aprocessionofthoughts

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Asking for Help

whumptober24 day 31- asking for help fandom - dp x dc tw- mentioned injury summary- they need help, and they need to learn to ask for it

masterlist ao3 part 9 of TFR

Jazz stared at Danny’s wound. They’d done their best to stitch it up and keep it clean. But the skin around the incision was red and inflamed. She couldn’t tell if it was infected or not. She didn’t even know if Danny could get infections.

She bit her lip. “Danny…” she trailed off. “I think we need someone to look at this.”

Danny didn’t say anything. 

“Danny.”

He turned to look at her.

“Danny, we need someone to look at this. It could be infected, and the stitches are done terribly, and I don't know how to take care of it. We need help.”

Danny looked away again. “Who could we tell?”

“Barbara said she knew some people.”

“Are we even sure we can trust her?” he said.

Jazz frowned at him. “Danny,” she took his hand in hers, “you’ve told me that you feel nothing but kindness and honesty from her. I don’t think she was lying to us. I know… I know how hard it is to trust people. I’m anxious too. But we need help. We can’t have this injury getting worse.”

Danny sighed. “Okay.” he whispered.

Jazz’s smile was wobbly, but she squeezed his hand. “I’ll tell Barbara.” She stood, letting go of his hand and walking out of the room and heading toward the kitchen where she could hear Barbara moving around.

“Barbara?” she said, stepping into the kitchen.

“You can call me Babs, Jazz.” Babs said scrubbing a plate from breakfast.

Jazz tried to smile, but it was only a tiny thing. “You mentioned something last night about knowing someone with medical training?”

Babs paused while rinsing off a plate. “Yes. I know two people. An older woman who runs a private clinic, and an older gentleman. I trust them both.”

Jazz bit her lip. “I don’t know… his injuries… they’re bad.” Jazz had wrapped her arms around himself and was staring at the ground.

“Does he need help urgently?” Babs asked, trying to keep her voice calm, but she could feel fear climbing up her through. How badly was Danny injured?

Jazz shook her head. “I don’t think so. But… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help him.”

Babs wheeled herself over, placing a hand on Jazz’s arm. “It’s okay, Jazz. You’re doing what you can. We can get him the help he needs. He’ll be okay.”

Jazz relaxed slightly.

“Do you have a preference for who I ask to come and check Danny?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, then I’ll give them both a call and see who’s available.” 

Jazz nodded. “Okay.” She paused. “Thank you.” she whispered before leaving to go back to Danny.

Babs stared after her. How badly was Danny injured that not only would the siblings come to her, someone they’d only briefly met, but that they’d also be willing to seek help from someone they didn’t know.

She called Dr. Thompkins first. She answered, but said she’d be busy today unless it was urgent. Babs called Alfred next.

“Miss Gordon, how are you this fine morning?”

She smiled. “I’m doing alright, Alfred. How are you doing? Everything go alright last night?”

“I am doing well. Master Jason got into a tussle and sprained his wrist, but other than that everyone here is well.”

Babs sighed, relieved that there had been no major injuries on patrol last night. “That’s great, Alfred. I have to admit though that I’m not calling today just to chat.”

Alfred hummed. “What is it that you need, dear?”

“Could you please come by my apartment? And… could you bring a first aid kit? I’m afraid I’ve run out of supplies.” she said, knowing that Alfred would understand that more than the average first aid kit supplies would be needed.

“Oh my. Are you injured?”

“No, but I’ve got a friend over who is.”

“What is their injury?”

“I’m not sure, but they’ve agreed to let you check the injury and provide treatment.”

“I see. I can be over in about an hour.”

She grinned. “Thank you, Alfred. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t let the others know.”

“Of course, Miss Gordon. I’ll see you later.”

Babs sighed as she hung up. She went back to washing the dishes. She had a feeling she knew why the siblings were wary of outside help. While the Meta Protection Act had been signed into effect a few years ago, that didn’t mean that metas were actually safe.

She’d just have to make sure they knew that she would protect them either way.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Escape

whumptober24 day 30- recovery fandom- spiderman tw- mentioned injuries summary- Peter needs to escape

masterlist ao3 part 3 of SW

Peter is exhausted and everything hurts. His suit is in tatters from all the places Norman has cut it away to get at his skin. Peter feels that he has taken samples from everywhere. His whole body stings. Peter’s not sure how many cuts litter his body, how many bruises, but it sucks. 

The room is dark now. Norman’s left for the night. Or what Peter thinks is the night. He has to get out and it has to be now before he’s too injured to move.

There are restraints around his wrists, ankles, waist and chest. Peter grits his teeth as he dislocates his thumb and slips his hand out of the restraint. He pants through his nose as he uses the table to push his thumb back into its socket. It hurts, but he needs to keep going. He dislocates his other thumb to free his remaining hand.

He works to remove the muzzle first, moving his jaw around to try to soothe the ache from it being pressed closed for so long. 

He glances to the side, barely making out the table with tools that Norman left close by. He reaches for it and just manages to snag a scalpel.

With his chest restrained to the table, he can’t see what he’s doing, but he jabs at the restraint around his waist, trying to find a seam, anything to get it off. He feels the knife slice into his side, and he hisses in pain but keeps going.

He pries the scalpel between the restraint and the table, sliding the scalpel along the seam where the two connect. Finally, he feels some give, and he’s able to use his strength to pry it the rest of the way off.

He does the same for the restraint around his chest, and then he’s able to sit up and free his legs.

He’s cut himself a few times with the scalpel when it would slip as he worked it between the table and the restraints, but he can’t stop.

He pushes himself off the table, looking around the room. He spots his mask lying on another table, and he slips it on before heading to the only door.

The lights are off in the rest of the building, and he continues as quietly and quickly as he can. He just needs to find a window.

Every movement hurts, and he’s leaving bloody footprints, but he can’t stop.

He doesn’t know how many turns he takes before he comes to a staircase. He hesitates. There haven’t been any cameras so far, but that’s probably because he’s down in Norman’s more secret labs. But there’ll probably be security cameras as he makes his way up.

But he doesn’t have any other choice. Peter sighs before opening the door and making his way up the stairs as quickly as he can, his eyes scanning for cameras.

He sees one when he exits the stairway, but thankfully there’s a window. Peter almost sobs in relief. He breaks the window, getting more cuts from the glass as he climbs out onto the side of the building holding on with his sticky grip. He can feel the biting wind through all the tears in his suit, but he keeps going till he makes it to the roof.

That’s when he remembers he doesn’t have his web slingers. But there’s nothing for it but to jump between buildings. It hurts just as much as everything else does, but Peter makes it several buildings away before he finally collapses. He tries to get back up. Goblin could still find him here, but his arms shake, and he collapses back onto the roof. He stares up at the polluted New York sky. 

His breathing is coming slower, and he’s fighting against the urge to close his eyes when he sees something bright in the sky. It looks like a star except that it’s coming closer. Peter wants to figure out what it is, but his eyelids are getting heavier and he can’t stay awake anymore.

—--

Later Peter will wake up confused and frightened at being in an unfamiliar place. But then the Fantastic Four will come in. They'll tell him how Johnny found him collapsed on a roof, and he brought him back for medical attention.

Peter will be frightened at first, and the adult heroes wary of this vigilante who keeps his identity secret. But Johnny and Peter will quickly become friends, exchanging sarcastic comments and terrible puns.

And Peter will have someone he can rely on, a team he can call when he is in over his head, and a fellow teenage superhero who he can hang out with.

