“Guardianship Trials (or: why is there a billionaire in my afterlife)”
It started quietly.
Not with flyers, not with announcements—just whispers.
Old beings talking in corners. Doors in the Infinite Realms staying open a little longer than they should. Names being passed around like secrets.
The Prince pretended not to notice.
He was good at that.
He’s not a baby.
He’s not even technically young, not by ghost standards. But apparently, “young enough to be reckless” is still a category, and unfortunately, he fits.
And ever since he and his shadow-twin lost their original domain, the whispers got louder.
He needs guidance.
Structure.
Protection.
He needs a guardian.
The Prince disagrees.
Firmly.
Loudly.
Repeatedly.
The compromise?
A trial.
Not a tournament—no, that sounded too… fun.
This is something older. Stranger.
A series of tests. Of worth. Of intent.
Anyone powerful—or foolish—enough can try.
He didn’t expect humans to qualify.
Which is why the first time he sees one, he assumes it’s a mistake.
The man stands out immediately. Not because he’s loud—he’s actually very quiet—but because everything around him reacts.
The air tightens.
The ground stills.
Even the watching entities pause.
The Prince tilts his head.
“…You’re alive.”
The man nods once. “Yes.”
“That seems like a disadvantage.”
“…I manage.”
The shadow-twin likes him instantly.
Of course she does.
She circles him, curious, eyes bright with something sharp and playful.
“He’s weird,” she declares.
The Prince sighs. “That is not a qualification.”
“It should be.”
The man doesn’t try to impress.
Doesn’t boast.
Doesn’t even seem particularly concerned about the ancient beings watching his every move.
Instead, he asks questions.
Practical ones.
“Are you safe here?”
“Who enforces the outcomes of these trials?”
“What happens if no one qualifies?”
The Prince hesitates on that last one.
“…That hasn’t been decided.”
The man’s expression tightens, just slightly.
“I see.”
He doesn’t win the early trials.
Not in the obvious way.
There are beings older than stars here. Creatures made of storms and memory and hunger.
They overpower him easily.
But—
He keeps standing back up.
Keeps adapting.
Keeps watching.
And slowly, something shifts.
Not in the trials.
In the Prince.
Because this human—
This strange, stubborn, completely out-of-place human—
I'm leaving this for reference for any fanfiction I make or post I make. Take it or leave it. Do what you want. I'm just trying to get all of Bruce's Robins in order and some of the DC timeline.
Bruce Wayne leaves at 17 after graduating high school early
Bruce graduates college at 19 with a business degree (Alfred didn’t order him to, but he strongly inclined Bruce to do it)
Bruce trains until he is 22
Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham and becomes Batman at 22
When he is 23 (AKA Year 2) The Long Halloween scandal occurs
By the end of Year 2 Harvey Dent is officially Two-Face
At the beginning of Year 3 Bruce adopts Dick Grayson
During the middle of Year 3, Batman meets Superman for the first time. After an adventure, they become friends
At the end of Year 3 Dick Grayson is properly trained to be Robin
By Year 4, Bruce is officially stuck in a month long entanglement with the Al Ghuls. Bruce and Talia sleep together multiple times throughout this month. By the end of it, Bruce has cut ties with the entire family and they will occasionally feud.
