.”

He looked away.

“I have hurt people - killed people - I thought they deserved it, but I’m not so sure anymore, not for all of them.” And there was pain there, in his voice, in his face, this was a hard thing to admit, not just to himself, but out loud to someone else. 

Danny’s heart ached for him. The silence stretched between them and Danny prompted gently, hesitantly, because he didn’t understand this part himself: “And I make it better?”

“For about two days, give or take.” There was an affected casualness in the tone, but Danny noticed the way his hands clenched into tight fists. It had been about two weeks since Danny had last been in a room with the man. Two weeks since Danny had had any physical contact. He harshly clamped down the projection of longing before it could escape his grasp. 

It was, Danny realized, no wonder that Helmet had chased him so vehemently. He could not only hear Danny’s call for him, but he had something of his own he struggled with. Something that Danny could apparently do something about, or rather his core song, if Danny was putting the pieces together right.  

But Helmet wasn’t chasing now. It must have been two torturous weeks.

“You have found a way to nullify my powers, why not just use that?”

Helmet’s jaw clenched. “It’s not exactly nice.”

“Didn’t stop you two weeks ago.”

“I had nothing to do with that!” He snarled taking a step forward eyes glowing ectoplasmic green.

Danny took a step back at once cautious and intrigued. Not a ghost, but definitely something. 

It looked like it took great effort, but he stepped back, plastered himself back against the cupboard and his eyes were blue again. Softly, he whispered “I only ever wanted answers.”

He wanted help. Danny’s breath caught. He was asking Danny for help, even if it wasn’t in those specific words. Danny looked down at the handwritten note in his hand. Helmet hadn’t planned for meeting today. He’d been just as shocked as Danny. He’d written him instructions with no guarantee Danny would ever help him, despite struggling with this anger. 

Danny did not owe him anything, Danny was not beholden to anyone in this dimension, but he was asking for help.

Danny hesitantly stepped around the counter. 

Mentally he countered each argument for why this was stupid. 

He took a step forward. There was no trap. Danny chose to believe him when he said he didn’t want to use whatever device that had been on him. 

Danny took another step forward, and step after step until he was right in front of him. Danny didn’t look up to see whatever expression may be on his face, it was easier like this standing face to chest. And it was a nice chest, wearing a red henley worn soft and fuzzy through countless washes. It was easy to take the last step into his space and lean his forehead forward to rest against him. 

It was harder to let go of the tight ball he’d pulled his emotions into. 

“Can I?” Helmet asked, arms hovering slightly away from him. 

“Yeah,” Danny replied hoarsely, and then arms settled around him hesitantly, warm, human - not tight or trapping him, it was considerate but not what Danny needed. A wounded sound left his chest and he pressed closer. He clenched his eyes shut but still tears ran wet tracks down his cheeks as he finally gave in - let go. 

His core was a cacophony of grief warring with happiness. Melancholy and joy twisting and churning neither one really winning. Danny was so tired and worn he couldn’t focus on what he should feel. All this and maybe he couldn’t even help him? 

If he couldn’t get the happiness going what use was he?

But then the arms tightened around him and it was a proper hug. He was being held. There was a hand in his hair tugging him into the crook of Helmet’s neck, as he bent slightly over to surround him. Danny’s forehead against the crook of his neck, skin again skin. A warm body. A fast heartbeat in his ears. 

He was not alone. 

His core thrummed with the knowledge. 

Danny lost time. 

It was terrifying. It could have five minutes or an hour that they stood there for all Danny knew. He had been so lost in the warmth of human contact and the content song of his core. 

A shiver of fear went up his spine and he tensed.

Last time he had fallen asleep. That, he could at least understand. He’d been extremely exhausted after everything that happened. But this was different. Danny didn’t even know if he would have noticed Helmet moving him - he hadn’t; they still stood in the exact same spot. 

He made to draw away and for one heart-stopping fraction of a second, Danny thought Helmet wouldn’t let him go. But that was uncharitable, he had to give Helmet time to even realize what he was doing. Just cause Danny’s brain was running a mile a minute, and a second seemed like an eternity, didn’t mean it was to anyone else - and Helmet did let him slide out of his arms. Danny looked up, eyes just a bit wide. He was trying to stay calm, he was. He didn’t know how to interpret Helmet’s expression. His eyes met Danny’s, his brows were doing something, his mouth was a line downturned at the corners. His arms were raised, drawn back just slightly after Danny slipped away.

Danny took another step back.

Helmet didn’t move. Danny realized suddenly what the expression was; he looked sad.

Danny’s core pulsed painfully, and his breath stuttered. He wanted to go back to that embrace, he wanted to stay and forget everything else. 

It was all he could do not to run, because those feelings were terrifying in and of themselves. He turned and he carefully walked to the far wall. He stopped there, clenched his trembling hands. His eyes trailed an uneven line on the white wallpaper. 

This wasn’t just about him.

“The day after tomorrow,” he said, loud enough he was sure Helmet could hear him. Then he couldn’t hold back anymore and he threw himself through the wall. His heart raced in his chest all the way back to his lair. 

It went against every cautious bone in his body to reveal he’d be somewhere at a specific time, even such a vague promise as the day after tomorrow. It was as much as he could get himself to do.

It wasn’t just about him. 

-

Alright and that's probably it for the rapid updates, this part mostly needed edits to fit better with what actually ended up happening in the earlier parts and I hadn't written the ending, I wasn't sure I'd get the time today, but I did so, tadaa!

Things are going better! It's not all misery anymore.

Danny wasn't quite this terrified early in the story, but then he felt relatively safe in his ability to get out of situations. Having his powers knocked out, really brought up a boatload of trauma. It's just also really making him out of sorts to be that at odds with his core.

I hope it makes sense.

[mokus-invenstory]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached (Catnip) Master/subscription post

Please don't interact with this post other than subscribing to it, it will be updated as I add more parts. Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

AO3 link (only chapter 1 so far) Tumblr parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 |

How to subscribe to a post: Website: click on the three dots (...) in the upper right corner of the post and choose 'Subscribe to Conversation'

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[bluerosefox]

Phantomish Rogues

Team Phantom get ripped from their home universe into the DCverse. With no money or real ID's in this world. Now thats a problem.

Another big problem is that Danny is badly injured and his core kinda put him into a deep cryo sleep. He needs to rest and gather ectoplasm.

Bigger problem Team Phantom have no clue how to get home because they don't know how to decode the Fenton Portal blue-prints, not even Jazz who at the time didn't pay attention to her parents portal work anymore by the time they finished it. The only one who does have an idea is Danny!

Biggest problem, they landed in a place called Gotham that seems to be overrun with actual villains and heroes? (vigilantes). And for some odd reason many of them seem to find them no matter where the Team goes to hide.

Until they can get their hands on a safe space, tech, and money, Team Phantom might have to go a bit Rogue/Villainous if they wanna keep Danny safe until he wakes up.

[kirabasai]

dc x dp au prompt where the lazarus pits are just crazy good ghost drugs.. danny accidentally eats some of the residue off jason on timeand gets addicted, which sparks a 6 month long crusade on danny’s part to hunt down the pits and get some more of that good stuff,.

jason is just rlly connfused why he’s also on this roadtrip

[spookyfishoperalamp]

Ghosts are pack creatures that's why they always attacked, because danny wasn't going to them their little ghosty brains went 'Baby, there's a BABY all by its self must play and make sure they are happy and socialised' this can be an au of 'ghost fight to say hello and bond au'

You can also throw in a dc crossover, there was a post where Danny got stuck in Gotham and started to steal a lot of stuff to make a portal back to the infinite realms but he stole some tech from Wayne interprise and got on the bats radar.