Peter won’t be alone anymore.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Exhaustion

whumptober24 day 29- fatigue, burn out, 'who said you could rest' fandom- batman tw- Dick is hurting but there's no graphic violence summary- Dick is hurting and exhausted

masterlist ao3 part 3 of Apprentice

Dick was exhausted. After Slade had dragged him back, he had barely given him time to bandage his legs before forcing Dick into a spar that felt more like a beat down. Then Slade had Dick continue ‘training’ with a holographic training simulator whose plans Slade had clearly stolen from the Justice League.

Dick didn’t know how long he spent fighting pretend enemies before he realized that Slade was no longer in the room. Quickly he made his way over to the controls and paused the program. He just needed to rest for a little bit. He’d turn it on as soon as he heard Slade coming. He just needed to sit down for a little bit, close his eyes for a second.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew his scalp was burning as Slade tugged him to standing using his hair. Dick cried out, too tired to keep quiet.

“Who said you could rest?” Slade said, his voice deathly quiet.

Dick said nothing. Slade was holding him up by his hair, and Dick’s feet barely touched the ground. Everything hurt, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep going before he passed out.

Slade dropped him, and Dick collapsed to the floor panting, black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

“Keep going.”

“Slade, I don’t think…I don’t know how much longer I can keep up.” Dick’s voice barely came out as a whisper. He kept his gaze on the ground.

“It doesn't matter what you think. I’m telling you to keep going, so you’re going to keep going. Or do you want me to pay your brother a visit?”

Dick shuddered. He pushed himself to his feet. His whole body was trembling. As Slade restarted the program, Dick shakily raised his fists. He had to keep going.

—-

“Has there been any sign of him yet?” Jason asked, leaning over Tim’s shoulder to look at the batcomputer.

“Not yet,” he answered. “Slade hasn’t been spotted anywhere and neither has Dick.”

“It’s been a month.”

“I know!” Tim said, glaring at his older brother. “I’m trying.”

Jason slumped. “I know. Sorry.”

Tim sighed. “Is Bruce still out?”

“Yeah. Cass went out to drag him back.”

Tim ran a hand over his face. “Any news from Clark?”

“No. He’s searched the surrounding area of where Dick was last seen, but he said he’d expand the search. And as soon as we spot either of them we can call him.” Jason shifted on his feet. “It’s…” he hesitated. “It’s not your fault.”

Tim didn’t respond.

Jason sighed. “I’m heading up. Don’t stay up too late, or I’ll send Alfred for you.”

Tim grunted, not taking his eyes off the computer. Jason looked at him for a moment longer before heading up to the manor.

“Please by okay, Dickie.” Jason whispered to himself. “Please come back home soon.”

[aprocessionofthoughts]

A Parent's Love

whumptober24 day 28- denial fandom- dp x dc tw- neglect summary- Their parent's love them

masterlist ao3 part 8 of TFR

Barbara waited at the bus stop, tapping her fingers against her knee. The bus was supposed to arrive in about ten minutes. She’d been waiting here for about twenty already. Jazz had called a few minutes ago to say they were almost in Gotham. She tapped idly at her phone looking through her recent texts. 

They had all wondered why she couldn’t be on comms tonight and what she was doing, but she had just said she wasn’t feeling well. She didn’t want to tell them that she was going to be looking after some kids. Tim was the only one who knew she’d been looking for them, and she’d like to keep it that way for now.

She didn’t want to overwhelm the kids, and the bats could be very overwhelming. She’d let the kids settle in first, make sure to tell the bats that she’d be absent for a few days, and blackmail them so that they’d actually leave her alone. Because as soon as she mentions kids, Bruce will be pulling up adoption paperwork and everyone else will be their nosy, annoying selves. 

The bus ended up being nearly an hour late, which wasn’t surprising considering Gotham traffic and all the detours due to rogue attacks.

She watched strangers step off the bus, and then, finally, Jazz and Danny exited. They were both wearing baggy hoodies with the hoods pulled up and carrying backpacks. Babs could see the shadows of bruises beneath their hoods, and the way they were moving indicated they were in pain, Danny more so than Jazz. Though, Babs noticed, he was better at hiding it.

“Welcome to Gotham.” she said.

Jazz smiled weakly at her, but Danny kept his head tilted down though his gaze darted around.

“Come on,” Babs said, “my car’s this way.”

They followed silently behind her. Silently enough that had Babs not had bat training she wouldn’t have been able to hear them. Or hear Jazz at least. She couldn’t hear Danny’s footsteps.

She wasn’t sure what to say to them. She had training to help victims, but this felt different. 

“Are you guys hungry? It’s nearly lunchtime. We can stop by somewhere on the way to my apartment, or I can make some quick soup.”

After a moment of silence, Jazz answered. “Soup sounds good, if you don’t mind. But we’re good with anything.”

“We’ll do soup then.” she responded as they climbed into the car and she wheeled herself into the driver’s seat.

Once they got to her apartment she offered them the use of her first aid kit and the privacy of the guest room, letting them know that they could shower if they wanted. Meanwhile she went to make soup. She kept it simple with some veggies, potatoes, noodles, and some shredded chicken. She didn’t know how long it had been since they had last eaten a good meal. She worried that it had been a lot longer than either of them would easily admit.

She’d have to push a little bit though, try to find out what had happened, who had hurt them, and if they were still in danger. But that could wait until after they had eaten.

She focused on the soup as she heard the shower turn on. It wouldn’t do her or the kids any good to spiral while thinking about all the worst case scenarios.

The soup was done cooking by the time the siblings came out. Jazz was wearing a simple long sleeve shirt while Danny was practically drowning in a large hoodie with a spiderweb design. She could see the bruises on their faces clearer now and note how stiffly they moved.

She served them bowls of soup and let them eat most of it before she started. “I’m sorry, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but there are some questions I do need answers to.”

Across from her, the siblings stiffened. She kept talking before they could get too nervous.

“Do either of you need professional medical attention?”

“No.” Danny bit out almost before she finished speaking. “No hospitals.”

“Ok.” she said. “But just so you know, I’m friends with a doctor who has her own clinic. Or I know a man who was a combat medic. He’s practically my best friend’s grandpa. Both of them would keep your secrets.”

“Thank you, we’ll consider it.” Jazz said after a pause.

Babs nodded. “Okay, so for the next question I want you to remember that no matter what your answer is, you will be safe here. I’ll do everything I can to protect you. But I do need to know if there's anyone who might be coming after you.”

Jazz stiffened and Danny flinched. They were silent for a moment before Danny responded, his voice barely above a whisper. “There might be. I don’t know though. I’m not sure if… when they’d be able to, or even if they’d be able to. There are some… people I can ask.”

Babs smiled gently. “We’ll try to contact them later then. Can you tell me who might come after you?” she asked even though she was afraid she already knew the answer.

The siblings glanced at each other. Danny shrugged.

“Is it…” she started, “is it your parents?” It would be better to get the hard truths laid out. Barbara had always been blunt. She could be gentle if she needed to be. But it would be easier to make plans if she knew who she'd be fighting.

Jazz flinched while Danny froze, his grip on his spoon tightening.

“They love us.” Danny said with the desperation of someone trying to convince themselves. “They just don’t understand.”

Babs fought to keep her expression even. It wouldn’t do to make them think she was pitying them.

“Danny…” Jazz started.

“They love us.” Danny interrupted. “They just don’t get it. We just need to make them understand.”

Jazz’s expression was pained as she set a hand on her brother’s shoulder.

“They may love us,” Jazz said, “but they still hurt us.”

