Saw a piece by @xnighten which had this cool black out poetry style look! ^^
I thought it was so cool and wanted to do something like it with the ORV boys :D
The result turned out pretty nice in my opinion~
AKA, AU where Dave and Roxie are the medics at the airfield
TWs - injury, death, panic attack
It’s been hours, and Roxie is, once again, losing hope. They’re the last medics remaining by far, and the once bustling airfield is now hauntingly abandoned: the once-frantic scene of devastation now whistles with its noiseless ghost.
(And she can’t ignore the echoes of being six years younger, waiting at the dock for six kids she knows aren’t coming.)
A sigh escapes her, long and sharp and defeated. “David—”
“Don’t say it, Rox.” Dave firmly shakes his head. “There might still be people there.”
“Then how long do we wait?” Roxie says, her voice growing anger and thorns and other things she desperately tries to choke back down.
Dave’s voice wobbles warily with hope when he says, “Ten more minutes. Then, if no one comes, we go. Promise.”
Dave is many things: a hopeless optimist, a reckless daydreamer, someone who never gives up no matter what. But he’s also a man of his word.
Roxie nods. “Ten more minutes.”
Those ten minutes fade by far too fast. Still, nothing emerges from the thick, smoking mess that is the forest.
Ten minutes turns to twelve, and it’s then Roxie puts her foot down.
She gently puts a hand on Dave’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Dave visibly droops, but concedes. “Okay. Let’s—”
A flash of red skids out of the forest, and Dave and Roxie’s heads whip towards it.
“Oh, my God!” Dave exclaims.
“Thank goodness you said to wait,” Roxie says breathlessly. Whoever that is could’ve—
The car skids to a halt, and out bursts five people, yelling wildly, and they’re six years older and covered in ash and dirt and something red that Roxie prays isn’t blood (oh, but she knows it is) — but Roxie would know those faces anywhere.
“Wha— kids?”
“He needs help!” They shout, acting like they don’t even recognise her.
He looks dead. Not in the peacefully sleeping way; in the way that makes Roxie think of a corpse: slowly decomposing and becoming one with the earth again. His skin is sickly pale, and shadowed and flushed in all the wrong places. His eyelids flutter weakly, and if it weren’t for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, Roxie might actually think he was dead.
She can’t speak. All the words are snatched from her throat.
“What happened?” Asks a steady voice behind her. Dave. Her pillar. Her rock in this horrible storm. She says a silent thank you to him for being there.
All five start talking at once, and the words rush back into her. “One at a time, please.”
“He got impaled with a thagomizer, please, you have to help him!” Darius pleads. The rest of them shake with sobs, Kenji most of all. Sammy’s hand remains steadily on Yaz’s shoulder, and— Brooklynn?
Shock almost strangles Roxie for the second time today, but she has just enough wherewithal to yell, “Dave, get a stretcher! Now!”
She reaches into her first aid bag, and secures an oxygen mask over Ben’s face, trying not to look at the dark stain blooming ominously across Ben’s jacket. The plastic of the mask fogs up slightly with Ben’s breath, and Roxie lets out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding.
Some of the kids (though she supposes they’re hardly kids now) are beginning to recognise her, their eyes widening. Sammy gives her a grateful, tear-stained smile, and Roxie does her best to return it.
But looking at them now, a far cry even from the scrappy, starved, scared kids on the dock all those years ago, she can’t feel anything but sorrow for them.
“Kids— sorry, sorry, I— what happened?”
Yaz opens her mouth to reply, but Dave arrives with the stretcher, yelling, “Load him up.”
Roxie snaps into action, gently lifting Ben onto the stretcher, and she and Dave hurry to load and strap him on. Darius sprints after them, clutching his hand, and Ben murmurs something Roxie can’t hear. She hopes it isn’t a goodbye. By God, it can’t be a goodbye. They’ve been through enough.
“Wait!” Someone cries, gasping and hiccuping for air in between breaths. Kenji. His face is crumpled into the saddest expression Roxie has ever seen. “Someone should be there. When he...” the unspoken end to that sentence hangs in the air.
Roxie’s heart breaks as she tells them, “We only have space for one of you.”
“You go, Kenj,” says Darius. Dave extends a hand, helping Kenji on, and he wastes no time on sitting by Ben’s side.
