Humans entering space and realizing we are so small. We are mice compared to these giant races with their advanced machinery and technologies and experiences beyond us- except that we're humans. And our engineers dive into the new tech and once we learn the principles we also soon realize how Inefficient everything is. Their "microchips" are the size of cars, their storage drives are basically buildings, and they somehow store less data than ours. So, human companies take advantage, and tech starts rolling out. Massive and there's a lot of wasted space so that it can be managed with larger hands/pincers/claws/tentacles, but also so much more efficient than anything the galaxy has seen before.
Human technicians start hopping ships and upkeeping the general maintenance, the stuff that most aliens put off or don't notice because they never access the crevices of their ships. As human companies become more popular and lead the tech world in everything from warp cores to game stations ("it's so compact! How are the graphics so good?" Says a 60' tall grimbleback, holding a new VR headset that has all of its components included because it's so BIG by our tech standards), soon many things have accessibility ports for humans to be able to use as well. This means that these shiprats hoping ship to ship cause such a huge improvement in everything running smoothly, and there's a huge downtick in pests on ships because those "pests" are not only big enough and aggressive enough to bite a pitbull or a person in half, they're invasive to so many planets and humans hate nothing more than dog killing planet overrunning monsters.
All the while, from the Aliens perspective, humans are an elusive race that don't fraternize much with them. You almost never see a human as most places aren't exactly safe for the little things to run around in. They do export so much stuff though, and the custodial staff at the Central Galactic Outpost insists that there's more humans around than any other race if you just know where to look.
And sure it's somewhat known that some of the little daredevils hop ships and help out in exchange for room and board, usually without permission, but that can't be that common, can it?
Maybe your ship is running better this cycle ever since you stopped at the last station, that just means that tuneup was better than you thought. And maybe for some reason that program you were working on last night is finished when you wake up, but you're so tired maybe you finished it before you passed out. Somehow that faulty light in the galley has fixed itself as well, which is odd, but maybe the Engineer finally got to it. You'd know if there was someone else on your ship.
Right?
... You leave a little bowl of berries out as a thank you, just in case. You're not sure what humans like but you've heard they have a sweet tooth.
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(i have zero idea whether I'm asking the right account but if you find the time and inspo then supervillain danny?)
Danny found joy in disturbing the peace. His crimes were never violent, and the only reason police even attempted to arrest him was that Danny hurt the pride of some high-ranked politician or rich guy. Especially since Danny's greatest crimes were mostly just exaggerated pranks.
Batman didn't even bother with him. He knew that Danny would never harm anyone. Once he lost Batman's attention, Danny's reputation as a villain was forever smeared. If criminals had a community event where they gathered in one place, Danny would be the laughing stock. He would be invited just so they can make fun of him.
He knew that.
They knew that.
Batman knew that.
Hell, even Metropolis knew that, and those people made eye contact with strangers in the subways. You know, like the insane aldrinline junkies they were.
The thing was, Danny's original threat level faded into obscurity after so many of his silly antics. No one remembered that back when Batman first showed up, and everyone whispered about his existence like a boogie man come to life, it had been Danny who gave him the hardest chase.
It had been Danny who invaded any captured. It had been Danny who had never once seen the inside of a cell, despite everyone knowing he was the cause of the disturbances.
No one remembers that, despite all his silliness and his non-violent offenses, Danny wasn't Phantom. A being that frequently had dinner with the concept of time, spars with Fear every October, beta reads for a reality warping author, and has more than once appeared throughout history as a trickster god.
Phantom's legends and tales weren't as well-known as, say, the Brothers Grimm's fairy tales, but they were touched on in nearly every school program from 10th grade and up in the country. He knows because he had to write a report on one of his adventures back in high school- got a C, and was so offended that his teacher claimed he didn't study enough when he lived through it that he contacted seven colleges and universities that provided academic support in order to force her to change it to a A+.
It was a bit offensive that no one in the stories knew Phantom was the same Phantom flying through Gotham's streets, dropping water balloons onto the various open umbrellas. Yes, none of them knew Danny had access to time travel, but logically, they should have just assumed that Danny was a very old and powerful being.
But they didn't.
In fact, they regarded Danny in the same way he once regarded Box Ghost.
That was until he went into the future, and Box Ghost was nothing like how he remembered him. Box Ghost was actually the scariest one that had survived Dan. Not only that, it was because of Box Ghost that the ghost resistance even existed, as its founder and leader, his once weakest enemy, had been the last thing standing between Dan and the complete control of the ghost zone.
Reading what Joker had done to Robin in the news, and hearing that clown loudly boast about it, left a very nasty taste in his mouth. More than Dan did. Crumbling the newspaper in his hands, Danny turned his blazing green eyes across the city in the direction Joker was last spotted, uttering one single word, cold and low, without any emotion besides loathing.
"Beware."
Gotham needed a healthy reminder of just who Phantom truly was.
Bruce doesn't know what day it was. Couldn't care. Ever since he lost Jason, nothing mattered. The only thing that did was the Mission, because if it didn't, then Bruce lost is son for nothing.
Day in and Day out, Batman was all that he did. He forced himself to focus on the crimes, on stopping the criminals, but rage now controlled his actions. He hated them. Hated that they did crimes because if they just didn't, Bruce would never have lost Jason, or his parents, or Dick or-
"Sir," Alfred calls, a touch of worry in his otherwise professional tone. "The Joker was spotted back in the city. For the first time since his political immunity."
Are we going to kill him for he has done?
Alfred doesn't say this, of course, but Bruce knew him long enough to know what the older man wanted to know. Unlike Bruce, Alfred had never shied away from the tasks his blood-soaked hands ad commited in the line of duty. He didn't like to do it, but the bulter would take a life if it meant protecting those near him.
Jason had died, and no amount of killing would bring him back, but Alfred saw ending the Joker as a way to protect Bruce from his own pain. That's why he gave Bruce the choice to make the call.
It was his way of asking, "Do you want me to do it if you can't pull the trigger?"
And Bruce, more than anything, to say yes. But if he did, then everything he had trained for, every moral lecture he gave Jason that drove his son to run away, would be in vain. Batman was meant to be justice above vengeance.
He was-
The entire cave shook as a loud boom was heard miles above them. He instinctively grabbed onto the Batcomputer's console, using it to steady his feet as the trembles past.
"I say, what in the world was that?" Alfred gasped from where he was leaning on the railing. Bruce is grateful for the timely excuse to escape the previous conversation as he sits down and starts typing, searching for the cause of the explosion.
"Something just hit the middle of downtown Gotham. Something big. Bruce's eyes narrow as a flurry of reports starts rolling in from panicked citizens all over the city. He switches screens, quickly hacking into the city's street cameras, only to come to an utter shock when locating the source.
"It's Phantom."
"What?"
"Phantom did this." Bruce couldn't believe his eyes, and yet there displayed in real time was the glowing nucience holding the limp, broken body of Joker, shaking it by the neck until every internal organ spilled from the Joker's split stomach. Phantom hadn't just killed the clown. He had ripped him apart.
Behind the pair was the large stone Phantom had thrown in the middle of the road, nearly as big as the five-floor building surrounding them. It had likely caused the minor earthquake earlier.
There were other people there, too, many involved in Jason's death, including the officials who gave Joker his political immunity. Bruce recognized them from the hours he poured into glaring at their names and images. They all seemed to have already suffered the same fate as Joker, and their bodies lingered on the cold, unforgiving floor of Gotham.
What was the most devastating aspect about all this, whoever was what Phantom had carved into the stone?
It was Jason, posing as Robin, hands on his hips, cape flowing in invisible wind, and the words "May you rest in peace, young hero, for someone has avenged you."
At the bottom of the stone, in a glass coffin pressed upright into the stone, was his son, eyes closed and hands clasped against flowers. He was wearing the suit Bruce buried him in, but a mask was covering his eyes.
Bruce's hands shook as he tapped into the camera he placed around Jason's grave, wanting to keep it safe even when he could go towards it, and found with utter horror, that it had been dug up.
Phantom had his son's body and was displaying it in the middle of a revenge scheme.
How dare he.
How dare he.
How dare he.
"Sir-" Bruce ignored Alfred's call, throwing himself into the Batmobile. He was getting his son back. He drove out of the cave, uncaring about any safety driving skills, the law, or his instructors ever poured into his mind
Alfred stared after his charge helplessly, unsure and unable to stop him. When he turned back to the computer screen, he felt nothing but satisfaction to see Phantom wiggle the corpse like a dirty rag, a crazed grin on his face, and think to himself that the villain looked lovely covered in that monster's blood. Like an archangel finally bestowing due justice.
Did that make him a terrible person? Probably. But Alfred had long ago accepted the monster within during his days of service.
Alfred was so busy engraving the Joker's public execution into his brain, he nearly missed the impossible.
Master Jason had moved into his coffin. Alfred's eyes snapped to his grandson's body, only to collapse onto the floor when Jason's eyes snapped open.
Was this.....Phantom's doing? Alfred knew of the tales, of course, he did, but he had never realized just how powerful the Ghost King was. To undo death?
Was that possible?
"People of Gotham," the Phantom said, addressing the horrified crowds surrounding. "I believe it's time to remind you all why your ancestors cowered during nightfall."
Good lord, has Gotham gained a new monster to replace the Joker? And merciful heaven forgive him, but Alfred didn't care who this new monster killed if it meant Master Jason returned to him.
Ive just had the stupidest crossover au idea known to man.
So we know the winter soldier was sent into various wars over the years. Stupid stupid stupid au where he gets injured on the front line in Korea and by some slip up confusion in the chaos he ends up taken by helicopter to the nearest medical unit. The 4077th.
Halfway through Hawkeye prying out shrapnel, the man's wounds start to heal on their own, and fuck, maybe Hawkeyes a little too drunk to operate right now because he must be seeing things. A man's chest doesnt just stitch itself up on the operating table. What the fuck.
So of course they keep him for observation. Frank most definitely has a shitfit about it when he finds out, and absolutely doesnt believe Hawkeye that the guy just healed on his own. Frank demanding x-rays for the mistery patient, because surely there has to be an injury somewhere. The man came to the table more shrapnel than human.
The images are....confusing, at best. The soldiers body was a myriad of injuries and trauma, bones broken and healed over, bullets permanently healed between muscles. Each abuse taken and healed over and never once questioned. The worst of all is the mass of scar tissue on the soldiers shoulder, and the mechanical weapon attached to it, drilled into the mans very bones and twisting his spine under the weight. No one knows what to make of this mystery soldier but they know they can't send him back where he came.
Even Hawkeye finds it hard to joke about the situation. Hes seen shell shock, and this is something else entirely. There's something empty in the soldiers gaze, like hes been carved open and dumped out. The only time the soldier seems to relax is, strangely enough, around Radar, of all people.
Frank tries to get information out of him. To understand who he was or who he worked for, who hurt him and who built that arm of his, but he never answers.
Radar is the one who realizes. Of course he is. He takes one good look at the winter soldiers face and- yeah, he knows that face. Thats Captain America's buddy. Radar offhandedly mentioning this to Henry who goes "yeah yeah caps buddy's on our operating table ok" before he thinks about it for a moment longer and OH Fuck thats Sergeant James Goddamn Barnes.
The first question is, of course, how the fuck is he alive didnt he die in the war, and the second is, naturally What Do We Do With Him.
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When Percy cries, do his eyes get red? Cause I feel like the minor inflammation of the blood vessels would be counteracted with the way tears (water) are pooling in the effected area so much.
Was there a reason the Jedi... believed the Rule of Two?
If your enemies told you "Don't worry guys there's totally only two of us... you don't need to look for any more... ignore what's happening in the shadowy corner over there..." it feels like you should be a little suspicious.
Like, the Rule of Two has reasoning as to why it's there (basically just not sharing power) but there's also a lot of reasoning for people to lie to their enemies about their numbers. Enemies are not people you are generally encouraged to just take at their word.
I would guess that itâs because whatâs supposedly causing the false positives isnât actually plastic or any material found in the gloves themselves, but a salt-like substance that just looks like plastic used in the production of gloves that isnât technically in the gloves itself, just a small residue on the top. Difficult to account for a material you donât necessarily know is there!
(I should note that as with all science, we should be cautious because this is just from one study that suggests it, not a set of studies. We should hold out on waiting for other studies to occur which can corroborate the data before we get too comfortable).
One of my biggest literary pet peeves is when historical or history-inspired fiction pretends that "courting" is a synonym for "dating". Usually it's just a one-to-one word swap--in a modern context, these characters would be dating, but this is olden times, so they call it courting instead. Sometimes they'll pretend there's a shade of difference, and that courting is a more serious exploration of marriage or something. But I read a lot of fiction that was actually written during these historical eras, and the word "courting" is never used like that.
Two people do not decide that they are "courting". One person decides to "court" someone else. It's an action, not a stage in the relationship. A man decides to court a woman because he wants to encourage her to have romantic interest in him. He's trying to win her favor. It's not an exclusive relationship--a woman could be courted by multiple men at once. She'll spend time getting to know the guy who's interested in her, but they won't officially define their relationship as one where they only show romantic interest in each other. If they reach a point where they want it to be exclusive, that's when you propose.
There's no middle ground--either you're getting to know each other, or you're committed to marrying each other. This idea of a period where you kind of commit to each other until you decide you definitely want to get married is a modern one, and it occurs in eras where they use the word "dating" to describe it. The closest equivalent I can think of are times and places where they'd talk about a couple "stepping out together", but they're still not calling it "courting". Words have meaning, and the word "courting" has never meant that, so stop using it that way!
the other mild historical disjoint i run into is when people talk about dating in the fifties like it automatically meant exclusivity. the whole reason we have the expression "going steady" is because the default was to or "go around with" or "go out with" multiple people. not in the sense of being in a stable polyamorous vee, but in the sense that archie is actively "seeing" both betty and veronica during the entire time the two girls are competing for his attention and they're both seeing other guys to make him jealous, and nobody involved considers this "cheating."
bizarrely, America has in many ways gotten more conservative about dating since World War II.
Do yourselves a massive favor: practice asking for help BEFORE it's an emergency.
I am a social worker. I have worked in community mental health and in home-based healthcare. And it is much, much easier for me to help you when the situation you're in is not yet a full-blown crisis.
"I'm out of money and have been for a while and now I haven't eaten for three days." This is a crisis. A crisis where I'm likely going to have to put you in the car and take you to the nearest food bank--except food banks require appointments now, and the next opening is in four days, so you're staring down the barrel of a week with no food. That's obviously not going to work, so, let's call eight different food banks until we've found one that has an appointment the next day...except it's in the neighboring county and you can't drive. So now I'm calling your doctor to try and brow beat an emergency plan of care update out of him so I can come back the next day and drive you to the food bank. And we haven't even started on the "constantly broke" part of the problem.
"I don't think I have enough food to make it to my next paycheck. I have (xyz) in my house and that will only last until (date)." This is bad, but not a crisis. We have a few days. We make you an appointment at the food bank and contact your brother to make sure you have a ride there. Now we can spend our visit talking about what bills are causing you the most problems and make a jump on a long-term solution, like looping in a community action agency to cover your utilities and getting you an OTC card from Medicaid to cover some of your groceries every month.
"I'm ten months behind on rent, and my landlord said I have a week to get out, or the cops will throw me out. I don't have the money, and if I get evicted, I have nowhere to go." This is a crisis. Every single thing we do here is going to be some version of a Hail Mary. In Michigan, we have the state emergency relief fund for rent issues, but process time is well over one week. There are community action agencies that we can call to assist you with payment, but they are unlikely to have sufficient funds to cover nearly a year of back rent. We can contact legal aid clinics to try and prevent your landlord from evicting you, but they may look at your case and determine that too much "fault" lies with you. Most likely, I'm going to have to put you in touch with homeless shelters and the public housing office.
"I'm two months behind on rent and I don't think I'll be able to pay next month either." This is bad, but not a crisis. This is solvable. We have time to apply for SER, or put you in contact with community action agencies. We have time to review your finances and see if you qualify for a public housing wait list or other forms of ongoing rental assistance. We have time to talk about a million possible adjustments to try and ease the burden of your rent.
"I am the sole caregiver for my elderly parent who has dementia and is emotionally volatile and fully dependent on me. I have not slept through the night in weeks and I have not had an actual break for over a year. I am having screaming meltdowns multiple times a week and I am threatening self-harm unless someone comes to collect my parent and take over all caregiver duties." This is a crisis. This is a crisis where the ethical code of my profession demands that I call 911 and report the conversation to them. They will likely come to the house and interview you. If they determine your threats were serious, they will have you forcibly committed to a psych ward. Your parent will either be dumped into a random hospital or rehab center, or left in the house on their own. Upon release from your psych hold, you will be expected to resume caregiving duties as though nothing happened. Except, now, adult protective services is actively investigating you, because it was determined you may be an ongoing danger to your parent.
"I am the sole caregiver for my demented parent, and I have not had a break in a couple of weeks, and I feel angry and weepy most of the time." This is bad, but not a crisis. We can get you in touch with volunteer groups for respite, and apply for state funded programs to get more day-to-day help, and talk about long-term planning for when the dementia symptoms get worse. We can get you the phone numbers for crisis lines and enroll you in a support group.
Obviously, you can ask for help at any point. Don't use this an excuse to never ask for help. If you always wait until it's a crisis, fine, you have free will. But you are ALLOWED to ask for help BEFORE you're in a blind panic, and it is always easier to get help when you aren't screaming and sobbing because you think your life is over.