The potential of Danny being stessed and depressed (like how pack animals start to become more and more sad over time when they are alone and in some cases like the dolphins they would actively kill themselves) and wanting to go back home so he can see his sister and socialise protect Amity Park from the others that want to cause trouble

So you have the bats chasing after him cause they think he's a new villain and want to find out what he's doing with all the tech, Jason shows up to help capture Danny cause he always goes towards Crime Alley to escape the other bats.

You get danny acting on instinct when he senses jason and stops cause either ghosty part of his brain is telling him a friend is near and maybe more, so he stops gets pined by jason maybe a concussion so you can have him do things he normally wouldn't act on if his instincts didn't take over

[on-the-clear-blue]

Jason felt like he was going insane, there was a flicker just outside of his vision and it was following him...

And it was getting closer and closer each time he noticed it.

A flash of white...a black so dark it sucked in shadows...a chill that left him feeling like he would never be warm again.

He couldn't shake it no matter what he did, his coms went dark an hour ago, and all his tech died not long after, his grappling hook felt heavy in his hand as he ran around another corner, his chest pounding.

God, he needed to get away. He needed to get back to the bats... Batman could help... Bruce always helped...

---

Danny couldn't help but hold back a giggle as he saw Red Hood shoot off onto yet another roof top, his whispy tail flicking back and forth as he gave chase! He was having so much fun! Gotham was turning out to be such a fun city!

---

Jason's heart stopped as he saw toxic eyes blink out at him from the shadows, slitted pupils blinked wide into pure black orbs, matching the darkness.

He had faced aliens, new gods, crisis on a scale to erase reality itself but this? He had never felt more afraid.

Fear toxin couldn't even touch this...

---

Danny's eyes grew wide like a fiesty feline snorting catnip.

His prey! His pretty and very handsome prey! All the delicious energy pouring off him was intoxicating!

Unknown in his limited brain power, Danny started to match his play partners energy, letting fear roll off him like a tidal wave.

---

Time seemed to halt, all hope of losing what was hunting Jason seemed to evaporate.

Forst glazed over the rooftop before jagged unearthly blue ice sprang out of it, spiked and sharp stalagmites jutted out all along Jason, an utter cold that made him forget what warmth felt like.

His hands shook from both fear and from the cold, but they still tightened around his guns, but he couldn't pull the trigger, even as he saw a shimmering outline of something, a shape that was far less monstrous than he had assumed.

---

Danny couldn't help but giggle as he finally caught up with his playmate, floating up to the Reverants face, his small hand wacked right where Hood's nose would be if not for the helmet.

"Boop! Ur It!" He screeched with joy, and started to fly away, snickering as he did, he had yet to loose a game of tag with any of the bats!

[leafyeyes417]

I decided to create a masterpost or two with all the reblogs that I like in hopes that when someone sends out the “help me find that post” I can find it faster. It will be added to slowly because I do not have the patience to do it all at once. Also in no particular order of preference.

Keep in mind none of these posts are my works and I do not claim them as such.

If you see *** they are really good prompts with lots of reblogs.

Will be edited later, last updated: 7-21-24

Masterlists

Multi-story masterlists

dcxdpdrabbles

Hdgnj

Tu-turu-turah

Specific Story lists

Jason is Catnip to Danny

Hyena Danny

Finally Getting Help

Wrong Robin

Badger Day

Man has needs

Almanac

Take out for Dummies

Danny is just some guy

Changling AU (part 5, other part links at bottom of post)

Fast Car Driver Danny

Haunted Car

Harmless Series

Don’t eat anything

Hero Tweets

Just a Bite

Single posts

Ellie-centric

Ellie realizes how dangerous Danny’s home is

Danny’s Rescues from the Infinite Realms

Green Lanturn & crew stuck in IR

Dead on Main

Jason courting Danny with a casserole

Overprotective Fenton parents shovel talk

Danny courts Jason by giving him wine cups made from the Joker’s kneecaps

Jason becomes a Ghost Summoner after giving Danny food***

Dream Lover***

Soulmate summoning ring gone wrong

Dead Tired

Coffeeshop accident

Dead Serious

Dead Silent

Danny kills the joker with his thighs

Danny on the run from the GIW

Superman startles Danny and gets a concussion***

Danny In Gotham

Sleepwalker Danny who escapes all traps

Unknowing Fae Danny works at coffee shop

Danny pretends to be a Vampire***

Feral McGee

Danny only gets a Vacation from work in Gotham

Danny seems like an Oracle of Delphi***

The GAV affected by Fear Toxin

Tucker streams while Danny does what Danny does in the background***

Danny is kidnapped(?) by Batman***

Danny gets hired for a money laundering front***

Portal is built in Gotham, not Amity

Naga Danny

Villain Danny

Danny’s obsession is twisted, forcing him to be a villain

Danny teaches heroes their mistakes by being the villain***

Adopted Danny (as in not Bio Fenton)

Danny is Hal Jordan’s son

Harley asks Batman to take away her son

Harvey Dent is Danny’s bio parent

Danny adopted by Bruce Wayne

Danny distribution system

Danny makes a sales pitch to join the Batfam

Reincarnated Danny

They wake up as Talons

Reincarnation

Clockwork reincarnated as Alfred

Misunderstanding’s that end in chaos

High Danny mistakes Batman for Jack

Mis-text-derstanding

Summoning Danny

Number is not in service

Danny: Please get that stalker (Ra’s) away from me

Demon Twin/Brothers

Damian is normal by Amity standards

Maybe(?) his lost twin

Nyssa steals Danny

Danny undercover in Amity

Jazz decided she wanted a brother

Tim Twins/Brothers

Danny and Tim are half-siblings

Danny sleep teleports to another dimension

Jason and Danny are brothers

Jason is a Baby ghost, adopts babier ghost Danny***

Ghost King Danny

Danny needs to take care of the Lazarus pits

Danny finds out there is a Ghost LOA

Miscellaneous

Danny possesses the president

Danny takes Jason’s online cooking class

Danny forgot what is regular human

Jack was a hitman named Phantom

Ghost Calls

Danny & Jason have the same scars

Superman was supposed to wait for the JLD

Water Core Tim

Fenton Driving curse still applies

Danny asks Wonder Woman to make him a grave on Themyscria***

Kryptonite is actually trapped souls

Danny and self-fulfilling prophecy

Danny pretends to be a demigod son of Hades

Danny gifts Red Robin a jar with Ra’s eyes

Vlad Cloning Danny was actually a much worse offense, breaks oldest ghost law

Amity got put back in the wrong place after the Pariah Dark fight.

Jason involuntarily taken to the ghost hospital

Phantom Letters

Danny learns Astral magic

Miscellaneous Angst

GIW succeeds in shooting the portal

DPxMarvel

Loki falls through to the IR and is adopted by Danny

Pure DP (not crossover)

Danny was Eldritch the whole time

Danny gets sprayed with a chemical where he hallucinates the person he hates

Demon!AU (with Art)

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 14

Let's just ignore I've updated this story three days in a row, @ailithnight asked me to make them cry, so we're giving the challenge a shot. This was written today and may very well have typos. Also it literally can't go on like this, I have work tomorrow.

