#DP fic

[fanaroff]

Above the Nasty Burger Ch. 4

Ao3 Link Here << Previous Ch. Next Ch. >>

Danny didn't like it. 

Not the Obsession part, he loved that. He loved the freckles that looked like constellations. The way his pupils looked like vast galaxies if they were into for too long. The connection he could feel towards the planetary systems sitting outside of Earth’s atmosphere. He could feel the Earth.

But the changing. He didn't want it. It reminded Danny too much of a time he thought he'd left behind in that thermos Clockwork watched over. Sure, there were differences, but each time he caught a glimpse of the fangs and the skin, his mind would flash back to similar ones that belonged to a bigger, scarier him.

Staring at himself in the bathroom mirror wasn't doing him much good, he knew that, but he couldn't help but try to stare his reflection into submission, forcing it to go back to the way it was before. Glaring the blue-green skin away, the fangs he was still getting used to, the pointed ears, the reflective eyes. He looked... demonic (all he was missing were the horns and black sclera). His ears would twitch at sounds, move up and down with his emotions, he was like an Ancients-damned elf (not that there was anything wrong with said damned elves). Just... he'd like it a lot better if he didn't look as if a younger version of Dan had a love child with Legolas. And if he looked how he did before. 

Mainly that last bit.

He'd have to get used to it. 

Danny covered his face with his hands and let out a low groan. Ancients, Phantom will never be able to be seen in Amity again. Not looking like this, not when there were already so few that believed Danny was good. If he went out there looking basically like a stereotype for a demon, they'd attempt to exorcise him for sure. Or call the Guys in White. Or his parents. He wasn't sure which was worse. Probably all of them at once? His luck was like that. 

Fuck, he wouldn't be able to tell his parents he was Phantom either. If they asked him to prove it and he showed them this? It wouldn't end well for any of them. A lot of tears and an early retreat to the Ghost Zone would probably be the best outcome he could hope for. Could he even show Sam or Tucker this version of Phantom? What about Jazz? Definitely not Valerie, he was already on thin ice enough with her. 

Would Dani end up looking like him? 

Fuck, this was probably how Vlad felt when he first had his change. 

Danny's jaw chattered unbidden as his anxieties and fears whirled in his mind, bringing frost to his skin and rising into the warmer air with wispy vapors. He needed to calm down. He knew he needed to. But there was so much to get overwhelmed by. He clenched his hands across his arms and hunched in on himself. 

What was he going to do?

"Danny?" his mother's voice and gentle knock on the door startled Danny enough that he full-body flinched in surprise. He tried to catch his balance, yelped when he didn't, banged an elbow painfully on a corner of the sink, and yet his scared mind still had enough smarts to somehow transform back into his human form as his ass hit the tub. He winced. That... was a lot of noise. 

"Danny, are you okay?" The doorknob jiggled. 

"Ye-yeah! Just lost my balance." Danny called back. That was a bit too close. Thankfully  he'd locked the door beforehand but still... damn.

”Are you sure? You’ve been in there for a while and that was an awful amount of noise!” 

“I’m fine! I promise! Just uh… just had a stomach ache!” Danny winced as the lie came out. Sure he was in the bathroom and it would be a normally believable lie, but even that one sounded fake to his ears. 

His mom went quiet on the other side of the door. Maybe a bit too quiet for maybe a bit too long. He heard her sigh. It sounded tired. He knew the feeling.

“I- Danny, can we talk? Please?” She asked, sounding just as tired as her sigh.

Danny could feel his heart beat pick up at the question. He really didn’t want to talk with her right now. He really, really didn’t. Lists of excuses flew through his mind as he searched desperately for one he could use. 

None would work, though. He knew this. She’d already heard him on the other side of the door and there were literally no other ways out of the bathroom. Just the door his mother was currently standing in front of, blocking it and making it impossible for Danny to escape without being noticed. 

There wasn’t a choice. The only thing he could do was be thankful that he was not stuck in Ghost Speak.

He opened his mouth and closed it. Then he took a deep breath as he stood up from his collapsed heap.

“Yeah.”   

Saying it felt almost… final. 

Danny had to make an effort to calm his breathing and keep his posture loose while he stepped to the bathroom door and unlocked it. When he opened it, he got a fresh look at his mother. 

Maddie looked a little rough. The hood of her hazmat was lowered showing ginger hair that was greasy and sticking up in places. Her eyes had bags that almost rivaled Danny’s and her posture was slumped. Some parts of her hazmat were covered in black oil stains. She looked like she’d just come out of a week-long inventing binge and hadn’t had a chance to shower in a while. That may have been the original reason she came to the bathroom and Danny just happened to be having a little freak out inside of it that she could take advantage of. What timing.  Upon seeing Danny, his mother straightened up and looked him up and down critically before smiling softly. “There you are! It feels like I haven’t seen you properly in ages!” 

Danny had to refrain from mentioning that it HAS been ages. It was his fault for the most part, recently at least, but all with good reasons. Some of them being new inventions with the name “Fenton” in them. Some of them deadly. 

He could only manage a smile that felt as fake as his earlier lie. “Hi… Mom. Sorry, there’s been a lot going on.” That wasn’t a lie, but his mother looked at him skeptically.  Maddie's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him as if she were trying to see through the layers of his excuse. She probably was. Her head tilted and she stepped just a bit closer. She was a tall woman, but it suddenly struck Danny that he was eye to eye with her now. Just one more thing that changed. 