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Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!
"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."
Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.
"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"
But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.
"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"
An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)
"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"
"...Losers bet...."
Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.
"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."
He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.
Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)
"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"
Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.
Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.
"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."
"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."
"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."
"Talia."
Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.
So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.
It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...
Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.
After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.
And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.
He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...
The two sides were glaring at each other. Or at least, that's what Danny assumed. It was hard to tell when people's faces where half covered. Neither side moved watching the other.
"Danyal. Come here," his mother ordered.
Nah. He loved her, just as she loved him. She wasn't exactly the sanest though. Neither was his dad, since he was a surprisingly popular out and proud furry. Danny was waiting. As soon as the two sides went after each other, he was going to make a run for it. His mom stepped forward, and the batclan leapt forward.
Danny dodged and weaved as the two sides clashed, trying to prevent the other from getting to him. Once he was pretty sure they were all distracted, he jumped down onto a fire escape and made himself invisible, running away. He couldn't hold it for long, but it should hold long enough for him to lose his tails for a bit.
***
Danny was pretty sure he wasn't followed. He'd managed to make his way to the observatory. It was easy to sneak inside. He'd decided to use the techniques his mom had shown him. Danny was still tired from using his powers earlier. He paused at the gift shop, looking longingly at some of the posters, toys, and clothes. He could live without it, but it would be nice to have one of those.
Danny shook his head.
He didn't want to steal.
Sighing, Danny moved on. He wanted to check out the movie room. It would be a nice place to sleep for the night, and he could fall asleep listening to the stars. Following the signs, he made it to the theater room. It was easy to find the console. From there, he turned on a video about the Hubble telescope and the James Webb telescope. Those would be fun.
Danny started them up, then meandered down to the rows of chairs. He laid down in the first row, spreading himself out across two of the seats. They were cushioned nicely. He'd been taught how to fall asleep when in uncomfortable situations. Danny drifted off hearing the narrator talk about the galaxies.
***
He woke up hearing two people talking, asking who had been the last to lock up for the night, how could they have left the projector running. Danny scrambled to get up and hide. It was child's play to sneak back out. His stomach grumbled. He'd had to steal food this past year in order to say alive. He didn't like it, but it was necessary. Danny made his way to a fancy looking grocery store that wasn't that far away.
His mouth watered seeing the fruits and vegetables. He'd hated them in his last life, but he appreciated them so much more in this one, where he rarely got enough to eat. Danny went in, looking for an adult to hang around who he could pretend he was with. There. There was an elderly gentleman stocking up his cart, filling it full. Danny made his way to the man and hovered around him, but not too close.
Danny stole an apple and an orange, hiding them in his hoodie. He also snuck a chocolate bar. Life was tough. Some sugar would do him good. Not only that, but chocolate was full of magnesium. That was an important micronutrient. He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard the elderly man say to the cashier.
"Add an apple, and orange, and a kit kat bar. I'm afraid my grandson has squirreled them away. He refused breakfast, so of course he is hungry now." Danny's head snapped up, assessing the man.
He had white hair and was balding at the top. He looked stern, but there was a kindness to him. Afterall, why else would he have paid for Danny's stuff? He followed the man out of the store.
"Thanks. You didn't have to do that," Danny admitted, scuffing the ground with his toe, ashamed yet grateful.
"No. There is a a small bakery and coffee shop down the street. If you help me put the items in my car, I'm more than happy to get you breakfast," the man explained. Danny nodded. It was a good trade, not only that, but it was easy to help the man. He told Danny his name was Alfred Pennyworth. Danny just said his name was Danny.
At the cafe, Mr. Pennyworth got some tea and scones while Danny got hot chocolate and an egg quiche with vegetables. It was really yummy. Danny tried to savor the drink. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had something so yummy. Definitely not since waking up in this body.
"Some of my grandsons will be here shortly. They were in the area. I do hope you won't mind them joining," Mr. Pennyworth told him calmly.
"Okay," Danny mumbled. Maybe he should try to leave before that... he was kinda gross and stinky.
He didn't really have a chance to leave though, as it felt like just seconds later, three men entered the store. The oldest, silver just starting to enter his hair, sat down next to Danny. He shifted uncomfortably. It was going to be harder to leave now. He didn't want to act suspicious and attract attention though.
"Bruce! What a surprise. I'd thought it was just going to be Tim and Damian."
"I was the one who drove them out here! Tim wanted to check out the observatory," Bruce said joyfully before turning to look at Danny. It kinda unnerved him. It reminded him of his mother's gaze, picking him apart, looking for Danny's flaws. He hated it. He needed to get out of here!
"Hello there! I'm Bruce Wayne! Nice to meet you! Where did Alfred pick you up at?" Was this something Mr. Pennyworth did often? Danny thankfully didn't have to answer as the boys sat down. One was older, probably sixteen or seventeen while the other looked to be twelve.
"Here's yours," the elder one said sliding a cup to Bruce. He then sat next to Alfred, the twelve year old sitting at the end of the table.
"Thank you Tim." He was turning to ask Danny something again, something Danny didn't want. So he decided to jump in.
"Tim! You wanted to go to the observatory. What did you want to see there?" Tim blinked.
"Uh, they updated the documentary to include new information since the James Webb telescope was launched a little while ago."
Perfect.
Danny has spent all night listening to that on repeat. He could rant about that telescope till he bored them and made them leave him alone! He just needed to be as annoying and know-it-all as possible. Time to channel Jazz.
"Did you know that the James Webb was built to extend the capabilities of the Hubble telescope? It has a whole bunch of infrared equipment, that way it can be an orbiting infrared telescope. It's made with gold coated beryllium that way..."
Why werenât they getting bored? Why were they all listening as if this was the most interesting thing theyâve ever heard? Danny was running out of information to info dump on them about the telescopes. He had plenty of more facts about space and galaxies and all that good stuff, but the satellites and telescopes? Yeah, he was out. Tim had been surprisingly knowledgeable and had been a good listener. Heâd mentioned some a University in Arizona that was known for their optics program and made some of the best and largest lenses in the world. Also how they had a great astronomy and astrophysics program due to the fact that the sky was so often clear there and it was relatively easy to find an open patch of land in the desert that did not suffer from light pollution and view the heavens from there. Danny hadnât known any of that, happily drinking his hot chocolate while Tim explained. He was brought out of his thoughts when Bruce interrupted.Â
âWow. You know a lot about the stars. Would you like to come with us to the observatory?â Bruce was smiling, but it was softer this time and didnât feel as fake. It still felt weird. Why was this family accepting him? It was really suspicious.Â
âOh no, I couldnât. Itâs your family that you were going to do with Tim and Damian,â Danny protested.Â
He wanted to go. He did. But he shouldnât. Also, this was Gotham? Heâd heard so much about this city, who in the world were these people that they were like: ah, letâs take that street urchin in his ratty and stinky clothes to an observatory! Were they trying to kidnap him? Probably. Ah well, he could kick their asses when they revealed their hand and then leave. Danny was still trying to lay low and hide from his mother and his father, the Batman. Mother might suspect him of going to an observatory. She did know him, and knew that he liked stars. Probably? Was he giving her too much credit? She had him on purpose because her other son hadnât turned out the way she wanted. Mother hasnât been thrilled to discover his interest in space. No, sheâd just wanted the perfect soldier, the perfect heir.Â
Sheâd lost that when sheâd killed her son and revived him in the Lazarus Pit.Â
Older Dannyâs memories had meshed with his younger, reincarnated selves ones, but older Danny had so many more memories and a lot more life experience. Little Danny? Not so much. The love he had for his mother had stayed though.Â
âOh, I insist,â Bruce said, putting his hand gently on Dannyâs shoulder.Â
Danny bit his lip. He glanced around at the others. Damian hadnât said a word, just watching Danny. He had the same gaze as his father, Bruce, had initially. As if he was trying to look into Dannyâs soul. Alfred looked serene and calm as ever. Danny felt safer if both Tim and Alfred would come with.Â
âWill you be coming too, Mr. Pennyworth?â Danny asked, trying to give his best innocent and cute look at the older gentleman. He also subtly pushed off Bruceâs hand, not liking it on him.
âIâm afraid I must get the groceries home. They would not survive a trip to the observatory,â Mr. Pennyworth said. Danny frowned. That sucked.Â
âOh. Well, I wouldnât want to imposeâŚâ yes, nice and easy, get away from this nice but really weird family.Â
âYou wouldnât be imposing! Donât worry about cost either! I have plenty of money,â Bruce chuckled.Â
âYuck,â Danny blurted, then blushed. Okay, so he kinda hated rich people. He blamed Vlad. Tim let out a surprised laugh, although he tried to stop it as quickly as he could. Damian, however, bristled.
âHow dare you say that! Father is one of the most generous men on the planet and his charities help the people of this city and those all around the world!â Bruce put his hand on Damianâs shoulder.Â
âItâs alright, son. I donât think Danny knows who we are. Iâm Bruce Wayne, does that ring a bell?â It did, but Danny didnât want to tell him that.Â
âNo,â Danny told the man before finishing off his hot chocolate. It was a little cold at this point, but it was still good. Heâd finished the quiche during his discussion with Tim. Decisions though. He really, really wanted to explore the observatory while it was open and not at nightâŚÂ
âIâll go, but you have to answer one question first,â Danny told Bruce, looking up at him. He was going to have so much fun messing with this trillionaire.Â
âOf course!â Danny was going to make him regret that. They would either let him leave or still take him after this question. Probably let him leave.Â
âYouâre not a pedophile, are you?âÂ
Bruceâs eyes widened, and he looked stunned. Damian stood up and started yelling. Mr. Pennyworth looked perturbed. Tim looked like he wasnât sure if he was going to laugh or cry. What could he say? He was a bit of a chaos gremlin.Â
***
To Dannyâs utter amazement, the Waynes still wanted to take Danny to the observatory.Â
They had to have some sort of ulterior motive. No one would have taken Danny after he asked Bruce that so bluntly. Were they connected to the Bats? Or his Mother? Either way, Danny was just going to use them a bit, making them go with him to every single exhibit, check out all of the telescopes, and watch as many of the movies in the theater as possible. Tim though, Tim had been the one to surprise Danny by getting him a few items from the gift shop. A little model rocket, a poster of a few different galaxies, and even some astronaut food.Â
It was really nice of the teen.Â
Damian had been extremely bored and clearly did not want to be there. He kept trying to tell Danny what to do and how to act, which just made Danny want to do the exact opposite. It was honestly fun to make the other kid mad. When he did, he would hide behind Timâs leg and give the older teen the most innocent look he could manage. Bruce looked super tired from dealing with their squabbles.Â
If he couldnât handle it, he shouldnât have invited Danny along!Â
That led to the interesting conundrum. It was becoming dark, and the observatory was about to close. Bruce and his kids didnât seem to want Danny to leave. It was super suspicious. They were outside now, Danny holding his little bag of goodies. While he could be subtle when he wanted to be, now really wasnât the time for subtlety. Walking forward in front of the little family, Danny turned to face them. He was prepared to run if they made any weird moves.Â
âSo. Whoâs side are you on? My momâs? Or are you on the side of my dad, the furry?âÂ
âWhat makes you think we have anything to do with your parents? Whoever they are,â Bruce asked. Danny rolled his eyes.Â
âPlease. Any normal person would want to get away from me as soon as I asked if they were a pedophile. The fact that you didnât leave me alone right after that? Super suspicious. I may be five, but Iâm not dumb,â Danny told them, annoyed. Sometimes being so little was helpful, sometimes it really, really sucked!Â
The three people studied Danny. He fidgeted.Â
âWell? Are you going to answer my question?â Danny demanded.Â
âWeâre with⌠Batman,â Bruce reluctantly said.Â
âYeah, I thought so. None of you really seem like people my mom would associate with.â Apparently, that was funny, as Tim covered his mouth with a hand to muffle his laughter.Â
âWhy would you think that?â Damian questioned, crossing his arms and⌠pouting? Ancients, was the twelve year old kid really pouting? It was only because Danny had been taught how to read even the most subtle body language by his assassin mom that he could tell the other boy was upset.
âUh, youâre not all stabby and donât really seem super dangerous,â Danny explained. That seemed to get Tim even more, as he made a strangled sound and pulled out his phone.Â
âI need to tell Jason. Heâs going to love this so much,â Tim managed to wheeze out. Danny was not waiting around till Jason showed up. He was getting out of here.Â
âAnyway, good to know that youâre with the caped furry. I hope to NEVER see you again,â he told them cheerily.Â
âWAIT!â Damian yelled, grabbing Dannyâs hand. Danny frowned at the surprisingly strong grip. âDonât you want to meet your older brother?âÂ
âUh, no,â Danny told the other boy. Damianâs face went stony at the answer. âIâve been compared to my older brother my entire life. Mother said that once I beat my teacher, I could learn his name and once I beat her I could learn my fatherâs name. I donât want to know, though. Mother always said I was slower than him, I didnât learn as quickly as him. I wanted to yell at her so many times that I wasnât him! Iâm Danyal. Iâm Danny. I donât want to be my brother. I want to be nothing like him! Mother boasted how heâd completed his first kill at three. Iâve never killed anyone. I love my mom, but sheâs not exactly sane and really shouldnât be raising a kid.âÂ
âSo I ran away, and thereâs no way Iâm going to get involved with Batman, because if Mother picked him to be my father, then heâs probably not really sane either. I mean, he runs around at night in his fursona!â Danny argued. He tugged at his arm. âNow let me go!â
Damian wasnât letting go though. In fact, his grip just got tighter. Danny tried a few techniques heâd learned from his Mother, but none of them worked. Damian had a smug expression on his face as Danny struggled to get away. Bruce and Tim got closer, caging him in.Â
Well, screw that!Â
âYeah, no, bye!â Danny told them, turning intangible to Damianâs hand slid off him, his eyes ridiculously wide in shock.Â
Not bothering to see the otherâs reactions, Danny turned and ran, gripping his bag of goodies tightly. He heard them chasing after him. His legs were short, but all he needed to do was get to the shadows, then he could turn invisible and get away. It didnât matter if they saw he had powers at this point. He just needed to get away.Â
***
The bad thing about spending the whole day in the observatory was that Danny hadnât picked a nice, safe spot to sleep for the night. Once he was sure he was far enough away from the Waynes, heâd dropped his invisibility then wandered. Heâd received so many looks from others. Whatever. Danny could take care of himself. He could tell it was going to rain. He needed to find a place to get some shelter and keep warm for the night.Â
Danny found a nice little space to hide and keep warm, under the roof of a large building. The overhang was large enough that it kept him dry. The thick stone slabs on the⌠bank. It was a bank. The outside of the bank was warm. Well, warmer than elsewhere. From up here, Danny could watch the street and everything that was going on. The bag rustling, he pulled out the model rocket, admiring it. It was really, really nice of Tim to buy this for him. It was a model of the Javelin, the type of rocket that was a spaceship and a jet. It was used exclusively by the Justice League.Â
This type of technology hadnât existed in his old world. He really wanted to fly in one. Or look at the engine of it. Saw how it worked. The specs on it. Danny wanted to know about the aerodynamics of the plane, the material used to make it both sturdy and heatproof for reentry into the atmosphere. He couldnât always let his adult side take over, or dominate him. So Danny let his younger side out, making the Javelin fly around above him, making soft zooming noises. He thought about if he went with his dad, with Batman, maybe he could get to fly in one.Â
Danny shook his head, dispelling that thought.Â
It was a nice one, but he didnât want anything to do with the Bat themed vigilante or the bird themed ones that seemed to flock around him. Danny just wanted to be a normal kid. Well, as normal as he could be. It wasnât worth sacrificing his normalcy or his freedom to fly in a Javelin, as cool as it would be. Danny put the model on his chest and sighed. He tensed as he heard two people land on the ground by the entrance to the bank. It was Nightwing and Red Hood. Nightwing was hiding something behind his back, a smile on his face.