By year 5, the Justice League is formed
During Year 13 of Bruce’s career, Dick turns 18 and has a falling out with Bruce. Dick leaves to become Nightwing and form the Teen Titans
Ages to keep in mind so far
As of Year 3:
Bruce Wayne is 24
Dick Grayson is 8
Barbra Gordon is 9
As of Year 13:
Bruce Wayne is 34
Dick Grayson is 18
Barbra Gordon is 19
(Barb starts doing Batgirl stuff after 6 months Dick becomes Robin and becomes recognized as a Batfamily member by the end of Year 4)
During the middle of Year 13, Barry Allen dies during Crisis. The Crisis doesn't matter, but now Barry Allen is dead due to stopping a world ending event. Wally West is now The Flash
Year 14, Bruce finds Jason Todd stealing his tires on the anniversary of his parents death. This cracks him up so much that he adopts him (that’s actually canon)
By the middle of Year 14, Jason Todd has been trained to become Robin
By the beginning of Year 16, Joker kills Jason Todd
Ages so far Year 16:
Bruce Wayne is 37
Dick Grayson is 21
Barbra Gordon is 22
Jason Todd is 16
Jason Todd is revived by the League of Assassins before he is buried. Bruce Wayne is too frazzled to notice the fake body
Shortly after the death of Jason Todd, Joker shoots Barbra Gordon in the spine, causing her to be paralyzed from the waist down. Since Batman didn’t have a Robin, Batman almost killed the Joker
By the middle of Year 16, Tim Drake recognizes that Bruce is a hop skip and a jump away from killing someone and forces himself into the Batfamily. By the end of Year 16, Tim Drake is officially Robin
Year 19: Jason Todd officially debuts as the Red Hood
By year 22, Damian Wayne is in the picture and Tim Drake becomes Red Robin
By year 24, Jason is accepted back into the Bat Family as he vows not to kill anyone ever again
By year 24 (basically current day):
Bruce Wayne: 45
Dick Grayson: 29
Barbra Gordon: 30
Jason Todd: 24
Tim Drake: 18
Damian Wayne: 14
Word Count: Approximately 1,162 words.
Summary: The story begins with a nine-year-old Clark Kent watching as new neighbors, the Johnson family, move into the farmhouse next door.
The Kansas sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the golden fields surrounding the Kent farm. Nine-year-old Clark Kent sat on the porch steps, his legs swinging back and forth as he watched the dust trail behind the moving truck rolling down the narrow dirt road. The truck creaked to a stop beside the neighboring farmhouse, a place that had been empty for as long as Clark could remember.
Clark tugged at the edge of his flannel shirt, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. New neighbors weren’t exactly common in Smallville, and the idea of meeting someone new made his heart race a little. He glanced back at the screen door behind him, where his mom, Martha Kent—or Ma Kent as everyone in town called her—was finishing up in the kitchen.
“You ready to meet the new folks?” Ma asked as she stepped out, carrying a large apple pie wrapped in a checkered cloth. Her smile was bright, but she had a keen way of noticing when Clark was uneasy.
“Yeah, I guess,” Clark replied, his voice a little higher than usual. He wasn’t scared exactly, but he couldn’t help feeling a little jittery.
Ma laughed softly and set the pie down for a moment, kneeling beside him. “They’re just people, Clark. Probably nervous, just like you are. But what’s the best way to meet new folks?”
Clark rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help grinning. “With kindness,” he said, parroting what Ma had told him a hundred times before.
“That’s right.” She ruffled his hair gently. “Now come on. Let’s give ‘em a proper Smallville welcome.”
Clark hopped off the porch, his boots kicking up little puffs of dirt as he and his mother made their way across the field that separated their farm from the neighbors’. He could see two men unloading furniture from the truck, lifting a couch and a couple of boxes toward the house. A woman stood nearby, shading her eyes with one hand as she surveyed the work. As Ma and Clark approached, the woman turned toward them and smiled.
“Hello there!” Ma Kent called out cheerfully, waving with her free hand.
The woman wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to greet them. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun, and her brown skin glowed in the sunlight. She looked warm and welcoming, the kind of person who could put anyone at ease with just a smile.
“Well, hello!” she said, her voice bright and full of energy. “You must be the Kents! I’m Flora Johnson. We’ve heard so many good things about you already.”
“And we’ve been lookin’ forward to meeting you,” Ma Kent replied, offering the pie with both hands. “We brought a little something—hope you all like apple pie.”
Flora’s eyes lit up as she accepted the pie. “Apple pie? Oh, this is just perfect! Thank you so much, Martha.” She handed Ma Kent a large glass jar filled with amber-colored honey. “My husband and I keep bees, so here’s a little something from our hive. You’ll never find better honey.”
