I read the thread and what isn’t clear from one tweet that this 9yr old was reffing an adult women’s league, not a children’s league. And that woman who argued with said child ref was a player not a mom.
Danny decided he needed a vacation. He had recently gotten shapeshifting powers in his ghost form, because ectoplasm could be molded and stretched. The only thing that needed to stay the same was his core. He decided to become a puppy, and live out a few years with a good family. Unfortunately, he got involved in a dog fighting ring, and to keep his cover, had to go along with it. But that didn’t stop him from sending messages to the local bats. He’s rescued along with all of the other pups, and Batman had taken a liking to him. He’s named Ace and brought home with Batman. Bruce quickly found out that Ace (Danny) was scarily good at reading people, and after Ace had broken out of a locked cage and saved Batman more than once, that he now had a sidekick that was his dog. Danny was having his best time being a crime fighting dog.
He registers the soft swish of the vigilante's cape and the sharp little shwings of several batarangs, but keeps his focus on the pups.
They're very squiggly and squirming and the littlest one keeps getting underfoot and Danny just wants them to be okay!
Danny still hasn't gotten the hang of dog speak--he keeps mixing up his woofs and arfs--and going from bipedal to four-legged animal doesn't exactly feel fluid in his brain. It's especially hard to go from his ghost form's liquid 5’6 (He’s still banking on those Fenton genes to kick in, he’s only 16 after all!) to a warm, solid 22 inches, give or take.
The floor is dirty, he has 8 or 9 other puppies in the cage with him, and they are definitely not potty trained. They also keep banging their heads on the bars and not all of them remember what happened to the one puppy that managed to escape but Danny can see the little guy cowering under his back leg so he does what any reasonable puppy-shapeshifted halfa would do in his position: He corrals the puppies in the middle of the cage as best he can.
Danny still can't believe he's gotten himself in this position, though he maintains it's all Clockwork's fault.
Go to Gotham, he said, have fun as a street dog, he said, I'll make sure you're dropped in a reasonable shelter he said. Danny grumbles reasonable my fluffy little ass, but in his current form all it sounds like is a sorry excuse for a growl.
He was dropped off at a nice shelter on the edge of Bristol and was actually having a good time for his so-called vacation. Eating dog food was weird, and the whole bathroom and general bathing situation was also weird, but with his new tastebuds and lowered inhibitions Danny had managed it.
He was just getting his bearings on making the shape shifting a little more semi-permanent (it wouldn't do to transform back in his sleep) when two men came by his cage.
They reeked of bad juju, and Danny had growled and growled, but considering he was something like a six month old German Shepherd, well.
Next thing Danny knew he was being tossed into a cage with other puppies, front row seat to his presumed future: Dog Fighting.
Danny had sighed, then, and he sighs again now.
The pups have all settled somewhat around and under him and the grunts and loud noises seemed to have settled down. That was fast, but well, he's a full 10+ years older than when Danny started fighting his rogues, and definitely a better fighter so what else did he expect? He's just happy the blob ghosts still understood him in dog-form and that that the Bat was able to take a hint.
He makes a little bark noise, to see if Batman can find them. The cage is sort of pushed into the back corner of the presumed head honcho's office and if you don't look around the desk they could be easily missed.
He wasn't sure if it would work, but then the Dark Knight himself emerges from above the desk, and Danny can feel the puppies near him tremble a bit.
Danny carefully paws his way over to the edge of the cage to meet Batman. He sits just in front of the puppy pile and makes a happy little bark that echoes around the room.
The Batman can be stoic all he likes, Danny can feel the relief the vigilante has about finding them (perks of ghost empathy) and he can definitely see the corner of the Bat's mouth curling up slightly. Danny feels his tail wag a little bit, as the Bat opens the cage for them.
Danny gives him a little paw pat on his leg and lick on the chin as thanks, before woofing at the other puppies to be nice.
The puppies don’t fall in line, as puppies tend to be averse to such things, but they do fall over themselves to crowd the big Bat who seems to be at a loss for a split second.
Danny sits pretty and smug, very proud of himself, and his tail starts wagging a little more aggressively for it.
He’s so busy making sure the other puppies aren’t wandering off anywhere he doesn’t notice Batman eyeing him a little curiously.
===
Later, Danny is cradled in the Bat’s arms as the dogs are handed over. Batman is currently talking to Commissioner Gordan whilst Danny, having tuned them out a while ago, is watching his cage-mates be softly put into a large dog bed in the back of a large Animal Control Van.
He sees the other adult dogs in large carriers, and his tail sways a little, making little thumping noises against the Bat’s armor. He’s very happy his little stunt with the Dog Fight thugs was able to get the Bat’s attention.
And then the Commissioner starts patting his head, and Danny realizes they’re talking about him now.
“Calm little guy, isn’t he?” Gordan says, only to get a grunt in return. Danny swings his face towards the Bat, and makes a face. Now that he thinks about it, most of the conversation was The Commissioner talking, and the Bat responding in a variety of grunts and monosyllabic answers. Well, if the Bat isn’t gonna answer…
Danny does a soft little arf! in reply, sitting up a bit within the cradle the Bat has made him with his bulky arms.
“Oh? Are you answering for him?” Gordan asks, clearly joking. Danny, thinking about his conversations with Cujo, is slightly relieved that he’s not the only one who talks to dogs and responds accordingly with a soft woofwoof!
That seems to make even the Bat chuckle, and Danny perks up. He turns himself around to brace a paw on the Bat’s chest, looking into the vigilante’s eyes in glee. He can feel his tongue lolling out, which is weird but not un-managable, and he touches the man’s face with his other paw, elated. The Bat can smile!!!
“Well, now, isn’t that a sight.” Gordan says, breaking the mood and bringing a frown back onto the Bat’s face. He adjusts his grip on Danny so that he’s back to facing the Commissioner. Danny huffs and growls a little—miffed that the Commissioner would ruin Danny’s crowning achievement.
Lady Gotham had given him the 101 on living in Gotham as a dog, seeing as she was the leading expert and all, and the only favor she asked was to keep an eye out for her precious Dark Knight. Danny was genuinely curious about the vigilante, and Lady Gotham had obliged to his curiosity, delighted to be able to share stories of her precious Bat. And there were a lot of stories. It’s a good thing time runs wonky in the Realms, otherwise Danny would have been an adult himself by the time he got the downlow on Batman’s tragic origin story.
So sue him. Danny’s got a soft spot for the Bat. All he wants to do is help, and Danny can totally get with that! He’s here on vacation, sure, but he can look after one measly bat! Especially since he did promise Lady Gotham he’d keep a paw out for the guy.
This Commissioner guy seems unrepentant, so when he tries to pet Danny again, he bares his teeth at him and huddles closer into Batman’s arms.
Batman, ever the hero, smoothly moves Danny away. He bids the amused Gordan a goodbye, and Danny does a little hmph, satisfied.
He’s a little sad to say goodbye, but such is life. Nevermind that technically he’s only sort of alive.
He perks up a bit, seeing his cage-mates jump up excitedly in their giant bed. He’s held under his armpits (are they still called armpits in dog-anatomy?) and presented to them, but not put down. He strains his back paws a little, bracing, but only manages a tiptoe (tip-paw?). Danny makes a confused little whimper, until he hear Batman grunt behind him.
“Say goodbye, chum.” Danny looks at Batman, sure he didn’t hear right, but the Bat jostles him a little as if to emphasize.
There isn’t much else Danny can do, so he does as he is bid and barf-arf, awooo’s a little goodbye to his cage mates. They whimper and try to escape their fluffy little prison, but before any of them could succeed Danny is whisked away and the van’s doors close.
He’s put in the passenger seat of the sleek black car Batman came in, and doesn’t hide his little doggy laugh when Batman falters about whether or not to buckle him in.
Danny makes the decision for him, jumping down into the well of the seat and curling up into a little ball. The low rumble of the car lulls him into puppy sleep.
===
When Danny wakes up, he’s being jostled back into the Bat’s arms and carried into a large cavernous area. There are actual bats hanging out in the ceiling, and Danny is here for it. The man sticks to a theme, and Danny can respect that in a guy.
“Oh? And who do we have here?” An older man stands by the large computer screen that takes up almost an entire wall of the cave---it shines a bright blue and provides most of the lighting. Danny is a little overwhelmed by the new smells and sights and sounds, but he focuses most of his attention on the man in a butler suit.
Arf! He greets, as soft as he is able to. He feels more than hears Batman’s little chuckle. He’s unreasonably proud about it, and feels his tail make those little thumps again, before he’s being passed over.