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Jason had called ahead to let them know he was coming to the cave and then promptly turned off his comms again. He didn’t need to hear their questions. Not on comms. It was bad enough he had to face them. 

He drove into the cave, his resolve the only thing keeping him from turning right around. Everyone but Bruce were in their civvies at this point. Jason shouldn’t be so surprised Bruce had called it a night. Not after ghost jumping off a roof in front of them. 

Bruce did care, and Jason could tell himself that now without poison dripping into his ear about how it was only to keep his little soldiers at the top of their game. He was too exhausted to appreciate the missing put at the moment, he just wanted to go home and try to forget for a moment that Ghost had left again, but he had to do this. 

Dick was sitting with an arm around Tim on the meeting table. Tim looked wrecked - good, he thought grimly and immediately felt guilty. He didn’t even have the pit to blame and yes Jason was angry about what had happened tonight, but really he was just as angry at himself. Jason might have tried to make them understand that Ghost needed help, but he’d done a poor job of it and they didn’t hear his grief for themselves. 

They hadn’t felt Ghost’s terror in their electricity trap, his desperate fight to control his panic, they hadn’t felt it as he fell or the shock of pain as he landed. They hadn’t felt the panic reach a fever pitch and then utter silence.

They hadn’t been 50 yards away on another building, running, because they knew something terrible was about to happen. They weren’t the ones who thought they might have already been too late even as they caught him out of the air. 

But Ghost had been alive. He’d been breathing. Panicked, but breathing, yet still utter silence. 

Jason had been terrified. 

And yes he was angry. He should have never let it get so far even in his desperation. They needed to stop chasing him. It wasn’t working. 

It had nearly cost him his life. 

He was a fucking burglar, not a rogue! He wasn’t a murderer who would kill someone if he wasn’t stopped. They should have never used this level of force. They never would have used this level of force if it wasn’t for Jason and his erratic behavior. It was on Jason, not Tim who was a seventeen year old kid just trying to keep this cursed family together. 

Damian was sitting at the meeting table a few seats away from where Tim and Dick were sitting on the table and for him to willingly be that close to Tim without any needle-ing commentary it was practically the equivalent of a hug. 

Jason sighed, then pulled off his helmet and left it on the bike. He couldn’t hide behind the safety of its smooth surface, not for this. He walked over to the meeting table, knowing it would draw the rest over there.

Damian took one look at him, with that sharp judgment that was always in his eyes. “You let him get away.” Jason grit his teeth, refusing to rise to what was just an observation, but it had been a trying night and it was tempting to snap, that he didn’t let him do anything. 

“His powers returned,” he said finally, carefully even-toned.

Tim looked up shortly at that and Dick squeezed his shoulder. Normally, Tim would have been on that detail like a hawk. How long did it last? Did the powers return gradually or all at once? Were there other adverse effects? And probably more questions Jason had not even thought to consider because that was just Tim. Now, Tim was silent.

“Jason?” Bruce asked carefully from somewhere to Jason’s left. Jason couldn’t look at him. Last time they’d been this close Jason had almost shot him. 

Stephanie and Cass joined Tim and Dick to sit on the table, and Damian allowed Cass’ hand in his hair only because she could kick his ass six ways ’til Sunday. Duke was the last to join their loose circle standing to Jason’s right. 

Jason didn’t have any excuses left. He even saw Alfred standing a ways further by the wall. Everyone was here. Babs was definitely still on comms with Bruce, even if the cowl was pulled back. 

He tried to take a steadying breath without being too obvious about it. He probably failed, horribly. 

“You have to leave Ghost to me.”

“Jay… you’ve not exactly…” Dick said carefully, the only one willing to even go near the fact that Jason should be the last person to go after Ghost. That he had been far from rational about the whole thing. That he was invested, personally more than they could even guess. 

“I need-“ Jason looked to the ceiling, breathing for just a moment, before looking down again. “I need you to trust me on this, to let me handle it. What happened tonight… it cannot happen again.” 

He clenched his hands, gathered every shred of courage, then looked to Bruce. 

“Dad, please…” He ignored the gasps from his siblings, from shock or outrage that he of all people pulled this card, maybe both, it didn’t matter. Jason only had eyes for Bruce’s stunned face, for the way his jaw tightened and his eyes were moist under pained brows. He only had ears for the way Bruce’s voice broke partway as he said: “Of course, Jaylad.”

“Thank you,” Jason whispered, afraid his voice would fail him if he spoke any louder. He held Bruce’s gaze with his as he said it, because he deserved to know how much that meant to him. The urge to go over to Bruce was strong, to see if his dad would hug him if given the chance - he thought he would, but that, that would be too much, and the pit would be back in a couple of days. 

Jason couldn’t handle any more tonight. 

He gave Bruce a tight nod and turned to leave, avoiding looking at the reactions of his siblings. 

Out the corner of his eyes as he left, he absently noted the purple backpack he’d stolen from Ghost sitting by the evidence board and that metal cylinder, Ghost had left behind the night Jason had met him, sitting on a shelf amongst other knickknacks. 

In the back of his mind an idea was taking shape, but he'd only realize that the next day.

-

I made myself cry writing this, that happens very rarely. Jason has had a really bad day, but it was the father-son feelings that did me in.

I do not know when I will update next time, the chapter this part belongs to is like 2/3rds done now, but it's the middle I need to fill out. Oh well, I'm enjoying the writing bug while it lasts. Update: Next

[mokus-invenstory]

Inventory

Will be updated when I find the energy.

Dead on main (Danny/Jason, dp x dc):

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached (also known as Catnip AU for Danny's reaction to Jason) Tumblr masterpost | Ao3

Ghastly Glacial Goodies (the Ice Cream Truck AU) Tumblr (need to make a proper master post for this one)

Salt in the Bones series (collab with Clockways) Masterpost on Clock's blog because it seems silly to have two

Take Out for Dummies Masterpost | Ao3

Trauma Tuesday fic, currently untitled (cw: vivisection) Tumblr | The beginning

Almanac Masterpost

A Man has Needs Masterpost

[impyssadobsessions]

I like the headcannon that ghosts purr, and I think Danny would likely be embarrassed about it at first even if he isn't later, but how do you think the batfam would react when they first find that out? Like it could be a wfa chapter, Danny is hugging one of the batfam, or maybe it's a group hug, and he starts purring. How would that interaction go when they realize that? I can picture Dick just cooing at Danny for no less than 10 minutes after that realization, and some of the others maybe making fun of/teasing him about it, which would only embarrass him further. Would someone point out that Danny may be uncomfortable with people making a big deal of the fact that he purrs because it's normal for ghosts to purr just like cats and generally for the same reasons? Or would they not even think of that possibility until Danny starts to show clear discomfort or gets upset? Did Jazz already know?

(I'm asking you about the thing that's been on my mind for days because there is literally nobody else I can think of to discuss this wfa chapter concept with.)