âThat sure was a big sigh! Are you doing alright up there, Danny?â Nightwing asked kindly, giving him a small wave.Â
Oh great.Â
âIâm fine. Go away,â Danny ordered.Â
âOkay. If you come down though, Iâll give you this!â Nightwing brought out what looked like a Build a Bear in an astronaut costume. It was tempting, but Danny wasnât falling for it.Â
âPass,â Danny told him. Red Hood snickered. Danny eyed him.Â
âAre you going to try and convince me to come down too?â He asked the anti-hero.Â
âNah,â came the robotic voice. A voice changer. âIâm just here to watch Goldie fail.âÂ
âLittle wing!â Nightwing complained. Wait a minute.Â
âLittle wing? Red Hood is bigger and taller than you. How is he little?â Danny asked.Â
âWell, heâs younger than me,â Nightwing explained, as if it explained anything!Â
âSo⌠Do you call people older than you Big wing?â Danny questioned. The logic wasnât really logicing for him. Red Hood started chuckling. It sounded kinda weird with the voice modulator.Â
âYouâre a riot kid. Iâm going to enjoy this.âÂ
Red Hood might be enjoying this, but Danny was not. He glared down at the two men. Nightwing just cooed at him. What was wrong with the man? Why was he all excited about a moody toddler? Red Hood was staying true to his word leaning against one of the bollards in front of the bank. Weirdly, a couple of them were damaged. Were people so bad at driving in Gotham that they kept running into them? Or were there seriously that many attacks from proclaimed villains.Â
Ancients, this place got weirder and weirder the more he learned about it.Â
This place wasnât going to work for the night. He got the feeling that Nightwing was like an overactive golden retriever puppy. Sorry Nightwing, Danny preferred Rottweilers and Doberman. They reminded him of Cujo. He really wanted to sleep. Itâd been such a good day at the observatory messing with Damian and hanging out with Tim. Heâd liked Mr. Pennyworth too.Â
Too bad they were all associated with his dad.Â
If only his mom had told him the names of his dad and older brother. All he knew was that they were Batman and Robin. Sighing to himself, Danny put his toy Javelin back in the bag, holding tight to it. He could climb out from under the overhang and then get on the roof, but with their grapples, theyâd get up there before him and would be waiting for him. Danny would be captured, unless he used his intangibility again. That wouldnât be good. His legs were hurting and he was tired, which meant he wouldnât be able to told onto any of his powers for long.Â
âDanny? You okay up there babbiest bat?â Nightwing asked. Red Hood snorted.Â
âBabbiest bat? Really?âÂ
âBaby Bat is already taken by Robin! Red Robin is Baby Bird and youâre Little Wing. Iâm running out of nicknames!â Nightwing defended himself, pouting but focusing on Red Hood.Â
Now.Â
Now was the time for him to briefly go invisible and phase on to the roof. Hopefully by only using his powers for thirty seconds or less, he could make his escape. Up he went, then running across the roof, holding on to his invisibility for as long as possible. Theyâd somehow seen him, probably on the cameras. Danny needed to be undetected getting into his next sleeping spot, otherwise theyâd find him. He really, really needed to sleep in order to regain his strength and his powers. He was running on empty, and they were bound to give out on him soon.Â
This time, even though it meant the vigilantes themselves might spot him easier, as the rooftops kinda made it easy to spot him. It kept him out of the line of sight from the cameras that were around the city. Heâd heard of the Oracle person, that was probably how Nightwing and Red Hood had found him. As long as he was invisible, they couldnât see where he was going, and he needed to get as far away as possible.Â
Danny stopped on an apartment building that was only a few blocks from Wayne Tower. He crawled into the space between the air conditioner and heater units that were bolted in place. There, he let his invisibility drop. It was cramped, and if it rained, which was likely, he would get drenched. Danny had to try, had to try and sleep for a bit. Shivering, he curled into a ball and tried to sleep.Â
***
Danny only got to sleep for three hours before the heavens opened above him, the rain soaking him to the bone. His entire body trembled. He was out of power, extremely tired, and cold. The younger part of him wanted to cry. The older part of him knew he had to get up, to go somewhere warm and dry otherwise he would die from hypothermia. Struggling, Danny got up and exited his hiding spot.Â
He stilled when he saw who was on the roof.
Red Robin was sitting on the edge, looking out at the city. Hearing Danny, he glanced back at the small boy before returning his gaze to the city.Â
âIâm done with patrol for the night,â the vigilante commented.Â
Dannyâs mind was whirring. How long had Red Robin been there? Why hadnât he told anyone? How had he found Danny?Â
âIâm about to head home. It would be easy to hide a small kid in my cape as I went to my apartment. The apartment I live alone in. Might even make two mugs of hot chocolate. You know. Just in case.âÂ
Some of the fight drained from Danny, his stiff and tense shoulders dropping. That sounded really good. A dry and safe space to spend the night and hot chocolate. It sounded too good to be true! Yet he couldnât stay out here. Danny had half died once and died twice now. He didnât want to die a third time and deal with whatever nonsense was sent his way that time. Slowly, step by shaking step, he approached the unmoving vigilante. Swallowing his pride and taking a leap of faith, he tugged on Red Robinâs cape.Â
âCan you⌠take me with you to your apartment? I could⌠drink that extra hot chocolate,â Danny whispered. Red Robin looked at him and nodded.Â
âYeah. Yeah, I can do that.âÂ
It was nice, but still really weird when he was brought under Red Robinâs cape and held tight to the manâs (teenâs?) body. The trek across the city was quick. Danny was able to warm up a little. Red Robinâs apartment was high up and had a ton of security. Danny was ushered to the couch, and given some clothes. They were big for Danny, but they werenât Red Robin sized.Â
âThose are Robinâs,â Red Robin told him. Danny stiffened, looking at the items. âHe stays over every once in a while, or sometimes he changes here after school. Itâs not often, but just enough that Nightwing insisted that I keep some spares here. The bathroom is over there. Iâll be right in the kitchen, starting the hot coco.â
Danny sat there, watching dumbly as Red Robin took off some of his outfit, but left the domino on. The man clearly didnât care that Danny saw him in his underwear during this. Once Red Robin was in sweats and a ratty tee shirt, Danny made his way to the bathroom. He stared at the clothes. He didnât want to be like his older brother, but at the same time, part of him was fascinated by the clothing in front of him.Â
It was 100% cotton, which indicated wealth. It was a solid green color. There was fur on it. That, Danny hadnât expected. Most of it was black, but there were some white strands as well. Likely a mostly black animal with some white patches? The cuffs were worn, and there were slight wrinkles in the elbows and lower half of the sleeves. Dannyâs older brother liked to roll up his sleeves a lot. The pants had the same type of animal hair and were of hush quality as well, not telling Danny much about his sibling.Â
Danny heard cursing coming from the kitchen. He exited the bathroom, finding Red Robin trying to mop up an overflowing pot of milk. Milk tended to bubble up quickly once it boiled. Did Red Robin not know that?Â
âUh. Just⌠give me a minute. I have this under control!â Red Robin told him flustered.Â
The kitchen was actually pretty bare except for a super shiny and well used coffee machine. The rest of it had a small layer of dust. What did the man eat? Take out? Said man was opening a dusty box with round chocolate orbs.Â
âNightwing gave me these. Said I should be able to boil milk and then just put them in a mug. They should still be good?â Red Robin questioned. Danny got the feeling he wasnât supposed to answer that.Â
After all of that mess, he got a mug that was filled with warm milk and one of the chocolate balls dropped in. Danny was ushered to the couch again. Red Robin gave him a ton of blankets to snuggle under. Then the man left him for his own room. Danny sipped his chocolate, thinking. Danny had taken a risk to trust the vigilante, and the vigilante had taken a risk to trust Danny. Wait, that was the sound of security activating. Okay, maybe not a ton of risk, but it was smart of Red Robin to try and keep a kid trained by the League of Assassins out of his room while he slept.Â
He yawned.
Danny really needed to sleep.Â
First though, he opened the bag, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes seeing how the posters were ruined from the rain. The Javelin was fine, as it was made out of plastic. It was fine. Not all of his gifts from Tim had been ruined. Danny sniffled a bit, then sneezed. Setting his mug down on the coffee table, Danny wrapped himself in blankets and made himself comfortable on the couch, falling asleep almost immediately.Â
He was shivering and cold, his head was pounding, and snot was dripping from his nose. Heâd caught a cold. Danny coughed weakly. His immune system was pretty good, and it had always been good as a halfa. Not eating enough, not getting enough sleep, and being soaked for a while had taken their toll and how he was sick.Â
Weakly, Danny stumbled off of the couch, clinging to the blankets around him. They dragged behind him like a little cape. He made his way to the door that had to be Red Robinâs bedroom. Danny knocked. It was faint, way too faint. Gritting his teeth, Danny knocked harder so it could actually be heard. He waited, swaying slightly. Oh, there was movement from inside the bedroom. The door opened, and Danny was looking up at Tim. What was Tim doing - oh. Tim = Red Robin. If his brain was currently trying to boil itself to make him feel better, Danny would think that over a bit more.Â
âI donât feel good,â he announced sadly. Tim frowned, reaching out to feel his forehead. Alarm flashed across his face.Â
âYeah, youâre definitely sick. Um, letâs get you back on the couch. Iâll⌠call back up and get you some kids motrin or something. Chicken soup, thatâll⌠yeah.â
Danny went back to the couch, cocooning himself inside his blankets, not before he grabbed the Javelin. It was his only toy, and he was going to hold on to it and cuddle it, even if it was a bit pokey. Maybe he should have taken the time to swipe the bear from Nightwing. It had been bought just for him. No. Danny shook his head. He could not be bribed! Not with gifts or toys! That was what Vlad did! It was scummy! The only reason heâd accepted the stuff from Tim was because heâd spent the whole day with Danny talking about space and the stars. Heâd earned some of Dannyâs trust.Â
Tim came back, on the phone with someone, sitting down on the couch next to Danny. Danny wanted hugs. He wanted cuddles. He felt bad and icky and just wanted someone to hold him and tell him it would all be better. He couldnât remember that happening at all in this life, and it happening rarely in his other one. Danny sniffed, trying to hold back tears. Why were his lives always so crazy and bad?
â-heâs got a bit of a fever. Can you bring a fever reducer? Can I also bother you to make some chicken soup? I um. I have no vegetables or food in my fridge. I have milk and coffee creamer, but thatâs about it.âÂ
Tim was distracted. Maybe he wouldnât notice Danny shuffling closer. Okay, that was a lie. He was a vigilante, heâd totally know. Tim had taken Danny in last night and given him shelter. That had to mean something, didnât it? Tim ran his free hand through his hair, looking admonished. Whoever was on the phone was giving him a good scolding.Â
âI eat! I promise! You know I canât cook Alfred. Not like you and Jason can. Coffee is about the best I can do. I over boiled the milk last night. It was supposed to be easy, just warm the milk and then drop the hot chocolate bombs in there. Yeah they were good. See you soon Alfred. Thanks for everything.â
âAlfredâs coming?â Danny asked, his throat all scratchy from the nasal drip.Â
âYeah. Heâs on his way with food and medicine. Um. Do you want to watch cartoons?â Tim asked. âI can make you some tea. Pretty sure I have peppermint. Alfred says itâs good for when youâre sick.âÂ
âYeah. Sounds good.âÂ
Tim left, and Danny slumped in his pile of blankets.Â
He could hear the sounds of an electric water kettle and the sound of the coffee machine starting up. Tim came back to grab Dannyâs hot chocolate mug from last night, puttering around the living room. Tim was in a pair of boxers and an oversized sweater. Since the domino was off, Danny could see the deep circles under the teenâs eyes. Tim had to be a teen, right? Ages were hard to figure out with his brain a mix of old Danny and young Danny. Everyone was older than him, so it didnât really matter that much. It was just how much older than him they were.Â
The TV lit up, his companion using the remote to go to a streaming service. A show called Bluey was selected. He wasnât a baby! He didnât need to watch a show about dogs and their life! It⌠wasnât that bad though. It was much better than Paw Patrol, which heâd seen glimpses of while he was fleeing Nanda Parbat. It made his chest ache though. Heâd never had a family like that. Not in his past life, and not in this one.Â
It wasnât fair.Â
Heâd been reincarnated here, why was he given such a crappy hand again? Wasnât the whole thing about karma that you would reincarnate into a better life? Hadnât Danny been good in his last one? Heâd been a hero, heâd helped others! None of this was fair!Â
Danny was brought out of his thoughts when Tim set down two mugs. One was clearly coffee, and the other was the tea. Both were steaming. Tim left and came back with a damp cloth.Â
âCome on, we need to put this on your forehead to try and cool you down a bit. I donât have a thermometer, but it seemed pretty high to me. Are you okay? You lookedâŚ. Sad.â Tim said softly, folding the cloth and placing it on Dannyâs forehead.Â
âItâs not fair.âÂ
âWhatâs not fair?â
âThis. All of this. I just wanted a better life. I just wanted to be free.â He wasnât sure if he was making sense or not. He didnât care.Â
âIs that why you ran?â
âYeah. Mom wants me to kill. Dad makes people fight. Neither was good. I just wanted to be normal. I want to be an astronaut. I didnât ask for this,â Danny complained. Oh, he was a little dizzy now. The cloth felt nice, but he was still having the chills. So he still had a bad fever.Â
There was a sound elsewhere in the apartment. He should care, but all he could focus on was how miserable he felt. There were footsteps. Two people came in, but they were blurry.Â
âDid Talia give you the powers?â Danny shuddered. Weakly, he put his palm over Timâs mouth.Â
âSHHH. Mom doesnât know. She was dumb. Hired this - this guy who didnât like her. He killed me. So I got a bath in the green pool. Thatâs where the powers come from. But thatâs where the - the voice, the other me is from. Older me. He saidâŚ. He said mom wouldnât ever love me the way I wanted her to. She wasnât capable.â Danny hiccuped, the tears heâd been holding back starting to fall. There was a crash from the blurry people. Oh, Tim was looking blurry too.Â
âSaid mom would never let me go if she found out what I could do now. So I practiced in secret. She canât know,â Danny insisted.Â
âWe wonât tell her. What does this⌠other voice say about me? About your dad?â Tim asked. His voice was nice and calm. Soothing even. Ugh, he was getting tired of all the stuff about his dad though. Â
âHe doesnât mind you. You like to talk about space with us. So youâre cool. My dad⌠he thinks heâs weird. Who runs around dressed like a bat? People who arenât all there. But this whole place is weird. I donât understand a lot. Um. Tim?âÂ
âYeah Danny?âÂ
âEverything is spinning.âÂ
That was all Danny got out before everything went dark and he felt himself pitch forward.
When he woke up, he felt a lot cooler. He was in a bathtub filled with cold water. Danny saw a few pieces of ice floating in the water. There was a man with black hair and a white tuft of hair in the front reading a novel. Not just any novel, it was Pride and Prejudice. He was big and muscular. It would have been more intimidating, if he wasnât sitting clothed on top of the toilet.Â
âWhoâre you?â Thatâs what Danny tried to say, but it came out really mumbled. The black and white haired guy looked up. There were so many nicknames that were flitting through his head at this point. Magpie. Skunk. Cow. Panda. Penguin. Sebra. There were so many animals that were black and white.Â
âIâm Jason. Howâre you feeling?â Jason got off of the toilet, kneeling down beside the bathtub to feel Dannyâs forehead. He had to move a damp washcloth to do so.Â
âI feel yucky. But not as bad as before,â Danny reported. Jason nodded, removing his hand.
âSeems like your fever has gone down a bit.â That was good. âYou up to taking some Motrin? It will help even more. Your choice.âÂ
It was nice of them to give him the option. Little Danny had never gotten to choose what happened to him. Mom and Grandfather had always decided for him. Was giving him a choice a reverse psychology thing? Heâd be more likely to take it if he had a choice? Also, Jason was new. Danny didnât know this guy, didnât trust him.Â
âIâll pick after I talk to Tim.â Tim hadnât lied or done anything to make Danny mistrust him. He also hadnât pressured Danny. Jason nodded.Â
âOkay. Iâll get him. We took shifts watching you.âÂ
With that, Jason got up and left the bathroom. Danny sat up a bit, the washcloth on his head falling off into the tub. Heâd been propped up on some stacked towels. He was still in his underwear, thank goodness. The bathroom was sea themed, the walls a pale blue. The soap holder was shaped like a seashell and the toothbrush holder looked like red coral. There was a painting with palm trees and the beach on it. The shower curtain, which had been pulled back, was covered in fish. It was a cute little bathroom. He hadnât really focused on it last night when heâd changed clothes, more intrigued by what he could learn about his brother. Assuming it hadnât been that long since heâd passed out.
Danny brought up his knees, bringing them to his chest. Here, in the bathtub, he felt so small and alone. It didnât last long, as the door opened. Standing in the open doorway was Tim. Behind him, Danny could see Alfred and Jason. Tim left the door open and walked in. Like Jason had, he knelt next to the bathtub, leaning against the porcelain tub.Â
âJason said you wanted to see me.â Timâs tone was neutral.Â
âYeah. He mentioned Motrin, and that I didnât have to take it,â Danny explained. Tim nodded.Â
âYes. You can take some Motrin, if you want. It will help get rid of your fever and some of your symptoms. If you donât want to take it, you would need to get back in the ice bath the next time it spikes. We have a new bottle, unopened. I can open it in front of you, if that makes you feel better.â Relief flooded his body. Yes, that would make him feel a lot better. Never could be too safe after having grown up with assassins. Plus heâd been unconscious for a while. They would have had plenty of time to tamper with things. That did include the Motrin bottle, but it would be harder to hide that.Â
âThat. Can you open it in front of me and let me read the bottle before I have any?â Danny turned to the side, turning closer to the edge of the tub. It was faint, but he could hear Jason and Alfred whispering in the hallway.Â
âItâs ironic how he likes Tim. Demon Brat hated Timâs guts and loved Dick,â Jason mused.Â
âI would prefer if you did not refer to Master Damian as that around me,â Alfred scolded.Â
âSorry. Habit.â Alfred merely tutted in response.Â
Danny did not want to focus on that. Yet his mind was already whirring. Demon Brat. That could only be his older brother. Alfred had called him Master Damian. Which meant the Damian Danny had met the other day. Danny had met his older brother. He felt⌠conflicted. Older Danny lamented, as his older sister, Jazz, had been incredible, one of the best siblings someone could ask for. Danny hadnât like Damian. At all. But⌠Tim had been Damianâs older brother. So that meant he was Dannyâs brother too. Tim wouldnât replace Jazz, no one could. But Danny was looking forward to an older sibling, one that he wasnât being compared to.Â
This didnât mean that he was living with Batman!
Wait, this meant Batman was Bruce!