Danny doesn’t like that, the Bat is one thing--his butler is another entirely. He wriggles and struggles until they put him on the floor, where he circles around to sit primly behind Batman.
That seems to amuse both of them, and they converse a little bit as the Bat sheds his armor.
“--and this little guy seemed to be the ringleader of the puppies.” Batman finishes.
“I see. Am I to assume then, Master Bruce, that we will be welcoming a new member into the Manor?” the butler says. Bruce! Batman’s name is Bruce!!
Danny, who had been following Bruce a couple steps away and sitting like a good boy, is delighted to learn the Bat’s name. Wait. New member?
And then Bruce picks him up again, scratching under his chin. Oh yeah, that’s the ticket!i
“What do you say, chum? Will you stay with me and Alfred?” Bruce is looking at Danny now, and his tiny puppy body is so happy all he can do is give Bruce lots of doggy kisses. Both men chuckle, before Danny is hoisted away at half-arm’s length, but still face to face with Bruce.
“Ace. I think we’ll call you Ace.” Bruce says after a moment. Danny feels his tail wag aggressively, a little woof in agreement.
“Ace is a fine name, Master Bruce.” Danny looks over at Alfred and gives him a little woof too.
Yeah, Ace will do just fine.
===
Three months later, Ace has broken out of the Manor 26 times, his cage (made unreasonably large for fear of trauma) 18 times, and has saved Batman's butt a whopping 32 times.
Alfred has bestowed upon him a custom harness/collar with copious amounts of pockets (filled with medical supplies because the Bat is always reckless, with a special pocket for homemade treats to be given to Ace when he finishes a job) and a large bat symbol on the armored front of it.
Bruce couldn't stop him if he tried (which he has, 20 times to be exact, before giving up completely) so now they spend Sundays and Wednesdays "training."
Ace meets Richard “Dick” Grayson on a normal, Wednesday night, which doesn’t make sense.
It doesn’t make sense because Wednesday nights are for playing training with Bruce and relaxing with some reruns of Gray Ghost to “cool down.”
Normal Wednesday nights are not nights, Ace thinks, for losing your parents and being whisked away by a billionaire furry and his half-ghost dog.
Wednesday nights are not for angry little boys who can’t cry to their parents anymore, and certainly not for something as nonsensical, as life changing as murder.
Ace thinks about this as Bruce drives them back to the Manor, after the shitshow that was the press and police showing up. He thinks about this as he lays his front paws and head down in Dick’s lap, whining, trying to comfort the little boy as best he can.
He feels tears fall onto his head, making his ears twitch down even more, and he tries his damnedest to get closer to the boy even though it’s impossible without phasing through.
Dick has been alarmingly silent, the second he got into the car. Ace had seen him, from where he sat with Bruce in the crowd, screaming when his parents fell. And then he heard laughter outside the tent, and then suddenly Dick was screaming for another reason.
Ace is drowning in Dick’s aura--the boy is so wracked with grief and anger and hatred and self-loathing that Ace wonders how the boy can even breathe.
Ace tries to lick the boys tears away, tries to snuffle his way into his arms, until finally, finally, Dick hugs him. He wraps his arms around Ace’s neck, which is a little uncomfortable but definitely manageable, and buries his face into the ruff of his fur.
He starts shaking, and Ace decides that this is it.
This is why he’s here.
Danny came to Gotham to have fun, have a Guardian of Time approved vacation so he could go back to his own dimension and time with nobody else the wiser, a little break before the weight of his responsibilities crushes him.
Ace is here for Richard “Dick” Grayson.
Dick’s cries reverberate through his bones, barely muffled by his fur.
The car stops, and Ace looks over to Bruce, whom Ace has come to think of as almost an older brother, perhaps even a father.
When their eyes meet, Ace knows with the certainty of the moon falling and rising that both of them will protect Dick Grayson for as long as they can manage it.
===
Ace is trailing after Dick, as he usually does, through the Manor when the boy sneaks into Bruce’s study.
He’s been exploring the Manor, with Ace as his dutiful companion, and trying to “get the lay of the land.”
Ace huffs a little, confused, before sitting down in front of the desk to watch as Dick goes through the study like it’s somehow interesting to him.
He’s inspecting the books first, pulling one down to look through its pages before returning it to its place. Then he’s rummaging through the desk, and then through the tchotchkes behind it.
And then he stops right in front of the clock. Not just any clock, the Grandfather clock. Ace’s ears twitch, but he doesn’t move.
Dick touches the glass pane softly, trailing his fingers into the groove of the ornate wood. He’s a little too short to reach the clock face, but that doesn’t stop him from noticing that despite the pendulum moving, the hands do not.
Dick crosses his arms and puts a chin in his hand, thinking, and it’s such a Bruce mannerism that Ace can’t help but huff out a laugh.
The sound makes the boy look over at him, which prompts Ace’s tail to wag a little. He won’t hide his amusement and if the boy figures it out he’s gonna campaign for the adults to put Dick in the advanced classes because he’s a genius. He’s not sure how, but it will happen.
Watch out, World’s Greatest Detective. He’s comin’ for you.
Dick smiles a little, before coming over to pat Ace on the head.
“What do you think he’s hiding, boy?” Ace gives him an amused little boof, and begs for scratches. Sue him, the boy has magic scratching powers.
After obliging Ace with the best scratches, Dick then drags Bruce’s chair over to the clock to stand on. It’s one of the spinny ones, but balance has never been an issue. Ace still stands to brace the chair for him with his doggy paws.
“Thanks, Ace. Now let’s see....” Dick trails of, absentmindedly, before fiddling with the hands.
It isn’t long before the clock opens to the secret passage, and Ace has to grab Dick’s shirt so he doesn’t fall through.
Once Dick is firmly on the ground he stares at the hidden staircase, a soft and low “Woah...” escaping from him.
He turns to look at Ace, sitting primly waiting for Dick to finish his mini freak out. His tail wags a little, and feels his tongue loll out as it usually does when he’s proud of his family.
“C’mon, Ace!” Contrary to his excited tone, Dick carefully makes his way down to the Cave with Ace following loyally behind him.
Once his second freak out is done, this time inside the Cave, Dick turns to him and asks “Did you know about this??”
Ace can only huff in amusement, before leading him over to the glass cases lined up against the wall. He plants himself in between two specific ones and puffs out his chest.
Behind him, to his left, is Batman’s latest kevlar suit. To his right, in the smallest case, his Bat Hound collar sits pride of place.
Dick beams.
===
Ace is starting to realize that it’s actually a Bruce thing, not a Danny thing, when it comes to losing control of his wards.
He’s lounging on the Cave floor, listening to Dick and Bruce argue their lungs out about whether or not Dick will be allowed to join patrol.
There’s arguments back and forth about age, about avenging murders, about autonomy, the works.
Personally Ace is on Bruce’s side, but he recognizes that that’s a bit hypocritical of him.
Then again, Danny didn’t really have a choice.
Ace though, definitely did.
So, he stays out of it. Alfred comes down with some tea and dog biscuits, so Ace gets up to trot to the old man to “help.”
He supervises Alfred as he finishes setting up the table, before barking for the arguing pair to come sit.
Alfred watches, endlessly amused, as they obediently make their way over without stopping their argument. Once they’re seated, Alfred hands him a biscuit (which Ace devours in 2 seconds) before taking his leave.
Ace decides this is definitely the time for a nap, and so he does.
He’s roused from his light doze when Dick exclaims excitedly with a “YES!”
The boy is jumping around the chair where Bruce is sitting, though he notices they are now at the Bat Computer and no longer at the table.
He smells the scent of tears from both of them, and feels their frustration and excitement and worry and victory all mixing together as one. Must have been a hell of an argument.
He yawns and stretches, making his way over to his boy and getting hugged within an inch of his half-life before Dick races back to the table, grabbing a pen and paper on the way.
Before Ace can follow, he hears Bruce give a weary, heartbroken sigh.
Bruce is sitting with his head in his hands, muttering to himself.
What have I done and his parents will never forgive me and what if something happens to him sounds brokenly muffled. Ace whines a little, pushing his snout through Bruce’s hands to lick at his face.
Bruce chuckles a bit, before giving Ace a hearty helping of pet love.
“You’ll help me look out for him, won’t you boy?” Bruce asks softly, eyes crinkled in worry.
Ace gives him a low woof in agreement, placing his head down on Bruce’s lap to give more comfort. He’s being crushed by Bruce’s overwhelming worry and parental love, but he can stand it. Dick is his boy, but he was Bruce’s first.