Oooo yes! I think so to! I can see the batfam at first confused, trying to find Alfred the Cat... like is that the cat?- then they feel it coming from Danny. "...Are.. you purring?" They ask all with a smile on their face. They probably find it adorable in a weird way. Immediately Danny stops purring, face red. "...no." >>' Really obvious that he was as he pulls away from them all embarrassed. Yess Dick just probably pulling Danny back into hug =w= cooing~ Jason definitely teasing. Cass making a cute cat gesture with her fingers being cat ears. Stephanie teasing too. Probably asking if catnip will work on Danny. Damian silent.. because now he is also associating Danny with a cat.. and wanting to hear the purr again. Duke mentioning how Danny must be really happy then. Tim probably noticing how uncomfortable Danny is with them all pointing it out. Jazz already knowing, just giving a weak smile. saying "I told you it was cute Danny~" Danny grumbling, looking away embarrassed. Thats when Tim ask if Danny's ashamed of it. Danny just doesn't respond. The batfam sharing looks like oh.. this is a sore spot. Dick kindly asking if Danny is ok with telling them why. Danny debates about it and probably does because he doesnt want them to feel bad about it.. Saying how he doesn't know.. it just embarrassing.. because its weird ...also mentioning how it makes him feel.. less human because its a ghost and an animal thing. (probably doesn't help it makes him feel lesser because of his upbringing on ghosts) They soak it in for a moment and then pull Danny back into middle of hug. All trying to cheer him up saying how they don't see it like that. But make note not to mention it. But anytime he purrs they just eat it up XD After knowing he can purr. Because it means he's really relaxed or happy. Anyway how I see it~ I can also see it happening near holidays.. so he's already bummed out-but then spending time with the bats make him so happy in contrast he couldn't help but purr. <3 ooo ooo They could finish the night sharing embarrassing stories too what weird thing they're self-conscious of.

[thatrandomsarahchick]

@killugonfan01

Jason, the hangry swamp monster: gets an ecto- snack from Danny

Jason: still a swamp monster, but now he's acting like a cat on catnip.

Danny: oops.

dp x dc prompt: the lazarus pits are the swamps of the ghost zone au

danny's exploring the ghost zone when he finds a weird deserted lair that looks like it hasn't seen a ghost in centuries. he's exploring it, trying to figure out what happened to the ghost who lived there when he gets caught and dragged in by the swamp like liquid quicksand. he comes out of the other side in another dimension. he's not exactly eager to go back into the disgusting swamp so he tries to find a cleaner natural portal to get the hell out of there.

it could either be an everyone died!au where danny decides to stay in this dimension and joins the justice league or an au where jazz, tucker and sam are frantically searching for him while he's just chilling in this weird new world

[newyorktheater]

Judi Dench as Old Deuteronomy in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

(from left) Victoria (Francesca Hayward) and Munkustrap (Robbie Fairchild) in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

(from left) Rumpleteazer (Naoimh Morgan), Victoria (Francesca Hayward) and Mungojerrie (Danny Collins) in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

Jason Derulo as Rum Tum Tugger in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

(from left) Mongojerrie (Danny Collins), Bombalurina (Taylor Swift) and Rumpleteazer (Naoimh Morgan) in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

Taylor Swift as Bombalurina in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

Jennifer Hudson as Grizabella in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

Francesca Hayward as Victoria in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

(from left) Macavity (Idris Elba) and Victoria (Francesca Hayward, back to camera) in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

Idris Elba as Macavity in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

Ian McKellen as Gus the Theatre Cat in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

Francesca Hayward as Victoria in “Cats,” co-written and directed by Tom Hooper.

“Cats” isn’t for everyone – much of it is a cheesy, B-grade affair seemingly crafted solely to take over midnight-movie slots from “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,’ Those with an open mind, though, as well as little kids and the T-Swift posse, might find it somewhat pawesome.” Brian Truitt writes in USA Today, in the most positive review I could find. He’s enchanted by Taylor Swift, but turned off by the “nightmare fuel…when human faces are put on tiny mice and Rockette-esque cockroaches.”

More typical is Manohla Dargis in the New York Times:

“It is tough to pinpoint when the kitschapalooza called “Cats” reaches its zenith or its nadir, which are one and the same. The choices are legion: Judi Dench gliding in as Old Deuteronomy, a Yoda-esque fluff ball with a huge ruff who brings to mind the Cowardly Lion en route to a drag ball as Queen Elizabeth I; the tap dancing Skimbleshanks (Steven McRae), dressed, unlike most of the furries — in red pants and suspenders, no less — leading a Pied Piper parade; or Taylor Swift, as Bombalurina, executing a joyless burlesque shimmy after descending on the scene astride a crescent moon that ejaculates iridescent catnip…. there’s nothing new about the movies’ energetic embrace of bad taste…”

And then there’s Michael Phillips in the Chicago Tribune: “It presents your best and presumably final opportunity to witness Sir Ian McKellen, Jennifer Hudson, Idris Elba and Taylor Swift in whiskers and digital fur. Is it the worst film of 2019, or simply the most recent misfire of 2019? Reader, I swear on a stack of pancakes: “Cats” cannot be beat for sheer folly and misjudgment and audience-reaction-to-“Springtime for Hitler”-in-“The Producers” stupefaction…..Audiences unfamiliar with the material may be stunned to learn how little there is to “Cats,” not just in terms of narrative but in terms of everything besides narrative.”

“The King’s Speech” director Tom Hooper’s outlandishly tacky interpretation seems destined to become one of those once-in-a-blue-moon embarrassments that mars the résumés of great actors” — Peter Debruge, Variety

“Cat-tastrophic” — David Rooney, Hollywood Reporter

“…basically two hours of stray cats introducing themselves..” — Jake Cole, Slant

The plot:

It’s the annual night of the Jellicle Ball for a tribe of Jellicle cats, and one of them – “the Jellicle choice” – will be picked by wise Old Deuteronomy (Judi Dench) to be reborn into a new life.

Georgina Pazcoguin as Victoria

Leona Lewis as Grizabella

My review of the 2016 Broadway revival:

The first Broadway revival of Cats, which is neither wholly reimagined nor an exact replica of the original, is unlikely to turn off Cats-lovers, nor win over Cats-loathers. It works best as a showcase for the energetic young cast and what it does best – which is dance. As Mistoffelees, 20-year-old stand-out Ricky Ubeda, season winner of the TV competition So You Think You Can Dance, delivers an athletic solo turn late in Act II clearly tailor-made for his talents. While director Trevor Nunn and set and costume designer John Napier more or less recreate their work from the original production, new lighting designer Natasha Katz adds her own touches, as does Andy Blankenbuehler, the Tony-winning choreographer of Hamilton. Although the program carefully credits his work as based on the original choreography by Gillian Lynne, anybody who’s seen Hamilton will recognize Blankenbuehler’s signature moves, including some hip rhythmic bending from the ensemble, but the dancing is most marked by its variety, from jazz to rock to ballet. If the lyrics are largely lost in the swirl, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s score holds up. The performances, though, are uneven. Pop star Leona Lewis, as Grizabella, has the voice for Memory, but captures none of the character’s complexity – the quality dignity mixed with pathos that Elaine Page and Betty Buckley brought to the role.

  Cats Movie: Pics and Reviews “Cats” isn’t for everyone – much of it is a cheesy, B-grade affair seemingly crafted solely to take over midnight-movie slots from “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,' Those with an open mind, though, as well as little kids and the T-Swift posse, might find it somewhat pawesome." …

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 15

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Danny shouldn’t have come back here. It was too risky. They had a way to disable his powers now, and Danny couldn’t let his mind dwell on that or he would freeze in terror, he had to focus on the present and not what happened the other night. At present he was looking up at the apartment where Red Helmet had taken him. 

It could so easily be a trap. 