âDanny? Are you still with me?â Tim asked worriedly. He was holding the unopened Motrin bottle. One of the others must have brought it to him. Heâd missed that.Â
âHuh? Yeah. Can I see it?âÂ
Tim didnât answer, handing it over. Danny skimmed the ingredients on the back. He also turned it over, checking the seal. It all looked good, so he let Tim pour himself some. Danny tipped his head back and took it like a shot of alcohol. That came from older Danny. Tim kept a calm, expressionless face, but Jason had clearly seen Danny throw back that little cup of Motrin, and he didnât look thrilled.Â
Danny got out of the tub on shaky legs. Alfred brought him a towel, and he reluctantly let the elderly gentleman help dry him. Danny made his way back to the couch, where he was basically swaddled in blankets. Danny refused to let someone feed him, insisting he could do it himself. Tim sat on the loveseat that was diagonal from the couch. He was resting his legs on the coffee table. After finishing the soup, which heâd thanked Alfred for, Danny sneakily made his way over to the loveseat. He wanted to sit next to Tim, snuggle into his side.Â
Being sick made it harder than normal. He was so weak right now. Danny could tell Tim was keeping an eye on him. It would be okay, as long as he wasnât rejected. Pulling himself and his mess of blankets onto the seat was the hardest part. Tim didnât react as Danny slowly leaned against him, resting his head on Timâs left arm. He wasnât pushed off, so he counted that as a success. Tim kept working, fingers flying across the screen. Not that Danny could see it, as the brightness was lowered when he came closer. There also seemed to be a privacy screen on the laptop.Â
Tim probably had a lot of sensitive stuff on there, as Red Robin.Â
Jason stretched out on the couch, returning to reading Pride and Prejudice. Not before snapping a picture of Danny and Tim on the couch. Danny glared at the man, but he wasnât cowed by his best one. Darn. Thankfully Tim wasnât having it.Â
âIf you send that to Dick and he comes here disrupting what trust Iâve built so far, there will be glitter in all of your safe houses and you wonât be safe for months,â Tim threatened, not even bothering to look up from his laptop. Danny couldnât help but laugh a little. It came out raspy and ended in a cough.Â
âFine, Baby Bird. Iâll wait. I just want to rub it in Dickieâs face.â Jason didnât sound that put out.Â
Danny sighed and snuggled a little closer to Tim. He had a lot to think about. This was all good for now, but did he really want to give in and live with his dad? Tim was nice. How long would that last? How long would any of this peace and care last? It never had in his previous life or this one. Little Danny wanted to give in and have a family. Older Danny was skeptical. He was paranoid.
Tim turned Bluey back on, and Danny watched it listlessly. He was still half out of it. Alfred came by, checking Dannyâs forehead and talking to Tim and Jason. The rest of the day was spent mostly resting and eating the warm soup that Jason and Alfred had made. Eventually both of them had to go. After they left, Danny felt good enough to take a shower. Heâd had to promise not to lock the door, so Tim could get in if he got too dizzy or anything.Â
It was worth it though, to be able to stand under the warm spray. It had been a long time since heâd been able to shower. A few months? It was good to wash the grime from his skin and watch it go down the drain. Some of it had come off when theyâd put him in the ice bath, but not all of it. Danny probably needed a haircut, as the wet hair was getting into his eyes a little.Â
After he got out, Danny investigated the cabinets. There were a lot of interesting products in the bathroom. Timâs lotion wasnât as thick as the one theyâd used in Nada Panbarat. He⌠might have put too much on. There was a surprising amount of makeup in here. And perfume. Well, technically cologne because Tim was a man. It all smelled horrible though. Danny ignored the cleaning supplies. There was shaving equipment, but nothing else that was very interesting. It was only after his investigation that he realized he didnât have any clean clothes to wear.Â
Looks like heâd have to ask Tim for some.Â
Danny exited the bathroom in a towel, padding over to where Tim was still on the couch.Â
âUm. Do you have any more clothes for me?â Tim looked up.Â
âOh. Yeah, Jason brought some. Itâs in that box over there. Hopefully it all fits. We had to guess your size.âÂ
Looking through the box, Danny found some nice blue pjs with stars all over them. His heart clenched. These⌠had been bought for him. Bought because they knew he liked the stars. He went back to the bathroom to change into them. Once that was done, Tim seemed surprised that Danny crawled back on the couch next to him, snuggling back into his spot. Really, why wouldnât he? Tim checked his temperature and made him take a bit more Motrin. Tim was hesitating. There was something he was worried about. Older Danny advised him to wait.Â
âDo you⌠do you want to sleep in the bed with me? It will be more comfortable than the couch,â Tim offered. Ah. Thatâs what he was nervous about. Little Danny was practically screaming in happiness and excitement. Older Danny was trying to keep their cool and not potentially screw everything up.Â
âYeah. If my fever gets worse, youâll be right there,â Danny agreed.Â
He could pretend, just for the night, that Tim was his family, his big brother and he was Timâs beloved baby brother. Ancients, that fever was making him a bit delusional. One night would be okay.Â
***
Heâd been with Tim for a full day now.Â
Danny needed to make a decision. Was he going to stay or was he going to go? He was in limbo here. He couldnât really just stay here with Tim, could he? Was Tim even an adult? He looked like he was on the edge between being a teenager and an adult. Tim did have his own apartment though, so probably adult? If he did leave, where would he go? Metropolis? Central City? Star City? Those all had heroes though. Heroes who were friends with Batman. That would surely get his dad to come and try to catch him.Â
If he stayed here, with Tim, his dad might leave him alone? But heâd also have to see him. Was that a bad thing, little Danny wondered. Older Danny didnât know. They had judged Batman based on how he looked. Bruce⌠had been weird and a bit awkward, but older Danny had been so, so awkward when heâd been a teenager in their previous life. Maybe Bruce had never grown out of that? It would explain how he had no shame when it came to running around in his fursuit. It wasnât even that great of a fursuit, older Danny snarked. Their friend Tucker had made much better ones.Â
Danny sighed.Â
He was so comfy in the bed. He didnât want to get up, but he was getting hungry. Tim was still out, the covers wrapped around him, drooling on the pillow. Danny sat up, alert, when he heard the security system beep, allowing someone in.Â
âTimmy! Baby Bird! Are you sick and hiding? Alfred doesnât go and make soup for just anyone. Tim?â called out a masculine voice. Danny didnât recognize it. Worried, Danny crawled closer to Tim and started shaking him.Â
âWha?â Tim sleepily asked. It was too late though, as the door to the bedroom opened.Â
âGood morning Sunshine! Itâs -â the man halted in the door frame, his mouth open in shock. Timâs eyes widened.Â
âDonât!â The man didnât listen, running forward and leaping onto the bed. He was going to touch them! He was going to touch Tim and Danny! Panicking, Danny held onto Timâs arm, turning them both intangible and invisible.Â
âTim? Danny?â The man sounded surprised and shocked when he landed on the bed, the springs creaking.Â
âThis feels⌠weird.â Tim said. Danny could see his faint outline turn towards him. âItâs okay Danny. Heâs not going to hurt us. Dickâs just super physically affectionate.â Danny thought that over. He didnât want to turn off his powers, not yet.Â
âHeâs the one that you told Jason not to text yesterday?â Tim sighed. Dick sat up, looking to where the sigh had come from.Â
âYeah. Dickâs over affectionate. I didnât think that youâd⌠want to be smothered in his hugs and attention. Not yet. Weâre still building trust here.âÂ
Feeling better with the answer, Danny let go of his powers before crawling behind Tim, peeking out at Dick. Oh boy. He could practically see Dick vibrating with the urge to hug Danny. No thank you! Older Danny didnât trust it and little Danny wasnât used to hugs. So it was a no go for now. Tim accepted a hug though.Â
âI brought breakfast. Itâs only for two, but I can go out and grab some more,â Dick offered.Â
âThanks,â Tim sounded relieved. Dick laughed.Â
âNo sweat. I canât cook either. Iâll see you two again in about⌠oh, thirty minutes or so? Thatâll be enough time for me to grab the food and for you two to get ready for the day.â Dick ruffled Timâs hair. His hand reached for Danny, but pulled back after Danny leaned away. He left the bedroom. Shortly after the security system beeped.Â
Danny crawled out from behind Tim.Â
Heâd made his decision.Â
Danny would stay with Tim, even if it meant having to deal with Batman. Tim understood him and didnât push for him to do anything and gave him choices. He was also totally aware of where they stood, that Danny didnât fully trust him yet. It also meant Danny would be warm, fed, and taken care of. Yes, Tim was the best choice.
Tim and Danny changed into clothes. He allowed his older brother Tim to check his temperature. The coffee maker got turned on and he got a glass of water. While Dick had left the two portions of food behind, it wasnât nice to eat it without him also being there. Whatever was in there smelled greasy and good. Dannyâs stomach growled. He climbed up onto the barstool to take a peek in the bag. Hash browns, sausages, eggs, pancakes, and more. All carby and delicious.Â
âYou can start eating. Dick wonât mind,â Tim said, sipping on his coffee.Â
Well. He had permission? Hesitantly, Danny pulled out one of the hash browns. It crunched so satisfyingly, with a nice, warm mushy middle. Greasy food was something older Danny had all the time in the other world. Little Danny hadnât tasted it yet. This was his first time. He hadnât been desperate enough to dumpster dive for food yet behind a McDonalds. Danny finished the first one, then grabbed the second one savoring it. The security system beeped. Dick was back.Â
âBoys! I have noms!â Dick cheered. He was grinning as he walked into the open concept kitchen and living room. He was carrying three bags of food.Â
âDick, how much food do you think we can eat?!?â Tim protested.Â
âNot a lot. But I texted Jason, and heâll be here soon. Oh! Here! I got them to give me all of the Happy Meal toys! I have a few things in the car that I need to bring up, so Iâll be back in a sec. Feel free to dig in!â Dick placed two of the bags on the counter and handed the third to Danny.Â
âWait a minute. You canât just invite people over to my apartment! Dick!âÂ
âSorry Tim! Canât hear you!â Dick sang as he walked back out. Tim huffed.Â
âDid you get anything good?â he asked, looking at the bag Dick had handed Danny.Â
Honestly, he didnât know. Reaching in, he pulled out the first one. It was Wonder Woman, her lasso up in the air. Okay, that was kinda cool. Flash, Green Lantern, Hawgirl, Martian Manhunter, Superman, andâŚ. Batman. Annoyed, he passed Batman to Tim.Â
âCan you put this in the trash please?â Tim took the Batman toy, looking at it and biting his lip.Â
âHow about I hold on to it? For now?â Danny didnât have a chance to answer as Dick came back into the apartment.Â
âAlright! Food time!âÂ
The three of them ate. Danny didnât talk much, listening to the two brothers talk. He tried to squash some of his jealousy. It was so⌠normal and mundane. How was work? How were their friends? How was Timâs boyfriend? When would Danny have a nice life like that? Heâd really like some friends please. Honestly, some friends, a home, three square meals a day, and a nice normal kindergarten werenât much to ask for.Â
Oh, he needed to ask Tim if he could live with him. Permanently. That was a lot to ask though. Maybe he should do the long con. Ask Tim if he could stay for a bit. Then just just never leave. Yeah, that might work. Danny sipped from the chocolate milk that Dick had gotten him. Halfway through breakfast, Jason came. He slotted right in with the others. He felt⌠ignored. Unseen. Left out. Ancient' emotions were so much stronger when you were little. Danny tried so hard not to cry. Not to show how sad he was.Â
He slid down off of the barstool, ignoring the looks he got from the others. They didnât stop talking though. Danny went back into Timâs bedroom and climbed onto his bed. He spent a few minutes dragging all of the blankets into the corner, where the mattress was pressed against the wall. His little nest of blankets. Maybe he could pretend for a little bit that he was being held and snuggled by his older brother Tim. He was being stupid though. Getting so attached to some guy who had shown him kindness. Expecting to fit right in, when theyâd all been brothers for years.Â
It still hurt though.Â
He wished he could fast forward. To where Tim and the others trusted him and he trusted them. Then he could get the physical affection he craved safely. Danny was pulled out of his thoughts by a gentle knock on the open door. Tim entered, but stayed by the doorway.Â
âDanny? Are you feeling okay?â It was nice that Tim was checking on him. It was probably because heâd been sick.Â
âMâfine,â he mumbled. Tim clearly didnât believe him, crawling in bed to feel his forehead. Danny let him.Â
âYouâre not warm.â Tim looked into Dannyâs eyes. He squirmed. It felt like Tim was analyzing him, staring into his very soul.Â
Seeing something in there, Tim just⌠picked him up. Danny didnât protest. He wrapped his arms around his brotherâs Timâs neck, burying his face into the manâs T-shirt. Tim let out a short, surprised laugh. Danny got carried back out to the group. He turned to pout and glare a little at Jason and Dick. He wanted some alone time with his brother Tim! Dick in particular looked smug.Â
âTold you,â he said with a blinding grin.Â
âYeah. Yeah you did. I didnât fully believe it, but you were totally right,â Tim responded.Â
âYouâre the chosen one, Timbo,â Jason teased.Â
âOh, shut up.âÂ
Danny didnât mind anymore, that the brothers were talking. He was snuggled against Tim. His brother person.Â
***
The rest of the day wasnât bad. It also wasnât great. Danny played a bit with the toys except for Batman. He had the Justice League fly around in the Javelin. While Tim hadnât been willing to throw Batman, Jason had. Heâd done it pretty gleefully too. Dick had rescued the stupid toy from the trash though. Whatever. It was pretty clear Dick was Nightwing and Jason was the Red Hood. He was smart. Also, Dick had brought out the astronaut Build a Bear toy. Overall, the day hadnât been bad. Dick had left, but Jason was lingering. Heâd made a really nice sage and apple chicken dinner with peas and mashed potatoes. It had been really good.Â
Danny put down the toy Javelin.Â
Something felt off, felt wrong.Â
Little Danny had gotten it beat into him to always follow his instincts. He got up and went over to Tim, tugging on his pants.Â
âSomethingâs wrong. I donât know what,â he alerted his brother Tim. Immediately, Timâs hand went to his forehead. Danny batted it away.Â
âNo, Iâm not sick again. Itâs something else, I donât -âÂ
Danny didnât get a chance to finish his sentence as the security system went off. Next thing he knew, there was the sound of an explosion outside, and the living room wall became dented and discolored.Â
âFuck!â Jason cursed. âTim!â Danny yelped as he was lifted into the air.Â
âIâve got Danny! Iâm going to set off the emergency beacon! B, Nightwing, and Robin are on patrol tonight. My gearâs in the bedroom and in the hall. You think you can hold âem off?â Tim yelled over the sound of another explosion. The wall was buckling. It wasnât going to withstand another hit.Â
âYou got it. My gearâs downstairs on my bike. Thereâs plenty of kitchen knives though,â Jason responded with a vicious grin.Â
Danny felt like a football as he was carried into the bedroom. He was lightly tossed onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress. Tim hurriedly stripped and opened a panel in the wall, frantically changing into his outfit. Once he was dressed, Tim looked back at him.Â
âStay.â
Danny huffed. Yeah, no. Danny wandered out, behind Tim. The wall was broken, and there were ninjas. Specifically members of the League of Assassins. His mother was there too, looking as calm and poised as ever.Â
âTimothy. My father would be disappointed if you were to be harmed. Do step aside. I merely wish to collect my son,â Mother said.Â
âYeah, thatâs not happening. He doesnât exactly want to go with you. He wants to stay with Timmy,â Jason laughed. âGuess he takes after Raâs that way.âÂ
âReally Jason?â Tim complained, his bo staff at the ready, body tense and ready to leap forward. Danny approached, standing next to his brother Tim. âDanny! Get back in the bedroom!â Tim hissed at him.Â
Nah.Â
Danny was going to help in this fight. If needed. The fighting started. Tim and Jason were holding their own. For now. Mother hadnât joined the fight. She looked Danny in the eye. Little Danny wavered. This was his MOTHER. Sheâd raised him. Sheâd taught him everything he knew. Older Danny rebelled. Just because she was his mom didnât mean that she was good! Talia had been cruel to them! Sheâd gotten them killed! It was her fault, her fault that they remembered who they were before, that their conscience was split in two. Hadnât Tim been kinder to him? Heâd taken care of Danny when he was sick. Heâd tried his best to give him space and go at his pace. Heâd gotten him food and let Danny snuggle him as much as he was comfortable with.Â
Tim and Jason were losing. They were outnumbered. Mother was walking towards him. Tim growled, doing his best to keep all of the assailants away from Danny, uncaring of the wound he received. Seeing how Tim was fighting for him⌠they were in agreement.Â
âGoing ghost,â Danny whispered to himself, letting the transformation wash over him.
