#or when Bruce calls in Constantine to help him move on

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Wing!fic

Only very few people are born with wings. Even less with the ability to use them to fly.

Jason has both but kept them hidden for various reasons.

When he comes back to Gotham as the Red Hood and is spotted by some of his (ex) family, they think he’s an… actual angel.

That… works in Jason’s favor. For some reason.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage

The thing is, Tim didn't mean to put it on. He was just kind of playing with it to keep his hands busy while he was thinking about the recent murder case. GCPD had their hands full with the serial robbers that didn't rank high enough to catch Batman's attention, and Tim never had a problem with helping the police if he had time.

And the ring was a perfect fidget toy, if he is being honest. Small and plain enough not to distract him, but the round stone in the middle was loosely attached, making it able to spin inside the frame. Which is what he did, again and again, like those fidget spinners.

Of course, he was just destined to drop it sooner or later. And then, when he reached under the table to pick it up, his finger caught inside the ring, and, well.

The ring was now firmly on his finger.

The problem was that he couldn't take it off.

It wasn't stuck, at least not in the general sense of it - Tim could easily spin it around, and it wasn't tight. But it wasn't loose either, and as soon as he tried to move it past the knuckle, the ring heavily disagreed, almost like shrinking down and absolutely refusing to be detached.

Barbara suggested soap, which didn't work. Dick tried for a more mechanical approach, first with pliers and then with a laser, which the ring resisted with no effort. Cass, who was actually the one who brought the damned thing into the Cave after one of her adventures in Hong Kong, just smiled and shrugged, which was of no help either. Damian offered to cut the finger off, which probably would have helped, but Tim rather liked all his limbs attached.

Bruce called Constantine. The magician took one look at the ring, barked a humorless laugh, and pat Tim on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Congrats, mate," he said, a wry smile on his lips, "I hope you file for divorce."

Although, while all the rest of the Bats and Birds devolved into fits of hysterical laughter (Steph), indignant sputtering (Damian), and cries of outrage (everyone else sans Alfred, who was pointedly unimpressed), Tim couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. Really, his life had been a shitshow since he was around ten. It's not like he didn't expect himself to be accidentally married to some otherworldly magical creature by this point.

The worst part - worse than the actual engagement, that is - was that Constantine couldn't exactly tell them who the spouse was.

What he did say was that the Ring belonged to the King of Infinite Realms, Keeper of Unseen Worlds, and Eyes of Universe. But those were only titles, and, as John Constantine begrudgingly admitted, there has been a change in the management recently, so no one really knew what the new almighty monarch looked like or what they were, much less their whereabouts.

"You can't blame me for not being keen to find out, though," John said, wincing, "The last one was a bloody tyrant, and the Realms operate under the right of conquest rule."

At least, the mage assured them that since the being had not yet come to collect their shiny new spouse, they might never show up at all. The Ring has been lost for ages after all, so maybe the King didn't even remember having one. Or, the previous King didn't, and the new one didn't know about or didn't care.

The first week after the incident, they spent anxiously researching and worrying. Bruce even went as far as making Tim wear a tracker at all times, which was not great, but he did appreciate the gesture. Kind of.

After the first month with no sign of any changes, the worry started to abate. In half a year, most of the family stopped trying to keep an eye on Tim at all times lest he suddenly disappeared. Two years later, even Tim himself treated the Ring as a natural part of his daily life. The stone inside was still a great fidget toy, engagement or not.

Three years, one month, and five days after Tim first put the Ring on his finger, when the world was falling apart and breaking in front of him and there was not a single thing he could do to stop it anymore, Tim pressed his lips to the cold, dark strip of unknown metal on his finger.

"Whoever you are, I don't even care, please," he whispered in a useless prayer, his voice hoarse and his throat dry, "please, help."

And the world came to a stop with a short, amused chuckle.

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask."

[part 2 ->]

[bet-on-me-13]

Lego Batman is just Danny's toys

So! It's a basic AU where Danny is De-Aged and sent to Gotham to be raised by Bruce Wayne. Of course he's still a kid, so he has toys. And his Favorites are Legos.

He takes a bunch of Lego's and makes a mini recreation of Gotham, and then starts playing with a Batman Lego Figure and makes up a bunch of fun adventures for Lego Batman to be in.

Unfortunately, he didn't realize that he was unconsciously infusing his Lego Pieces with Ectoplasm. And he didn't notice when the Pieces started moving and talking on their own.

...

Bruce is...confused.

Originally, he had walked into his youngest son's room to say hi, but when he found the ground littered with all of his toys he decided to help Alfred a little by cleaning it up himself.

But when he picked up the little Batman Figure, it spoke to him.

"Hey! Put me down you inconveniencably gigantic fleshy version of me!" Said a Tiny but gravelly voice.

"Uh, who are you?" Asked Bruce

"Uh, are you blind Giant man? I'm The Batman!!!" Said the mini figure, "Now out me down or I'll use my insane muscles to clobber you!"

"Well this is weird..." Said Bruce, "I should call Constantine, see what he thinks of this."

"I warned you!" Screamed the mini figure, before it karate chopped his Fingers. For some reason it actually hurt a lot, and Bruce dropped the figure.

It then ran away from him, and under the door. "You'll never Catch, THE BATMAN!!!" It shouted as it escaped into the Manor.

This may be a problem...

[hpgal]

DC X DP: My Specter Roommate

CW: none

Tldr: Tim has a few odd experiences in his apartment only to learn he doesn't live alone.

Word Count: 417

Sometimes, it is easier to have space from everyone at the Manor. It is easier to decompress and take a breather from the madness the manors' halls can sow. That's why Tim got an apartment near Wayne Enterprises' main office.

It was well worth the investment and wasn't bad either. It was a two bedroom, one bathroom, close to the tower, cheap for the area and between him and all his siblings offering to help, secure.

No one would've bat an eye if he just used trust fund money or asked Bruce to pay for it, but Tim wanted to try to do this on his own. After all, he was old enough to vote, might as well act like an adult, and learn to live like it. The arrangement was kind of nice, however lonely too.

And that loneliness is why he didn't immediately call Constantine or some other magic user hero after coming to the conclusion his apartment was haunted. It took an embarrassingly long time for Tim to notice it, perhaps because he doesn't spent as much time here as he thinks he does between running WE and his night job.

The specter seemed harmless enough in Tim's opinion. He first noticed the strangeness when he was certain he left dirty dishes in the sink the night prior only to wake up and find them not only cleaned but put away too. He thought it was just his mind tricking him then so he carried on with his day only feeling uneasy if anything.

The next noticeable sign he was being haunted was when he set his coffee down on his desk and walked away to take a phone call. When he returned, the cup was significantly less and on the opposite corner where he left it. Maybe he mindlessly moved it or drank it while on the phone?

If it was a ghost, kind of rude, but ok, at least they didn't knock it over the case file he was reading.

His final confirmation was finding an envelope on the coffee table with a note and $100 in it.

Dear Tim,

I'm sorry for stealing your coffee, I decided I like it here and need a new haunt. Hope 100 is good enough for this months rent

DP

Not only was his roommate a ghost, but a polite one. Tim was so tired from his night job he didn't even care, just shrugged and decided it was tomorrow's problem and went to bed.

---

a/n: Found this in my drafts, don't remember where the plot was going so enjoy this little drabble. If I figure out where to go with this I'll make a part 2.

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

There's no "I" in Team but there are two in Migraine

Bruce had no issue with teamwork, despite what his children and colleagues might think. Teamwork was great. If done properly it was efficient, and it was good to have backup. Competent backup, at least. 

Bruce helped found the Justice League. Obviously he was a supporter of teamwork. 

However. 

Some teams he really could have happily lived out his life without them ever existing. 

He had a list. 

One: Dick and Clark Kent

Clark had been the first hero he had introduced Dick to. It was a move he had regretted ever since. 

He was glad the two of them got along, of course, but did they have to get along so well? 

He could withstand torture but the two sets of sad puppy eyes attacking at the same time was on another level altogether. 

Two: The Titans

Pros: Dick was making friends. 

Cons: Dick was either away with his friends, or they came home with him. Really, all Bruce wanted was to spend one week without putting out any fires caused by teenage superheroes. Literal fires, not metaphorical ones. Well, actually there were plenty of those kind too. 

Three: Dick and Jason

When Bruce first brought Jason home he wasn’t sure how Dick was going to react. And so maybe he panicked slightly and didn’t end up telling him for three weeks. In his defense, the voicemail he had left asking Dick to call him soon was left before the newspaper article came out. 

Perhaps not his best moment. 

Eventually, though, the two boys were introduced. 

There was some yelling that took place, mostly directed at him, but other than that things seemed to go rather smoothly. Assuming, that is, that smoothly meant neither of them seemed to care about getting to know the other one, and mostly kept to themselves and their own activities. 

And then, four months, two weeks, and five days after Jason first came to the manor, Bruce came home to discover the two of them had bonded over some unspoken activity that neither were willing to divulge. Alfred knew and didn’t disapprove so it couldn’t be that bad, but from then on out it was…well…

Bruce began the daily habit of checking his blood pressure. 

Four: Talia al Ghul and Lois Lane

Bruce didn’t know how the two of them had met and he didn’t want to. See, Dick, he was okay with not knowing things. Sometimes. In this one instance, at least. 

Five: Dick and Slade Wilson

Worst three weeks of his life. 

Six: Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn

He was happy for them, he really was. He just wished they could be happy together somewhere less structurally damaging. 

Seven: Jason and Harley Quinn

Explosion therapy was not a thing, despite both their arguments otherwise. They didn’t even give him a Joker effigy to blow up. They could have at least asked. He would have happily paid for that one and all the rest of them. 

Eight: Tim and Barbara

 He wasn’t that old. He knew how to use his computer. 