But facts. Red Helmet had not stuffed him into a tiny electrified cage while he had the chance. He may of course have thought he had more time before Danny’s powers returned, but he hadn’t taken advantage. He’d stopped questioning when it was clear Danny wouldn’t talk. And- Danny’s throat closed and he fought a sob - he’d just sat there with him, invited him to lean on him and rested an arm around him. 

Just thinking about it made him ache with longing. Two days alone, hiding and licking his wounds, had only highlighted his loneliness. He’d tried to keep busy, to work on the portal, but it was limited how much he could do with a broken wrist. He’d stolen a brace, something he at least hadn’t been discovered at. The feeling of being watched crawled all over his neck whenever he didn’t have his back to a wall. 

Danny just hoped his wrist would grow together right. He couldn’t go anywhere to get the position of the bones checked. It wasn’t usually something he worried about. His healing was normally so fast and it’d always gone fine. But usually he was hurt in ghost form, not human form. Usually he had a better supply of ectoplasm. His ribs still hurt on deep inhales and it had been more than a month since he’d been crushed underneath Red Helmet on that rooftop. 

Danny had no clue how long bones took to heal on normal humans.

He didn’t know if he should be worried - he was worried. If his wrist didn’t heal right, it would make it harder to work on the portal. Danny needed to finish the portal. For a moment he felt faint as the delay stretched out indefinitely in his mind’s eye, and he had to lean back against the wall behind him to steady himself.

His hands shook as he closed his eyes counting his breaths: in, hold and then out slowly. In again- It would be alright. It was just a minor setback. Hold- He would heal. He would heal fine. And out- He would finish the portal. He would go home. 

He couldn’t dwell. He had to focus on the here and now.

Bricks were digging into his back. Flat pavement was under his shoes. Noise of cars driving through puddles, people walking, someone talking on the phone. City smells in his nose: smog, damp garbage, he wrinkled his nose; someone had pissed somewhere nearby and it was rank. The earlier rain clearly hadn’t been kind enough to wash it away. 

Yeah, that was about all the grounding Danny could take. He blinked open his eyes. The overcast sky left the city gray and dim. Across the road, 5th floor, 7th window counted from the right, that was were Red Helmet had taken him. 

Danny should not be here. It was objectively a terrible idea. 

And there he was again, trembling, because this could be a trap (and Danny had had enough of traps). But also he was so fucking tired of feeling like he was a pile of yarn, stacked too high in his arms so bits of him kept rolling off and unwinding and it was all he could do just to pick up the pieces and keep himself together, never mind actually taking a step.

He hated it. 

What was he even doing here?

He didn’t owe Helmet for not trapping him, for not being terrible, for being warm and gentle. Danny grit his teeth. He should not feel guilty for leaving without a word when he discovered his powers were back.

But he did.

Helmet had mentioned something about anger, and that Danny quieted it. He could have been lying, but to what purpose? To capture Danny? He’d already had him helpless? And he’d seemed genuine, his eyes had seemed so tired and pained, and boy did Danny know tired and pained. 

Danny’s longing stretched towards the apartment, before he harshly reeled it in and stuffed it back in his wayward core, ignoring the pain as he did so. That was another thing. He’d said he felt Danny’s call for him. Danny was torn about how to feel about that, and until he sorted out his feelings he had to keep a tight lock on what he might be projecting. 

It also meant Helmet could sense him, possibly from further away than Danny’s ghost sense detected Helmet’s not-quite ghostliness. At least if he was projecting, which he wasn’t. Not right now, and he would keep that locked tight, even if it felt like a hand squeezing his core. 

The one good thing about Gotham was that not a single person looked twice at some anxious, scruffy looking young man standing too long in one place. Danny picked restlessly at the straps on his brace. 

He had to make a choice. He either had to go or leave. It was too dangerous to stay out here in the open. He took a step- and left. He cursed himself for his weakness all the way back to his lair.

He returned the next day to the same pointless, time wasting result.

The day after that he forced himself to not set his feet on the ground. Invisibly, he flew right up to the wall next to the window. The drapes were still drawn, on all the windows that had to belong to this apartment. His ghost sense didn’t activate, even this close, but that didn’t have to mean anything. Danny could only detect Helmet like that, the apartment could be crawling with the rest of the vigilantes. 

It could still so easily be a trap, just waiting for him to stick his head through the wall.

He reminded himself that Helmet already had had his chance to capture him, he hadn’t take advantage. But that was the logical side of his brain and the paranoid one yelled so much louder. Danny was not a stranger to cruel tricks of pretend compassion. 

Still, this was the third day he’d been back here, and he couldn’t go on like this. He needed to know. One way or another, he needed to know for his own peace of mind. For his core which wouldn’t fucking quit it with the longing; single minded pile of useless instincts, is what it was. 

It didn’t mean he had to be risky about it. He’d spent a while thinking about it and if it was a trap, they’d expect him to come through the outer wall. Danny had other options. 

Mentally apologizing to whoever was the upstairs neighbor Danny slid through the wall of that apartment instead - thankfully it didn’t seem anyone was home. Danny lowered his shoulders in relief, and flew across the similar open floor plan, when he reached the kitchen, he halted in the air. 

He took a deep steadying breath, refusing to dwell anymore. If something he happened it happened and he would deal with it - one way or another. Then he stuck his head through the floor. 

It took a moment for him to orient himself, but most importantly he quickly discovered the apartment was empty. And as he looked over to the drape covered windows, nothing seemed to indicate a set trap. He let out the breath he’d been holding in a suddenly exhausted sigh, as the tension left him. 

Something caught his eyes on the kitchen island. He tilted his head, not believing his eyes. That was his backpack! Just sitting there, innocent as if it belonged there and Danny hadn’t lost it and several days worth of food. Danny slid the rest of the way down through the ceiling and absently righted himself as he went. He dared not set down his feet on anything. 

Carefully, he floated over to the backpack and inspected it, not daring to touch it. It was definitely his and not a well made copy. He ran his hands methodically through it intangibly searching for trackers and other technology that could have been hidden in its weave. There was nothing. For all intents and purposes that was his backpack, though of course his phone wasn’t in there anymore. 

Impulsively, he grabbed it and hugged it to his chest. He closed his eyes as he tried to breathe steadily. He was not gonna cry. It was just a stupid old bag - but it was also one of the few things he’d had of home and he’d thought he would never see it again. 

When he got himself back under control, he realized there was more on the table. His brain refused to comprehend what he was seeing because it just couldn’t be. Hesitantly he reached out and picked up the metal cylinder; the spectral calibrator. It just couldn’t be. Why would it be here? It had to be left on purpose, but why?

There was a yellow post-it note stuck to it and Danny rotated it until he could read, expecting an explanation of sorts, instead it just said in all-caps “FOOD IN THE FRIDGE.”

Bewildered Danny looked to the fridge. He’d honestly not even noticed its presence before, it had just been part of the kitchen backdrop, like the sink, the stove and the numerous cupboards.

He put the spectral calibrator in the backpack and put it on, just in case he needed to make a quick exit then floated over to the fridge. It looked like a regular fridge. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Gingerly he opened it, ready to go intangible at any moment. He let the door swing open, waiting, but nothing happened.

The fridge was well-stocked with bottles of water as well as pop and electrolyte drinks. There were also two shelves with shrink wrapped sandwiches right at the height of Danny’s head. They were labelled: chicken-bacon, ham-cheese, egg, tuna, falafel and dated with todays date. Helmet had been here today. Danny’s eyes were wide as he looked from the selection to the post-it he’d left on the table. It was an offer to take something, right? 

