#And to see why Danny Fenton is marked as dead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 2 months

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Keeping It Close To The Chest Pt 4

Hi Friends! Part four is here for you first!

General warnings for ya'll

Big sads, panic, PTSD, flashbacks/traumatic memories, Danny should come with his own warning, canonical plus one death but it's Danny, guilt (does it classify as survivor guilt? idk)

Anyway! I hope you enjoy! The Ao3 version will be up soon too!

Stay safe, take care of yourselves please, take your meds if you need to, water yourself, eat some food, get some sun! Much love to you all

~Ren

Danny hadn’t woken up this comfortable in a long time. Fingers dragged through his hair carefully working out knots before scratching at his scalp. He was curled into someone’s side. His automatic thought is he crawled into bed with Jazz after patrol. He grumbles a reply as he tries to bury his face deeper into the shirt? Blanket? Whatever it was, it was soft against his cheek. His core is purring in contentment. He feels safe. Something he hasn’t truly felt in a long time. He melts, even if Danny doesn’t understand why the logical part of his brain is begging him to be suspicious. He pushes the thought away and wants to revel in being close to his sister, just for a moment.

A voice breaks the silence. “Are you awake Danyal?” It comes out hushed, but warm and fond. A distinctly male voice. Danny jerks so harshly the boy he’s resting with begins fussing, worried Danny pulled something.

Danny’s eyes shoot open and he tries to rear back to get a good look, something pulls in his chest but Danny ignores it. His brother’s arm tightens around him keeping him nestled into his side. His brother is staring back at him. Danny looks him over for the first time since he died in the League all those years ago.

Short dark hair and a face like his own. Danny wants to weep gazing into his emerald eyes. How often had he transformed just to see green eyes instead of blue. Even if doing so brought his memories of the lazarus pits to the surface.

(He doesn’t really remember, it was a wisp of a memory. His Mother carefully hiding their presence as she rushed his limp body to the pits. It was just nothingness… for once. No more harsh shouts and bruises just the soft transition from alive to dead. His heart had stopped, his lungs refused to bring in more air and then nothing changed to screaming pain searing him down to his bones, or maybe he was the thing screaming as he could feel what little air he had escaped into the toxic water he had been tossed into. He remembers the frantic way he swam upwards, breakinging the surface with hacks and coughs, only to see an unfamiliar landscape around him. This water was actually water, some sort of lake as far as he could tell. A little girl sitting on the dock had reached over and pulled him out of the water by the scruff of his shirt. When Jazz would recall she had always fondly said she had fished out her rabid kitten that day. The rest was history.)

Danny couldn’t help himself. Kept going back to his mirror to stare into toxic swirling green, trying so desperately to see his brother reflected back. Only to swallow disappointment when the reflection always fell short. For all his genius, for all the solid, crystal clear memories he does have of Damian they are few. All the more Danny hoarded them cradled in between his ribs, mapped them along the many scars that he gained before meeting the Fentons. He had spent so many nights tracing them trying to remember just how he had gotten the mark, Danny instinctually knew that they would lead him to remembering the boy who’s shadows haunted him. Desperate and determined to hold onto any connection to his older brother.

Danny takes a moment to really look at Damian. Damian looks healthy, a bit tired maybe, but his clothes are casual and clean. Nothing like what they wore in training. Damian isn’t as tan as he was as a child, but it was a small difference. There is a faint scar by Damian’s left eye that catches Danny’s attention, it trails down his cheek and under his ear. His hand moves to cup his twin’s face without thinking, softly tracing the mark. Danny aches at the thought that Damian could’ve lost an eye while they were apart. A few more inches down or over and his brother wouldn’t be alive in front of him like this.

“Damian” The name comes out broken, filled with reverence and awe. Danny can be certain at least in this moment they are safe, together now after a decade. Damian wouldn’t allow himself to be truly relaxed if they were still in danger.

The world resettles around him. Danny remembers his escape, the portal that ripped through reality to reunite him with his twin. There was so much blood, Danny was sure he was gonna die for good on the floor of some dirty warehouse. Shame floods his system and settles beneath his lungs. Danny grips his hair in frustration as he tries to fill in the yawning blank spots of the last twenty four hours. His delirious panic yesterday is mostly a blur, he can remember soft whispers of Arabic and careful touches. How far he has fallen. He should know better. He should be better.

He sees the questions that Damian wants to demand answers for behind his favorite pair of green eyes, the frustration that builds under his skin the longer his brother waits to ask. He wishes Damian would just ask him. Danny takes a trembling breath. Danny is confused why he would hesitate, his brother was never one to hold his tongue. A quick glance around some sort of medical room. It seems for now they are alone, proof Damian has some sort of regard or leverage here with their Father. With slight amusement, Danny catches the slight glare of wire and is sure part of the peace came from his twin having trapped any entry points into the room.

As Danny takes more in the room uncertainty takes root as he starts catching sight of more of his brother’s traps, he was very thorough. Like he was trapping his bedroom in the League from those who would want to cull one of the young heirs.

Perhaps Damian is also uncertain about his family’s reaction to Danny since he felt the need to defend them in such a way. Truth was Danny had no idea what any of the Bats were truly like. A few rumors about how metas weren’t welcome in Gotham had circulated but other than his childhood stories about their mysterious father Danny was going into this blind. His mother’s opinion was one thing, but Danny refused to be blinded by his feelings again so soon. Mother had said their father loved them, but what assurance was that? Mother wasn’t exactly a good standard to judge others on. The Fentons had said they loved him, they had taken him in as one of their own and raised him. After watching him grow up they didn’t flinch once strapping him to that table. Danny wants to ask just what about his existence is such a threat he must be wiped from the Earth, his memory squashed and scattered. Singular snapshots in time that are taken as the whole of his being. He could run again if he had to, if things go south and Batman also believes Phantom is a threat. If the vigilante wants to turn him over to the GIW...

A shiver works its way down Danny’s spine and he pulls Damian closer. He can be untouchable and invisible in seconds, Danny reminds himself. The thought of leaving Damian so soon after their reunion makes him pale and his core protest in his chest. His form shutters for a brief moment. Danny tried to shove down the sudden desperation and panic he felt. He had nowhere else he wanted to be, together they could figure something out. Danny wouldn’t have to run.

His brother is watching him carefully, goes to say something but Danny needs his older brother to just listen for a moment and pushes closer, a gentle hand over Damian’s mouth to silence him. “You said we were with Father. Do you trust them? Are you safe here?” The Arabic stumbles out of him in a hushed whisper.

They stay like that, staring at each other. An assessment. Danny wants to shrink under his twin’s steady gaze but won’t look away. How Damian responds is important, Danny might be out of practice reading his brother’s expressions but if he tries to placate him, if Danyal isn’t safe here, Damian won’t be able to fully hide his unease. A soft grip pulls his hand away and Damian looks exasperated as he leans forward to bump their temple’s together. “Yes. Our Father adopted many children that despite their overdramatic behavior, they are reliable,” Damian says it begrudgingly but he also sounds incredibly fond. Well, fond for Damian. His brother had never given out meaningless praise before Danny was sure that hadn’t changed in their time apart. He can picture the way Damian’s face softens as he whispers between them, “Father allows me to care for a handful of animals and last Christmas Grayson and Pennyworth presented me with a Studio to create my art pieces in. ”

A soft awed sound leaves him as Danny tips his head forward onto Damian’s shoulder. It’s just like Damian to know exactly what Danny was searching for even after all these years. Damian can indulge in things that once were decreed by Grandfather as weak here. He can be vulnerable and is with enough regularity that he has a special studio that was made specifically for him to use and a multitude of animals to care for. Danny is suddenly so happy Damian can spend his days petting animals and creating art on canvas instead of training. His brother could hold a brush in his hand instead of honing himself into a weapon to be wielded for the benefit of their Grandfather and his legacy. This was what they whispered about in the dark as children.

Relief is sweet, his body sags into Damian’s. Danny’s smile is so big it almost takes up his whole face, he’s almost drunk with how the release bubbles through his veins. His brother wouldn’t lie to him. If Damian would now just ask the questions they both know he’s itching to, Danny can answer them. Danny will trust his brother, if he trusts the family he is with now then he will too. Likely feeling Danny’s rising nerves Damian leans to catch his eye. “What happened to you, Danyal?”

Danny can’t help the bitter laugh that leaves him as he sags back into the bed. This conversation will be long and he’d prefer not to go over it twice. “You wanna gather the Bats? I don’t want to go over this a million times.” He can’t help how sad and tired it comes out.

It’s not the reaction Damian was expecting, unsure what sparked the change in his twin as he just blinks at Danny for a moment before smoothly replying. “ No one but me has access to the Recovery Room at this moment, although Pennyworth has successfully pleaded for his access to be temporarily reinstated when your bandages need to be changed and wounds assessed. I have stayed close to you since we brought you back since we were unsure if you would recognize any of the others and I refused to risk you panicking and reopening your chest wound again.” The hard glare at Danny’s chest makes it clear that Danny will not be escaping the care now that he is conscious and that Damian was aware of the possibility Danny pulled something earlier. He prayed he didn’t pop a stitch, half-ghost or not Damian was still very scary when upset.

With a huff Damian adds, “Though the family is sure watching through the cameras as they are both worried and incredibly nosy, especially when a new sibling is involved.” Danny could barely breathe, his gaze bounced about trying to spot the glint of a camera lens. The room felt smaller. How long have they been watching them? Why wouldn’t they confront him? When would people stop impersonally observing him? Were they scared to be close to him? Worried about contamination?

Before the fear could settle Damian caught Danny’s attention. “I simply meant you only have to tell me, once, here. I.. We had thought you would prefer what privacy we can afford while we determined who had done this to you.” The uneasy lit to Damian’s words was matched by his restless need to play with Danny’s fingers. “The family while well intentioned, can be overwhelming. It is difficult gathering everyone and having them sit quietly for extended periods of time and our family is… large.”

Danny sat stunned. He would never say his brother was mean or cruel in their childhood but consideration of another person was frowned upon outside of ensuring the success of team missions. More often than not those who couldn’t keep up didn’t return. It’s just how the League had worked. For his twin to shield him, possibly creating tension amongst his family just to make Danny feel comfortable. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

It hurt to see how much his twin had grown in Danny’s absence but it also made Danny flush with pride. Damian’s behavior is proof to Damian’s claims that their father truly is different, maybe even safe for someone like Danny. Swallowing all the things he could say Danny clears his throat with a small but real smile, “Thank you Dami.”

Once Danny makes a decision he throws himself in head first, this will be no different. Danny has to start at the beginning. He must tell them everything to have a hope of them understanding how Danny ended up dropping through a portal to his brother’s side. For… their family to understand what true danger hunts him even now.

With a deep breath Danny goes back as far as he can.The terror of fighting to his first death, the enchanting embrace of the dark, his violent resurrection in the pit. How when he surfaced some strange red-headed girl was in his Ahki’s place to pull him soaking wet to the solid wood of the dock. How Danny knew their mother had defied the Demon Head and even if he knew how to get there, Danny could never go back. How when he had done his best to shake off his disorientation it had been childs play to integrate him into the strange family that found him. Danny was good at hiding, at adapting.

Danny didn’t know how exactly but the Fentons had gotten their hands on a forged birth certificate and social security documents. He assumed through some government contract seeking their expertise on ghosts or weaponry. It was as if he had always existed in Amity Park, there was enough of a rotating population that not many remembered differently. Danyal Al Ghul son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne, twin heir to the Shadow and the Bat fully became Daniel Fenton, only son to Maddie and Jack Fenton, younger sibling of Jasmine Fenton.

Things had been great for a while! Easy even. He gained a sister in Jazz. As he got better at socializing, Jazz’s dedication to practicing with him paid off, he gained friends in Sam and Tucker. Their afternoons spent studying or hanging out at Nasty Burger. He had creative parents who knew so much about science, technology and the universe. Who would take Danny and Jazz camping so they could fish, and eat fudge-filled s’mores by the fire. School was boring but he liked going to the library and looking at their books on space.

Danny could’ve never imagined how happy life could be away from obligation and duty. Away from his Grandfather. He could live happily while keeping his weakness from eroding the League further. Danny had tried so hard to forget, forget so his guilt about him alone getting all these soft experiences wouldn’t eat him alive. How dare he friviously enjoy a normal childhood when his brother was left behind with the course sand and suffocating expectations.

Things had been great until their obsession with completing the portal infected his new home. That kind of overwhelming happiness was simply too good to be true for someone who had done the things Danny has. His parents would spend days holed up in the basement building. Grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, and maintenance to the house it all fell to the side. House keeping wasn’t nearly as interesting as trying to build a bridge to another world. Eventually Jazz dragged Danny to the library so she could teach them how to do those things on their own. Danny could never tell her he already had learned to do most chores on his own by the age of 5 and if the debit card stopped working he could trap and clean something reasonably sized in the woods for them to eat.

Danny had tried to convince himself after the portal failed to open at his parent’s big presentation things would soon return to their normal, as chaotic as that normal was. Sure they had been really upset, slipping into depression, but they always started up again. Gained their groove. They had gone on their vacation and… Then the portal turned on. Well, he turned it on and was electrocuted with the entirety of the town’s power grid. (They had done the math at some point to figure out the exact voltage but Danny had never wanted it written down, if Tucker thought it was important to know he could keep it hidden under his firewall in a secure file.)

His second death was painful. The electricity had burned its way through his body, stopping his heart, only for the ectoplasm to force it to beat once more. He was sure his heart would burst under the strain. Or the ectoplasm would rip holes in the delicate tissue as it puppeteered it into the sluggish beating he has now. How does he put into words what becoming the gateway between two realities feels like? It was… An eternity hoping for the agony lighting up his nerves to end in the seconds it took for the ectoplasm to merge with him down to his DNA. He could feel his cells splice, die, stutter, and trip but life surged and evolved. He became something new, something unknown, something rare.

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britcision · 2 months

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AND HERE WE ARE! Totally getting this out in February well done team! And this is gonna be our last chapter before a wee teeny tiny time skip and Jason’s finished core! What a beautiful day 🥰

We’re getting another two-parter too, because Danny and Jason refused to let me get to the end of this lil introductory arc without at least one more pile of abject fluff! But finally, we’re ready to begin the plot!

Once again, the link to the AO3 version is in the first chapter and the 15th chapter; you can see it in the text for the link if you wanna subscribe to be told when it updates 😁

First Chapter:

Previous Chapter:

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So That Just Happened part 1

Back in her own room on the other side of the country from Gotham, Sam Manson reclined back into giant, coffin shaped body pillow her beloved girlfriend had given her when they moved and contemplated her phone.

The brand new Wayne-chat was blowing up satisfactorily, although apparently Tim was a massive stalker too. That was probably a good thing; it meant she hadn’t actually nuked Tuck’s chances with his nerd-crush. Now they could bond over their mutual stalker tendencies.

But, did that make her revenge less effective?

It wasn’t like she was actually out to ruin his life, but she’d kinda like to leave a mark. Something that would make him think twice about letting her think he and Danny had fucking died in Gotham in her absence.

Or. Well. Gone radio silent in Gotham, which was probably actually worse because if they were dead she’d know exactly where they were.

The Wayne chat were all pretty sure Tim and Tucker were together too, and Sam’s new best friend Babs had even pulled up the feed from their living room tv somehow. Sam wasn’t exactly the tech wizard Tucker was, but… after seeing that, she disconnected her and Val’s TV from the wifi.

And settled in to remote watch Tuck get his ass kicked at Spiderheck, apparently. At least for a little while; until something else on her phone caught her attention.

It was… almost funny. While she knew she was a whole three timezones away, she’d never really felt left out before. Like maybe she should have stayed on the east coast…

Not that she regretted it, of course. She had a good job, a good school, a wonderful girlfriend who’d been so excited to get into a good school and really go to town on the business department.

(Apparently there were posters of Val’s face in the ethics classrooms. Sam refused to ask if they were golden example or dire warning.)

She was just… a long way away. Even a long portal away, and… being back with the guys, even in Gotham, made the quiet of their comfy little apartment seem lonely.

Huffing, she turned and traced her fingers through the leaves of her mimosa plant on the windowsill beside the bed. They curled gently shut at her touch, and made her smile. Just like always.

She was happy to be home. She wasn’t technically liminal enough yet that it was her haunt, but… well, for all the jokes Val made, Sam had to admit she’d put down roots. She loved her job at the greenhouses, and her internship at the botanical gardens.

She loved scaring the hell out of the dudebros in Val’s business classes who thought ethics were a waste of time. She loved sharing messages with Jazz about the boys, laughing that even three hours ahead, Tuck and Danny still couldn’t get up before them.

She was kinda considering texting Harley about Timblr too. Not like, for any particular reason; if Tim’s family weren’t gonna embarrass Tucker enough, Harley probably wouldn’t either. She’d probably think it was adorable.

Or, y’know, worrying evidence of obsession. Psych types worried about stuff like that, usually.

Sam was kinda also considering sending Harley Jazz’s number. Jazz might still be skating just on the neurosurgery side of the line, but she’d always been big into psychology. Big enough to try and triple major, and only drop to major-major-minor after the third pre-exam meltdown.

And she could use having someone else do the shrink bit on her a little more often. Although really, for that Sam should make her a professional appointment; friends didn’t ask friends to psychoanalyze their overprotective pseudo-sisters. And Jazz could use more friends.

Jazz could use a transfer to a specialty that would let her sleep once in a while, a more stable supply of fresh ecto, and about six weeks in a meditation retreat to get the accidental telepathy under control, but more friends would be good too. And less stubborn insistence on her second try for double majors.

Maybe the switch to psychiatry full time would be good for her? Or psychology. Sam was a little fuzzy on the difference, which one Jazz was currently still minoring in, and which one Harley did.

(Jazz’s current second major was neurosurgery, which Jazz insisted was totally less taxing alongside a neurology major because it was the same body part. She was the only person in her class attempting the double major though, so.)

Humming tunelessly to herself, Sam flicked back into the group chat. Babs was still sharing the feed… brows drawing in, Sam frowned at the little spider figures still fighting to the death. Now, she wasn’t as big of a gamer as she used to be, but she was pretty sure Spiderheck didn’t actually offer red berets.

Snorting a laugh, she flicked back out of the chat and opened a new one, adding both Jazz and Harley. All it needed was the perfect name… something that would grab both of their attention.

Obvious. Child’s play.

Snuggling back into her coffin pillow, Sam grinned down at her phone screen.

Danny Has A Boyfriend chat was live.

Having eight legs wasn’t exactly the same as suddenly having four new ones, or two new legs and two new arms. While the first two were definitely functioning as “hands”, being the ones to pick up and use all of the weapons, Tim had quickly learned that he could grip with any of the eight “feet” that were available.

Yeah, spinning a laser staff all the way down one side of his body and up the other was fucking cool.

He’d adjusted pretty quickly during their “practice” round, while they all got used to the web slinging and worked out how to open the boxes and use the weapons.

(Tucker had swung himself into the lava by accident, so they’d started a second round.)

Tim felt pretty much ready to go, although if he was honest with himself… his only actual complaint was that he didn’t have a camera.

Conner had asked Tuck at the start of their second round if his powers had been nerfed to make it “fair”. Tucker, sweet innocent Tucker, had managed to convey a sidelong look even looking at even without a face on their little blob bodies and said he didn’t think Conner needed a nerf.

He just needed to understand how the powers worked, and they could be incorporated into the system. Which, well, was like catnip for Conner.

At least Tucker seemed a lot less flustered about talking to him while they were both spiders, because Conner had started talking his ear off about TTK and hadn’t stopped since.

Tim was kinda considering swinging over and taking them both out, just to get the game moving. But Conner was cute when he got really into something, and being a headless little spider body did not seem to have changed that.

He spent the time practicing with the webs instead, spinning and tossing himself around the map. It was pretty similar to using a grapple, although he wasn’t exactly sure whether or not the web was coming from his own body.

If it was, it was coming from inside a foot, which wasn’t how actual spiders worked… but Tim was pretty sure that was on Spiderheck, not Tucker.

Being able to run around upside down was the biggest change for him, and pretty cool. Tim scuttled around under a couple of the higher platforms for a while, planning his strategy.

Honestly, he was pretty sure TTK was going to wind up fucking Conner over rather than making anything easier for him. You’d think that flying would be an advantage in Spiderheck, at least as far as avoiding lava or an out of bounds, but Tim knew pretty explicitly how far it took Conner to stop.

It wasn’t exactly on a dime, and in this game? The pace didn’t exactly allow for imprecision.

And they were wasting time talking about it rather than getting used to having an extra six hand-feet.

Still upside down, Tim twisted until he could see the other two spiders. Which was when he learned that… they did kinda have their faces on them. Just, instead of being in a face position, on the front of his body that he was seeing out of, it was just sorta… plastered across the body.

Like a photo skin mapped onto a flat blob.

He considered letting the other two know; if anyone walked into the room, they’d probably be able to see their little faces on the screen. If they were just standing around talking.

Also, the pictures’ mouths weren’t moving, which hadn’t been weird when Tim was listening to them talk and didn’t think they had mouths. Kinda was to look down on Conner’s smiling face and hear his voice at a mile a minute.

Tucker probably already knew, and might have done the faces on purpose? And if he hadn’t, it was gonna be pretty funny to see what happened when he noticed.

He’d gotten progressively better at actually talking to Conner the longer he wasn’t actually looking at him, and the focus being on the game had helped too. Face in the game? Probably gonna throw him again.

And it was probably time to get things actually moving, so he could enjoy that.