As Dave begins to treat Ben, Roxie sticks her head out of the door. Four faces look expectantly, pleadingly at her, hoping for an answer, a promise of hope she doesn’t have. Dave is the optimistic one. She wishes more than anything she could tell them he’s going to be okay, but...
“We’ll do what we can. I promise.”
A few of them nod, but they’re evidently too shocked to speak. Sadness tugs at Roxie’s heart. They deserve to stick together. Found families should never be separated. She can only imagine how she would feel if Dave was hurt and she couldn’t go with him.
But difficult things have to be done sometimes. Like letting the door shut on four heartbroken faces. Like directing the pilot to take off, setting a course for the nearest hospital. Like watching Kenji take Ben’s cold, lifeless hand and kiss it, like he’s trying to breathe life back into Ben through his fingertips.
She jolts into action, stamping down her feelings in order to focus, in the way she’s been doing since she and Dave started this job together. She was never good in a crisis. Not until she has to be. Not until someone more scared and vulnerable needs her.
So she and Dave work to unzip the hoodie, cut away all the bandages piled on and part of Ben’s shirt, until she peels off the sticky fabric to reveal a thagomizer, snapped off, covered with blood, and deeply, hopelessly embedded in Ben’s flesh.
She can’t stop the gasp ripping from her throat.
“What? What is it?” Kenji asks.
Roxie startles, having forgotten he was there. “Don’t worry, love— sorry, I— force of habit, I won’t call you that.” She’s rambling. She needs to stop. “We can treat him until we get to a hospital.”
“Does he need a blood transfusion? I can give some of mine.”
“He doesn’t need one yet,” Dave says. “Just hang tight, we’ll be there in— hey, how long until we get there?”
The pilot calls, “Five minutes.”
“See? We’ll be there in no time at all.” Roxie gives her best approximation of a comforting smile. Kenji doesn’t return it, and clutches Ben’s hand tighter.
Roxie longs to bring Kenji into her arms and comfort him — goodness knows he needs it. He’s been through so much, more than anyone deserves to — but the only thing that will comfort him now is making sure Ben is okay.
So she does.
“What are you doing?” Kenji asks after a minute.
“Saving his life,” says Dave, laser-focused on the task at hand.
Anger, or perhaps frustration, flares on Kenji’s face, and Roxie hurriedly explains, “We’ve cleaned and re-bandaged the wound, and I’ve put him on a course of antibiotics.”
Kenji nods. Ben’s hand is still clasped in both of his, Ben’s fingers tangled limply in Kenji’s, cradled like thin glad that would snap in a second — and then Roxie gets it. He is to Kenji what Dave is to her.
And then Roxie gets it: Kenji cannot lose him. She has to do everything possible to stop that from happening.
“Not much longer,” Roxie says, trying to sound encouraging. Kenji nods, but doesn’t smile. Maybe he can’t. Maybe he doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel joy again until Ben is okay.
Roxie’s heart aches for them. When will these poor kids get a break? She and Dave haven’t seen them since Brooklynn’s funeral — and now she’s alive, but chances are that Ben...
“We are now approaching your destination,” a mechanical voice announces. Dave and Roxie both heave a massive sigh of relief.
Kenji lets out a weak, wobbly laugh, cradling Ben’s hand to his forehead.
“Hear that, Benny boy?” He says, his voice wet with laughter. “You’re gonna be okay soon.”
He continues speaking in a hushed voice with words clearly not meant for Dave and Roxie to hear, so she tunes it out, and focuses on monitoring Ben’s vitals.
The moment the plane lands on the hospital helipad, it’s a rush of doctors, yelling, surgeons, running — and a stretcher whisks Ben down a corridor before Roxie can even process it. She stands at the entrance for a while, staring wistfully after him. Dave comes and lays his hand on her shoulder, and she curls her fingers around it with a grateful smile.
“Rox.” Dave gestures with his head. “Kenji.”
“Oh— of course!” Roxie rushes back to the helicopter. Amidst all the confusion, they forgot that Kenji was still there, trembling and terrified for Ben’s life.
They hear him before they see him: sobbing and crying and openly wailing in a way that makes Roxie want to run as far from the sound as she can.
But she follows Dave onto the helicopter, and lays her eyes on Kenji: doubled over, his shoulders trembling, and those awful hyperventilating choking sounds ripping from deep within his chest.