Clark stood quietly by Ma’s side, his eyes flicking between the two women. He wasn’t sure when he was supposed to speak, and he felt like he was too big to hide behind Ma’s skirt but too shy to just stand there.
Flora seemed to notice Clark for the first time, her eyes softening as she bent down slightly to his level. “And who’s this handsome young man?”
“This is my son, Clark,” Ma Kent said with a proud smile. “Clark, say hello to Mrs. Johnson.”
Clark’s ears burned red as he mumbled, “Hello, ma’am,” keeping his eyes on the ground.
Flora chuckled softly. “A little shy, huh? Don’t worry, my daughter’s the same way. She’s around your age, but she’s probably hiding out in the barn right now. She’s not too thrilled about moving.”
Ma Kent gave Clark a gentle nudge. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Clark? I’m sure she’d love to meet someone her own age.”
Clark hesitated for a moment, but the idea of meeting someone new tugged at him, curiosity outweighing his nerves. “Okay,” he said, giving his mom a quick nod before walking toward the barn, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.
As he rounded the side of the barn, he spotted a girl standing on the other side of a wooden fence. Her curly black hair, tied back with a red scarf, bounced as she tried to scramble over the fence. Her overalls, covered in tiny embroidered flowers, were dirt-smudged, and her face was scrunched up in concentration as she pulled herself up, one foot barely managing to hook over the top rail.
Clark watched for a moment, biting back a laugh, before stepping closer. “Uh, what’re you doing?”
The girl startled, her grip slipping as she dropped back down to the ground with a soft thud. She spun around, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I’m tryin’ to leave,” she muttered, wiping her hands on her overalls as she glared at him. “What’s it to you?”
Clark blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Leave? But… you just got here.”
Layla frowned and crossed her arms. “I don’t like it here. What if the people here are mean? I don’t know anyone, and I don’t wanna be here.”
Clark tilted his head, thinking for a second before he stepped a little closer. “I’m not mean. And you know me now.”
The girl huffed but didn’t say anything, her stubbornness starting to crack a little.
“I’ll be your friend,” Clark said simply, his voice full of warmth. “That way, you don’t have to worry about not knowin’ anyone. I’m Clark, by the way.”
Layla’s frown slowly melted into something softer as she stared at him. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m Layla,” she said quietly, kicking at the dirt with her boot. “You really wanna be my friend?”
Clark shrugged like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Why not? We’re neighbors, right? And I don’t got many friends either.”
Layla’s eyes widened a little, as if she couldn’t quite believe he meant it. She glanced back at the fence for a moment, then at Clark. Finally, she gave a small, hesitant smile. “You don’t seem like a bad neighbor.”
Clark smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and happiness spread through him. “And you don’t seem so bad yourself.”
Layla took a step forward, a little more confident now. “So… what do you do around here? Is there anything fun?”
Clark thought for a moment, then grinned. “Well, there’s a creek just down the hill. We can catch frogs and stuff. And sometimes Pa lets me drive the tractor. It’s pretty cool.”
Layla raised an eyebrow. “You can drive a tractor?”
Clark puffed out his chest a little. “Yup! Well, mostly just steer it. But it’s still fun.”
Layla giggled, the sound light and free. “Alright, that sounds kinda fun. Maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.”
Clark beamed, glad that he had managed to cheer her up. “Come on, I’ll show you the creek. It’s not far.”
Layla hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Okay, but you better not trick me.”
“I won’t!” Clark said with a laugh, already turning to lead the way. “Promise.”
As they walked back toward the barn, Layla glanced over at Clark, a small smile playing on her lips. Maybe this new place wouldn’t be so bad after all.
I've started a small collection of fics where Jason can die but he doesn't stay dead because it's my niche and I'm starving over here.
So far I only have seven so if you know of any feel free to add to this list!
Also remember to check the warnings of each piece before you read them. ✌
I'm not a zombie (but I feel like one) - wingedstarlight - (2,539) - Jason knows that when he dies, he doesn't stay dead. He puts off telling his family until the choice is taken out of his hands.
