kreerain

Latest Posts by kreerain

Johnny hits Jason with his bike ("we were supposed to go through him babe!" "But we didnt!") which knocks Jason unconscious. Kitty sees he's a ghost and is like "its a baby!" gif and refuses to leave him there.

Jason wakes up to the weirdest coddling experience of his (after)life. After many many tries he cannot successfully escape the growing group of concerned ghosts who are doing the coddling

Two days later Batman issues a search for his missing son, becoming more and more distressed when the batfam finds no leads

Johnny hits Jason with his bike ("we were supposed to go through him babe!" "But we didnt!") which knocks Jason unconscious. Kitty sees he's a ghost and is like "its a baby!" gif and refuses to leave him there.

Jason wakes up to the weirdest coddling experience of his (after)life. After many many tries he cannot successfully escape the growing group of concerned ghosts who are doing the coddling

Two days later Batman issues a search for his missing son, becoming more and more distressed when the batfam finds no leads

You know what, I just saw a fic where the ghosts from the zone think he’s a baby ghost right? We’ve all seen them and they’re super fun.

But what if it was the opposite? Most ghosts develop over time and absorb ectoplasm to get stronger right?

When Danny died he had a portal open on top of him fusing his dna with the realms. So much power shoved into such a small body.

When the ghosts see him they know he’s a halfa but what if they think he’s an ancient halfa?

They believe Danny is some crazy strong old ghost that needs to be defeated before he regains control of his power or gets his memory back.

Maybe they believe he implanted himself among the Fentons to help hide while he recovers.

Maybe that’s why walker is so made when he breaks the rules, he thought he was old enough to have written them

Eventually he starts to bond with the other ghosts and one day he asks one of them how they moved past dying.

I’m thinking ember.

They’re sitting on a roof one night after a pretty crazy fight and Danny just gets super quiet and ember asks him what’s wrong and he tells her the truth.

It would be 1 year since his accident and he still didn’t know how to accept what happened. How to accept that he had died and been reborn as something new.

Imaging her looking at this ancient level Eldritch creature that all of them had been trying to stop from getting stronger and realizing

Hes just a baby, they had been trying to stop a newly formed ghost from harmonizing with his core and discovering what his obsession was and they had succeeded.

If he hadn’t even been able to accept his death then his growth had been severely stunted by their intervention.

So thinking on clones....human ones would be successful ones correct? What if Vlad had human clones and he was upset over not being able to get the hybrid he wanted sooo....

i do love the idea of the Justice League finding out Batman’s identity and the fact that he’s actually just a tired vigilante dad and immediately discrediting his spooky-scary-intimidating reputation, and Bruce just being devastated about it. he worked so hard on that reputation, on that respect, and it’s all down the drain just like that. nobody flinches away from his glare anymore, because they’ve seen him glare at Red Hood and get a spoonful of mashed potato flung into his face for the effort. nobody cares about his threats anymore, because he tried to threaten Red Robin to go home and rest one time and Tim just giggled at him deliriously before mocking his tone and stealing his coffee. they’ve seen him pick a splinter out of a whining Nightwing’s finger mid-meeting. Damian once called him a condomless harlot to his face when he told him not to bring his swords onto the watchtower. he’s lost control.

he decides he wants the fear factor back and in all his brilliant genius, he decides the best way to go about that is to invite the league round for a fancy dinner party, specifically so he can use all his ‘brucie wayne’ acting skills to channel the essence of every creepy-rich-guy-in-haunted-manor movie he has ever seen in his life. it is the only time his kids have been fully onboard and willing to contribute to one of his plans without any complaints. they almost seemed more eager to pull it off than he was.

they spend the entire day making the manor look old and slightly abandoned, much to Alfred’s displeasure, and ensure that the only lighting is a fuck ton of candles, just enough to light the halls while leaving the corners and edges shadowy and ominous. Damian is allowed to have some of his more ‘skittery’ pets roam the manor freely for the night, causing occasional scritches and scratches to come from the ceilings. all of the kids dress in their best funeral attire, apart from Jason who gleefully pulls on an old white shirt stained with blood from when Tim crashed through his window with a stab wound, requesting a medkit.

when the league arrive they’re greeted by all the kids lined up on the staircase, staring at them blankly and ominously, while Bruce gives them all a large grin and ushers them into the creepy looking dining room. the league are somewhat nervous.

during the dinner the kids act completely different than the league have seen them in-mask. polite, cordial, and refusing to show an ounce of emotion. they pick at their food and only speak in vague sentences that refer to various horrific events of their past. Bruce has never been prouder.

the first close call they have to breaking character is when Bruce presents a bottle of red wine without any kind of label. as he pours a slightly disturbed Diana a glass, she asks where he got it from. Bruce happily gestures to Jason as says ‘my second eldest procured it especially for you, earlier today.’