Humming softly to himself, Tim scuttled across to the loot crates, found himself a double ended lightsabre, and dropped down on Tucker and Conner’s heads.

“Sooooooo…” Danny clapped his hands, doing his best to make his broad grin at least look a little innocent as he floated sideways into Jason’s field of view, “not that that wasn’t adorable and dramatic and everything, super touching, buuuut…?”

He almost laughed as Jason jumped, having apparently forgotten Danny was there for a hot second, then pulled his hand back from Lady Gotham’s to glare at him. The Lady herself didn’t bother hiding her chuckle, settling back to recline once more on a cloud of smog.

“Was there something you needed, Phantom?” She asked with a dry amusement.

Danny shrugged innocently, sticking his hands in his spectral pockets. Much more dangerous than regular pockets, but he’d not been doing more than blob wrangling lately.

“Not so much what I need, just, y’know, trying to keep things on track. I dunno if you’ve got other plans for the night Jay, but we were with Frostbite for a while and if you did…” he trailed off, and Jason grimaced.

“Not what you’d call set plans, but…” Jason trailed off as well, and Danny could feel the guilt even before it tried creeping in.

Nope, not having that. He’d almost talked himself into that bullshit already tonight, none for Jason. He nodded airily, floating up to drape an arm over the larger man’s shoulder.

“All I’ve gotta do is get to bed before midnight, so I’m not rushing now that Tucker’s found himself a new ride.” Waggled eyebrows punctuated that comment with enough emphasis that Jason snickered, darker feelings pushed aside without finding purchase.

“What, you don’t wanna go watch that train wreck in person?” Jason teased with a lopsided half smile.

Danny pulled a face, both at the thought of Tucker’s goddamn disastrous attempts at flirting and… well, the possibility of running into Bruce again. Maybe Constantine.

Danny was maaaaaybe kinda avoiding the wizard since he’d started collecting the other contracts on his soul; it wasn’t like he wanted them for nefarious purposes, it was just fucking weird. He didn’t like owning people. Not even overgrown Sour Patch Kids in trench coats.

(At least Constantine was still alive though. Those unlucky souls who died still bound to Pariah damn near went through a full reboot. No memories, no personality, none of what Danny would have thought of as like, the core components of a soul.

So far nothing anyone had done had been able to help them, and Danny had a nasty feeling the final answer would be Ending them. The Observants didn’t want to, they were perfectly happy with a thrall army so long as they controlled it, but Danny was firm.

No slaves, no thralls. If the only way he could free them was through a final and permanent death… he would.

But Clockwork was still looking, and so long as the ancient of time thought there might be a way… Danny held out hope too.)

For now, he shook his head quickly, holding up both hands.

“No way man. Bruce already hates my guts, I’m gonna keep a healthy distance.”

For both their sakes, really. Jason’s mood every time Bruce had spoken to him today kinda proved he hadn’t listened to Danny’s advice and stepped up. Not that Danny had exactly expected him to; again, hated his guts.

Jason pulled a face but didn’t bother to argue; he’d probably rather not actually deal with the old man for a third time either. Instead he just shrugged, turning his attention back to Lady Gotham.

“Do you know what time it is in Gotham now, my lady?” He asked, and the really weird thing was that it didn’t actually sound weird.

Danny always felt awkward and formal whenever he tried to address a ghost by their title, and Lady Gotham was the very worst because she never bothered to hide when she was laughing at him. Which was, y’know, every time he said it.

(He wasn’t gonna just call her “Gotham” though. That would be worse, so he just sucked it up.)

On Jason’s lips, words like “my lady” just sounded right. Danny flashed back for a moment to snow in a graveyard, and Jason knelt before him quoting Shakespeare. There was something in Jason that was just made for flowery language and dramatic proclamations.

Lady Gotham clearly agreed, bestowing a fond smile upon Jason before inclining her head back for a moment, those red on black eyes glowing suddenly brighter. Looking into the living world, or right up Clockwork’s ass?

“It’s coming to ten o’clock,” she said softly, something almost like regret in her tone. The smile that she turned back to them was softer, sadder.

Danny’d feel bad about being the one to point it out, except, yeah. He’d had to. Ghosts in general didn’t exactly think about time. It was a problem for the living, so - him. And Jason.

Who didn’t seem nearly so sorry with the answer. He nodded, fingers beginning to drum against his thigh.

“Time for a few more questions, then.” That wasn’t a question, and if Danny was completely insensate or possibly locked in a sensory deprivation tank he might have warned Jason about talking to a powerful spirit like that.

It’d need to be a damn good tank for him to miss all the signs though; Jason was so in the good books. Lady Gotham just smiled and nodded, gesturing once more with her traffic cone.

“Of course. And, of course, we will have plenty of other opportunities to speak. I may spend much of my time here, but now that we have been introduced… I can also speak to you there, if you would like?”

It was a delicate question, and Danny hesitated, suddenly wondering if he should… well, elaborate again.

“Uh… yeah, sure? I’d like that?” Jason asked, clearly confused by the reticence, and that made up Danny’s mind.

“She’s not going to sound the same,” he explained quickly, giving Lady Gotham a quick smile. She smiled back, gesturing for him to continue, because none of the damn older ghosts explained shit for themselves.

Danny totally didn’t roll his eyes.

“Like, the way we talk to her in the Infinite Realms is kinda the abstract? She looks kinda human,” he added, gesturing vaguely at the Lady.

Jason’s brows furrowed for a moment, but he felt more curious than concerned.

“So… she’s an anthropomorphic personification, but not in the living world?” He asked, and Danny’s eyes nearly crossed.

He turned to Lady Gotham, hoping that this might be some weird city slang, and she laughed at him. Again.

“Yes,” she agreed with Jason instead, which absolutely did not help. “It’s easier for me to speak with you here, using eyes and ears like your own. But building and maintaining this shape in the living world is… complicated.”

“Because her real body there is the city,” Danny added, privately resolving to ask Sam what the fuck Jason was talking about later.

Honestly, Jason would probably get along real good with Mr Lancer. They both liked weird words.

At least he actually looked a little confused too now; Danny had freaked the first time Lady Gotham talked to him out in the city itself. He gave Jason a consoling pat on the shoulder.

“You’ve gotta see it to believe it, man. Just… it’s gonna be weird.” Not the most helpful, sure, but Danny was doing his best!

Jason nodded slowly, willing to table it for now, and refocused on Lady Gotham, something darker now welling in the purpose building inside him.

“So you said the Joker wasn’t from the Curse,” he said bluntly. Danny flinched, more from the lack of any aura inflection than the remnants he could feel.

Yeah, a lotta Gothamites hated the Joker specifically, but if Danny had even the faintest doubt of who’d killed Jason… the black, leaden lump of Death in Jason’s aura wiped it out.

Lady Gotham stilled too, her own smile fading as she regarded Jason. Those red and black eyes were suddenly so much older, so much sadder.

“Yes,” she agreed softly, lowering her traffic cone to rest at her hip. “Are you sure?”

‘Are you sure you want to know?’

Or ‘Are you sure you want to know now?’

Danny wouldn’t put money on which she’d intended, but it didn’t take a genius to know the answer to both. Stubborn, emotionally repressed, and self destructive as hell, bat-training only left one answer.

Jason nodded firmly now, his jaw clenching.

“Yes.”

Lady Gotham studied him for a moment longer but didn’t argue, inclining her head gently.

“Then I will be brief. While the Curse has always been part of the city, feeding on fear and despair, in recent years we have both felt… something else. I told you of the malevolence on the land?” She asked, and Jason made a soft, impatient noise.

“And that it’s where the Curse comes from, yeah. And that the Joker is different,” he prodded.

Danny made a face. He was usually very much on the side of blunt answers, and knew full well that the Lady wouldn’t actually like, break Jason for being mouthy. He was very, very used to seeing favouritism from the outside, and Jason was clearly a firm favourite.

Maybe because he was currently Gotham’s only actual part ghost child? (To be fair, Danny didn’t think that’d change much in the fullness of time; Jason was his favourite of all the bats alive or dead.)

Whatever it was, his interruption only brought a flicker of a smile to the Lady’s lips, which vanished just as quickly.

“Yes. The Curse is indeed the original manifestation of that malevolence, given form and now, purpose. But even that malevolence came from somewhere; Gotham lies on a crack between worlds, older than time. Every world in the multiverse exist along certain markers; certain weak spots. Gotham is one of them.”

“Of course it is,” Jason grumbled beside him and Danny shifted closer, brushing their shoulders together.

Personally, he figured that if Gotham was a weak point in the universe and all the bad shit just leaked through, they were probably doing pretty well for themselves. Then, he’d seen the depths of the Ghost Zone; he knew what else could be trying to leak through.

Which, obviously, meant the good luck had to end.

“When the Joker died,” Lady Gotham continued, only to be cut off by a startled “What?!” from Jason and a totally-super-dignified squawk from Danny.

“You are not gonna tell me that asshole’s a ghost!” Danny moaned, dragging his hands down his face. Honestly, if he’d missed a whole actual ghost in the city for an entire year too, he was never going to live it down.

Like any of the other ghosts had any fucking clue what it was like being half alive… or living fully inside a city spirit’s haunt. Let them visit Lady Gotham’s and see what they sensed.

“Who the hell killed the Joker?!” Jason demanded, something weirdly like panic spiking through anger. “It wasn’t fucking Bruce-”

Lady Gotham silenced them both with a pointed look, shadows growing suddenly long and dark under her stare. Then she returned her gaze to Jason, her expression sombre.

“The Joker is not a ghost, nor a halfa. Bruce Wayne resuscitated him, which may be all that kept him from becoming a manifestation himself; he was killed not only in Gotham, but by a nexus point, in rage and revenge and hatred.”

There was something dark in Lady Gotham’s eyes now, something black and burning and for half a second Danny could swear he felt that rage himself, deep in his chest.

“Something else leaked through in the short time that he was dead,” she went on, her gaze firmly locked on Jason’s and Danny couldn’t imagine just how much the older-younger halfa was feeling under its full force. “Something small, and hungry, and craving death because it was denied his - the death I believe would give it shape.”

It wasn’t enough for Jason, that much was obvious; bitterness-frustration-grief hung in the air in a cloud almost thicker than the Lady’s smogs, and this time Danny gave in to temptation.

Let his own soothing-sorrow-loss twine through, even if he didn’t exactly understand the cause of the feeling. Jason startled a little, knocked from grumbling something that hadn’t been for anyone but him, but his hand reached back for Danny’s. Squeezed tight, even as the bitterness deepened.

His eyes narrowed, he remained focused on Lady Gotham though.

“Of course. Of course he fucking brought the clown back, even after someone did the world a fucking favour,” he hissed through his teeth, then raised his voice more clearly. “So, what? No one can ever kill the Joker, or Gotham gets another curse? Who’d fucking notice at this point?”

A genuine sorrow and pain passed across Lady Gotham’s face but she schooled it, kept her own aura calm and composed… or at least in closer than they could feel. There was probably a reason she’d put space between them again.

“Not quite, but close,” she agreed softly, those red bat eyes somehow more gentle even against the black pupil. “This other entity is already here, growing each day. Every violent death in Gotham is being consumed by it, which I will admit has strengthened the truce between the Curse and myself. Neither of us wish to feed it any more than necessary.”

Danny’s brows furrowed at that and he tried to think back to everything that Frostbite had ever told him about spirits. Not the dead-people kind, but the Neverborn; entities, concepts, ideas given form. Like time, and cities.

“So… when did the Joker die?” He asked cautiously, and felt surprise jolt through Jason. Lady Gotham gave him a quick glance, and cocked her head at Jason himself.

“Not so long after Jason did. A matter of months, less than a year, though he was dead less than a few minutes.” There was something in her tone, a weight on the words that made Danny think he was on the right track… but that she didn’t want to say it.

Which. Well. That was all kinds of bad fucking news if an entity as old as Lady Gotham was wary of speaking it into being. Luckily, Danny was just a fucked up little half ghost who had absolutely no supernatural tie ins to things like belief.

And he believed in just laying all the cards on the table before he decided if he had to flip it.

“That’s really young for any kind of belief spirit,” he said bluntly, watching Lady Gotham’s eyes. Saw… just a hint of something, creasing the corners, and seriously considered reaching his aura to hers for the first time today.

It’d save so much time to just get the message through feeling, but… if she preferred words, the words had to be important, and Jason probably needed words.

Fuck, they’d all need words, because this was going to be a goddamn bat-briefing if Lady Gotham was filling them in, and Mr Emotional Repression Is My Soulmate was not going to be up to aura reads.

Chewing his lower lip, he thought through the next stage a couple times before speaking slowly, watching for any hint he was still on the right path.

“If… it’s grown fast enough that you both noticed… it’s not new?” He tried, wondering briefly if he’d retroactively doomed them all by thinking about “what else could break through” from the depths of the Zone.

Lady Gotham shook her head though, gesturing impatiently through her smoke to clear it… maybe the first sign he’d ever seen that she didn’t control it entirely.

“No. That much, we are both certain of. This entity… it is new and unformed, with no Name of its own. At the moment, all of the fear it wreaks is only feeding belief in the Curse, which is why it only has death. But there is already a will there, long before it should even have awareness. And it wants to grow.”

“Oh great, so Joker’s got a Pitty 2.0 but his is on the outside,” Jason quipped, irritation sparking through him… and Danny was kinda glad to see it, honestly. Just a little flash of the guy he’d been getting to know in all the dark.

Even Lady Gotham managed a brief smile, and didn’t actually bother refuting it; closing her eyes for a moment, she waved her hand and the clouds of smog between them solidified briefly into a model of the city. Buildings only, but with horribly empty shadows between them.

“The Joker’s death gave it an entrance, and his revival denied it his shape, his Name, and the fear he commands. But it is no longer fixated on killing the Joker - and it was, for several years. It pushed him before it had the power for anything else, driving him further, feeding poison to those around him, trying to have him killed so that it could become The Joker, the pure essence of every bloody mark the clown left on Gotham. And it very nearly succeeded,” she added softly, her gaze turning back to Jason with an almost tangible sorrow.

Something in Danny’s gut iced over, and suddenly he was really, really glad he didn’t know what she was thinking.

Bruce looked better as he rose from the table, Diana decided, watching her old friend closely. For all that he’d come with an actual reason for his doom and gloom (for a change), his attitude during the briefing was positively relaxed compared to their own discussion that followed.

He would still be worrying and fretting, she knew him too well to believe anything else, and… she knew why. While Diana had no children of her own (though she had met and heard of other versions of herself who had), she did dearly love her own proteges, and those of her friends.

She remembered Jason as the young, sweet boy who’d stumbled over every word he said to her and stared at her like she’d hung the stars. She remembered Bruce’s grief, Batman’s rage, and the shadow that hung over the Dark Knight with every step until Tim Drake took him to heel.

She knew that there was too much there, the guilt and pain and loss and grief for Bruce to see Jason objectively, and she didn’t begrudge him that. Nor did she condone it.

It only hurt both men, and while she would not give her opinion when it wasn’t wanted… well, she was aware Bruce spoke to Clark of his worries around Jason much more often than he would to her. This time though, she’d had no choice.

She knew the man well enough to know what was truly scaring him in this situation; that Jason would be taken from him again. He was at least as upset by this “Danny” boy as the thought of war with an entire realm.

It would have been cute, if he wasn’t a grown adult man who prided himself on critical thinking. Or actively forcing his son away with his own actions at every turn.

Still, there was one piece of counsel she could give. The thing he hated the most of all was a mystery. And while she also didn’t usually condone his stalking-as-a-sign-of-affection…

“Batman.”

He stopped in the doorway but didn’t look back, still as a statue. At least he was listening.

A fond smile pulling across her lips, Diana shook her head. Let the formal tones of Wonder Woman return to the voice of a friend.

“You see many dangers in the unknown. Perhaps you might reassure yourself by getting to know young Danny Fenton as a person, rather than a potential threat.”

He stayed frozen in the doorway for a moment longer, then nodded his head sharply and swept away.

Diana stifled a chuckle. Honestly, for all Constantine had come to her as if the world were about to end… all of their problems with this Infinite Realm were perfectly clear to her.

The American government had overstepped drastically with their Anti Ecto Acts and would be brought to heel.

The new ruler of the Infinite Realms had turned their head in this direction, and guided them to what must be fixed.

And young Jason Todd, while far from the only hero who had died and returned, had been chosen by this ruler to be favoured with protection, in exchange for service.

Of course, it may all blow out of control and become as dire as her dear friend already seemed to believe it was, but for all Bruce was constantly creating contingencies and backup plans, he very rarely had to use most of them.

She turned her attention to John Constantine instead, the magician seeming much less inclined to make himself scarce than usual. At least he had also calmed considerably, and was even smiling in his own crooked fashion after Bruce.

“You know he’s gonna go stalk that poor kid even more now?” He asked sardonically, pulling another cigarette from his pack but not reaching for the lighter.

Diana hesitated for a moment.

She’d meant for Bruce to talk to Danny, preferably directly. But Bruce did not like talking to new people; not without thorough research and a chance to prepare.

Then she shrugged.

“If it will keep him from disrupting our already tense situation with the Infinite Realms, better that he distract himself with more fatherly concerns,” she said simply.

Constantine snickered again, then frowned.

“Wait, fatherly concerns? For some kid his boy’s known like, a week?”

This time, Diana didn’t bother to restrain her smile, glancing down at the phone in her pocket.

“Merely a week, perhaps, but according to Wonder Girl they have already been caught at least once without their trousers.”

Which hadn’t been part of the official presentation, of course. Nor apparently whatever Bruce had already shared with Constantine, as the mage promptly nearly swallowed his unlit cigarette and began choking.

Diana gave him a carefully gauged slap to the back, sending the now soaked and crumpled smoke across the meeting table, but politely did not laugh.

Jason was pretty sure he was going to puke. Or scream. Maybe both.

It wasn’t bad enough that Bruce had refused to kill the Joker, to stop him from killing anyone else, no, he’d fucking brought him back to life. Given the fucking Joker the chance that none of his victims ever got.

None of them except Jason.

And now apparently even wanting the bastard dead was all part of some master fucking plan to make the fucking asshole even worse.

He’d wanted Bruce to be the one to avenge him from the second Tallia pulled him out of the Lazarus Pit, but when he’d come to Gotham… when his plans to carve out his turf, provoke the Joker with an old alias, set the trap had suddenly become stuffing heads in a bag…

He’d thought about it. A lot. About just hunting the fucker down, putting a bullet between his eyes, and leaving him in the Batcave deader than dead.

Had nearly done it, but no. He’d wanted… he’d wanted Bruce to choose him. To put him first, to say he loved Jason more than some moral stance, to value Tim’s life more, and Steph, and Cass, over the fucking scum who would have happily killed every last one of them with a smile on his face just to see if Bruce finally broke.

And Bruce hadn’t.

Bruce had nearly killed him.

And in and around that whole mess, he’d never gotten around to actually thinking about how his fucking daddy issues had saved the Joker’s life for… years, by now.

Jason wasn’t killing anymore. Not like, actively. Intentionally. Not because he thought Bruce was right; something, someone, had to be willing to stand up for the people of Gotham and actually stop fuckers like the Joker from killing them.

But… well, Crime Alley was his territory, and a scared enemy, a cowed enemy who’d seen their life in Jason’s hands and knew just how easily he could end it was more useful than dealing with the power vacuum, or the next million upstarts who’d think they knew better, would be better, and could take on the Red Hood themselves.

Ironically, keeping fuckers like Black Mask and Great White Shark alive and in power (at severely reduced scale) saved him time. Kept him from dealing with all those upstarts himself.

That was how Waylon had put it, back when Jason was considering adding to his bag of heads. It was… like farming. Keep them low, but keep them stable. Break anything new they went for, or anything that got on his turf.

Let them harvest some of the power hungry fucks who thought they could take a piece of the Alley.

And then Dick had noticed. And reached out. And didn’t stop until Jason gave in and reached back.

When Danny came to Gotham. Somehow, it all swung back around to Danny.

And the fact that if he actually believed what he told Bruce, he could have gone to kill the clown himself at any time since returning to the city.

And he never had. The time wasn’t right. Something came up. Something went wrong, or broke, or distracted him before he thought too hard about it.

Killing the Joker hadn’t even been in his original plans for his triumphant return. He’d just wanted to take back the Alley, prove his point to Bruce. Keep his home safe.

When had killing the Joker become such a big part of the plan? Who the fuck had gotten into his fucking head, redefined him as the last moment of his fucking life, demanded his new life be all about how the last one ended?

Eyes narrowing, he looked searchingly into Lady Gotham’s face just in time to catch her slow nod, like she’d heard every thought. Like he’d been speaking aloud.

“I could not stop it from reaching to you,” she said softly, her voice heavy with sadness, “but I could… distract. Get in the way, make its path harder. That you did not give in…”

Something soft, something proud flickered in her eyes again, and it made him want to squirm.

“You may not have consciously known that you fought yet another enemy, yet you triumphed regardless. My dear Jason…” she sighed, heavy with sorrow, and reached out a hand again as though to cup his face.

Jason found himself moving to meet her before he even thought about it. Stopped himself just before it actually got him anywhere.

He wasn’t done being angry yet. He wasn’t even sure he’d actually started. If he could ever, would ever, be angry enough for this.

There was something building in him like a tide, riding high on resentment and his spiralling thoughts. It wasn’t green tinted like the pit rage, his vision was still clear… if anything, it felt sharper, like everything had been dialled up to eleven. Like the terrible, roaring anger was seeking a target.