His mother smelled of old gadget grease and something faintly burning that clung to her hazmat. A familiar smell made stronger by Danny's biology.  "You've been acting different, Danny," Maddie said quietly. Her voice was soft with a thread of concern laced through it that sent a tightening through his chest. "Are you sure you're okay? We haven't... we haven't spoken one on one in a while... even longer for your dad it seems."  Danny's heart thrummed in his ears as she took another step forward, her eyes flitting between his and searching. "What's going on with you?" And wasn't that just the question he couldn't answer?  His tongue went dry in his mouth. He had to answer her, he had to give her something, didn't he? Breath hitching, he broke their gaze and turned his head slightly to the side, struggling for an excuse he hadn't already given her. "I'm- I'm just tired. School is tiring and everything is tiring and...." He trailed off, risking a peak at his mother. She looked concerned, if not more so than she was when she first opened the door. Eyebrows pinched and lips pursed just so. Then her concern deepened into skepticism.

"You've been more than just tired," She said matter-of-factly. "You've been avoiding all of us. Me, your dad, your sister. It even seems like you're avoiding Sam and Tucker. It's been a while since you even brought them over. What's going on? I know there's something bothering you. You can tell me. There is nothing I wouldn't do to help you."  And didn't that just try to bring tears to his eyes? Danny wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her about dying and coming back, the pain that was the accident. The pain that was his self-imposed duty to protect his family and Amity Park. The sleepless nights of being kept up by fights and fear and injuries he had to take care of himself. He wanted to tell her about Pariah Dark, the Ghost Zone, his trips through time, the timeline he went dark, and Ember being his friend. But most of all, he wanted to tell her about becoming the Ghost King. That soon, he wouldn't be able to speak with her like this again. That soon, he would have to leave all the living behind and close all the portals to the Infinite Realms. That soon, he would have to die. For good.  He wanted so bad. He couldn't risk it. There was more than just himself riding on his choices now.  So, Danny bottled up his wants and emotions and looked his mother directly in the eye. He forced a smile through his panic, through his want to throw himself into her arms and sob. "I'm fine." What a lie.  It felt too easy, dismissive. What could he possibly say? I got killed in your invention? I'm not human anymore? We'll never see each other again until you die? 

And if he did say something? What then? His parents already stated they would tear Phantom apart "molecule by molecule." No, he couldn't risk it.  Furthering his lie, Danny reached up to rub the back of his neck. His skin, once warm, was cold and clammy, even to himself at times. "I just need a little..." He almost said space and he could almost feel his newly discovered Obsession trying to wiggle into being the first chance it got. "time. I just need a little time." He dropped his hand. "I'm fine. I promise."  His mother stared at him a moment, the two left standing in silence with one closing up and one trying to will the other to just talk to her.  Finally, Maddie's shoulders slumped and she sighed. A hand went to pinch the bridge of her nose and she closed her eyes. "I'm not trying to pressure you, Danny. But you don't have to hide from me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together."  Danny swallowed again, the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat.  "I-" and then the word slipped out before he could stop it. "Maddie, I just-" Her eyes widened. His heart froze.  He'd just called his mother by her name. He never did that. He hadn't meant to call her that. Since when had she become "Maddie" to him?  His mother's expression faltered and her eyebrows knit together. Her face showed the hurt she was no doubt feeling and Danny panicked. "I mean Mom! Sorry-" He rubbed a hand down his face. "It's just I've been... thinking a lot. I just need more time. There's... there's more going on right now than I can word. Please, just- I just-" He could feel his lip trying to tremble at the onslaught of emotions. He dropped his hand again. "I'm sorry." Maddie blink, the surprise and hurt on her face fading back to concern. She took a half-step back, crossing her arms loosely. "It's-it's okay, Danny. But I want you to know you don't have to shut me out. I'm your mother. I'll always be here for you." The words stung. Not because they weren't true, but because he wasn't sure if he could even be a good son to her anymore. There was no way she would accept him as he is now- not with what he had become and the path he was about to take.  With a sigh, Maddie spoke. "I'm going to take a shower. Your father spilled some oil on me again and I feel gross because I let it sit for an hour before I could reach a stopping point in what we were working on. You can take all the time you need, but I'm still here okay?"  Danny nodded quickly, stomach churning with relief, and he stepped to the side to let her through into the bathroom. "Yeah. Yeah. I'll be fine." He stopped a moment, then asked almost shyly. "Can I ask what you're working on?" Maddie paused and looked at him. Their eyes met fleetingly and Danny froze. Her face was... there wasn't a word he could really put to it. Not suspicious but... there was something almost considering. Then she smiled. "I'll tell you later when we have a chance to talk again." And with that, the door closed and Danny was left standing in the hallway by himself. As the water turned on in the shower, he couldn't help but feel a little hurt. Even if he thought he had no right to. Normally, if he asked his parents about their inventions, there was nothing that would stop them from telling him about them. Nothing. There were many times he stood next to his grease-soaked (or other stuff) soaked parents and listened happily. Then, later bored. Then, because knowing their inventions kept him alive.  This was the first time, to his memory, one of his parents didn't immediately dive into talking about what they were working on. And that sent a thought niggling into his mind. Were they suspicious? More than Jazz had thought? Did they suspect there was more going on than teenage angst? The thought scared him. His chest tightened and dread creeped in. He hadn't convinced her he was fine, had he? Not this time.  Next time, it would only be harder. If there was a next time. 

Danny turned to head downstairs. The hallway felt longer than usual with the quiet weight of his thoughts pressing down on him with each step. It took a moment to realize, but he had been holding a breath. He'd almost forgotten how to breathe around the tightness in his chest. He took a deep breath and let it out.  Everything was different. Even more so now since his Obsession Trance. The sensation of his own transformation, the overwhelming hum of his cored. And now, his mind was spiraling, trying to reconcile everything that had happened. The lights of his house felt too bright, the air too still, and Danny just wanted to find a way out of his situation.  But there was no escape. There wouldn't be, ever. 