“They just don’t understand.”

“I know.”

“Why can’t they just believe us?” Danny said, his eyes wet.

“I don’t know.”

“I just…” Danny started, before biting his lip.

Jazz pulled him into her side, wrapping her arms around him. 

“They love us.” Danny whispered again. “They wouldn’t have done it if they didn’t love us.”

Jazz’s lip wobbled, and she closed her eyes. “I know, little brother. I know. They love us. But… but they still hurt us.”

Danny sniffled. 

After a moment of the siblings just holding each other, Babs spoke up. 

“I’ll keep you safe. They won’t be able to touch you here.”

They didn’t really look like they believed her, and she knew a promise like that was impossible to keep. But she wouldn’t stop until she could guarantee that these kids wouldn’t be hurt by their parents again.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Trapped

whumptober24 day 27- voiceless, muzzled fandom- spiderman tw- light torture, nothing graphic summary- Peter is trapped

masterlist ao3 part 2 of SW

When Peter wakes up it’s to absolute darkness. Where… He tries to sit up, but finds that he can hardly budge.

He’s wide awake now. He tries to sit up again, pulling at the restraints around his body. He tugs harder using some of his spider strength, but still nothing.

His breathing starts to get faster as his struggles become more frantic. Just as he thinks he might pass out from the panic, light fills the room and he hisses as he closes his eyes.

“Time to wake up, Mr. Parker.”

Peter stills finally realizing that while he can still feel his suit, there is no mask on his face.

He turns his head towards the voice, panic making his eyes wide and his breathing fast and shallow. It’s not helped by who sees.

“Mr. Osborne.” Peter says ashamed that his voice comes out thready and panic filled. “What’s going on?”

The older man comes to a stop by Peter’s side, and he realizes that he must be chained to a table or something. His heart starts to beat faster as he takes in the rest of the room. It’s full of medical supplies and other scientific equipment Peter doesn’t recognize.

“You’re here to help me out with something, Peter.” Norman tilts his head, and Peter’s panic spikes at the look in the man’s eyes. Peter hates the Goblin more than he hates Norman, but he hates this inbetween state more. Like this the insanity of the Goblin is balanced by the scientific precision of Norman, but neither have ever had very many morals. He also hates it more because like this Peter can’t deny that his best friend's dad wants him dead or worse. Norman was a man he looked up to once. Peter had wanted to work at Oscorp when he graduated. He had shared meals with the man when Peter would visit Harry. He had helped pay Aunt May’s medical bills. But like this, with Norman teetering on the edge of falling into the Goblin, Peter can’t help but see the monster inside him.

“Help you with what?” Peter asks, trying to sink more into his Spiderman persona. It’s always more difficult with Norman, especially without the mask to hide behind. Peter will admit to himself that he’s not good at controlling his facial expressions. That’s one of the reasons he wears a mask. Like this, he needs to be so careful what expressions he’s showing. He doesn’t want Norman to see how much he scares Peter.

“You’re an anomaly, Peter. The way the spider DNA bonded to yours is fascinating. And no matter how many times I’ve tried, no matter how many test subjects I’ve gone through. The results aren’t the same.”

Norman brings his hand to Peter’s head and runs his fingers through Peter’s hair. He tries to flinch away, but the hand just follows him.

“You’re going to help me do marvelous things, my boy. Together we can advance the field of science and create superhumans. Imagine what I could do if I could just understand what makes you tick.” 

The hand in his hair tightens, pulling. Peter bites his cheek to keep from crying out. He tastes blood.

“You’ve already tried this.” Peter tries. “It doesn’t work. Just let me go, Norman, and we can forget all about this.”

“Hmn. I don’t think so.” 

He retreats to a table with medical equipment on it and picks up a remote. Peter watches as he presses a button, and then pain shoots through Peter. Electricity courses through him, and his body jolts. He bites through his lip, trying to keep quiet. Finally after what feels like minutes, but was probably only seconds, it ends. Peter lies gasping, his eyes wide and fingers twitching.

Norman chuckles. “Just to let you know what happens if you resist.”

“I’m not…” Peter gasps for breath, “I’m not going to just let you… experiment on me.” 

Peter doesn’t see it, but Norman presses the button again, and this time Peter can’t hold back his scream. He’s panting by the time it stops. Black dots cloud his vision.

Norman is standing over him again, his gaze intense. “You really shouldn’t wear a mask, Peter. It’s so much better to see all the lovely expressions you make.” He trails his fingers along the side of Peter’s face, and Peter doesn’t have the energy to twist his face away. “Now don’t worry. We’ll start small.” 

He picks up a pair of scissors and a syringe. He grabs Peter’s arm, squeezing tight enough to bruise as he uses the scissors to cut away at the arm of Peter’s suit.

“Hey! That material’s not cheap!” Peter says, trying desperately to get into the Spiderman persona. “At least…” he starts before stopping. Buy a man a drink first, he thinks but is afraid to say. “Besides, I’m all up to date on my vaccinations. No need for that needle.”

“Quiet, Peter. As much as I enjoy hearing you scream, I could do with less of the sarcasm. It does your intellect no good to fall back on such ridiculous comebacks.”

“Creep.” Peter says, and only has a second to wonder why Norman steps away, before lightning jolts through his body again.

He doesn’t know how long it lasts, but his throat is sore from screaming, and tears are running down his face.

“Hnn. We’ll have to do something about that mouth of yours. I won’t be able to work if I have to keep shocking you.”

“You could…” Peter gasps for breath, “you could not.” Another jolt runs through him, and darkness steals his vision. When he comes to, blinking spots out of his eyes, he feels a sharp pain in his arm. He cries out and finds his voice muffled. He can’t open his mouth. There’s something keeping it shut. He panics, thrashing his head from side to side, but nothing happens.

“Calm down, Peter. It’s just a muzzle to keep you quiet while I work.”

Calm down? How is he supposed to calm down?! Peter can’t– He can’t– It’s too much. Tears come to his eyes again, and he can’t do anything to prevent them from falling.

“Hush, little spider.” a hand wipes the tears from his face, and Peter shudders in revulsion, yet he can’t help but lean into the kind touch. He hates himself for it. “This is for the greater good. Isn’t that what you’re always talking about?”

There is another sharp pain in his arm, and Peter can’t stop a whine from building in his throat. No one knows he’s here. He has no team. He has no one.

He’s trapped.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Nightmare

whumptober24 day 26- nightmare fandom- dp x dc tw- implied dissection summary- Danny has a nightmare and Babe gets a call

masterlist ao3 part 7 of TFR

The figures above him are nothing but shadows, except for the eyes. They glow bright red, big and shining and round. Shining eyes in shadowy figures.

Their voices are static in his ears, their movement stilted and wrong. 

There is pain. So much pain.

Danny knows the figures, but it doesn't make sense. These people aren’t supposed to cause him pain, so surely they’re not who he thinks they are.

There is a blade slicing his chest and stomach open. There are hands inside of him, tugging at his ribs, his organs, searching, always searching.

He can hear whispers. They tell him they’re helping, they’re freeing him, they love him. But how can that be? How can these people who are causing him so much pain love him?

The pain gets sharper as their figures distort, becoming more monstrous. Danny tries to scream, but someone has taken his mouth. He can make no sound. He is nothing. He is just a body strapped to a table with a knife in his chest.

Reality blurs again, and now he’s watching a figure with red fire for hair fight the monsters, but they are too strong. They’re hitting the fiery red figure. Danny tries to move, but he doesn’t have a body anymore. He can’t scream. He can’t move. He can’t—

“Danny!”