But why? Why would he do that? Why would he leave Danny’s bag here and the calibrator? What game was this?

Hesitantly, he picked out a water bottle and turned it around in his hands. It was sealed and didn’t look like it had been tampered with. He picked out more random bottles. Everything seemed fine. The sandwiches could have been tampered with. They could be drugged. But that wouldn’t be a problem as long as he took the sandwiches with him. If he got knocked out for a few hours in his lair that didn’t matter. 

It seemed unlikely they would poison him after all that trouble they’d gone through to capture him. So at most it would probably be something to put him to sleep. 

Exhaustion hitting him suddenly, he realized he’d been using his powers too long. Letting gravity take him, he leaned against the kitchen island behind him. His vision swam a bit as he wiped sweat off his brow. That was the trouble with having a human body, gravity did actually exist for it. It felt a bit like he’d run a marathon. 

He let out a slow breath, debating, then grabbed a bottle of cola - he recognized the Zesti brand. He could use the sugar.

The sugar worked fast. Eating something substantial would be better, but Danny was not eating anything here. He started packing sandwiches into his bag and a couple more of the Zesti bottles. And when he felt he shouldn’t burden it’s old seams anymore, he stopped. 

Potentially drugged or not, eating something other than dry granola bars would be good. 

He left and like a coward, he was glad Helmet hadn't actually been there; even if Danny still hadn't figured out what his deal was. That was future Danny's problem now.

-

Yeah I don't know what's with my strange productivity either, next part is also nearly done but then we'll run into a good deal of stuff that's just plain unwritten.

Also do you have any idea how hard it was to get Danny to go into that apartment? He's just so cursed skittish, this part wasn't meant to be this long - my notes for this was just basically "Danny goes back to the apartment to find his backpack, the calibrator and food left for him" - sigh.

If you wanna follow the story you can subscribe via the masterlist

Update: next

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - part 11

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 11:

Danny took a running leap and landed lightly on the next shoddily tiled rooftop. He’d lost the midget in the Southside factory district and now he was in some sketchy neighborhood with smaller buildings. It was on ground level, but it seemed almost like it was sunken into a hole as the rest of the city had grown up around it and swallowed it - one of the main highways even went plain over it. 

Danny stopped for a moment catching his breath. The roll of heavy duty cable slung over his shoulder was… well heavy. He looked out over the mishmash of old neon lights and newer LED signs for bars, nightclubs and little kiosks. In the alley next to Danny’s building money was exchanged for services Danny was not sticking around to watch. Blushing, he skipped to the next roof, taking care to land silently. 

He should just disappear, he was far enough away from his own hidey hole and he was tired. He was always so freaking tired.

But…

Well, first off he wasn’t phasing through a night club to go underground. 

And secondly…

Red Helmet hadn’t showed up. 

That was a good thing, Danny told himself frowning, as he walked along the spine of the newest roof, dodging around chimneys. The past weeks had been torture. 

Every time the Red Helmet had shown up it had been so hard not to go to him. He’d wanted so bad to give in, to just for moment heed the call of his core, the promise of companionship, comfort. Refusing that instinct was agony. And Ancients, Danny remembered how he’d looked in civilian dress, in that well worn henley, broad chested and with those big arms, he probably gave great hugs - if only he wasn’t one of the vigilantes trying to capture him… And if he wasn’t absolutely terrifying.

Danny shuddered, remembering how angry he’d been last time, yelling for him to stop. Yeah… Red Helmet was… He was an anglerfish, a lure, a treacherous light in the dark, that he had to resist, and last time he’d shown his teeth. 

Red Helmet not showing up was a good thing. 

Danny stopped and looked up to the cloudy night sky, jaw tight. It was a good thing. Why did he still feel so bereft?

He pulled the goggles down around his neck and rubbed his wet eyes angrily. Fuck it all, he just wanted to go home already!

His only warning was an electrical bzzt and he threw himself to the side instinctively. His eyes widened in fear as he only barely dodged two sticks sparking with arcing lines of electricity. Every hair on his body stood on end. The entire world narrowed in on those two weapons. He jumped backwards, uncaring where it took him he just needed to get away. 

Something hit his back and stopped him. His hands touched brick: wall. One of the sparking weapons was swung in lazy swirls as the dark shape attached to it bent down to pick up the roll of cable that had caught on a small chimney. Danny touched his shoulder, finding it bare of its earlier cargo. His hand tightened into a fist angrily and he cursed himself for not paying better attention. 

The shape got up and while half Danny’s attention was on the electrified weapon, he could now see it was Blue Bird. Danny had encountered him before, though only a couple of times. He’d been the bantering, good natured sort next to the angry midget, and he hadn’t known those sticks he used for weapons could do that.  

Realization ran cold down Danny’s back; Blue Bird hadn’t thought he needed the electricity before, but he did now.

Blue Bird moved and Danny ripped himself free of his petrification. Casting around he realized the wall was not a wall, but a pillar and most importantly neither was a thing that could stop him. It was only at the last second he went intangible and stepped backwards. The metal sticks clanged against the bricks where he’d stood. 

The sound of Blue Bird cursing, was a dull far away sound, as Danny started shaking. He kept a tight desperate hold on his intangibility but still felt himself losing focus. He quickly had to go somewhere. 

He dropped down until he found one of the many flood pipes that handled overflow if the sewers couldn’t handle the pressure. Something that seemingly didn’t happen too often judging by the dry debris left here. You could say what you wanted about this city, but the web of underground channels and tunnels was impressive, and the city was if nothing else prepared. 

He set down carefully and then let go of his intangibility. He was still shaking. His heart was pounding too fast. He wrapped arms around himself and took careful deep breaths even as his body told him he wasn’t getting enough air. But he was, he knew that was the panic speaking. 

He fucking hated electricity. 

Hated it. Hated it. 

You would think he’d be used to it by now. When he died, all the times Vlad shocked him, Vortex, that time Valerie tortured him in a basement, the- He forcefully shut down the thought. 

He should be fucking used to it by now!

But he was not. Especially not when it came out of nowhere like this. He’d frozen. They could have caught him. Danny could not be caught. Could not. Could not. Could not. 

Shakily he breathed in slowly through his nose and let it out. 

They were going to use electricity again. There was no way they wouldn’t take advantage of a weakness like that. 

He’d lost the cable.

Red Helmet hadn’t shown.

And why did he keep coming back to that! Of all things that should be the least of his worries. It was a good thing. It was. 

It just didn’t feel like it.

Oo o oO

Tim didn’t blame Bruce for letting him take point on this. 

After Jason had pointed a gun at him, he was rightfully shaken. Oh, he pretended not to be, but anyone who knew him could tell. There was a furrow edged on his brow even when he played Brucie whenever someone wasn’t directly interacting with him. He was worried and afraid.

And Tim got it. He had been there for everything. He understood how terrified Bruce was of losing Jason again, just as things had been slowly looking up. Bruce was drawing back, which was for the better. The alternative, that Bruce might come to a point where he thought something needed to be done about Jason, was too terrible to imagine. He would do it too, set aside his emotions, and do something, if he thought it was for the best. None of them needed the fallout of a Bruce who’d convinced himself Jason was too dangerous.

He was dangerous. But, thinking of the broken mirror, bleeding feet and tired eyes, Tim thought he was more dangerous to himself. 

It had been a painful realization to make. Tim had gone to Jason, with the mission in mind, only to find that maybe Jason had needed someone to check up on him for him. But even worse, Tim couldn’t be that person, because they didn’t have that kind of relationship. 