He’s about to fall asleep again like that, in the quiet heft of Bruce’s complicated feelings of love and care, the feeling of his hands combing through the fur of his head and ears, before he hears the quiet steps of hesitation behind him.
His ear twitches, before he sits up and re-situates himself beside Bruce, facing a suddenly shy looking Dick.
He’s holding something behind his back, and slowly takes closer steps when Bruce beckons to him with a quiet “Chum?” Ace tilts his head in question as well.
Dick takes a little breath, before showing them both the drawing he’s made: greens and yellows spilling all over the paper.
Bruce heaves a little sigh, amused despite himself, and Ace’s tail wags in delight.
“Since you’re Batman...he should get another winged friend, you know?” Bruce takes the paper from him, and Dick seems uncharacteristically shy so Ace boofs a little in support.
“So I was thinking...Maybe I could be your Robin?” Bruce hums a little, thoughtful. The costume is awfully bright, and Ace isn’t sure if that will be conducive to the whole I am the Night thing Bruce has going on.
“Like Robin Hood?” Bruce asks, absently, grabbing a pen to make some adjustments and notes. Dick goes a little quiet at the question, which makes both of them look up at the boy.
“....My mom, she. Well.” Dick starts, before looking away, clearly struggling. Ace goes over to give his support, feeling Dick relax a bit as he starts petting him. Bruce puts down the paper and gives his full attention, and that seems to bolster the boy enough to stand a little firmer, clearing his throat.
“My mom, she used to....she used to call me her little Robin, because I was born on the first day of Spring.” Dick finishes, voice cracking a little over the name. They both make sure not to call attention to it.
After a long silence, Bruce gets up and places a hand on his shoulder.
“I think Robin is a great name, chum.” Ace gives a little bark in agreement, and the watery smile Dick gives them still shines like the sun---a sunshower in the breezes of March.
Spring is in full swing when Ace feels a familiar aura outside the Manor.
He recognizes the signature, even after 10 years. That’s the weirdest part about this whole thing, the time.
He still feels, distantly and at once so closely, like 16 year old Danny Fenton, fresh on vacation. But he also feels all of 11 years of Ace’s old age, in his bones and in his blood.
He doesn’t know how growth works, in this kind of circumstance. Time is all about perception, but he didn’t think he understood what that meant until now. Some part of him will feel 26 years old, but even now he recalls the summer reading he never did and how it’s going to be a scramble to catch up before heading back for Junior year in High School.
Clockwork had said it would be okay, so Ace pushes it out of his mind. Frostbite had even advised it, something about mental fortitude in preparation for the throne. He’s not really sure.
He wonders if this is what CW meant when he said he would know it was time.
He lifts his head from where he was sleeping with the newest addition to the family: Damien Wayne né Al Ghul.
He swings his head back and forth, ears pricking, before realizing he’s brought someone else with him. This aura is a little less familiar, but he knows it intimately anyway.
The boy beside him grumbles a bit, but allows him to leave. Ace huffs one of his signature doggy laughs. He gives the boy a couple of licks, and urges him to follow.
Damien, though still wary (and stabby, as the others like to call him) seems to understand and gets up from his bed, more alert.
It’s a warm Sunday afternoon, and the Manor is starting to stir. Ace is loath to do so, as his wards deserve all the leisure in the world, it’s time, and he has a big round to make.
He sniffs the air, mostly for show since his aura-sensing is more accurate, and heads for the nearest occupant. Luckily, it’s a full house today for Sunday Brunch. CW probably planned that.
Ace scratches at the door, with Damien making that little tt noise before joining in with a perfunctory one-two-three. There’s a groan, and about a minute later Tim pops out, bleary eye’d and confused.
Ace presses his face to Tim’s hand, the one not rubbing at his face, and accepts the sleepy little scratches he’s given before he tugs at TIm’s PJs to follow.
They repeat the process at the next door, Tim leaning heavily on Damien much to the younger’s chagrin, before Steph and Cass swing the door open, wide eyed and bushy tailed, and full of pets and scratches.
Duke is just exiting his room, still groggy, Jason seemingly sent up to fetch him.
Soon enough, he has a trail of bats and birds behind him, some sleepy and some alert, quietly chatting and jostling each other the way siblings tend to do.
He leads them down the stairs to where his boy is sitting and chatting amicably with the lovely Barbara Gordan, who greets him with a soft chin scratch when he passes by.
Alfred has just set down a cup of tea for all of them, and he beckons Alfred for a greeting. The old man, ever astute, obliges him kindly. He gives Alfred a firm lick on the cheek and nuzzles the butler, before he’s slipped one of his homemade biscuits (Ace devours it in 2 seconds per tradition).
He rounds the table to where Dick sits, gesturing with his hands, before he spots Ace heading towards him. His smile is wide and as sunshine-y as ever, youthful, as he gives Ace a big hug.
But not the normal way, with arms around his doggy neck, no. Dick has never been normal and Ace has always, will always love that about him. Dick grabs Ace by his middle and lifts him like a teddy bear, squeezes him and spins him around.
Even though the vertigo is hard on his dog-brain, he endures it. He’ll give him this. When he’s put down, Ace presses his paws down on Dick’s legs where he’s crouched, and gives him a multitude of slobbery doggy kisses.
Dick’s laugh rings out, with the others’ echoing behind him. His heart is warm, and his soul is full. He’ll miss them.
Then he hears Bruce step in, smile soft as it always is when his children are all accounted for, and Ace gives one last nuzzle to his boy before he pivots to the head of the table.
Bruce grants him his special smile, indulgent, as he sits down. Ace usually doesn’t do this, because he doesn’t want Bruce to deal with dog hair before work, but today is a special day. Bruce will forgive him, and he shouldn’t be working on a Sunday anyway.
He levers himself up, paws on Bruce’s lap, and meets Bruce’s eyes. He remembers when Bruce first gave Danny his new name, and his heart feels like bursting.
Bruce seems to remember as well, chuckling and placing his arms under Danny’s armpits, as if holding him up. He gives Danny a couple of pats on the body, before something shifts, and he gently grabs Ace’s face, frowning a little.
Ace gives a sad, mournful little barf-arf, awooo, and Bruce must understand, must remember, because his face crumples and he closes his eyes. Bruce squeezes Ace’s face a little, slowly bring them together forehead to forehead.
The table quiets down, watching, confused. Bruce heaves a breath and leans back, so that Ace is half an arms length away, but keeps his grip on Ace’s face. They stare at each other, committing the other’s face to memory, before Bruce smiles sadly.
“...Saying goodbye, chum?” Bruce’s voice is a pin, and the silence makes the drop echo.
“What?” Dick’s voice breaks. Ace doesn’t want to break Bruce’s hold, but he also can’t help the small little whine.
Chaos erupts, the bats and birds talking over each other louder and louder. He loves them, these children, these wards of his and Bruce. He’ll miss them, and he’s sad that he didn’t get to know them longer, be there for them as much as he wanted to.
But Ace is old, and Danny is still waiting for Summer to end.
He keeps his gaze locked with Bruce’s, until Bruce finally releases him. When he follows Bruce’s shifted gaze, he finds that Dick has made his way over to them.
His boy is crying, Ace tries to lick his tears away as best he can, but it’s a fruitless endeavor.
Clockwork is waiting.
He steps down from where he was still braced on Bruce’s legs and looks over his wards a final time, ending with Damien, who looks so out of place and confused. He hasn’t been here long enough for Ace to be much of anything to him, other than a small comfort in a home he’s still uncomfortable in.
He feels a pang in his heart, but he turns away, heading towards the garden. Alfred is there, at the door, and gives Ace a little nod. He nods back, brushing up against the old man as he walks out into the green.
The family follows, like ducklings, until they make it to the back of the garden, where the trees line the edges of the estate.
There’s a bench there, and a patch of grass framed by rose bushes frequently used as Ace’s favorite nap space. Clockwork sits leisurely on the bench, a smile on his lips.
“Hello, Danny.” Ace greets him with a soft arf before looking around, trying to spot CW’s guest, when the bushes rustle and he hears the doggy version of cursing.
Ace huffs out a series of laughs, to the confusion of his family behind, when tumbling out of the rose bushes comes Dan in the form of a small, doberman puppy.
When the puppy lands on his butt, disgruntled and clearly still trying to get used to his new form, he sends a glare over at Ace as if it’s his fault.