Diana looks across the table at where Jason is grinning eerily at her by candlelight, still visibly stained with blood, eyes glowing slightly green. she pales, and Tim knows he can’t watch her shakily lift the glass to her lips without bursting out laughing. he refuses to be the one who fucks up first, so he dramatically stands up and declares he must ‘go feed the experiments’ before storming out the room. ‘the experiments’ are in reference to the pen of rabbits outside that glow in the dark because Damian rescued them from a testing facility, but given the environmental context it sounds much more sinister.

Jason joins him by the pen to also start wheeze-crying in private about 20 minutes later, because apparently after Oliver Queen had finished with his bbq rib, Damian had leaned over and without blinking stared into his eyes to blankly state ‘i would love to feed your bones to my animal friends, if you don’t need them anymore.’ and from the other end of the table Jason had snorted wine up his nose from how hard he was trying not to break.

amazingly, they never break character, although it came pretty close when after hearing another skitter from somewhere above, Stephanie climbed up from the table into the crystal chandelier and deftly returned to present the table with a large tarantula cradled in her hands, to which Damian stood up and declared, ‘ah, dessert! i will help pennyworth prepare it.’ before taking the animal and leaving to put his beloved spider back in it’s enclosure. the league genuinely seemed to be under the impression they were about to be served a tarantula-based desert, and upon seeing their faces at this realisation Dick had to pretend he’d dropped a fork on the ground so he could duck by Bruce’s chair and stuff a napkin in his mouth while he got his laughter under control. Bruce pats his shaking son’s back below the table cloth, determinedly staring at their guests with that same creepy-grin he’d kept up the entire night.

every member of the league makes their excuses to leave early, much to Bruce’s exaggerated disappointment. the second the last of them is out the door Alfred turns to face the family and says ‘mission accomplished. now get this manor back to it’s proper state.’ and they have the spend the rest of the night cleaning.

totally worth it, in Bruce’s mind. none of the JL will look him in the eye for weeks afterwards, and it was honestly the most successful attempt at family bonding they’d ever had. he wonders if they should make it a monthly thing. It’s also how they find out Damian’s a fucking theatre kid with a gift for the arts which is another revelation in of itself

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Looking for a one shot where everyone thinks Izuku's hero name is Problem Child, because that's all Eraserhead ever calls him.

Trying to find a fic. It's My Hero Academia. Izuku asks All Might if he can be a hero, gets a no. Then he goes down a list, asking a bunch of different heroes if someone Quirkless can be a hero. Eventually, he ends up in Aizawa's class and asks him if someone Quirkless can be a hero. Aizawa tells him he already is.

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Dick's grandfather is in the Court of Owls.

ic: @batfam-stuff-posts-0

based on this post :))

Gotham is full of flame actives. It is, in fact, rare to find someone born in Gotham who isn't flame active. There are a few sky lines, but most big names have some cloud or mist.

The Court of Owls has most of Gotham's sky flame users, which doesn't help.

Not my post, but I say:

AU where Tim wasn’t ever obsessed with the Flying Graysons or Batman and Robin, and thus never found out their identities. And then at 15 years old his class gets assigned a “fun” research project to propose who resident boogeyman Batman could be and, being the overachieving genius that he is, Tim gets sucked into a conspiracy theory rabbit hole and actually uncovers the truth. Mostly he’s mad that he can’t actually give his excellent presentation bc he can’t compromise Batman’s identity even more, can he?

Gothamites have aliases. It's something that doesn't make sense to outsiders, but it's true. Parents usually give their children an alias as a birthday present between the ages of 5 and 10.

Jason's revival isn't new in Gotham. Minor revivals happen all the time. If they didn't, Gotham would be a barren ghost city. The thing is, these minor revivals take years off your life. So all the kids and teens that died in Joker's attack on a school? They are now adults and teens. Can't go back to your old life? Here's a new identity!

All the dumb grunts getting hired by villains? Kid's who died too many times to get much out of school. They don't have the education to even try for a regular job.

All the homeless people, kids especially, on the streets? Teens and adults revived from kids who never got to learn where babies came from until they got slammed with hormones and couldn't deal with the consequences.

Most people in Gotham have died at least once privately, some publicly.

Jason was living on the streets after suffering under abusive Willis and drug addict Catherine Todd when he got picked up by Batman. You bet he died at least once.