Danny turned the corner to the stairs and stopped when he spotted Jazz at the bottom. She was perched on the lowest step, one knee hugged to her chest, and was turned to look up at him. She was already staring at him with that, "I'm going to figure you out," expression and it made his stomach twist.  "Hey," She called quietly. Her voice was almost too calm. "Can we talk?" Danny stalled. He already just had a conversation he barely wiggled out of with his mother. He didn't want to have to do it again with his sister. But he owed her a small conversation, at the very least, for all the help she'd been with distracting their parents. He didn't want to lie to her, but he couldn't tell her anything just yet. Not yet. He wasn't ready. If he gave her an inch, she would take a mile. Jazz was smart- too smart. And he was too damn exhausted to keep up the charade.  Jazz raised an eyebrow when Danny didn't immediately answer. "I heard Mom corner you. Are you okay?"  Danny shrugged and made his way slowly down the stairs.  His sister continued, "I don't know what's going on with you, but you're freaking me out. And, you know, when you're freaking me out, it's serious."  He managed a half smile at that. "You're always freaking out."  Jazz sniffed and crossed her arms. "I'm always serious." Danny's half smile turned wry. "There are some things going on." He admitted and Jazz whipped her head to his face, obviously surprised he was actually telling her something more. "I can't tell you about it yet. There's..." He ran a hand through his bangs. "There's so much and it's easier to handle without anyone poking their noses into things." He tried to look apologetic, and he was, but it was harder to show that when he had to keep doing the things he was apologizing for. There was a moment of silent contemplation from Jazz as Danny took the final couple of stairs down to sit next to her on the final step.  "Do you ever think about the things we used to get up to as kids?" She finally asked.

Confused, Danny nodded. "Honestly? All the time. Things seemed so much easier then."  Jazz nodded and stuck her chin in a palm, elbow on her knee. "I keep thinking about the books I used to read to you. How much closer we felt then." She turned to him. "I practically raised you, didn't I?" Again, Danny nodded. She practically did. With their parents distracted by inventions and ghosts, it seemed that more days out of the week left Jazz and Danny to their own devices at an age that seemed too young for it.  Jazz smiled, a soft nostalgic expression lighting up her face. "We used to sneak up to the top of the Ops and fiddle with that old telescope, remember?  The mention of the past hit Danny harder than expected. His core pulsed, making his heart skip a beat, and a surge of Obsession flooded his senses. Danny froze in place. He could feel his core thrumming with an energy he would not be able to hold back. Not yet. The sensations were too new. Before he could stop her, Jazz continued.  "There was that one night all the clouds were gone, and the moon was so bright. It felt like it was glowing just for us. We actually saw a few stars, remember? You were so excited. You wouldn't let us go back inside- you demanded we stay out there for hours, just staring at the moon through the telescope." The energy hit him like a title wave. The memory of that night- the pure joy, the excitement in his chest, the way the night sky seemed to open up before him- it felt almost too real. It was nothing like the vast sky that connected him to his Obsession, but it was just as beautiful in its own way. 

Sparks of energy crackled in spots across Danny's face and before he could stop it, constellations bloomed across his cheeks. With a desperate, panicked and involuntary movement, he buried his face in his hands.  "It was cold, so you ended up getting a cold and- Danny?" Jazz's voice faltered, clearly started by his sudden movement. A hand gently grasped his shoulder. "Danny, are you okay? What's wrong?"  He could only shake his head through his hands, the weight of his emotions and the situation too much to put into words.

"Hey- what's... Danny? Are you- are you glowing?"  Shit.  Danny's head snapped up, eyes widening as he stared at the glowing lights that were slowly creeping across his hands. He could feel them traveling over the rest of his body too. The panic set in harder as he turned to Jazz. His sister's mouth was hanging open as she stared, eyes tracking the lights making their way up his neck to his ear. They two of them were frozen, locked in the moment, the air suddenly so much thicker with tension. "Danny, what-" She started. Then her expression shifted. Her eyes narrowed and realization flashed across her face. "I was talking about the stars from before and you lit up like them. Did you... Danny, did you find your Obsession!?" He could only nod, his throat too tight to speak. Jazz cracked a wide, beaming grin and she lunged to throw her arms around him in an excited hug. "It's space isn't it?" She cried.  "Yeah." Danny managed to say. His voice was barely more than a whisper. Jazz back slightly to search his face with a puzzled frown. She was no doubt trying to figure out why he wasn't reacting with the same level of excitement. She blinked, clearly confused.  "You're in your human form." She said then, her voice trailing off. She gasped. "Danny you're human. The stars! While you're human!? But-"  Her words faltered again and her expression softened, almost pitying, as she looked at him with a gentleness he wasn't sure he deserved. "Oh, Danny..." And that was it.  The dam inside him broke. His lips trembled, his face crumpling as the flood of emotions overwhelmed him. In the next moment, he couldn't hold it back anymore. His body shook and Danny burst into tears.

<< Previous Ch. Next Ch. >> >>A longer post to try and make up for how long it's been since I updated this fic! The last time I did, my mom passed shortly after and I lost a lost of motivation for a lot of the fics I was working on at the time. But I've recently gotten a spark back for this one! If you'd like to be tagged for future updates, please let me know in the replies so I can start implementing tags! Hope you enjoyed!

[redelliavalentinos]

Prowling

Admittedly, bending down and moving like this would be incredibly awkward.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54480082/chapters/138018289

[tired-all-the-time22]

Hey, man, we all can't be like you -- I wish we were all rose-colored too

{Rose-Colored Boy - Paramore}

- - - - - - - - - -

Smashing this song and my headcanon that Dash's dad is in the GIW together to make a fic Idea where the GIW finds out Danny's identity and tells on him to his parents in their hunt for phantom --

Dash's dad leads the operation, him and his team (along with the Fenton parents) cornering Danny after school while he's hiding/running away from Dash, forcing transform in order to get away; unbeknownst to either party, Dash witnesses everything and runs after Phantom to try and help.

Que the two stumbling into and getting trapped in the ghost zone in a confused scuffle while Danny's trying to escape, now on the run from three (3) parents and one (1) secret government organization.