Nine: Jason and Cassandra

Too competent. They should never have been allowed on the same team for any game ever. If he heard one more complaint from any of his other children he was going to seriously lose it. 

And then there was that one time the two of them disappeared for a week and no one, not even himself or Clark, could find them. They had turned back up with grins and minimal injuries, and Bruce had tried to not investigate, he really had. But he needed to know, regardless of how much he regretted it later. (A lot. He regretted it a lot.) 

Ten: Dick, Jason, and Constantine

Bruce hated magic. 

Eleven: Jason, Diana, and Barry Allen

No one knew how or why the three of them had teamed up. It had been four months of secret meetings and pointed looks and minor heists that couldn’t technically be traced back to them but Bruce knew. And then there was the regular day-to-day hero-ing. Diana, he could understand. That’s what she did. Jason? Had always been vocally opposed to getting too involved with the Justice League, but had also always looked up to Diana, so maybe that was understandable? Allen? The man was retired. And he wasn’t suddenly out of retirement for some reason, no. He was just there to “lend a hand” to the other two. 

At least Bruce could comfort himself in knowing Jason was spending time with two respectable individuals. It was certainly a step up from his unfortunately ongoing acquaintance with Rayner. 

Twelve: Stephanie and Hal Jordan 

They should never have been allowed to meet. It was a disaster. For Bruce. 

Jason had been the one to introduce them, as he had proudly let Bruce know after the first breaking news cycle hit.

Thirteen: Duke and Damian 

Bruce would have told Jason how thankful he was that he was acting as the moderating adult influence with those two if he didn’t think Jason would start doing the opposite out of spite. 

Jason would make a great parent someday. 

Bruce would love a six month vacation. 

Fourteen: Alfred and Martha Kent

He didn’t really need to explain this one, right? Everyone could just move on, continue with their lives and so on and so forth. 

Fifteen: Damian and Batcow

Because a boy needs a cow and a cow needs an emotional support duck, turkey, cat, dog, rabbit, goat, and raccoon. Apparently. Tim and Jason were, in Bruce’s opinion, far too enthusiastic to provide research as evidence whenever needed (or not needed, as was usually the case). 

[mokulule]

Almanac - Chapter 2

So ya'll have given me some amazing and lovely comments on A Man has Needs (which I'm delighted was so well-received), and I had a really shitty day so I wanted to upload something. Sadly don't have energy to write, but this was already done so here ya go. Ship: Dead on Main First | Masterlist

Chapter 2 - September 25th, Uranus at Opposition

Jason awoke slowly. He felt groggy and worn like he’d gone a round with Bane and, now that he thought about it, maybe also Black Canary; his ears of all things hurt for some reason. Groaning he pushed himself up, taking in the green and black bedspread… this wasn’t his bed. He looked around; bare stone walls with a strange almost purplish tint - no windows he could leave out of.

What happened yesterday? There had been something… an emergency? Shit. He rubbed his brow hoping against hope to relieve the sharp headache there. What kind of truck hit him? Come on brain, work.

Bruce.

Bruce had called him. He breathed slowly through his nose. Urgh, his brain was like a tangled ball of yarn that had been left to the mercies of a cat. Slowly he picked at the treads, trying to untangle them. Dick had been there, and Tim and Damian. And Superman? Why was Jason on a league mission? Jason wouldn’t have joined them unless the world was-

Oh, the world had been ending.

There was an invasion and John bloody Constantine and a ritual- and Jason was a small bit of supernatural insurance but that didn’t matter because-

Because!

His head throbbed sharply and he curled up on the bed with a whimper. Shit. Why? Okay, no remembering right now. He slowly unfolded and squinted at the room, there were two doors. One by the head side of the bed, which seemed the least likely to lead outside and one opposite. He confirmed the first door to be a bathroom, which left the other to lead- He opened the door into a windowless hallway. Looking left and right he didn’t see an end either way.

The hallways had the same purple tinted stone walls as the room. It was lit by green torches, but somehow they didn’t cast green light. Instead the light that hit Jason was more blueish. He decided not to think about that and moved on.

He walked hallway after hallway. The only change was the tapestries. Since they were the only thing that changed he couldn’t help but look at them. There was a man, large and armored with a flaming crown and his hand raised with something shining from it. Jason went down some stairs and another hallway had a tapestry with the same character directing an army of skeletons and other creatures fleeing from them. This theme continued through many hallways. World upon world, the king and his army conquering all on a backdrop of Lazarus green. Then finally something changed, seven robed figures stood over the fallen king.

Jason then stood in front of a winding stairwell: Up or down?

He looked down; there was something down there…

Dazed, he took a step down, before he shook his head and walked up. He had to get out. Walking down in a building he didn’t know what floor he was on was just asking to be trapped in some sort of basement, and he’d already walked down one staircase already, when the only other option had been to backtrack.

A sarcophagus was opened and the King released. In the next hallway someone in a black and white mech suit was fighting the king and Jason blinked at the sudden genre shift. He hadn’t expected that from the tapestry story.

The next one had several people pushing the sarcophagus closed again presumably to seal the king, but one figure especially niggled at Jason’s brain - the small one, the black and white one. He was familiar. He walked faster, urgency pressing him to find the next tapestry, he rounded a corner and there!

There were two tapestries on either side of a door. The first tapestry had a purple robed figure crowning a kneeling black and white figure in front of a crowd. Several were recognizable from the previous tapestry. But Jason didn’t look at that picture long he was drawn to the last tapestry; the one who only showed the new king:

Human skin tone, compared to all the light greens and blues. Snow white hair. Crown hovering over his head, and on the index finger on his right hand where it was folded over his chest was a green ring with a skull crest. The backdrop was a nebula of colors and only on the edges were the Lazarus green. The king’s eyes were closed, but Jason knew they were green.

He knew.

And as a key turning in a lock Jason remembered. He bent over holding his head with a groan. The invasion. The ghost king. His sacrifice, which apparently meant he was to do nothing for the rest of his life. Screw that! What was the ghost king gonna do? Un-save the world? Jason didn’t think so. He needed to get out. He very carefully avoided thinking of the risk of his brains melting out his ears if he angered the king again.

The door. Jason’s eyes snapped to it. It looked completely innocuous. He had been lead here for a reason. Fight or flight? Fight his body screamed at him. His chest rose and fell, his heart picked up speed in anticipation and he reached for the brass handle. His hand closed around it, it was cold and solid in his grip. He exhaled slowly out his nose counting down.

3

2

1

He burst into the room, hands on hidden knives, ready for anything! Then he froze.

This was the room he woke up in. There was that rumpled spot on the bedsheets from where he’d slept. He grabbed his head, there had been no tapestries in the hall he stepped out in, he was sure. No he was not gonna let this get to him he had to find a way out. He stepped out into the hallway through the still open door; the tapestries were gone.

He walked the opposite direction this time, but only five turns in he stood in front of the open door again. Shaking his head he kept walking, there had to be a way out. There were less tapestries now, but every now and then there’d be a tapestry of the King sans crown fighting someone. It seemed to be some of the more prominent people that had been at the coronation and then there were some others; a large plant creature, a person that looked part tornado, someone who looked like the night sky itself.

The message was clear: give up. See all the ones who has been defeated. What do you think, you can do?

Jason punched the wall next to the most recent tapestry.

“Let me out, you bastard!” he snarled.

Predictably there was no answer, but a small part of Jason had still hoped something would happen. His shoulders dropped.

A familiar door materialized in the corner of his eyes. He turned his head to better see and yup, that was the door alright. He sighed.

“Fuck you.” But Jason was tired. He didn’t know how long he’d walked the hallways. He opened the door and walked the few steps that took him to the bed collapsing on top of it, in the spot he’d made earlier. He couldn’t be bothered to go under the covers.

Oo o oO

They say doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result is a sign of insanity. Tim would probably argue something about scientific methods and statistics in return, but Tim wasn’t here, just Jason.

So here’s what Jason knew:

He’d sacrificed his life to the Ghost King to save the world. The Ghost King had no interest in Jason and had just dropped him in a never used room like one of those gifts you really don’t want but can’t refuse. Oh, and the castle was magical and delighted in showing him right back to his room every time he left it.

Leaving the room was pointless. Jason knew it was pointless. But Jason couldn’t just stay in this room, hence the repeated insanity, but at least out in the hallways some things changed, even if he always ended up where he started.

He didn’t know how long he’d been there. He’d lost count of how many times he’d slept. It was pointless anyway, he didn’t know if he could even count sleeps as days anyway. He was locked in a battle of wills with a fucking castle.

“For a magical castle, you’re boring, you know that?” He spoke to the ceiling. It didn’t even have any enchanted furniture or household items to talk with.

Jason wasn’t sure quite when he’d started feeling hungry, only that it shouldn’t have taken that long. Water came out of the tap in the bathroom, so at least he wasn’t thirsting. After the hunger came the lethargy. He was sleeping more and his forays out into the hallways were shorter.

The world was a hefty price to pay and maybe Jason’s suffering was just a part of his toll, but Jason would have taken being a servant or slave over this. At least then he’d have something to do. There’d be a focus, something to fight. He wouldn’t just lie here with nothing better to do but insult the walls.

next

-

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[suspiciousspacecrustacean]

What if Batman dies, not lost in the timestream, not a clone, not a failsafe, or gone to an alternative reality, he died, for real. They have his body

The Bat family knew it was something that could happen (with all the conflicts Bruce used to be in, it was more of when rather than if) but that doesn't mean that they would leave it at that, Alfred had already be gone for quite a while, they couldn't also lose Bruce.

So they start looking, not all at the same time nor in the same place or with the same determination, after all some of them have to keep Gotham safe and take the mantle of Batman every now and then to keep the crime rate down but they look nonetheless even if it is to get closure.

One of them (the one you like the most) decide to look for his soul, if they cannot find that he is alive they could find if he is dead, fortunately (or unfortunately), his soul is not in any realm of the dead, so with a new lead, they try to find where is his soul, maybe they could help him get back to his body.