It wasn’t fair.

In an ideal world Tim got to be Jason’s annoying little brother. In an ideal world Tim wouldn’t be afraid of Jason. 

 What Tim could do was solve this issue. He took a deep breath and put all his emotions aside, they could wait. He was a plans guy and they needed a plan.

Tim surveyed the mess of papers he’d made of the table, as he’d pulled everything off the evidence board. It was time to start from the beginning. 

He sorted through and found the “meta?” sign, crossed out the question mark, and hung it in the center of the board. 

In the beginning they’d thought primarily that the Ghost used cloaking tech, but the phasing had made that very unlikely, and Duke had all but confirmed the meta theory when he told them he sorta glowed to his senses. He sorted through the papers and trashed those old theories. 

He put the known powers back up, then paused when he found the little scrap with a silly cartoon ghost Dick had drawn and put up in the corner of the original board. It had eventually gotten covered with something else and Tim hadn’t seen it when he took things down.

Now he considered it with a sigh, and pinned it next to the powers. Ghost was as good a codename as any and Tim suspected it was only Barbara who still refused to use it because Dick was obnoxious about it. And, Tim moved on to the picture of the phone to pin it back up, there was the fact that the recovered messages said nothing but “ghost”. So there was some connection. He marked that connection with a piece of string to the cartoon ghost.

The short contact list went up with the phone picture. 

At some point when this was all over Tim needed to take a closer look at that phone. He had no idea how that brick managed to get any signal, much less how all the contacts were out of service when called from that phone, despite some of them actually being in service. Yet, it could somehow call other existing numbers fine, both local, out of state and international. 

It made no logical sense!

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let it go. 

Danny Fenton? went up above meta, they were reasonably sure that was his name. Next Tim took the list of known thefts and dates and hung it up on the left side of the board. Then added Star Lab break in a bit higher up. There was about three weeks in between the Star Lab break in and their first recorded sighting. It could mean anything. He could have stolen numerous things in the mean time without being discovered, or only just gotten to Gotham. 

Tim had scoured crime reports of Metropolis and other nearby cities for thefts that fitted Ghost’s MO, but had found none, so for better or worse he seemed to be sticking to Gotham for now. 

He put up buyer? And building? Underneath. Tim still had the terrible hunch he was building a portal that would end up destabilizing reality, but since he had nothing but his gut feeling to build that on he couldn’t put it on the board - not the board in the cave anyways.

He trashed a few dead end theories, found a scrap of paper that simply said “electromagnetic interference”. He held it in his hand for a moment, something niggling in his brain, but it was only half formed, he turned around and pinned it under powers and let it go.

Next he pinned up the “weaknesses”. Finally, thanks to Dick’s temper, they had something. He’d not been pleased to come home from his mission to the state of things being even worse so he’d gotten serious and treated the Ghost as an actual threat. 

Tim wrote electricity on a new scrap of paper and then put it under weaknesses. He tapped his chin with the capped marker. The Ghost’s behavior was odd. With the abilities he had, why even play chase with them?

He didn’t use the phasing to escape them early on. It was only when Jason entered the picture that began. Was it because the ability had a limit? Did it cost him to use it? Also what prompted the odd reaction to Jason that first night? And what about it made the Ghost so desperate he’d disappeared on them as soon as Jason was in sight?

Tim grabbed a new scrap of paper and pulled off the cap on the marker. He had to resist the urge to write “Jason” on the scrap, he’d keep that thought to himself, and instead wrote “limit?” And hung it under weaknesses with electricity.

There were more papers on the table. An analysis of the electromagnetic signal he gave off, that Tim had used to reduce noice in their visuals and audio. Pictures of the protein bars and the backpack. A map with every place the thief had disappeared on them marked: aka basically spread all over Gotham. A blood sample readout that was too degenerated for a useable DNA sample. These things didn’t go in the trash, but they weren’t important for capturing the Ghost, instead they went into a folder and put to the side.

Table now clear, Tim noticed his favorite mug full of steaming coffee and a plate of cookies set near the edge. He smiled and rubbed a hand through his hair self consciously. He hadn’t even noticed Alfred had been by, but he was a lifesaver. He would have to thank him later. 

He took the mug and a cookie and sat himself on the table, surveying the evidence board. He sipped the mug savoring the good coffee. It went perfect with the chocolate chip cookie. 

His eyes rested on “electromagnetic signals” again. It had been one of Dick’s early “proofs” that their thief was a ghost - if you subscribed to Ghostbusters lore at least. Tim rolled his eyes. The real reason the ghost couldn’t be a real ghost was that he was visible at all. Only magic users could see ghosts without a spell to make them visible (Something Tim was pretty sure Dick knew). He didn’t actually know whether the electromagnetic disturbance was a real ghost thing, the JLD didn’t need such tools after all when they could see them just fine. And besides if it was it probably wasn’t to the degree the Ghost gave it off. 

Would an EMP do anything? Probably not, since they were convinced the Ghost wasn’t using technology at this point, but a small localized pulse couldn’t hurt to try.

He took another sip of his coffee, contemplating, he needed something better. They could run the Ghost around all they wanted, but unless they stopped that phasing, he would get away every time. 

Jason couldn’t continue staying out of it like this. They’d chased the Ghost once without him and he was worse than a tiger in a cage, and twice as vicious. Tim scoffed, if only they could put the Ghost in a cage-

Tim’s thoughts crashed to a halt. 

No, they couldn’t- it’d never work- but if they- 

He jumped off the table, took three steps, then turned back to put down his mug and cookie. Then hurried over to the where they had the maps. With nimble fingers he sorted through the rolls only barely skimming the tags before discarding and moving to the next. They had to have- Got it! A utility map of the industrial area in Southside Gotham. He grabbed it and hurried back to the table. Unrolling it he placed the mug and the plate to hold down the corners even as he was already scanning the map looking for-

There!

It may be a while until the Ghost hit the area again. And they would need all hands on deck for this and preparations had to be made. But…

Tim smiled. They had a plan.

-

So we've gotten to this point :D Hope you enjoyed it! Comments will keep me warm on my night shift tonight <3

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[unprecedenteddpxdchyperfixation]

👀👀👀

I am Very Normal about this AU

How about we go the Cass roommate route, (and invite Jason to the party), cos I'm a complete sucker for Dead Silent (I think people are also calling it Deaths Dance) as a ship.

My thought was what if, to people that were revived in the Lazarus pits, Danny's presence is like catnip to some of them, and like weed to others? Make Jason react like it's weed, and cass like a cat with catnip.

And after the party summoning, Sam just starts summoning danny whenever she wants to hang out with him, as well as when he wants to get out of some ghost king shit, leading to more interaction between Danny and Cass

Ok that's me out of ideas, can't wait to see where this goes

Imagine: Samantha Manson rents an apartment with other students in university because she wants to pay her own way through college. One night, the other students throw a party. Sam takes refuge in the campus library during this, because she does not want to be around that. But eventually the library closes for the night, and Sam has to go back.

Sam walks in on the partygoers, still there, hanging out around a "summoning ritual" for fun. They're cleaning up -- the ritual didn't work, obviously.

Sam wordlessly halts the clean-up efforts in their tracks by taking one look at the summoning circle, seizing a paintbrush, bodying people out of the way, and making a dozen minor adjustments to the summoning circle.

It's Sam. No one stops her, and no one is brave enough to ask any questions.