- - - - - - - - - -

I kinda wanna use this premise to explore how Dash would progress through learning Phantom is Danny, and then (separately!) becoming a better person--

-- I think he'd be super annoying about it at first; idolizing Danny, pestering him a bunch about how cool it is to have ghost powers, generally acting way too close with him, and completely pushing aside how he treated Danny before the revelation.

Most of the situations we see Dash become friendly towards/respectful of Danny in-show are usually after Danny has shown himself to be physically strong/confident (see: Pirate Radio), and even then, Dash doesn't proceed to do any introspection at all and continues to bully him.

Conclusion: Learning Phantom = Danny would not be enough to trigger a redemption arc for Dash. This boy needs to learn some empathy.

Dash actively witnessing Danny having issues despite being powerful as Phantom (i.e. fearing and having to run from his parents, the toll fighting ghosts takes on his school/life/mental health, etc.), as well as being confronted with how privileged he is himself (having a loving, attentive family, being much better off financially, etc.) would force him into being more introspective.

Throw in him realizing the parallel between how the GIW treats Phantom with how he treats Danny (i.e. indiscriminate & unreasonable anger & violence), and -boom!- it clicks for him

[pricklenettle]

The ectoimplosion is upon us! A strange, parasitic growth has visited Amity Park, it seems to have crept just about everywhere without anybody noticing. What obsessions drive it to keep growing?

I am so happy to finally share this, and the fic my partner @moipale wrote is so amazing! His fic blew all my expectations out of the water! Here is the Ao3 link: Haustorium, Amygdala

[anonymousangstmonster]

Prompt #81 “Baby Vampire”

The Fenton parents are monster hunters.

One night they left their daughter home with a babysitter while the two of them went hunting in the woods.

They found a vampire camp. Tents posted up and a campfire burning in the middle.

The strangest part was that there was a baby boy playing with sticks and rocks near one of the tents. The vampires must have kidnapped the poor thing! And the boy was so pale, they must have been feeding off of him!

So, they attacked the camp, set fire to the tents, killed all the vampires, and took the child home with them.

They tried to feed him with all sorts of foods, but he was just getting thinner by the day.

They tried feeding him baby food, baby formula, fruits, cooked meats; he ate all of it, but nothing seemed to give him any nourishment.

But after about a week of trying and failing to feed this poor boy, Jack stumbled over something while carrying a knife, dropped said knife, and accidentally cut his hand with it.

Beads of blood rolled down his hand and dripped to the floor, when he lifted his head he saw the boy sniffing the air, his eyes glowing red.

Jack realized the mistake he and Maddie made at that campsite.

Tentatively he walked closer to the baby vampire in a high chair and let his blood drip into the boys mouth.

After that he seemed happy and livelier. Jack talked with Maddie about the baby. The boy hadn’t shown any aggression while with them, he seemed harmless so far; so they decided to take him in and continue to take care of him.

After all, they did kill his family, it was the least they could do to accept him into theirs.

They named him Daniel, Danny for short.

They raised the little vampire as if he was their own, but hid his monstrous nature from everyone, including himself.

They infused his human food with blood, so he wouldn’t know what he was really getting his nourishment from.

He grew up believing he was human. Until he turned fourteen, then everything went downhill.

[citrusbunnies]

currently at the stage in a hyperfixation cycle where im shaking old hyperfixations trying to make dopamine fall out, does anyone have any fic recs for skyrim, world of warcraft, star wars esp the tcw era, dc, danny phantom, avengers, spiderman, overwatch, lotr and the hobbit, bg3 or ghost bc TvT

[snaileer]

Obsession

The thing is this. For all his friends teased him about a protection obsession, for all they poked at him for his constant inability to let things go without helping… he didn’t think that was it. Of course he would step up every time, but it wasn’t a pulling, consuming need, it was guilt, knowing the ghosts were his fault in the end.

If you asked Danny, he’d say his obsession was the stars, the world just past our planet’s atmosphere. A place so vast and so amazing that he couldn’t help but pause and stare sometimes. He’d say his obsession was his curiosity, his wonder, his desire to simply know.

But if he was honest with himself; truly, actually honest… that wasn’t it either.

They say your obsession forms by your last thought when you die. Your last thought in your mind, in your heart, the last thing you want before it ends. And if it’s powerful enough, if you want it enough, and there’s enough energy to power it…. You’ll become a ghost.

Danny’s last thought wasn’t about protecting.

It wasn’t even about his love of space.

When Danny had died, 14 and isolated in a machine of his parent’s making, his last thought had been not unlike that of the many others who are lost too young and too soon.

‘I just want to live.’

And when there’s enough energy, and the desire is strong enough… the last thought before death can be powerful enough to determine a ghost’s existence.

And all Danny wanted was to live.

So when he stumbled out of the machine, hair white and eyes glowing,

Danny Fenton lived.

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ Scarred For Half A Life ~

Lets pretend it’s the 3rd of April.

FINALLY I had the courage to post chapter 12, Happy Crown.

You can read/follow the story, whatever hah. Here.

———————

Genre: Angst / Hurt And Comfort (and a little Horror)

AU — OOC (sometimes)

Trigger Warning: Emotional Distress — Violence — Graphic Content

Rating: M (due graphic content)

———————

Summary:

Danny had been captured by the GiW once again, or so he thinks. Leaving him feeling utterly helpless—vulnerable. There was nothing he could do. What will happen to him? And why again?

(Summary might change as the story goes on)

———————

The scene of the picture:

“Wait! Don’t move. I want to take a picture!” Jazz exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

Danny groaned, rolling his eyes. “Seriously? A picture? What are you, our dad?”

Jazz ignored his protest, already angling the camera toward him. “Come on, Danny, it’s your birthday. Let me have this.”

He sighed, slouching slightly. “Fine, but make it quick. And don’t expect me to smile like an idiot.”