Bruce's parents died? They gave up their revivals so Bruce could still have something of a childhood, cause you bet he died there.

Tim lived alone and unsupervised for most of his childhood? You sure bet he died. Was he also surrounded by the cursed objects his parents brought home? If this boy didn't have frequent encounters with questionable beings, I would be surprised. (Low key suspect he came out immortal and pulls stupid stunts regularly to 'grow up' with 'growth spurts'. Forever 17 Tim Drake has a reason, now.)

So, they all have aliases. The Wayne's and the Malones and the Drakes and the Cobblepots and everybody.

And this means that will readings are a pain the ass to everyone not from Gotham, because by the time Final death comes, you've got at least 3 aliases you need on your will for it to be legitimate.

Random linguistic worldbuilding: A language with six sets of pronouns, which are set by one's current state of existence. There's a separate pronoun for people who are alive, people who are dead, and potential future people who are yet to be born, and the ambiguous ones of "may or may not be alive or aleady dead", "may or may not have even been born yet", and the ultimate general/ambiguous all-covering one that covers all ambiguous states.

The culture has a specific defined term for that tragic span of time when a widow keeps accidentally referring to their spouse with living pronouns. New parents-to-be dropping the happy surprise news of a pregnancy by referring to their future child with the "is yet to be born" pronoun instead of a more ambiguous one and waiting for the "wait what did you just say?" reactions.

Someone jokingly referring to themselves with the dead person pronouns just to highlight how horrible their current hangover is. A notorious aspiring ladies' man who keeps trying to pursue women in their 20s despite of approaching middle age fails to notice the insult when someone asks him when he's planning to get married, and uses the pronoun that implies that his ideal future bride may not even be born yet.

A mother whose young adult child just moved away from home for the first time, who continues to dramatically refer to their child with "may or may not be already dead" until the aforementioned child replies to her on facebook like "ma stop telling people I'm dead" and having her respond with "well how could I possibly know that when you don't even write to us? >:,C"

Can someone help me find a post? It was baby ghost danny and baby ghost jason.

Danny's rouges haven't bothered him in a while, and when he goes into the realms to check on things, they're all surrounding red hood. I think jason is in his red hood gear, anyway.

And one of the ghosts tells danny to leave them alone, they're dealing with a baby ghost, he's only a couple of years dead. And danny breaks down and has a tantrum, yelling about how he's not even or just barely a year dead, you've never been like this to me, I don't trust you with the older baby.

Somewhere in the thread, I think Danny and Jason sibling bond.

Post final battle, they're recovering. Al, instead of coming back to amestrias, ends up in Ra's Al Ghul's clutches. As he is obviously sickly, Ra's has him thrown into the Lazarus Pit, determined to train him and use him against the Bats and Birds of Gotham. 

Alphonse Elric has spent a significant amount of his life as a soul bound to a suit of Armour. His biological father was a living Philosopher's Stone. He performed human transmutation and saw the Gate of Truth. When he gets thrown into the Pit, he performs an instinctual transmutation that turns the chemical infused, magic revival juice into a Philosopher's Stone. 

While the League of Assassins is dumbfounded, Alphonse uses the imprints of knowledge he got from the pool before he transmuted it and leaves, trying to go to America and Gotham.

Meanwhile, Edward Elric is about to break a cosmic representation of knowledge for not giving his brother back.

Vs Danny "dies as often as he breathes" Fenton

Jason "no one's allowed to die more than me" Todd

10000 likes!

I've worked in libraries before and agree, I would be torn between delight at organizing everything properly and horror at how much time it would take with everything else that regularly needs to be done daily in the library.

I have a crack idea now where Danny became like Pariah dark like Ward like you know teaching him to be the future King of the Infinite Realms.

Pariah dark's idea is to continuous his legacy just in case he is ever defeated again after Danny's defeat him the first time

Put whatever magical reason you want to for Pariah Dark being out of the casket of forever sleep

But in my own opinion Danny's parents dissect him and now Danny is now being forced to living with Pariah in the Ghost Zone which in his own opinion is so much better than being with the fruitloop

Pariah's holding of trying turning him into his Prince to continue the legacy Danny decides to play along cuz you know what it's fun let him be the villain for once but Danny decides the entirely do it in a different way

Fighting outfit is a pink crop top with the words cute on it and a pair of leather pants with pink hearts on the side of them he is practically channeling his dressing of Harley Quinn like he wears two different color clips in his hair and he uses a chainsaw as a weapon with the words DP spraying on to them just because he can

Danny also 100% like every chance he can comments on the fact that Pariah dresses so old like imagine fighting the ghost tyrannical leader standing around but shopping bags in hand while his son is walking around shopping

Also Danny and Klarion are totally dating because Teekl Klarion's cat accidentally met Danny and a whole lot of shenanigans happened ever since Danny and Klarion have been dating

But the main point is I've just been imagining the ghost King showing up to the DC dimension and demanding for the Justice League to tell him where the Mall is at in this dimension and then walking himself and the skeleton army all the way to Hot topic are any other clothing store that sells pastel clothing in the mall

Pariah Dark: Daniel you went all the way to this dimension to go shopping. When you could have done that and the ghost Zone.