“I am sorry that you have been robbed of your justice in this way,” Lady Gotham said quietly and once again Jason’s focus narrowed down with her intensity, like she was the only real thing in the world, “that even your own emotions of this, your death, have been used against you. It is…”

She hesitated, actually looking to Danny for help herself for the first time. Judging from the sudden low horror Jason could feel from the other man, he might actually be under reacting.

Or the tide was still rising.

He felt like razing the whole city to the fucking ground, with his own hands, brick by brick. Or puking. Or screaming until his lungs ripped out of his chest, if only he could move.

It felt like something had reached into his brain and cranked up the contrast, made the already neon brights of the Ghost Zone brighter, the shadows darker, the very air prickling at his skin like needles with the urge to do something.

Because if he moved, did anything, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Not when every muscle ached to tear the whole universe apart.

He was almost a passenger in his own skin as something else, a different, slow boiling rage barely under control clamped him in a vice.

“So y’know we talked about not asking about how ghosts died?” Danny said slowly, his voice suddenly low and hoarse.

Jason managed a stiff nod, every muscle twanging tight with tension. It had been pretty important, pre-Ghost-Zone.

And he could put the pieces together, right from the tight hot center of that ball of rage that he was pretty sure was his own core.

“This is worse,” he said gruffly, not bothering to look over. Didn’t have to, when he could feel the face Danny was pulling through the worry-worry-fear-anger-horror still surrounding him.

He… fuck. He was a little afraid of what he might do, if there was even an ounce of pity on Danny’s face, and honestly that panicked him more than anything else. All the rage wanted was a target, and he didn’t think he’d be able to choose what it was.

Danny nodded anyway, making a conscious effort to try and reign his aura in. Like he couldn’t hear the subtext, feel it in Jason’s, or like he could and didn’t care.

It left him feeling cold, icy and alone, but still relieved under the echoing slam of rage in his veins. A little more alone in his own head. A little less watched. Judged. Not good enough.

“Like, worse than worse, dude. Ghosts will throw down and rip each other apart just for fun and no one’s actually hurt, but… you don’t fuck with somebody’s death. You just don’t. It’s the worst thing you could do to a ghost, worse than Ending them. Not even Pariah Dark…”

“Exactly,” Lady Gotham hissed, baring her teeth in something not even remotely a smile, full cheeks and lips suddenly gaunt and hollow as the teeth became fangs. It lasted barely a moment, a flicker before it faded, but it snapped Jason straight out of his fury with a sudden shock of terror.

She’d been intimidating before. Effortlessly, gracefully powerful and commanding, the kind of person people would beg to step on them without a hint of aggression. Those teeth though… just the moment of that rage, of something so powerful suddenly nothing but raw, feral danger…

It wasn’t even directed at him but it still felt like a bucket of cold water down his spine. An instant urge to duck his head, show his throat, convince this much larger predator that he wasn’t a threat.

She was immediately contrite, turning her head away as her face cast into shadow, only the red pupils still visible.

“My apologies. It is… less personal for me than it is for you, yet it seems still too close to my heart.”

Forcing himself to swallow, Jason took a couple of deep, heavy breaths. The anger was still there, kind of. He could feel it in an almost distant way, past the hammering of his heart, but it wasn’t all he was anymore.

It was just… a feeling now. One he was in control of.

The shadows were just shadows again. The green of the Zone no longer blinding.

He blew the last breath out slowly, and let the remnants of the anger go with it.

“No, uh… it’s fine. I think that helped, actually,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and suddenly embarrassed at just how tense he’d become.

Justified, apparently, from both the other ghosts’ reactions, but that didn’t mean Jason wanted to feel so out of control. How close to just… being carried away by the anger.

No matter what anyone else said, no matter what the damn Pit or Joker-monster or whatever the fuck else tried to do, Jason Todd was not going to be defined by rage.

For one thing, he’d never live it down.

Danny sagged beside him, relief as tangible as that last breath flowing out of him, despite the core of concern underneath. That was fine; Jason was still concerned too.

And maybe thinking about his stash of ecto-candies again, but he honestly didn’t feel half as drained this time. He wasn’t even scared of Lady Gotham anymore - that moment had ended as soon as it started. As soon as she’d tucked those terrifying needle-like teeth away. Now she just looked…

Proud. Proud, and fond, and so, so sad. Like Alfred had been the first time he presented Jason with his very own Robin suit for the field.

It choked something inside Jason just a little, made his throat tight and breath hitch.

“You are so much more than anyone gives you credit for, Jason Todd,” she said softly, her sclera softening briefly to a bright, sunshine yellow. Like the cape he’d drowned in as a boy flying from her rooftops, “and they all think far better of you than you believe.”

That caught him up for a moment, confusion pulling into the absolute fucking mess of emotions he was pretty sure he was projecting to all and sundry.

Then Danny sighed heavily and draped himself sideways over Jason’s shoulders like a particularly lanky and bony scarf.

“Yeah, yeah, and your ghost mom is fucking terrifying. Did not need that reminder, Ladyship,” he tossed at Lady Gotham with a cheeky wink, effectively steam rolling the tension yet again.

Jason could have kissed him, but from the angle Danny had flopped on, his options were armpit or hip, and neither appealed.

Sassy comebacks, he could handle. Reassurances that people didn’t think he was a complete sack of shit, apparently not.

The whole batfam were just perfect poster kids for mental health, alright?

The Lady herself laughed softly and inclined her head, not arguing the point.

“Of course. Still, I am sorry Jason.”

He cut her off this time, raising both hands and stopping just short of reaching for the back of his neck again, which was about where Danny’s waist was sat.

“Don’t be. I… think I needed to be knocked out of my head there. I really do feel better now,” he added, and Danny huffed a noncommittal noise and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, well. You’re allowed to be pissed about it,” Danny informed him like he wasn’t sure if Jason actually knew that.

Which, obviously, Jason absolutely wasn’t. He had a pit ghost baby to teach good habits to, and Danny still had no idea what Jason was like when he actually lost control of the anger. But he could appreciate the sentiment.

And deflect like a Robin.

“Oh, is that a royal decree?” He asked archly, and while this noise was no more coherent than the last it was decidedly more whiny and drawn out into wordless protest.

Which still ended in a very quiet “yes.”

Luckily, quiet enough that Jason could pretend he didn’t hear it.

“Anyway, I’m good. Still gonna kick this thing’s ass for messing with my head, and maybe put it in a blender, but for now I’m good. Chill vibes only for Pitty,” he added with a roll of his eyes when Danny made a confused little chirping sound.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly to herself and nodded, resettling herself to recline on her smog clouds once more.

“Indeed. You currently have more pressing concerns; as little as I enjoy the present situation, it can wait. The Curse and I can monitor this new being’s behaviour through the rogues it has affected; they are noticeably becoming more violent, while the Curse is swaying the rest towards being less. For contrast,” she added before Jason could ask.

Which… might actually explain why Riddler had tossed a broken game box at Croc and the Wayne gala rather than trying to fix it. He’d stripped most of the interesting stuff according to Tim’s report, sure, but Nygma never let a thread go.

So he wasn’t gonna be on this new bad guy’s kill list.

Nor would Waylon, and Harley had been more destructive than homicidal for years. Already making a mental list on the events he’d caught wind of in the last few weeks, Jason didn’t even realise the conversation had moved on without him until Danny stuck a wet finger in his ear.

“What the actual fuck!” Jason demanded, trying to shrug the ghost off his shoulders. And while there was deadass no weight to Danny in this form, it was frankly unfair that he just rolled with the movement like he also didn’t have bones, snickering.

“You had Resting Bat Face,” he explained with a grin, twisting upwards to look down at him in a way that actually really shouldn’t have been doable with a human spine - and Jason had grown up around Dick Grayson, who ran the limit of everything a human spine was capable of.

“He does best with a problem to solve,” Lady Gotham noted with a sly amusement. “This one, however, has no time limit as yet. If I thought you would listen, I would have insisted on telling you at a later date.”

And that was just pointed enough that Jason rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush in spite of himself. He just… liked to have all of the information. It’s not like he was Bruce.

“Yeah, well, I like to know what I’m dealing with,” he grumbled, folding his arms and scowling at Danny. Who grinned back and ruffled his hair.

“Well, either way. Not like you need to pull the spandex back on imminently, right? There’s plenty of bats around,” he offered hopefully, and Jason felt a quick pang.

Danny… really didn’t want him to have to be a vigilante. He could taste it in the hope, in the worry, in everything his king was putting off. For some reason, he seemed to think Jason had come back to life and left the masks behind.

Like he hadn’t even thought about why Jason was still in fighting shape to be his fucking knight in the first place.

He knew he’d be annoyed if it was anyone else trying to insist he stay out of the game. He’d shot at Dick more than once for suggesting he go home when he was injured; the rest knew better than to say a word.

He hadn’t even considered giving up the vigilante life when he came back from the dead… except that brief period when he’d sort of been a rogue. He’d never even been a normal crime lord, most of them were way less hands on.

If he looked at the future now, he couldn’t imagine ever giving it up. The rogues would apparently literally always be a problem; the city would always need protectors.

That thought had never made him sad before, and yet…

Was it really the first time anyone had suggested he’d done enough? He’d died, and sure Jason was back now, but Danny seemed to really, actually believe he could stop wearing the mask.

That he’d given enough, given everything, and could and should just have a peaceful life now.

It made him almost ashamed to admit that he’d never even considered the possibility.

For all Jason railed against teen heroes, he’d only stopped being one for a temporary villain arc. Which was apparently at least partially supernaturally motivated, which was fun.

It’d shut Bruce up if Jason ever dragged that out in an argument, but Bruce already thought Jason was too volatile and susceptible to being controlled. Never mind that he hadn’t actually killed the Joker and started the apocalypse or whatever, all Bruce would hear was “someone else made Jason a villain so it could happen again”.

He’d probably try and take Jason off the case of this mystic whatever that was feeding on death. Fuck that noise. Until Bruce got a face to face with Lady G, Jason probably wouldn’t even tell him the details.

(Honestly, if there was even half a chance of avoiding that subject altogether, he’d take it. Bruce got ornery about magic in his city in a way none of the Robins had ever enjoyed dealing with, and that had been back when he and Jason had a good relationship.

Now… well, Constantine had been sticking around, so hopefully he could handle that mess and Jason could just get the actual work done.)

He gave Danny his best reassuring smile anyway, rolling his eyes and reaching to try and ruffle his hair. Found that he actually couldn’t quite reach with the way Danny was twisted around him, which was kinda weird.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard Frostbite. Side effects of the forming core could be pretty much fucking anything, and til Pitty pops out I’m not even gonna do research on anything that’ll set us off.”

Which wasn’t the same as saying he wouldn’t start the case. He could arrange what he already knew, start a plan of action, and organise his next steps without doing any additional research, after all.

Something about Lady Gotham’s delicately arching eyebrow let him know that she, at least, was onto his bullshit. Lucky for Jason, Danny just accepted the words, grinning and twisting around to wrap his whole head in a hug.

And then flowed back off his shoulders like a fucking liquid before Jason could worry about having to breathe.

“That’s great! Oh, and we should set up your haunt too! That’ll help!” Danny enthused brightly, clapping his hands and doing his best impression of a totally solid human that was apparently not his default.

Maybe it was a ghost thing.

Just so long as he never did it in human form, Jason could ignore that he definitely shoulda felt a ribcage being squeezed like that…

And no, Jason absolutely wasn’t wondering about what else Danny could use that noodley flexibility for. Totally not letting Dick know either… for competitive gymnast reasons, definitely.

No one wanted to deal with that.

And then his brain fizzled to a halt as Danny’s actual words penetrated and a sliver of concern slipped in.

Because… yeah. They’d talked about haunts. It was practically the first topic on the list; what to do in someone else’s haunt, what to never ever do even near someone else’s haunt, what a haunt meant to a ghost.

It was soul-underwear again, one of the most sacred parts of a person’s soul; their truest, actual home. Fortress and power source.

Halfas had to have them too, since Danny and Frostbite had both insisted that keeping and maintaining his haunt were going to be vital to his health while his cores stabilized. As in, Frostbite told him not to leave it for long and suggested redecorating as a soothing activity.

(Danny’s was officially Amity Park, which had not escaped Jason’s notice when he was apparently being put on haunt-arrest. It might have been an older halfa thing; very few ghosts actually stayed in their haunts all the time, although Jason could see the temptation.

It also might have been something else, and Jason had this thing about secrets and surprises down the line. He’d ask later, if he couldn’t work it out himself.)

Danny called Crime Alley Jason’s haunt, and that had felt right from the first time he’d said it. Crime Alley was his, his territory, his space, his home more than anywhere else. He knew it inside and out, could feel its moods and taste the changes in the air when something went wrong.

Baby ghosts usually couldn’t claim a haunt of any size as their own, but Jason knew that the Alley belonged to him.

That was before he’d met Lady Gotham. And if she was the spirit of the whole city… maybe he’d been wrong? Maybe it was just through her that he knew it so well?

He found himself looking to her uncertainly, searching her face in case there was any trace of displeasure. Any sign she didn’t want another ghost’s haunt in… well, what was kinda her physical body.

He couldn’t see or feel anything, but when she’d already been so careful about keeping her feelings her own… no better time to ask, really.

“Yeah… about that…” this time he did scratch the back of his neck, Danny safely down beside him. Which was about when he realized that he had no clue how to word the question.

Haunts were personal, he knew that much.

Then again, Lady Gotham said she was his ghost-mom. That had to include stupid questions. Blunt it was.

“Is it weird if I have a haunt in the city? I mean, it’s obviously your city, duh, but how do I… it feels like I’m squatting in your closet,” he said finally, giving up on not being just the most awkward creature in a thousand mile radius.

Danny’s mouth opened and closed a few times, excitement fading to a confused fascination as his words sunk in.

“Y’know, that’s a really good point… except it’s more like he’s squatting in your kidneys,” he pointed out to Lady Gotham, turning to face her too.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly and took a slow drag from her traffic cone, which had almost stopped smoking.

“Ah, I forget the limitations of a halfa’s knowledge… all ghosts begin with a haunt within their parent’s, Jason. From the moment you returned to my arms I opened up the Alley for you, and it has been yours ever since.” She paused to blow out a long plume of smog, which shaped itself into a tiny row of very familiar buildings.

Jason didn’t have to see more than a couple to know what they were; he could feel it right down to his core.

“When you are older, stronger, you may desire another, although being in the mortal world is already a degree of distance, but Crime Alley will always be your first,” Lady Gotham continued as Crime Alley bloomed from the smog before them, tiny and yet more than just an image, more than just a replica; the real thing in the scope of her power.

There were no lights in tiny windows, nothing moving through the smog, and yet it was still clearly alive. No, filled with things that were alive, people and noise and even the rats.

And it was his. His beating heart.

Lady Gotham’s smile was a tender beacon in the fog, her hands coming up to caress the smoking Crime Alley and gently waft it in his direction.

“Every crumbling brick, every pothole, every shadow. It is a heavy responsibility, and one I shall share with you until you decide you no longer need my help, but it will always be yours, Jason. It would not have accepted anyone else.”

The cluster of smoggy buildings fell apart as they reached Jason and for a moment he nearly panicked trying to keep them together, but… he was suddenly washed in a wave of old, familiar scent.

Not the burned rubber and pollution of all the rest of the smogs, the constant smell of the city. This was… floral. Soft, and sweet, and chemical in the way that cheap perfumes always were because they couldn’t have afforded the good ones.

Watered down, because they could get even that so rarely that she would begin refilling the bottle with water when it was barely half empty. Catherine Todd’s favourite perfume.

It hadn’t covered the stink of cigarettes and worse coming from the very walls of their apartment; he’d only smelled it when she was holding him close. Shielding him from Willis’s rage, tucking him into bed, cuddled up on the couch to wait out the rain or sickness.

The smell of home.

It brought tears to his eyes, the pressure of the day threatening to spill over and overwhelm him again.

Intellectually, it felt like another moment that should have been terrifying. More than any show of teeth, this was her strength. Who and what she was, she could break him with a wave of her hand, a wisp of smoke, and yet…

He felt warm. Comforted. Wrapped in her smile and at peace in a way he hadn’t in… fuck it had been years.

There was something else too, a layer under the flowers that only the deepest detective-trained parts of him tried to pluck apart; it was part of the home smell, inextricable, but it didn’t make sense. Wasn’t the perfume. Just the very faintest hint of baking far away, and Catherine Todd had never been able to afford…

Oh.

Of course not. Because Catherine Todd, his mother in every possible sense of the word but one, had never met Alfred.

So, the good news: Tucker was currently in the lead for Spiderheck. Bad news: they’d finished the first set (Tim won, but he’d been two ahead from the start which was cheating), and… the game had ticked directly over into another set.

They hadn’t been planning on changing any settings, so it was fine, and Conner and Tim hadn’t noticed anything wrong.

But… Tucker was beginning to worry, just a little. He’d done video games before, with Danny and Sam; no worries, they’d taken a turn directly in pretty much every game they’d played together.

Just, y’know, he knew Danny and Sam really well. And Tim and Conner were really cool, and he understood a lot more about how the Supers worked than he ever had before? But, maybe that was why he’d kinda screwed up.

Because he wanted things to be fair, and didn’t want them to think he’d given himself extra advantages. So they were all spiders, all the same.

And he wasn’t completely sure where the meta controls were?

Danny and Sam always insisted he have a version of the controller somewhere, so they could flick to the menu (and sometimes run riot there too). Last time they did Spiderheck, he’d put the buttons on his stomach, so Danny and Sam could try and hit them for an extra level of difficulty.

But he wanted to be fair. Didn’t want extra powers. And, apparently, technopathy had sorta maybe converted that wish into him not being able to feel it while he was spidered up.

All his combat moves were fine! The break, grab, web commands were smooth and easy, just like every other time he did them. Different attacks, no worries. And, obviously, he hadn’t stood still and tried to look for the code, because they were playing Spiderheck and that was a really easy way to get wiped.

Dodging another swinging attack from Tim, he scuttled at top speed across the platform and jumped behind a box. No weapons here, and he scanned quickly for the next spawn point.

Which, normally, shoulda shown up on two levels; the normal game vision, and the white lined underlay of the code, which he could always see through from top to bottom of the level.

(This was usually an active impediment rather than an advantage in Spiderheck; it was way too hard to know what he could stand on.)

He couldn’t see one, just the platform above and the wall behind.

Maybe he should take an early death, just to give himself a little time to work this out. Just so he could stop worrying. He was 21, he’d had these powers for years, he totally knew how they worked by now.

He just, maybe, might have gotten overconfident.

Danny would never let him live it down if they all had to be rescued from Spiderheck.

And, way more importantly, Tim Drake-Wayne and his super hot boyfriend would only remember him as the loser who couldn’t even control his powers.

Nope. Absolutely not.

A loud buzzing heralded the arrival of one of the spinning laser traps, and Tucker made up his mind. Just one early death. No worries. He had a two win lead, and honestly he’d rather lose the set than admit he’d fucked up.

Scuttling “away” from Tim’s probable next attack, Tucker scurried into the path of the spinning laser trap.

And saw, at the very last second, Conner swinging in from the other side, directly into a laser.

Shit.

Sam was comfortably snuggled down into her pillows and thoroughly enjoying the chaos her new chat was creating when she finally heard the door. A little too buried to easily get up, or look particularly graceful doing it, so instead she stuck a hand straight up into the air.

“In here, love!”

And, like the angel of mercy that she was, Val only made her wait ten minutes to get out of all of her winter gear and put the kettle on before coming to save her from her fate.

“Not the fastest rescue I’ve received,” Sam teased, even as Val hauled her easily to her feet. Val grinned back and pulled her in for a quick peck.

“I wasn’t aware I was being timed. I can do better.”

“I bet you can,” Sam laughed, draping her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders. Val gave her another, deeper kiss, then drew back enough to press their foreheads together.

“So, how was Gotham? I saw Danny made the front page,” she teased back, and Sam hesitated.

In amongst all of their various plans for disaster, it hadn’t really come up that whatever they did at the party, it was sure to make the gossip rags. Front page though? That was probably an achievement.

And, given what she herself had done, really annoying.

“What, they gave the front page to him? I blatantly accused at least two CEOs and Lex Luthor of weaponizing misogyny, with citations, and Danny got the front page?” She huffed, drawing back and folding her arms, fully intent on turning away to sulk, but not remotely objecting when Val’s arms snuck around her waist and pulled her back in.

Val’s chin tucked in over her shoulder and the taller woman snickered.

“I know, right? Sadly cold hard facts just fade away in the face of a scandal.” Val sighed dramatically, then dropped a kiss on the side of Sam’s neck. “You’re on page seven. It’s mostly about your parents, but using Lex’s name got a couple other points in. Oh, and Vicki Vale did a three page piece on how Brucie Wayne specifically upholds the patriarchy. I think she quoted you.”

Sam considered that for a moment, her arms automatically coming around to cover Val’s for a brief squeeze. It wasn’t like she’d actually been planning to change anything at the gala. Mostly she’d just wanted to be heard.

It could be an interesting starting point, though. Especially since she got to pick her outfit for the next gala; her mother hadn’t even specified that it had to be a dress on the document, which was definitely a peace offering.

Cass Wayne had looked really good in that suit.

Her cheeks suddenly hot for absolutely no reason, Sam twisted in Val’s arms to kiss her again.

“I’m sorry my mom’s… the worst,” she finished lamely, wrapping her arms around Val again.