Someone was shaking him, and he gasped sitting up. Blankets pooled around his waist. He was panting and covered in sweat. He looked around desperately. Where were they? Where was he? Where was the table? Where was—

Someone grabbed his hands. “Breathe, Danny.”

He gasped before dissolving into a coughing fit. Someone was rubbing his back. 

Jazz.

Jazz was here.

They’d gotten out. They were free.

Tears streamed down his face, and he started to sob. Arms wrapped around him, and Jazz rested her head on top of his.

“Shhh… you’re okay, Danny. You’re okay. We’re safe. We’re okay. We got out. We’re in a hotel in Wellsburge. We’re safe. We’re okay.” 

Jazz kept whispering reassurances to him until Danny’s breathing evened out. He sniffled, and Jazz passed him a tissue. Her face was also wet with tears.

“What time is it?” he croaked out.

“A little past four in the morning. I’ll call Babs in another two hours. Then we’ll get tickets and start heading to Gotham.”

Danny nodded before flopping back into bed. He didn’t close his eyes. He didn’t want to fall asleep again. Without saying a word, Jazz turned the TV on, the volume at the lowest setting. Sitting quietly in the dark, they watched reruns of an old western show.

—-

Barbara was just clocking into work at the library when her phone rang. It wasn’t a number she recognized, but she answered as she started getting the library ready for patrons.

“Hello this is Barbara, how may I help you?”

There was silence on the other end. Babs could barely make out someone breathing.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Barbara.”

Babs froze. She recognized that voice.

“Jazz?”

She could hear Jazz sniffling. 

“What’s wrong?”

“We… we need help.” Jazz took a shuddering breath. “Can we stay with you for a little bit? It won’t be long. I promise! We just need somewhere to be for a little bit. And if you can't, that's okay. We can find somewhere—”

“Jazz, breathe.” Babs cut in. She put the phone on speaker as she activated her program to trace calls. “It’s okay. You can stay with me. That’s totally fine.”

“Are you sure?” Jazz’s voice sounded wobbly, and Babs closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Of course I’m sure. I said I’d help you, and I will. Can you get to Gotham on your own, or do you need me to pick you up.” She stared down at her phone, the call was coming from Wellsburge. She tried not to be disappointed that the call hadn't led back to wherever it was that Jazz and Danny really lived. They had called her. They were coming to Gotham. They needed help. That was all that mattered.

Jazz sniffled again. “We can get bus tickets.”

“Okay, that’s good.” She kept her voice steady, reassuring. “Are either of you injured?” 

Jazz didn’t answer, and Babs closed her eyes. The silence spoke for itself. 

“Mostly Danny, but I’m a little hurt too.” Jazz finally said.

“Will you be able to make it here okay?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. Have you already gotten the tickets?”

“Yes. We’re leaving for the bus stop in an hour.”

“That’s good. I want you to call me when you get on the bus, okay? Let me know when you get close to Gotham so that I can come pick you up. And if you need it, let me know before too. I don’t mind driving out there to get you.”

“Okay.”

Babs sighed. She activated her program that would virally install a tracker in Jazz’s phone. It beeped, and she frowned down at it. The virus hadn’t been able to install in Jazz’s phone. She huffed. That was a problem for later. She focused back on the conversation.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

Jazz hesitated. “No. I think we’re good.”

“Okay. Call me for whatever reason, alright? I’ll answer.”

Jazz sniffled. “Okay.” There was silence for a moment. “Thank you, Barbara.” The dial tone sounded.

She stared down at her phone for a moment more. Then she texted the batchat that she wouldn’t be able to be on comms tonight. 

Tim could take over for tonight.

She had other things to take care of.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Readying to Storm the Castle

whumptober24 day 25- surgery fandom- Danny phantom tw- non graphic dissection (it's only in the last section if you want to skip it) summary- the crew make plans

masterlist ao3 part 9 of SIANT

Valerie doubted them at first, but after showing her proof and explaining Danielle Valerie finally, grudgingly believed them. She was still angry, she couldn’t bring herself to completely let go of her resentment toward Phantom. But she’d do this for Danny, the boy she’d briefly dated, who she still considered a friend. She’d help rescue him, then punch him for keeping secrets. Then when he was safe and she’d extracted an explanation from him, could she start working out all her complicated feelings.

They had set to planning then. They needed to figure out a way to get past the GIW blockade. 

Only after they’d figured out a way out could they start to plan a route to the facility and a plan on how to break Danny out.

“Would they let you through if you’re chasing a ghost?” Sam asked Val.

She shook her head. “No. I tried that, but they just said they’d take care of it.” she sighed, letting herself fall back onto Sam’s bed. 

They had all gathered at Sam’s house since she had the most room, and her parents were less likely to bother them.

Jazz fidgeted with the Fenton booo-merang. They’d be able to use it once they got closer to the location. Tucker had figured out the town, but the facility was probably hidden. 

Jazz was biting her lip, her gaze distant.

Tucker was on his computer trying to see what other information he could extract from the GIW servers.

“Could we just blast through?” Valerie asked.

“We’d need a lot of fire power.” Tucker said from his position in front of his laptop.

“I’ve got a lot of fire power.” Valerie said.

Sam hummed. “We’d need to find a good spot to attack. After you blast their lines, we’d need to be ready to drive through immediately. And we’d have to figure out a way to lose them and stay off their radar.”

“I’ve got something that can scramble their tracking systems.” Jazz spoke up. “My parents meant for it to track ghosts.” She rolled her eyes. “But of course it just messes with other tracking systems.”

“And I can drive the Fenton RV.” Sam said.

Tucker shuddered without taking his eyes on his computer screen. Sam was almost as reckless of a driver as Jack Fenton, except that while Jack drove like a blind folded monkey, Sam drove like a monster truck driver at a Monster Jam.

Valerie nodded. “Okay, I’ll have to ask my… benefactor for more weapons.”

Sam snorted. “You mean Vlad.”

Valerie froze for a moment before frowning and rolling her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sam said. “Jazz, if you could ready the RV with weapons and… first aid supplies, Tucker and I will gather the equipment we have stashed. Let’s try to be ready by tomorrow evening. We’ll strike near the end of the guards’ shift when they’re the most tired and before their replacements come.”

They all nodded, feeling their nerves settle at finally having a plan.

Hold on, Danny, Sam though. We’re coming.

—-

Danny whimpered as he stared at the bright light above him. He could feel hands tugging at his chest and abdomen. It hurt. It hurt so much. He closed his eyes as he felt hands grabbing at things inside him.

There was a whir, and Danny felt tears streaming down his face. He closed his eyes tighter as they brought the bone saw down on his ribs. He screamed behind the muzzle.

His ribs didn’t have nerve endings, he shouldn’t be able to feel this. He wouldn’t if he was human. But he was a ghost. A ghost with a messed up biology.

He could feel everything.

Every tug at an organ, every slice as another one was cut out, every snap of bone, every exploring hand.

It hurt. Danny felt himself drifting off, his consciousness dropping away, making it feel like he was floating. He was still aware of what was going on, but it was more distant. It didn’t hurt as much. It felt like he was a mere observer. As if all this was happening to someone else. 

This was good. This was so much better. He wished he could stay in this floating state forever.