There stands a boy with black hair that has White highlights, unhumanly bright blue eyes that seems to be wearing a green jacket, a black crop top, and a pair of bright pink pastel pants broken with black hearts all over them rolling his eyes at the ghost king of all people and answering with the most sarcastic teenage tone voice

Danny : yeah old man not all of us can dress like it's medieval Royal times plus what are these matching shirts be amazing for us

One of the shirts is a pink crop top that say disappointment and the other a normal t-shirt that says The Father Of The Disappointment

Pariah Dark: Daniel I don't consider you to be a disappointment that boy you call your boyfriend is a disappointment but not you

Danny: thanks Dad anyhoo a few more things and then we can go back home I heard this place has a froyo that absolutely sounds amazing

Pariah dark: and if it's is not as good as the mortal say we'll take over the dimension just for displeasing your taste buds my son

The froyo is actually really good for the sake of the dimension Pariah Dark does not end up taking it over but his son Danny will be visiting

This the entire time the Justice League is in the background shocked and terrified about realizing the entire time they had a mini God living in this dimension.

I just see Pariah being a really caring and loving parent to Danny while also trying to being a tyrant most of the time Danny does keep him from the tyrant part though but it's even funnier if Danny goes to School in Gotham just imagine having the ghost tyrant show up to a parent-teacher conference.

Sorry I just have lots of time to write out these prompts I'm not a good writer but I love to share my ideas.

That does sound like a lot of fun. This idea sounds more like something I'd read, than something I'd write though. I might try to write something for it, but it will be a little while.

Fenton parents make an invention to reverse a ghost's evil impulses!" It actually brings a ghost's instincts forward. The effects last about two weeks.

The Fentons are in Gotham when they get the chance to use it on Phantom.

Good news: it happens near the Bats, so he's quickly rescued.

Bad news: baby ghost instinct wants parents and turned human to get reassurance. That did not happen and now Red Hood has a crying, keening teenager shaped leech.

Fun thought:

What if Danny is Ghost Prince because he died and was revived by the Infinite Realms itself. Pariah was just a placeholder while the Realms waited for Danny.

Yes, but he hid behind a mask. In a safer (or just less corrupt) city, he wouldn't need to hide his identity. Like Nancy Drew or Scooby-Doo.

In a safer city, Tim Drake would have been a teen detective. Like Kudo Shinichi (case closed), Nancy drew, boxcar children, or any of a dozen others.

In a safer city, Tim Drake would have been a teen detective. Like Kudo Shinichi (case closed), Nancy drew, boxcar children, or any of a dozen others.

“Are you busy today?”

Danny looked up from his phone, where he’d been messaging Jazz. She’d been pestering him to be more social again. Damian had been getting progressively more twitchy recently and he couldn’t figure out why. So, he figured, why not?

“Not really,” he answered after weighing the pros and cons of his answer.

“Good,” he said. “You are coming to dinner with me.”

Danny blinked once. Twice. Damian didn’t change. He still stood, somewhat stiff and formal and agitated in front of him. “What?”

“I am bringing you to my family dinner. Tonight. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

Danny wasted approximately thirty seconds of those five minutes staring in shock, before remembering that Damian could and would drag him out the door sans shoes if need be. He’d done it before. Given they went to school in Gotham, that had meant that Damian had carried him over his shoulder to his car and thrown an ugly purple pair of crocs at him before Damian had dropped him off at his study group. He bolted to his room to grab his wallet and a jacket, then slid into the kitchen to grab an ecto blob boba smoothie and a piece of meat.

Damian grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the fridge, sans meat. “Time’s up,” he said.

“But my snack-” Danny tried…

“You will be fed,” was snapped at him as they left their apartment. “If you must have a snack, I’m certain one of the heathens has left something in my car you may have.”

'Well, shit,' Danny thought. 'Guess I’m gonna need to have that meat for a midnight snack.'