The whole fall-from-grace thing may have been seven years ago, and Val had more than moved on, but. Well. Sam didn’t exactly believe all the scars had healed.

Especially when Val stilled for a moment in her arms.

Then she chuckled, wrapping her arms a littler tighter around Sam and lifting her off her feet.

“Hey, at least she’s not actually a bigot. It’s always nicer to be hated personally than in general, y’know?” She teased, echoing something Sam was pretty sure Danny had said to her back in her Phantom-hunting days.

Sam huffed and wrapped her legs around Val’s waist too, raining kisses down on her face.

“Yeah, well, she can still shove it up her ass. You’re my date for the next gala, if you actually want to come.”

Which.

Well.

Was about when she realized that the next gala was probably going to be extra interesting, after all their shenanigans. Maybe they should have been more discrete? More careful?

Her worry must have shown on her face, because Val gave her a very gentle bounce to shake her out of it.

“Hey. Samantha Manson. I would be delighted to go to the next gala with you, and tell all the little journalists that yeah, I’m that Val,” she said firmly once Sam had refocused on her. Then she grinned. “I’ll even be on my best behaviour and not one up Danny until the second one.”

That made Sam laugh again, hugging on tight even as Val turned and easily carried her through to their little kitchenette and sat her up on one of the counters.

“Hey, did you get that autograph from Harley for me by the way? I wanna send it to my dad for his birthday,” she added, sneaking another kiss and then pulling a pair of mugs next to the steaming kettle.

Sam considered hopping off the counter. Didn’t bother, reaching behind herself instead to pull her favourite tea for the month and drop a bag into her mug.

“Yeah, a couple actually. And she said if we wanna meet Ivy she’ll let us know when they’re back on the west coast, but it won’t be any time soon.” That hadn’t been particularly surprising, but it still made Sam a little sad.

Just another reminder that they were on the outside looking in all the way over here.

Valerie stilled, coming back and resting both hands on Sam’s thighs.

“Do you miss being on the east coast?” She asked quietly, those gorgeous green eyes so large and gentle.

Sam hesitated a moment longer, then sighed and let her head thunk back against the cupboard behind her.

“Honestly, I think I just miss being closer to everyone. It’s not far for Danny with the Zone, but if you or I wanna visit anyone we have to hop on an airplane or spend weeks driving, neither of which are good for the environment. We just… get forgotten out here, stuck out of the loop.”

Val raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her face but eyes still soft with understanding.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk. I thought I’d pick up a new phone and rejoin the group chat that day, but suddenly I gotta wait nearly a week for “new secrets”,” she teased and Sam sighed, shaking her head. Not quite able to lift all the way out of her funk.

“Yeah, I know… it probably woulda been fine, Danny shouldn’t have dropped anything at all in the main chat if he didn’t want everyone to see it, I just…”

“Wanted to be more sensitive than he is,” Val finished the sentence, leaning in for another kiss. Not needing to reach up even with Sam sat on the counter. “That’s why I’m still dating you.”

It did pull a smile from Sam anyway and she draped her arms over her girlfriend’s shoulders again.

“For some reason. So, what did you think?”

Val shrugged, her hands sliding up to settle around Sam’s waist.

“About a new halfa? Probably sucks for him. Especially when he’s gotta come out as dead to his family. The Waynes aren’t exactly known for being stable,” she pointed out when Sam snickered.

Which was a fair point.

“They’re actually worse when there’s more of them,” she mused, glancing back towards the bed where she’d left her phone, “and the oldest’s a cop now.”

This time it was Val’s turn to snicker.

“Yeah, I heard. Tuck already sent me the blow by blow of you eviscerating the poor guy.”

Sam preened. Deservedly.

“Hey, you know me, I’m not gonna play nice just cuz I’ve been dragged to some social function.”

The snicker turned to a chuckle as Val leaned in, rubbing their noses together.

“And you know me, baby girl, ACAB all the way, and I still think that should extend to the Justice League. Heard half of Batman Inc also showed up, did you let them have it too?”

“You know I did,” Sam purred, locking her ankles behind Val’s back and nipping playfully at her lower lip. Val laughed, her hands creeping slowly up the small of Sam’s back.

“That’s my little leopard. Tea’s done.” And then, totally unfairly, she reached back with one hand and pulled Sam’s ankles apart, slipping free with a laugh as Sam pouted. “Hey, you’d be more upset if I let it over steep.”

“I can make more tea,” Sam grumbled, finally slipping off the counter, but a rebellious smile made it onto her face anyway. Val toasted her with the french press.

“True that, darling, but I’m not wasting the good coffee beans. Daddy asked me four times if I was sure about taking the train but honestly, he’s a state away now, it’s not worth a flight.”

Setting her teabag aside, Sam squirted in some vanilla agave syrup and took a deep breath. Gotham was fine, but no hotels could match her home tea stash. Not even the Waynes could.

“Beautiful, strong, environmentally conscious, and a Daddy’s girl. How did I land you again?” She asked innocently as Val dropped creamer into her own mug.

“By being all of those but the last one,” Val countered easily, taking a mug and holding an arm out for Sam to tuck under. “Now c’mon, if I’m going to the next gala you need to tell me allllll about a certain cutie Cassandra Wayne,” she cooed, making for their couch.

Sam’s face flushed red and she made to duck away instantly, but those damn vigilante muscles made it so hard.

“Okay, veto, you’re not allowed to do that anymore! My mom is trying to hook me up with her!” Sam did not whine. She. Protested. With dignity. Totally no idea why Val snickered, holding her coffee up and away in her other arm.

“Yeah, that’s the point. How funny would it be if Danny and I both stole a Wayne from you?” She asked with a vicious grin.

Which… did make Sam pause. Because that would be really funny. And Cass would almost certainly be down for it; she wasn’t as loud or attention seeking as any of the boys, but Sam could recognize the wicked gleam in anyones’ eyes when they enjoyed the chaos.

Then she sighed.

“No, we have to be good for the next gala. Otherwise no one’s going to listen to what I actually have to say.”

Val hummed an agreement, guiding her to sit on the plush, well loved cushions. It was an old couch, and a hand-me-down from Sam’s work, but it was just too good to pass up. They could both lie comfortably side by side on the seat, if they snuggled just a little, and the back was wide and plush enough for two throws.

“Okay. The gala after that, then. It’ll make our slow burn long distance romance all the more compelling,” she added when Sam snorted, finally releasing Sam to sink comfortably into oblivion.

Sam swatted at her and put her tea down on the table.

“You’re dreadful. I love you. We’ll ask Cass, lemme just get my phone and I’ll hook you into the group chat with her, Steph, and Babs. They’re Wayne family friends,” she added at Val’s questioning noise, “I haven’t met Babs yet, but Steph is great. You’re gonna love her.”

“Only if we’re going for some three’s company action,” Val snickered as Sam jogged to the bedroom, flipping her girlfriend off as she went.

Jason was quiet as they left the Zone. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, especially after the day he’d had and the emotional whiplash.

Danny was doing his very best not to let it bother him. He remembered the early days of being a halfa, how much he’d second-guessed himself, how much every new change and discovery had rocked his world. And he’d been a teenager, all hormones and fire and energy.

He hadn’t even been dead a month before shit got weird.

Jason was twenty-two, and had already been dead for almost seven years. Danny’d like to think he’d found ways to cope, but seven years in himself he was pretty sure he still hadn’t.

Whatever Jason had dealt with in those six and a half years was being ripped up in front of him day by day.

If there was anything he wanted, anything he needed, Danny would be there for him in a heartbeat. Before he could even have to ask, if possible. Aaaand the only thing he couldn’t do that for was if Jason needed space.

Lady Gotham had been able to open them a portal directly into Jason’s apartment; Danny preferred to aim high enough to miss walls and buildings on the way back, but it was her city. She knew exactly where everything and anything was - the portal had been in the back of Jason’s front door.

Danny totally wasn’t jealous. He could come back out almost at the same place he’d gone in, if he was quick. And he could go intangible anyway.

It was still really cool to watch the city spirit do it, the way the realms opened easily and willingly at her touch. She’d given Jason a token, a coin that had to be at least six hundred years old that showed the city’s skyline. Apparently he could use it to get in touch with her, or get back to the Zone on his own if Danny couldn’t take him.

Danny was fine with that. For sure.

The Infinite Realms were dangerous, but the token should bring him straight to Lady Gotham, in an emergency. And then Danny could follow and find her, and find Jason. It was a super reasonable backup plan.

He still found himself hovering in the doorway, unsure if Jason wanted him to stay or go while the other man shrugged out of his coat, boots, and shoulder holster that Danny had totally missed this entire time. And then walked directly into the bathroom.

Danny hovered a little closer, entirely unknowing what exactly he’d do if Jason was crying. Or screaming. Or beating a hole in the wall away from prying eyes. Or, actually using the bathroom for its intended purpose, apparently.

Because Danny forgot Jason was still in mandatory human form at all times.

He couldn’t hear anything from inside the bathroom with the door shut anyway, not even movement or the sink running. But then again, Jason’s family knew Superman personally. That probably lead to some inside jokes and really specific precautions.

Danny hovered back to the door. Stared around at the incredibly clean, well organized display of video games and weaponry on the walls, the double shelf of books.

This, he was beginning to suspect, was a third, larger, more expensive apartment. The furniture and room layouts were about the same, but he was like 80% sure the apartment they’d played MarioKart in hadn’t had as much stuff.

This one had some dishes waiting by the sink though. Given how well organized everything else was, they stuck out.

…

Five minutes. Jason was still in the bathroom.

Danny hated waiting. If he was going to stick around, he could justify it by helping out. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

———————

Part two imminent! All my love to the tag list, you’ll be following the link on this one so you don’t get both separately

Part 2:

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop p @mayoota-blog @xysidhe e @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper r @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking g @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor r @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 8 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf f @frivolous-pastel

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton dead and loving it #dfdali #dead on main ship #chapter probably 18 part 1 #so that just happened #in which there is LORE #and SPIDERHECK #and LESBIANS #feast my children feast

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castrian-amore · 6 months

Text

Bitter, had the Heart

Dead Tired(Danny Fenton x Tim Drake), Tim Drake-Centric, unfinished, the author is plotting, temporary character death

1/46 chapters | Chapter Length: 3,486 words

TWS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Graphic Depictions of corpses and mutilation, Mentions of vile smells

Chapter 1: To see or to Mistake

Tim Drake was a brilliant Detective. He was a shareholder of Wayne Enterprises. Middle child of the family really. He was working on his degree in business at Gotham U, as expected. He also excelled, as expected. Nothing could have prepared him for this, though. I’m all his years of detective work nothing was quite this gruesome, this brutal. This slow.

A horrified terror filled expression struck across two gang member’s faces. Their deceased bodies had entrails splayed over the alley and he held a rag over his nose and mouth at the smell. It wasn’t just the decay setting into the bones and souls. It smelled like rotten eggs, sulfur. Mixed with the metallic scent of iron and blood and disgust.

Nightwing landed next to him.

“Oo that’s not pretty,”the man whispered. “Damn that stinks.” Time handed over a rag to his elder brother who very gladly put it over his nose.

“You’re telling me. This is one of the more brutal and gruesome cases I’ve seen in a while…” Tim was trying to take in what he could from below. They had to have been tortured alive as they had their entrails removed, at least most of the other rogue’s in Gotham made their subject’s deaths quick, even if painful but these? This was a new breed of brutal and horrific.

Tim was frustrated. He was a fucking detective for gods sake.

“How many is this now?”Nightwing looked at his younger brother before back down at the bodies.

“8… I think we can classify this as a serial case right now,”he huffed. He pulled out a notepad writing things down.

Smell of sulfur.

Entrails spread out.

Claw marks on the walls.

Symbols written into the alleyway walls in the blood of the fallen.

Faces frozen in horror.

This was the 7th and 8th one and of course it was similar to the others. Smell of sulfur. Entrails spread out. Once they got the autopsy report back he high suspected the heart will have been removed and a bite being taken out of the kidney if there even was one.

“So Gotham has another mysterious serial killer whose signature is as gruesome and messy as the Joker’s entire existence.” Tim had been frustrated with this case since it started and he was beyond grateful for the help. A lot of the bats were in on the case at some point. Duke had been trying to do Daytime recon. Tim and Dick were keeping up with police investigation, namely Dick who claimed he was coming from Bludhaven to help with the case. Got them both the inside information.

Bruce and Damian were trying to track down anything and it had been all hands on deck to keep a watchful eye on the city. Cass and Steph were off-planet apparently dealing with something from the covert ops team of Young Justice. Barb was doing her best to play eyes as she kept an eye on the various cctv footage around the city, but Gotham was big and there was always crime to attend too.

Tim was stretched thin himself. He normally had shareholder meetings in the mornings at least once a week, sometimes twice, and after that it was to his college classes. Tim had college, patrols, the company. Fuck. Let alone the occasional charity galas and other events he had to go to not only as a wayne but as a head of the company as a whole.

Tim was running on fumes as this case was running him dry. That was another reason why Dick was in town to lessen the load on Tim. He liked college and he knew that he wan’t exactly the most social person let alone the most normal(look at his job?) but he did want to do things sometimes with his friends. Though, he was sure his ‘friends’ probably wouldn’t be around for super long. Having mundane friends outside of super hero life was hard, let alone a romantic relationship. He had tried with the other heroes. He had tried with civilians but the civilians just couldn’t understand the time necessary and the excuses he was going to have to make.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship but it just simply felt as if he had no choice but to not. Wow, he was tired if hid mind was going off on it’s own separate tangent in mind distracting him from the task at hand. Speaking of…

A small flash of one of the police’s camera’s caught him off guard. Unbeknownst to the group a man in black tech wear with white accents and a mask pulled over his nose was crouched by the body. Hands gloves and a hood up over barely visible black hair. He was taking a sample it seemed of, what was that? How did he not notice that?

There was a green viscous liquid and he just collected it, not just an incredibly small amount, but what was on the body at all. It reminded him far too much of Lazarus water for his liking, but if someone had poured gelatin in it.

“Wing,”Time stated wide-eyed at him.

“I see.”

“We have eyes on a potential suspect,”Tim called over coms.

“Do not engage, follow,”Batman’s words echoed back to him. Duh. They wanted information on the dude. The two backed into the darkness a little more as soon as the police-men turned around he was gone. Tim and Dick watched his foot catch on the ledging as he climbed onto the roof of the building pulling down his hood and looking around. Eyes covered by a pair of goggles that were a stunning and haunting green color. Then it seemed he spotted the bats even from their vantage point, and as soon as they noticed. The man took off running.

“Shit!” Tim exclaimed, moving to jump onto the roof to pursue .

“Red! No engaging!”

“I’ve been following this shit for months, I’ve never been then close to a lead Nighty!” He exclaimed moving to follow.

“Language! But, really?!?” Nightwing followed after time the two moving with ease.

“Stop!!!” He yelled at the black masked figure who merely cocked his head to the side running backwards for a moment before jumping across to the next roof doing a roll. Experienced in parkour at least as Tim and Dick followed suit. Fuck he was fast.

“We need to corner him,”Dick hissed.

“Don’t tell B…”

“Don’t tell B what?”Dick replied before Tim threw two batarangs at his target.

“Red!” Dick exclaimed as the man dropped sliding on his knees to avoid the first one but as he got up the second one hit his leg. Bullseye. The person tripped holding his leg for a moment. A small grunt of pain could be heard as he scooted away from the two of them. The way their face was covered left no idea what thoughts crossed their mind. Nightwing landed next to Red as they stared at the man backing up against the wall to the roof.

“Don’t make us hurt you anymore. Tell us what you were removing from that crime scene,”Red threatened, grabbing his bo staff off his belt and letting it unfurl. The person shook their head as they used the short wall to stand up limping heavily. They weren’t incredibly close to the ground at the moment. At minimum a solid 8 stories high.

Pretty far up Tim would say. Which made the next move shake him. The man looked at them and slowly shook his head and by the time they both realized what they were doing their hearts broke. They gave him a farewell salute with two fingers and fell backwards off the edge of the building and neither himself nor Hightwing could catch him in time. Both running desperately to the edge wide eyed with panic.

It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had committed suicide to escape them. Tim doubted it would be the last either. Fate had it out for them in that way. Fate had it out for them in a lot of ways as Tim would find out over the course of events.

Though they never heard a smack against concrete as they rushed to the side, nor a scream of terror. So when they looked into the alley way the man wasn’t there anymore. Dick and him quickly using grappling hooks to get down.

“What the…”

“Where did he—“

“Infrared?” Dick suggested they both moved to look around them. Just the coldness of the alleyways and setting mid January weather. It was freezing in this alleyway.

“Is that a bed?”Dick pointed out the small campaign at the very back of the alley. A few cardboard boxes set up as a table with a few remains set there. Messy soaked sheets sat on top a cardboard bed with a messy pillow half destroyed it seemed

“Of course it’s a bed.” voice drawing them both out from their mission. “I never thought this would be the way I finally run into Two bats. You’re in front of my sleeping spot.”

They looked up to see a young man(teenager?) he only stood about 5’3. He was bundled up with a hoodie and a black trench coat over it. A soft blue scarf wrapped around his neck, hands shoved into his pockets with piercing blue eyes and ruffled black hair being held down by the matching blue beanie. He looked cold and from the infrared sensors on him the man was abnormally cold compared to most normal humans. A metà Maybe?

He had deep tired circles under his eyes. Skin far too pale to be healthy and a guant looks to his cheeks. His clothing almost just draping off his thin frame. He looked like he was very very sick if Tim could guess.

“Sorry for intruding, then,”Dick spoke up walking in front of him. Giving him a nod that he saw it too. “Did you happen to see a man fall from what roof?”

The man shifted and looked concerned Tim’s eyes looking of his shoulders, eyes, lips. Trying to pick up any subtle mico expressions.

“I just got back from classes, man,”The man sighs rubbing his forehead. “I’m half asleep and running 3 red bulls and a pack of saltine crackers.”

“Can we ask where you’re coming from?”Dick gave a charming gentle smile.

“The library.”

“I see, well we’re looking for a man dressed in all black with goggles with bright green lenses and black hair. He was sporting tech wear. You can give the police a call if you see anything?” Tim pulled out one of Greyson’s cards after he spoke. “We’re working with Detective Greyson at the moment for any leads so you can call the precinct if you see anything.”

The man took the card tossing it over his shoulder.

“ACAB, so can I sleep now? Or are we going to be playing a fun little game of 20 questions with me being the epicenter of the bats hyperfixations.”

“Ah… no, not at all. Have good night,”Dick stated as Tim was trying not to laugh as the man grabbing him grappling them up onto the roof. It was silent as they got a few blocks away before Tim burst out laughing.

“He just…”another laugh,”YEET!” Mimicking the card being thrown over his shoulder.

“That kid is suspicious.” Dick huffed maybe a little salty his normal charms didn’t work on him.

“He’s sassy not suspicious.”

“But his body temperature was—“

“He’s probably a meta Nightwing. Don’t tell the bats that you’re a meta, remember? It’s kind of Batman’s whole reason for keeping the city the way that it is, to protect metas.”

“You’re right.”

“I know. The kid looked exhausted the only thing I picked up from him was that he was beyond annoyed that he had to wait a second longer to go to bed. It’s,”he paused to look at his wrist. “2am.” A pause. If we was a student the mostly likely place he would have been would be the library. Even if you were walking from Gotham U library or a cafe it wouldn’t have taken you two hours to get where they were.” The library and most cafes closed at 11 or midnight.

“What did you realize? You’re smile fell.”

“The university library closes at midnight.”

“Okay and?”

“And this part of town is only a 45 minute walk from the library.”

“Is he our culprit they both have black hair. Could be especially if he’s a Meta explain why he was able to get away from us so fast.”

“I doubt it, that kid looked… sickly to say the least, but he was definitively hiding something.”

“So what was he hiding that he didn’t want the bats to know?

By the time they made it back to the alleyway the mysterious kid was gone.

“Dammit!”Tim exclaimed. This case was frustrating. Everything was going wrong.

“Look we at least know one thing right?” Dick was trying to make light of the situation. “He goes to Gotham U.”

“Dick.. we’re going to find hundreds of people who fall under the broad category. Let’s search “Black hair blue eyes” into the student database and see how many we come up. Let alone the fact that black might not be his natural hair color.”

“Hood could find him…”

“No, Hood has enough on his plate with these murders finding a homeless kid is not part of the problem at hand. The dude didn’t hurt anyone.”

“But if we run into him again,”Dick stared at the quickly disassembled bed the few ratty sheets now gone. “Do you think we could get him to the hospital for some help? Meta or not his readings were… rough.”

“We can’t force people into getting help all the time. It’s one thing for rogue’s who are more than a little insane but a guy who’s sick in the alley way?” Tim shook his head with a sigh rubbing the back of his neck. “We’d be chasing after half of Gotham.”

Tim rubbed his forehead a little frustrated with the general turn of events going on right now. Why couldn’t he get a lead on this fucker. He doubted that googles person would be much help. They looked like an investigator themself but at this point it was a lead and Tim was desperate. Each murder was more gruesome than the last like they were pushing their victims and themselves every time they did it. It had to have been a beast right?

“We need to find the masked person…”

“Yeah no I agree. Whatever they pulled off the body they were looking for that. They knew it would be there.”

“Think he’s the murderer?”

“Probably not, but they seem to know more than us which is concerning in its own right.”

“Not wrong there little bird.” Dick sighed. “We should leave. Head back to the cave.”

“Best, I have too many classes in the morning.”