“Hey, love, it— it’s okay.” Roxie crouches on one side of him, and Dave on the other. “Just try to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me? In... and out.” Roxie takes deep breaths to encourage him to mirror hers. “It’s okay, babu. It’s gonna be okay.”
“He— he— he— hic— he’s gonna die, Roxie. Hic— He’s not gonna m— make— make it,” Kenji babbles, barely coherent, and all Roxie can do is rub his back and hope it eases.
Which it will, eventually.
She knows this routine. Dave’s done the same for her after every one of her countless nightmares and flashbacks. She’s weathered many stormy panic attacks like these. So she knows it’ll take a while for Kenji to learn how to breathe again.
And slowly, surely, his breaths even out, and his river of tears turns to a stream trickling wetly down his cheeks.
He sniffles, wiping his nose on the wet sleeve of his jacket. “Heh. Sorry.”
“I just—” his voice cracks in the way Roxie knows means he’s about to start crying again. “I don’t want— I can’t lose him.”
Kenji starts crying again, and Roxie says. “Let’s find you some dry clothes, alright, love? You could catch hypothermia.”
“I don’t care,” he mumbles.
“Well you’re getting warm anyway,” Roxie says firmly. She won’t let him fall victim to a vicious spiral of self destruction. She knows that route by heart and if she can save anyone, by goodness she will.
“Alright, come on,” Dave says, offering Kenji a hand to help him up. “We’ll get you some dry clothes, we’ll buy you some food, and then we can sit in the waiting room. How does that sound?”
Roxie knows that voice. It’s the one he uses when he’s working with kids — she knows it from all the way back at camp, and she doubts Kenji appreciates being spoken to like he’s a child. But all he does is nod forlornly, and lets Dave and Roxie loop their arms under his shoulders and half guide, half drag him into the hospital.
Finally freshly clothed and fed, Kenji sprawls across several seats, and stares at the ground through half lidded eyes. He hasn’t moved for at least an hour, and Roxie is beginning to feel the drag of fatigue weighing on her bones. She won’t last much longer without rest, and honestly, Kenji needs rest too. After all... this (and Roxie can only guess what they’ve been through before Ben getting hurt) he needs to sleep.
She tells him as such, and he just stands, glares at her and says, “If you think I’ll actually leave Ben, you’re dumber than I thought.”
“One night in a hotel won’t make a difference,” Dave says. “Even if Ben woke up right now, he’d spend all night sleeping off the anaesthesia.”
“And what if he—” The rest of that sentence hangs in the air, unsaid.
Kenji’s head hangs, dropping onto his chest. A few seconds later, spots of water begin blooming on the fabric of Kenji’s jumper, and his shoulders start to shake.
“Oh, darling...” The childish nickname slips off Roxie’s tongue before she can help it. Her hands jolt towards him, the shape of the beginning of a hug flowing through her muscles, before far more rational emotions overtake her — this is a man she barely knows. She and Dave stayed in touch with the kids since Nublar, but she couldn’t claim to be close close. Not like the camp fam are with their real parents, and certainly not like they are with each other—
Kenji barrels into her arms, squeezing her tight. Roxie initially startles, and the sudden touch makes her skin crawl slightly. But Kenji trembles against her body, his chin digs into her shoulder, and the back of her t-shirt begins to grow damp, and how can she let go of him now? How can she abandon these kids for a second time?
So she and Dave hold him until his legs become hollow chambers that can’t hold him, echoing the inevitable emptiness in his heart, and spread him across the waiting room seats, his head in Roxie’s lap, as they sit and wait for news. Part of her doesn’t want to find out; to stay stuck in limbo forever, and never feed the hungry mouth in her chest that begs for disaster to soothe the burning hot anticipation.
But she stays anyway. (What choice does she have?) The lines between twenty-something year old Kenji who’s on the verge of losing his best friend, and fifteen year old Kenji on the verge of losing his father to prison, begin to hopelessly blur. Kenji sobs about how his best friend is going to die, and Roxie cannot — physically cannot make herself — disagree. That would be lying, giving him false hope, and Kenji deserves better than that.
But Roxie also knows never to give up. Never giving up is what got her, Dave and Brand back to Nublar to rescue those kids. Sometimes, miracles really do happen. They’ve been happening in fireworks and clusters ever since Hammond and Wu brought the dinosaurs back, and Roxie has faith they’ll happen one more time.