_______

Danny sat at a dining room table full of rich people in their own house and wondered briefly how this had happened. Damian had dragged him into the house as if he thought the halfa would run away given half a chance. Which, he wasn’t exactly wrong, but still. He had refused to let go until he’d forcefully sat Danny down in a chair and introduced him to the room at large as “my roommate who refuses to feed himself properly and is trying to burn the building down by incorrectly using the toaster.” Which, rude.

"How do you do that?” the blonde, who he thinks was introduced as Brown, asked curiously.

"He puts raw meat in it,” Damian growls.

Everyone in the room turns to Danny at once.

“Why?” one of the two largest men, this one with a white streak, demanded. “Even I knew better as a kid, and I didn’t even have a toaster.”

Danny blinked at that before replying, “Well, the toaster at home was the only appliance that didn’t reanimate food. Ever. The oven was guaranteed to do so and the few times we had a working microwave it was Russian Roulette of the end result being animated, electrically charred, glow in the dark radioactive, or actually cooked through.”

“Oh my god, is that an actual reason?” someone whispered.

Damian just looked betrayed. “Why?”

“I did tell you, didn’t I? I’m pretty sure I told you,” Danny said confused. No realization dawned in Damian’s gaze. “My parents are ecto scientists? I know I changed my last name when I came out here, but I was pretty sure I told you about that.”

Damian’s eye twitched. “The crazed, zealot, mad scientist Fentons?”

Danny sunk into his chair with a sigh, resigned. “Yeah, them. After the Justice League took them in, I’m pretty sure they put my sister, friends, and I on some kind of potential rouges watchlist because of it. I’m just glad they managed to close the portal and confiscated all the weapons blueprints from them and the GIW.”

“They only took the weapons blueprints?” Richard asked.

Danny shrugged. “They took all of them, but the weapons were getting really dangerous. They kept upping the sensitivity so they targeted more and more liminals, ecto-contaminated people. I know how to make everything because I had to sabotage or fix everything so it wouldn’t target me.”

"Why would it target you?” Bruce asked, concerned.

Danny stared blankly at the man. “Do none of you follow the news? My lab accident was used as evidence of human experimentation at their trial. The whole house was an OSHA violation. The only reason their ecto levels were as low as they were is because they wore specialized hazmat suits twenty four-seven. That whole thing is why my sister and I changed our last name. So we could avoid,” he waved his hands around, “this.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat quietly brought the questions to a stop. Danny looked over at the man to give him a relieved smile, which grew truly grateful as the butler placed a plate of spaghetti in front of him.

Once everyone was served, Danny dug in. 'Damn,' he thought, 'steak cuts in spaghetti? Must be a rich people thing.'

With the butler, Alfred, if he remembered correctly, standing by the door, no one focused their questions on Danny, for which he was very grateful.It also took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that no one else’s spaghetti had steak cuts. In the meat. He carefully chewed the next bite of meat and sank down in his chair with an embarrassed groan.

“Is there a problem?” Damian asked, a smug, knowing glint in his eyes.

“I made a bet with my friends that I could last at least a semester without anyone figuring out this,” he gestured at the very delicious spaghetti. “I owe them phone numbers now. I don’t suppose you know where I can find Dr. Pamela Isely?”

“And who else’s number do you need?”

“Tim Drake, can I pass your number to my tech friend so he doesn’t remotely brick my electronics?”

A string of startled laughs erupted from the table at the question.

Danny needs a few...odd things. A few dietary and emotional requirements unique to his physiology. Meat is one of them.

But like, raw meat. He doesn't have to eat it often, maybe twice a month, but it does need to be completely raw.

He also needs to eat non-sentient blob ghosts, which are very different from sentient ones. Same amount, maybe twice a month.

He's weak to hot temperatures, where most humans require some sort of positive contact he needs to fight, if he gets too much sunlight his dopamine levels drop, and oddly enough as he got older milk or products with a lot of milk started to affect him like alcohol affects humans.

Now that he's made it to college, hiding most of these things is easy enough.

He chose Gotham, because of minimal sunny days and naturally cold weather. He regularly goes for walks at night, to fill his need for fighting. He says he has a milk allergy, and avoids milk products.

The blobs and the raw meat are a little uh. Those are a little hard.

He's taken to ducking into a bathroom stall to just swallow the blobs whole. But the meat...

He decides to sear the outside and leave the inside entirely raw. Does this detract from the nutrients by cooking them off? Yes. Does it mean he needs to eat raw meat four times a month instead of twice? Yes. Does it mostly hide that he's doing this in front of humans? Kind of.

Until he got a vegan roommate.

Said roommate is far too sharp-eyed for his own good, and now the guy is being weird.