All heads turned to look at Danny as light engulfed his body. He wasnât going to have much time, so he needed to make every bit count. Gathering the ectoplasm Lazarus magic in his hands, he sent it towards all of the attackers. It pinned them to the walls and the rubble around them, acting like a sticky glue. Danny stepped out from behind Tim, trying to look as confident as possible. He was going to need everything heâd learned in this life and the previous one to confront her and talk this through peacefully.Â
Shoulder back.Â
Head held high.Â
âMother.â She was looking at him in awe. He figured he still looked like he had in human form, just inverted. He also had no idea what clothes he was in. Danny was⌠taller than his mother. It dawned on him that his ghost form was the age of her older aspect of him. That both made sense and did not. It was older Danny at the forefront at this moment in time.Â
âDanyal,â she breathed. âYou have been blessed.â Oh boy. Right, the League of Assassins was basically an ectoplasm Lazarus Pit cult.Â
âBlessing. Curse. It depends on your perspective,â he told her, doing his best to sound mature and like an adult.Â
âBeing revived in the waters of the Lazarus Pit has given me clarity. They have given me a maturity I donât want and one that has shown me the path you had placed me on. Mother. I love you. I know you love me. It is not enough. I desire companionship. Friends. Siblings. To feel safe and carefree. To be able to play. That is something I will never have while living with you.â Danny saw a muscle in her jaw twitch at his words. He kept speaking, injecting some of his power, making his words stronger and resonate with power.Â
âChildhood is precious. The innocence that you seek to rip away from me can never be restored once it has been lost. The League claims to be for a better world and to rid it from corruption. Yet you would sacrifice a child? Your own flesh and blood to do so? Not only that, your desire for me to be strong caused you to have me train with a man who sought vengeance on our family; who ran his sword through my heart.â Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Nightwing, Batman, and Robin arrive. They were cautious, yet confused as to what was happening. Nightwing stopped to help Jason patch some of his wounds.Â
âYou are the cause of my creation. Yet you are also the reason I died. You are the reason I was blessed. The reason I have been cursed. You have soured the relationship between my biological brother by constantly comparing us. It will likely take years, potentially decades, for me to unpack and unwind the hate that I feel for him. There is a chance our relationship has been permanently destroyed. While I love you, this⌠power that I have been given warns me away from you. It speaks to me, telling me how toxic you are and how I will never be happy or at peace with you. Being with you will only make me miserable.â
âI love you, Mother.â Danny took a shaky breath.Â
âBut not enough to doom myself to a life of pain and suffering.â
âIt draws you towards your father?â she asked quietly. Ancients, he hated this. Talia was hiding it as best she could, but Danny could see her hurt and pain.Â
âNo. Someone who would willingly have children be vigilantes is not a healthy parent either.â Danny heard the muffled gasps and intakes of breaths from around him. None of them mattered at this point in time besides his mother and Tim. He stepped forward and cupped her face.Â
âMother. This does not mean we cannot ever see each other again. Nor does it mean that I hold less affection for you. Nothing will ever change the fact that I am of your blood. I beseech you to reconsider your path. It is never too late to take a different one.â Danny rested his forehead against hers.Â
He hated that he had to be this cruel and to hurt her with his words. He had to do it so she would let him go. Mother had loved his brother enough to let him so, so it only made sense that she would love Danny enough to separate from him too. Talia stepped back from him.Â
âGoodbye Danyal. I will stop my pursuit of you. Till we meet again, my little star.â She turned and walked away from him, jumping off the edge of the broken and ruined wall into the dark night.Â
OH.Â
She did know him well enough to know he loved the stars.
Dannyâs core throbbed and he released his hold on his ghost form, shrinking back to that of a child. The bonds holding the assassins faded, and they sprinted away, following his mother. Danny sniffed, tears falling down his cheeks. That had sucked. He hadnât wanted to do that. It was necessary. Older Danny had done a good job. He wiped his eyes. Tim gently touched his arm. Danny turned and flung himself at his brother the older boy, sobbing. He felt bad. Timâs apartment had gotten destroyed because of Danny.Â
Danny clung to Tim. He didnât let anyone else take him. Tim grappled them to the Batcave. His Javelin toy had been destroyed. Danny decided to ignore the fact that there was a smaller tracker in the body of the plane. It was obvious that was how Tim had found him a few days ago when heâd hid between the air conditioner units. The astronaut bear had survived though. Dick - Nightwing - wanted to take him, but Danny refused to let go of Tim. He even turned intangible a bit so Dickâs hands would go right through him. Danny didnât want to leave his older brother person.Â
There was a lot of arguing. None of them knew what to make of Dannyâs affliction. Thatâs what they called his ghost form. Theyâd apparently dealt with ectoplasm Lazarus Pit water before. Jason especially. They hadnât become half ghosts like Danny though. It sounded like they didnât even know what that was. Tim tried to convince Danny to talk, to speak up and explain what he knew. He just grumbled and told them not now. He was still hurting. He didnât want to sleep yet. But Nocturne was calling for him, dragging him under. He let himself succumb.Â
***
He had nightmares. Could they be called that, if they were just repeats of what had happened that day? His harsh words to his mother and her walking away. Danny woke up a few times that night, tears falling down his cheeks and a whimper stuck in his throat. Each time he was encouraged to fall back asleep by a large, warm hand that would stroke his hair and tucked a soft blanket around him. After the fitful night, he woke up.Â
Danny was still in the cave. He was on a cot, surrounded with soft blankets. During the night, someone must have given him the bear, as he was cuddling it. It was soothing, to cling to it. To bury his face in its soft fur. He ignored the man in the chair next to the cot. His father.Â
âHow are you feeling?â His father, Batman, asked. He wasnât in his Batman gear anymore. Just a dark turtleneck and slacks. He looked tired. Danny shrugged, not wanting to talk. He looked around. Where was Tim? He wanted Tim.Â
Danny didnât answer his dad. He really didnât know what to make of the man. Bruce had been okay, if a bit overbearing at the observatory. Heâd spent a lot of the time watching Danny and Damian and keeping Damian from exploding when Danny pressed his buttons. Batman had chased and chased after him. Just wanting to catch him and keep him. What did he want with Danny? He just wanted Tim. Tim was safe and nice and would explain things. He would give Danny a choice instead of just forcing him to do what he wanted.Â
That was why Danny liked Tim.Â
âDanny?â Batman asked, watching him carefully.Â
âWhereâs Tim?â Danny asked softly. He had regained some of his strength. He could turn invisible and intangible for a bit. Probably. The problem was that he didnât know where Tim was.Â
âTim is upstairs in his room sleeping. Did you want to see him?â Danny blinked in surprise and nodded. âFollow me.âÂ
He hadnât been expecting that. Grabbing the astronaut bear, Danny followed Batman/Bruce through the cave and to an elevator. He stood on the opposite end during the ride up, glancing at his father often. They exited through a clock? It was a cool secret door. He followed Bruce down some halls and up a set of stairs. He knocked on a door.Â
âTim? Are you awake? Thereâs someone who wants to see you.â There was a groan from within.Â
Danny perked up. That was totally Tim! Turning intangible, he ran through the closed door and into the dark room. He jumped on the bed. Sure enough, eyes barely open, that was Tim. Danny crawled up towards his brotherâs personâs face. He laid down in the crook of the other manâs arms, nuzzling into Timâs chest. Danny felt better here. Safer. The door opened and a triangle of light fell onto the bed. Tim groaned, and hand flying up to protect his eyes.Â
âItâs way too early for this,â Tim complained. There was a light chuckle from the door.Â
âChum, itâs nearly noon.âÂ
âLies,â Tim said with a sigh. He sad up a bit, jostling Danny. Tim looked down, seeming to realize Danny was there. âCoffee. I need so much coffee.â
Right. Heâd only been with Tim for a day or two, but he already knew that his brother didnât function very well without his caffeine. Tim staggered out of bed, fumbling to get into his slippers. Danny slid down to follow him. Should he go for Timâs hand? Yes, he wanted to hold it. Using a burst of courage, he took Timâs hand. Tim stopped in the hallway, looking down at their joined hands. Oh no. Did Tim not want to hold hands?!? Dannyâs face burned and he tried to let go. Except⌠he couldnât. Tim gripped his hand tightly, then resumed walking, Danny following in surprise. There was a hum from behind them. Right. Bruce. He was still there. Danny had kinda forgotten about him.Â
The dining room was empty, so they went into the kitchen. Tim still held his hand as he began to fill the coffee machine with ground beans and water. It was rather funny watching. Mr. Pennyworth came out from what Danny suspected was a pantry.Â
âMaster Timothy. Wonderful to see you up and about. Iâd feared we wouldnât see you until supper.â Oooh. Mr. Pennyworth had some sass and snark to him! Danny giggled.Â
âMaster Danny. Wonderful to see you. Would you like some hot chocolate? Lunch will be ready in half an hour. Can you boys wait that long?â Mr. Pennyworth asked this as he confidently strode through the kitchen; checking in the oven, stirring a pot on the stove, and washing lettuce for a salad.Â
âYes, I would like some hot chocolate. Thank you,â Danny responded. He liked Mr. Pennyworth, so heâd be polite.Â
âI can wait till lunch is ready. Although I wouldnât mind a small snackâŚâ Tim said, sitting down at the table.Â
Danny sat down next to him. Bruce sat across from them. Before he knew it, hot chocolate was placed before him. He sipped on it and Tim drank his coffee. Bruce was just watching them. Danny did his best to ignore his father. He still had his bear. He wished he had his javelin. It was sad that itâd gotten broken the other day. Alfred gave them a plate with some crackers, cheese, and little meats. It was basically a charcuterie board. It was yummy and he kept going. He stopped when heâd eaten about half of the board. Tim had eaten some along with him.Â
The silence was awkward.Â
He wasnât going to break it though.Â
When Mr. Pennyworth told them lunch was ready, all three of them walked to the dining room. Danny made sure to grab Timâs hand again. Danny wasnât expecting others to be there. He saw Dick, Jason, Damian, and two women. One had blonde hair, the other black. That could only mean Spoiler and Black Bat. Dick got up as they walked in. He had a large grin on his face. He pulled back the chair Tim had been heading towards. Dick patted it.Â
âThanks?â Tim sounded confused. Thatâs okay, Danny was confused too. He didnât see a whoopie cushion or anything on the seat, but that didnât mean there wasnât some sort of hidden prank. Tim sat down. Danny let go, as he was going to sit in his own seat. Even if he would have a hard time looking over the edge of the table. Danny was rather small for a five year old. Heâd been taller at five in his previous life.Â
Danny got what Dick was doing when he felt himself get picked up. Except. Danny didnât want to be touched by Dick. He didnât want to be picked up by Dick. He only trusted Tim right now. So he unleashed some of his freeze powers to make Dick let him go! He growled, angry at being picked up without his consent. Danny stopped as soon as he was placed in Timâs lap.Â
Oh.
Okay, maybe he could somewhat forgive Dick for that. Danny turned to look at Dick, wincing when he saw the blue and purple hands. There were even little ice crystals on there. The entire room was tense, and there were tears in his eyes as he was trying to hold onto a smile.Â
âIâm sorry. I didnât know what you were doing,â Danny explained guiltily. âIâll fix it.âHe reached out, to try and draw the ice and cold back into him. He could do that.Â
Probably.Â
Thankfully it worked as Dickâs skin returned to normal.Â
âNote to self. Donât pick up the baby without getting his consent,â the blonde woman muttered.Â
âItâs alright, I know you didnât mean it. Iâll know better for next time,â Dick said. Danny wasnât sure if he really was forgiven. He cuddled closer to his brother. Dick pushed the chair in, so Danny and Tim were in the same seat.Â
***
When Tim had gone to sleep last night, heâd acknowledged that Danny, Damianâs biological little brother, was attached to him. It was becoming all the more clear how attached to Tim he was. The selfish part of him loved it. Heâd always wanted a little brother. When Damian had first arrived, heâd been so excited. That feeling had been killed quickly. Danny though. He trusted Tim, and no one else. Tim was the first person he looked to. Danny had tried to protect Tim, when Dick had come in unannounced the other day, using his powers to density shift both of them.Â
Tim felt sorry for Bruce, that there was another son that wasnât really accepting him. But he couldnât help feeling happy that Danny loved him and no one else. Heâd been jealous of the closeness between Dick and Damian. Now though. Now he had a chance to have that relationship with Danny.Â
A close brotherly relationship that heâd always wanted but hadnât really gotten with Dick, Damian, or Jason.
The GIW knows Amity Park is a huge fraud. The âmost haunted city in the USâ, really? Theyâve been checking the place out for decades with nary a peep aside from that couple of crazy scientists that moved into town around twenty years prior.
Because of this, the town became a punishment duty. One of their agents causes trouble? They get put in time out and sent to work for a while in Amity Park. Let those idiots chase after pointless rumors while the actually competent agents work with the more important ghosts. The reports back from the town get barely more than a cursory glance before getting tossed in the shredder.
âŚWhich really came back to bite them when ghosts did actually start to show up, and they didnât realize until after the Amity Park branch had royally screwed up the situation.
Fuck, they really hope this doesnât start a war.
Optional DPxDC addition: they call in the Justice League Dark for help with negotiation and taking down their rogue members
This was it. Today was the day. Today, Evan Stewart was going to organize the GIW archives so that old files could finally be dug up through their very rational and navigable system.
Thatâs not a normal thing to do, Stewart. No one cares about the file room, Stewart. Get back to analyzing the anomalies in the tri-state area, Stewart. Well, to hell with the naysayers! The file system needed to be organized and Evan was going to do it.
âŚOkay, but it was really boring. Evan had been working on nothing else for almost five hours now, and his eyes were starting to cross from sorting out all the dates and locations. Even the fact that they were all cool reports of things like Mothman sightings and agitated spirits could only do so much to ease the endless stream of sequential numbers.
He found a breath of relief when he accidentally dug up the Amity Park box and snickered to himself. This should be good; the gossamer-thin veil between Amity Park and the spirit realm meant that the area needed to be monitored, but nothing interesting there had happened. Ever. Not once since the GIW had first been founded in the 50âs. So the place had been relegated to a sort of punishment duty, the GIW equivalent to weeks-long stakeouts with little guarantee of payoff. The reports were usually filed without being read.
Evan settled in to read a long series of resentful reports from disciplined agents being sent on wild goose chases, smirking to himself. The smirk didnât last three reports.
Twenty minutes later, Evan picked up the whole box and ran to the analytics department, sweating bullets.
---------
âSo this is the situation,â Juno began, doing her best to appear unruffled, despite the fact that they were in an emergency meeting almost two hours after the workday shouldâve been over. âTwenty-four years ago, Dr. Jack Fenton and Dr. Madeline Fenton theorize that the spirit realm could be reached through a man-made portal. Their prototype explodes in their lab partnerâs face. We laugh at them and forget about it.â She paused, glancing across the room. No one was laughing now. âFour years ago, they managed it.â
Juno had worked for the GIW for more than forty years. Sheâd been the head of the analytics department for almost twenty, working as the communications hub between research, spiritual relations, and security. She thought sheâd seen it all by now. The situation at Amity Park? Was like nothing sheâd even imagined.
âHow the f-â Byron caught the bossâ eye and stopped himself. âHow?â
âThatâs not the main problem right now,â Juno said. The research department would be looking into it, of course, but there were more immediate concerns. âObviously, with a permanent portal open between the human world and the spirit realm, all hell broke loose, literally. There are ghost attacks, plural, every day.â
âHow many fatalities?â Paul asked, leaning back in his seat with a grim look. As head of security, heâd probably seen his fair share of agitated ghosts, and some of them could get nasty.
Individual spirits could usually be appeased without too much trouble, contained if necessary, but a flood of spirits straight from the spirit realm? Even a well-staffed branch like New Orleans or San Francisco would struggle. Amity Park had a skeleton crew.
âSo far? None,â Juno said. She folded her arms behind her back with a sigh. âBy some miracle, the actual grace of God, I assume, a guardian spirit took up a post there very early on. Judging from the descriptions, heâs newly dead, five years at most, and it must have been brutal, because heâs keeping everything in check almost single-handedly and despite the interference of amateur ghost hunters. The⌠poor quality of the information is making it difficult to discern what his exact criteria are, but our leading theory suggests that heâs a peacekeeper of some kind.â
Meaning he wanted everyone to be safe, which was a godsend in the current situation. Most guardian spirits werenât so forgiving, even if they tended to be more morally driven than other ghosts.
Leon, the GIW head, sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was the only one there whoâd been on board longer than Juno, going from research to security to analytics before finally settling into a leadership role. Heâd been the one to establish deescalation as the primary protocol of the GIW. âAnd dare I ask what the Amity branch was doing during all this?â
âIâm so glad you did!â Juno chirped, a vein pulsing in her temple. âTheyâre among the amateur ghost hunters shooting at the guardian spirit. Theyâve decided to detain him for experimentation and execution. For some fucking reason.â
She allowed them all a minute to absorb that. Several heads went âthunkâ on the tables. Some composure had apparently been lost as they transitioned to overtime.
âWhat course of action do you recommend, Agent J?â Leon asked tiredly. Theyâd worked together for long enough that he trusted her judgment.
âWe need to send a new, competent team out to Amity Park,â Juno said. âIâll have some recommendations on your desk by tomorrow afternoon. I suggest only transferring in agents with excellent spiritual relations skills, and as few combat agents as we can get away with. Trust me, if half the reports are true, that guardian spirit doesnât need any help on that front, and heâll only feel threatened by them. Weâll need to do a full internal review of the Amity base staff, but most likely the whole branch will have to go. After that, we need to speak with the Fentons and the Red Huntress, as well as the guardian spirit that now essentially owns Amity Park. This situation needs to be deescalated yesterday. And Agent Lambda?â
Leon raised an eyebrow, and Juno took a deep breath.
âThe guardian spirit is a child ghost. They need to be careful with him.â They might not be any physical threat to a ghost of his described power, but ghosts were sensitive at the best of times, and this one had been through a lot in a relatively short amount of time.