Can you imagine if Qui-Gon lived and Anakin and Obi-Wan were actually brother-padawans without any of the Master-apprentice-father figure baggage? They would be absolute menaces.*
- Young Anakin develops a habit of sitting on Obi-Wan when he wants to bug him. This is funny when he's 11 but much more threatening and hilarious at 21
- Obi-Wan refuses to cooperate with medical during the Clone wars and full grown General Knight Skywalker just sits on him saying something like "stop being so stubborn, don't make me call Qui-Gon on your short ass" (Anakin will use their height difference against Obi-Wan at any opportunity)
- "Don't make me call Qui-Gon" is how they keep each other in line. It works on both of them no matter how old. Qui-Gon isn't sure how to take this but he thinks it's positive
- on the flip side, they'll both do something stupid and follow up with "not a word to Qui-Gon"
- The absolute blatant disrespect goes both ways. Other Jedi are shocked when the serene unflappable Master Kenobi casually calls the Chosen One Himself 'ten kinds of a spice addled idiot' and flicks him when anakin is being annoying
- Obi-Wan is in a council meeting and he misses a call from Anakin, somehow the message plays out loud and it's just "pick up your comm nerf herder"
- on a softer side, Anakin sometimes stays over at Obi-Wan's knight quarters when things are tense with Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan knows what it's like being 'too angry/too emotional/too old' to be a 'proper' padawan, and he knows what it's like being apprenticed to the well-meaning disaster that is Qui-Gon, so he can offer support that both helps Anakin feel better and keeps him out of Skeevy Sheevy's claws
- Qui-Gon also needs a lot more recuperating after being shish kabobed, so Obi-Wan takes over some of Anakin's basic training. He still insists he doesn't like Anakin at this point even while gently guiding him through katas and motherhenning him about eating vegetables
Idk these are just some things off the top of my head but I would kill for this dynamic
(Part 1? lol)This got more ridiculous than I intended but here we are, a little rujinu aquarium date shenanigan inspired by @galaxyspeaking ‘s great aquarium date concept! I have a part 2 sketched out that’s more romantic and sappy but we’ll see if and when I get to it 🐠
Do not repost this to other platforms. If you see this elsewhere, it is likely without my consent.
If you see this elsewhere please notify me
It started with Earth being invaded by beings from a foreign dimension. They’d used some weird combination of magic and science to carve their way into this dimension, and were set on conquering Earth to use the inhabitants as a slave force/food supply/something else sinister and morally abhorrent. Jason wasn’t 100% paying attention to what these guys goals were, he just knew he was allowed to shoot the scumbags.
Anyway: interdimensional threat, requires interdimensional aid. The JL Dark had decided on summoning the King of the Infinite Realms. Which sounds intense and risky, but Constantine had assured them all it was fine. Apparently the last king was dethroned, and the new ruler was quite keen on maintaining balance, and not being a ‘Tyrannical Dimension-Razing Wanker like Pariah Dark had been’ (John Constantine at his finest).
Apparently there had been friendly encounters with the king before. Raven had met with the king, seeking his aid in emancipating herself from her father. She had described King Phantom as kind hearted and rather humorous, but absolutely ruthless when the chips were down - Trigon no longer held sway over Raven, and she was forever in King Phantom’s debt.
One of the Green Lantern Team’s allies, some Emo, Bichomatic Lantern called Razer (Jason did not know those guys came in more than one colour until now), had apparently sold Phantom his soul in return for finding his missing/dead girlfriend (that whole situation has been labeled as ‘Existentially Complicated’ by Hal Jordan). When he had been called to confirm, Razer had explained that King Phantom was immensely uncomfortable about the whole Soul-Owning part, and was actually very enthusiastic about helping to reunite the lovers. As for the Soul Contract part, it had been reduced to 100 years of service and a garuntee of employment after Razer’s inevitable demise. Jason thought that was a pretty good deal, all things considered.