He glances over at Clockwork, who is now floating above the rose bushes judging by the lack of surprise and fear behind him, he must be invisible to them.
“Dan is here for community service.” Clockwork explains, Dan growling as best he can. “It’s just a bonus that it will also give our Crown Prince a little piece of mind, no?” Clockwork is smug, and yeah, okay, it’s definitely Ace’s fault. His tongue lolls out, satisfied.
He didn’t really think about what would happen to his family when he left, and Dan’s presence here is a comfort he didn’t know he needed until this moment.
He walks over and noses at the pup, using their empathy to convey as much information as possible, to communicate. Dan huffs, but not the way Ace does in laughter, he huffs in petty spite. It makes Ace smile.
Yeah, he’ll be fine.
He sits on his haunches, pushing Dan until he’s nestled within his fore-legs, and the pair of canines wait patiently for the confusion and chaos to die down from the humans in the group.
“Whose that, boy?” Dick asks. His voice is still wobbly, but judging by his and the other’s faces they seem to already know. They settle around the bench, after Alfred admonishes them for making Ace and his guest wait. It’s almost comedic, how they’re so used to weird that this barely registers beyond a few confused words.
Finally, Ace picks Dan up by the scruff, who goes limp but somehow makes it spiteful, and brings him over to Damien. He sits down again, watching as Damien holds Dan by his armpits--just like his father before him.
Ace feels that warmth again, all at once old and young.
Damien looks to his father in question, clearly not understanding.
Bruce smiles, encouraging. “Go on, son. What’s his name?”
Damien’s eyes widen, before he meets Dan’s eyes again. Dan is clearly disgruntled, but his countenance is soft.
When Damien brings Dan a little closer, he takes the opportunity to lick his nose, making everyone chuckle and giggle and laugh.
“Titus. His name shall be Titus.” Damien proclaims, and the bats applaud and cheer, trying to meet the newcomer and exclaiming greetings.
Dan still looks stern, but his tiny tail is wagging up a storm.
Ace feels a cold hand on his shoulder, and turns to look up at Clockwork, who nods at him.
He gets up silently, making his way back to his little spot, circling before laying his head down on his paws. His tail wags, thumping against the grass in tandem to the hollers and laughter of his family, and closes his eyes.
A moment later, he feels his boy holding his face, gentle as Bruce runs his fingers through the fur down his flank.
He feels tears fall down his snout, Dick’s forehead pressing into his, mirroring Bruce from earlier.
The pressure is comforting, like a blanket. He hears them whisper their goodbyes to him, as the sounds fade out.
Ace falls asleep in the midst of Spring flowers, surrounded by his family of bats and birds.
===
Danny wakes up to thundering footsteps and his two best friends slamming into his room talking over each other about how his vacation went, how long it was, and does he feel any different?
He’s jostled between his two best friends in the whole world, their eyes gleaming and excited, and feels warmth flood through him. His door clicks closed, and he looks over to see Jazz standing there with a tray of tea.
He thinks of his other family, and a tear escapes before he can even think.
He cries and smiles and laughs with his friends and sister comforting him, welcoming him back, laughing along with him ass they listen to his story as a crime-fighting dog in a city of winged vigilantes.
The talk all day--taking breaks to eat and play games and finish up that pesky summer homework they still have--and into the night, piled upon each other.
His head is in Jazz’s lap, her fingers trailing softly through his hair as she hums a tuneless melody.
Tucker is wrapped around his waist, trapping his right arm under him, snoring softly.
Sam is holding his left hand but firmly apart--the heat affecting her more than the boys--breathing low and slow.
Danny smiles, and dreams of a smoggy starless city, smudges of black and red and green jumping rooftop to rooftop, keeping the people below safe.
He dreams of a dog, jumping after them, and when he turns, the bat symbol on the collar shines.
Somehow, some way, this is definitely Clockwork’s fault.
Titus stares at the pitbull puppy, and thinks I’m definitely gonna kick that guy’s ass the next time I see him.
He’s sure Danny will agree with him, once he explains himself. Heck, dude might even pummel CW into bits. He’s strong enough, Titus knows for sure.
Because that is Dani in Dick’s arms, and she is not only freshly missing a foreleg but also bruised to all hell.
Titus feels that good old rage bubble up in the form of a growl and forcibly paces away from the sleeping pup.
Damien tries to comfort Titus, and that more than anything had him huffing out a breath to calm down. He sits on his haunches once more by Dami’s side, and uses every bit of strength within him to not go out and find those responsible and kill them right now.
It can wait. He can be patient.
He tunes back in to the tail end of Dick’s story of how he rescued Dani from a bunch of teenagers who were “having fun.” The latter is said with such sneer and anger that it takes Titus back a little bit--Danny had said Dick had latent anger issues, but the man mainly keeps to Bludhaven now, so he rarely ever witnesses it.
Dick pets Dani softly, and Titus forces himself not to look away, to examine and assess the damage.
She’s missing a leg, obviously, and though it’s fresh it’s relatively old--he can see the amputation scar just about closed up.
She’s got a couple of boot shaped bruises on her flank and one on her neck, but otherwise just a small cut above her left eye.
Titus heaves a sigh, and tries to figure out if it’ll be possible to contact Danny for that ass-whooping.
And then Dani’s eyes flutter, a sad little whimper escaping into the air. Titus leans down to lick over her cut, and tries to emit a calm aura to her.
It works, thank the Ancients, and a moment later she seems to have gotten some clarity. Before they can properly exchange information, however, Dick and Damien move into action.
It’s a blur, after that. They go to the vets to get everything checked out, papers are filled, words are had.
It’s not until a couple days later that Titus has the chance to see Dani again.
Damien brings Titus over to Dick’s apartment in Bludhaven, and he tries to restrain himself but it’s hard when her aura is right there. He could phase through easy, but he’s under strict limitations regarding his powers during his community service.
He waits.
Dick finally lets them in and Titus bee-lines towards her aura, nudging the bedroom door open and stepping up gingerly onto the bed where Dani lays there on a large cushion.
Her tail wags sluggishly, and she looks exhausted, but overall fine. Something in him finally calms.
He nuzzles at her, and she nuzzles back with a small baahf. They communicate, using their empathy, and Titus wasn’t aware of it before but suddenly he misses Danny.
It’s stupid, considering he is Danny in some sense, and foolish, since it wasn’t like they hung out. But Ace’s presence is like a giant shadow and when he looks at the stars something in him aches.
Dani, no, she’s Haley now, whines low in her throat. Apparently, she wasn’t the one that got attacked. This pup’s body was just conveniently...empty, and with Haley’s pseudo halfa-status the body survived when she was...well. Placed in it.
She’s on mandated medical leave, and her growl is both pathetic and adorable.
He tries not to think about why she was put on medical leave, but their way of communication leaves very little...wiggle room when it comes to information that’s basically packets of memories compressed into ghostspeak.
He thinks of Danny’s horrified face when he found Dani’s half-melted form floating outside his face, of Frosbite’s worry and Clockworks sorrow.
He shakes those memories away, easier to do when they’re not his, and situates himself around Haley, careful to not jostle and aggravate her injuries.
She snuffles a bit, already lost to Nocturne. The door creaks a little more open, and Dami pops his head in, with Dick popping up just above him.
Titus huffs, and Dami must recognize his mood because he grabs Dick by the ruff and closes the door--much to the man’s disappointment judging by his quiet laments.
He feels a sort of pride well up, appreciating how his boy understands him, and thinks it very typical that Haley would follow Ace’s footsteps.
Well. Bruce was always more of a cat person, and the others seemed more than content with just Ace and Titus.
Dick always was a lonely kid, according to Danny.
As Titus lays his head back down to rest with his sister, he wonders if Jazz would be willing to keep Jason or Tim company. Those two were problem children, for sure, and could definitely benefit from a dog or two.
Haley lets out a loud snore, and Titus can’t help but laugh.
Jazz isn’t sure why she’s here, if she’s being honest.
She wobbles on her paws, which is such a weird thing to have, and thinks wretched thoughts towards her siblings.
She takes in her surroundings--an apartment that’s sparsely decorated, the cushion she was laying on clearly taken from the couch, dark even though it’s only 3pm according to the wall clock---and tries to acclimate herself into her new body.
It’s not meshing well, if the slight vertigo is any indication, but Frostbite had said this was a possibility, what with her being only slightly liminal as opposed to halfas like her erstwhile siblings. He had surmised that with ghosts, and subsequently halfas, had an easier time transitioning between forms because their default state of being was already so fluid and in constant flux.