Elena Alamilla, Agent E, got her first glimpse of Amity Parkâs guardian two days after she transferred in. He was exactly as the reports described, to a degree that was startling; sheâd never seen ghosts so solid before, let alone one that was also so newly dead. In the right circumstances, Phantom couldâve been mistaken for a living teenager, white hair and all. Kids liked messing with their hair.
These were not the right circumstances. One of Amityâs ârepeat visitors,â a ghost identifying himself as Technus, had taken over a parking lot and was loudly declaring his intent to become a Transformer. He was making a surprising amount of progress.
âIntroducing you to those movies was a mistake!â Phantom yelled, and then rammed into the construct feet-first at a high enough velocity that it went crashing down with an indignant shout.
âHave you ever seen anything like this before?â Agent T asked Elena, not taking her brown eyes off the fight. Her honey-blonde hair was braided back, out of her face, and she tugged nervously on the end, unintentionally betraying her discomfort with the proximity of the fight.
Elena considered. She had sixteen yearsâ experience to Tâs four, all in one of the GIWâs most active branches, so it wasnât unusual for the younger agent to check with her. âAfter Hurricane Katrina,â she said after a moment. âThat riled up most of the spirits in the area, it wasnât pretty. But these two seem to be in a pretty good mood; I think theyâre playing. You donât usually see ghosts blow this much power on play.â
âI WILL BECOME TECHNUS PRIME!â Technus screamed. âAND CONQUER THIS TINY HUMAN PLANET!â
âYou missed the whole point of the movie, dude!â
Agent T whistled, twisting her braid hard. âI would hate to see either of them in a bad mood.â
Elena watched Technus fending Phantom off with one hand while he psychically tore the cars apart and fused them back together in a more Transformer-like shape. âThatâs why weâre here, isnât it? Find a way to keep everyone happy. If all this guy wants is to play with human tech and pretend to be a Transformer, weâll drag together a junkyard just for him. Iâve done more work to appease weaker ghosts, honestly.â
âIs it that easy?â Agent T looked rightfully doubtful.
âNo,â Elena admitted. She blew a black lock out of her face with a grimace. Sheâd need to pick up more hair ties; there was too much action here to leave it down. âFor one thing, I think he came here to play with Phantom.â
Agent T frowned. âWhat makes you say that?â
Elena nodded at the bickering ghosts. âMost ghosts that you find in the material world are either bound here, like Phantom, or they fell through a natural portal and got stuck. Technus isnât either of those - and heâs not trying to stay here, so heâs visiting. But he came here for a reason. Either he actually wants to be a Transformer, which he could probably do in the spirit realm, or he wants to fight Phantom.â
Phantom smashed through one of the Transformerâs arms, sending the dangling portion crashing to the ground. Technus swatted him away hard enough to crack the trunk of the tree he hit, then started trying to rebuild the broken arm.
âThis is crazier than that guy that wanted us to reassemble his beanie baby collection,â T muttered.
âNot getting cold feet, are you, T? I thought you were all excited about the research opportunities here.â Elena wasnât really surprised. Amity Park and all that it promised would be overwhelming for most agents, even the more experienced ones.
Agent T huffed. âNo! Just⌠processing. These ghosts are so next-level powerful that itâs hard to grasp that theyâre the same thing as always. I donât think Iâve ever seen a ghost do more than shatter windows before.â
Elena gave her a reassuring smile. âMaybe itâs easier when youâve seen the full scale,â she said. âFocus less on the destruction, more on what drives them. Ghosts donât do anything they donât want to do, so figure out what their goal is and help them out. I promise you, theyâre all just people underneath the fuss. These two? Theyâre just roughhousing, and theyâre-â She winced as Phantomâs body cracked a concrete wall. â-getting a little careless with it.â She grinned. âBoys being boys.â
âBoys being boys,â Agent T muttered incredulously, but she did seem more relaxed after that.
Elena leaned back to watch the encounter. Like sheâd said, ghosts usually reserved displays of power like this for when they were actually upset. But these two had essentially unlimited access to ectoplasm, and so there was nothing stopping them from expending as much as they wanted. It was, in its own way, fascinating. There were so many unusual dynamics at play here. If the last guys hadnât stirred up the locals so bad, this wouldâve become their most active research facility overnight.
Soon after, Phantom phased through Technusâ Transformer, and Technus came tumbling out with an outraged wail. Phantom tossed him, then kicked him into the ground and grabbed something off his hip - a capture device, the âFenton Thermos,â that seemed to be his signature.
âNext time Iâll show you Star Trek,â Phantom promised Technus, and then caught him in the miniature vortex. Technus wailed indignantly as he was pulled inside, and then Phantom attached the thermos back onto his belt.
Belatedly, Elena registered that the fight was over, which meant-
âWait, oh shit, oh shit,â Elena muttered, hurrying back to the van and gesturing for Agent T to do the same. T did so without question, but it was too late; by the time theyâd started it up, Phantom was already gone. Elena set her head against the wheel and sighed. âAh, hell.â
âDonât worry,â T said dryly, glancing around at the destruction. Already Amity Parkers were starting to wander back in, confident that their guardian spirit had made it safe. âIâm sure weâll get plenty of other chances to talk to him.â
It only took another few days to - well, Elena didnât want to say corner him, that had bad connotations right now, but they got close enough to talk to him. He was chatting with a few of the other regulars, the biker ghost and his girlfriend and shadow, and all four of them stiffened as the GIW van approached.
Decisively, Elena stopped it and got out early, hands in the air, and they let her approach - thirty feet, twenty feet. Phantom slid in front of the other ghosts and took a guarded stance, and the biker pulled his girlfriend onto the bike and revved it with a glare, but if that was as hostile as things got, Elena would count it as a win.
âHey,â she called out, keeping her voice calm. âIâm sorry to interrupt, but Iâd like to do the polite thing and make a tribute to the guardian spirit before we officially settle into his territory. Itâs okay if you and your death-bound stick around, I know you probably donât want me around anyone so newly dead.â
She was maybe laying it on a little thick, but people tended to sit up and take notice when you used the same cultural terms that they did, and ghosts were no different. It was a form of respect, to match language with someone, and she did her best - tribute, guardian spirit, his territory, death-bound, newly dead. Terms that ghosts used to talk about themselves, which were almost always distinct from the language used by both ectologists and spiritualists. (GIW agents usually fell into a bastardized blend of all three.)
And sure enough, she caught their attention. The biker and his girl exchanged a baffled look, and Phantom gave the other two a quick glance before returning his attention to Elena, still wary but not quite as defensive.
âIs this a joke?â Phantom asked sharply. His voice echoed faintly, resonating with itself. âYouâre the Guys in White. You might be new here, but I recognize those uniforms. Youâve been here almost as long as I have.â
Elena took a deep breath. The trick would be explaining it simply enough that the young ghost wouldnât lose patience with them, but thoroughly enough to give them a second chance. âNo jokes here,â she promised, hiding her nerves the best she could. If any of these ghosts lashed out⌠âThe local admin, Agent Alpha, has been operating against official GIW policy for years now. He and everyone that worked under him has been fired. Weâre moving ahead now with approved protocols, starting with making an offering to any guardian spirits that have settled in the area.â
Phantom scowled at her, unimpressed. This close, she could see that mist was wisping off the ends of Phantomâs hair, the start of a morph. His wary snarl bared fangs, and his skin was tinted a faint green. It was fascinating to see such a young ghost so clearly; the green ran along illusory veins, barely visible in his temple and cheeks.
âDo you think Iâm an idiot?â Phantom snapped. His ectoplasmic gaze was piercing; Elena had never seen eyes so vivid before. âGet the heck out of here.â
Elena winced. This wasnât going well. But the female ghostâs eyes narrowed, studying her and her partner with sharp eyes. T shifted nervously, taking half a step back before stopping herself.
âPhantom, wait.â Phantom raised his eyebrows at the woman, but nodded once, and she continued, âYou mentioned a tribute, right? Letâs see if itâs something worth having.â Her derisive tone said she doubted it, but honestly, it wasnât anything Elena wasnât used to hearing from more powerful ghosts.
âWhat the heck is a tribute?â Phantom hissed to the woman. Both she and the biker ghost snorted.
He was seventeen, Elena thought, maybe eighteen at a stretch. Edging into adulthood, but baby fat clung to his cheeks and softened his face, and his shoulders werenât as broad as they might have become. With both feet on the ground, his image crystal clear, she again thought that she could have mistaken him for human, but for the bright glow that cast shadows even in the light of day.
She couldnât even call it an uncanny valley effect; the resemblance was comforting rather than unsettling, and a part of her wanted to step forward and hug him. She held herself back. This was a guardian spirit, not a human child.
âItâs how you curry favor with a powerful ghost,â the biker ghost said, low enough that Elena almost couldnât hear. They were still uncomfortably tense, Phantom not taking his eyes off her even as he listened. âWeâre too backwater to do that around here, there didnât used to be anyone worth buttering up like that, but people do it to ask to move onto someoneâs territory or for help with a problem or something.â
âDidnât used to be?â Phantom echoed, brow furrowed, and both ghosts rolled their eyes at him. Elena hid a smile and noted to herself that despite Phantomâs considerable power, typical age dynamics seemed to play out between him and the older spirits.
âSo, human, what did you bring?â the female ghost demanded, tapping her foot impatiently.
Elena slipped her hand into her bag, swallowing nervously as all three ghosts followed the motion. Then she pulled out the offering HQ had provided, and both older ghosts whistled in impressed unison. No recognition in the guardian spiritâs eyes, though; they were lucky the other two were here.
âDamn, alright,â the biker huffed, and elbowed Phantom in the side. Phantom grunted in irritation and hopped a few steps away, like a kid. âTake it. Thatâs Angelâs Ambrosia. Most ghosts never even see one of these.â
Phantom didnât look convinced, but he held out his hand. Elena tossed it over: a small, round fruit that looked a lot like a mangosteen, but with a sky blue rind. It split easily under Phantomâs hands, revealing the honey-colored fruit, segmented like a tangerine and glowing faintly.
ââŚYou can keep talking,â Phantom said after a moment. He took two segments and offered one each to the other ghosts, who looked surprised but pleased. âAnd you can put your hands down. I know you donât have any weapons on you.â
Elena did so with a shaky exhale. âIâm Agent E, and this is Agent T,â she said, indicating T behind her. She kept her voice even and steady, but her eyes lowered from Phantomâs. âWe were transferred here from the New Orleans branch. The new admin, Agent Mu, is from there too. Iâve been watching her calm agitated spirits for over a decade, and she strictly disciplines agents that are disrespectful to the dead.â Phantom jerked his head slightly. Go on. âSheâs put agents on desk duty for raising their voice. The last time someone fired on an nonviolent spirit, they were let go on the spot.â
âDefine nonviolent.â Phantomâs suspicious look didnât waver. Given what ghosts were like around here, Elena supposed it made sense.
âLizzie was agitated, and things were flying, but she hadnât attacked anyone outright,â Elena clarified. As sheâd hoped, Phantomâs shoulders loosened subtly at the way she referred to the other ghost. âOfficial policy says that no one fires on a ghost unless they attack someone directly, and to only subdue them if theyâre actively endangering civilians.â It wasnât usually a firing offense, but Maya really was particularly strict.
The other two ghosts looked bored now, but something about the way they stood on either side of Phantom told Elena that they were still tense. A third ghost morphed out of the bikerâs shadow and begged, and Phantom gave them a segment of the fruit without looking. It was still cupped in his hands, untouched save what heâd shared with the others.
âThe other agents⌠they were rushed out, werenât they? How many are moving in?â Phantom asked. His voice snapped out like a whip, confident and demanding, far from the playful quips that usually characterized him.
âSix,â T said, from Elenaâs right. Phantomâs attention shot to her, and she met his eyes. (Challenge behavior; Elena would have to warn her about that.) âAlong with us and Agent Mu, there are two scientists, Agents G and N. Agent G is spiritually sensitive.â Phantomâs brow furrowed, and T caught on before Elena did. âThat is, he can sense the presence of ghosts and liminals. And Agent S, the combat agent, is for legal reasons. Heâll stay on base when in uniform.â Phantom scowled, but didnât verbally object.
âThe scientists. What do they do? What are their specialties?â Phantom asked sharply. It was a fair question considering what Agent Alpha had directed the previous science staff to do. Elena suppressed a shudder. Standard cleanup hadnât been enough to get rid of what those guys had left behind.
âAgent N is an ectopsychologist,â T answered calmly. âHe studies ghost behavior on an individual and group level. The unusual ghost interactions here present a unique opportunity on that front. Agent G specializes in ectoradiation. This area is saturated in it, and weâd like to make sure there are no adverse effects.â There was a long list of GIW scientists clamoring to visit Amity Park already, but they needed to keep the staff limited and harmless for the moment.
Phantom considered them for a moment, then nodded sharply, apparently deeming them acceptable. âWhat do you want?â he asked, no less wary but dropping the protective steel edge heâd had before. Tellingly, all three other ghosts relaxed, stepping away out of their tight formation.
Phantom finally picked out one of the segments and popped it into his mouth, and his eyes actually closed for a moment, letting out a pleased moan. Elena smiled to herself. Supposedly, something about the fruit resonated with a ghostâs core, and it tasted like bliss.
âWeâre hoping to establish peaceful relations with you,â T said, still unwavering. Hands at her sides, but palms forward, open. Relaxed. âThe situation at Amity Park needs to be deescalated; itâs too volatile right now. If anything happens to you, everything comes crashing down.â Phantomâs scowl said this wasnât news to him. âWeâll talk to the Fentons and the Red Huntress, try to get them to calm down. You keep doing what youâre doing. Is that acceptable?â
Phantom tilted his head, studying them. âWhatâs the catch?â
They exchanged a look. Agent T shifted uneasily, and Elena shook her head, trying to reassure her. Typical guardian spirit behavior - they tended towards paranoia.
âWeâll be a lot more active in town than the last guys,â Elena said at last, looking back at Phantom. âThey kept to themselves when they werenât hunting, right? But youâll probably see us around town a lot. Weâll be doing PR work, teaching people about ghosts-â Phantom scowled harder. â-the real stuff about ghosts, the way you talk about yourselves.â The scowl eased, but he was still frowning. âAnd we might suggest some changes to try and keep damages down. There are less destructive ways to keep ghosts happy.â
ââŚYou can stay,â Phantom decided, eyes narrowed. He cupped the rest of the fruit against his chest possessively. âBut Iâll be watching you.â
âYou can even show up and ask questions if youâd like,â Elena promised him. âWeâll explain anything weâre doing to you.â It was important, very important, to get on this ghostâs good side and stay there. âAre there any rules we need to follow while weâre here?â
Phantom raised his eyebrows, like he was surprised to be asked, but he nodded.
âYou donât threaten anyone with a weapon, donât capture any ghosts, donât blackmail anyone,â he ordered. âIf you start intimidating people, Iâll know about it.â That was somehow even more threatening. âAnd you two!â T jumped, but Phantom turned to the ghosts. âDonât break anything, donât scare anyone. The Red Huntress will be out at five. You have âtil then. Thanks for the help.â
All three of them grinned at him.
âDonât mention it,â the biker said, leaning forward on his bike. His girlfriend hopped behind him. âSee you around, Phantom.â
He glanced at Elena and T, scowled at them, and disappeared. Phantom kicked off the ground, and did the same only seconds later. With that, they were alone.
Elena wiped the sweat off her brow.
âHope we get used to these guys quick,â she said ruefully. âThat was more stressful than those unlicensed summoners last year.â
I have ideas bouncing in my head and cannot do anything with them, so I shall place them here in hopes that someone sees my plea for it to be written-
Possible Ghost King Danny AU here and just like, the absolute drama when the G.I.W. learns that said protector spirit is also the literal king of all ghosts now.
Even if itâs not a Ghost King AU Still pleanty of shenanigans to go around when they find out that the ENTIRE TOWN ended up in the ghost zone, and Phantom fought off the literal ghost king to save the town (and his rogues). Like holly specters they need to be even more careful, because this ghost just broke the power scale.
Reveal shenanigans. Like, they eventually learn that Dannyâs half humaan and not full ghost and on the one hand, fascinating, how does that even work? On the other hand, oh gods, this has been a literal child, still in school, keeping the town safe. Sure things have calmed down now, but the fights sure seemed serious in the beginning if those reports are to be believed. Also, wait, the protector spirit is the son of the ghost hunters who made the portal?! Is he safe?! Theyâre trying to dissect his ghost form! Oh my lord, he died how?!
Agent G. Theyâre spiritually sensitive. Can they still tell that Danny is Phantom when in human form, or does he just read as way more liminal than the others? Does Agent G struggle to pinpoint anything specific because like, littersally everyone in town is at least a little liminal, or is everything very clear and easy to read? I have questions!
I've been putting off the Good GIW AU until I finish Life and Death (it's not so far off now!!) but here's a bit more because it's been so long, again-
---
Cory sprouted an enormous headache the moment he laid eyes on FentonWorks, and it only got worse the longer he looked at it. "What the hell is that."
Agent G shrugged, only a faint furrow in his brow betraying his thoughts. Cory sighed, resigned himself to the situation, and stepped forward to knock on the front door. He in no way wanted to be responsible for delivering a certified Official Apology to the Fenton family, but unfortunately the only available alternative was Agent G, which was out of the question.
No one answered the door. Cory hesitated, then pressed the doorbell. He listened for footsteps.