“You have coffee addiction, you’ll be fine.” Dick smirked as they started back towards the cave moving to write a report of what they encountered on their patrol.

“You trying to feed my coffee addiction?”

“Absolutely not, B might kill me with that one,”Dick snorted.

It wasn’t as if Tim could sleep even as they got back to the manor to crash for night after writing their reports. He remained long after Dick had gone to get some sleep. Eyes focused on the screen and then down at his drawing in front of him. A rough sketch of the new person of interest.

Those eerie glowing goggles were stained into his mind as he leaned back in his chair looking at the file they had created for him.

Name: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Height:5’3 ~

Weight: 115-130lbs~

Appearance: Black hair in black tech wear and a respirator over his mouth and glowing green lensed goggles. White motifs along the outfit with a white D symbol over the left side of the chest.

Status: Unknown

Alignment: Unknown

All these unknowns. How were they supposed to figure it out. He had to meet this person again. He had to find them. He didn’t have a choice. This person was a key in his case. He sent a text to Jason.

“Keep an eye out for a guy that roughly looks like this” He sent an attachment of the drawing he did of the rough outfit in greyscale and what he saw.

“Oh… I know that dude. The people called him Distortion.”

What?

Jason knew of him? How did?

“How?” Cue Tim’s annoyed thoughts at how Jason didn’t care to share this information with them. Any of them. “And you didn’t think a new body on the streets who has a name wasn’t something you wanted to share with the class?!?”

More little bubbles as he was typing.

“He belongs to me that’s all you need to know. He’s an associate. A valuable acquaintance.”

“Well your associate was found removing evidence from my crime scene and bolting.”

“Need to know basis, Tim.”

“Do you know his identity?”

“No.”

“Age?”

“Yes.”

“Can i have it?”

“Absolutely not. He doesn’t want to be involved with the Bats or on your radar. I’d advise deleting the file you’re creating on him. He doesn’t take well to being on record right now.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know Don’t care but he’s incredibly useful and I’d like to keep him on our side and he was very hesitant on even coming to me. He only came to me because he’s operating out of my territory.”

“At least the guy has some respect.”

“He has street smarts. Now back off Tim. You know I let you in on a lot and that’s why I’m telling you this, but him? Distortion? Let him do his thing. If he tells me anything I’ll let you know.”

“What do you get out of this?”

“An investigator.”

“You have us?”

“Not all crime is big enough to involve the bats. Not all crime I can do all the work for for myself. He helps me out locating information and in exchange I leave him the fuck alone.”

Tim stared at the texts.

More typing bubbles.

“You tell Dick, Damian, or especially Bruce about this and I will rat you out for the Yelen case.”

Tim would be silent after all…

He stared at his doodle, ripping it up. It looked like shit anyways. He rubbed his face frustrated really as he made no changes to the file. Dick didn’t have to know about what he knew. This felt wrong to him though. Not just the whole Jason apparently knowing of the guy. If Jason knew of the guy but he remained under the radar of the rest of the bats it was concerning, and even as close as he was to Jason he wouldn’t put it past that guy to keep his issues to himself.

He always thought of himself really. First and foremost. It had been that way since his return mostly. It wasn’t like he never tried. Birthdays and holidays he’d show up. Tim wasn’t going to like that he noticed the mans change in demeanor the past year had done for him. A decrease in murders Jason committed in Crime Alley.

It was subtle enough unless you were looking for it, it wouldn’t be noticed, but tim did. Tim did notice. It reminded him of that breakdown he had a while ago. The anger returning to his brother like it had been there all along slowly increasing. The pit madness returning with a full force nearly driving Jason away from everyone. Jason wouldn’t talk about why the pit madness hit him so hard again.

He wasn’t exactly a feelings guy. None of them were. Dick was the most open of the Bat siblings to openly talk about their emotions and hell Duke had the most normal of a life before it all. Even he was hesitant. They all saw the Black Canary at least once every 6 months and that was only after a begrudging agreement with Black Lightning and the rest of the justice league. Most of they, themselves, weren’t involved in the justice league.

It was also why Cass and Steph being asked to go seemed to set him off. It wasn’t his place.

“He belongs to me..” Tim whispered out the words with a slight possessive tome looking at their texts chewing on his lip a little. A small habit he picked up when he was lost in thought and alone. Usually only when he was relaxed and with family. He couldn’t let people read his microexpressions out in public.

“For a solitary man, that’s quite a possessive statement Jason,”he mumbled into the batcave before standing up and walking up the stairs to his room. Not that he got much sleep either.

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stealingyourbones · 2 years

Note

Enough DC we need Marvel crossover, now!

Fucking bet homie. I don't nearly know as much about Marvel as I do about DC but I can dish out a decent amount for that crossover as well. (I've only read the old comics, like Iron Man is Tony's bodyguard and has to plug his breastplate into a wall socket to charge it old)

- Shenanigans happen with Danny where he's forced to possess Spiderman to keep him alive. The second Danny leaves Spidey the friendly neighborhood hero will die. For the next few months Danny has to be Spiderman since he's doing this for Parker. Basically a non parasitic Superior Spider-Man situation with Danny and Peter.

- Danny punches Xavier in the face. That disgusting ass man deserves it through and through. Don't care how but that child soldier making fuck deserves to gets socked in the jaw

- Danny meeting Wolverine throughout the centuries.

- Just a conversation with Forget-Me-Not. It can completely fit with DP continuity since Danny will just not remember afterwards.

- Nightcrawler doesn't teleport through hell to use his ability but instead goes through the ghost zone. Danny sees flashes of this blue skinned guy with a strange black and yellow suit appear randomly and then vanish in the GZ.

- Danny meets Silver Surfer and tries to convince the herald to tell Galactus to not destroy earth.

- The Human Torch, Spider-Man, and Phantom would be AMAZING friends. Their dynamic would be incredible.

- Skulker has a conniption trying to figure out which mutant he should take the hide of.

- Danny meets Mr. Knight (comic, not TV Show) because he was suspected to be a Vampire.

- Steven Grant (Moon Knight) finds a mechanic to help fix the Mooncopter: Danny Fenton

- Deadpool is like a pest to Danny. He keeps seeing Danny after his dead instead of Lady Death and Danny simply wants for this insane mercenary to get revived already so he can get back to work.

- Danny isn't worthy of Mjolnir simply because it's not his realm. He IS able to lift the hammer tho because he's just ridiculously strong

- Danny is one of Tony's kids he had as a playboy. His family didn't even know about it until they all tried a genetics test.

- Steven Grant, the billionaire playboy, takes an interest to this odd kid who's been thwarting Vlad's business deals. Danny is annoyed because he doesn't need two billionaires on his case.

(I could go on a fucking rant how the Moon Knight show is a complete bastardization of the comic and that it could have been an amazing gritty and dark detective show but they missed their mark but I am so tired. They ruined my son. Mr. Knight deserved better than becoming Steven's skin suit. He's literally a completely different character. Steven isn't even in the comics as a character, he's just a reason for why Moon Knight has a fuck ton of money. For those who want to read/watch some cool as shit Moon Knight comics please go check out this channel: The Russian ComicBook Geek. My personal favorite motion comics of these are “SLEEP” and “Moon Knight In Therapy”

#danny phantom #dp x marvel #marvel comics #writing prompts #prompts #bones replies #anon

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anglers1mp · 1 year

Text

Small intercept of what I planned

Beware this has just some of my ideas based onto one tumblr post- THIS IS NOT ALL MY IDEAS!!!

• the first chapter starts out with descriptions of running but with no reason why just wanna write a running scene lollll.

((Twigs snapped under Danny’s bare feet. Scrapes and scratches dug themselves onto his skin in a manner that only The Box Ghost level attacks could. His head snapped backwards as he reared towards a thick trunk of wood. His breathing escaped him in serval huffs and groans. He didn’t have time to stop. He couldn’t stop. Something was after him…The white suits were his confirmation that tonight had gone horribly wrong. Green lights echoed and groaned against the trees, shredding the bark around Danny. Tears threatened to fall against his deep neon green eyes. His lips curled up into a small scowl-his eyes half-lidded as he hurried into the gothic city..It must’ve been hours of running for as soon as he reached an alleyway and someone saw him..Dark..Dreams.No.Nightmares raged in his mind as his eyelids grew heavy falling into his person’s arms..Strange. They feel like him. Like himself. Like a halfa…

• Straight up- Jason summons Danny to be his date to a gala just to fuck with Bruce Wayne..

((The summoning was complete- why the God of The Dead wanted pop tarts and duck candles were beyond Jason. The markings, chalk, glowed a dangerous Lazarus green as the room dropped in temperature. Jason’s breath fogged and he felt heavy compared to the concrete warehouse. Ice and small burning stars etched onto thin air as if it were paper. A swirling void of green opened up on the floor by the chalk or rather in it…

“Sooo. You want me.Me? To go on a date with you?” Danny asked faking confidence. He was The Ghost King he can handle someone asking him out. Especially this tank of a man who when walks prolly his asscheeks slap.-Ok Danny calm your ass down!!

• Just straight up..

((Bruce Wayne had known Vlad Masters was a shady man, and had even shadier things going on in his life. Like how he mysteriously gained wealth in the sun of about 3 months-his net worth was now 19 million and while that was huge didn’t quite compare to Luther’s or Bruce’s himself. And yet when he got him to talk all he ever talked about was his Godson; one Daniel Fenton. Whom Vlad was apparently obsessed with. Me boy did Vlad talk about this boy. Of course at first he sounded like he generally cared about everything the boy did like he was often there, but it started to get creepier the more Vlad talked to Bruce. Now Bruce loved completing his children around others and making himself seem small compared to the rest of them, but even he didn’t go into obsessive rants about his children over the littlest of things—Like how Vlad got Daniel a telescope for the boy and in Vlad’s eyes he loved it and then raced about how good of a kid he was and that “Daniel’s father is a Baffon and *blah blah* Daniel must see everything I do for him is to keep him safe. Even going so far as to hurt him.” Poor Vlad “I’m obsessive over an almost 17 year old child and his mother” Masters about to get kicked in the face by Brucie “ I have a batcave in my basement and am ready to throttle people” Wayne.

#Danny Fenton #Vlad Masters is a creep #DP X DC #Ideas #lolll #help me #save me from my madness #Aged up Daniel Fenton #Ghost King/Ghost prince Danny Phantom #Jason Todd x Danny Fenton #Dead on Main #Vlad acting creepily towards Danny #Weirdness #i Like writing #writing is gay #Change my mind #oh wait you cant #Fuck this shit

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aikoiya · 7 months

Note

How would Canon Danny + Dark Dan + Dani all react to Ancient Vlad?… How would Canon Vlad feel about him?… This can take place after Season 3 or after the AGIT Comic, it’s your choice! 💚🤍🖤

I mean, at first Canon Danny, Dan, & Dani would most likely, initially just write him off as another rich frootloop, especially if it's before AGIT.

So, it'd come as a huge shock to see Vlad interacting amiably, if somewhat exasperatedly, with Jack & looking at Maddie with marked suspicion. Possibly even looking down his nose at her & making snide remarks.

Canon Vlad would likely be jealous of Ancient Vlad's obvious power. Though, he'd be confused as to why he acts so differently around Jack & Maddie.

AV would also very much dislike CV, because he'd see so damn much of the man who destroyed his life in him. And CV better be careful that he doesn't learn of what all he's done; to Danny or to Dani & the rest of the clones, because there'd be hell to pay. He's honestly liable to just take the girl back home with him to his universe. He's sure Eleanor wouldn't mind a twin sister. Though, he'll have to fully stabilize her too.

AV would also call CV a dolt for thinking that he would be able to ever have Maddie & would be bewildered as to why he'd even want an ectocidal maniac like her; she'd kill him for a cornchip if she knew his secret & would happily rip into them all for the sake of her unethical & heavily bigoted idea of science. To which CV would shout that she was the love of their life. Which AV would have a damn solid chuckle at the very idea of it.

The shocking part would be the reveal that AV already had the love of his life & that both she & their son have been dead for 400 years thanks to horrible, disgusting humans just like Madeline Fenton.

CV would go absolutely silent as the very idea of being alone for such a long time makes him shudder. Just 20 had seemed like far too much already. How could this other him possibly have managed for 400 years after losing the exact thing that CV wanted most? He'd lose his absolute mind!

AV: "Trust me, boy. Your unhealthy fixation on Madeline is the farthest thing from love. Love takes self-sacrifice. Love means wanting them happy & healthy & safe & alive, but being willing to let them go for their own well-being. If you really loved her or Daniel, you'd leave them to her bumbling husband & just try to rekindle your friendships with them. Maybe set up an online dating profile. It's certainly better than being alone."

AV would also be unable to fathom why CV can't comprehend the idea that he's been so alone for so long that of course he'd jump at any chance to expand the Halfa ranks. "Perfection" doesn't matter in the face of total isolation.

---

Also, think about this. Ancient Plasmius's hair is on fire like Dan's, but has this sort of gradient that turns from coal black at the roots to magenta at the ends.

Like this:

But with more coal black at the roots that reaches a bit farther.

DP Ask AU Masterlist

#danny phantom #dp #ancient vlad au

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kinglazrus · 2 years

Text

The Punishment Fits the Crime

Chapter 1: A New Sense

Phic Phight | Next | AO3 | FFN

Prompts used are listed at the end of the fic.

Story Summary: Ghosts are naturally drawn to death. Danny, however, finds himself drawn to those who have wrongfully died. He always said he would never hurt someone who doesn't deserve it. It's not his fault that he keeps finding people who do.

Or: Danny is a vengeful spirit.

Chapter Summary: There are a lot of dead animals in Amity Park.

Word count: 4648

Chapter warnings: animal death, implied animal mutilation (non-graphic). See Ao3 for a full fic list of content warnings

—

It begins a month after the accident, with a dog on the side of the road. Danny is on his way home from Sam's place when he finds it. His walk started normally. Somewhere along the way, he took a turn off his usual route. He can't explain why. There's nothing special about the road he turns down. It goes in the opposite direction of Fenton Works and will make him a few minutes late for his new curfew. But it's a nice night and he's been late for curfew every night since his parents implemented it, so he doesn't care all that much. He lets his feet guide him, carrying him a couple of blocks further East than he needs to go, to an area he doesn't explore much except from above.

The streets turn residential, lined with proper houses with driveways and backyards bigger than Danny's living room. That's where he finds the dog, lying in the ditch. He doesn't know how to check a dog's pulse but realizes he doesn't need to. One look at it and he knows it's dead. There is no blood, at least not that Danny can see. No gaping wound or twisted limbs. The dog is small and young, and, if not for the way it's splayed out, could easily be mistaken for sleeping. But he knows that it's dead. Has a feeling.

If Danny looks closer, he can see a streak on the pavement, the only wet spot on otherwise dry ground. There's not much of it. A normal person might not have seen it at all in this dim light, but Danny is far from normal. Whoever hit the dog dragged it out from the middle of the road before driving off. They stopped. They saw what they did. And they left. There's no sign of the car that did it. The dog is cold, so it must have happened some time ago, around sunset. Despite this, Danny finds himself scouring the street, examining every vehicle within his sight. He doesn't know what he's looking for. A dented fender? A bloody license plate? The dog is too small to have left much of a mark on whatever vehicle ran it down. The thought makes his stomach turn, but there's nothing he can do about it.

The dog has a collar, but no tags. It's not a stray, and it wasn't supposed to be outside. Danny scans the street. This time of night, not too many people are up. A few houses down, however, he sees a living room light on. Danny carefully scoops the dog into his arms, holding it against his chest, and heads for the house. He knocks on the door. A minute passes before someone answers. A middle-aged man dressed in a robe, wearing reading glasses on his nose. His eyes widen when he sees Phantom floating on his doorstep. When he spots the dog in Danny's arms, his face crumples.

"Oh, dear," the man says.

"Do you know the owners?" Danny asks. "I found it on the road. Someone hit it."

"Poor thing. Yes, I do. Let me take her." The man holds out his arms.

Danny hesitates. There's no reason for it. The man seems kind enough, and he knows the owners. There's no need for Danny to waste any more time with this. And yet, he doesn't want to let go.

"She'll be alright," the man says. "I'll take care of her." He smiles at Danny, small and probably meant to be reassuring. It doesn't make Danny feel anything, except confusion, but he relents and passes the dog over.

For the rest of his walk home, Danny puzzles over the man's last reassurance. How odd for him to think Danny was worried about the dog's body. It is odd, isn't it? Danny is a ghost. He's indeed part human, but the man isn't aware of that. He should know better. When it comes to the dead, Danny cares more about their spirits than the bodies they leave behind.

—

It happens again a couple of months later. After a rough day of outrunning Skulker—missing a math test because of it—Danny takes to the skies to clear his head the first chance he gets. That chance, unfortunately, doesn't come until after sunset, but the sky is clear and the stars are out, so it's worth it. He flies away from the city, out to the countryside where the light pollution won't impede his view as much. He veers off from the highway and settles over an open field, ready for a good hour of stargazing to help take his mind off things. Until something makes him look down instead of up.

It happens suddenly. One second, Danny is tracing Orion's path across the sky, and the next his head has turned toward the ground. Lights far below him catch his eye. They move fast, at first, but quickly slow down and turn, heading back the way they came. After a few seconds, they stop and stay in place. Abandoning the stars, Danny flips onto his stomach and drifts down to the ground. As he gets closer, he can make out the sources of the light. A pair of quads that someone had been driving around the field. They're parked now; their headlights shine on a spot in the dirt.

Danny isn't close enough for the drivers to have noticed him, but he can hear them just fine thanks to his improved senses.

"Dude, you scared it to death." The voice is young. A teenager, perhaps. Probably a pair of them. Danny supposes they must live nearby, to be out tearing through a field at this hour.

"Told you I could," the other driver says. "My brother used to do it when snowmobiling. You get them running fast enough and like, their heart just gives out or something. Crazy."

"Yeah, but... that's kind of mean."

"It's just a rabbit. Who cares?" The second driver gets back onto his quad and starts driving. The other one, who spoke first, lingers for a few seconds before he follows. Danny waits until they're a good distance away before getting close enough to see what they were talking about. A rabbit, dead, in the middle of the field. It lays a few inches from a set of quad tracks. Danny might not be a straight-A student, but he can piece together what happened fairly easily. One of the riders chased the rabbit with his quad until the poor thing had a heart attack. He killed it for no good reason.

Something sparks in Danny's gut. He turns his head toward the quads. They're still tearing around the field, maybe chasing another rabbit. Danny spares a glance up at the stars, then back toward the teenagers. It would seem that his evening plans have changed. Tonight is a good night for haunting.

—

"Did you guys see that article this morning?" Tucker asks first thing at school the next day.

Danny glances away from his locker long enough to say: "Hello, good morning, it's nice to see you, too." He quickly goes back to digging through his things, searching for all the late assignments he needs to hand in that day. Who would have thought that ghost hunting would take up so much of his time? His parents would be proud if they knew.

"Now, when you say article..." Sam trails off.

"Okay, fine. It was a forum post—on that website that I sent you guys last week. But it was referenced in an article on the Ghost Gazette this morning," Tucker says.

"I don't think that's a reputable source," Danny says. It's an online zine, from what he recalls, and it's existed long before ghosts actually came to Amity. Much like his parents and their opinions on ghosts, the GG gets a lot of things wrong.

"I told you I was keeping track of all ghost-related news in and around the city. I think it could help us when it comes to ghost hunting if we can see where ghosts are attacking the most and how far outside the city they go."

Sam grabs Tucker's shoulders and turns him to face her, looking deep into his eyes. "And we are very proud of you for taking some initiative. Good job." She pats his head.

"Oh, shut up. But I think ghost activity might actually be moving away from Amity Park." Tucker pulls up the forum post on his PDA and holds it out for Sam to read.

"This isn't much evidence," Sam says.

"What is it?" Finally done rearranging his textbooks, Danny pulls away from his locker and shuts the door, giving Tucker his full attention.

"A couple of teens encountered a ghost last week way outside the city. They were out quadding when it started following them. Chased them all the way home, apparently."

Danny fights back a smile. "That doesn't sound so bad."

"Not to mention, Amity Park can't be the only place with ghosts. We might have a stable portal here, but natural portals can open up anywhere. Once you get news of ghosts like Technus or Skulker terrorizing the next town over, then we can worry. For now, I think we're in the clear. Keep up the good work, though!" Sam beams at Tucker, who grumbles under his breath.

"This is so patronizing."

Danny is about to offer his own teasing comment when something smacks the back of his head. If he saw the hit coming, he would have dodged. He can do that now. He couldn't before, his reflexes too slow and his situational awareness at a minimum. Now, though, after a few good months as a ghost hunter, Danny's skills have improved in one or two areas. Unfortunately, none of those areas include magically knowing when Dash Baxter is about to pass him in the hall from behind.

The smack rattles Danny's brain and sends him stumbling. The stack of late assignments slips from his arms. The papers drop to the floor and scatter across the hall, sliding over the smooth tile. It's almost impressive how far away they end up.

"Someone's moody," Sam says, glaring at Dash.

"He's always moody." Danny drops to his knees and starts gathering the pages back up.

"There's a big game against Elmerton next week," Tucker says.

Danny and Sam stare at Tucker.

"My locker is by the band room."

He seems to think this explains everything. Danny and Sam keep staring.

"The band is playing the game this week. They've been talking about it. I hear things."

"Tucker, your social status can only go so low. Don't push it," Sam teases.

"Oh, shut up! You wish you could play an instrument."

"I can. Violin. It can be nice and dreary to play a piece in the middle of the night."