Constantine’s soul also belonged to King Phantom apparently. This was not very surprising, because it felt like almost everybody had a claim to the Hellblazer’s soul at this point (even Tim, who initially drew up that contract as a joke). The High King apparently had a disagreement with Satan himself at one point, and the devil had politely ‘gifted’ Phantom the Hellblazer’s soul in retaliation. Every contract Constantine had ever made with a Hellborn creature had been passed onto King Phantom, in an act of Pettiness disguised as respect. ‘According to king Phantom, I’m that annoying’ Constantine had announced proudly. Everyone agreed that a) that’s not something he should be proud of, and b) yes he is that annoying. Much like Razer, Constantine had a nice, cushy desk job waiting for him when he eventually kicks the bucket.
All in all, they had good reason to believe High King Phantom would assist them in their time of need. Since it had been an all hands on Deck Scenario, Jason was here with the rest of the Batfamily, fighting alongside the rest of the Costumed Community - every hero, vigilante and antihero had been called in. Currently, Jason was toward the back of the crowd with his siblings, while the JLD and the Founding Members negotiated with King Phantom. The rest of the crowd were monitoring the situation planetside or gossiping. Naturally, their Royal Guest currently in the huge summoning circle was the primary topic being discussed.
And dear god, was the High King an incredible, beautiful sight to behold. Phantom was over four stories tall, with snowy white hair that faded into soft vapour. His skin was a pale blueish gray, and he had long pointed ears, and six glowing green eyes. When the king spoke, Jason could see that his serrated teeth and long, razor sharp canines were Lazarus green, and that his tongue was forked. When he smiled, it was a little too wide to be considered normal. He had four arms, the forearms seemingly made of living ice, with phantom’s green-tinged bones visible through them. His torso was partially melted away, revealing part of his glowing green ribcage and spinal cord. His hips were covered, his flesh returning, and forming a long, black, coiling tail seemingly formed of wispy tendrils. His hands had long, talon-like claws that looked like they could spear through multiple entire humans, and looked sharp enough to shred through metal with ease. He seemed to be clothed in a skin tight, black and white jumpsuit, and had a flowing cape that looked like it contained the cosmos in its folds. His kingly artifacts, the crown and ring, glowed a pulsating, neon green, emanating strength and power.
He looked terrifying, a being of pure Death. A great deal of the room looked up at King Phantom in fear.
He was the most beautifully harrowing thing Jason had ever seen. It didn’t help that Phantom has such a kind looking smile, despite his less human features. He had such a gentle and friendly voice too, and yet he still commanded power with it. Jason’s poor dark romance obsessed heart was swooning HARD… And unfortunately it was kind of obvious, even with the helmet on.
“Hood. Not the time for Gay Panic. Or Monsterfucker panic.” Tim hissed, elbowing him. “I get it, I can kind of see where you’re coming from, but for the love of god pull yourself together.”
“Shut up, just let me enjoy the view in peace” Jason hissed back, eyes not leaving the six-eyed, undead, royal beauty before him. He swallowed, throat feeling dry, despite the fact Jason was probably drooling. Definitely drooling.
“I agree with Red Robin. For once. This is unbecoming of you hood.” Damian chimed in, annoyed. “That is an eldritch emissary of death itself. It reeks of the Lazarus pits. Do not fall for it.”
“Really not sure why you’re so enamored anyway. That guy looks scary as shit” Nightwing grumbled, eyes trained suspiciously on the giant ghost, posture tense. He clearly did not share Jason’s superior taste.
“Shut the fuck up” Jason growled, annoyed. He just wanted to ogle the undead eye-candy without his siblings audibly judging him for it, judge him in your heads like normal people for crying out loud.
“He’s very polite and friendly” Cass remarked neutrally. She looked a little uncomfortable, but Phantom clearly didn’t set off as many warning alarms for her as he did for Dick and Damien.
“Please do not indulge Jason’s monsterfucker agenda” Tim groaned. Steph laughed.
“The lights and colours on this guy…. I mean he is kind of mesmerizing, to be fair to hood” Duke hummed, staring at King Phantom with awe.
“Thank you Signal, for being the only guy here to back me up” Jason grumbled, folding his arms defensively.
“Well, to be fair to the others, I’m like 90% sure you’re drooling under the helmet Big Red” Steph laughed, and Jason flipped the bird at her in response.
“I totally am, and I feel zero shame for it” Jason grinned. “That guy is a solid 12/10, an absolute bombshell of an Entity” he purred. Tim gagged dramatically.