The new lead leads them to a small town called Amity Park, when they arrive they start hearing of stories of ghost and not too long after that they can see them, maybe Bruce's soul really is in here, but they wonder why hadn't they heard of these ghost until now (Maybe clockwork intervention, maybe the GIW).

They try to look for Bruce's soul, but they cannot identify it between the ghost that regularly attack, makes sense, even in dead Bruce wouldn't be attacking or be seen so easily.

They bring a magician to be able to locate his soul (Raven, Constantine, Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Captain Marvel, whoever you want) and they pinpoint his soul to a school, weird place for his soul to be, but they where so close to finding him, to getting all of this over and moving on.

Only to find out, that Bruce had reincarnated, he was a teenager (the same age of Damian or Tim), had family, friend and in general a good life unrelated to being a vigilante/superhero, it's not like they could take this from him.

Danny had noticed the group of vigilantes that had arrived to Amity Park, he didn't know why had they arrived now or what where they looking for, he just hoped they would get away soon, he had way to much on him to worry from a group of vigilantes being overshadowed.

[luffyrose]

Dp x Dc Blurb #5 (I think)

SO SO HAD THIS THOUGHT WHILE MAKING MYSELF FOOD!

We know, well, fandom kinda goes that ghosts form when around ectoplasm as well as have a strong enough desire to make a core. And Gotham is like Amity but less ley line more murder (so not as good ecto but still just as much, have to be a stronger ghost in general to be fine there).

Martha and Thomas Wayne are very much the type of people to come back as ghosts. No vengeance, no protection. They just wanted to see how Bruce, their little Brucie, grew up. They just wanted Family.

And that's exactly what they got!

They were thrilled when Alfred filled the role of father, even if he later claimed to just be a butler. Dick appearing in their lives was one of the happiest moments, how they wished they could tell him that his parents wished him well before moving on a few years later. Jason was adorable! Though it was upsetting to watch the other two begin too fight. It was even worse to find Jason joining them, even temporarily. Tim was a blessing to the family, keeping it from fully falling apart, and oh how they wished they could help all their little boys, because they knew where they all were and how they were feeling at all times.

With each addition they were thrilled for the large family, yet sad they could never interact, never help. Jason could sense them, but he'd only gotten help with his illness recently, poor child, he was still so ill.

The two Waynes had been there for it all. Watching, wishing, and gently tucking each of the boys in, even when they were far away from home.

But something was still missing. Both could feel that frail bond reaching out for another part of their family. A young boy they discovered while following it. He was about Damian's age, and could see them! He didn't seem aware he was adopted, let alone had a family waiting for him, but he also seemed so overwhelmed. The two decided to watch him but leave their little Danny alone. At least, they would until he was in danger.

And just like with the rest of the family, danger came.

It was just a random afternoon when they'd felt the pull of panic from the half ghost child, yet they couldn't leave Gotham so quickly. Bruce and Dick had a fight for the first time in a long time and...well it wasn't pretty and left ALL of the other children worried and confused.

So with the ectoplasm they'd gotten with their growing family, and even visiting their halfa on occasions, Martha and Thomas Wayne decided to do something about it.

The mansion was haunted. For the last few days things had been going completely haywire with no reasonable explanation but ghosts, or magic, but from what they knew the two went pretty hand in hand. So they decided to call Constantine to figure out why.