A knife sliced into him again, but this time he could barely feel it.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

A Wayne or not a Wayne

whumptober24 day 24- radiation poisoning fandom- dp x dc tw- none summary- time to tour Wayne enterprises

masterlist ao3 part 3 of APvG

Danny sighed as they entered the last big business they’d be touring for the week. After this, it was a few more museums and landmarks and free time which they’d already decided was going to be spent exploring the major villains’ big bad hideouts like the Iceberg Lounge, Toxic Acres, and Ivy’s current hideout at the Botanical Gardens. 

But first they had to make it through a boring building tour. Well, Tucker and Wes were excited, though for different reasons. Tucker thought he might want to work here since it was one of the places with the best tech and was also one of the more ethical big corporations. Wes was excited because he wanted to see if he could spot more proof about the connection between the Waynes and the Bats.

But everyone else was bored. Well, at least they were until they got to one of the upper floors where a bunch of people were working at desks, and the employees stared at Danny.

Danny fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Do I have something on my face?” He whispered to Sam.

“Just your usual dorkish expression.”

Danny pouted. The employees started whispering amongst themselves.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it, Danny could hear them clearly.

“They think I’m a new Wayne kid.” Danny muttered. Stupid, smelly henchman thinking he was a Wayne was one thing, but wasn’t everyone here supposed to be really smart? Not to say henchmen weren’t smart, Danny didn’t judge people’s intelligence by their job unless they were stupid Fruitloops (cough cough Vlad cough), but still. He thought the people working at Wayne enterprises were supposed to be geniuses. And they should know the Waynes! Why would they think Danny was one?

His classmates started snickering as the ones with enhanced hearing whispered to the others about what the employees were saying. Sometimes the fact that most Amity Parkers were liminal made Danny’s life much more miserable. 

“Didn’t know you had a second secret identity, Mr. Wayne.” Wes whispered to him.

Danny scowled and subtly froze Wes’s sneakers to the ground.

He yelped as he fell forward and scowled at Danny who smirked back.

The tour guide continued on completely ignoring the class who had stopped to laugh and whisper amongst themselves. To be fair, they were completely ignoring the tour guide too. 

“If you’ll follow me this way,” the guide said motioning to a set of elevators, “we’ve got one more stop to make before the end of the tour. And we’ve got a big surprise for you.” (This last part was said with all the enthusiasm one might show at their friend’s ant farm’s funeral when you were the one who accidentally knocked the thing over and then promptly accused the cat who’d been licking its own booty at the time. That is to say, the tour guide was not very excited and spoke in such a deadpan way that would make dead guys jealous.)

Before they could click the button to summon the elevator, the doors opened and out walked a sleep deprived, black haired individual holding a large ceramic coffee mug that looked like it could hold a gallon of the precious life juice.

“That’s Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne!” Tucker hissed excitedly, his inner tech geek coming through at the sight of his idol and secret rival. (Tucker prided himself in making all of Amity’s tech, since most normal technology wouldn’t work in Amity due to the ectoradiation, but a boy could still admire a fellow tech genius.)

“Wow. Danny really does look like a Wayne.” Paulina whispered to Star.

“Are you sure Danny’s not actually related?” Sam asked. “They both look like they get no sleep and drink enough coffee to kill a small country.”

“Sleep’s for–” Danny started.

“The dead.” the class chorused with an abundance of over exaggerated eye rolls.

Danny pouted.

In front of them, Tim Drake was staring at Danny. He squinted his eyes. Danny squinted back. Tim tilted his head to the side. Danny mirrored him at the exact same time. Tim blinked, so did Danny. Tim took a sip of his coffee. Danny took a sip of his pretend coffee. (He wished it was real but he wasn’t stupid enough to actually make a wish even this far from Amity. You never knew where Desiree was.)

Tim shook his head, muttering under his breath about needing more espresso shots before he walked away.

The class had frozen at the strange exchange, but promptly burst into laughter as the older teen left.

—

On one of the top floors, in a recently vacated office, an alert sounded on the computer.

RADIATION DETECTED

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Search

ectoberweek24 day 7- ectology tw- none summary- Sam and Tucker keep searching for more information

masterlist ao3 part 7 of AHINWTG

Sam dragged Tucker to the library. She was exhausted. She had hardly been sleeping. It seemed that every night was another nightmare, but she couldn’t remember what they were about when she woke up. She couldn’t count how many times she had thrown the planchet out the window, burned it to ash, buried it, tossed it in the pond at the park, or otherwise tried to destroy it. But each morning, it was back on her desk.

She still hadn’t been able to make herself open the file they’d stolen from the school.

She dragged Tucker to the library’s basement where they kept all the old records no one really cared about, but the library still kept for some reason. At least, it was helpful to them now.

“Sam, what are we doing here?” Tucker asked. “On a Saturday. We’re supposed to be relaxing, playing video games and eating junk food.”

“You mean doing homework, which you’re going to procrastinate anyway. So stop complaining and start looking through the newspapers and other files for any mention of the Fentons.

Tucker grumbled, but started going through boxes filled with what looked like random papers.

An hour went by and still they had found nothing.

“Saaaammm!” Tucker said, collapsing dramatically on the floor where he had been sitting going through a file box. “This is boooring.”

Sam said nothing. Her movements were just as quick and focused as they had been when they had first started searching. She needed to figure things out, she needed to know what was going on, otherwise she’d go mad with the lack of sleep.

“Keep looking. I’ll buy you Nasty Burger for lunch.” she said, already grimacing at having to spend money on meat.

Tucker perked up and kept searching.

Another hour went by, and Tucker had started to fidget. He was going through files much slower than Sam. He was about to complain or ask for a break or anything really to break up the monotony when Sam stood up suddenly.

“I found something.” she said, walking over a desk in the basement corner and shoving some dusty files to the floor. Tucker winced but leaned over to see the article that Sam was pointing to.

It was just a small article talking about an accident that had happened in the park. It stated that the Fentons claimed they had been testing one of their inventions which had apparently decided to explode. The article treated this like a common occurrence going on to note that no one had been hurt this time.

They returned to their search with more vigor, finding three more articles. One had to do with the Fentons wanting to construct some strange addition to their house, but that the housing committee had stopped them. Another was an article about how their daughter, Jazz, had won an academic award. 

The third paper looked like someone had spilled ink on it. They could only make out part of the article which said something about the youngest Fenton making a discovery about a gorilla that was being temporarily kept at the zoo a few towns over. The picture and his name were blotted out with ink.

They searched for a bit longer but found nothing more.

As they sat eating at Nasty Burger Sam’s expression stayed puzzled.

“What’s wrong?” Tucker asked.

“I couldn’t find any mention about the Fenton parents deaths, or anything else about them. I checked all the obituaries. But I couldn't find any mention of them. And there was also a whole year’s worth of newspapers missing.”

“You’re looking too much into it Sam. The library probably just lost the box, and the newspaper might have forgotten to publish the obituaries.”

“Maybe.” Sam muttered. But she didn’t look convinced. Something was strange, and she would just have to keep looking.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Meet My Clone Sister

ectoberweek24 day 6- two sentence tw- none summary- the Hogwarts trio meets Ellie

masterlist ao3 part 2 of CvH

They had been in Amity a week and everything still seemed extremely weird. And it wasn’t just the classes. It was also the fact that they used electricity and other muggle tech. And all around the town there were signs of magic. It was so strange to see signs of magic in what looked like a muggle environment. 

Harry kept waiting for aurors to show up to obliviate everyone.

And the classes taught at Casper made him and Ron uncomfortable, and Hermione was always bordering on arguing about the content. Harry didn’t struggle as much. He hadn’t grown up believing blood magic and necromancy were evil like Ron, and he hadn’t delved into studying all things about British magical history like Hermione.