“Oh fucking hell little wing, for the sake of my sanity would you stop lusting over the Eldritch horror?!” Nightwing wheezed, glancing between Jason and Phantom’s titanic floating form in mostly hidden terror. Alright, that’s it. Time to horrify his siblings in public. Maybe this will teach them to keep their mouths shut. Jason turned to his brother, taking the helmet off so Dick could see his domino mask covered face as he said this.
“I will not. That is single-handedly the most beautiful and hot creature I have ever seen in my life, and I have no shame in admitting that!” Jason announced proudly. “I do not care if he’s an undead eldritch horror, he could do utterly unspeakable things to me and I would thank him for the rest of eternity. I shit you not, I would have his fucking children if I was biologically capable of it. I have never seen a being more ethereally beautiful and haunting, and I am genuinely tempted to write poetry about how gorgeous he is. And I would appreciate it if you would ease off my back about it, and just let me enjoy my fantasies in peace, alright?”
Dick’s mouth was agape, speechless. Jason smiled, smug. That wasn’t even the most shameless thing he could have said, there were a lot of thoughts rattling around in his brain and only 80% were PG-13. Even his other siblings had been shocked into silence. He was so proud he didn’t even notice how quiet things had gotten.
“Well, I have good news for you Hood” Damien wheezed, and Jason turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
“What?”
“His Majesty apparently has very keen hearing” Damien finished, eyes trained nervously on the high king in question. Jason quickly turned to see not only a large portion of the Justice League staring at him in confusion or shock… but King Phantom himself staring at him, wide eyed and mouth agape.
Oops
“…oh.” Jason said intelligently, face turning as red as his helmet. He really hoped King Phantom wasn’t offended by that little outburst. In hindsight, Jason really should have guessed that the guy who’s ears were roughly the same size as a car would have good hearing. He could see Constantine suppressing Laughter, and Bruce had his head in his hands. Welp, this is what he gets for being Horny in public. Phantom had completely frozen up, and Jason frantically started thinking of apologies. He’d definitely screwed this up.
Suddenly, phantom’s mouth snapped shut, his face turning bright green, and he reeled back a bit, covering all six eyes with both sets of hands. Jason swore the guy whimpered a little. It was a noise Jason would replay in his mind for ever.
“W-well. Thank you, that is um… quite the confidence booster” Phantom choked out, flustered and flushed, peeking out at Jason through a gap between his fingers. Cute.
“Y-you’re Welcome.” Jason replied, equally flustered. Holy shit holy shit holy shit that response was ADORABLE. Have Mercy on Jason’s poor battered soul! He can’t handle this!! His mind is already picking potential wedding outfits! And that’s not a small feat when you account for the size difference!
“Oh my fucking god” Steph and Tim wheezed, barely containing their laughter. Fair enough to them, the laughter is earned.
“Ahahah let’s back to the negotiations ey???!” Phantom yelped nervously, turning back to Constantine and removing his hands from his face and grinning. He was still bright green and he looked so monumentally flustered and awkward, Jason was swooning once more. God, if King Phantom was interested in a consort…
“I think we should probably give up on Hood” Robin sighed “he’s too far gone”. He was met with a series of agreeing grunts and grumbles.
The talks went on for a bit longer, the JL and JLD finally hashing out a contract that wouldn’t negatively impact the JL, and that wouldn’t ‘have those OCD eyeball-jerks the Observants up in arms later’. Phantoms pointy ear-tips were still flushed green.
“Alright, the deal is made and all the terms are agreed upon. The contract is officially signed. I will deal with the invading forces, and make sure they will never be able to cut through to another dimension in the name of tyranny again” Phantom spoke formally, his voice firm and confident. “I will depart and deal with the threat at once.”
“The Justice League is in your debt King Phantom” Bruce bowed his head respectfully, and Phantom returned the bow graciously. Then the king… lingered. Awkward. He glanced toward Jason, who straightened up.
“Um. B-before I go, uh…” Phantom mumbled nervously, before averting his gaze. “R-Red Hood, if I may speak with you for a moment?”Jason gulped, walking forward to stand at the front of the crowd, before king Phantom. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. Phantom gulped, before there was suddenly a flash of light, as Phantom’s form seems to shift, morph and shrink, until a significantly smaller figure stood before him. It was unmistakably still King Phantom, despite not looking more like a regular person (if you ignore the glowing, the grey-blue skin, white hair and green eyes), his crown and ring still present. Only now, the cape looked more like a cloak, and his jumpsuit resembled a simplistic Hero getup. He also had legs now. They were nice legs. They would probably look great while pinning Jason down on the floor, while Phantoms boot pressed against his throat— FOCUS JASON. HEAD OUT OF GUTTER.