Jazz smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. You’re already an idiot. The crown just completes the look.”

Danny couldn’t help the small grin tugging at his lips as she snapped the photo. He sat there, the gold paper crown slightly tilted on his head, the cupcake balanced carefully in both hands. His glowing green eyes betrayed a small mixture of amusement and irritation, the faintest hint of a reluctant chuckle escaping him.

“There,” Jazz said triumphantly, glancing at the picture on her phone. “Perfect. I’m definitely keeping this one.”

———————

Note to myself:

No, I didn’t draw two hands. I hate drawing hands. So I just drew one hand.

And it’s a colored sketch. I didn’t want to clean it up.

Another ‘problem’. I know what’s going to happen on this day—his birthday, in the next chapters. And now I feel guilty about what I wrote, after drawing this. Because Danny looks so innocent that I want to hug him. (He is innocent of course)

He deserves lots of love. And he doesn’t get it (from some people in my story).

I will try to post the next chapter as soon as I possibly can.

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name

Danny tries to discreetly combat the ghosts suddenly showing up in Gotham without anyone finding out his secret, find out exactly why the ghosts have decided to follow him like lost ducklings after his narrow escape from his hometown, keep under the radar of both the Bats and his parents, not melt any more than he already has, and not worry his new and innocent friend Tim. Who knew that running away from home would be this stressful?

Wordcount: 1,620

Chapter 1/10

Can be read on AO3!

This fic has art from the wonderful and talented Luca!

---

Tim was just exiting his favorite coffee-shop when he was suddenly tackled by a shouting woman. “My baby! There you are!”

He watched his innocent cup of quintuple-shot espresso sail through the air and splatter across the sidewalk at the same time as he registered her muscular arms and the clear press of several weapons strapped to her body. Not a normal civilian then.

Right. Priorities.

The woman kept her strangle-hold on him as she continued, “Thank goodness you finally managed to get away from that terrible ghost!”

Tim twisted to get his attacker off him. Then he noticed that he wasn’t held in any of the multitude of restraining holds that he had been trained to escape. No, it was something a lot stranger than that. It was a hug.

“I think you have the wrong person,” he managed to get out as he tried to ease her off him, finally registering her earlier words and mentally readjusting the scenario towards a case of misunderstanding rather than an attack. Hopefully. It wouldn’t be the first time a villain took a roundabout way of getting to him, even if he had to say a hug was quite a nice way of going about it.

And that was the moment he noticed the frankly ridiculously big man bounding towards them with a wide smile and tears streaming down his face. He wasn’t slowing down. Oh shit.

He patted the woman on the back to get her attention since she seemed completely unaware of their impending doom. “Um…”

She only squeezed him harder and said, “God! It’s been so long! We were so worried!”

Tim’s bad feeling turned into dread. “… We?”

Then the man slammed into both of them with a wail of, “Danno!” 

The air rushed out of Tim as he was squashed between the two strangers. He might have been robbed of his morning coffee but he couldn’t deny that he was wide awake by now. Cass would be proud, and laugh her ass off. Tim vowed to never let her know about this.

After what felt like an eternity and what was surely a few cracked ribs, the woman disentangled herself from the hug with practiced ease that would put Catwoman to shame. She somehow managed to get the man to let Tim go and after a few seconds of struggling to breathe, Tim managed to wheeze out, “What's a Danno?!”

Then he was staring down the barrel of a gun. He tried to quell his instinct to kick it out of the woman’s hands, but it was the middle of the morning rush, and they were standing on a fairly well trafficked sidewalk, where even if people were smart enough to give the gun-wielding-maniacs—ergo, possible villains—a wide berth, it didn't mean they weren't staring.

Tim slowly raised his hands in a disarming gesture as he thought of a way to get out of this. So far they hadn’t made any demands. They also hadn’t harmed him (except his coffee and his wounded pride). Tim just wished he knew what this was about. So far he had been hugged twice, then had a gun aimed at his face. A gun that glowed green, emitted a worryingly high-pitched whine, and was very clearly home-made. Wonderful.

As Tim looked between the woman and the man he noted how both of their expressions had gone from relief and love to cold and hateful in the blink of an eye. He tensed, ready to disarm her, no matter the people around them. He refused to get himself shot before lunch.

The woman’s hands were steady—even though Tim noted that one of her hands were wrapped in bandages, and how both she and the man looked like they hadn’t slept in days—and her voice was flat as she said, “Phantom might still be overshadowing him.”

Tim frowned as both of them looked intensely into his eyes and after a few tense seconds the woman gave a satisfied nod. “The ghost is gone. You're safe now.”

She lowered the gun but Tim’s frown only deepened. “Ghost? What ghost?” 

The man and woman exchanged looks which only served to confuse him even more. 

“Honey,” the woman said in a soft voice, holstering her gun before placing a hand on Tim’s arm. He shook her off. “Honey, you were kidnapped by Phantom. It overshadowed you. You’ve been missing for a long time! That's probably why you can't remember anything.”

The man nodded along. “We’ve followed you to several cities. You must be exhausted!”

They seemed genuinely distraught by what they were saying but that didn't change the fact that they were absolutely insane.

Tim shook his head. “Look, you’re clearly confused. I’m not—”

He didn’t get to finish before the big man patted Tim on the shoulder with enough force to make him stumble. “Come on, now. It’s time to go home!”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Tim bit out, his patience running out. He was almost certainly late to his meeting by now, he didn’t have his coffee, and these two seemed allergic to making any kind of sense. “Who the fuck even are you?”

“Language young man!” The woman with the gun admonished him at the same time as the hulking man shook his head with a disapproving, “Is that any way to address your folks?” 

“My what?!”

These people were absolutely crazy. He already had one unstable parent which was more than enough, thank you very much. He had to get away from them. He took a few steps backwards. The big man stepped with him.