.
The Life and Death(s) of Jason Todd - Nerdy_Pasta - (7,103) - Jason knew he was going to die.
He wasn’t the first one to fall victim to the cold. He had seen two figures huddled together that same night, unmoving. He had to ignore them. He had to grip the tire iron tighter, and get to work on the foolishly parked car in front of him. Jason had gotten three tires hidden away and all of them off before the weather struck. He was on his way to take the fourth when he felt the raindrops pierce his thin jacket and he ducked for cover. The cover didn't hold and he had to find more, getting more and more soaked by the minute.
Now Jason was in the present. Dying.
Or, Jason Todd is a phoenix. How he dies and dies and lives.
.
Reanimation -Lulaypp - (12,605) - How many times can a person die before they finally break?
How many days can a mind last before it finally shatters?
Jason isn't keen on knowing. Neither is he keen on going through it. Especially when he knows that he cannot stay dead.
.
dead men tell no tales - mikkal - (15,104) - Jason died. But then he came back. This keeps happening.
.
Patch Up The Tapestry I Shred - Hale13 - (18,648) -The first time Jason came back to life he could barely be considered living.
The second time Jason dies he’s just as alone as he was in the warehouse in Ethiopia watching a timer countdown to zero.
Or:
Jason reconciles with his family, dies over and over again and learns why antagonizing magic users is a terrible idea but not necessarily in that order.
.
Jason's Favorite Vacation Spot: Death - 316_frogs - (58,370) -The first time was a fluke. The second time, okay, there were extenuating circumstances. However, a third time? This was getting suspicious.
---
Jason keeps dying. He becomes more acquainted with the other side. Nobody really knows what's going on.
.
Of Broken, Blazing Wings - FrEShAVocaNoob - (189,227) - Jason Todd died. Now he's alive, and he doesn't know why. He has superpowers, and he doesn't know why. He has visions of a weird white room, and he doesn't know why. All he knows is that he needs to see the Joker dead, and he needs Batman to pull the trigger, and he would burn Gotham to the ground to see it happen.
But you know what they say about playing with fire...
(AKA the Phoenix Force exists in the DC universe and resurrects Jason Todd.)
Scenario: Jon Takes Damian to the Kent Farm to Teach Him Cow Care
It was a quiet afternoon at the Kent farm, the kind of day Jon really cherished—the sun was warm, there was a light breeze rustling through the trees, and the sounds of farm life filled the air. Jon had an idea. A brilliant idea. He’d been thinking about it for days, and now was the perfect opportunity.
He looked at Damian, who was standing near the barn, arms crossed, looking at the cows with that half-bored expression he had perfected in Gotham. Damian had never been to the Kent farm before, despite all of their time together. Jon had mentioned it once or twice, sure, but he’d never really pushed. Now, though, the time had come. There was a mission at hand.
“Okay, Damian,” Jon said, trying his best to sound casual, despite the slight twitch in his voice from excitement, “I think it’s time for you to meet… the cows.”
Damian didn’t look up. Instead, he tilted his head in a way that suggested he was trying to figure out if Jon was mocking him. “I already know what cows are, Jonathan. They are large, lumbering creatures that produce milk. Why exactly am I here?”
Jon resisted the urge to giggle. “It’s for Batcow. She’s, um, kind of lonely, and we need to make sure she’s okay. You’re her… owner, right?”
Damian’s face didn’t change, but Jon could see a slight flicker in his eyes. “I know how to feed her, Jonathan.”
Jon felt a pang of hesitation. “Right. But… do you know how to take care of her properly?”
Damian paused, his usual confidence wavering just a little. “What do you mean by 'properly'?"
Before Jon could respond, there was a loud, boisterous voice behind them. “Well, I think we can show Damian how to properly care for a cow!” Superman, aka Clark Kent, appeared, wearing his usual blue jeans and plaid shirt, looking like the most wholesome, farm-ready superhero anyone could imagine. He walked over with a smile, clapping his hand on Damian’s shoulder, to which Damian stiffened but didn’t protest.