But of course, Harry’s life was never simple.

“Is that your sister?” Harry asked, pointing to a girl who looked about two years younger than Danny, although they looked like they could be twins. They were at lunch and Harry was trying not to think too hard about what was in the food. He definitely preferred Hogwarts meals. He had seen the girl before and been curious. 

“Ellie? No. She’s my clone sister.”

“What?” Hermione asked, dropping her spoon.

“Oh yeah. There’s this creep that wants to kill my dad, marry my mom, and take me as his son. Since we kept refusing he tried to clone me.” Danny smiled at his…sister. She waved at them, coming over.

“Hey, I’m Ellie. You guys are the visitors from the weird magic school, right?” she plopped down on the seat next to Danny, reaching over to steal one of his fries.

“And you’re a clone?” Hermione said, her eyes flickering between Danny and Ellie.

“Yup.” she said, stealing another fry from Danny. 

“What’s a clone?” Ron asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Hermione stared at him. 

“Well, you see,” Ellie started, and Danny snorted, “when a Fruitloop is so obsessed with having another woman’s son as his own, he takes some of his DNA, and makes a baby, that he then grows with magic till they’re about the right age, then he tells them that they’re meant to replace the original, but they’re too smart and decide they’d rather be the original’s sister, and they both beat up the Fruitloop.”

Harry stared at her incredulously. Beside him he could see Ron gaping, and Hermione opening and closing his mouth.

Across from them Danny rolled his eyes while Tucker and Sam laughed.

“That’s not quite how it happened.” Danny said. “But basically yeah.”

“You have a Dark Lord?” Hermione finally managed to say.

“He wishes he was a Dark Lord.” Danny said, chuckling.

“What even is a Dark Lord anywary.” Sam said, rolling her eyes. “Is it just someone who does magic you don’t agree with? What is it that makes someone a Dark Lord, and who gets to decide?”

“Sam,” Tucker interrupted, “let’s not get philosophical again.”

She huffed and crossed her arms but fell quiet.

“Besides, Vlad’s a Fruitloop, not a Dark Lord.” Danny said, rolling his eyes.

Hermione looked like she wanted to argue about the Dark Lord thing, but Ron elbowed her in the side. She glared at him, but picked up her spoon and angrily started eating again.

Harry decided to redirect the conversation. “So, why don’t you have Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

“What’s really considered dark?” Sam started, but Tucker spoke up quickly.

“I think we cover the same basic concepts when it comes to spellcrafting. And there’s classes on the different magical races–”

“The people you classify as creatures.” Sam interrupted, glaring.

Tucker continued as if she hadn’t spoken, which was probably for the best. “and their history and traditions. But that’s more of a social class. It’s still a required gen ed so we can be more aware of each other.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, sounding interested. “I wish they taught that at Hogwarts.”

Sam opened her mouth, probably to make another controversial comment, But Danny spoke over her.

“You can probably buy the textbooks to take back with you when you leave at the end of the semester.”

Harry relaxed, glad that it didn’t look like they’d be getting into another debate.

This was a strange place. But he was eager to learn more about magic, even if it was different than Hogwarts.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Casper vs Hogwarts

Ron, Harry, and Hermione visit the American wizarding School Casper High

this series doesn't really have a plot so updates will come as inspiration strikes

ao3

part 1- Exchange Students part 2- Meet My Clone Sister

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Sacrifice

ectoberweek24 day 5- two sentence tw- neglect summary- The Fentons are scientists

masterlist ao3 part 6 of AHINWTG

The Fentons were brilliant scientists. Or so they claimed. There was still no proof to all their theories, but they were persistent. They would have their proof. They’d show the world they had been right all along. Ghosts were real. Ghosts were evil.

And once they finally had a specimen, they would be able to discover how ghosts form and how to prevent ghosts from forming. Because who wanted to turn into an evil amalgamation of negative emotions?

So, they built weapons for creatures they hadn’t found yet, and published papers on topics hardly anyone believed. And they worked and worked and worked.

They had a little girl, but she was strong and independent. She could take care of herself. They needed to focus on their work. Afterall, someone had to be able to protect them from the evil ghosts. How better to care for their daughter than to work to defend her against threats?

Then they had a son, and that was okay too. They had always wanted two children, and this way Jazz could take care of little Danny so that they could focus on their work.

Once they’d proven their theories, once they’d defended the world against the threat ghosts posed, they’d spend more time with their children.

The years went by, and still they had no proof. At least both their children were independent now. 

They loved their kids. They did. But they needed to protect the world. And aren’t the many more important than the few? Sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.

And they were almost finished. They would be able to prove the existence of ghosts soon. And then they’d destroy the ghostly dimension and make sure no more ghosts were formed. No one would have to suffer from ghosts again. And the Fentons would finally receive the renown they were due.

They built their portal. But it didn’t work. They researched and they researched and they researched. They delved into the mystic texts that they’d previously tried to ignore. They were scientists. They didn’t believe in nonsense like magic and witchcraft. 

But the more they looked into it, the more they saw that all the texts said the same thing. They all required the same thing in order to breach the veil between the living and the dead.

They looked at each other then. They had to decide what was more important.

But wasn’t it obvious? They were doing this for the greater good. They needed to be willing to do whatever it took, to sacrifice whatever it took, to see their research through.

They asked him to come downstairs after school. They told him they needed his help. He had helped in the lab before, though usually it was just to clean. He was just happy to spend time with them.

They had him slip on a hazmat suit and asked him to check some of the wiring inside the portal. 

He stepped in, and they flipped the switch.

Green light filled the portal, and a scream echoed through the lab. 

It was working. The portal was opening. They couldn’t help but feel excited.

But then the light died as the scream did.

When the light had faded, all they could see was a lump near the edge of the portal.

They cursed. They had been so close. This was supposed to have worked. They had done everything right. They had double checked their blueprints and the portal itself. They had even given in and followed the ancient texts.

They frowned. There was only one factor that they hadn’t been in complete control of. The boy. He must have done something wrong for it not to have worked. And as they looked at the portal, their frustration mounted. The inside was singed, metal corroded and wires frayed. It would take them months to fix it.

At least they still had the girl.

They turned to leave the lab. They’d clean the mess up later. But then there was a groan, and they turned back to see the boy raise his head.

They told him it was an accident. His heartbeat was slow, but he seemed fine.

That’s why it hadn’t worked, they thought to themselves. The boy hadn’t really died. They’d have to try a slightly different approach next time. Maybe it would work if the sacrifice was already dead? But first they’d up the portal’s voltage. More electricity should do it.

Because a portal to the afterlife needed the sacrifice of something loved in order to open.

But they would never succeed. 

They didn’t love him enough for it to work.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Tick Tock

ectoberweek24 day 4- two sentence prompt tw- character death, blood summary- Danny hears a ticking coming from his chest

masterlist ao3

Ever since Danny’s encounter with Dan, who had shoved the medallion in his chest, Danny has felt different.

He rubs at his aching chest. He swears that sometimes it feels like it’s still there. Vlad had removed it. But it doesn’t feel like it.

It probably doesn’t help that his ghostly appearance has started to change. Frostbite says that it’s normal. That his core is still developing, and that Danny’s form will naturally change as he goes through what amounts to ghost puberty.

But that doesn’t mean Danny has to like it.

It had started simple at first, fangs and pointed ears developing. Then his skin tone had started to change. He refuses to look in a mirror when in ghost form. He looks too much like Dan.

