One Danny Phantom headcanon (canon?? i think??) that i don't actually like is the idea that it takes Danny energy to switch to his ghost form, any more than it takes to switch to his human form.
Like, when he gets really tired or gets hit particularly hard, he switches back to his human form, but I feel like that? shouldn't? happen?? I feel like both of his forms should be as easily inhabited as the other. I feel like switching between them should be as easy as breathing. (Well okay, switching too much, I could see how that could get exhausting on his forms, as he is switching his biology a ton, but that goes both ways!)
Also, I think his intangible, invisible, and floating powers should be easy for him to use. I just think those wouldn't require him to exert any energy. If anything, I think it would be harder to do the opposite! To be visible and tangible, to appear as though gravity has any effect on him.
I have little to no explanation for why I feel this way, thanks <3
I don't know if this makes any sense at all, but....
ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ
16 notes
·
View notes
Walking up to the cloister under the House of Grief, Shadowheart stops the party. Points out the amounts of Sharrans in the room and how, no doubt, once they see Shadowheart, they will turn on them to be rid of her. She wants to find her parents, but even this seems like overwhelming odds for them.
Ronan takes that into consideration. Turns to Gale to be sure he has some kind of better invisibility spell on hand, which he proudly says 'oh yes' as he readies it. Then the cleric looks to Astarion, who's pretending like he wasn't expecting this, as he feigns ignorance and asks if there's something Ronan needs.
"Impress me." Ronan tells him as Gale casts greater invisibility, the vampire disappearing before thier eyes.
As they walk down to the chamber, Shadowheart follows Ronan's lead, withdrawing her shield and weapon. Viconia is saying something, but it's drowned out by a scream as one, two of the Sharrans fall dead in the stands. The mother superior tries to salvage it, but half of her cohorts are listless and confused, swinging at each other under a wizard's spell and the other half are fighting a losing battle with two clerics and a vampire they can't seem to hit as a holy sunlight keeps the darkness as bay.
After, Astarion saunters over to Ronan, a smug little smirk in place as he asks if he's impressed. Ronan looks over his bloodied face, snorting before he shakes his head, tells him he only got two before the rest of them had to step in. What follows can loosely be called an argument, more accurately blatant flirting and Shadowheart remembers why she doesn't come along for battles anymore.
7 notes
·
View notes
I don't know if you've ever been to Paris before, but I recommend going. Normally, I would not have gone, but I made a really rich enemy on IRC and he spent a lot of money to have me kidnapped and brought to his home country. While I was there, I got to try a bunch of restaurants (they're hostage-takers, not barbarians) and came away impressed. Something was missing, though, and herein is my genius idea.
In Paris you can get any kind of food. Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese, Thai: and it's all good. All of it. You literally can't find a bad restaurant. At one point, I walked into a convenience store and got a plate of one-Euro nachos that made me cry at the beauty of the arrangement.
Everyone around me was taking this for granted. Having lived there for years, their quality threshold had crept invisibly upwards until nothing could impress again. They needed something to re-calibrate their sense of truly bad food. That's where I came in. After I got kicked out of the country, I decided to come back with some investor support. I can burn cereal, usually by roasting it gently with a blowtorch on the top of an old gas can. Investors were easy to find.
Our first week of opening was tremendous. Hardened Parisians were discovering their first taste of truly incompetent food. The novelty of it all had captured them. There's just one problem, though: after making an entire lunch rush's feast of poorly-cut toast in reheated canned soup, my cooking skills began to improve from sheer experience. The complaints began to change tone. You got too good, they cried, you're not the same bad chef we once loved. Again, I was deported.
I looked out the window of the plane as it left De Gaulle, staring down onto the beautiful streets of Paris. Down there, I imagined, real gourmets were now eating food out of trash cans out of desperation to recapture what they had experienced with me. If there is one nice thing to be said, I now have two Michelin Stars here in my homeland of Canada, where my consommé-and-grilled-cheese recipe is now so much better than most of our restaurants that it made the Prime Minister Herself come and spit in my face for ruining the economy, before awarding me an Order of Canada. It's not the same.
3K notes
·
View notes
Danny was enjoying himself. His new haunt was suprisingly spacious and came with lots of charges who needed protection and care.
The old butler guy, Alfred, seemed to at least have an idea of what was going on. He had been making extra food lately and leaving it out for Danny to eat in a secluded area. Danny always made sure to turn the plate invisible and sneak it back to his hidden passage panic room before he started eating.
In return, Danny made sure to do lots of chores around the manor. Intangibility and wind manipulation made dusting super easy if you knew how to use it right.
Danny also took his job as a guardian spirit seriously. He overheard the bats fighting about not wanting to be coddled on patrol and decided it was best to let them handle themselves outside of the manor. Danny himself hated when people stuck thier noses into his business.
Jazz had screwed him over countless times with her good intentions.