She’s not a puppy (another accommodation to her apparently inflexible almost adult liminal mind) but a teen, possibly even an adult in dog form. At least that means her situation will end a little earlier.
Speaking of situation, when she gets back from this forced “rite of passage” she’s gonna give those halfas a piece of her mind, that’s for sure.
Dani is still on forced medical leave, Dan is refusing to retire even though his community service term is completed, and Danny thought it would be fun if all the siblings served ‘Gotham’ in canine service so now she’s a dog--she’s unsure what breed she is--in a house that clearly isn’t Wayne Manor.
She hates to admit it, but Dan’s stance on beating up Clockwork is looking extremely appealing to her right now.
She breathes out a sigh, and geez, it’s so weird how that translates physically, and tries to find an occupant of this apartment. She needs to figure out her role and give support, according to Clockwork, and the sooner she can find her wayward charge, the better.
Before she can wander beyond the living room, however, keys jostle loudly off to her right. Through the kitchen she can see a small entryway off to the side, where someone is clearly struggling to open the door. In quick succession, she hears soft but urgent footsteps from her left, and out pops a little boy--no older than 8 years old--heading straight for her.
“Sparky, come!” the boy whispers urgently. Clearly, she is Sparky, but even more clearly, it is imperative she follow.
She follows.
Her body seems to retain its memories, and as she and the boy, her boy, hide themselves in the closet she mourns the loss of this body’s previous occupant.
Clockwork has assured her, when this happened for Dani, that it is impossible to take over an occupied body for long periods of time. It messes with your psyche, and slowly breaks down the original owner’s body bit by bit.
Occupying a, to put it bluntly, freshly evacuated body is only possible because of the combined efforts of Clockwork and Frostbite, with the necessary component being a specific type of ectoplasm. The kind that only halfas and liminals would have.
The memories, though, remain. Traces, Frostbite had called them.
Sitting there in the dark of a closet, held tightly within the trembling arms of Jason Todd, she quietly seethes and mourns.
She remembers, now, the bruises this body has, and the bruises her boy has, and how the stench of alcohol means danger.
She remembers when this body was a puppy, huddled under the kitchen table with Little Jay until he couldn’t really hide effectively anymore under the small table. Not with her, at least.
So now, the closet. She hears, distantly, the front door banging open. She feels, intimately, the flinch both she and the boy make.
She knows now that Sparky had given her body up willingly. That Jazz is here so that Jason won’t be alone. She sends a prayer to the Ancients, a plea for Nocturne to give her soul a lovely dream.
She nuzzles at her boy, who untenses slightly, and doesn’t think about the implications of her being here, with a young 8 year-old Jason Todd.
She doesn’t think about Danny’s pride in the 12 year-old orphan that stole Batman’s tires and made him laugh on the anniversary of his parents death.
She doesn’t think about Danny’s grief at failing 15 year-old Robin II. She doesn’t think about 19 year-old Red Hood and his pit rage. She doesn’t think about how little time she has with him--she refuses. The thoughts can wait.
GOD what a good story, its good enough to make ME cry!! im a stony bastard most of the time. This is a beautiful story even tho there were time skips, it still conveyed the emotions that the characters feel for how Danny/Ace came into their lives and how he leaves. thank you for making this
Aw, thank you! You and everyone's comments definitely give me life. I'm not done with this AU just yet, and I hope you won't mind a ton more exposition in this next part. We're in the last stretch, I think!
===
Danny is 20 years old when he realizes that he hasn’t had a break in four years.
Well, more accurately, he’s forcibly reminded by Sam and Tucker.
He’s had it rough, now that he thinks about it, and the exhaustion suddenly hits him like a bag of bricks. With a 2-ton truck swiftly following it. And maybe even a block of concrete for added measure.
He heaves a sigh and plops into the chair they’ve clearly prepared for him in the middle of their shared apartment.
Sam, Tucker, and Danny lived in California now, sharing an apartment whilst they finished up their degrees at UC.
After figuring out the finer points of Ghost Monarchy and ultimately fixing the “Ghost of the Day” issue they had in high school, Team Phantom shut down the portal and talked some sense into the Drs Fenton due to the immense efforts of Jazz and surprisingly, Vlad.
He’s been trying to be better, after some kind of incident with his parents that he refuses to tell Danny about. He has a feeling that Clockwork had a hand in it, though, so Danny tries not to think about it. Vlad has been exchanging cosmic letters with Dan and Dani, or Titus and Haley now he supposes, to middling effect. Neither of them are coming back from their respective service and leave, and it’s firmly Not His Problem so he’ll accept his wayward godfather with a huge grain of salt. At least he’s not trying to kill his dad and flirt with his mom anymore. Small mercies.
But now Danny sits in the middle of his shared apartment with Sam and Tucker looking sternly at him with arms crossed, and Danny thinks maybe he should have paid a little bit more attention.
Sam heaves a sigh, “Forget it, if he won’t listen to us, clearly we have to bring out the big guns. Tucker, if you would please?”
Tucker nods, and heads deeper into the apartment. Jazz steps out of Sam’s apartment with a soft smile. Ancients. He’s missed her.
“Jazz!” The siblings hug tightly, and Danny feels something in him break. It’s been more than a couple months since he last saw her--all four siblings keep in touch through various methods, though CW is kind enough to relay notes to the other two every month or so--but Jazz and Danny used to talk weekly. Has it really been that bad?
“Hello little brother. It’s been a while, huh?” Jazz’s smile is soft and the guilt threatens to consume him. He opens his mouth to apologize but she shushes him and gently pushes him back into his seat. Tucker clears his throat.
“So you’ve been working yourself ragged, dude. And since you were clearly zoning out I’m gonna say it again. This is an intervention!” Tuck makes some jazz hands, and Sam rolls her eyes.
“You’re going on enforced leave, and before you can say anything about anything, we’ve worked it out. It’s another CW-Approved Vacation!” Sam is as excited as she can get, and Danny doesn’t blame her. She loved hearing stories about his time as a crime-fighting dog, and has always thought it was good for him. Tucker was jealous, but after learning that he would eventually get to do his own Pharoh-related adventures from Clockwork, he’s gotten better about it.
“CW-Approved? You mean...” Danny looks over to Jazz, who nodded with a wide smile.
(After she had come back from her ‘Rite of Passage’, she’s been a little more solemn. Even though she didn’t tell them everything, Danny knows. He remembers Jason talking to him about his childhood dog, and he...well. He could fill in the blanks.
Danny didn’t leave Jazz’s side for days from the guilt. The guilt of sending her there, the guilt of thinking that when it would mean Jason would have been alone, just...guilt.
But the stories she told were so happy. It was only for a couple of years, but Danny knows Jason eventually gets his happy end, not-so-happy as it might be. He knows Jason survived, and that’s all that mattered.
“It was my only comfort, your stories. That he made it. It was the only way I was able to do my job.” Jazz had said one night. She was crying because the memories were fading. As a liminal, the memories would be more akin to nostalgia, as opposed to the picture perfect recall Danny boasted as a halfa.
When she first came back, Danny watched as she spent sleepless nights recording everything into a journal while she still remembered. Having the journal still didn’t make it any less heartbreaking when she couldn’t remember Jason’s favorite ice cream flavor without asking Danny or consulting the journal.)
“But...but Ace died. I can’t just go back--they wouldn’t just take a random--” the thoughts are whirring in his mind, and he can’t seem to articulate himself.
“Danny, calm down! Nobody said you were gonna go back as Ace. You have shapeshifting powers, dude. Just change into a different breed! Personally, I was thinking a basenji--”
“Tucker, nobody asked about your Anubis-bias--” As Sam and Tuck fell back into bickering about what type of breed Danny could shape shift into (with Tucker pulling up a variety of pictures on his PDA) he looked over to Jazz.
“Jazz? What...” She smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I talked it over with Clockwork and Frostbite, Danny. There’s a dog...well. I’m a little bit more liminal now, and there’s a perfect chance for me to...to see Jason again. Give him a little support whilst he’s moonlighting as Red Hood.” Danny sucked in a breath.
Red Hood was a point of contention for Jazz. She didn’t exactly disapprove, but it hurt her to realize what happened to her boy after she left. After Ace left. Jazz is too nice to say it, but after she came back and told her what happened he’s always felt like a failure. He already felt guilty he wasn’t able to help Batman find Robin II before...well. But to find out he failed to protect Jazz’s boy?
He would never deny her the chance to see her boy again, especially since she had so little time...but Danny was a different story.