Sam finishes, then walks off without saying anything.

The partygoers look at each other, and then immediately try the summoning ritual again.

(Look, Sam has a reputation as a goth and, if you believe in that stuff, as a witch. Not to say that any of them actually believe in that stuff, but sometimes it's fun to pretend like you do, and, well. They already decided to give it their best shot tonight, and they know that a Sam-approved summoning circle is the best shot they'll get.)

They read out the spell. The candles flare, the flame turning a dark, poisonous green, then blow out. A surge of black light shoots up from the summoning circle, and a presence thickens the air around them.

Before them appears a being that they know, in their soul, is not of this world.

A creature of the realm of the dead looms before them, crown ablaze with fury. "Who dares--"

Sam, nonchalant, wanders back into the room. Wanders over to the summoning circle. Casually erases, with the tip of her shoe, what they know from their brief study of their occult book to be the containment layer of the summoning circle.

Casually says, "Hey, Danny, what pizza toppings do you want?"

The presence fades, but does not vanish completely. "Oh, come on Sam," says the being that an animal part of them recognizes as of the realm of the dead. "What the hell, you know I hate that."

Sam wanders back out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "Well, I hate having my thermos broken!"

The being floats out of the summoning circle, and takes on the shape of a boy, touching down to the ground. The presence fades even further, until they wouldn't be able to tell the creature wasn't a boy if they hadn't already seen.

"Okay, first of all, that was at least 50% Tucker's fault--" it says, trailing after Sam. The conversation becomes unintelligible as they go to Sam's room and shut the door.

The partygoers are left in silence, with paint that has been turned to ash, brand-new candles that have been burned to stubs, and a terrifying new knowledge of the existence of the beyond.

And, for the unluckiest of them, terrifying new knowledge that the person they share a roof with has regular, real, dealings with the dead.

(Twenty minutes later, the pizza arrives. With a pineapple topping, of course.)

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached (Catnip) - part 10

First| Masterlist

It was near noon. Tim was in civilian dress outside of Jason’s door. He took at deep breath. Worrying did not help. It did not help to think about the fact that Jason had pointed a gun at Bruce last night. That he had looked very close to pulling the trigger.

It wasn’t that Tim hadn’t noticed something was up with Jason. Of course he’d noticed, a blind man would have noticed. But this was Jason, something was regularly up with Jason. And like when wasn’t his relationship with Bruce strained? Basically never? 

But things had been getting better. Jason had stopped crime-lording, left that to his lieutenants, who as long as they followed the rules, operated relatively unmolested in Crime Alley. It worked. He kept apart, but he was on the same comms as them. He helped out if there was trouble. He cared, they all knew he did. Even if things were still hard. 

It was a bit back and forth but generally the relationship between the bats and Red Hood had been getting better - like the overall trend, Tim had a graph. There was a prognosis that Jason may join them for Sunday dinners in a couple of years. So it was not so weird that Jason had been drawing back, Tim had assumed that was just some of the regular fluctuation that happened now and again. 

But this?

Jason pointing a gun at Bruce?

That was more than just a fluctuation! That was something else, and it all lead back to Jason meeting the Ghost about 5 weeks ago. Jason had been odd that night, there had been something uncertain, hesitant, about him. Tim had brushed it off at the time, there could be any manner of reason for Jason to act a bit off, guilt being the obvious one. Jason for all his gruffness did not like accidental violence, his violence had a purpose and was doled out to those he deemed deserving. 

At one point that had been Tim. 

That thought sat heavy in his chest as he took another deep breath. 

Was he the best person to do this? No, probably not. But someone needed to do it. Dick was on a Justice League mission halfway around the world. Cass would probably have been safest, least likely to piss Jason off, but Tim couldn’t outsource this. Tim needed to talk to Jason, to assess him himself. 

Finally, heart steeled, he knocked on the door. 

There was movement inside, footsteps coming to the door. There was a rumble in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the text:

You should not be here.

Tim scowled at the door. “I am not leaving. I need to talk to you.”

There was a moment of silence that dragged. Tim would wait out here all day if he had to, he was stubborn like that and Jason knew it, which is why eventually the sound of the locks turning reached him. Tim carefully kept the victory out of his face. 

Jason didn’t meet his gaze as he let him in and locked the door behind him. He didn’t bother to reset the traps. Instead he padded barefoot over to the kitchen counter.

“Coffee?” He asked, voice scratchy.

Tim didn’t respond immediately eyes too busy following the small trail of blood Jason left behind where he stepped. 

“Tim?” His eyes snapped up, meeting Jason’s tired eyes. 

“You know me,” Tim finally responded weakly. Jason looked… sick, was probably the best word. He was pale, the bags under his eyes so dark they looked bruised. His hair was unwashed and there was something about the weariness in his posture that made him look small in his loose t-shirt and sweatpants. 

Something about the image deeply alarmed Tim and he retreated with a, “I’ll just use the bathroom real quick.”

He noticed the crunch under his shoes even before he saw the broken mirror over the sink; that explained why Jason’s feet were bleeding. Fuck. He sank down onto the closed lid of the toilet and put his head in his hands. This was so much worse than he’d thought. Tim could handle anger, not whatever that was.

“Fuck,” he repeated his earlier thought, quietly and emphatically. Then stood, flushed and washed his hands, to keep up appearances - for something to do. Stalling didn’t help.

He walked back out to find Jason sitting at the small kitchen table with two cups of coffee, one of them placed in front of the empty seat across from him.

Tim sat down and picked up the mug with both hands. He sniffed the rich aroma before taking a sip, Jason had great coffee.

“What do you want, Tim?”

Tim looked up and opened his mouth to reply, something, a deflection, but Jason didn’t let him.

“You’re obviously not here for my sake, so cut to the chase.”

Tim’s mouth clapped shut and his lips thinned. Outrage burst in his chest at the implication that he didn’t care. But Jason was right. He wasn’t here to check on Jason for his sake, he was here to assess him. To make sure what happened last night would not happen again. He was there for them, for the mission, not for Jason. 

Jason was right and it stung. 

Well far be it for Tim to further try to delude them both. 

“I need you to stay away from the Ghost.”

“Like Hell!” Jason snarled jumping to his feet, and there was the Jason Tim had expected, and he held the instinctive fear in an iron grip, not letting it reach his face. There was only a tiny tremble as he brought the cup back up to his lips.

Jason paced. Then turned on Tim, eyes with just a hint of the green they didn’t talk about.

“You cannot bench me,” he spat.

“I’m not. I’m asking you, Jason.” Tim carefully set down the cup.

Jason frowned and this was the one chance Tim had to convince him, he had to make it count.

“He disappears as soon as you get within 20 yards of him. I will figure out a way to capture him, but I cannot do that when he keeps disappearing. I need you to hang back.”

Jason was wavering, his hands clenching and unclenching.

“Please.” Finally Jason sighed and the weariness was back, he sat back down heavily. Leaning his head on his hand he spoke quietly, “he needs help, Tim.”

Tim didn’t know what made Jason so certain of that, but Jason didn’t know what Tim suspected either, what the ghost could be building. 

“But first he needs to be stopped.”

There was a long moment of silence...

“I’ll hang back.”

“Thanks.”

-

Taadaa! The misery continues... Things will be coming to a head soon, I don't know if you can feel it? I just have to write a small Danny POV, and then Tim coming up with the plan and then we'll get into it, it's exciting.

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