None of them expected Bruce's parents. Especially when they told them they needed to go save their brother Danny...a name that one particular batkid hadn't heard in a long time.

~~~

Open ended on which one, but sibling of batkid implied.

Martha and Thomas kept getting stronger with each kid Bruce adopted/got, Steph and Barbara inculded, and could feel a semi-frayed bond with one of the kid's biological brother and it led to Danny 🤗

They didn't plan to introduce themselves since the boy seemed happy enough despite the stress, they did not really see what his homelife was like. It was only after they felt something happen through their bond (which because they have obsessions based around family they can sense their own family) that they realized something was wrong and decided a good ol fashion haunting to catch their attention so they could find a way to tell them to get their brother.

[celmian]

"Cooking for Alfred" Damian Wayne x OC's short fanfic.

/Adult Damian (University)

/warnings/ Dirty joke, (18+) language/

Hi, first of all this is just one of the part of the main fanfic I have been written. The oc is now dating Damian and she wants to cook for Alfred on his birthday. You can follow-up the main story in AO3. The fanfic is called 'Damian Wayne x OC : Hunting the witch'. English is not my first languages so, I hope I didn’t mess up anything.

Also, the oc name is Celine Constantine. She is John Constantine's daughter. Hope you enjoy.

_________________________________________

“…Celine, didn’t you used to tell me that you know how to cook?”    “Well, cooking is not baking...”    A picture of two teenagers approaching adulthood walking chaotically in the kitchen… Around the counter island there was powder and the egg panels all over were probably a strange sight that happened in Wayne Manor…a sight that Alfred Pennyworth would not have allowed to happen in normal situations because he wouldn't have to bother cleaning up the mess later. 

...but today is Alfred's birthday. 

  So Celine has a crazy idea. As a resident, she wanted to give him a surprise. So, they have Bruce take the old man into town while the two young men,Celine and Damian, prepare a homemade birthday cake for the butler. The witch Constantine claims to have worked behind the stove at Fine Dining restaurant before...Damian doesn't know in which position. But from the looks of it, she isn't a dessert chef definitely... 

“...Okay, I'm just one of those people who helps prepare the cold kitchen where they serve appetizers and such...but back when I'm in London, I always cook for myself. I just never made dessert. That’s all.” The girl immediately defended her cooking skills. “The pasta with grilled vegetables that you ate the other day was made by me...” With that, both of her hands are now placed on the hips..    “Really?”    Damian Wayne had known that his girlfriend liked to help Alfred prepare food…but he thought she might just be chopping vegetables, preparing meats, whatever like that. Instead of making her own menu like she claimed. 

…The other day, the pasta that Damian packed to eat at university for lunch was so delicious that he asked Alfred to make it a daily menu. The old man smiled suspiciously. It wasn't him who made it, but it was the witch. 

“…Shall we make pasta instead then?” the young man suggested as his head recalled the rich flavor of the fresh pasta and grilled mushrooms, he had eaten the day before…    “It's Alfred's birthday, Damian. We must make a cake...”  

“But the others will come here soon…we have to prepare other kind of food anyway. Why don't you go take care of the savory and leave me here with the cake?” Both Richard Starfire, Raven the witch, and Stephanie Brown...including Tim Drake will be here today for the old man’s birthday. So, if they both waste time on one cake, they won't get anything done into pieces. The young man waved his hand and chased his girlfriend away from his dessert making area, earning a look of pouty face from Celine Constantine. 

"..You? Are you sure you know how to bake?" The girl looked at her boyfriend's face judgmentally... 

“Better than you do.” His hand moved towards the first cake that had been baked, which was so crumbly and incomplete that the whole thing had to be thrown into the trash… Only then the black-haired witch calms down and walked away to do her own duties as well... 

A long time had passed and the whole kitchen was quiet…no sound except the sound of boiling water, the sound of beating eggs, and other sounds of cooking. Celine walked back around to find her boyfriend in the dessert kitchen area, which was also quiet. She saw him in an apron Standing and squeezing cream into a round disc of something. With diligence and expert look. The young girl watched as those slender, beautiful fingers gently put the round plates together. so, she couldn't help but tease him about how skilled he was. 

“You make macarons? Wow. I didn't know that I slept with the Master Chef of dessert every day.” ...This French dessert is so hard to make. Even Celine couldn't make it through just baking a cake...but this Baby Bat showed off his skills in making macarons? Why he’s so annoyingly talented? 

Damian didn't answer…he shook his head and wiped the sweat from his chin. That's when the young girl came to help. using the handkerchief that was placed on his shoulder to wipe away the sweat that was flowing down the small frame of his chin before smiling at the face's owner.    “..Does this mean that if we get married you will be the househusband? Hmm? Dami?” 

“Dream on.” Damian shook his head, expanding his words as he looked proudly at the work on the table. “...Housework is a duty that we must help on both sides. And I have to go to work…Father's company will soon be mine. If I only act as your butler, who will run the company? Hmm, Celine?” Those words weren't very serious... The young man kissed his girlfriend's head as a thank you for helping him wipe his face before walking off to explore the savory side..    “…You....You make a heck lot of pasta.” Deep voice hurriedly commented on the amount of fresh pasta that the young girl had prepared in a pot for the people coming to the party to eat.   “Well, don't you remember the last time Dick ate the entire pot of meatballs by himself?” Celine reminded the young man of Bruce's birthday back in the middle of the year when the eldest of the family accidentally ate a meatball that Alfred had made for everyone all by himself.  “You’re right. Richard must have eaten it all by himself.” Damian Wayne immediately agreed…he nodded before quickly helping his girlfriend clean up the kitchen. Prepare a plate for the guests who will be coming to the old butler's birthday dinner in a few hours. 

In the evening, Bruce, Alfred and Stephanie, who went to help Bruce, arrive at the manor with Damian, Dick, the two girls from Titans, and Tim Drake is waiting. Of course, Damian briefly relents with Tim to stop his eldest brother from eating all the food before the birthday owner arrives.    The old man walked into the house, filled with joy. Starfire and Raven were the ones who brought out the cake. The remaining people sang songs of blessing to the talented butler. Damian stood and applauded silently. Dick sings off-key and loses his voice as Stephanie tries to save the song from crisis but failed. And after Alfred blew out the candles, they all gathered around the grand dining table of the mansion that was full of guests today…    “..This pasta is very delicious. Miss Celine, did you do it yourself?” The old butler was happy… that today he didn't have to prepare huge quantities of food himself. But what will the condition of the kitchen be like? This is something to worry about.    “Yes.” Celine smiled as she proudly watched Richard gobble down her pasta from the pot… 

“...What about macarons? Did you make it yourself? It's just as delicious as the one my friend brought from France.” Tim tried to compliment the new girl in the Bat House that he hadn't talked to much before Damian put down his fork and a smile curled his lips. It was then that Red Robin knew exactly who the person that made this tray of macarons was. “Oh my gosh…”  Tim shook his head, his hand hurriedly put down the dessert… but after a while he reluctantly picked it up and ate it again.    “Wanna bet on who made the cake?” On Dick's side, his hand was still holding the fork around the pasta. Turning to Bruce, who had been eating quietly by himself for a long time… The Dark Knight shook his head. Looking at the large chocolate cake with candles that had been sliced ​​up by Raven and Starfire for the party. Those blue eyes looked at the cake for just a moment and then responded immediately. 

“It’s Damian, obviously.”    “But I think it’s Celine,” Dick quickly bets against…    “..Ahem, Master Bruce, Master Richard. Gambling is not a good behavior to do on this kind of celebration....”  The birthday man sitting next to Bruce couldn't help but cough after hearing that conversation… He took the cake from Starfire and held it in his hand before considering it without tasting it. “I think they both do it together.”    “Accept the bets” Nightwing gave the old man a challenging smile before turning and asking to the two young men who the winner of this bet would be… “Hey! Little D! Celine! Who made this cake?”    “It’s Damian.” …and the answer from the young witch made Alfred stunned because even though he was the one who taught Damian how to bake, he had no idea that the boy would be able to use what he had taught him to do it all by himself. Dick was annoyed but managed to get a smile from Bruce as the old butler and Nightwing took a cash from their pockets and paid the manor a bill each. 

…and soon after the cakes, pasta, macarons, and all sorts of food were eaten by the people in the house, most of whom was Dick, the guests gradually left. They left Alfred a gift. Stephanie left the baking equipment. Damian gives him a cookbook. Dick gives him a new suit. Raven and Starfire buy him a new portable oven. Bruce gave him gloves and a winter coat, but Celine unexpectedly gave the same book as her boyfriend… 

“Damn, I didn't know we were going to buy the same book... and it's the exact same one but in a different language,” the young witch complained about when Alfred has to have the exact same gifts but in difference language without nobody knowing it beforehand. “...And why are you buying a Chinese text cookbook? Shouldn't those things have to be transported by ship?” The two young men were cleaning up the house while Alfred was sent to sleep by Damian. Meanwhile, Bruce handles company work before leaving on late-night patrol. And Celine complains loudly about the gift she has just given the old butler. 

“...Chinese recipes should be read in Chinese. Do you think Pennyworth couldn’t read Mandarin?” Damian frowned at the witch's question. She usually likes to buy books about the same story but in different versions or sometimes in different languages. But today she suddenly complains to him about it… “You can't read Chinese? Can’t you?” So, the young man made this assumption.    …and damn, Damian Wayne really has good instincts for matters that don't matter. 

The girl rolled her eyes, and the young man knew immediately that she was complaining about the whole Mandarin language stuff because she couldn't read it herself…    “I swear to you. Damian…if you start speaking Chinese to me. I'm going to suck your dick until it's rotten-”    “-下流 (Xia Liu)” …and of course, the mouthy young man wasn't easily fazed by that threat. He chuckled before starting to spit Chinese at the other person after knowing that she wasn't good at it...well, he's always been like this...loves competition like a psychopath.    “坏蛋 (Huai Dan)” But then the black-haired witch immediately shot back… she put down the powder box she was holding and put it on the countertop with a look of trouble on her face amidst the young man's bewildered expression.    “..I thought you couldn't speak Chinese?”    “When did I say I couldn't speak Chinese? I just couldn't read it.”  Celine raised her eyebrows with a defiant expression on her face…    “Then from now on, I'll send you a text in Chinese-”    -wad!    And then the box of powder that had been put down in the first place flew towards Damian Wayne immediately as he continued to annoy her. The witch already knew that an ex-assassin like him would definitely be able to catch that thin cardboard box. So, she crossed her arms over her chest, as her boyfriend caught it with precision and looked towards her.    “Did you know…one of your bad habits is throwing things when you don't get what you want?” Damian had seen Celine throw a pillow or sometimes an entire cigarette box at her father...sometimes she had a good reason for doing that. Sometimes there is no reason at all. Celine Constantine was spoiled rotten by her irresponsible father. But she is a spoiled person who knows that she has a bad personality…so Damian can accept it in somewhat of of way.

Because he's like that too.    “..So? Do you want me to describe your bad habits too?” The girl folded her arms across her chest and raised her head to look at her boyfriend with another look of trouble. 

“Go on…” The young man looked at those expressions. He didn't feel annoyed. Instead, he slowly walked towards his lover... a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his girlfriend smiled back and knew that he was definitely going to find something to get back at her... 