“Dick has Dani--he has Haley now. I won’t have a place there. I don’t...I don’t think I could be by Jason’s side either. Not after...” Ace had tried. But Jason refused to stay at the Manor more than necessary and Tim was too busy picking up the pieces for the Bat Hound to butt in. After Dick left, Ace was all Damien had and even that was short lived.
“What about Tim?” Sam asked. She and Tucker had apparently finished bickering.
“Yeah, you always said that boy was way too independent and self-sacrificing for his own good.”
“That sounds familiar.” Sam interrupted, but Tucker continued as if she hadn’t said anything.
“And didn’t Dan say there was a new kid? Duke, right?”
“Danny,” Jazz started, gently, as if talking to a spooked animal. “Danny, I know you feel like you could have done more, or that maybe your role is done. But, little brother, you did your best.” Danny wanted to protest, but Jazz kept talking over him.
“And doesn’t Dan always complain about how he can’t possibly live up to the Ace name? Besides, you don’t have to be Ace.”
“But I don’t know if I can be anyone else--you guys know how bad I am at lying!”
“It’s been six years dude. It’ll have only been one or two to the Waynes! You’re different now.” Tucker interjects, coming around Danny to lean his weight on his shoulders.
“And who cares if they recognize you? From what Dan and Dani’s told us, and from what you’ve told us, that family is definitely used to things weirder than their family dog coming back from the dead.” Sam rolls her eyes, before heading to the kitchen clearly done with this conversation.
He feels Jazz pat his hand again, and when he meets her eyes he already knows he’s lost.
“You haven’t mentioned Bruce.” Danny’s heart pangs. Dick was his boy, but Bruce...He hangs his head. Tucker, sensing Danny’s resignation, whoops in the background and shoves his PDA into his face.
Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing depends entirely on if one is Haley or if one isn’t Haley.
Since she is Haley, it will be a good day indeed.
The same, however, cannot be said for Dick.
“YEOW-CH!” Dick’s voice echoes through the room as he rolls out of bed (literally) and flops onto the floor gracelessly.
You would think an acrobat would have more grace in the morning, but then again, Haley isn’t called Bitewing for nothing.
“Good Morning Haley...” Dick mumbles as he untangles himself from the blanket. He gets up from the floor yawning, grabbing her loosely under his arm from the bed to put her down on the floor. She could get down by herself, but her boy is very protective of her and she’s in a good mood so she allows it.
Arf! Her tail is wagging and she’s so joyful she’s bouncing all over the place. Because today is the day! Danny and Jazz arrived last night, and if CW is to be believed, contact was made. That means she gets to see them!!!! If she doesn’t she might go feral and nobody’s gonna like that.
She trots after him as he goes through his morning routine, jumping back and forth and raring to go.
“Someone’s excited this morning---don’t worry girl, we’ll see Titus soon.”
WOOF! She feels her tongue lolling out as he picks her up and heads to the car.
She can’t wait.
===
Jason is having a shit day.
He woke up later than usual, burned his eggs, and couldn’t find his copy of Persuasion anywhere in his apartment.
One of his goons got caught up with some of Penguins thugs and is currently in the fucking hospital.
Dick invaded his safehouse yesterday with Babs in tow and blackmailed him into going to Sunday Brunch.
And now he’s found himself in the middle of a shootout, six to one.
He’s had worse odds, but he twisted his ankle dodging a knife to the neck and accidentally got cornered in a dead end alley with barely any space to maneuver.
Thankfully there’s only two left. It’ll hurt like a bitch, but he can manage. He reloads his guns, just about ready to jump out from behind the dumpster he’s using as cover when the shooting suddenly stops with a scream.
He peeks over with his guns facing out and shoots one of the thugs down. He switches to the other guy, only to pause.
The thug’s on the floor, getting viciously mauled by a puppy. Judging by the rips and blood the puppy bit the guy’s ankle, maybe even tore into the dude’s fucking ACL. The pup is doing its damnedest as tearing at the guy’s face, to a somewhat great success, only to be fucking slapped away into the fucking wall.
That, Jason does not fucking like. He shoots the guy in the face for that shit.
Once he’s sure all thugs are down, he races over to where the puppy landed after hitting the wall.
After a thorough checkover, the pup seems to be fine--just a little bruised and unconscious. He breathes a sigh of relief and zips up his jacket to make a pocket for her to sit in.
He stands up, collecting the guns the thugs had and tying them up, dragging them into a pile for Gotham PD to collect later.
He’s just finished up when the pup starts moving, prompting him to immediately cradle her. Her eyes flutter, and when she meets his eyes she lights up with an excited little waff!
She tries her damnedest to climb up to his face, so he brings her up by the armpits and gets rewarded with a slobber all over his mask. He chuckles, pulling her away at half-arms length.
She stares back calmly, her panting and tail wagging betrays how happy she is just to see him. To see Red Hood.
He gives her a little kiss through his mask, before putting her down.
“Go on now. I think it’s time I go home. Thanks for the save, girl.” He’s just about to shoot up a grapple when he feels a tug on his pants.
When he looks down, the feisty pup has her jaws locked on his left pant leg.
“What? You want me to take you to the vet or somethin’?” And then the damnedest thing happens: she shakes her head at him. He crouches down and thinks about it for a second--before he thinks fuck it.
“...You wanna come home with me, girl?” She jumps up to try and give him some doggy kisses, but isn’t big enough and only manages to almost kick him in the nuts.
It’s so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. He picks her up, and grapples home.
After they’ve settled in for the night, showered and full of good food, he turns onto his side and brings her small doggy body up to his face.
He breathes her in, feels her nuzzle on top of his head.
He falls asleep to the rhythmic thumping of her little doggy heart in his ear.
===
Titus is lightly dozing next to where his boy is enjoying the Sunday Morning painting in the garden.
Damian is doing a series of paintings on the Wayne Garden, right in the clearing where Ace passed, at varying times of day. Today, his boy woke up early to paint the garden at Dawn.
Titus, on the other hand, has been taking naps throughout the night.
Jazz and Danny arrived yesterday, and he’s been vigilant in tracking their auras.
Danny’s is a beacon, compared to Jazz’s, so it’s not that hard. He can tell they split up in the middle of the night, and whilst Jazz was a foregone conclusion, Danny’s choice surprised him.
But it’s not his business to question Danny’s choices, as long as he’s nearby. Haley being in a different city has been irksome to deal with these past 2 and a half years, and he was prepared for Jazz to have the same problem. Hopefully, having Danny close by will ease his...worry.
His ear twitches, and he raises his head to face the house. Huffing, Titus sits up and looks towards his boy. Dami is just about finishing up, so he makes a low boof noise.
“Hm?” Damian looks over at Titus before checking his watch. “Ah. Thank you, Titus.”
Titus, mortifyingly, feels his tail wag aggressively as Damian starts to gather his art supplies.
He can feel Haley on her way, and from different directions, Danny and Jazz.
Once Damian is all set, Titus grabs the folded up easel in his jaws and makes his way to the house.
Time to gather the troops.
===
Tim is, for once, the stalk-ee and not the stalk-er.
Somewhere, Bruce and Jason definitely feel vindicated for no reason, he’s sure of it.
Tim is in civvies, fresh from a date with Bernard and heading home. All night, he’s felt eyes on him, but still he does not know who is watching.
Figuring they might be waiting for a chance to get him alone, he decides to walk home instead of calling for his bike. It’s about 6 blocks from the restaurant, so there’s plenty of dark alleyways to stage a confrontation.
He’s clutching the panic button in his pocket and pretending to be busy on his phone (he’s hacking the CCTVs) when he finds the perfect alleyway. There’s a fire escape he could vault, and a dumpster he could easily use to his advantage.
He pretends to drop a coin, chasing after as it rolls into the alleyway. He makes sure to slowly crouch and feigns struggling to pick it up with his gloves on when he hears the soft taptaptaptap of...claws?
He turns around to confront his stalker, only to find a small puppy standing at the mouth of the alleyway.
“What the--” He turns, still crouching, to face the dog, flummoxed. Is this his stalker? But that can’t be--he’s been watched the majority of the night at the restaurant, and a dog can’t get into a restaurant.
But stranger things have happened.
“Can I help you...?” He tries, wary and feeling slightly stupid. His family dogs may be above average intelligence, but Tim knows better than to expect all dogs to be like that.
Woof! The pup, tail wagging, makes his way over to Tim and sits down.
Okay. So this is really happening. Sure. He heaves a sigh.