He was still listening for footsteps when the front door opened, and a black-haired teenager opened the door to raise an eyebrow at them, eyes narrowing when he noticed their uniforms. G inhaled sharply, but didn't speak up, leaving Cory to address the kid.
"Excuse me, are you Daniel Fenton?" he asked politely. He matched the description of the Fentons' youngest child.
"Danny," the kid said flatly. "And you're the Guys in White. What do you want?"
The hostility was, unfortunately, already proving to be pretty common around here. The rogue branch had really not made themselves popular among the locals. "I'd like to speak to your parents. They work from home, don't they?"
Danny grunted, but after a moment he gestured for them to come in. He crossed the room to open a door and called down, "Mom! Dad! The Guys in White want to talk to you!"
"We'll be up in a minute, sweetie! Put them in the living room!"
Danny left the door open and jerked his head pointedly toward a couple of couches. Cory nodded in return, and all three of them headed over there. Cory and G took one couch, while Danny opted to lean on a wall instead, watching them with a displeased frown. G stared back, green eyes under ruffled brown hair, so that might have had something to do with the kid's defensiveness.
It took a few minutes for the Drs. Fenton to clamor up from the lab, and Cory was very certain that was the right word, because they made a lot of noise. Jack burst through first, very much the largest man Cory had ever seen, and Maddie was almost unnoticeable by comparison, except she had the same suspicious look as her son.
"THE LAB IS NOT FOR SALE!" Jack declared sternly. Cory stared at him. Maddie sighed and patted his arm.
"They only tried that once, dear, I'm sure they're here about... something else." She'd put on a polite smile, but it was still strained by her wary eyes. "Why don't you join them in the living room and I'll get everyone some water?"
"Of course, sweetums!" Jack kissed her on the cheek, then bounced over to the empty couch. Did this man really have two doctorates? Cory couldn't imagine him sitting still long enough. "Danny! Have these men done anything shady here?"
"No, Dad. I'm keeping an eye on them." It should've sounded funny, but there was something unsettling about Danny's steady, untrusting gaze.
"We're not here to take anything," Cory said, shifting the folders in his arms. "The local branch of the GIW is undergoing a personnel overhaul, since Headquarters discovered that the previous staff had... gone rogue."
"Gone rogue?" Jack echoed with a frown.
Cory nodded, but didn't elaborate until Maddie had returned, juggling a few too many glasses of water. Danny rescued her, taking half of them and helping set them out on the coffee table. Maddie gave him an affectionate smile before joining her husband on the couch. None of them touched the water.
"So, how can we help you?" Maddie asked, equally polite. Cory sighed and shifted the folders he was holding again.
"First, I'd like to officially apologize on behalf of the GIW," he said. Maddie's eyebrows flew up, and Danny crossed his arms, distrustful. Cory kept his attention on the two doctors. "Your research was clearly more sound than any of us gave you credit for, and we should have taken you more seriously when you first put your theories forward. You have accomplished something that we believed was impossible."
"You bet we did!" Jack shouted, punching the air with a grin. "And we did it without anyone's help! Take that!"
Maddie waited for her husband to finish, then picked up the thread. "We appreciate the acknowledgement," she said evenly, studying him with sharp eyes. "But, as Jack said, it's a bit late to help us with it now. What are you really here for?"
Cory suppressed another sigh.
"Under normal circumstances, GIW research is considered strictly classified," he said, holding out the folder to Maddie, who seemed the more responsible of the two. Maddie's eyes fixed on it with interest, but she didn't move to take it. G shifted, and when Cory glanced up, he was still looking at Danny, who had tensed. Cory ignored them both to continue addressing Maddie. "These-" He gestured around them. "-are not normal circumstances, and while your theories on ectoplasm and the spirit realm are unparalleled, your research on ghosts has some... critical flaws."
He was being nice. Very nice, thank you. Reading the Fentons' papers on ghost behavior had made him want to rip his hair out.
Maddie didn't appreciate it. "That's what you said last time," she said tartly, but she accepted the folder and flipped it open with interest. Jack leaned over her shoulder, and she tilted the contents to share with him. "What's so terribly flawed about our research this time, hm?"
"All of your fundamental studies on ghost behavior are based on ectoplasmic echoes and ghost animals rather than fully formed ghosts," Cory said bluntly. "It's given you a very... warped idea of their consciousnesses." Maddie opened her mouth. Cory cut her off. "I'm aware of your theories, Dr. Fenton, and I'm telling you that we have decades of data disproving them. It's all in that folder. We can have a healthy debate once you're more... informed."
God, please, let them see reason. As the ectopsychologist brought in, it would be up to Cory to talk them around if they still refused to see ghosts as having thoughts and emotions of their own. Cory did not want to have to figure out how to explain that beings entirely composed from emotion did, in fact, have feelings. He wasn't at all sure he had the patience for it.
Maybe for Phantom's sake. Phantom was still a kid, eighteen at the oldest, and if the Fentons kept thinking he was evil, they'd keep shooting at him. Which Cory did not want. He could make the patience, for that.
"Don't talk to my wife like that!" Jack snapped, bristling. Maddie's eyes had darkened, turning stormy. "If this is more of the same-!"
"Dad, please?" Danny interrupted unexpectedly, shifting his gaze to his parents instead of the agents. The way his expression softened changed his whole face, and he looked tired and worried instead of guarded. "For me and Jazz?"
Unexpectedly, Jack deflated, and he and Maddie exchanged a look. Cory cocked his head. This must have been an ongoing conflict - a generation gap, maybe? Previous reports had indicated that the kids had a generally positive opinion of ghosts.
"Alright, Danny-boy," Jack agreed, softer. "For you and Jazz."
Danny smiled at him, then shifted his gaze back to G with a frown. Was their staring contest still ongoing?
"What's your problem?" Danny asked bluntly. G blinked, then shook himself.
"I'm sorry. You're very... liminal. It was puzzling me." G still looked more thoughtful than abashed, studying Danny again while Danny scowled in faint confusion. "I've never met a human that seemed so much like a ghost." Danny tensed.
"Oh, Danny has an unusual amount of ectocontamination," Maddie said offhandedly, flipping through just enough of the folder to catch the studies' titles. Her frown deepened gradually as she did. "Jack and I didn't fully understand how much it would affect our kids until they were nearly teenagers, and by then the damage had been done. Add in an accident Danny had a few years later and, well... half our sensors register him as a ghost these days."
That was... exceptionally liminal. Frankly, Cory had never even heard of that.
Cory smacked himself in the face. "My apologies," he said stiffly. "That... should not have happened. I'll send in a recommendation to unseal those studies, at the very least." They might not want to encourage people seeking out ghosts, but the hazard warnings should be there for those who knew how to look.
Maddie nodded. "We published some eventually, but that would be for the best."
"What the heck is liminal?" Danny asked, frowning at his mother.
"It's just another term for ectocontamination, sweetie," Maddie said, glancing up from the folder. "Your father and I are strictly ectologists, but the field at large is heavily populated by people that prefer traditional terms. In that context, 'liminal' refers to people that spend so much time around ghosts and places of death that it starts to affect them visibly."
"Many experienced GIW agents eventually become liminal," Cory added. He nodded at the Drs. Fenton. "Agent G actually specializes in ectoradiation and liminality. Now that competent agents know what's happening here-" Danny snickered at the slight against the old branch. "-we're hoping to figure out whether to expect any long-term effects in the human residents."
Maddie hummed. "We've been keeping track of that as well," she murmured. She'd found a study that had caught her interest, Cory realized, and was already reading it. "There have actually been fewer cases of liminality than we've expected - so far it's only appeared in residents that were directly affected by a ghost attack. And, well..." She grimaced in visible embarrassment. "Ourselves and our children, of course." She gestured to herself and Jack.
"No fatalities in four years!" Jack added cheerfully. "We were worried too, at first, but only mild to moderate symptoms of contamination ever appeared! It's been incredibly fascinating! Maybe we can share data!" He looked less reluctant than Cory would've thought, considering their initial hostility.
G hesitated, then dipped his head toward Jack. "We should take our own data first, but I'd like to compare later," he said quietly.
They excused themselves soon after, when both elder Fentons had lost themselves in the folder of studies. Danny all but chased them out, making sure they didn't go anywhere but out the door. It was borderline ghost-like behavior, something G pointed out quietly after the door had shut behind them.
Cory nodded. "If he's that contaminated, they're lucky he never developed ectoplasmic oncosis," he said, referring to the last stage of ectocontamination poisoning. "Maybe children are better able to tolerate it on top of being more susceptible."
G shrugged, offering no further thoughts, so Cory tucked the thought away for later. If nothing else, he suspected this town would provide some data on that front as well. If only they'd been here from the beginning! Cory had never been so thankful for his flawless spiritual relations record. He might not be great with humans, but ghosts, Cory could be patient with.
"Soil samples?" Cory asked G.
"Soil samples," G agreed.
It was boring, working their way through town, packing dirt into vials, but necessary if they wanted an overall distribution of ectoradiation. Cory assumed that the Fenton household would have the most by far, but they should be able to get an idea of which areas saw the most ghost activity by the radiation levels. As they went, he kept an eye on their surroundings and thought absently that the infrastructure costs for this town had to be insane.
"Agent N." Cory glanced up at G's address, and G nodded at a small pack of teenagers hanging out by a fast food restaurant. Nasty Burger? "We should talk to them."
G was probably the only person that Cory wished would say more words. "Liminal?"
G nodded. "They've probably seen enough to have some info."
Cory shrugged and nodded, packing and labeling the last sample before he headed over. The teenagers noticed him before he reached them, and looks of displeasure and disgust appeared quickly. Cory really wanted to have a word with the previous GIW staff. Preferably in a windowless room where no one would see him throttle them. Uncooperative civilians made everything so much harder.
"Hello," he said, clipped but polite. "I'm Agent N, from the research division of the Ghost Investigation Ward. May I ask you some questions about the... ectocontamination present in you and your classmates?" If that was the term the Fentons used, it was most likely what these kids were familiar with.
The kids exchanged annoyed looks and eye rolls before a Hispanic girl took the lead, fixing Cory with a strict look and a surprisingly sharp grin. "Sure, if you can answer one question for us. Phantom, yes or no?"
"...Yes?" It clicked, and Cory nearly rolled his eyes at himself. Of course the locals were pissed at the people shooting at the resident guardian spirit. "The GIW agents you're familiar with were breaking official policy. They were fired en masse last week. Please assume that I disagree with everything they've ever said or done."
He'd caught them by surprise, he could tell, and they exchanged a few more uncertain looks in a hive mind typical of high school cliques.
"So you're with Phantom now?" the Hispanic girl asked, eyebrow raised. Cory nodded. "Like, officially, completely?"
"The competent agents of the GIW understand ghosts a bit better than the guys you're used to," Cory said dryly. "Phantom is a textbook guardian spirit, and probably a peacekeeper at that. Antagonizing him was stupid at best, and at worst, could've turned the whole situation ass-up in all kinds of ways." As it was, they'd probably turned the poor kid into an anxious wreck. Though not without help from the Drs. Fenton and the Huntress.
The girl whistled, though she didn't look completely convinced. "Yeah, okay, you get it," she decided. "Ask away."
On cue, the other kids settled down as well, watching them expectantly. Cory elbowed G in the side. Cory had handled the initial diplomacy, G could ask his damn questions.
G took the implicit order with good grace. "Do you know the signs of ectocontamination?" he asked. There was a general murmur of assent. "How many people do you know that have been exhibiting at least one of those symptoms?"
They exchanged thoughtful looks.
"Most of our year," a blonde girl said decisively. "I mean- that's not usual or anything, most people around here aren't ectocontaminated at all. But our year had this whole thing with a bunch of ghost bugs that bit everyone and gave us ghost powers for a few days, so we got it then." She shrugged it off like it wasn't the most batshit insane thing Cory had ever heard. "Uhh... Sam Manson and Tucker Foley have it pretty bad, they got possessed a couple years ago."
"Overshadowed, you mean?" Cory broke in, unable to help himself. The girl rolled her eyes.
"No, idiot, you don't get contaminated from being overshadowed, or loads more would have it. Manson and Foley were possessed. It was freaky."
"What the fuck has been happening in this town," Cory muttered, earning a few snickers from the assembled teenagers.
"Jazz and Danny Fenton have it the worst, though," a blond jock put in, shoving his hands in his pockets to eye them with some distrust still. "Have since we were kids. It was obvious even before we knew what that was. And then Danny had, you know, the accident." All of the other kids nodded, so apparently this accident was big enough that their whole school had heard about it and they didn't feel the need to explain. Or maybe that was just how small Amity Park was. "It was twice as obvious after that."
"The accident?" G asked, which was invasive but fair. Cory also wanted to know what the hell kind of accident resulted in more liminality than Cory had known was possible.
A few of the kids grimaced, more subdued just at the mention.
"Danny got hurt a couple weeks before our freshman year," an Asian kid in a letterman explained quietly. "Super bad lab accident. He got electrocuted when the portal turned on. He was in the hospital for a couple of days and he hasn't really been the same since."
Well. The Fentons had not mentioned that detail, though Cory supposed he should have guessed. (Something about the story rang a bell in the back of his head, but he did his best to ignore it for now.)
G just nodded, brow furrowed. "Has anyone gotten seriously ill since the portal opened?" he asked, returning to the previous topic. "Hypothermia, headache, mood swings. Swelling that's cold to the touch. Internal bleeding, seizures. Bruising or blisters that are unusually green. Anything like that?" The symptoms of ectoplasmic oncosis.
The kids looked at each other again, frowning.
"Not since the beginning," the blonde girl said after a minute. "I think some of the kids at our high school got some of that early on, especially anyone who went to see that weird counselor, Dr. Spectra."
The Hispanic girl nodded. "I remember getting sick," she agreed. "I was super cold and had a migraine for days, and these weird green bruises. But it didn't last that long."
A couple of the other kids chimed in agreement, and G spent a few minutes asking for their names and writing them down.
"The Fentons think that the ambient ectoradiation is helping acclimate us to ectoplasm without actually contaminating people," the blonde girl, Star, added when they were done. "That's why people are really only being affected by specific incidents." It was surreal to hear a Mean Girls-esque high schooler using advanced ectoscience terminology. She shrugged at Cory's look. "The Fentons' lectures are decent when they don't try to talk about actual ghosts. I listen in on most of them and relay anything useful to the rest of our year."
"You're a lifesaver, Star," Kwan said earnestly.
G nodded. "Thank you," he said politely, shutting his notebook. "I may contact some of you for follow-up later."
"Sure." Star studied G for a moment, and then, unexpectedly, pointed out, "You're ectocontaminated too. You sensed it on us, and you've got the eyes." She gestured to her own, which Cory had already noticed reflected light at certain angles.
G tilted his head, startled, and considered her for a moment before nodding. "I'm from Point Pleasant, West Virginia," he explained. "It's got plenty of activity of its own. Nothing like what Amity has, of course."
The kids laughed.
"Obviously," Paulina said. "Nowhere is like Amity."
Fortunately, Cory was almost certain that was true.
I canât wait for them to meet Red Huntress. Iâm just waiting for her and the Fentons to realize that ghosts have feelings and emotions and have an existential crisis, along with them attempting to make amends (lol, imagine them trying to learn ghost customs and culture to appease Phantom and Danny has no idea whatâs going on). Also, do the new GIW ever figure out that the Fenton kids arenât just positive about ghosts but actually have a good relationship with them and can even just walk right up to a ghost to talk without any hostility on the ghosts part? Because that will be crucial to peaceful relations if they can have a liaison or ambassador for the human side. Especially ones already informed about ecto science.
Also, do the GIW even know that thereâs a cure for Oncosis? Because they knew about Vlad yet he still hadnât been cured for 20 years so Iâm assuming they have no known cure for it and most people die or have to live with it the rest of their lives. (Usually itâs death though considering how bedridden Vlad was until he became a Halfa) And when Vlad was cured it was in Amity and more a local affair so it might not have made it into reports. Because once they realize the Fentons have a cure itâs going to be revolutionary in ecto medicine. Itâs like finding the cure for cancer.
ăťâĽăť summary: you and peter used to frequent the arcade often but with his superhero duties, you haven't in a long time so he suggests its for date night but he's not too thrilled when you keep beating all his high scores.
ăťâĽăťword count: 2.2k
ăťâĽăťwarnings: 18+ mdni. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. spanking. rough sex. dominant!peter. use of superpowers. hes a sore loser.
ăťâĽăť authors note: ...it's been almost 2 years since i wrote a peter fic. its not the best bc im rusty but we ball!! and this isn't exactly how this fic was supposed to go. but it's something lmao this is for my evan fam <3 if you want to be added to my peter taglist for any future fics, lemme know!!
For someone who was supposed to be fast, Peter Maximoff was always late. If it was anyone else, youâd be annoyed but youâd grown used to it over the years. He had this charming way of making you forget you were mad at him. Whether it be a quick kiss on the cheek or one of those cheeky smiles of his, you were putty in his hands. That was how it had always been. Peter had a hold on you that nobody else ever had. It was funny, really. He had come into your life at a time when you werenât even looking for anyone. You had been a lone wolf, adamant that you didnât need anyone then one day, this lovable speedster ran into your life and it had never been the same since.