Jon grinned. “I thought you'd want to help out, Dad.”
Clark gave Jon a knowing smile, then turned to Damian. “Don’t worry, kiddo. This is actually a pretty important skill. You can’t just expect Batcow to be healthy without understanding how to properly care for her.”
Damian didn’t meet his gaze, but he wasn’t running away either. This was uncharted territory for him. He had been raised in a world of combat, strategy, and cold precision—not caring for animals.
“Fine,” Damian muttered, “I’m here. But I don’t see the point of this… bonding.”
Jon’s grin didn’t falter. *“Trust me. You’ll get it. And besides, this will make Batcow really happy. She’s your pet. She’s *your* responsibility. It’s important, Damian.”*
Superman nodded in agreement. “You’d be surprised how much a good bond with your animals can make a difference. And it’s not hard to learn. Come on, I’ll show you.”
They led Damian to one of the large cows in the field, a brown-and-white one with large, curious eyes. “This is Bessie,” Clark explained, his tone patient and light. “She’s one of the older cows, but she’s a great example. We need to make sure she’s fed, cleaned, and—yup, here’s the part you might not have thought about—milked regularly.”
Damian raised an eyebrow. *“Milking? Is that truly necessary? Batcow isn’t… a *normal* cow.”*
Jon couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, Batcow’s not normal. But she’s still a cow. And cows need to be milked. Unless you want her to get sick, like… super sick.”
Superman added, “You’d be amazed how quickly cows get agitated if they aren’t properly taken care of. Not to mention, you don’t want Batcow to start getting cranky around Alfred and the dogs. Trust me.”
Damian frowned slightly, but he didn’t argue. He watched as Clark demonstrated, effortlessly milking Bessie with a calm, practiced hand. “See? It’s not hard once you get the hang of it. It’s all about gentle handling and understanding the animal’s needs.”
Jon was watching with intense interest, but he glanced at Damian, who was still standing stiff as a board. “Come on, Damian. Just give it a try.”
Damian hesitated for a moment, clearly processing the situation. But then, he walked forward, kneeling beside the cow with an almost dignified air. Slowly, he reached out to try milking Bessie—who, to his surprise, didn’t recoil or stomp her feet, but simply blinked at him.
“You have to be careful,” Superman said, guiding Damian’s hand. “Gently, not too fast. Trust the cow. You’ll get the rhythm.”
Damian’s focus narrowed, his gaze steely as he tried, the muscles in his arms tensing slightly. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, but his voice held a note of determination. He wasn’t going to let Jon or Superman see him fail.
Jon chuckled and stepped back to give him some space. “Look at you go, Dami! You’re basically a cow whisperer already.”
Damian shot him a glare. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” he grumbled, but his face softened ever so slightly. The bond between him and Bessie, however unspoken, was becoming real in that moment.
Clark smiled, proud of the young Wayne. *“You’re doing great, Damian. The animals *really* do appreciate the care, even if they can’t say it.”*
Jon stepped in again, just to lighten the mood. *“And hey, look, if Batcow ever gets jealous of Bessie, you can always invite her over here for a few *cow playdates.”
Damian just rolled his eyes, clearly not that amused, but the glimmer of a smile tugged at his lips, even if he wouldn’t admit it. “Fine. But I won’t be calling it a playdate.”
As they wrapped up the lesson, Jon threw an arm around Damian’s shoulder. “Well, now you know. Batcow’s gonna be so much happier.”
Damian grunted, but the tension in his shoulders had eased just a little. “Fine. Fine. But I still think this whole ‘bonding with animals’ thing is highly overrated.”
Jon laughed. *“That’s okay. You don’t have to *love* it, but at least Batcow will appreciate it.”*
Superman gave them both a warm smile as they walked back toward the house. “Good work, Damian. Remember, animals respond to patience and consistency. That’s the most important part.”