But the manor was different. This was his new haunt after his old one kicked him out. This family had invited him in whether they knew it or not. Also, since the Fentons and GIW don't exist in this world, they'd have a hell of a time kicking him out.
It's best not to let it come to that. So Danny had to make these people love him the way Amity Park never did.
The Wayne's however are rather dense. You would think them being the worlds greatest detectives would mean something, but they kept silently blaming each other for things happening around the manor until they couldn't.
A book being put away when they were done with it or their messes being cleaned up when they came back into a room could be easily explained by how many people lived there. The family entering the dining room, discussing what they were going to order for dinner since Alfred was gone for a week only to find a full meal waiting for them on the diner table? They couldn't brush that off.
None of them could cook.
4K notes
·
View notes
it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.
it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.
you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.
it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.
your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?
it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.
your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.
it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.
literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!
it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.
but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!
get moving.
4K notes
·
View notes
Damian has beef with a homeless kid. Both as a Wayne, and as Robin.
As a Wayne, Damian being alone outside was a rare thing. Most of the time a sibling would be accompanying him or wouldn't be too far off, but he was well and truly alone for the first in a while.
Then he stepped into an alleyway and nearly got hit in the face. It wasn't unexpected, considering this is Gotham, but it's unusual for a thief to be bare-handed.
They then devolved into a fistfight and, while the other boy's form has at least some foundation it was pitiful in comparison to the Demon's Heir and the son of Batman. But the boy had quite a lot of power that he threw around with his punches and kicks, power that Damian used against him while simultaneously dodging his attacks.
There was an invisible line that the boy refused to let him cross that led deeper into the alleyway, and he somehow managed to do exactly that. Looping Damian right back to their starting positions at the start of this fight, Damian at the mouth and the unknown at the middle point.
Damian then caught sight of familiar green scales, a groan, and a very familiar voice calling out "Kid...?" The boy in front of him seemed, genuinely, panicked at the voice's interruption, but not with fear.
But with worry.
So then Damian left, pushing away each and every notion that he should detain Killer Croc right then and there with the logic that he didn't even have his uniform and the proper equipment to effectively deal with someone of Killer Croc's powerset.
Somehow, whenever he was alone from his siblings, he's always met the boy, whom he learned was called Danny via overhearing Killer Croc speaking to him. Their meetings always started in a fight, and ended with no victor as Damian sneaked away as soon as Killer Croc made his presence known.
No wonder he's been so quiet, it seemed he either had a child or found one.
===
As Robin, Damian would admit that he was caught off guard by the same boy who acted as Killer Crocs 'bodyguard' (either for the mutant himself, or everyone else. He doesn't care enough to find out) and would say it was a good move.
But that was as much praise as he was willing to give.
Robin recognized Danny at first glance, if not in looks than surely the fighting style he was familiarized with over the past few months. A mixture between refined and wild.
As always, he threw far more power than his body should allow for someone of his build and age, so perhaps he was a mutant as well. It didn't matter, what did, however, was how each of the punches thrown could punch straight through a wall.
Robin never let himself get hit fully to test if it could as easily pierce the human body as well.
As usual, Robin was either redirecting, outright dodging or blocking (when he wasn't able to dodge just right enough for the attack to not hit him) the attacks that came his way. And, as always, wherever it seemed Killer Croc went, Danny went as well.
Wherever Killer Croc found this boy, Robin would give him credit for being able to choose his protegees correctly.
Robin let no one else deal with Danny whenever he's on scene along with Killer Croc. His father wouldn't even fight him unless it was necessary, most of the time busy with Killer Croc himself, Nightwing was occupied in his own territory, as well as Red Hood.
Robin would not so humbly refuse to even entertain the idea of Red Robin as a candidate.
When Killer Croc escaped, Robin let his opponent chase after his guardian to nurse the wounds that came, more often than not, from counters to his own attacks.
He always had an excuse ready as for the why.
===
Damian Wayne saw something surprising, when he met Danny again.
Robin's own attack being thrown at him.
Of course, it was sloppy and almost painful to look at. But it still surprised Damian, nonetheless.
He spent some time effectively guiding Danny to perform the attack to an at least practical level. Not that Danny asked, or he offered, but it was easy to guide the flow of the fight to what he wanted.
===
Robin was surprised. Not to any great level, but it caught him off guard.
Danny had almost perfectly countered his attack.
It was still sloppy in some places, needed a bit more refining and a great less of the power that was unconsciously behind it. Other than that, it was performed that Damian could say he was almost impressed.
Danny landed a hit on him, and he was quite sure he may have broken a rib, bruised his chest, or both.
So of course, he ruthlessly beat the boy into the ground while pointing out each and every flaw in his technique. Then let him run off after his... master? Father?
He does not know the significance of the role Killer Croc plays to the boy, but he let him run away after him back to the sewer systems.
Of course, an excuse already on lips for his father to hear, and even better, physical evidence to back up his claim.
3K notes
·
View notes