“Son. We know you must be scared, but—” 

“Why would you think I'm your son?!” And what kind of parents would be so ready to pull a gun on their child?

The man slammed a meaty fist into his other hand. “Is this something Phantom put you up to? Oh, when I get my hands on that ghost I’ll—”

The woman grabbed Tim’s arm in a startlingly strong grip. “Are you sure you’re okay, honey? Did that pesky ghost mess with your head?”

“I’m not your son!” Tim exclaimed with increasing desperation. He slapped her hand away. “And stop touching me!”

At this she paused, wide eyes fixed on him, before they narrowed sharply.

The man’s eyes fixed on the side of his neck as he slowly said, “What happened to your scar…?”

The woman finally drew back from him. “Daniel would never hit—”

“Wait a minute…” the man said as he pointed an accusatory finger at Tim. “You're not Daniel!”

Tim groaned as he dragged a hand through his hair. “That's what I've been saying the whole time!”

“Oh!” The woman tilted her head with a calculating look in her eyes that made a shiver of discomfort crawl up Tim’s spine. “But you really do look similar. You both have dark hair and blue eyes.”

Tim waited for more attributes that he shared with this mysterious Daniel, but nothing else came. That was why they had mistaken him for their son? His hair and eye color? …Shouldn’t they be a bit more familiar with what their own son looked like?

The man rubbed at his shin. “Did we have another son?”

“Ha!” the woman laughed, “Of course not, honey. We wouldn’t forget that!”

Tim wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t want to risk starting another argument with these people. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and awkwardly said, “So, I have to get going. It was… interesting meeting you.”

“Yes! Right! We need to keep looking!” The man straightened up and then screamed at the sky, “Don’t worry, son! We’re coming for you!”

Tim winced, both at the volume and at tomorrow’s headlines which he could already see in his mind’s eye. ‘Wayne Enterprise’s young CEO Tim Wayne caught roughhousing in the streets’. His family would not let him live this down for weeks.

“So sorry for the inconvenience,” the woman said as she lowered goggles over her eyes and took out what looked like some sort of tracking device from somewhere on her jumpsuit. She didn’t sound sorry at all. She continued under her breath, “Phantom should still be in the city… We won't let it get away again.”

And Tim was fairly certain that they should be more focused on finding their apparently missing son than hunting down some ghost, but who was he to judge? And he really didn’t want to get involved in this situation any more than he already had.

The man didn’t even try to apologize as he, once again, slapped Tim on the shoulder with enough force to make him stagger. “It was nice meeting you, young man! And remember; the only good ghost is a dead one!”

“Aren’t all ghosts dead…?”

That made the man boom out a laugh loud enough to make Tim wince. “I like your humor! If you ever get into any trouble with the undead just give us a call!”

Tim didn’t even know their names, but didn’t have time to ask before the woman exclaimed something about a reading and they both took off down the street on a run.

Whoever their missing son was, Tim hoped he stayed far away from them.

His eyes landed on his spilled coffee and Tim heaved a sigh as he turned back towards the coffee-shop. He would have to call in late, but he refused to face any more of this day without caffeine. 

He had more important things to focus on than Bruce getting some competition in the adoption-department. Oh, well. He probably wouldn't see them again.

At least he could console himself with the fact that ghosts aren't real.

[scarletsaphire]

This is my fic for @ecto-implosion 2024 with my artist partner @kaidebat! You can find their incredible art here, go check them out!

---

Phantom comes back to Danny's workshop damaged. Luckily, Danny can fix him. He's the one who built him, after all.

--

Danny did not look up at the sound of metal against metal; that instinct had been phased out of him after spending his whole life around the rumbling of gears and the clanging of pistons. If he jumped at every mechanical squeak in his own workshop, he’d never get anything done.

He did, however, jump at the mechanical hand on his shoulder. He calmed down once he saw Phantom’s glowing green eyes. “How did it go?”

Phantom’s eyes darted down to his other arm in lieu of an answer, and Danny followed his gaze. The arm hung stiff at a 20 degree angle, a metal rod stuck in the elbow and sparks flying off of the shoulder. 

“Poorly, I take it.” Danny let the chain he’d been fiddling with fall to the desk. He could continue working on the project later; he had more important things to take care of right now. “Get comfortable. I just need to grab my stuff.”

It didn’t take him long to find the tools he would need and a small collection of spare parts; the clocktower he’d repurposed into his workshop was smaller than his parents, and he prided himself on being neater than they were. Not that he was complaining about their poor organizational habits; if they kept better track of their stuff, then he wouldn’t have a need for a workshop at all.

Phantom was sitting in one of two chairs, his functioning hand hovering around his throat and his face pointed up towards the inner face of the clock. He smiled at Danny as he set down his tools. 

Danny grabbed his own chair from his work desk and dragged it across the floor. “So, who got you this time?” He sat on Phantom’s right, tracing his finger over the cool metal of his arm. It was normally warmer, just above or below the temperature of a normal human, depending on how hard he’d been fighting. Cold to the touch meant the pipes were being interrupted. That wasn’t good.

Phantom did not reply.

Danny furrowed his brow, glancing up at Phantom’s face. He still had his good arm rubbing lightly at his throat. “You’re not talking.” That also wasn’t a good thing; Phantom was always talking. “Move your hand?”

It fell to his side with a clang, revealing a puncture in the metal. Steam leaked from the gash with a slow hiss, mirroring Danny’s own. “Ouch. Nicked your voice box, I assume?” 

Phantom began to tilt his head in a nod, but Danny grabbed his chin before he could. “Don’t! You could hurt yourself. Just-” 

It was a challenge, holding Phantom’s head still while maneuvering over him. 

Keeping his grip steady while climbing over the armrest was awkward, not to mention getting into a position where he could more clearly see into the gash was a tight squeeze on the small chair. It didn’t matter; he couldn’t let Phantom do anymore damage to himself.