"I want to play an instrument," Danny mutters.

"You'd break it," Sam and Tucker say at the same time.

Danny pins them both with an offended look, but he can't deny it. Despite having his powers for months, he still drops things on accident all the time. If anyone gave him a trombone, a clarinet, or anything like that, he would break it in a day. Maybe he could learn the drums. The image of a drumstick flying from Danny's hand mid solo and hitting someone in the face quickly dashes that thought.

Piano, maybe? Nothing to fling or drop there.

Danny gathers up the last of his homework and straightens the stack. A few sheets are still out of order, but he can fix that once they get to a classroom. For now, he glares at Dash across the hall.

"Maybe I could break something. As a treat." He and Tucker exchange wicked grins. Danny's palm shines green, the light reflecting off Tucker's glasses. He points a finger over his stack of papers at Dash's back.

"Danny, don't!" Sam smacks his hand down.

"Oh, come on," Danny whines. "Let me singe his jacket. Just a little."

"Danny, we've talked about this before. You have power now."

Danny rolls his eyes as Sam slips into lecture mode. He could just walk away, but that might make her angrier. Better to bear with it until she's done and get revenge on Dash later when it's only Danny and Tucker around.

"I know you don't like to hear it but having the kind of strength you do, you can't go around using it for petty revenge. It's not right."

Danny shoots her a lopsided smile. "What's wrong with a little petty revenge?" His grin widens when Sam glares.

She looks ready to keep berating him but must see that Danny won't drop the subject so easily. "Just don't stoop down to his level, okay? You're better than that."

"No worries, Sam. I wouldn't hurt someone who doesn't deserve it."

—

Danny pauses at the mouth of an alley. He doesn't quite mean to, but it happens. Just as it did with the dog, and the rabbit, and the few other animals he has stumbled across since then. Somehow, Danny has come into the habit of stopping against his will; he already knows what he's going to find before taking a step off the sidewalk. Sam and Tucker don't realize that he has stopped right away, going a few paces ahead before they notice he isn't following.

"Hey, Danny," Tucker says. "Something wrong?"

"Probably," Danny replies. What will it be this time? A rat someone stepped on? A bug that got squished? Danny hasn't felt a pull toward one of those yet, but bugs get killed all the time. Danny found a bird just last week with a BB gun pellet in its chest. It was a small thing, too. Not even the kind of bird that's known to be a pest. It makes him smile thinking about the way the man who shot it shrieked when Danny pelted him with harmless ectoblasts. Semi-harmless. He might have had a couple minor burns by the time Danny was through with him.

"How wrong? Because the movie starts in ten minutes," Tucker says.

"Tucker! But yeah, he's right. Is it a ghost?" Sam says.

"Sort of but also no. This will only take a second." Danny starts down the alley. After a moment's pause, he hears Sam and Tucker following him. There's a lump at the end of the alley, where the cracked pavement gives way to a dusty back lane. Too small for the average dog. Much too big for a rat or anything similar. Cat, then, Danny guesses. He hasn't felt the pull for a cat, yet. Its silhouette is odd, however. As far as he's aware, most cats don't have rectangular shapes jutting out of their backs.

A lump forms in Danny's throat. When they get close enough to see what it is, Sam gasps. An orange cat with a screwdriver sticking out of it.

"Oh my God," Sam says. "What sick fucking—" She cuts herself off and turns away, a hand pressed over her mouth.

Tucker stops at Danny's shoulder and grimaces. "Shit. That sucks. I hope that cat didn't belong to anyone."

"Tucker!" Sam keeps her back to them as she shouts.

"I mean, it's still sad if it's a stray! Obviously, it's sad. But it's sadder if some kid is missing a pet because of this. Should we... I don't know, do you call someone for this? No offence but it's a cat. It's not exactly a human body.

Danny, out of habit, scans the alley and the back lane, looking for the person who did this. They're long gone, however. Nothing more than a few dusty prints left behind. There's nothing for them to do.

"We could bury it," Sam says.

"We could bury it," Danny repeats. That is a thing they are capable of, yes.

They end up missing the movie. Danny pulls the screwdriver out, grimacing at the sight of sticky blood on the metal. Dropping it in the alley doesn't feel right, so he tucks it into his hoodie pocket to figure something out later. Sam sacrifices her sweater to wrap the cat in something warm. Tucker gives her a funny look for it, but he doesn't say anything. It bothers Sam enough for her to reply anyway.

"It doesn't matter that it can't feel. It deserves some kindness."

Kindness won't bring it back, Danny thinks. Then again, nothing he wants to do will bring it back, either.

They take the cat to Sam's house. She has a large garden with plenty of space. Since it's Sam's, they don't have to worry about her mother's gardener stumbling across the body. Sam gets a shoebox to put the cat in and they find a place to bury it.

"Under the roses?" Tucker suggests.

"What about there?" Danny points to a plant with long leaves and orange flowers. "It matches the fur."

Sam shoots him a grateful look. Neither of the boys understands her at this moment, but they'll do what she wants because they love her. Danny and Tucker dig a hole between the plants while Sam arranges the cat in the box, still wrapped in her sweater. They lower it down and stare at the box for a few seconds.

"How did you know it was there?" Sam asks.

Danny shrugs. "I don't know. Could be a dead person thing."

"Technically, I think this makes it a dead animal thing," Tucker says.

Sam tilts her head. "This has happened before?"

"Yeah." Danny nods. "I thought it was a coincidence at first, but not anymore."

After a few more seconds of silence, Sam pushes the pile of dirt over the box and together all three of them smooth the patch out.

"Come on," Danny says with a hand on Sam's shoulder. "There's a later show we could go to. Might help you take your mind off of this."

"I just can't believe it. Who would do something like that?" Sam shakes beneath Danny's hand.

Danny and Tucker share a glance over her head. Sam isn't much of a crier. And, as teenage boys, neither of them is well-versed in what to do when confronted with a crying girl. Danny, at least, has some experience with his sister, but she doesn't cry much either. She's more the bottle it up and pretend everything is fine type, which is so ironic. In the end, they wrap their arms around Sam and hold her while tears stream down her face. A second set of sniffles joins Sam. When Danny pulls his head back, he sees Tucker wiping his eyes.

"Okay, so I care a little bit," Tucker says.

They stay like that for a while, until Sam and Tucker can dry their eyes, and go to the late show. Danny spends the walk trailing a pace behind them, lost in thought. While Sam and Tucker cried, he didn't feel that same sorrow. He thinks of the dog, of the man he gave it to. He thinks of the expression the man wore, so similar to the ones Sam and Tucker wear now. Something Danny can only describe as sorry. Sorry and sad.

How odd is it, then, that every time this happens, Danny only feels angry?

—

As soon as the credits start rolling, Danny pulls out his phone. It was buzzing the whole movie. When he turns on the screen, he is met with a wall of texts.

"Shit." He missed curfew by two hours, the whole length of the movie. Danny hadn't even thought of checking the time, more focused on distracting Sam. Scrolling to the start, he skims the messages. A reminder from Jazz was sent ten minutes before curfew, around the time they got to the theatre. Another reminder two minutes after. A warning message from his mom that he will be grounded if he's late again. Another text from Jazz. A text from his dad that basically says the same thing as his mom's, but with a smiley face at the end of it that feels oddly threatening even though Danny knows it's not. The most recent text is—surprise, surprise—from Jazz and is only a few minutes old.

From: Free Therapy | 12:58 p.m. Danny are you okay? At least text me so I know you're fine.

Danny is about to text back when the typing bubble pops up under her name. He waits, watching the bubble come and go. Two minutes pass before she finally composes her message and hits send.

From: Free Therapy | 1:07 p.m. You know you can tell me anything, right? You don't have to act out like this

Danny's lip curls. He tucks his phone away without writing anything back.

"Sam's coming over to my place tonight. You gonna join us?" Tucker asks.

Danny slumps down in his seat, tipping his head back. Most of the other moviegoers have left the theatre by then. Out of the corner of his eye, Danny spots an employee waiting with a broom and dustpan in hand. He stands up and stretches, offering the worker an apologetic smile.

"I wish, but I forgot to text my parents that I'd be late. I think they would kill me if I stayed out. I should probably just get home. Sorry, Sam." Danny tacks on the apology. She looks better than she did, but Sam has always been an animal lover. She doesn't even like the idea of dissecting dead frogs in biology class. He can't imagine how hard this was for her.

"I'm fine," Sam says. "Text us if your parents kill you, so we know you won't be at school on Monday."

"Rude."

They part ways outside the theatre. Danny rocks back on his heels, watching Sam and Tucker walk away. Only once they're out of view does he set off for home. His phone has buzzed a couple more times since the movie ended but he hasn't bothered checking. He's willing to bet a month's allowance that it's Jazz pestering him about how much of a troubled teen he's becoming. She's always had a hard time keeping her nose out of Danny's business. Even their parents aren't as worried about Danny's recent "attitude changes" as she is, something Danny is thankful for. Hiding his secret is hard enough with a nosy sister. Nosy parents would make it ten times worse.

At the last intersection before his street, Danny stops. He can already see the bright lights of the Fenton Works sign glowing in the distance, traces of neon orange and green spilling into the street. One more block until he's home. Danny's shoes scrape against the concrete as he makes his turn. As he heads further down the street, the glow of Fenton Works fades behind him. He follows the regular route that he takes to school for three minutes, making it a quarter of the way to Casper High before he stops at a side road. It's rarely travelled now except by the occasional pedestrian, of the homeless or vandal variety.

One too many ghost fights in the area have left the pavement riddled with potholes and impossible to travel by car unless you happen to have a GAV at your disposal. The city deals with so much ghost-related damage that it can't afford to keep patching up this one dead-end road anyway, so it has been left unattended. Danny only feels a little guilty about that. He won't lie and say he hasn't intentionally steered a few of his foes into this area before. For the first twenty yards, the road is lined by empty lots on either side. It's easier to fight when there's less collateral damage to worry about. Besides, the area was abandoned long before ghosts arrived. They just made it worse.

Danny ignores the big box store at the end of the road—some chain that tried to make it in Amity Park but ultimately failed. Instead, he focuses on the gathered silhouettes that stand out against the distant white walls. The sounds of laughter and clinking bottles drift toward him. Danny takes a step forward, kicking a loose stone out of his path. It skips across the pavement, the skittering noise drawing the group's attention.

"Hey!" someone calls from the throng. Danny waits until they all notice him, unfolding from their tightly gathered pack. He makes out three figures of varying builds, with a few common factors. They're all taller than him, and most of them have arms thicker than Danny's thigh.

One of them grabs something from their pocket. An instant later, a light shines, pointed straight at Danny. From this distance, the light from a flashlight phone doesn't even touch Danny's sneakers. But it does wonders to illuminate the thugs that have caught his attention. The brown of their letterman jackets stands out in particular. So, Danny has run across a gaggle of Elmerton punks. Not surprising, considering the football game tomorrow. It's an Elmerton High tradition to prank Casper the night before a big game, or so Danny's upperclassmen say. Except these boys are a long way from school. Danny doesn't like it.

"Just some kid," another of the Elmerites says. There's a round of snickers. One of them tips their head back. The starlight glances off the neck of a beer bottle. After that last comment, they decide Danny isn't worth their attention and return to their huddle. Danny decides that's the perfect time to find out why exactly he's here.

He ghosts over the pavement, barely making a sound as he crosses the distance between them. He steps up to the nearest gap between their bodies, still unnoticed, and stares at what called him here. Ravens, four of them, lying in the dirt. Wings bent. Necks broken. Plucked feathers litter the ground. Someone drops their beer bottle. It cracks on a raven's beak. Someone else takes a step forward, right onto the talons of one of the dead birds. Danny twitches at the crunching sound.

Shoving his way into the middle of the group, Danny kicks the leg standing on the raven's foot.

"Holy shit!" Shouts ring out as the boys jump back, away from Danny. He sees their expressions twist from shocked to incredulous as they take in Danny's size. The boy Danny kicked leans down and sneers. "What's your problem, kid?"

Shit Boots, Danny decides to call him, on account of the fact that his boots are shit.

"Geez, will you look at his fuckin' eyes? Looks like my cat." The boy beside Shit Boots—hereby dubbed Flashlight—sticks his phone in Danny's face. Danny has to blink a couple of times at first, but his eyes adjust quickly. One of the benefits of ghost biology. "Creepy."

"Oh, look." Shit Boots grabs the front of Danny's hoodie and pulls it out, showing his friends the Casper High logo. "He's a raven, too."

"Maybe we should pluck his wings, too," a third boy says.

Danny faces the newly dubbed Big Mouth—who actually has a small, pinched mouth, but the name fits in its own way—and smiles. "So, you did this. Right? That's what you're saying right now?"

Big Mouth guffaws. Danny has never liked that word, but it perfectly describes the deep laugh that bursts from the boy, boisterous and dumb. He didn't know a laugh could reveal the intelligence of its owner, but that is what's happening now. A big dumb laugh for a big dumb boy and his big dumb mouth. Should have kept it shut.

"So what?"

He really should have kept it shut.

Danny doesn't know when his hand drifted to his hoodie pocket, but now that it's there, his fingers close around the handle of the screwdriver.

"That means you deserve it."

—

Prompts used:

Submitted by @faedemon / @moipale: Ghosts are naturally drawn to death. When people die in Amity Park, Danny keeps finding the bodies. (PR263)

#phic phight #phic phight 2022 #unluckyalis #danny phantom #phicc #phanfic #danny phantom fanfiction #tumblroneshots #danny fenton #animal death #implied animal mutilation #punishment fits the crime #danny is a vengeful spirit

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

Text

Part 2 baby, I'll put these up on my ao3 soon as well so they're in one place together

-------

"Dad... you're dead."

Jack laughed. He probably shouldn't have, Danny seemed to be very genuine in his assessment, and Jack recognised that he should probably take this more seriously. But still, dead?? It was laughable.

"Come on Danny be serious." Danny's face remained stoic, "I'm not dead, I'm right here."

"You're a ghost, dad." Danny's lips were pressed tight, his entire body tense. "You died."

Jack was feeling a little ill at this point, was Danny okay? Was there a ghost messing with his head? He leaned toward Danny and grabbed his hand, it was cold, Danny's hands were always cold.

"Listen to me son, you're not talking sense, there's probably a ghost somewhere tha-"

Danny stood up fast, impossibly fast, his chair skidded behind him and toppled over.

"No! Dad can you just- how did you get to bed last night?" He asked.

Jack hadn't been expecting the question, he'd gone to bed... the usual way right? Like he always did, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got into his pyjamas, kissed his wife goodnight, although for some reason the details felt a little fuzzy.

But before he could answer Danny continued.

"When did we leave the party?"

Party? Jack's brow furrowed, oh the party! It was his 50th, how could he forget his own party, had he had that much to drink?

Oh, oh of course. He'd gotten drunk and done something stupid, said something upsetting. That's why everyone was mad at him, that's why last night was foggy.

Danny kept going, he sounded frustrated, angry, but his voice cracked a little. He was upset, oh boy Jack must have done something truly awful.

"What happened after the toast?"

The toast... He had just blown out the candles on the enormous cake Vlad had bought for him, ah that's right, Vlad had been there! He'd hired the venue, planned the whole party, it had been a surprise.

He had handed him a drink...

Danny asked another question, Jack knew it was the last, it felt heavy and final, it didn't even sound like a question.

"What's the date today."

Jack knew the date, of course he knew the date, it was the day after his birthday why wouldn't he know? He'd never been particularly good with dates but not even he could forget his own birthdate.

He glanced over to the calendar on the wall, just in case, he had a sneaking suspicion this was some kind of a trick question.

Jazz was the one to mark off the days, she used it to keep track of her assignments and her tutoring sessions. Each day would be marked with a tidy little line, not an X because they had 'a negative association with failure' or... something. He didn't really understand a lot of Jazz's ideas.

The days were marked off up to June the 18th... the 18th, it should have been the 10th. His birthday was yesterday, on the 9th, today should be the 10th.

How could he have missed a whole week? Maybe this was a joke, a way to get back at him for getting drunk and embarrassing everyone.

But this... didn't feel like a joke.

Maddie's sobs hadn't felt like a joke, Jazz's silence hadn't felt like a joke.

Danny's eyes gouged into him. Danny had always been an awkward kid, he took after Jack in that way, he was shy when he was young, always had difficulty maintaining eye contact. He had no such difficulty right now. They were so bright, had they always been so bright?

It was unsettling.

Why couldn't Jack remember what happened after the toast...

The drink had tasted strange, bitter. He never particularly liked champagne, he assumed that it was normal. Vlad had been smiling, his teeth were sharp... his eyes...

Danny's hands were clasped together tightly, his knuckles bumping against his lower lip as they shook. His gaze had shifted from Jack's face to the gravy-stained tablecloth.

"You're dead. I'm sorry, I know this is hard, I know you still feel like everything is the same but it isn't. You... you're a ghost, dad. Not the kind you're used to, you're just a haunting spirit right now, nobody can see you, nobody can hear you. You can't interact with anything, not yet."

Danny dropped his hands away from his face and looked at him sadly. Jack felt as though there was more to his expression, but he'd never been particularly good at reading people. Vlad had always been better at that sort of thing, it often felt like Vlad could speak a whole other language Jack simply couldn't understand.

Vlad... something was tickling the back of his mind but he couldn't quite grasp it, like a word on the tip of his tongue.

Vlad had given him a drink. Vlad had smiled. It looked like a real smile, but Jack felt like... there had been something more to it, Jack had never been good at reading people... Vlad had smiled, his teeth were sharp, his eyes... red, they were red.

The champagne was bitter. He could almost still taste it.

Jack jumped to his feet, startling Danny as he balled his hands into fists.

"Vlad." he growled, Danny breathed a sad sigh.

"Yeah, it was Vlad, he-"

"He was overshadowed by a ghost!" Jack roared, "It's still got him doesn't it? Mads is out there looking for-"

"No! Fuck, dad- SIT. DOWN."

Jack sat. Without thought or question. Danny's command was loud, not deafening but loud in a different way, like he'd heard it through not just his ears but his entire body. It reminded him a little of the concerts he and Maddie used to frequent back in their college days, where the music was so loud it vibrated through them, head to toe.

It took him a moment to realise he was shaking, Jack always considered himself fearless, and that was generally true, so true that he almost didn't recognise the feeling as it swept coldly over him.

Danny closed his eyes and rubbed at them in frustration, Jack was almost certain he caught a flash of vibrant green beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry I... I didn't want to use that- I didn't mean," he sighed heavily. "You just never listen."

He was listening now, if not simply because he felt too shaken to do anything else. His thoughts rattled around trying to piece themselves together, something within him was screaming like he'd just touched a hot surface or a live wire. Danger danger danger danger.

"Vlad wasn't being overshadowed," said Danny, leaning against the kitchen bench, his body almost sagging with exhaustion. "It's... a lot more complicated than that."

"I can't be a ghost." Jack muttered, indignant, "They're monsters, they don't even look human. They don't wake up and hug their wives, they don't want to sit down and eat breakfast with their daughters."

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny's voice was quiet, it had none of that fierce intensity like before. What was that? It wasn't normal, it definitely wasn't human. Jack glared up at him as a hot flush of rage washed over him.

"How do I know you aren't the ghost. That you haven't done... something to my family, to make them think I'm dead!" Jack growled.

He wanted to stand up, but under Danny's icy stare he felt locked into his seat. His expression was mostly blank, but Jack could see a twitch in his brow and tilt to his lips. He could see it, but he couldn't read it. Ghosts were easier to read than this, ghosts weren't usually very subtle.

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny repeated, his voice was so quiet now, tentative and fragile.

He walked over to the sink, Jack wanted to get up, wanted to keep his eyes on Danny and the ghost that might be controlling him, but he couldn't seem to make his legs work. The command still rang in his ears. Sit. Down.

"We aren't going to get anywhere like this." Danny filled up a glass of water and placed it in front of Jack. "Pick it up."

It wasn't a command, Danny's expression had softened once more.

"Please."

Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he did as requested. He could feel the cold glass in his hand, the condensation on his fingers, but as he tried to lift it... the glass remained as it was. His hands simply slipping over it.

He tried again, and again, it wasn't as though it was slippery, or heavy, or even that he couldn't grip it. The glass felt normal, his hands felt normal, the glass just wouldn't... move.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he grabbed the glass and squeezed with all his strength, it didn't break. The water didn't even ripple.

"This is a trick..." said Jack. "It's just a trick..."

Red eyes and a bitter drink, people stood around him, faces blurred. He was falling, someone screamed.

Danny started rooting around in a nearby drawer, he pulled out a ragged newspaper cutout. The ink had run in some spots, he placed it down in front of Jack.

It was an obituary. It was his obituary. Tear stained and rough around the edges, torn from the rest of the paper instead of cut, he skimmed over it, almost unable to take it in.

Jack Jonathan Fenton... age 50... survived by his wife Maddie and two children Danny and Jazz...

There was a list of his degrees, complete and incomplete, engineering, physics, mathematics, it listed the names of his high school and university, his reputation as a local ghost hunter, a blurb about his dedication to his work and his love for his family. Jazz had written it, he could tell. She was so good with words.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, please." Danny's voice cracked, his eyes were bright with tears as he righted the knocked over chair and sat back down across from Jack, gripping his hand tightly.

Vlad leaning over him, Vlad gripping his hand, he was smiling, his teeth were sharp. Glass smashed, he'd dropped the drink. It was bitter.

He could almost still taste it.

"No..."