“Just give it to me straight, pup. Are you stalking me?” The dog huffs out a laugh, tongue lolling out. Tim is about to call it quits because what the fuck, the dog is laughing at him, when he realizes he can properly see the dog now, under the streetlight.
“Holy shit.”
===
Bruce makes his way down the stairs just in time to catch Dick bounding in with Haley in tow.
The pup is big now, and comes over to give Bruce a hearty hello, but thankfully leaves him slobber free.
She does not, however, leave him bite free. But, well. The entire family is used to that by now, and she doesn’t bite down or particularly hard unless you’re a sleeping Dick, so he gives her a pat on the head before letting her go.
She circles him once, twice, before bounding over through the halls, no doubt off to find Titus or some other unsuspecting victim.
He and Dick exchange hugs and small talk as they make their way into the kitchen. Dick is looking very smug, and the reason is clear: when they enter the kitchen, they find Jason helping Alfred with the Brunch menu.
His heart swells--he and Jason have been getting along a little better lately, but it’s still a pleasant surprise to see him at the Manor. Dick makes a detour, leaning on the counter right at the edge (he’s not allowed to interfere or enter the kitchen proper, but he can spectate and heckle).
The morning is soft, and warm.
“Good Morning, Master Bruce. Master Dick. Brunch will be served in 20 minutes. Might I suggest relaxing in the living room while you wait? We have guests.” Alfred’s smile is conspiratory, but Bruce cannot fathom why. Maybe Selina has stopped by with Harley and Pamela?
Dick perks up. “Guests?”
“Master Tim and Master Jason have each brought a guest,” Alfred confirms.
Bruce raises an eyebrow at Jason, but his son only gives him a smirk.
“Replacement’s guest is a real sight to see, Dickiebird. Try not to have a cow about it.” The joke clearly goes over their heads, so Jaylad rolls his eyes and shoos them out.
When he and Dick enter the living room, it’s a sight that clenches at his heart.
His children have gathered up an abundance of pillows to pile and scatter throughout the floor (Alfred will not be happy) to make a sort of pseudo nest. They’re all piled and layered over each other--Duke is stuck under Damian who has his legs trapped by Cassandra whose arm is hooked with Steph’s and so on and so forth. Even the dogs have joined in, right at the center.
Titus is curled loosely around two small fluffs, making a sort of parenthesis with Haley whose tail is smacking Harper on the leg.
The two pups are clearly the guests Alfred was talking about, and it brings a smile to his face. One of the pups, light brown mixed breed from its appearance, lifts its head to see the newcomers, and he can already see Dick melting.
“Hello there, what’s your name?” Haley perks up at Dick’s voice, but the newcomer places a paw on Haley’s flank as if to shush her. The peculiar thing is that it works. Haley huffs, gives Dick a demure little lick on his hand before laying back down.
The pup gives a little woof, which Steph helpfully translates as Dog. Red Hood apparently isn’t good at naming his companions, but the pup clearly does not care. She straightens up as if proud of her name, which causes a ripple of chuckles around the room.
The other pup, the greyish one, starts to wiggle. Dog looks over, and gives a little nudge with her snout.
“Bruce, Dick...Meet Bat Hound. He’s…well. I was thinking he could stay here since I’m always here anyway.” Bruce looks over at Tim, who is now roused from his doze and rubbing his face.
The pup has lifted his head now, but he’s facing away. Titus, who has been laying sentinel next to Bat Hound, huffs and lifts him up to turn him around.
And there, right on the side of the pup’s neck, is a patch of black fur in the shape of a bat.
Dick squeals--there’s no other way to describe the sound he makes---before picking up the pup and presenting him to Bruce.
Bruce, out of body memory, takes the pup under his armpits and stares.
“Maybe...” He starts, as the pup keeps eye contact with him in an oh-so-familiar way, “Maybe we could call him Ace."
“Are you sure? I didn’t want to...” Tim is by his side now, and he understands the hesitation. But for some reason Bruce can’t explain....it feels right.
He looks over to his eldest, who is now holding Haley in his arms.
“I think...” Dick starts, “yeah, I think Ace is the perfect name for the little guy.”
Woof! Judging by the tail wags and excessive dog kisses, Ace is in full agreement.
Just reread this and I'm still crying 😭😭😭 I need someone make like small little parodies of these. Like incorrect quotes bwysbsg I need a fanfic of a fanfic cuz my heart can't take it and needs more and I love you author and AHHHHHHH I CAN'T WORDS RIGHT NOW
it's surprisingly hard to find quotes that work for ghost half dogs. Who knew?
===
Jason: *says the most fucked up shit about his death*
Dog/Jazz: I can fix him.
---
Haley: Remember, if we get caught, you're deaf and and I only speak spanish.
Ace: what?!
Titus: We're dogs.
---
Dog: Titus has no survival skills, his need to win has replaced them.
Dog: Watch this.
Dog: Hey Titus, race you to the bottom of the stairs!
Titus: [Throws himself out of a window]
---
Titus: Damian is my favorite white noise
Titus: His voice is soothing, I could listen to him talk about anything and fall asleep
Dog: Aw-
Titus: Tell him that and I’ll haunt you
Dog: ...
Ace: Rude.
---
Dick: *gets a call*
Dick, sitting on the couch with a broken leg: Hello?
Wally: Hey, so you have a dog right
Dick: Yeah
Wally: So like, I just got this ominious note that vaguely spells 'run' with a little pawprint signed on the bottom
Dick: ....okay? and?
Wally: So like, it's written on one of your fancy papers? The one with your name on 'em? I, uh. Listen man I'm really sorry I accidentally zoomed too fast and broke your leg--
Dick, realizing he hasn't seen Haley in the past 10 minutes: Wally, run, Wally--Wally, head to the watchtow--
Wally: *screams and growling noises*
Dick: shit. too late.
---
Duke: Oh god, I think we lost the dogs.
Steph: Don't worry. We can find them easy.
Duke: How?
Steph, taking a big breath: BABY! STOMP YOUR FEET!
There's blinking in the distance. Upon it coming closer Duke can see Haley jumping up and down with light up sketchers.
Steph: See?! I told you they’d come in handy!
Duke: Where did you even get them???
---
Tim: I don’t need gasoline to start a fire. All I need are my weirdly violent dogs and a lack of supervision.
in almost every other children's book where the main heroine is swept away to a land of whimsy she's shown having a lovely time; braving dangers occasionally, trying to find her way home, sure, but ultimately delighting in the magic around her. meanwhile alice spends her entire time in wonderland like
look, here’s the thing: alice in wonderland’s enduring fucking charm is that it perfectly captures the vibe of being a very tired and annoyed child who is nonetheless required to play along with adult nonsense.
alice is dragged from place to place without warning, forced to play stupid games with no good prizes, grilled over her schooling and manners and recitation and dress, scolded, judged, insulted to her face, sent away, given gifts she didn’t ask for and doesn’t like, corrected incorrectly, been subject to shifting and arbitrary rules, and then when she gets snappish with all this bullshit everyone acts like a little girl’s temper is the end of the fucking world.
alice in wonderland isn’t a drug trip or a nightmare or a metaphor, that’s just what being ten years old is LIKE. that’s why kids love it so much. even if they can’t quite articulate how, they recognize themselves in it.
magneto can create force fields and levitate by supposedly strengthening and riding magnetic waves, but he can also stop bullets (which are not made of a ferromagnetic material, but rather lead) meaning he may just have telekinesis and fooled himself into thinking he can only move metals through the power of assumption and placebo- in this essay i will-
Okay but I raise you that his children and grandchildren canonically have reality warping powers, and it is just as possible (and more hilarious) if he too has reality warping powers but they are capped at being able to determine which metals are ferromagnetic. In this counterproposal I will-
in a similar fashion, prof x has fooled himself into thinking he can’t read minds through metal regardless of being able to read wolverine’s mind when he has a metal skull, through this concurrence i will-
Sorry this is coming to you so late, but I genuinely hope you had a wonderful birthday full of smiles and good food!!! Thank you for all the support on my goofy little doodles, hon!! ♥️
Tony could feel his heart hammering in his chest at the thought as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Three-piece suit, the finest one he had (which was tailored within a day in his panic), complete with a red tie to top off the look. He had been fiddling with strands in his hair rather obsessively now, trying to look his best and occasionally cringing at himself as he practiced his words in front of the mirror.
He had planned this night rather too meticulously to be humanly possible. Everyone would think being a billionaire meant it was easy to arrange a date night – in reality? That just meant opening up so many possibilities.