The damage wasn’t as bad as it could be, mostly a surface level scratch. It was a miracle that it didn’t damage more; there was a lot of complicated machinery in Phantom’s neck, and if it had cut any deeper, Danny might’ve needed to do a full emergency reconstruction. 

“I think I can fix this right here.” Danny didn’t look up, reaching between the gap in the chair for his tool box. “You just need to stay very, very… still…” He trailed off as his hand wrapped around what he was looking for. 

There were three things he needed to worry about: the pipe, the voice box, and the surface metal. Danny’s first concern was the pipe. Steam leaked from it slowly but steadily, condensing on the surrounding metal and dripping further into his throat. He needed to take care of it quickly, before it interfered with the other parts. 

“I’m going to need to stop the flow to your head,” Danny mumbled. “I can’t fix this without burning myself otherwise. You okay with that?” His eyes darted up to meet Phantom’s.

He couldn’t talk, obviously. With Danny holding his chin, he couldn’t even nod. None of that mattered; Phantom’s eyes sparkled and Danny knew the answer as clearly as if he had spoken. “I trust you.”

Danny nodded, then got to work. 

It was not an easy process by any means. Having an off switch would’ve been far too much of a risk, what with everything he needed to be doing. In fact, Danny didn’t think there was a way to turn Phantom off, not completely. Even disabling a specific part or pipe was very, very difficult, and ideally no one would be able to get close enough to ever begin to figure it out. 

Danny didn’t need to figure it out. He knew exactly what to do, and exactly how to do it, just like he knew every cog, ever gear, every scrap of metal inside Phantom’s body. He’d spent far too much time building him to know anything less. 

A few moments later and Phantom’s head fell limp on Danny’s shoulder, his eyes still glowing faintly, darting around in the sockets. “You’re okay,” Danny whispered, shifting to once again grab Phantom’s face. “I’ve got you.” He held Phantom’s head up, tilting his head up by the chin to give him better access. “I’ll be as quick as possible.”

With the steam out of the way, Danny could make out the exact problems much, much easier. The puncture in the pipe was miniscule, so small that it would’ve been invisible to the untrained eye. Just enough to cause problems, but an easy one to fix. The voice box was in a worse state, but still manageable. The mechanisms that caused it to vibrate had remained undamaged, but was disconnected from the functional speaker. Tricky, but quick. The gash into the metal of the neck was a nonissue - if Danny had a nickel for every time he had to tear through Phantom’s “skin,” he’d be working with fresh, new metal, not scraps, and that wasn’t even considering how often the other automatons punctured it.

“I’m going to need two hands for this,” Danny said. The back of the chair was ever so slightly shorter than Phantom, which was a blessing; Danny settled his head on the back of the chair as delicately as he could. “Is that comfortable?” 

Phantom’s face remained perfectly still, his eyes staring directly into Danny’s, and the gears in his neck whirred. 

Danny shrugged. “Well, I can’t do much else for you, so it’ll have to do.” He grabbed his goggles from the work desk and a soldering iron from his bag. “Don’t try and talk while I’m working, ok? We don’t need both of us hurt.” He leaned towards Phantom’s neck, and started the repair.

There was something oddly comforting about poking around Phantom’s insides. Nostalgic, almost, which was stupid. Danny had only finished building Phantom a few months ago, and it was dumb to be nostalgic from something so recent. It didn’t change the fact that the inner workings of Phantom’s body were familiar, and working on them again - not just surface level repairs, but actually working in him - felt a little bit like returning home.

It made sense, in a way. Danny had spent more hours in the clocktower than he’d spent in his actual house, even before he’d started thinking of it as his workshop. So much of that time, all meticulously measured by the resounding hourly echoes of the bell, was spent working on Phantom - on blueprints and concept sketches, and then individual parts, all long before he’d ever even began to work on the body - of course it would be more familiar than his bedroom at home.

Thinking about it, Danny couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d spent a whole day in his house. It was before his parents started the construction, that was a given. There’s no way Danny would’ve been able to stay overnight with the racket they’d been making, even before they ever finished the first automaton.

He’d thought it was harmless, at first. The first ones had been. A couple of robots with funny shapes whose only real purpose was to prove that they worked, that through science and mechanical work his parents could create life , or at least a semblance of it. It was only after the fourth one that Danny got worried.

It had taken them months to perfect the shell of a kindly old lady, complete with a warm smile and the smallest of hunchbacks. 

“She’s here to help with meals!” his father had said, his arm thrown over the machine’s shoulders. “Make sure that we all stay fed while your mother and I work.”

“We can’t have our kids going hungry, now can we?” His mother smiled at them, and then the two of them had retreated back into the basement, leaving Danny and Jazz with the automaton. 

For an hour it had stood there, perfectly still, smile stretched across the metallic faceplate. The longer Danny stared at it, the further it went from warm to unsettling. When the clock struck noon, it only got worse.

“I-I-I-I-It’s lunch time!” she stuttered to life, wheels below her fake dress spurring her towards the kitchen. “Children need to e-e-e-eat three square meals a day!”

The two of them sat on the couch, watching from a safe distance as she banged around in the kitchen, making a comical amount of noise for the small sandwiches she brought to the table a few minutes later.

If it had ended there, it would’ve been great. If it had ended at the soup she brought out a little while later, that would’ve also been fine. If it had ended at the salad, or the brownies, or the pitcher of lemonade, that would’ve been excessive, but manageable. The problem was that it didn’t end at any of that. It didn’t end until every last possible ingredient in the kitchen had been used up, and even then it was only because Jazz took a bat to the things wheels when it tried to leave the house to get more food.

That was the problem with automatons. They never knew when to quit. They were created with one task in mind, and they would do anything to reach it, over and over and over again. It was only through destruction, when the damage to their physical bodies was too great for them to continue, that they would stop.