“Let's start with what? The size of your dick? I think it should be illegal-”  

“-Celine, we are talking about my bad personality, not what you like but denies that you don't like...” Damian, on the other hand, quickly used his strong hands to gather his girlfriend's mischievous body into an embrace...watching her laughing, pretending to run away but not getting anywhere.    “..So... What about your competitive personality? I swear, if I say I like a horse's cock, you will definitely going to lengthen it to compete with the hoarse-” 

Phew!!    ...and Celine's foul mouth made the arrogant boyfriend unable to bear it anymore. He took the box of powder in his hand that his girlfriend had thrown and dumped it on her head. He knew that Alfred would definitely curse him if he saw the kitchen floor right now. But believe him, it was very satisfying to see a person with a good mouth become silent because of the amount of flour stuck in her throat. She choked, the powders are now all over the sweet face attached to that bad mouth... 

But Celine Constantine wasn't the type to give in even in the most demanding situations… She turned and smeared the powder on her boyfriend's face. Smeared white powder on his perfect body. Damian is inferior. His hands scooped up the powders that had flown onto the counter and threw them all over his girlfriend's face, causing a small war in the kitchen. The one that ended up with Alfred walking in… The old man wanted to come get some water to quench his thirst after waking up late at night. Before coming to see his nightmare come true. Two young people threw cooking flour at each other. Rubbing each other's hair like it was a fun idea...Even Richard, at his most naughty age, had never done anything like this before...Then both young adults get warned by Alfred. Damian Wayne, who even used to be a child with a loudmouth that caused a lot of troubles, but he never caused any mischief like this before. So, he gets warned too. 

…but hey! At least this time Celine didn't start it.    Didn’t she?            “I got 1 point, and you got 0…” 

After fighting until they both were satisfied, the two young people came to take a dip in the water to clean themselves together after the war ended before Damian had to go on patrol with his father... Celine acts like a little kid who likes to play with a duck. She lets the plastic ducky float on the water in the tub. Damian was forced to watch her play with it while having his lover sit on his lap in the tub. 

“Why did I get 0 points when I really am the one who started it?” His thin lips gently kissed the shoulder of the person on his lap. His eyes looking at his wet girlfriend, he is frowning while asking...    "..It's easy because I'm the one giving the scores." Celine pinches her boyfriend's nose at the same time as squeezing the duck in her hand...it very well triggers a feeling of annoyance from her lover. A strong hand squeezed that round cheek, causing her to scrunch up until he had to let go before the two of them could continue their war in this bathroom.    “I think Pennyworth looks very happy… I have to thanks you for organizing this event for him today.” After pounding his girlfriend's face until he was satisfied, Damian Wayne hurriedly changed the conversation to the serious subject before Celine could react… Her expressions changed and nodded her head softly. Continue squeezing the duck in her hand instead of getting revenge on Damian... probably because she was thrilled that her idea made the old man smile this much. 

“...Come on, don’t act like you guys have never done this before…” Celine pouted a little while Damian's smile twitched slightly at the corners of his mouth before he looked away. 

“Actually… Normally we are all busy that no one takes the lead in this matter. Richard and Drake would just stop by for lunch on the day. Gave things to Pennyworth and left… We never got together like this. Until you are the one who suggested it.” ...It was probably the nature of Bat House to always forget the most important matters outside of their night duties… They often forgot the daily lives of those around them. It's something that almost every Bat member been.    “..So, I'm glad you chose to be a normal person and stay here with Pennyworth.” Ever since Celine Constantine entered the mansion, things had started to change a little… Even though she is that kind of person who don't celebrate her own birthday but she did it for others. After receiving Damian's first birthday present. She organizes a party for Bruce. And this time it was Alfred. She comes from the house of an occult detective but doesn't want to continue being the occult detective. Like she knew how lonely their careers were…she chose to be a normal person and spent her time doing things that Damian and the other Bats couldn't. Both are things that John Constantine couldn't do either. 

She chooses to spend time with those who she loves.    Celine gently touched her lover's face when she heard that. Her hand slid down his face before embracing it. 

“...Don't worry. Damian…Whatever you feel like you can't do or find it difficult to do. I will do it for you. You don't have to say or express everything to me. Just be with me, be happy…and I will do whatever you want to do for you.” A sweet voice whispered softly, kissing her boyfriend's forehead once...it was a voice that the young man felt calm after listening to. It felt like he didn't have to try so hard anymore…it felt natural. That would be more accurate to say... 

…Damian Wayne closed his eyes and immersed himself in that embrace for as long as he could. 

______________________________________

P.s.: Damian in this fanfic became softer after dating Celine and she moved in his manor because she decides to study at Gotham's university. Her back story made her father doesn’t celebrated her birthday because John Constantine didn’t celebrate his own birthdays too. Hopefully I will post more of them in the future.

P.s.2 : Yes, She has a foul mouthed like her dad lol

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Ghosts of Our Past: pt 11

DP x DC crossover

Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne sibling AU

Ao3

Masterpost Prev Next

It's Wednesday my dudes, here you go

---

Constantine: Ya better not be asking because the pajama party managed to both find one and piss it off.

Batman: That is not the situation.

Constantine: Can you leave it alone? If yes: do that!

Batman: I am simply asking for information.

---

"Coffee buddy!" Danny called as Tim (or did he prefer Drake? He'd heard him called both so maybe it was just whatever?) walked into the cave shortly after Alfred. Who was liminal but in a weird way... Danny was guessing he was just your standard immortal. Anyway! Tim looked like he hadn’t slept in the time between now and when Danny had last seen him.

"Coffee buddy!" Tim shouted, as dramatically as he did, then in more of a whisper, "You have to help me! Alfred has cut me off!"

Danny glanced at Alfred, who had definitely heard him. Nope! Not worth the risk! "I can guess why. I might be half dead, but at least I don't look it,"

Everyone tensed at the joke, the opposite of what Danny had been going for. Scratch that, everyone but Jason tensed. Jason let out a snort. "They don't think those jokes are funny,"

Danny pouted almost as much as Tim.

---

Jazz chose boots instead of heels. Armored HAZMAT instead of a blazer. Hair pulled tightly back instead of free and unthreatening. If her roommate was still awake, she'd probably mistake her for an intruder, but she was not, and Jazz was gone before that could change. Gotham was over a days drive away— but only if she insisted on obeying physics.

---

Danny had waited until later in the night to tell Damian "We should talk." And had Damian stiffened but agreed. Because of the lateness someone suggested that Damian guide his brother back to the hotel. While, again, Damian agreed, the tension did not lift. They moved silently until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

"I'm sorry." Danny "I should've come back for you, I was a coward, probably still am, but—"

"No— you’re not— Stop apologizing! I should be apologizing!"

The air was a swirl of bitter flavors, Danny gave a nervous laugh before starting. "It's fine— I mean, it's really not, but we were little kids and like, super brainwashed. So it's not purely your fault... I mean I don't blame you for it... anymore..."

"Just like that?" Damian's voice was small. Doubt was sour like inedible berries, honey sweet hope did little to balance it.

Danny sighed, "Dami, I've spent the last seven years trying to sort this out in my head. It's not 'just' like anything."

He turned around, his back to Damian as he climbed. "Like this, it freaks me out, and at first I thought you'd been hunting me, but you weren't and intentions matter."

Like all the ghosts who'd been teaching him how to ghost by lightly punting him, or his parents before the ectouranium incident. Damian had waited a moment before following him, putting enough distance between them that Danny didn't feel like his heart was going to leave his chest. Even if Danny wasn't actually that worried about being stabbed, he would be fine, he wouldn't even bleed if he didn't want to. Trauma was dumb like that though, and he appreciated Damian's patience.

His younger brother pulled himself up after him. "But I did. I meant to."

Guilt was another flavor Danny couldn't describe with human terms, but this specific guilt satisfied something entirely in-human inside him, a part that still hadn't let this death go. "And you did. But would you do it again?"

"No!"

"Then we're cool about that."

"And about you remaining hidden." Damian adds. "I would not have responded the same if you had returned to Nanda Parbat..."

"But you got out," Danny marveled. "I hadn't let myself hope, Dami... I'm so proud of you,"

Damian sniffled, and Danny pulled the younger boy into his arms.

---

Back in the cave, Bruce moved to the comms control panel, and silently hit mute. They didn't need anyone else listening in on this.

The league communicator buzzed.

Constantine: And you're sure it's a Doorway Spirit, not just a Barrier Spirit?

Batman: He said Doorway.

Constantine: Who said it?! Bats if someone is fucking around with one, ya lead with that!

---

Cleaning tears out of domino masks wasn't hard, but it did make one feel foolish. Danny seemed way too amused but the fact.

"They're designed to keep outside contaminants out. The usual amount of tears is minimal." Damian pointed out.

"It still seems dumb." Danny finished wiping his on the hem of his shirt. At least they both had hoods, otherwise they'd have to find a more secure location with fuzzy lenses.

"It is certainly an oversight." Damian agreed.

"Makes sense tho?"

"What does?"

"If you're having a crisis in the mask you probably should go home. And if you can't see, then it's gonna be hard to keep working."

"Sometimes we are still needed. It is something to improve."

Danny paused, mask still in hand. He looked Damian in the eye. "Even with all of you? It gets that bad?"

"There are times, it's not— Danny..." Damian took a step back.

"Is everything... oh, it's my eyes again isn't it." Danny flushed, and his eyes returned to blue. "That's just something that happens with me, it's not a sign I'm about to go all murdery or something."

Damian nodded slowly, Danny certainly seemed in control of himself, and earlier with Todd he'd focused on defense. That did not seem like someone under the influence of pit rage.

"I've got it on the list of 'things I need to explain at some point,'"

"You have a list."

"Yeah, I have a list, my life is weird. You should probably have a list too."

"I do not."

"I'm sorry?! Do you think I missed the Bat cave dinosaur?!"

---

Batman: Constantine. What do you know?

Constantine: for certain? Almost nothing. These guys are rare, and powerful.

---

"Why is there a magazine butt plate catch?" Jason asked, completely serious. Tim was too sleep deprived to not giggle.

"Replacement." Jason chided, almost sounding fond... Tim must be getting slap happy. Jason held up the offending piece of metal. "Where did this come from?"

"Probably from when Danny took apart the gun,"

"What?"

Tim was already pulling up the mask footage. They watched the two minute explanation, then, gun bits on the pavement.

"He didn't even look at it..." Tim realized, considering that the part on the table wasn't that easy to remove. He was also 90% sure you needed tools to take a gun apart that completely.

"You know what, that tracks." Jacen said, like he was aware of something Tim was not.

---

Batman: Do you want to have this conversation in person?

Constantine: *Read 1:46 AM*

---

"So... Do you play Doomed?"

"Tt, Of course,"

"Oh, so you're good at it." Danny inferred, hopping down onto the fire escape.

Damian followed, noting how the metal had been silent for Danny, but made a soft clank when Damian stepped. The more Danny relaxed the more effort Damian had to put into tracking his movements. "Of course,"

Danny made a mock-offended gasp, "You're just saying of course to be annoying!"

Damian hadn't been, he had been distracted by the almost unnatural stealth. However he did not say this. He gave a sly smile. "Of course,"