Maddie running past him in the lab, like he wasn't even there, crying. Jazz at the breakfast table, not seeing not hearing, eyes red and puffy. They hadn't looked at him, not once had they looked at him. They couldn't see him, they really couldn't see him.

But Danny could.

"If... I'm a ghost," the words tasted foul and heavy on his tongue, "and you aren't... why can you see me?"

Danny sighed, still holding tight to Jack's hand.

"It's complicated." he said, staring down at the table.

"Vlad, he did this. I'm..." Jack whispered. "But his eyes were... he was overshadowed. It was a ghost that-."

"He wasn't overshadowed." Danny kept his gaze averted, his expression was hard and cold. "It was the accident with the proto-portal, it changed him. He-"

Danny choked up, tears were slipping from his eyes, he gasped a few unsteady breaths.

"He blamed you, he blamed you and wanted to kill you, he's been trying since the attack at the reunion. I tried to protect you dad I tried I tried I'm sorry, I didn't know about the poison until it was too late I'm sorry, I couldn't get there in time I couldn't-"

Danny's sobs shook his whole body, he buried his head in his arms, shaking hands still clasped around Jack's.

Red eyes, sharp teeth, the reunion...

"The Wisconsin Ghost," how had he not seen it? "He's the Wisconsin Ghost."

Then another thought struck him. He looked at his son like he'd never seen him before, sobbing loudly, painfully, his body wracked with spasms as he choked on every breath. He had been trying to protect him, all this time he had known and was protecting him, alone.

When Jack had been told to sit, compelled to sit, unable to move and paralysed with terror, had he imagined the glint of green in his son's eyes? He knew a ghost with green eyes, who could incapacitate someone with a single terrifying scream, who was mortal enemies with the Wisconsin Ghost, who claimed to be a protector, who looked just like a kid.

Danny had been in the lab that day, when the portal turned itself on.

Had the portal turned itself on?

Jack stood, his legs finally acting of his own accord once more, and he rounded the table to pull his son into a tight hug.

"Oh Danny, it was you, the ghost boy, it was you."

"I'm sorry dad, I'm so sorry." The words wouldn't stop pouring from his lips, tumbling over and over. Jack's chest grew tight from the pain in his voice.

He ran a hand over his son's hair and shushed him gently.

"It's okay Danny-boy, it's not your fault, you did your best. I'm so proud of you son, we should have realised, you did so much all on your own, I'm so proud of you." It was Jack's turn to start blubbering.

"I should have told you." said Danny, voice muffled against Jack's chest.

He and Maddie always talked about all of the things that they would do to Phantom if they had ever caught him, they'd talked about it during family dinners. Danny had sat there listening, the whole time he had been right there listening.

"I... understand why you didn't." said Jack.

Danny had stopped shaking, he pulled away from Jack and wiped his eyes.

"Vlad told mom that he'd been overshadowed, she's been out hunting for the Wisconsin Ghost all week." Danny sniffed, "I wanted to tell her the truth, I wanted to so badly but Vlad he... he said he'd go for Jazz next. Said if he got past me once he could do it again. I couldn't risk it."

Jack had never understood why a ghost would choose to remain tethered, why they couldn't just move on and leave the living to go about their business in peace. He always told himself that when he died he would never return, he would take what was to come with open arms.

But that wasn't what happened. He'd gotten up to start his day as usual, but he was already dead. There had been no choice, and were he given one now, he didn't think he could bring himself to take it.

His family still needed him, how could he leave them behind? It wasn't wrong if he stayed to protect his family, right?

Jack placed a heavy hand on Danny's shoulder, and gently knocked his chin with a large fist.

"Buck up kiddo, I might need to get a handle on this whole bein' a ghost thing but when I do," Jack's voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl and, for just a brief moment, his eyes flashed a vibrant green, "I'm not gonna let him hurt anyone else."

#lula's fanfics #danny phantom #Bitter #jack fenton #am I projecting my neurodivergant ass on this man absolutely not how dare you sir #I just find not being able to tell if people are lying to me super relatable #danny phantom fanfiction #thanks y'all who told me how to do the readmores

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quirkless-accident · 2 years

Note

Time for some 'Oh, you havent heard?' angst train! ( Assuming the Fenton's havent been arrested yet.)

The Fenton's make an unveiling of their new invention(weapon) that could either incapacitate ghosts ( basically mortified, relieves their death and make them weak for days) or exorcist them out of existence ( basically humans and ghosts, he's half-dead so major injury that he cant self-heal and will leave a huge scar). Goal: Danny gets shot with said weapon.

Potentially leads the Fenton's to believe Danny's a full ghost since Danny's not only originally quirkless but also his quirk doesn't mach theirs and its supernatural.

Danny was on patrol with Present Mic when it happened. \

He had decided to choose and easy work study person. Who better than one of his parents? Not only that but he was good in the limelight and in the shadows like his other father. He was able to get the best of both worlds without Eraserhead's nagging.

The night had been cool and the wind low, and there hadn't been anything more major than a purse snatching all night long. It was no surprise that Phantom was able to talk Mic into getting some mid-patrol ice cream before they closed for the night.

And it's not like they stopped. No, once their ice cream was paid for, they walked right back outside to continue the patrol. They passed pedestrians who stopped Mic and Phantom both for photos and autographs, whish both of them were more than happy to provide.

It was supposed to be an easy night.

He hadn't seen them in almost three years.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

A few terrified screams came from around the corner as people were jumping off of the sidewalks and into the street or in whatever store was closest to them. And they didn't have to question why, because before they could even start running in the direction of the commotion, the commotion came to them.

Danny had an ice core, but he's pretty sure that's not what made his blood run cold. Not when an unfortunately familiar armored van fishtailed around the corner.

"Is that-"

"Yup!"

It was a quick conversation between the two as they quickly protected the civilians from the green energy beams racing towards them. Mic shielded one with his body while Danny threw up a bright green shield in front of a family. His hands were shaking, and there was a force stamping down on his chest making it harder and harder to breathe.

"Get out of my son, ghost boy!" Maddie Fenton yelled from the open window she was hanging out of. Danny moved, taking the family with them, and shoved them into the nearest store. Just as the shop door closed, a beam his his shield, breaking it in an instant. He was thrown back into the glass windows by the sheer force of it.

It was instinct alone that kept him from being shot. He moved before his brain could catch up. A scorch mark stained the walls where his head had just been moments before. His mother, it seemed, has been working on her aim.

They were obviously after him. He needed to lead them away from the civilians without getting hit. So going into the air was the obvious choice for him to make.

It was all he could do to dodge the blasts. Since they were made of ecto energy they worked on him even if he was intangible, and with the million sensors he knew they had in the van and his mom's infared goggles, there was no point in going invisible.

He led them back the way they came. The destruction was evident, so there wouldn't be much more damage, and the streets had cleared because of their crazy driving.

From where he was at he could see Present Mic and another hero who had joined the scene working on crowd control as he led them away. That was good. That meant that Mic wouldn't be hurt.

Danny yelped as the heat flew past his ear, just barely missing. He glared down at the armored van and his parents.

"Get out of my son, ghost scum!" She shouted, before firing off another blast. Danny dodged, and cupped his mouth so they could hear him.

"Not possessed!" He didn't get to say much more between the green rays still being shot at him. They weren't giving him any time to think. That was smart. It had been their biggest mistake in the past when they tried to catch him.

In the corner of his eye he could see Mic sprinting towards them. Eraserhead was at his heels. He must have been in the area. Danny swore.

Maddie must have seen who he was looking at, because for a brief, wonderful moment she stopped firing.

Only to point her gun at the two oncoming heroes.

Danny shot down to the ground like a rocket, making it just in time to throw up a shield in front of them. It broke as soon as the ectoray hit is, sending Danny back a few feet. He was about to throw up another one, when Maddie sent off a quick, second shot.

It hit Danny square in the chest, right where his core was. White hot pain immediately coursed through him. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, he knew that. But other than that he was dead to the world. The blood rushing in his ears and his vision turning white was deafening. In the distance he hard a scream that was sending shivers down his spine. It sounded awfully familiar. Was it him screaming? Maybe that would explain the extra pain in his throat.

It felt like his muscles were being torn apart, sinew snapping like wires. Fire and ice ran through his veins, begging to be let out. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't think-

His vision started to fade. White eventually to foggy figures looming over him, melting in far to quickly with the black that took him.

----------

"Eraserhead."

Shouta didn't need to lift his head up to know who was speaking. They had been working long enough now.

"Tsukauchi," he said. It was something to distract him from the heart monitor his son was hooked up to. It had been three days and he still hasn't woken up.

"I came to talk to you about what happened," he said. "I already got a statement from Mic."

Shouta closed his eyes. His leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably, and he gripped his son's hand like his life depended on it.

He had been patrolling the area when he saw Danny flying around. He was quick to run to Mic and get a rundown on the situation as they ran for their son. He had jumped in front of them. He had protected them. He...He was a self-sacrificing dumbass and Shouta wished so, so much that Danny would have just let them be hit because seeing Danny hooked up to a million machines, weak and exhausted, made him want to vomit. He would take a thousand of those blasts if it meant he never had to hear Danny scream like that again.

After being hit, Danny had dropped to the ground, writhing in pain. He wasn't aware of his surroundings at all. He had Mic stay with him, and move him to safety while Shouta had gone after the older Fentons.

He doesn't remember all that happened. He was in a blind rage when he attacked them. He remembers incapacitating the woman quickly, but the large brute of a husband had gripped him by his throat and shook him around until Shouta managed to make them crash. He had come out on top, of course. When you let blind rage take over that tends to happen.

Danny had been screaming. Green lightning was covering every inch of his body, and he was seizing. HIs body was jerking around in unnatural angles, centering around chest where Shouta knew his ghost core was. He would have gone back to kick the shit out of Maddie more if Mic hadn't stopped him.

The rest was a blur. Danny eventually passed out from the pain and reverted back to his human self. They rushed him to a hospital and called Jazz to let her know what was happening. The Fentons had been arrested, but Jack was in a separate hospital right next to the prison for injuries Shouta had given him. He had beaten the man within an inch of his life, Tsukauchi had told him. He didn't regret it one bit.

How could he? He would do it thrice over if it meant that Danny could be awake, and smiling and joking. If it meant that there was no possible permanent damage to his ghost half or his human half. If it meant he didn't have another Lichtenburg figure spanning across his body centering around his core. It was another permanent reminder of the people who were supposed to be his parents failing him.

Shouta included.

He thought he had taught Danny to stop being so self sacrificial. He hadn't done a good enough job, it seemed.

Tsukauchi said there would be no punishment for Shouta this time. Excessive force from heroes wasn't something usually glossed over, but Tsukauchi understood better than most. Plus, he hadn't used his quirk to take down Jack Fenton. Just his bare, blood-stained fists.

The detective left not long after, wishing Danny a speedy recovery and a promise that the Fentons would be behind bars indefinitely. Shouta thanks him, and turns back to his son.

Danny was pale, and wrapped in bandages. To monitor it better, they had left his chest exposed for the world to see. Even in his human form it was glowing a bright, angry green, fading to black the closer it got to his core. He gripped Danny's hand tighter, bringing it up to his forehead as he let his elbows rest on the side of the bed.

His son was dying. He didn't need a specialist to tell him that. And there was nobody in this godforsaken hospital who could help him because nobody here knew how to take care of a ghost.

The tears came quickly, but for once Shouta wasn't surprised by them. He was just glad Hizashi and Jazz had left the room to go get food from the cafeteria when Tsukauchi had walked in.

After a few long minutes of private, silent crying, there was the sound of a door opening, and then clicking shut. He expected it to be Hizashi, or Jazz, but there were no footsteps coming closer, no comforting hand on his back. No doctor to tell him to let go of Danny so he could take his vitals again.

Instead, there was a deep, smooth voice that rang throughout the room.

Shouta shot up at the unfamiliar voice, snarling as he stood up. The chair he had been sitting in tipped backwards and onto the floor. The blue being in front of him was unfazed.

"Who are you?" He asked, barring his teeth. He gripped his scarf, ready for action if he needed to take it. The blue man just smiled at him softly, as if he had expected this from Shouta.

"Eraserhead," he said. "It's nice to finally meet you. My name is Clockwork."

Shouta had heard Danny talk about him a couple of times. The Master of Time, he had called him. It fit, considering the staff and the fact that his whole torso was a giant clock. He could see the future, or possible futures, but couldn't intervene.

"Why are you here?" He asked. He didn't flinch as the ghost changed from a young adult to an elderly man. But he did grip his scarf a little harder when he pulled out a small vial that had a snow-blue liquid swirling around in it.

"This should help him," he said. "Since his core was attacked he won't be able to heal himself with this injury. This solution was made specifically for Danny, however. It should mend his core enough to wake him up."

"What about after?" Shouta asked. He didn't relax, but the grip on his scarf did loosen.

"He'll still be able to transform and retain his powers. Though they might be weakened for a while, he will make a full recovery."

"Why are you helping us?" Shouta asked after a few moments. The ghost shifted into a child, though the serious look never wavered. Most ghosts hated Danny just for existing. So why was this one so different?

"Because I care for him," Clockwork eventually said. "I'm not supposed to intervene, but Danny has made quite an impression. And he's destined for greater things than dying in a hospital bed." He gave the vial to Shouta, who took it with a shaky hand. "As his guardian, I do have to ask you a favor."

"I should have known this was a catch," Shouta said, baring his teeth once more. Clockwork just gave a soft chuckle.

"No, there isn't. That's why it's a favor, not an ultimatum."

Shouta considered this for a moment, before finally nodding towards the ghost, who had shifted back into a young adult.

"Go on."

"I wish to train Daniel in the Ghost Zone," the ghost eventually said. Shouta opened his mouth to protest, but Clockwork held up a hand to silence him. "Not forever. Not even for a long time. But the boy needs training and he needs rest. The ectoplasmic atmosphere will speed up his healing, as well as a session or to with Frostbite, who is the one who made the medicine for him. All I'm asking for is one night a week at the very most."

"Why should I grant it to you?" Shouta asked.

"Because, he is the future of both worlds. The future is still unclear, but if it goes in the way I think it will, I want him to be prepared. He is the only one who will be able to join both ghosts and humans to fight off the threat looming over out futures. Plus, I think it's high time he have a positive ghost role model to show him the ropes."

"So you're going to groom him into being your ambassador? Your weapon?" Shouta scowled. Danny wasn't some tool to be used and thrown out when useless. He was a person with his own thoughts and feelings and ambitions. He wasn't going to let some fucking ghost get in the way of that. And Danny, he was too willing to do the right thing. If Clockwork told him he needed to jump to save the world, he'd ask how high. As his parent-his father, Shouta couldn't just let him go like that.

"As I said, the future is still unclear," the ghost replied. His calm tone was starting to piss Shouta off. "The threat may not come at all, and Danny will still be all the better for it. Whether the threat comes or not, he's still going to learn how the Zone and ghosts function. Beyond just befriending a few and getting aimlessly lost with the infi-map."

"Why should I believe anything you're saying right now?" Shouta asked.

"I have no reason to lie. And it'll benefit him in the long run. When he is older, and his human half fades, where do you think he will go? He has already been touched by the Zone. He will need to know all of this eventually, anyway. Plus, I will admit I've grown rather fond of the boy. He's the only one who comes to visit because he enjoys my company. Not because he needs something from me. Purely selfish, on my part, I know, but...He is going to be a hero. Both in this world and mine. I just wish to give him all the tools I can."

Shouta had to admit, the ghost made a pretty good argument. And he seemed genuinely sincere with his words. Still, he needed time to think. He would need to talk to Hizashi and Jazz, and Danny when he woke up. He told as much to Clockwork, who nodded with understanding.

"I will come when you call," he said. "Make sure he gets that, however. Ingesting it will work perfectly fine."

With that, he tapped his staff against the ground and left through the portal it made.

----

A week later Danny finally woke up. He looked a little worse for wear, and he had thinned out some, but it wasn't anything physical therapy couldn't take care of.

He had woken up with a joke, and a soft smile in his eyes.

Shouta, for the first time in nearly two weeks, slept a full night, in the dim light of the hospital with his son.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #hizashi yamada #present mic #presentation michael #shouta aizawa #jack fenton #maddie fenton #dadzawa #dadmic #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #oh havent you heard?

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africanotaku92 · 3 years

Text

Schrodinger's Boy

I missed Phan Phic Phight but now I'm here for Dannymay! Not really going along with the prompts, just wanted to write something for the month.

I dedicate this to @five-rivers because i love their stuff so much!

Please, enjoy!

***

Schrödinger’s Boy

It was dead when she saw it.

Oh so very dead, but walking. Talking. Living.

That really doesn’t make sense, so let’s start from the beginning;

Nelia Ugochi d’Bandinello was not a normal child. Ever since she was young, she could see death. And no, not like the walking skeleton clad in black robes and a scythe most people assume, but real death; the dead, the dying, the undead, all. No one, not even her closest family members knew, and she intended to keep it that way. As long as she kept to her own and didn’t cross the line for the rules, she was safe.

Ever since her family moved to this country, she knew the small, sleepy town was a little dead. The essence was in every nook and cranny, even the air had a thin yet distinctive layer of it. Nothing she couldn’t handle.

That is, until now.

The air’s death suddenly sharpened the moment before it walked in.

At first glance, it looked like a boy. A cute boy in fact. Short compared to her tall. Pale skin in contrast to her deep dark, straight black hair opposed to curly blond. Baby blue opposing forest green. But then, the closer she looked, the more she noticed what was off. Skin was a little too pale to be considered healthy, and became slightly transparent as she saw more. Hair was wispy and floaty, almost defying gravity, almost flowing like it was under water as its head bounced. Eyes a bit more, sunken, a bit more tired. Worst of all, its heartbeat sounded so, so slow.

And now, it was sitting two tables across from her.

She swallowed the milkshake that threatened to spill out of her mouth. She tried to turn back to her food, tried to ignore its presence. But she kept glancing its way, turning back to the most terrifying yet fascinating creature she had ever seen.

And she just. Kept. Staring.

One of its cohorts – the black one with glasses – pointed at her direction, and it suddenly looked over. Their eyes made contact. She gasped and looked away.

‘Such haunting eyes.’ She thought.

“Nelia? What’s wrong?” She looked up to see her brother Irnerio, who had previously been trying to unhinge his jaw to fit an absolutely massive burger, was now looking at her in concern.

“Nothing.” She forced out. She glanced back at them. Her brother’s concerned face was already contorting into a smug grin.

“Oh? Falling in love already?” He chuckled “It’s the pale boy, right?” Her cheeks heated. Definitely not what was happening.

“Shut up.”

“Well, you did say that one of the advantages of moving was ‘Date cute Americans’. Though I must say, I always thought that the goth girl would be more your type. You could both indulge in your weird fascination with death.”

She hit her brother in the ribs.

“Stolto*.” She hissed. “I said shut up.”

Her brother laughed.

***

“Dude, the new girl is totally checking you out.”

Danny swallowed his bite of a burger. “What?”

He, Sam and Tucker had gone to Nasty Burger for lunch that Saturday, and had noticed the two newest additions to the town residence. The girl had been looking at them ever since they walked in.

“She’s probably not into me. Probably looking at Sam. They look foreign, so for all we know, she may be their first goth.”

“An honour I am willing to have with pride.”

“She’s looking over here right now!”

Danny turned to where Tucker was pointing and sure enough, she was looking at them. They made eye contact, and hers widened and she looked away.

“See? Totally into you.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Tuck.” He continued eating his burger. But somehow, he couldn’t shake the stare off of him. As if she was looking past his flesh and staring at the very ghost that made his soul.

He shivered at the thought.

***

Oh God above, it went to her school.

The creepy thing goes to her school.

She wondered how it got into her school. She wondered why, of all things, it had to attend as a student.

Mondays where truly the worst days of the week.

She had learned the creatures name was Danny Fenton, official school weirdo, son of the two most successful ghost hunters (oh the irony), and all-round loser she shouldn’t interact with (according to the Mexican girl that approached her). She didn’t really care though, as much as she was weary, she still wanted to know what it was. And she was determined to find out.

The bell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. She sighed and pulled her books from her locker. She didn’t want to be late.

***

Hours later, school was long over, and Nelia was busy at work in the kitchen, kneading dough for her second batch of strawberry calzones, the first already in the oven. Her mother stood at in front of the doorway, watching her.

“That’s a lot of dessert calzones for 4 people.”

She finished kneading and started rolling out the dough. “Oh no, ours are part of the last batch. Most of these are offerings.” She turned to her mother. “I’m going to the Cemetery after dinner. To pay some respects.”

Her mother sighed. There was no talking her out of this. Every time they go someplace new, she always paid her respects at a local gravesite. She stopped trying to prevent her a long time ago.

“Well, just be back before midnight. But in the meantime, let me help you close the ones you’ve already filled. We could talk, use some mother daughter bonding time.” She smiled and nodded at her mum, handing her a spare apron. She gladly took it and set to work beside her daughter.

“Have you heard? There’s a story I heard. They say this town has some kind of ghost hero…”

***

It was late in the evening, and she had paid her respects at the last grave when she saw him.

And he was oh so very much Alive.

Silver white hair adorned his head like a glowing crown. Striking, electric green eyes, a black jumpsuit with white boots and gloves. Veins, across his skin, visible with the implication of pure green death flowing in them, the sound of each breath he takes. A pulsating buzz emitting from his chest, almost sounding like a beating heart. These where the features of Amity Park’s local hero and (dead) celebrity, Danny Phantom.

And he had just landed in front of her.