Phantom was still green-faced and sheepish. He hesitantly reached into his sternum - hand going right inside himself - and pulled out a battered looking phone. Apparently instead of pockets, Phantom just kept his possessions inside his body. Fascinating.
“I-I’m cool with exchanging contact info, I-if you’d like to meet up and get lunch sometime?” Phantom smiled at him, nervously. “T-this is a lot easier than summoning circles, certainly much less messy” the ghost explained, gesturing to the phone.
Jason gaped, before springing into action and pulling out his favorite burner phone. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Hot eldritch shapeshifter wants to go on a date. This is the best day ever. “Y-yeah! I am very cool with that. Totally cool, very enthusiastic. I would love to have lunch with you sometime” Jason rambled as he walked up to the edge of the summoning circle, and the pair began typing in each other’s numbers. Phantom still had the claws and fangs, but they look looked less likely to carve through his flesh and shred Jason to pieces (he wouldn’t mind if they did, it’d be such a sexy way to go).
“Um. Y’know, not the first time someone’s y’know. Reacted like that to the Ghost King Form.” Phantom murmured. “It’s just… first time it’s been from someone this hot” the King smiled, looking up at Jason through his hair. God, how does this guy alternate between being super hot and super cute so well. It’s unfair.
“R-really? High praise coming from you King Phantom” Jason smiled, finishing typing in the Kings digits and pocketing his phone. Play it cool Todd.
“Oh, you can call me Danny. My full name’s Danny Phantom.” Danny grinned at him. The king of all dead and ruler of the infinite realms name was Danny. Fucking Danny. It’s perfect.
“Danny then. Cute name” Jason smirked, earring him a blush from the Ghost. “So, you thought I was hot?”
“Oh yes, drop dead gorgeous.” Danny laughed, oh what a beautiful sound that was. “Not to mention what you said had my cold dead heart to skip a beat or two.”
“Was that a death pun? What that two death puns?” Why did Jason find that adorable? God they share a love of death puns. His heart just skipped a damn beat!
“Mayybe” Danny smirked, before tearing through the summoning barrier (HE COULD DO THAT THE WHOLE TIME), causing several people to curse and yell in shock, and gave Jason a peck on the cheek. Before he could react, Danny zoomed off towards the chaos, yelling “OKAYGOTTAGOSAVELIVESNOWCALLMEBYEEEEEEE!!” As he left, phasing through the Watchtower window. Jason stood there, brain sending him the Error 404 message as he stood there in shock. He sat down.
“Holy fucking shit” Jason wheezed, breaking the silence.
“Holy fucking shit indeed! Congratulations Red Hood! You just scored one hell of a date!” Constantine laughed. “Fucking hell kid. I’ve seen cosmic powered entities get flustered before, but never one that powerful! You just won the bloody lottery.”
The whole room was alight with conversation. Jason had kind of forgotten that the Justice League was even there, or that the world was a stake! He flopped backward against the ground, staring up at the watchtower cieling. He’d just, apparently, wooed an all powerful undead spirit in under a minute. Damn. Jason could see Bruce approaching him slowly.
“Son.” Bruce said, tonelessly.
“Save it old man, I don’t want a lecture” Jason sighed, closing his eyes.
“I… I don’t have a lecture for that” Bruce admitted, sounding as shocked as Jason felt. “Im still processing everything I just saw. I don’t know what just happened.”
“Me neither to be honest” Jason wheezed.
“…Congratulations. Be cautious… I suppose” Bruce mumbled, still shocked at the series of events. “Be sure to form contingencies if Phantom’s attentions turn sour.”
“Thanks B.” Jason responded, lying there on the watchtower floor, wondering if that was all a dream. The rest of the League ran around him, still paying attention to the crisis Phantom was actively solving. Holy crap. Jason Todd-Wayne had a date with the Ghost King.
…
“…I think Nightwing fainted!” Superboy yelled, lifting the limp form of Nightwing. Oops.
Should I continue this + post it to Ao3? Lemme know in the comments.
I’m a Ghost and a Bitch. @0call-me-rin0 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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