Or: Damian's roommate is a meta who clearly has dietary restrictions outside the norm. It's fine; Damian understands that like animals in the wild, people have different diets. But the cuts of meat Fenton is eating are...subpar. Damian isn't sure how to be...civil, or appear polite, or not be a "snob" if he suggests Fenton allow him to procure farm fresh cuts of steak from cows raised in an open pasture and were well taken care of.

I Think Not

Bruce sat at his desk, head in his hands, fingers rubbing at his temples. It did nothing to soothe his headache as the fire lizards continued to whirl and pivot in the air in leftward circles, chirping and chattering at each other and Bruce.

Alfred stood in the doorway, eyebrow loudly raised, despite the elder man’s silence. Bruce ignored the judgment radiating from his direction.

“Father, I-” Damian burst into the room, neatly stepping past Alfred before stopping just past him, eyeing the fire lizards.

Bruce felt his headache spike.

“Father,” he says again, this time with anger and fire in his voice, “who is threatening you so?”

The harnesses of the fire lizards catch the light, highlighting the flowers embroidered on every strap and, if that wasn’t enough, the icons of the flowers on the connecting parts of the harness.

“There is no threat, Damian,” Bruce let out another sigh as he dug his fingers harder into his skull.

Damian pointed harshly at the fire lizards chittering away in the air above him. “Yellow Carnation. Spider Lily. Butterfly Weed. Basil. Aconite.” His finger moved to point at Bruce. “Someone is angry at you and willing to kill you by any means necessary. Something needs to be done. ”

“Damian-”

“Bruce!” Tim barreled into the room, looking harried. “Bruce, where’s my coffee! I’ve got a meeting and I spent all night working on it and I need coffee or I’m going to pass out in the middle and they won’t take me seriously! Why are there so many fire lizards in flower harnesses oh my god who did you sleep with?!”

Bruce covered his eyes and tangled his fingers in his hair, despairing.

“You imbecile!” Damian shrieked. “Do you know anything about flower language?!”

“Bruce!” Dick hit the doorway and launched himself over the bottleneck of the doorway, rolling over the floor and popping to his feet in front of the desk Bruce was sitting behind like the flimsy shield it was. “Bruce, is Jason coming?”

Bruce dug the heels of his hands into his eyes briefly, before removing them to address his boys, his precious children, the source of his headaches.

“Boys!” he shouted to get their attention over the squabbling. They all looked at him and he pointed at the fire lizards. “Those are Jason’s Damian. He isn’t coming Dick. I don’t know anything about your coffee Tim.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed as he took in the fire lizards’ harnesses again. Then he pulled a token out of his pocket and held it to Bruce. “Is this his?” he asked. The token was of a poppy, colored white.

Bruce raised an eyebrow and nodded.

After a moment of silence, Tim’s screech caused the fire lizards to go between.

“Jason stole my coffee!”

“So, you just use the rocks on blankets border?” Jason asked.

Jazz smiled. “Yes. Sam got us color coded beads for the blankets, and she turned one of the rooms at her house into a fabric shop, but all of us decided to make the blankets ourselves. And for them to be comfortable and meaningful for liminals, the cairn stones can’t fill the whole thing. So, we just put them in the border.” She gave a rueful grin as she continued, “It also helps the blankets to stay on the restless sleepers.”

Tim Drake had tracked down Sam’s contact information after the family had noticed Cass’s sudden habit of putting pebbles, small pieces of rubble, beads and marbles on Jason whenever he’s caught sleeping at the manor seemed to correlate with a less mercurial temper. The teen had laughed when he’d asked about what she’d talked to Cass about and asked for his email to send the information to.

When Jason had started reciprocating with everyone, Tim had called her back and she’d laughed at him and sent more information. Eventually, after Jason had lent Tim his blanket after being injured, Tim just gave up, he wasn’t finding any other information about this anywhere else, and called Sam to ask how many tickets he needed to buy for her to come to Gotham.

A week later saw Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Danny and Jazz Fenton as guests in Wayne Manor. They had brought with them a collection of patchwork quilt looking lumpy blankets and an offputting old fashioned treasure chest.

“And you color code the rocks?” Steph asked, a dangerous gleam in her eye.

“Yes,” Tucker answered. “Not all of us can look at or touch them and know who gave them when they’re all in a pile. It’s not a bad thing, we just don’t have senses need for it. You don’t even need to color the whole thing. I put hieroglyphs on mine.”

“I used to put bats on mine,” Sam said. “I’ve changed to plants or seeds.”