“Um, are you ok? It’s pretty late out.”

She blinked at first, startled to hear him talk, but composed herself enough to speak.

“Ah, yes I’m fine. Just, paying my respects.” She gestured to the grave and the basket of food.

“Oh, really? That’s nice of you! Apart from family, hardly anyone pays respect these days.”

“Yes, it’s something I try to do everywhere I go. Speaking of respect, where’s yours?”

Danny blinked. “My what?”.

“Your grave. I have to pay my respects to you. This is the only cemetery in town, but I didn’t see your grave.”

Danny froze in shock. He hadn’t really thought about it.

“Oh. I kind of, uhm, don’t have one?” Because I’m not really dead.

It was Nelia’s turn to be shocked. And then she was angry. Was this town really so ungrateful that they didn’t have a grave for their hero? That wouldn’t do.

“Where do you want one?”

“What?”

“Where would you want your grave? I’m going to make you one.”

Danny’s eyes widened.

“Your… going to make a grave for me?” “Of course? It’s only common decency, a basic right to the dead. I might not have your body, but if I have a photo to at least mark your image, it would do.”

Danny was stunned by this gesture. No one had offered him a grave before. So, he told her about his ideal spot.

Weeks later, in a secluded spot in the woods, he stands with her above a freshly dug grave, underneath a willow tree, facing directly at the night sky marked with a picture of him in his ghost form. She drops a plate of calzones and lights some lavender incense. She pays her respects and stands back letting him trace over the picture and admire the grave. It’s not the best grave, but it’s also the only one he’s received. He couldn’t help it, as a few tears dripped from his eyes. It was a sweet gift.

He turns to her, clasps his hand in hers. He manages to choke out between tears.

“Thank you.”

She stares back at him. This action, it’s so… human. She senses familiarity, like she could almost imagine him when he was alive……

Oh.

The connection between the dead boy and alive ghost hits her like a train, all the similarities adding up. She smiles at him.

“It’s your grave. You should bring your friends to see it.”

His eyes widen in panic, wondering how she found out. She shakes her head.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He relaxes and nods, let’s go of her hands and they stare back at his very own grave. Sam and Tucker are going to flip when they see it.

That night, she’s back in her room, wide awake, thinking of everything that happened. His hands were cold, but not like death cold. Like he had stuck his hands in the freezer. His tears were so real.

This boy, who was dead yet alive. Walking perfectly on the line between life and death, tittering to neither side.

Schrödinger’s boy indeed.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dannymay2021 #dp #long reads #i'm sorry i had to resort to google translae #even if it was just one word #i was gonna write more but i finished this at 1 am

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princessfanonanona · 3 years

Text

Sibling Shenanigans

Thank you to the horrible (most wonderful) goose, ln-ofx, who this is dedicated to 💜 who said “I think it would be SO MUCH FUN for collage shenanigans Danny to share college stories with his parents.”

This was a drabble that decided to eat my life so I hope you enjoy it.

---

Jazz bumps her shoulder against Danny in greeting as she sits on the couch next to him.

"Ugh," Danny whines, "What?"

"Should you be drinking as much coffee as you are?" Jazz says, sneaking the remote away from Danny.

"What are you even talking about?"

"The cost of feeding that caffeine addiction you have cannot be worth it," she muses.

"I don't have-"

"Although, considering the expected application jump, I can see them wanting to keep you around."

"Applications? Who?"

"It is rather impressive that you're as oblivious as you are."

"Hey!"

Jazz turns to him to meet his eyes, "I am so proud of you…"

Danny's cheeks darken from frustration to bashful.

"...but don't you dare think you're getting out of avoiding your own mental and physical check ups to let loose and become a local legend."

Danny swears in one of the more modern ghost languages, hissing and popping the noises.

She pinches his side and responds in kind.

"Ugh no," Danny leans away, swatting, "You're not allowed to know how to speak in dead languages, that's my thing."

"As if it's not more amusing to have someone understand the ridiculous puns you pull off."

Danny pouts.

"In all seriousness," she ruffles his hair, "I know I've been super busy with my classes but I'll always have time for you and keeping up with the antics of Coffee Ghost will always be the highlight of my day."

Danny groans dramatically, "This is the worst."

"Lies, you're actually quite pleased with yourself, aren't you?"

"Ehhhh…" he shrugs. "I mean it's kind of nice that my school is so blasé about it all."

"And that has nothing to do with becoming an internet sensation with a billion memes?"

"You're exaggerating."

"Oh, you don't actually know, do you?" She giggles.

"Know what?"

Instead of answering, she pulls up the yutube app and taps in a search for College Cryptid. The return search has well over five thousand videos. The first few videos all have Danny's face on the thumbnail with some neon color tag.

"Ancients, you're fucking with me aren’t you?"

Jazz laughs and clicks on the one that's titled 'Danny Hates Stairs.'

"Stairs are stupid and a waste of time," Danny complains even as he watches himself flip over and parkour up various stairwells on campus.

"What's this about a waste of time?" Jack asks, walking out of the kitchen. He has a giant grease stain across his cheek and a small burn mark running up his arm.

"Stairs," Danny and Jazz answer in sync.

"What exploded?" Jazz asks.

"Incorrect wiring of the variable current discharge regulator to the raw ectoplasm battery feed," Maddie answers wiping grease off her hands.

"Why can't you just call it what it is?" Danny arches an eyebrow.

"Why are stairs a waste of time?" Jack frowns moving further into the living room. "Danno! You're on tv!"

The video boomerangs on a scene of Danny backflipping off of a stair railing onto the one under and back up.

"Apparently I'm famous," Danny says.

"Sweetie," Maddie starts, voice laced with parental disappointment. "That's so dangerous, you could get hurt."

The worst burnt, melted plastic and metal smell hits the younger Fenton's noses.

"Oh gross," Danny recoils, putting a hand to his face. "When you said you blew a capacitor, you should've mentioned size."

"What were you even working on?" Jazz asks, pinching her own nose.

"We were modeling a mockup of the Fenton Ghost Screamer," Maddie answers as Jack pointedly sniffs himself.

"Well that doesn't sound ominous or anything," Danny mutters.

"What is it supposed to do?" Jazz asks, elbowing Danny in the side.

"It should be able to capture the sound that ghosts make and return it as a specialized sound wave to paralyze the ghost," Maddie answers.

Jazz and Danny share a look as Jack bounces excitedly in front of the TV.

"Danno! When did you learn to move like that?" he asks.

"Uh...when avoiding the ghosts that attack the high school?" Danny offers.

"You learned how to clear a stairwell in a single leap running from ghosts?" Maddie makes a skeptical face at him.

"A large chunk of the student body became really good at clearing obstacles," Jazz says.

"Really?" Jack turns part way to the kids, eyes still watching the video of Danny pulling more and more absurd moves to avoid walking on stairs.

"I know Sam and I can jump pretty high on a good day," Jazz continues.

"How high is pretty high?" Maddie asks.

A loud ring is heard from upstairs.

"Oh shit!" Danny leaps to his feet, patting his pockets. "What time is it? I promised to meet up with Val."

"Language," Maddie chides even as she watches Danny take a running leap to clear the stairs and disappear down the hall.

"Wow," Jack whistles, impressed, "That was a heck of a leap."

Danny barrels back down the hall, leaps the landing and bounces out the door.

"Illbehomefordinnerbye!"

The door slams shut.

The video ends and gives two pop ups for similar videos.

"Where did my little boy go," Maddie muses to herself and heading upstairs.

Jazz flicks the TV off, getting up herself.

"Please air out the lab before dinner, I don't want to be smelling ozone while I eat," she comments to Jack as she passes.

"Where are you heading Jazzy-pants?" Jack asks with a frown.

"A walk, I think I might bother Spike and Cory."

"You'll be home for dinner, right?"

"Yep!"

---

"It's almost time," Maddie says, checking her watch again.

"They'll be here," Jack consoles from his seat, watching her pace.

"Jazz I'm not too worried about, she was always so punctual," Maddie taps her chin in thought. "Danny though?"

Jack catches her by the waist on her next pass, pulling her onto his knee, and presses a kiss to her cheek, "Relax, they'll be here."

The sound of the front door opening has them both on their feet.

"See! I bet that's them now," he beams and leads them out of the kitchen.

"-and that's when he said," Danny is saying before shifting to a low baritone with an obnoxious Boston accent, "Why, I left my khakis in my khakis, I can't drive!"

Jazz is giggling next to him and barely standing straight.

"Oh hey!" Danny greets when he spots his parents before pausing with a frown. "What's wrong?"

Jazz sobers up quickly to overlook them.

"Were you guys worried we wouldn't be home in time for dinner?" She asks, setting her bag down.

"Who? Us? Pshh," Jack waves off, "Nah, we just wanted to...uh…"

Jazz and Danny exchange a look.

"We're just so excited that we have you both home again," Maddie says. "Go wash up, I'm setting the dinner out now."

Danny shrugs at Jazz's questioning look and wanders to the bathroom. Jazz follows into the kitchen to wash her hands.

"Oh wow," she says, hesitating in the entryway. There's a whole roasted turkey being pulled from the oven and the table is set with dishes upon dishes of food. "That's a lot of food."

"Did we skip into fall?" Danny asks, coming up behind her, "What's with the Thanksgiving feast for 50?"

"That was fast," Jazz says and ducks from the immediate flick of water Danny sends her way. "How are you such a child?"

"Don't front, you missed me." Danny says, resting his arm on her head.

"I missed tiny you," Jazz says, poking Danny in the side to be released. "I didn't miss this bean pole version you grew into."

"Now, now, why don't we all sit down and eat?" Maddie asks, setting a gravy boat on the table.

"Without some new invention being worked on?" Danny asks, incredulous. "Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming."

Jazz pinches him and leaves for the bathroom.

"So Danno," Jack starts, taking his seat. "How'd you get on tv?"

"Well I'm not on tv," Danny starts, taking the seat across from him. "My classmates just like filming things and posting them online. It's kind of a meme to get the craziest thing recorded."

"Well when I was your age, we didn't have all that fandangled recording equipment," Jack leans forward, resting an arm on the table. "Heck, it would have made recording our experiments that much easier."

"It would have saved so much time recording the results and reviewing for flaws," Maddie agrees.

"You wouldn't have used it to record memories?" Jazz asks, returning and taking her seat.

"Oh that should go without saying," Maddie laughs, plating half the turkey onto Jack's plate.

"Heck, I think we still have our old camera equipment from our college days in a box somewhere," Jack says. "V-man and I had rounded up every spare penny to get the whole kip and caboodle."

"We captured our first evidence to support our theory on ghosts on that camera," Maddie says, taking her seat.

"Really?" Danny asks. "Why haven't you ever mentioned it before?"

"Well the originals ended up destroyed during one of our first experiments in college," Maddie answers.

"And the raw film went missing so we couldn't develop them again," Jack half whines, slamming his fist on the table rattling everything.

The rest of the Fentons grab their glasses to prevent spillage.

"Danny, pass the salt?" Jazz asks.

Danny tosses it to her who barely catches it.

"Danny!" Maddie chides.

"What? She said ‘pass it’."

"This isn't football!" Jazz snaps.

"Obviously," Danny beams innocently, "That's a salt shaker not a ball."

"I'm literally sitting next to you," Jazz says.

"So?"

"Oh sweet Ancients," Jazz mutters under her breath. Then, louder, "You're almost 19, not 9, college has been terrible on your developmental psyche."

"Wow, totally uncalled for," Danny puts a hand to his chest, "you've wounded me."

Jazz squints at him.

"Who's the terrible influence I have to complain to?" she asks.

"Anjie," Danny answers without hesitation.

"The tiny menace?" Jazz asks.

"That's the one," Danny points his fork at her before taking a bite. With a full mouth he continues, "Also Kat, cause she's an actual drama baby."

"Wonderful," Jazz's smile doesn't reach her eyes.

"Are these girls' someone you're interested in?" Maddie asks.

"Oh no, ew," Danny makes a face. "Anjie is nonbinary, meaning they don't have a defined gender and Kat is practically married to her girlfriend already. And even if they swung for my team, there's, like, negative attraction there."

"Furthermore, as previously mentioned, Anjie is a tiny menace," Jazz adds.

"Yeah they are," Danny beams. "They're like the second smallest person on campus and chaos just follows in their wake like nobody's business."

"Didn't they start that petition to bring their pets on campus?" Jazz asks.

"Didn't I already tell you that story?"

"You never finished it."

"Huh, okay," Danny shrugs, "So at some point, mid fall semester, they decided they were feeling homesick. So they started to petition for students to have their pets on campus which normally would have been fine if, y'know, they wanted a frog or a bird or something."

"Reasonable," Jazz says.

"But is it really safe for the other students to have such animals on campus?" Maddie frowns.

"Not like we didn't see weirder pets in our day," Jack nudges her. "Don't you remember ol' Frank and Chuck? They had that llama living in the dorm with them."

"They had an alpaca, dear," Maddie corrects. "And it ate Vlad's sweater."

"Which is a very llama thing to do," Jack waves a drumstick around to emphasize his point. "Alpacas just don't eat sweaters, everyone knows that."

"I have questions," Jazz states.

"Same," Danny follows up with.

"Finish your story first, sweetie," Maddie waves off.

"We're going to return to this conversation point," Danny allows, then thinks back, "Where was I?"

"You were implying that Anjie didn't want a normal pet to bring onto campus," Maddie says.

"Right, so Anjie gets this big petition under way, half the school signs it before Miles finds out."

"Impressive," Jazz says honestly because she has already heard some of the more insane things the two get up to.

"Right?" Dany agrees. "Miles, very understandably, is concerned and has many questions in regards to this petition that everyone is signing."

"It can't be that bad," Jack frowns.

"It was a 47 page legal document that entailed the rights of pet ownership into Angie's hands if they found the pet pleasing enough under the guise of allowing said pets on campus. There was a 13 page addendum stating the clauses in which ownership of the pet in question could be challenged so that the original owner could keep their pet, excluding the students who already signed the petition. Further details of the fine print was to allow Anjie, and any student who signed, to alter campus grounds to make a safe home for any pet being brought to school."

Maddie and Jack stare blankly at Danny. Jazz is barely holding in giggles.

"Please tell me you have a copy of that," Jazz squeaks, "I have a law friend that would absolutely adore that."

"All of the printed copies were burned but I can probably get my hands on a new set," Danny says, blue eyes shimmering the slightest amount.

"What happened next?" Jack asks.

Danny blinks, "Miles went through about half the book before declaring it not a legally binding document as there were too many issues with contradictions and such. This started a fight as Anjie argued that he needed to read it properly to see that it is a legally binding agreement as all the aspects of such a process were properly adhered to in the eyes of the law.

"They ended up taking the whole thing to the law school down the road to have it looked at. A week later Anjie was told by the school to end the contract or face immediate expulsion and police escort off campus. Anje, obviously, chose to destroy the contract."

"Was it really that bad of a document?" Maddie asks.

"I didn't read it myself, but from what I heard, it was really nasty." Danny comments.

"What sort of pet did Anjie even want at the school?"

"A komodo dragon named Popcorn."

"A what?" Maddie half shrieks.

"Komodo dragon, y'know, those big oversized lizards that have so much bacteria in their mouth that they're practically venomous?" Danny says. His phone beeps.

"I know what a komodo dragon is, Danny," Maddie snaps, "What sort of person has one as a pet?"

"Anjie the tiny menace," Jazz says, "Wait, doesn't Miles call them something else?"

"He calls them a troll," Danny answers, reading the text. His eyebrows hit his hairline, "How do they do that?"

"Do what?"

"Anjie just texted me with a link to an article about the new study that declares komodo dragons are actually venomous."

"That's a fun fact and oddly unsettling...you said Miles calls them a troll?" Jazz asks.

"Yeah, why?" Danny pockets his phone again.

"Huh, just an idea," Jazz pushes her peas around in thought. She visibly files the information away before looking back up. Danny arches an eyebrow at her but doesn't comment.

"I don't think I like this person spending so much time around you, sweetie," Maddie says.

"Why not?"

"I feel like she's not a healthy influence on your person," Maddie comments.

"They," Jazz and Danny say simultaneously.

"Excuse me?"

"They're nonbinary, they use they/them pronouns," Danny says.

"Anjie is a girl's name," Jack frowns in confusion.

"Anjie is a nickname, you don't say the same thing about 'Alex' or 'Sam' or, heck, even 'Danny' could be short for Danielle," Danny argues.

"But that's different," Maddie says.

"If we said Anje from the beginning, you would have assumed we were referring to 'Angelo' or something," Jazz states. "Names are important reflections of the personal identity, as are preferred pronouns. You don't have to understand the reasons or the why behind a person's choices so long as you respect them for who they are."

"Besides, how much impact on your personal life does calling someone with different pronouns cause?" Danny questions. "I would hazard a guess that it wouldn't change anything except make someone else feel, minimally, comfortable, at max, happy."

"Oh no, the horror," Jazz puts her hands up in deadpan fright, "You made a stranger happy."

"On an irrelevant note, Anjie is terrible but they're not actually a bad person," Danny pushes his mashed potatoes into a volcano.

"Miles has been an interesting influence on you," Jazz says, shifting the topic.

Danny barks a laugh, "Yeah, he's great. Just last week he sent me a video of him and Connor debating the pros and cons of setting up an American Ninja Warrior course in their backyard."

"Who won?" Jazz asks.

"Miles but he was out voted by the rest of the family," Danny says.

"I didn't think Connor and Miles were brothers?" Jazz asks.

"They're sorta technically dating? Not really?" He furrows his eyebrows in thought.

"How can you be dating and not dating at the same time?" Jack asks with a mirrored expression.

"Like they're together, but they're not together, they don't go on dates or hold hands or do other romantic things. It's weird but it works and makes them happy," Danny shrugs.

"Oh!" Jack has a lightbulb moment. "They sound like Carl and Bertie, you remember them Mads."

"How could I not?" Maddie half laughs, half sighs. "They were these two boys two years ahead of us that were inseparable. You would think they were joined at the hip, and everyone thought they were going to get married."

"Now, you gotta remember kids," Jack cuts in, "This was during a time that homosexuals were beaten in broad daylight for who they loved."

"Especially a mixed couple like them," Maddie agrees. "It was getting better but it wasn't the safest thing for them. It wasn't until tensions were high that someone demanded they prove they weren't in a relationship."

"So Carl goes 'Sure,' grabs the nearest girl and kisses her into next week. Bertie points to the girl and says, 'That's my little sister, and they're already married,'" Jack says with odd glee.

"The entire school was turned upside-down at the news," Maddie continues. "It took a week to settle down again, with Carl and Bertie continuing to be inseparable but no one questioned it anymore."

"That's amazing, can you imagine the balls on them to pull that off?" Danny says.

"Danny!" Maddie gasps, scandalized. "Where in the world did you pick up that language?"

"What? Balls?" Danny blinks, confused.

"Daniel James Fenton!" Jack points a finger in Danny's face, "You watch that tone of yours right this instant."

Danny opens and closes his mouth with multitudes of emotions crossing his face. It eventually settles on complete bafflement.

"How do you watch an implied emotional inflection on sound?" he asks.

Jazz chokes on her drink, spitting it back into the glass.

"Stop being dense," Maddie frowns. "You know exactly what we meant."

"Balls is now a bad word?" Danny asks and then, brightening slightly, "Balls balls soccer balls, footballs-"

"Danny, stop!"

"-racket balls, golf balls, tennis balls-"

"Danny!"

"-bowling balls, balls, bowls, balls, big balls, small balls, balls."

Jazz isn't even trying to hide her giggling at this point.

Maddie and Jack are torn between laughing and being unimpressed.

"Hey, while we're at it, can we include stick, rod, shaft and member as suddenly bad words?" Danny continues. "Maybe toss in wands, baguette, baton, head, and pipe too, just to cover our bases."

Jazz has reached a point of giggle-laughter that is just this side of being considered a wheeze.

"Let's not be exclusionary though," Danny gestures to with his fork, "New bad words should also include flower, blossom, lips, bust, chest, chesticles-"

Jazz hiccups into a wheeze.

"-and that's not even touching the unfortunate names for so many birds. Tits, boobies, woodcock, shags, horned screamers, are these also suddenly bad words too?"

Jack has turned away with a hand to his face, shoulders shaking.

Maddie has a face of complete disappointment.

"Are you done?" She asks.

"Possibly," Danny smiles innocently.

Maddie's disappointment slips into looking absolutely done as Jack and Jazz slowly recover their composure.

"Ahem," Jack coughs into his hand. "Now that we've established that, I do believe you both made your points clear."

"Oh, I just remembered another funny animal story from school," Danny smiles bright.

"Oh, do tell, I'm so curious," Maddie says, voice stiff.

"So one of the girls from my astronomy club, Sophie, brought some of the animals from her family's sanctuary as an Animal Advocate" Danny says.

"Really?" Jazz asks. "What sort of animals did she bring? They'd have to be campus friendly, I assume."

"They were," Danny nods, "We had 2 hedgehogs, a capuchin, a boa, and the tiniest species of antelope I've ever seen."

"Antelope?" Jack asks.

"Yeah, it's about this big," Danny holds his hands up about a foot apart, "And you'd never guess what they're called."

"Ancients," Jazz swears, putting a hand to her face.

"What are they called, Danny?" Maddie asks.

Danny's grin turns mischievous.

"Dik-dik."

#danny phantom #college shenanigans #phanfiction #danny fenton #jazz fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #family fluff #this was supposed to be short #to the actual surprise of NOONE #it clearly got away from me #nona writes

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