Jon beamed, content in the knowledge that he had successfully bonded with Damian, in his own quirky, offbeat way. And maybe—just maybe—Damian would start understanding the importance of care and responsibility, even for a cow like Batcow.
Damian would never admit it, but somewhere deep down, he was starting to get it.
Heads snap at where Miurel is in terrifying synchrony. The glow of eyes stare right at Miurel and into Miurel's very own soul and for the first time in a very long while, Miurel is utterly, fucking petrified.
The dragon snarls, unhinged jaw showing off teeth that glint against the glow of fire. From the back of its throat, sparks begin to leak out and pool until a dangerous ball of light fills its mouth with deadly intent.
-
*sighs dreamily of painting fire scenes*
Super proud of how this turned out, do check out the latest Tim The Dragon Tamer chapter! As always, beta read by the lovely @catboy-timdrake !
No one had dared to ask why they were leaving the city.
Even though the old scientist wondered how quickly they'd shown up since none of them had had the time or sense to call then or inform them of Ran's condition.
No one… but him.
The professor sighed, ignored the stinging in his ears while he sunk deeper into the car's seat. His eyes wandered to the rearview mirror behind them, where Tracy and Stuart followed them in the second car, along with Ran, Kazuha, and her son.
He wished he could trade place with one of them.
"How could you allow this, Yusaku!? HOW?"
The inventor flinched under Yukiko's loud accusation, and he couldn't help but wished for her former silence to return. When Yusaku had come back with an antidote for Ran in his hand, his wife had been the only one who hadn't asked where this suddenly had come from. She'd watched his every move with empty eyes, no words coming over her lips.
Yusaku had done everything to avoid her gaze, to overhear her silence even though he knew that his wife had already made her own deductions.
The author sighed heavily, massaging the bridge of his nose while his eyes went out of the window, observing how the houses that moved by seemed to melt into a grey mass.
"What do you suggest I should have done, Yukiko? To let Ran die? Just like that?" The actress remained silent, swallowed hard, while the tiny hairs on her neck stood on end.
"No."
Yusaku nodded, finally turning back to his wife, even though he was glad that the professor had taken the seat between them to provide some distance.
"See…" the author sighed, combing with his fingers through his hair.
"… there was no other way to save her."
"You knew that he offered his life in exchange?"
Yukiko's voice was bitter, rough.
"Our son's life, Yusaku!" The author closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to get rid of the unpleasant memories, only to make space for new ones. He remembered when his wife's voice sounded like that the last time. Fresh tears appeared in her deep blue eyes so that he found it difficult to find his voice again.
"Shinichi knows what he's getting himself into, Yukiko…"
"Yes, indeed," Jodie cut in, but the American's voice sounded far less optimistic than Yusaku's. She'd found it necessary to intervene now to stop the pointless accusations behind her and explain the new situation to them. The actress looked at her in confusion, while her husband waited in silence for her to explain. Jodi didn't turn around but nodded to Akai, who handed Yusaku his phone.
His eyes went to the small display, on a text message that contained not more than two words.
Sherlock Holmes
The writer frowned and studied the number below.
"This is from Shinichi…"
Jodie nodded and followed the traffic on the road with a stern gaze before forcing the car into the next gear.
"Exactly. Sherlock Holmes. SH, his code for-"
"Safehouse."
...
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Phew,
sort of a filler chapter I know, but I promise you the next one will be much more entertaining.
Thank's for everyone who followed and reviewed (even though some... more reviews would be nice- jeez I feel like Oliver Twist pleading for more, so just ignore me XP) The last frew weeks had been quite rough... my grandpa died, the x-ray in my vet-clinique blew up and I had to organize another one cheap and quickly so yeah let's hope corona will pass without a massive second wave here in Europe.
Anyway thank's to Tobina for her great work as my beta again- don't know how you find the time girl but you're amazing!
I better turn the rambling mode of now.
I am looking forwards to your comment's / reviews!