"Well then, I don't suppose you'd want to come in and meet my friends?"

The game had been a trap. Damian was not going to admit defeat so easily... and well, he did want to meet the people his brother chose to occupy his time with. "Of course."

Danny beamed as he led Damian to the hallway window. He pulled it open in a too-smooth way and Damian knew that opening windows from the outside did not work like that. It did not, however, even surprise him at this point.

"They're going to love you," Danny said, right before pain exploded in the back of Damian's head. Then, the world went black.

-

-

-

I've made an executive decision that nights in Gotham are longer than nights in nearby locations. Most people won't notice or will think it's their imagination, Amity kids noticed immediately but shrugged and decided that technically meant they got to sleep in.

I don't think it's actually gonna come up in fic, but like nearly every plot point in Gotham happens at night, and I'm implementing a "magic" system, so Gotham gets quirks.

1. I was gonna have bats find out that Dami did the stab here, but then I realized how much potential there was in Danny just casually mentioning it.

2. Danny figures, he told them what he was, so he's done putting a ridiculous amount of effort into being human.

3. Cliffhanger

4. Why does Ao3 add in automatic spacing in the chapter text but not the notes section? It's weirding me out

Tag list:

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[soulmate-game]

It was over. For real this time, it was done. Pink hair, darker with matted blood, splayed out on the broken gravel. The white and blue that usually cloaked the mysterious Bunnyx was stripped away, Miraculous lost in the battle.

They had known. He had known. Shadow Moth.

He had known when she would pop out of her burrow, and surprised the normally all-knowing hero. Viperion had fallen long earlier, the only reason Bunnyx had even been forced to get involved.

They lost. It was all lost.

Dust clogged the air, stagnant without any wind to send it anywhere. Suspended, in the lacking gravity that came from the battle. It hadn’t been Chat Blanc, and yet the moon was still naught but shards in a darkened sky.

There was no going back. She couldn’t find any of the Miraculous that could turn back time. Her earrings were still in, but Tikki was silent. Silent and still, where the Kwamii lay in her palms.

Plagg was awake, but despondent. He hadn’t said a word since Adrien’s heart stopped, since the transformation was ripped away from him. She wasn’t sure if he would ever speak again, the way he was looking at Tikki’s fragile, limp form.

And, as she once again was left staring at her own glass eyes and mangled body below her, she wasn’t sure it mattered. Shadow Moth— Gabriel— was dead. But so was everyone else. So was she.

The League had tried— in a fit of desperation, she had called them in. Called them to their deaths alongside her and her team. Only one remained standing, only one life still burning amongst the wreckage.

“… I’m sorry,” he whispered in the stagnant air. He was not without his own injuries, beat and bleeding to within an inch of his life. An inch that nobody else had left, but one that would still fizzle out without a hospital to tend to him.

“Maybe it’s the hallucinations that come with my concussion, or my lack of blood, but… I feel you there,” he continued his soliloquy, staring up at the rubble that once was the moon. “If I could still move, I’d grab the earrings and the ring. Constantine mentioned them before we headed over.”

She tilted her head at him, ripping her gaze from her own corpse. From what she could tell, she was the only ghost here. May as well give him the respect of hearing his last words.

“And I’d wish for a do-over. Nothing perfect, I’ve been disillusioned about getting a happily ever after. But this world deserves better. Longer. You should have had help, we should have insisted on providing more assistance— even from afar. Guidance. Something. And now look where our negligence landed us.”

She would wish, too. If she could still interact with the world. If she wasn’t intangible.

“Bruce,” he rasped. “If you really are there,” he seemed to actually find her then, staring right into her eyes. “There’s nobody for you to tell anymore. But my name is Bruce Wayne. If… if either of us get another chance, find me.”

He faded.

She waited until he was gone, no ghost remaining of him like she did. At least he could have someone by his side at the end.

She sighed, wondering why she was cursed to this lonely end. The wish… even if she could, she couldn’t grab—

A pebble shifted, and she froze.

A moment passed. She stomped down.

The gravel crunched under her foot.

The gravel.

Crunched.

She had never moved so fast in her entire existence.

—*—*—*—*—*

He looked different without a half-burned cowl struggling to hide his chiseled jaw. She watched through the window as he tiredly swept his fingers through his hair.

“Who am I meeting with, again?” He asked his assistant, who didn’t even glance at her clipboard before replying.

“MDC, the French designer who reached out about a partnership,” she recited easily. “The same woman who has been standing outside the door waiting for you to invite her in, because her appointment started five minutes ago.”

His head whipped up, and she couldn’t help but wave at him through the glass. When their eyes met, he jolted as if struck by lightning. His pupils shrunk— whether in fear or memory, she could not tell. What she did know, though, was that he scattered papers across the floor in his rush to stand.

“Y—“ he cut himself off, swallowing thickly and making a show of adjusting his blazer. “Miss MDC? Please come in.”

“Please, call me Marinette,” she insisted, finally stepping around the window and through the open door. After his assistant left and the door was closed, they stood in silence. Marinette had planned— stewed, really— for months about how this meeting would go. She had worked so hard for it, but what if he didn’t believe her? What if…

“You got it,” he whispered, a soft smile stretching across his lips as his eyes overflowed with wonder directed at her. “You got us a do-over.”

That startled a strangled laugh from her. He remembered. What kind of awful curse made him remember when not even Tikki and Plagg did?

“Somehow,” she agreed. “We have a lot to talk about, Bruce Wayne. Maybe even over dinner?”

His responding chuckle was deep and unfairly charming. “Relationships formed from trauma hardly pan out well, but why not? Can’t turn out any worse than the apocalypse.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Oh wow, maybe ao3 crashing affected me more deeply than I thought. Do I have a problem? I might have a problem lol.

[dcu-rarepair]

Day 2 Gifts

Eight more amazing gifts for Day 2! Head to the Collection to check them out, and view the Release Schedule to see what’s in store!

We also have a handy Commenting Guide to help our Giftees with showing their Giftors some love. And now, here’s today’s works: 

I Will Not Love You (But I Can, Somehow) for syrennetim

Dick Grayson/Jean-Paul Valley Rated T, No Archive Warnings Enemies to Lover, Jean-Paul as Batman Dick hates Jean-Paul. The only problem with that is that he loves him too. Or, Azrael murders someone and Dick helps Jean-Paul cover up his crimes.

Black, White and Red for Murmeloni

Harvey Dent/Jason Todd Rated G, No Archive Warnings Art

Call Me Hot (Not Pretty) for Shenanigans

Cissie King-Jones/Cassie Sandsmark (Young Justice Universe) Rated G, No Archive Warnings First Kiss, Gay Panic, Getting Together Cassie’s day had been anything but quiet and uneventful – it hadn’t even been eventful in the Young Justice way, just the Wonder Girl way, so subduing the sea monster on the docks had been entirely up to her. So, once she’d finished dealing with all that, one would really think her beloved team members may understand that she was exhausted and achy and not moving from her position on the couch for at least the next century, but no. Apparently not. Or; Fellas, is it gay to lovingly cradle your best friend’s face while you help them get something out of their eye

carve your name into my arm for FleetSparrow

Clark Kent/Selina Kyle Rated M, No Archive Warnings Trans Clark Kent, BDSM The thing is, Selina knows how to read people. She knows what they want and more importantly, she knows when they're lying to her. And that's the thing about this unassuming nerd hunched on her couch; he is lying to her. And he is dangerous. But he doesn't feel like a threat.

And Alan Makes Three for BookofOdym

Sanderson Hawkins/Henry King Jr, Henry King Jr/Alan Scott, Henry King Jr/Sanderson Hawkins/Alan Scott Rated E, No Archive Warnings Voyeurism, Light Dom/Sub Hank is dating Sandy. Hank is sleeping with Alan. When Sandy catches Alan and Hank together, Alan takes it upon himself to teach Sandy just how to fuck a twunk like Hank properly.

Lightning Rod for dxncingquxxr

Dick Grayson/Roy Harper/Wally West Rated T, No Archive Warnings Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence Wally, lost in the Speed Force, watches as his boyfriends have drifted apart more than they ever had before. He needs them together to escape, but he's unsure if this timeline will allow it. Really, he should learn that he has unending faith in his partners for a reason. - Rebirth but Dick/Roy/Wally and also only about them

Genesis 2:23 for TaxiCabToOwTown

Kon-El | Conner Kent/Lex Luthor Rated T, Warning for Underage Omegaverse, Dubious Science Most alphas would probably chafe at working under another alpha, instincts bristling at the perceived submission. Mercy doesn't care--everyone in Metropolis has Mr Luthor's boot on their throat, she might as well get paid handsomely for it. She could do without watching Mr Luthor throw scent at Superman and have it just slide off and Superman's poorly acted responses, but she guesses that's how they ended up here, in this subterranean lab.

Where the Light Shines Through for Ferox

John Constantine/Bruce Wayne Rated E, No Archive Warnings BDSM, Haunting Batman gives Constantine a severe look. “I asked you to meet me for your magical expertise. If you're too compromised to work, I’ll ask someone else.” “I'm fine. It's just a mild Drop. Which I tried to fix, by the way, but unfortunately it's impossible to get decent coke in your town. You should really lay off those poor, hardworking cartels. Anyway—” John crushes the butt of his cigarette under his heel, “—you said your friend needed help?” “Not my friend. A League benefactor.” Ha. John is smart enough to connect the dots. “Bruce Wayne’s got ghosts? Shocker.”

[eyes-of-mischief]

weekly fic recs | 43

prompt: resurrection

fandoms: bnha, dc, hq, mdzs, tgcf, tua, tw, yoi

bnha

help me leave behind some (reasons to be missed) by intheeveningsunrise

(mature)

The darkness had learnt not to swallow him whole, had learnt to dance with him as he felt the warmth enter his veins, and learnt to give him back.

Or, five times Izuku Midoriya kills himself, and one time he... well.

What the Fire Withheld: the Renaissance of Midoriya Izuku by orkestrations

(mature)

Toga, Twice, and Mr. Compress sneak into a morgue. This is the setup to the cosmic joke that is Izuku's life. Or, his re-life? His undeath? What's the proper term for his condition?

Maybe it's actually a bit earlier than that, when he bleeds out beneath Sir Nighteye's hands while Overhaul escapes with Eri.

-

or, the jason toddification of midoriya izuku

RE: Izuku by thecozydragon

(graphic depictions of violence)

Wheezing through the pain, staring down at the body of an opponent Izuku should reasonably never have been able to take alone at his current level, Izuku realizes he just discovered a latent quirk.

“Fuck.” Izuku hisses. “That’s the worst fucking quirk I’ve ever heard of.”

It only activates on death. You have to die first.

OR... Midoriya Izuku's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day.

dc

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

(graphic depictions of violence)

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.

When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.

But most of all, Tim is alone.

(If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)

The Next Life by spqr

“I don’t need an exorcism,” Tim says.

“I beg to bloody differ,” Constantine mutters.

Nobly, Tim elects to ignore him. “I want you to teach me.”

“Teach you what? Manners?”

“I already know manners,” Tim says, then barrels on as Constantine snorts in disagreement, “what I need to learn is necromancy.”

Never What You Were Before by Romiress

(mature)

Bruce Wayne is dead, and Gotham has moved on. Slade, for the most part, tries to stay out of it. He has enough work to do without having to take jobs near the Bats.

Until Red Hood calls him in to help, refusing to explain what he's found.

Maybe Wayne isn't as dead as he seems.

hq

one day i'll die by doxian

(major character death)

"What's happened to me?" Bokuto asks, confused.

Akaashi sits with his face in his hands for a long time. Then he straightens up and asks Bokuto: "Would you like to see where you were buried?"

Moon in Water, Flowers in a Mirror by PlumTea

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence)