“I just put teal dots on mine,” Jazz added. “I haven’t some up with anything else for them. It hasn’t been needed and I don’t have time for anything else.”

They all look at Danny, who has been locking in a staring contest with Alfred the Cat for the last ten minutes. Sam poked him for attention.

“I put stars, constellations, ice or snow,” he answered, not breaking eye contact. “It depends on how much time I’ve got, how tired I am, or if I just need to keep my hands busy. I gave one to Jazz once that was covered in fern frost and the Aquarius constellation.”

“And you do that for all of them?” Damian asked.

“It makes sense for us, since we just have ourselves,” Danny shrugged. “If you guys do that too, I’d suggest something simple in a single color. Your Fraid is bigger than ours, so it’d be difficult to personalize each and every one.”

Ok, so I've seen a few things that say Bruce Wayne and Sam Manson are Jewish. And I've seen a couple of things about Jewish traditions that say that they leave small stones on graves of loved ones, something about anchoing souls. And there's this one fic, I can't remember what it was or who wrote it, that had Sam placing small stones on Danny sometimes, just because.

I had this thought. Since Danny and Jason aren't dead, what if their loved ones made them weighted blankets, with those stones instead of beads/rice/what-have-you in regular weighted blankets.

Those blankets quickly become their favorite. It's soothing on an instinctual level. Sleeping with those blankets is the best sleep they've ever had. No nightmares. Just happy, sleeping, ghost purrs. Because those blankets are full of love and recognition of loss and ghosts appreciate that recognition of loss from the living, need it.

It's why Ember wants to hear her name, why Skulker and Technus shout their names and titles. They want to be recognized.

Just imagine, movie night at the manor. Some poor soul tries to playfully steal Jason's weighted blanket. Jason's eyes haven't been so bright since he emerged from the Lazarus Pits and he's snarling and growling to impress a dragon. Message received: don't touch the blanket.

I want to read more fics that address his time in Robin training with Bruce and Dick, Jason, and/or Damian find out.

Like, they're all sitting around talking about fun or silly things that happened in training or on patrol with Batman. And Tim is just doing his thing, reminiscing about pictures he took of Dick’s and Jason's Robin, wondering if he could take time off somewhere to get some of Damian's Robin when the others get his attention and ask about funny stories from his time as Robin. He blanks, because nothing with Batman was fun, that was why he was Robin. So he says Lady Shiva getting him ice cream once and leaves.

Or they're going over protocols for Robin to follow with Damian and Tim is just sitting there confused, because it's all stuff he got in trouble for with Batman. And when Dick or Jason tell him that “you can jump in anytime, baby bird”, Tim gets up, leaves, and returns with a surprisingly worn binder he puts down.

Then he opens it, flips to a point about a third of the way through, and turns it to face them. He points at a chart and says, “I made this when the results of your advice weren't what you said they'd be. I didn't know you were supposed to wait 3 days after fear gas exposure to go back out. Bruce didn't wait and if I didn't follow, petty thieves ended up in the ER.”Dick is horrified, Jason and Damian confused. Tim continues. “This binder has the protocols and methods I followed as Robin. I wasn't Robin to contrast Batman's shadow. I was Robin to remind Batman of his morals. I have no advice to offer Damian that is relevant to his Robin. You were offered Robin, one way or another. I had to take Robin before Batman did something he'd regret.”

Something to note about the weighted blanket, the pebbles have to come from the person's grave or have been given to the individual directly, otherwise it's just a rock. So these blankets take a while to make, because the rocks need to mean something.

When Sam started putting pebbles on Danny, it was more for her piece of mind than anything. It quickly became something important to both of them. Tucker also did it sometimes, and Jazz after she found out, but it was mostly something between them.

It was also a little game for Sam: which ones would he like best? Sam ordered little geodes that Danny would display in his room, but his favorites were ones that were picked up off the side of the road with him in mind.

So when her parents took her places outside of Amity Park, she started picking up little rocks and pebbles wherever they went. It made the awful boring trips bearable. She always liked bringing her friends souvenirs, and with this? Even if her parents stopped her from buying anything, she always got something for Danny.

After something happens at FentonWorks, Danny asks if he can store his 'rock collection' at their houses. Of course they agree. And Danny isn't getting sleep, between ghost attacks and nightmares, so they look up stuff that might help. And they find weighted blankets. And they look at the literal treasure chest (gifted by Princess Dora for precious things, that Danny also can't keep at his house) and decided, why not?

The final product is a clashing collection of ghosts and stars and plants and hieroglyphs and tech and puns and books and bats in square patches of cloth that looks like a godawful quilt. Danny cries when they give it to him (birthday, death day, or something to brighten up a bad day) because it settles something in his core that he didn't even realize was hurting.