It needed to be a special date. He needed it to be the best of the best, the pressure of it making his palms and neck sweaty. He cleared his throat and started over.
"Stephen," he said, voice as sincere as he could, "the love of my life, my ever-faithful partner and my one and only wizard… or sorcerer, whatever," he cringed again.
God, this was hard.
A majority of his life, he had always been winging things and going with the flow, trusting his guts with confidence and relying on his billionaire playboy persona to fix the situation at hand (which, well, admittedly, hadn't worked out for the most part – that didn't stop someone like Tony Stark, though).
But tonight was different. He needed to be prepared. Everything needed to be perfect. It has been three years now and Tony doesn't think he was ever able to maintain a relationship (nor had he expected anyone to be able to put up with him enough to do so) this long. Well, there had been Pepper, but that ended eventually. They just didn't work. She deserved someone better, someone who would dedicate more of their time to her than he ever could. Someone who actually cared and loved her, someone with enough time in their hands to do more than just going head-first to death and disappearing for days on end.
As far as relationships went, Tony wasn't exactly the best partner, he had to admit. He had experimented with some – there was also the whole drunken fiasco with Rhodey (he realised they were better off as friends), and then there was May (the sex was great and all, but the whole… emotional connection thing? Yeah. He wasn't really into that), and a string of several other lovers along the way (he had to keep up his playboy image, didn't he?), but none of them had been… permanent.
And then there was Stephen.
Stephen had been the one to turn his life upside down and downside up. He had been Tony's permanent. Someone who would always stay by his side no matter the circumstances, who kept up with his snark and antics, and even loved him for it.
Tony wasn't sure what he did to deserve a man like him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let this chance go to waste.
Which was why he felt permanent wasn't enough. He needed something more real, a mark that proved Stephen was his and he was Stephen's. That they belonged to each other and would last that way for forever. Till death do us part, and all that.
Tony took a deep breath. He straightened his tie.
"Alright, let's start over," he muttered, brushing his fingers over his chest. He cleared his throat.
"Stephen," he started, "the love of my life, my ever-faithful partner… I know it hasn't been long, I mean – erm, I know we haven't known each other for a long time," he cleared his throat again, dammit get it together Stark, "Meeting you… Meeting you has been the best thing that has ever happened in my life," he smiled, a sincere one that he had never shown in front of camera – a smile reserved only for people he held dear in his heart, "So, if you'll have me, Steph… Could you see your way, erm… If you could see your way to–"
His hand stopped mid-air and his words were cut short as a knock was heard on the door.
"Hey, it's Pepper."
"Uh, yeah," he said, hastily tidying himself, mentally preparing for Pepper's scrutinising eyes to observe every single detail in his look, "Yeah, come in."
Pepper slid through the door, just as Tony turned around to meet her eyes.
She stared.
"...wow."
Tony smiled, spreading his arms wide.
"What do you think? Good enough?"
"It's… wow." she said, and the wide-eyed look on her face has Tony sweating.
"That's…" he chuckled, almost letting his nervousness slip, "That's a good thing, right?"
"Yes! I mean, of course, Tony. You look… you really put in extra effort in this, did you?" she replied, and Tony smiled at that.
She stepped up to him, hands brushing against his chest and tugging at his tie, neatening it. "Good luck, Tony," she looked up at him, eyes sincere, "I wish you both the best." Tony smiled.
*.~ ◇ ~.*
"Where are you going?" Wong asked as he saw Stephen step down the stairs of the Sanctum, looking almost like a completely different person with his tuxedo and slick-backed hair.
"I'm… going on a date."
"A date?"
"...yes, a date."
"With Stark?" Stephen nodded almost sheepishly. Wong snorted at that.
"Where?"
"The Ritz."
Not a surprise for him. Being a billionaire meant being able to dine in the Ritz like how one would go to McDonalds.
"Well," the librarian turned his head back to the book on his lap. "Have fun. And don't forget to use protection."
"Wong!" Stephen protested. The other sorcerer could barely hide his smirk at the flustered reaction.
Just then, a knock sounded from the Sanctum entrance. Stephen couldn't help but perk up at that, stifling a giddy smile as he sauntered over to open the door.
Tony stood there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. The man seemed stunned.
"...hi," Stephen said, smiling. Tony snapped out of his trance and finally responded with a croaked, "Hey."
And then the engineer froze again as he stared at Stephen's face.
Stephen stared back, trying not to feel too awkward at the situation.
"Are… those for me?" Stephen pointed at the flowers.
"Hm?" Tony flitted his eyes to where Stephen pointed, "Oh! Yeah. It's uh, for you. Yes."
"They're… very beautiful," he remarked, "Thank you."
Stephen accepted them with a warm smile and quickly portaled it to be placed in a conjured vase. The sorcerer then leant in to peck a quick, chaste kiss over Tony's cheek, delighting in the slight flush it caused on the other man.
"Sh-shall we?" Tony said, stepping aside. Stephen nodded, conjuring a portal to a nearby alley close by their restaurant.
(Tony knew he hated cars. He wouldn't ever take Stephen on a ride unless the sorcerer stated otherwise. They had agreed on portals as their main transportation mode since the first time they dated.)
They both stepped through, shoulder-to-shoulder. They walked through the alley, when suddenly a man shouldered his way between them with a muttered 'sorry'.
Tony huffed.
"Rude."
Stephen, on the other hand, was frowning. He grabbed the man's shoulder and turned him to their direction. True enough, the smuggler snuck out his wallet and was in the middle of tucking it in his pocket. Stephen sighed.
"Great. Would you please give that back? You won't really find anything of value in there."
The man scowled at him. He pulled out the wallet, opened it, and Stephen had to suppress an embarrassed wince at how pathetic the inside was.
The man raised his brow, looking up. He turned his head to Tony, and his eyes widened.
"Tony Stark?"
Tony looked at him. "The one and only."
The smuggler huffed out a laugh.
"You're telling me," he pointed at Stephen, "A guy like you dates Tony Stark?"
Stephen looked down, but Tony had a stern expression on his face.
"Watch it, jerk face," the engineer warned, hands in fists.
"I mean. It's no wonder, the guy's a billionaire and you want a slice of that, don't ya?" the man stepped ever so closer but not Stephen nor Tony backed down.
The smuggler tsked at him. "Especially with those hideous hands, I bet y–"
The man was suddenly knocked off his feet with the force of Tony's angry fist, his body toppling to the ground as a trail of blood came out of his – seemingly broken – nose. Tony composed himself as he took deep breaths, his anger levels out of the roof.
"Bastard," he spat out, "We can't have a single date night that goes smoothly, can we?" He inspected his red knuckles, waving it off.
Stephen stood and stared at the prone body, and then at Tony.
A moment lapsed in silence. And then a giggle errupted from the sorcerer, almost uncalled for. Tony frowned, but couldn't help joining in.
"What? What's so funny?" he said in-between chuckles.
"No, it's just…" Stephen looked into his eyes, his blue-green-grey eyes glinting in the city lights. "Thank you."
I’ve read in old interviews with Milt Khal’s fellow animators that he did the swaggle to purposefully show off. Moving the head in 3-d space is an exceptionally hard thing to do but Khal upped the level of difficulty to a place many animators wouldn’t go.
Not only are they all doing the swaggle you’ll notice they are all TALKING while they are doing it. This is back in the days where you had to use a timing sheet to pace your animation and a head swaggle doesn’t work if its too slow or too fast so he had to figure out the right speed so it looked natural while the character finishes what they have to say while not interfering with the distinct mouth shapes.
Not only did Khal do it without any shifting weight problems or timing issues he would often do it while moving the rest of the body. This isn’t his signature move just because he was good at it.This is his signature move because he was one of the only people skilled enough to DO IT AT ALL.
can’t find the post that’s already circulating about this now but there really is no medical privacy in star trek whatsoever. imagine if a stranger walked into your doctor’s appointment and asked for your medical details, your doctor obliged without question, and then the stranger demanded you be killed. bonkers
Other people have already pointed this out in the notes, but this show was released from 1987-1991 and HIPAA, the federal law that establishes doctor/patient confidentiality, only passed in 1996.
Doctor patient confidentiality did not exist when this show aired.
So many of the rights you think of as sacred and fundamental and universal and permanent are younger than the average millennial. So many of your legal protections are tacked together with the legal system’s equivalent of tissue paper and elmer’s glue.
janainaart
yousharknotpass
jbbartram-illu
snowghoul
2087
titsay
areudirty
germansingergirl
gummygunk
annaxmalina
kianamaiart