It had been a chance meeting. One of those days where you wanted to be left alone. One of your favourite places to go to take your mind off things was the local arcade. There you could lose yourself for a few hours in a video game, focusing on a fictional world rather than the hell that was your real life. There was a zombie game that you really enjoyed playing so you had situated yourself at one of the machines, to the back of the arcade where it was a little quieter than the rest. You had almost beat your high score when what you thought had been a gust of wind had knocked you sideways, causing your hands to fall from the joystick and the âyou diedâ screen to flash. Anger had run through your veins, seeping hot but when you turned to see what had caused it, you had been greeted by a sheepish smile and a head of silver hair. You had opened your mouth to chew the man in question out but shut it just as quickly. He had apologised, twinkie in his free hand as he played his own game at a speed that wasnât humanly possible, his eyes flicking from you to the screen in front of him. When you blurted out the words âhow the hell are you doing thatâ he had no qualms in telling you every single detail of his power. From then on, you had been fascinated with him.
It had started out gradually. Each week he somehow seemed to bump into you at the arcade (youâd later find out he did it on purpose) and that had blossomed into a friendship. When he had shown up one day with a bouquet of twinkies (because, in his words, flowers were too boring) asking you out on a date, you couldnât refuse. Who asked someone out with a bouquet of twinkies? For that alone you had to say yes. But, it was the best decision you had ever made. Now, two years on, Peter Maximoff was the best part of your day. He was the love of your life. You didnât believe in soulmates but if you did, youâd definitely say he was yours.
âWhere is he?â You grumbled to yourself, looking at the watch on your wrist.
âHere!â He said in a sing-song voice, his arms wrapping around you from behind seemingly out of nowhere.
You rolled your eyes playfully. âYouâre late.â
âOoooor am I actually on time?â
âNo, definitely late.â
âLet me make it up to you then,â he whispered into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. There was no time to react before he attacked your neck in kisses, leaving you giggling.
âOkay, okay,â you laughed, wriggling yourself out of his grasp so you could turn to face him. There he was, shit-eating grin on his face, his silver hair a perfect mess with his favourite goggles sitting atop his head. âMake it up to me by paying for every game we play.â
âYou mean every game I beat your high score at?â He retorted.
âYeah, weâll see.â
He grabbed your hand and within a second, you were in front of a pac-man game inside the arcade. You let out a huff of breath, regaining your composure. Youâd think after two years of getting zoomed around everywhere by him youâd be used to it but it still took you by surprise. Peter only chuckled to himself, tossing you a few coins, a smirk on his face. âCome on then, princess. Beat my high score and Iâll buy you a slushie.â
âBuy or steal?â You teased.
He only glared at you, no venom behind it before he got to work on the screen in front of him. You slotted the coin into the machine, focusing on your own screen. Trying to battle Peter for a high score really wasnât a fair fight. This man had super speed, he could move his hand faster than anyone else in the world but you tried your damn hardest. You were stubborn, sometimes too stubborn. And extremely competitive. So, even if it killed you, you were going to try and up him.
Somehow, you managed to. Maybe it was because Peter had been distracted watching a couple fight across the room â his nosiness getting the better of him as he snickered watching the girl storm away from their partner. Heâd taken his eyes off the screen for a split second to which you had used to your advantage, hip bumping him so he stumbled a little, hand slipping from the controller, causing him to die. He groaned when he heard the game over music playing, eyes narrowing as he turned to you.
âThatâs cheating!â
âI would never do such a thing!â
You feigned innocence, trying to fight the grin from showing on your face. He only grumbled in response, muttering about how he was definitely going to beat you at the next game.Â
But, lo and behold, he didnât.
Maybe luck was on your side or he was just easily distracted because yet again, you beat his high score. You could tell with the way his brows were furrowed that he was annoyed, confused that you somehow seemed to be getting the better of him.
âWhatâs up, baby? Sore loser?â You teased, playfully booping his nose as he handed you over the slushie heâd promised.
âSore loser? Pfft,â he scoffed.Â
âAwww, youâre cute when youâre being a loser.â
âSay it again.â
âLoooooser.â
In the blink of an eye, the scenery changed and you were in the small bathroom of the arcade. Your slushie had fallen from your hand in Peterâs rush to get you alone. You loved it when he got like this. Annoying him was one of your favourite things especially when it got him riled up and nothing bothered him more than losing at his beloved video games.Â
âYou know whoâs gonna be sore? You by the time Iâm done with you,â he said, lips a hair's breadth from yours. There was no room for a reply because his lips had crashed against yours in a flash. His hands gripped at your hips, tugging you flush against his body. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, a moan falling from your lips. He smirked against you, slipping his tongue into your mouth. It was like a battle for dominance but in the end, he won out. He always did. You were putty in his hands. He tugged on your lower lip as he pulled away from the kiss, spinning you around to bend you over the small sink in the bathroom, pressing himself flush against your ass. You could feel him grinding himself against you, your hands gripping onto the sink for support.
âPeter,â you breathed out.
âI think someone needs to be taught a lesson, huh?â He clicked his tongue, flipping your skirt up so he could get a better view. He licked his lips, his hands squeezing your ass. âLove you, baby but you canât be beating me at the one thing Iâm good at.â
A hand came down against your ass, the sting making you gasp but you loved every second of it. One after the other they came, Peter, making sure to massage you after each slap. Your panties were drenched, he could already tell but he had to make sure. His fingers slipping underneath them to run his fingers through your drenched folds. A groan fell from his lips as he slowly, tortuously rubbed your pussy. His thumb found your clit, rubbing circles against it. Then, you let out the loudest moan imaginable when you felt it vibrate. The perks of his super powers.Â
âThatâs it, let everyone know whoâs making you feel this good,â he said, adding a little more pressing as he sank two fingers inside you. You pushed your hips back against his hand, aching for more. He knew how to play you just right. He started pumping his fingers, slow at first then sped up until you were a whimpering, moaning mess. Peter leaned over you, his mouth right beside your ear as he spoke in a gruff whisper. âCome on, give me one.â
You couldnât take it. The way his fingers were curling inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, the vibration of his thumb against your clit was so overwhelming. It felt like a dam breaking when you came. You cried out his name, gripping the edge of the sink as hard as you could so you didnât fall over from the sheer force of your release. He didnât let up, his fingers still moving inside you, his thumb still against you. It was too much. When he was sure you were done, he slowed down, pulling himself from you, letting you have a moment to catch your breath.
âThatâs a good girl,â he praised, licking his fingers clean. âNow, are you going to take that sore loser comment back?â
âSore loser say what?â You managed to pant out, turning your head to look at him.Â
âWrong answer.â
You barely heard the sound of his zipper as he freed his cock from the confines of his pants at super speed. The head of his cock ran through your folds, the head catching on to your clit. You whimperted from the over sensitivity. He notched his cock at your entrance, pushing just the tip inside. You tried to push back but he held your hips firmly in place so you couldnât move. One of his hands moved up to grab at your hair, making a make-shift ponytail so he could pull your head up.
âLook in the mirror and watch. Donât take your eyes off me,â he commanded.
You looked up into the mirror, catching his eyes in the reflection. He smirked and, in one hard thrust, pushed himself inside you. He groaned, his eyes closing at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him. He savoured the moment, getting lost in how good it always felt. He pulled back, almost all the way out before pushing back in, setting a hard pace right from the start. All you could do was hold on, making sure you never broke eye contact with him in the mirror.
Each thrust had your body jolting forward, moans spilling from your lips. You were already so close to the edge. Peter couldnât help himself, using his powers to speed up his thrusts. It was delicious, the way he always knew how much you could take, how to make you feel. Each drag of his cock, the way he knew exactly which spots to hit had you seeing stars.Â
âLook at you taking every inch,â he said through gritted teeth, thrusting deep, his hips flush against your ass. âSo good for me.â
âPeter, oh my god!â You cried out, your walls squeezing around him.
âShit, do that again,â he moaned. His thrusts now turning short and sharp, his own release barreling towards him. âFuck, Iâm gonna cum.â
But, just as he was about to send you both over the edge, there was a knock at the door. Peter stilled for a moment, out of breath. You whimpered, needing him to keep going, you were too far gone to care if someone was outside.
âOccupado, dude,â Peter managed to call out. When he was sure the person was gone, he carried on. His focus entirely back on you, he thrust into you in quick, shallow bursts. âCum for me.â
Those words were what sent you over the edge, you cried out his name as you came for a second time, triggering Peterâs release. He pressed his hips flush against you, burying himself to the hilt as he came, spilling himself inside you with a groan of your name. He held you tight against him, making sure you took every drop. His head dropped, panting harshly as he caught his breath back. A few moments of silence fell between you, nothing but your heavy breathing and the sound of your whimpers as he slowly pulled out of you. He tucked himself back into his pants, quickly grabbing some toilet roll to clean you up. Placing your clothes back in place, he helped you stand, turning you around to face him, his hands resting gently on your waist.
âWhat was that about a sore loser? Because Iâm pretty sure I just won,â he grinned. His hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed from exertion.
You rolled your eyes playfully. âYeah, yeah. You win this but⌠out there? My names on all the machines.â
âOh, you want a round two, huh?â
âYou know I donât like losing.â
He chuckled, kissing you softly on the lips. âSorry, baby. Quickie wins this⌠quickie.â
â... youâre such a loser.â
taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @bohnerrific69
ppl are so annoying âyou canât paint ur bedroom pink youâre an adultâ i did not spend my entire life waiting to grow up and control my life to paint my bedroom beige
when I first bought my house, I announced my decision to paint my bedroom purple. I had wanted a purple bedroom for thirty damn years, you fucking bet I was gonna have one now. My friends decided, for some reason, that I meant what one of them referred to as â14 year old girl purpleâ (through whatâs wrong with the colors a 14 year old girl chooses, I donât know, even if theyâre not what I want as an adult). They didnât believe me until they saw the color on the actual wall, even thought they helped me pick out paints. My mother, meanwhile, decided to get worried that if I painted my bedroom a âdark purpleâ, it would be âdepressingâ. As if, with an entire house to live in, I would spend all my time in the bedroom, which I wanted to be dark because I would be sleeping in there. In the damn dark.
I had like one, maybe two friends who were all like FUCK YEAH YOU PAINT IT WHATEVER COLOR YOU WANT, PURPLE BEDROOMS ARE AWESOME.
But when they actualy saw the finished bedroom, every single one of them was like, âOh yeah, thatâs really pretty.â (Well, the ones who supported me from the beginning were more like WOOHOO.)
And the moral of the story is: Fuck âem, please yourself. Either theyâll come around, or you can safely ignore every question of taste they opine about for the rest of time.
This applies to other adulting activities, too. When I was a kid, I decided that I wanted to have a wedding cake made of doughnuts. When I got older, I figured that I would be âmatureâ about it and get a traditional cake, which the older adults approved of. Now that Iâm 25 and facing the possibility of actual marriage in the near future, Iâm just like âmarriage is a social construct but it comes with tax & insurance benefits, so just give me that goddamn doughnut cake.â If they donât like it then they donât have to come to my wedding.
Iâm thirty and my first big furniture purchase was a custom coffin shaped coffee table that opens up and is lined with purple crushed velvet. I would have loved it at 13 and I love it now. Growing up doesnât mean you have to abandon what makes you happy.
I have told this story before, and I will tell it again, because I am An Old now and repeating stories forever is our prerogative:
When I bought my house, the kitchen was multiple shades of dingy white. It was dismal, but it was now mine! So went to the hardware store for paint (well, several trips, painted swatches on panel, etc â Iâm very picky. But this was the final, ârealâ trip). It was a busy day in the paint section. There were at least five people behind me in line.
Now, remember, latex paint is slightly lighter and brighter when wet than it is when dry. And Iâd decided to paint my kitchen candy-apple red. The hardware store employee took my gallon off the Paint Jiggler and cracked it open to put a dab on the top, revealing the most incredibly deep pink, and behind me I hear the entire line of people say,
âOh my god.â
âŚin perfect chorus.
I did not realize up until that moment that shocking a crowd of strangers with my paint color choices was a life goal, but at that moment I felt an absolutely overwhelming sense of achievement.
When I first moved into my place, I painted the spare room, that eventually became my office, lime green, the kind of lime green that glows down the corridor when I open the door - The colour was only available as an âaccent colourâ in the section of paints intended for childrenâs playrooms, and in the shop I got a lot of âOh your son will love this!â And from people I knew I got a lot of âOh well, youâre 21 now, youâre basically a teenager, this is a terrible idea, youâll hate it and need to pull out all the furniture to repaint it.â And I have to report that I am now in my forties and my office still looks like this, and it makes me smile every time I see it.
not decorating trends; those have always existed. but the idea that color and decoration is inherently childish
this is the dining room at the Eustis Estate in Milton, Massachusetts, from 1878 (where I used to work, briefly). the walls are TEXTURED MICA SHIMMER on a green background. Adult Space For Adults!
A jewelry shop in Paris c. 1901. kids canât buy jewelry!
who can forget the classic 1950s colorful bathroom? Iâm not a huge fan, but still! adult space! bright colors; decorative designs!
meanwhile âyouâre immature if you like Art Nouveauâ is a hot take Iâve really, seriously seen on this webbed site (only once, thank the gods). I donât know who started this, but Iâm going to kill them
I think a lot of it stems from the ubiquitous Waterhouse prints that were sold on college campuses for 20 years. like why would I get a free pass if it were Monet instead Western culture is stupid. The entire point of being an adult is breakfast for dinner and cake for breakfast and dying with the most toys.
The examples of decorated homes above are both either modern or upper class, which makes it easy to dismiss because âsure the rich people have beautiful homesâ and âsure, modern middle-class people have lots of color in their homes.â
So hereâs two examples of traditional Norwegian farmhouse interiors. You know. The kinds of places peasants live in.
This type of painting is called ârosemalingâ and today you usually find it on, like, carved wooden bowls and such that are only used for decoration. But back two centuries ago, it was very common to find the interiors of homes covered in it, in projects that were painted little by little over the decades. Because itâs beautiful to look at, paint is the cheapest way of decorating your house, and what else are you going to do on the long winter nights when itâs too dark and cold to work outdoors?
But mostly, they did it because it made them happy, and it was beautiful.
My dream kitchen is butcher block counter tops, powder blue cabinets, yellow walls and terracotta hexagon tile floors. something bright, airy, cozy and looks like a place people live and cook meals in, not a piece in hardware store show floor.
The first thing I did when I bought my tiny crappy house to escape from my shitty ex-husband was ask my kids what colors they want their rooms painted, because their father refused to let us even hang things on the walls in fear of ruining the resale value of the house we finally bought together(which he conveniently kept in his name only, heâs a monster).
My twelve year old wanted a black room. I also wanted a black room as a kid and was told no because âitâs too hard to paint overâ and âitâll make the room look too smallâ. Fuck that. We bought Sherwin-Williams paint in stricken Blacl and did the entire room, ceiling included, put in a four-poster gold bed and hung gothic mirrors on the walls. My ten-year old wanted the most vivid cyan Iâve ever seen and now going into their room feels like walking into the sky itself, itâs amazing. And I finally got the deep green living room of my dreams. Homes are meant to be lived in, not preserved in plastic wrap. Donât haunt your home like a ghost, make it somewhere you want to be.
Someday Iâm getting the coziest Forest Creature bedroom. Iâm talking dappled greens and soft warm browns and little painted flowers. Iâm talking tree-stump chair with mossy cushions in the reading nook. Mushroom lamps and fairy lights and squishy rugs with bugs on them. Big south-facing window with a fancy table (and fancy tablecloth!) for all my baby plants that are waiting to go in the ground, with space for crafts too.
And the house. Oh, the house. Weâre gonna have art from local artists all over the walls. Weâre gonna have cute jars in the kitchen, silly stickers on the stand mixer and a nice kettle with a tea cozy. Butter crock. Cookie jar. Tools that are Fancy not just functional.
The living roomâs gonna have a real wood fireplace and itâs gonna be all warm colors. Coffee table with pretty carved wood, comfy patterned couch with soft pillows. Because y'all are damn right, we all deserve better than landlord white and depression beige
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Make bad art!! On your nice paper!! âWasteâ your nice markers on a drawing of SpongeBob!! Use that nice fabric even though you might fuck it up!! Create things despite the risk of wasted materials and time!! Practice using your fancy yarn!! Doodle bullshit instead of making nice art to sell all the time!! Itâs good for your brain!! Write a dumb song about a sandwich for a change, it doesnât have to be a deep love song to be worth your time!! CREATE BULLSHIT ITS GOOD FOR YOU!!
you know whatâs a trope that never gets tired is when theyre bouncing around in the plot and suddenly an important name crops up- itâs blorbo bleebus. and some dude is like who the hell is blorbo bleebus. and we immediately cut to our new friend blorbo bleebus pulling the most absolutely buckwild shit youâve ever seen
enhanced edition of this trope is when they cut to blorbo bleebus doing something entirely contradictory to how they were just introduced, like âi know a professional, someone discreet who can handle things quietlyâ cut to blorbo bleebus in the wildest fucking bar brawl youâve ever seen, screaming their own name and stopping to down shots while still holding some dude in a headlock
Bonus mention to this trope is when blorbo bleebus disappears for episodes/series/years etc and blorbo is in a losing battle and doesnât think they are gonna win. Just before they get hit with the killing blow, out of no where a figure appears. But who could it be? When blorbo opens their eyes they cant believe who it is, its blorbo bleebus, whoâs not only stopped the attack, but the only person who can defeat the enemy and came in their hour of need.