When Oikawa turns up in the corner of his garden, crouched behind the bushes, Iwaizumi couldn't be happier. He'd lost Oikawa months earlier, but the long days of mourning are gone. Now he's back. Still, there's something odd about Oikawa, something that just seems wrong.

mdzs

in the land of gods and monsters by rikke

(mature) (major character death)

Lan Wangji was never supposed to die. Thirteen years later, the Yiling Patriarch rules the world with his corpse bodyguard.

Somewhere Sits an Empty Throne by Siamesa

(explicit) (major character death)

There is a dead man in the mountains.

A corpse in mourning robes, a ghost with bleeding fingers.  A power beyond measure, with too-pale eyes and red blood dripping down his throat. - In which Wei Wuxian finds himself brought back to life as a very confused god, stumbles into a revenge plot, and wants to know what's up with all these ghostly rabbits. - TGCF fusion, god!WWX/calamity!LWJ

tgcf

carousel: an endless cycle by potatopersonal

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence)

Frustration builds in his chest, an angry sob leaking from his mouth. It hurts, agitates his destroyed torso, but does it really matter?

His wishes don’t matter. His actions only hurt others, only cause suffering and misery. Even with four centuries spent atoning, he hasn’t learned.

(Xie Lian can't die. This is something he never truly learns.)

lion's tooth by curiositykilled

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence, major character death)

The second time he dies, it’s almost funny. He laughs—or well, he tries to. It catches on his broken ribs, comes out a rasping gasp instead. It’s funny. Really. The Flower Crowned Martial God, dying of a broken neck amidst the wildflowers.

tua

And When I Look In My Window, So Many Different People To Be by CowgayKermit

If you were to go looking for Klaus, you wouldn't look to the alleys where drugs are bought, or to a rave where you could lose yourself in dance, no. No, you would look to his garden full of protective herbs, to his bedroom at three in the morning where he tends to make magic amulets. Klaus grew into his power, both as a witch, and as the Séance.

The End Times Are Blue by Jumblejay

Klaus’ skin is cold as death, just like the rest of his siblings had been. Five lets his hand linger for a moment, steeling himself, preparing to grab on tight and haul the corpse to its grave.

What he’s not expecting is for Klaus to suddenly take in a deep, shuddering gasp, cough harshly, and flail around until he slips off the mound of rubble he’d been lying on with an abrasive clatter.

Five snatches his hand back with a shriek and stares wide-eyed as Klaus props himself up on his hands, blinks hard, and glances around at his surroundings until his eyes catch on Five.

“Oh, shit,” Klaus says, looking almost as shocked as Five feels. “Five?”

Five promptly bursts into tears.

OR

Thirteen year old Five time travels to the future and finds himself trapped in the apocalypse, surrounded by the dead bodies of his siblings. Klaus, however, happens to be immortal. They figure it out from there.

tw

i am addicted to death (so remind me what it’s like to live) by cywscross

Stiles is sixteen years old. He has already died seventy-eight times.

yoi

Triptych by feelslikefire

(explicit)

Victor is a human; Yuuri is a fae. Relationships between the two are always doomed to end in disaster, but true love is stronger than any magic — even death.

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

Something was terribly wrong with the Justice League. Occasionally, they would go limp, only to stiffen, and then, as if pulled by puppet strings, they would move oddly, doing things they would never do, only to go limp again and then wake with no memories of what had transpired. Watching his coworkers, his friends, acting out some strange unwritten play, awkward and childish in their actions, one thing was clear; something was playing with them. There were moments where the plot would become recognizable, only to veer off suddenly into unknown lands. What struck Bruce more than anything was the types of stories sometimes mimicked by whatever foreghen being controlled them. For the most parts, they were classical in nature, though childish in execution. For instance, Bruce remembered a time watching the footage from the watchtower’s security cameras (and there where many) where he swore he watched as he and Superman, and lord if he didn’t want to forget that, played lead in Pride and Pred. (It reminded him of when Jason used to play Pretend, his beloved literature bleeding into the storylines). Not all of the storylines where like this. Once, it was discovered that they had fought against someone who identified themself, rather loudly, as Gargab, king of the mountain (what mountain was unclear) who looked suspiciously like stuffed animal and whom none of them could remember in the slightest. Occasionally, plot lines would abruptly end, and everyone would wake. Bruce had a horrible, nagging suspicion that this happened when whoever their puppeteer was was called to put away their toys.

There were other, less obvious things as well. When the stories began, the security footage would abruptly drop in quality. Rooms would become significantly colder and the average number of injuries sustained during the average fight (even those they could remember) had dropped drastically. Beyond that, there seemed to be no measurable effects that would indicate a cause for this behavior. Nor was there any way they could determine to wake those under the Puppeteer’s effect. The situation was truly desperate. As such, Bruce had found himself forced to do something which he swore he’d die before he ever did again; he called John Constantine.

“Well Shit,” Constantine said around a cigarette.

Bruce grabbed it and put it out in a swift motion, more on habit from time with Jason than anything truly intentional. Constantine grabbed another out of his jacket, lit it, and found it abruptly on the floor and crushed out with a black boot. They both knew that they could do this on loop indefinitely.

“Look, this ain’t good,” he gestured vaguely, indicating absolutely everything, “Whatever’s go’in on here is way out of my pay grade, ok? I’m not sure how the Hell someone is controlin’ anyone with fuckin death magic without killin’ the whole lot of you first.”

Constantine leaned in, poking Bruce in the chest. he restrained the urge to break the magician’s hand.

“You ain’t dead, right?”

“No”

“Well you can never be too sure. Here’s the thing, I can’t break this,”

Again he gestured at everything, Bruce couldn’t help but disagree with him on that point. Constantine was exceptional at breaking absolutely everything he touched.

“But I can take you to the source.”

“You want us to confront someone who can control us?”

“Look, you said that who’ere’s behind this is a kid, right?”

“Or acting like one”

“Well, just… I don’ know… tell ‘em ta stop or you’ll tell ‘ere Ma or somethin’.” Constantine dropped his voice down to a whisper, “That’s what ya do with kids, right?

“Listen, yer a Dad, right? You know what ta’ do ta’ get kids ta’ stop screwen ‘round with shit.”

No he absolutely didn’t.

Bruce nodded.

“That still doesn’t answer the question of how we interact with someone who can control us.”

“Huh…” Constantine scratched his chin and reached for another cigarette. This one didn’t even make it to his mouth.

“Well, who do yah know who hasn’t been controlled?”

Now there was an idea. Who did they know? The Young Justice was out, as were the majority of Justice League Dark and most of the Bats. This left Agent A, although the thought of disturbing Alfred for anything less than a life or death situation seemed inherently wrong, Oracle, Constantine, who could use the punishment but, if this did turn out to be a child, would likely just worsen the situation (or sell his soul again), and…. Red Hood.

Well, they were desperate.

………………………………………………………………………

Ask him thirty years down the line, Bruce would not be able to tell you how he managed to get Red Hood into the Watchtower. The helmet did a good job concealing his expression, but Bruce was sure Jason wasn’t happy to say the least. Constantine, for his part, looked absolutely put out. Good.

“What the Hell am I doing here?” Red Hood said.

“I’d like to know that too,” Constantine added.

“As you may know,” Superman was, thankfully, in charge of the brief, “there has been a number of… oddities over the past few months. We believe that someone is actively controlling members of the superhero community. So far, the only goal this individual seems to be to play ‘“games”’, using people as dolls. You are some of the only people we have been able to determine that seem unaffected.”

“So if I say I’ve been mindcontroled into playing dress up you’ll let me go?”

“Hn,” Bruce grunted, glaring at his son.

“Alright, alright,” Jason said, “Any idea who’s fault this is?”

“Unfortunately no, we’ve already determined that this isn’t any of the magic users we’ve faced so far. The standout feature, besides the childishness of the actions, is the fact that this seems to be death magic, something we haven’t seen before.”

Red Hood stilled. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Hold up, these spells, what exactly happens?”

“Usually, the individuals will start acting out a kind of play. They’ll usually start speaking like a child would, though there are three distinctive voices as identified by Batman, two of which seem more like an adult.”

“And what kind of stories do they act out?”

Now Bruce cut in.

“Action and/or similar to a classical book.”

“Ah Shit.”

Jason pulled out his phone, calling someone. Bruce noticed that, whoever this was, they where on speed dial.

“Hey Angel,” What? “We fucked up.”

Again, what? Bruce was glad to see he wasn’t the only one to look completely baffled.

“Where are you right now?… Ok, is Ell with you? Does she have her dolls?”

Bruce did not like where this was going.

“I need you to grab one of them… Any of the main three… Uhhh, try Supes, she’ll probably give up that one.”

Superman whispered, “Should I feel insulted?”

“Probably,” Wonderwoman responded

“Alright, so I need you to making the doll do something.”

Suddenly, Superman went limp, only to spring back up and do a complete backflip.

“Well, Sh… crap. Huston, we’ve got an issue… Well it looks like the JL’s hooked up to JLT. Any clue how that happened? Uh huh… ok… ummm…”

Jason looked up.

“So a while back Angel was tryin’ to figure out how to keep his daughter El busy, so he decided to make her some dolls. Well, marionettes really. She’s big on heroes, so he patterned ‘em off of the JL. He got really into it; ended up going a bit overboard, and to make sure they lasted, he charmed ‘em. Problem was, he wanted to make sure they had ‘“personality”’. Not sure exactly how, but somehow… he turned them into Voodoo dolls without noticing.”

Something in Bruce slumped. This was his life. That said, it was deeply concerning that some unknown magic user had managed to so thoroughly manipulate almost the entire hero community on accident.

“Well,” Constantine said, “that’s that, I guess. Guess I’ll head out then.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Jason grabbed his shoulder, “we still have to get the dolls back so that Angel can disenchant them, and I am NOT gonna try and take ‘em back from a self multiplying, invisible, and intangible six year old myself.

Though… I bet we could get a few of her least favorites pretty quickly. Send those in to get the others. Hope she doesn’t realize she can use the remaining dolls against you.”

“Do it.” Bruce said.

“Hey,” Jason said. He sounded far too thrilled about this, “you’re funeral.

…Angel, so here’s the plan…”

The Princess' Dolls

After Danny has ascended to the throne of the ghost king, something goes wrong with his clone Ellie. Her form destabilizes again, and when they stabilize her, she's physically only five or six years old.

Danny takes to watching her, but looking after a half ghost child is a lot harder than it looks, especially when Ellie learns duplication but can't seem to figure out how to undo it for hours on end, and each clone gets bored really fast. To counter this, Danny makes Ellie a set of dolls, all modeled after the Justice League and various related figures. He even uses a special enchantment he learned to make sure the dolls stay intact no matter what Ellie puts them through.

Ellie loves the dolls and she and her clones have a tendency to put together large productions using them, ranging from superhero fights to sitcom stories to fairy tales to a few 'things' Ellie remembered reading online before she was de aged.

Meanwhile, almost every single Justice League member has been noticing some oddities as of late. They can hear voices from no where, they feel like something is touching them when there is nothing, their muscles sometimes spasm without cause. And, on occasion, they find themselves sleepwalking as they dream of a giant telling a story.

No one brings this to the attention of the other members until several members get knocked out on a mission, only for their unconscious forms to start acting out a play.

(Or Danny accidentally makes several Justice League Voodoo dolls and a young Ellie keeps playing with them)

[e-nonsense]

─── 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩

pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader

summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares

warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?

a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more

wc. 1.1k not proofread

Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.

After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.

“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.

“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.

You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”

“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.

“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.

“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.

“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.

It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.

It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.

The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.

He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.

The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.

“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.

Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.

The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.

“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.

“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.

“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”

You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”

“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t want anyone that isn’t you…. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.

“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”

Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.

“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”

You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.

“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[gremlin-bot]

The Trials and Tribulations of Summoning Your Boyfriend

This is based on this prompt from @stealingyourbones !  Hope y’all like it!

AO3 link!

Tag list-  @bewitched-forest @half-dead-ham @eyesofcrows

Tim wasn't up in the watchtower much. It's the Justice League's base and he had his own city and team to take care of (even if said team is a branch of the Justice League and he shared responsibility of Gotham with his family). All of that is to say that when he and other available members of the League were called to the watchtower, it was bad.

Tim was expecting a world ending threat. What he wasn't expecting was a summoning circle and a portion of Justice League Dark to be there. John Constantine and a summoning circle always means bad news, it's even worse that Zatanna and Captain Marvel are there helping. What kind of threat is it to warrant this? All of this is topped off with superman wheeling in a projector to the training room they are all set up in.

Bruce steps up next to the projector. He looks extremely tired, not that most people could tell but a bird knows the bat well. As Bruce turns on the machine, Constantine takes his place next to him with a book bound in leather that holds pages that glow a slight green. 

"I called you all here because of this creature attacking Central City." Projected on the wall is a blurry image of a black dragon with a purple underbelly, its whole body glowing.

"Justice League Dark was able to identify it as from a place called the Infinite Realms. They have advised us to not engage and to evacuate everyone we can from the whole city. The Flash has started that. Half of you will join him, as indicated by folders Superman is handing out. The other half will be here to help with the solution that Constantine is handling."  

As Bruce directs those in the evacuation group, Constantine takes over the debrief. "The beast in Central City is a bitch to take care of and the solution is even worse. You boy scouts are here to make sure everything doesn't go completely tits up. I hate to say this and hate fucking doing it even more, but we are trying to trying to summon the Ghost King." 

At that point Tim tuned out a bit. Usually he wouldn't have but he actually knows more about what's happening than Constantine does. Looking back at the creature still being projected, he can vaguely recognize it now. How did Aragon get out of the realms? Especially without being noticed by Da-

Tim was pulled out of his thoughts by Dick, who apparently was dragged here as well, brushing past him with a smirk. What a dick, going out of his way to mess with him. He really should get to where he was needed. 

Taking his place near the top of the summoning circle, he noticed how it was actually set up. It was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. The array was correct. It showed the right constellations and had the right places connected but the candles aren't on the circles that represent the planets, nor was the offering placed correctly. This wasn't going to summon anything. Too bad that Tim was going to let them try anyway. It's better than trying to correct it and explain why he knew it was wrong, plus where was the fun in that.

The other heroes settle into their places. The ones left were the Justice League's big three , the JLD members, Conner, Dick, and Tim himself. They all looked a little nervous and on edge in their own way, from Superman's clenched fists to Dicks never moving smile. Besides Tim who was a bit more relaxed than he really should be. He really should hide it a bit better.

Constantine reading from the book starts the summoning. Latin falling heavy from his lips, a wind that should not be possible in a satellite blows through the room, the candles' flame turns neon green. Everyone holds their breath as the chanting stops. The candles flicker once, twice, and nothing. The room quickly reverted to how it was before. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

"Bollocks." Constantine deflates. "Looks like this didn't work, we must have fucked up somewhere." 

"Why don't we explain how we set it up and go from there." Zatanna offers, gesturing for everyone to gather around her and Constantine. Tim stays back and waits for the rest to be distracted by figuring out what went wrong. He can tell that Bruce and Dick have noticed his distance from the others but they haven't done anything yet.

Once the distraction is set, Tim moves in front of the correct offering section of the array. Removing his glove and taking out a birdarang from his belt. He can hear the moment everyone notices the actions he has taken and the one about to come.

"Red Robin, step away from the summoning circle." Bruce demands with concern hidden in his voice. 

Tim doesn't listen. 

In the moment before anyone can get to him, Tim slashes his ring finger on his left hand. It wasn't deep per say but it definitely wasn't a paper cut. Blood flows out of the wound (almost like a ring), hitting the floor inside the offering ring of the array.

Several things happen at once. First, Dick who was the closest and was trying to grab him, stopped in his tracks along with everyone else. Second, the summoning changed. The first offering was ejected from its place, the crystals shattering. Candles slide at high speed, settling on the represented planets, their flames changing color. The summoning is like a loaded spring trap now. Tim grinning, sets the trap off.

"Alnilam, my love" dropped soft and sweet from Tim's lips with a crawling static buzz. Everyone could hear the buzzing honey intertwined with those words despite their low volume.

The stilled room stirred, yet no one but Tim himself had moved. A cold fog rolls out from the array, blowing a light breeze with it. The static can be felt in their scars, healed bones, all the near misses, and clipped hits. All close calls of the past haunt them in this moment. The room's lovely held in tension snaps as the soul deep buzz is pulled from them into the array. It spills into a Lazarus, toxic, death, neon green pool with small rippling waves that crest with reflection of the space that engulfs the watchtower. This rippling pool stretches upwards. Everyone struggles to move as they inch closer to Tim. As the liquid barely reaches the tall ceiling of the training room, gravity seems to take hold. It sloshes down, turning into a cool fog on impact. Leaving a being in its wake, that is kissing Tim's offered bloody hand.

Danny is in his full king garb. A black metal crown floats above his head surrounded by light similar to earth's aurora borealis. White hair glowing starlight complementing pale blue skin, that blushes the prettiest cyan, not that anyone but Tim can see that. Jewelry hanging from pointed ears and slender neck. His suit is hidden by a long cloak cut from the barrier between realities. The outside is the space outside the satellite with the interlining of a swirling Lazarus green peaking out as the end floats upward. 

Tim is grinning like a love struck fool and he knows it. This is so worth the lecture he will be getting from both Bruce and Dick. Danny raises his head, blood staining his lips as they stretch into a fanged grin just as love struck.

"Hey Red, uh what the fuck!?" Dick's voice snapped the two boys out of their own world and back into the one with everyone surrounding them with looks of concern and from certain people, bone deep exhaustion. Danny drops Tim's no longer bleeding hand, allowing Tim to turn to fully look at the group around them. Tim's grin is now one of mischief and secrets yet to be spoken. From the look on Bruce's face if Danny wasn't behind him he would be out of the watchtower and locked in the manor despite not living there anymore. Too bad that Constantine could give less of a fuck about what's going on between Danny and him.

"Your highness, we called your assistance because one of your subjects is causing trouble in the moral realm and-" as Constantine told and worked out what was going on, Danny moved so he was behind Tim, his arms loosely wrapped around Tim's neck and chin resting on top of his head. Danny was floating off the ground to do this. 

"Oh! That's Aragon, give me 10 minutes and he'll be out of your hair. There is no payment needed, I insist. But before that –'' Danny’s legs float up, flipping him to face Tim upsidedown. A grin that only means trouble for Tim sets on his pretty face. “Red, Babe, Love. You could have just called me if you wanted me to meet your dad and his superhero friends!” 

“Danny, I swear to the Ancients if you disappear –” Tim couldn’t finish the hollow threat as Danny gave him a peck on the cheek and disappeared from sight. Leaving Tim to the heroes, one being Bruce ‘Tim is my little princess’ Wayne and another is his very protective brother. 

Tim looks at his family members in the room, and wow, yeah he is not escaping the interrogation when they get back to the manor. Bruce is approaching him swiftly and looks as if he is going to grab him and never let go. Dick is no better, he has a shit eating grin with his wrist computer up and is already typing. Everyone is going to be there for the interrogation and Bruce's coddling, Tim just knows it. He's going to make Danny go back to the manor with him, he is not doing this alone. It's the least his boyfriend can do after leaving him to deal with this. It was still worth it, even if he has to flee to the Infinite Realms after all is said and done. He’ll just become a trophy husband for Danny and avoid his family at all costs in doing so.

"Red Robin, would you please explain what your relation is with the King of the Infinite Realms." Bruce is definitely in mama bear mode, he was never going to be let outside of the manor.

"I think there are more pressing matters at hand here, like how King Phantom is on his way to Central City and we have yet to inform anyone on the ground." Tim is stalling and everyone knows it, but he's not wrong.

Bruce grumbles about not knowing the king's name but still steps away from Tim and starts relaying the relevant information to the evacuation team. Dick is leaving him alone for the moment, probably waiting for more privacy. Conner on the other hand is trying to hold in his laughter at the situation he got himself into. Tim just glares at him, even if Conner can't see it under the domino. At this point he doesn't care what the rest of the League thinks, he just wants Danny back so they can face Bruce and the rest of his family like he (they) has been avoiding. 

Danny was quicker than his self-imposed time limit, taking 7 minutes instead of 10. Giving just enough time for Bruce to almost give an on the spot interrogation, almost being Tim's saving grace. Unlike Danny, who decides to drop his invisibility only after wrapping around Tim's torsos, his head and arms taking their previous places. 

"Your ghost problem is taken care of. I'll be taking Aragon back to the infinity realms, along with Red Robin here." Danny casually says, like it isn't kidnapping.

"Wait, what." Tim said in shocked silence.

"Well since you summoning me got me out of a meeting with the observants, it's a perfect time to go on a date, you know like all of our dates." Danny is saying these things on purpose and he better get them out of here quick before Bruce tackles them.

"You are a menace!" as Tim says this, ectoplasm begins to pool at their feet, spreading out making a barrier of open space around.

"A menace, you love!" Danny lovingly teases as a low rumble ripples from his core making Tim smile. This is the last thing the heroes hear before the couple drops out of the mortal realm and into the one of the dead.