Then his hair started to float. And that was okay. It made it look like he was floating in space. Then it looked more like fire than hair.

His friends try to reassure him, telling him that it doesn’t matter what he looks like. He isn’t Dan, and he wouldn’t turn into him because he had avoided the Nasty Burger Incident.

He doesn’t like going to Nasty Burger anymore either.

But they only say those things because he’s not being honest with them. He doesn’t tell them how it feels like the medallion is still in his chest. He doesn’t tell them that sometimes when he’s floating above the clouds by himself in the stillness of the night, he can hear a ticking. He had looked around at first before realizing that the ticking came from his chest. 

From his core.

And he has started having strange dreams.

Dreams of things he doesn’t remember but feels like he should.

They feel like memories, but they can’t be.

They were filled with destruction and grief and loneliness and regret.

Danny avoids sleeping as much as he can. His grades start to get worse. His friends are concerned, Mr. Lancer is frustrated, his parents… his parents don’t even realize. They’re too busy hunting down Phantom.

He doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want to dream anymore.

Danny comes home from school one day to see his parents sitting on the couch. They’re scowling at him.

“Danny, Mr. Lancer called us. He said you’re failing several classes.” his mom says, crossing her arms.

Danny’s only failing two, but he doesn’t think that will help his case.

“We’re very disappointed in you, Danny. You should be doing better.” His dad frowns at him.

“And if you’re struggling, you know you can come to your dad or me for help.”

Danny bites his cheek to keep from throwing angry words at them. When would he go to them for help? They’re always busy. He hardly even sees them anymore except for when they’re chasing him as Phantom. 

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, young man?” his dad asks.

“Sorry.” Danny grits out. “I’ll do better.”

“You will. From now until you get your grades up, you're grounded.” his mom says.

Danny wants to laugh. As if they’d notice if he left the house. They’ve never noticed before. They never notice when he comes back bruised and bleeding; they don't notice when he doesn’t come home at all.

“We’re also going to be meeting with your teacher.” she says, standing up. “We’ll be meeting with Mr. Lancer tomorrow after school.”

“Where?” Danny manages to ask through the fear gripping his heart. The ticking in his chest grows louder. 

“He’ll be coming here.” his dad says.

Danny relaxes a bit. At least it isn’t at the Nasty Burger.

The next day, Danny is waiting anxiously in their living room. His parents are still downstairs.

The doorbell rings and he lets Mr. Lancer in exchanging half hearted greetings. They wait in awkward silence for a few minutes before Danny stands up.

“I’ll go get them.”

He makes his way downstairs. He can hear his parents moving around, probably building some new weapon to hurt Phantom with, Danny thinks grimly.

“Mom, dad, Mr. Lancer’s here.” he calls out from halfway down the stairs. They don’t answer and Danny rolls his eyes as he continues down into the basement. The first thing he sees is something glowing red on one of the lab tables. He immediately doesn’t like it. 

“Mom, dad, Mr. Lancer’s here.” he says again, and this time they hear and start heading up the stairs, passing Danny and talking to each other about their latest invention.

Danny’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He sees a series of text from Tucker.

sup man sam got us inthrough your window jazz hearrd but worry not sam talked her into not snitchin when the adults are done we can go to sams

Danny smiles. With the promise of hanging out later, the meeting he’s going to now doesn’t feel that bad.

They’ve only just started talking, Danny distracted by the ticking in his core growing louder and faster though no one else seems to hear it, when Danny feels a pulse of energy. He frowns. The pulse of energy came from the basement. Is a ghost coming through? But his breath doesn’t fog, so what—

In a single moment reality tips from order into chaos. The ticking in Danny’s chest builds to a whine.

Then Danny is opening his eyes, coughing hard enough that he fears he’ll cough up his lungs. He squints, trying to peer through the smoke. There is rubble everywhere. Close by he sees—

Danny gags, retching. There are bodies. There is blood. There are limbs not attached to bodies.

Danny retches again, but nothing comes up.

Smoke and dust hang heavy in the air, and Danny wonders how he could possibly have survived whatever just happened. Why did he survive when—

There is a ringing in his ears that masks the near whine coming from the rapid ticking in his chest.

It is too much. He cannot handle this. He feels unconsciousness tugging at him, and he doesn’t resist.

It’s later that he finds out that there was an explosion in the basement. An explosion that then started a chain reaction with all the other dangerous things in the lab, ending with the portal erupting with the fury of untamable energy finally unleashed.

It decimated not only the Fentons' house, but the surrounding ones as well. There is death and injuries, and everyone is wondering how Danny survived.

Meanwhile, he wonders if he can even die again.

He feels empty, blank, he doesn’t resist the social workers guiding him into a car. He doesn’t process the fact that they’ve dropped him off at Vlad’s mansion. He doesn’t even remember why that’s a bad idea. At least not until it’s too late, and Vlad has placed a power canceling cuff around his wrist and a shield around the house that is logged onto Danny’s ectosignature so that he cannot even escape in human form.

He is trapped.

He spirals.

Vlad grows frustrated and then angry at Danny’s lack of accepting Vlad as his new father figure.

It is not even Danny’s idea this time.

It is Vlad who grows tired of Danny’s mopping. It is Vlad who chains Danny down onto a lab table, ignoring Danny’s pleas that sound like madness to Vlad.

Vlad who stands over him, ghosts gauntlets raised, before he plunges them into Danny’s chest. He pulls out Phantom. Phantom who without his human half does not know how to handle the grief that tears at his core. Who does not know how to handle the destruction of one of his obsessions. There is still space. But he can hardly think of that amidst the grief. 

Phantom flies into Vlad, tearing out Plasmius. Plasmius who is also suffering from a partially broken obsession.

Ghost cores are not meant to merge. They repel each other like magnets. But when two cores with such similar obsessions, that are both cracked and mourning come so close together, it is like the irresistible pull of magnets. But ghost cores are not meant to merge. And so two cores come together, but at the same time two cores both try to flee in different directions.

Madness is the only logical outcome.

Madness that seeks to consume everything in an effort to end its suffering. It will destroy everything. For maybe, when there are no more reminders, it will finally feel peace.

But the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Dreams

ectoberweek24 day 3- two sentence tw- none summary- Sam dreams

masterlist ao3 part 5 of AHINWTG

Sam dreams. She dreams of a black haired boy, but in her dreams she is the black haired boy. 

She dreams of school hallways filled with the blurry afterimages of people. She The boy is always alone. Friends are hard to make when your parents are crazy.

She dreams of a town, of a restaurant with a blurred out name. 

She thinks it might be the empty shell of a building that people say exploded killing several people.

The dream is washed out colors and sepia tones. It is a strange dream, but it is not a nightmare.

She approaches a building. Her house. An average townhouse. The house was a streak of gray in the midst of the washed out colors of the rest of the dream. She was inside the house now and it was hard to see, like she was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses inside.

Inside was a large orange figure and a slim teal one. They were blurred to the point where you could barely recognize them as people. Their color stood out starkly in the gray toned house. There was fear and longing and love and heartache and confusion and despair and a whirlwind of feelings when she looked at them.

But there was also another figure. One with red fire for hair and they were gentle and kind and love and loss and betrayal.

Then Sam was in a dark room with shadows flickering along the walls and eyes watching from the darkest corners. The room was cold and she was frozen in front of a hole in the wall. There were eyes there, watching her. Shadows flickering, waiting to grab her and pull her in. Then there was a shove and she was in the tunnel-like hole and there was lightning and pain and screaming and betrayal and pain and pain and pain and pain and pain and pain and pain and pain and so much pain and—

Sam gasped as she shot up in bed. She was gasping for breath, her eyes wide and unseeing. Her gaze flickered frantically around the room, not taking anything in except for the fact that she wasn’t in that dark room anymore. She wasn’t in that strange tunnel. She wasn’t in pain. Was she? No. She wasn’t. It was a dream. 