This weighted blanket that his friends and sister made is the closest thing he has to a grave. If the ghosts come through the portal and find him sleeping with it, they just turn around and come back later. It really is the best sleep he's ever had.

Any way, at some point, Sam's parents bring her to Gotham for a gala. She obviously manages to slip away outside and starts picking up pebbles. Her Fraid has learned that picking up their own rocks means more than sharing or trading, but she has more chances to pick up different ones than they do, so she 'buys in bulk' so to speak when she leaves. Also, the whole thing is surprisingly grounding for liminals, too and Jazz has been very stressed lately.

Anyway, one of the Wayne's, dealers choice, but I'm thinking Tim or Damian, maybe Cass or Steph, sees her wandering around outside and picking something up, or digging around in the garden, gettingclose to securityfeatures. They go out to confront her about it and she just answers politely that she's picking up pebbles for her friends.

One of them died, and we've just started making them weighted blankets out of grave pebbles. They found it so comforting we decided to make at least one for each of us. Solidarity, you know? Oh yeah, Danny died, but he got better. He's just got a medical condition now. And she just goes on as she keeps going around, picking up pebbles.

I imagine if it was Tim or Dick, they start giving Jason pebbles, just as a joke. They see him taking a nap, drop a pebble on him. He's being annoying, throw a pebble at him. And as this goes on, they notice: he keeps those pebbles. They're displayed in his preferred safe houses, and kept in his pockets. His temper has mellowed out a bit. And the others notice. So they ask.

And eventually everyone starts doing it. Jason quickly gets used to waking up from naps at the Manor to a small pile of rocks somewhere on his person. He starts sorting them.

And this gets to be such a habit that everyone starts doing to each other too. Bruce loves this because it's an expression of love that he doesn't struggle with, and that is accepted by all of his kids. The first time was an accident, mistaking a half blanket buried Dick or Bruce as Jason, or a joke putting one on a Tim that has randomly passed out somewhere.

That first person who talked to Sam realizes that Jason's got a lot of those pebbles now. They remember that she was talking about weighted blankets. So, for a group project, the bats and birds steal some of the pebbles to make Jason a blanket. And at first he's pissed. And then he sits under it- and wow this is the best blanket ever, no you can't touch it unless you want to lose your fingers.

Ok, so I've seen a few things that say Bruce Wayne and Sam Manson are Jewish. And I've seen a couple of things about Jewish traditions that say that they leave small stones on graves of loved ones, something about anchoing souls. And there's this one fic, I can't remember what it was or who wrote it, that had Sam placing small stones on Danny sometimes, just because.

I had this thought. Since Danny and Jason aren't dead, what if their loved ones made them weighted blankets, with those stones instead of beads/rice/what-have-you in regular weighted blankets.

Those blankets quickly become their favorite. It's soothing on an instinctual level. Sleeping with those blankets is the best sleep they've ever had. No nightmares. Just happy, sleeping, ghost purrs. Because those blankets are full of love and recognition of loss and ghosts appreciate that recognition of loss from the living, need it.

It's why Ember wants to hear her name, why Skulker and Technus shout their names and titles. They want to be recognized.

Just imagine, movie night at the manor. Some poor soul tries to playfully steal Jason's weighted blanket. Jason's eyes haven't been so bright since he emerged from the Lazarus Pits and he's snarling and growling to impress a dragon. Message received: don't touch the blanket.

Ok, so I've seen a few things that say Bruce Wayne and Sam Manson are Jewish. And I've seen a couple of things about Jewish traditions that say that they leave small stones on graves of loved ones, something about anchoing souls. And there's this one fic, I can't remember what it was or who wrote it, that had Sam placing small stones on Danny sometimes, just because.

I had this thought. Since Danny and Jason aren't dead, what if their loved ones made them weighted blankets, with those stones instead of beads/rice/what-have-you in regular weighted blankets.

Those blankets quickly become their favorite. It's soothing on an instinctual level. Sleeping with those blankets is the best sleep they've ever had. No nightmares. Just happy, sleeping, ghost purrs. Because those blankets are full of love and recognition of loss and ghosts appreciate that recognition of loss from the living, need it.

It's why Ember wants to hear her name, why Skulker and Technus shout their names and titles. They want to be recognized.

Just imagine, movie night at the manor. Some poor soul tries to playfully steal Jason's weighted blanket. Jason's eyes haven't been so bright since he emerged from the Lazarus Pits and he's snarling and growling to impress a dragon. Message received: don't touch the blanket.