It was a dream.

She was shaking and her sheets were drenched in sweat.

She turned on her bedside lamp. She didn’t want to be in the dark right now. She hugged her knees to her chest. She kept looking around her room, gaze flickering to the corners expecting to see shadows curling out towards her.

It was a dream. She closed her eyes then quickly opened them again.

Already the dream was slipping away. She tried to hold on to it, but it was like dust floating away on the breeze. And did she really want to remember? It was important. She was sure of it. But was it? It was just a dream, afterall. A nightmare, but still just a dream.

She rested her head on her knees, letting herself take a moment to just breathe. Then she slid her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She needed a drink of water.

She walked over to her dresser and then stopped. 

There, where her glass of water should be, was the planchet.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Cornered

ectoberweek24 day 2- cornered tw- mentioned blood but nothing graphic summary- Danny tries to protect his friends

masterlist ao3 part 6 of GD

Danny ran after his friends. He was panting even though he was pretty sure he didn’t need to breathe anymore. But old habits were hard to kill. At least they didn’t need to worry about tripping over anything, but that also meant that the monster wouldn’t trip over anything either. He risked a glance over his shoulder and gulped. 

The beast was only a few yards behind them. They had already seen it tear a Spirit to shreds. Danny wouldn’t let that happen to his friends. He couldn’t.

He veered off in a different direction.

“Hey, lizard face! Over here!”

The beast snarled and started chasing Danny instead of his friends. Danny gritted his teeth, trying to quell his panic, and ran harder.

The creature was only about the size of a large dog, but that still meant that it came up to Danny’s chest. Not to mention, that it reminded Danny of the monsters from A Quiet Place but with a crocodile like head and two extra sets of limbs. It was more terrifying than any movie monster Danny had ever seen. But that might also be because it was chasing him.

Danny could hear his friends calling to him, but he ignored them. He sensed movement behind him, and he swerved to the side barely avoiding one of the creature’s clawed hands. 

Danny could see more light up ahead. He was approaching the edge of the Forest. Soon he wouldn’t be able to run any farther. 

He reached the edge of the trees and spun around, feeling the barrier at his back. He wished, how he wished, that he could run past the trees, but the barrier at the edge of the Forest kept them all in. It didn’t keep the creatures in though. Did the barrier keep them from coming back in? So far, none of the creatures who had left the Forest had come back. 

The creature had stopped running, simply observing Danny and emitting a low growl.

“Come on!” Danny yelled. “Come at me!” 

The monster snarled, standing up on its hind legs, and if Danny still had a heart it would have stopped in fright.

Then the creature leapt at him and Danny dove out of the way. One of its claws sliced through Danny’s arm and he cried out. Danny climbed to his feet quickly, clutching at his arm as it started to bleed green. He stared out at the creature who had paused. It scented the air. It glanced back at Danny, and he froze, getting ready to run again. But it scented the air again, turning its snout towards the direction of Amity. Then it settled down onto all its limbs and started running towards town.

Danny collapsed onto the ground. He closed his eyes. His arm hurt, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He had saved himself and his friends, but he had sent the creature towards town where it might hurt someone else.

But what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t fight back. He didn’t have any weapons. He didn’t have any way to fight back, to protect himself and his friends.

“Danny!” Sam and Tucker rushed to him.

“Why did you do that?” Sam said, barely holding herself back from punching his shoulder.

“I had to get it away.” Danny said.

“We could have gotten away together. Then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt!” Sam said, her voice verging on the point of yelling.

“Yeah, man. Don’t sacrifice yourself like that. We don’t want you to get hurt.” Tucker said.

Danny sighed. “Sorry.” he said, but he knew that he’d do it again. He’d do anything to protect his friends.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

In the Graveyard

ectoberweek24 day 1- graveyard shift fandom- dp x dc tw- none summary- Danny sees something unusual

masterlist ao3

Danny hums quietly to himself as he walks between the graves, picking up trash and wilted flowers. The moon is full tonight, and the sky isn’t too clouded which is nice, especially considering this is Gotham. He takes a bucket and rag and starts cleaning off the gravestones.

Of the two jobs he has, this was probably his favorite even though it hardly paid. But it’s peaceful, and they let him work at night. It’s also a way for Danny to spend his time since he doesn't need to sleep. He can. It was just… nightmares. He’d rather be here, earning a little bit of money then trying to sleep through memories of his time in the lab.

He’s almost done, ready to go back to his apartment and enjoy a cup of coffee and some late night t.v., but as he stands and starts heading towards the last row of gravestones he feels a shiver crawl up his spine. His breath clogs in his throat, and he feels his eyes flash.

There is something tugging at him, pulling him toward one of the graves he’s already passed. 

He follows the pull. It doesn't feel like a ghost, but there’s something there, something he can’t ignore. 

As he gets closer the pull gets stronger, and with rising fear he can see the dirt shifting on one of the graves. And like in a horror movie, a hand presses up out of the dirt.

Danny freezes for a moment, before jolting forward. He grasps the hand in his and pulls, using his intangibility to pull the person through the dirt. The boy, because the person can’t possibly be older than sixteen, collapses on the ground. Danny crouches by him, turning the boy over onto his back. The kid’s dressed in a fancy suit although it’s streaked with dirt, and Danny winces when he sees the kids fingers are bloody, fingernails torn.

He dug himself out.

Who would bury a child. Danny glances at the gravestone. According to the inscription the kid died six months ago. Danny feels the barest touches of ectoplasm, it shouldn’t be enough to turn someone liminal let alone raise someone from the dead. 

But none of that matters right now. He has to get the kid to his apartment. Danny doesn’t think he should take the kid to a hospital. They’ll ask too many questions that Danny won’t be able to answer. No. he’ll take the kid with him, treat his wounds and try to find out what happened. If the kid is liminal he might need Danny’s help with the side effects.

“Hey there, kid. I’m going to take you back to my apartment, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I promise. I’m going to help.” Danny glances at the gravestone again. He hopes that the kid can go back to his family, that they’ll accept him. But Danny won’t force it. He knows that sometimes families can’t accept when you’re different from what they want. 

But Danny can’t help but hope this kid’s, Jason according to the gravestone, family will be different. That they’ll be loving and accepting, all the things that Danny’s family wasn’t.

He picks the kid up, his eyes stare blankly up at Danny.

He’ll need some help coming back to himself. Danny will feed him some ectoplasm.

He’ll take care of him. 

Danny will make sure he’s safe, and that no one can hurt him.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Ectoberweek 2024 Masterlist

prompts ao3

In the Graveyard day 1- graveyard shift fandom- dp x dc tw- none summary- Danny sees something unusual

Cornered day 2- cornered tw- mentioned blood but nothing graphic summary- Danny tries to protect his friends

Dreams day 3- two sentence tw- none summary- Sam dreams

Tick Tock day 4- two sentence prompt tw- character death, blood summary- Danny hears a ticking coming from his chest

Sacrifice day 5- two sentence tw- neglect summary- The Fentons are scientists

Meet My Clone Sister day 6- two sentence tw- none summary- the Hogwarts trio meets Ellie

Search day 7- ectology tw- none summary- Sam and Tucker keep searching for more information