Danny’s parents cared about this problem, of course. It was an issue in their process, a barrier between real life and the artificial one they were trying to perfect. They just didn’t care enough not to make more.

It’s why Danny started designing Phantom in the first place; an automaton to make sure that the others don’t go haywire and hurt somebody. An automaton that wouldn’t stop trying to help people until there was no more help left to do. A protector that doesn’t need to worry about the damage the others could do, because he could be fixed. Because Danny could fix him. 

“Done.” 

He removed his goggles, letting them settle around his neck while he inspected the patch. He’d needed to open the gash further to access Phantom’s inner workings, which meant that it couldn’t just be welded shut. The square of scrap metal was a different color than the rest of Phantom’s body, but not noticeably so; at least, Danny hoped not.  

“Go ahead and say something.”

“Testing, testing, one two three.” Phantom’s voice came through clearly, with only the slightest bit of static from the speaker. 

“It sounds good to me. Is it comfortable?”

Phantom hummed. “Much better than before.”

“Yeah, well, a monkey with a brick could’ve made it feel better than before.”

Phantom’s laugh was warm and crackly, as if the speaker couldn’t transmit all of the feeling in it. “You’re selling yourself short again.”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that.” Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m going to power your upper motor functions back up, and then I’ll deal with your arm. Sound good?”

“Everything you say sounds good.”

The soft thud of flesh hitting metal resounded as Danny playfully slapped Phantom’s shoulder. “I could just turn you all the way off if you want to be like that.”

“But you won’t.” Phantom couldn’t turn his head to look at Danny, but he could feel the automaton’s burning gaze on him anyway. 

He couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his face. “But I won’t.”

Phantom’s first move after getting powered on was to roll his head, testing the new metal patch. It held, bending with the rest of Phantom, blending into the fluid motion as if it was skin. “It’s good.”

Danny’s smile widened. “Wonderful. Means I can get started on the bigger problem.” He moved to slide off of Phantom’s lap, only to be met by his metallic arm, holding him in place.

"You can fix it from here, can't you?"

Danny was suddenly struck by the warmth emanating through Phantom's body, the subtle vibration of hidden mechanisms working inside of him, and Phantom's hand, settled in the crook of his hip, holding him firm. He’s sitting in Phantom’s lap. He’s been sitting in Phantom’s lap for the better part of an hour now. 

If Phantom were alive, it would’ve been an incredibly intimate position. But he wasn’t alive. He was an automaton, nothing but metal and steam. It couldn’t be intimate.

So why did Danny suddenly feel so warm?

 "Um. I can?

"Then stay." Phantom lets his grip loosen ever so slightly, but he didn’t pull his arm away. The only movement was to gently rub the small section of skin just under Danny’s shirt. "Please."

It was Danny's turn to burn far, far too hot. “I don’t- I-.” Danny swallowed hard, trying to will away the feeling of Phantom’s fingers on his back. “I don’t know if I can… focus very well. Sitting here.”

Phantom looked up at Danny, staring directly into his eyes. “I have faith in you.”

Danny breathed in the smell of the workshop, letting the piercing scent of metal cut through him. He blocked out the feeling of Phantom’s fingertips on his back, the feeling of his cheeks flushed and red, and the feelings rushing through his head far, far too quickly for him to process. Phantom was hurt. He was hurt and Danny needed to help him before he could deal with…whatever was wrong.

Removing the pipe lodged in Phantom’s arm was a clear step one. Ideally, the job would be as simple as grabbing and pulling, but that would depend on how it was bent, and what exactly it was lodged between. Danny bent to the side, reaching into his toolbox on the floor and ignoring the way that Phantom’s fingers slid further up his back. He tightened his grip around his screwdriver and straightened, then got to work removing the arm plates.

Undoing the screws was easy, repetitive, and time consuming, and Danny couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. Something was… off. Not just the weird fluttering in his stomach as Phantom’s hand slowly migrated from his back to his thigh. Something was off about Phantom himself. It was only after Danny had managed to get the first panel unscrewed that he realized what was bothering him.

Phantom wanted something. 

He had wanted things in the past, of course. Upgrades and repairs and disguises and techniques to help him stop the other automatons, or to help repair damage, or a dozen other things. A dozen other things all related to helping . 

That’s why he was created, to help. To help stop the destruction his parent’s experiments wrought, and to help restore what he couldn’t stop, but always to help. As far as Danny had figured, he couldn’t want anything outside of that. 

But here he was. Asking Danny to stay sitting on his lap, even though it would slow the repair. Even though it had nothing to do with a threat. Something was wrong. Or maybe Phantom had a reason for asking, something that made sense within his metallic brain that Danny just couldn’t compute. 

“Tell me about the fight?” That was a safe topic, and Danny could gather information from it. Maybe there was something that happened that caused this weird behavior?

Phantom sighed in a small puff of steam. “Must I? I was savoring the moment.”

Danny’s hands stalled for just a second before continuing their work. “You don’t want to talk about it?”

Phantom was quiet for a moment, his thumb rubbing absentminded circles. “I can if you need me to.”

“I’m more curious about why you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Like I said, I am savoring the moment.” 

Danny turned his eyes to Phantom’s face for a moment, studying it from the corner of his vision. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that Phantom was zoned out. That he was telling the truth. But Danny did know better; that shouldn’t be possible.

“Are you okay?”

“Besides the obvious, I assume?”

Danny realized he’d stopped working again, and quickly went back to removing the last arm panel. “Yeah. Besides that.”

“I don’t believe I suffered any other damages.” Phantom frowned ever so slightly. “Have you noticed something I haven’t?”

Danny turned his eyes back to his hands. Should he say anything? Phantom had never lied about his injuries before, and if he said that he didn’t think anything was wrong, he was telling the truth as he knew it. Of course, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t damaged in some way that Phantom didn’t know. If Danny told him, then they could try and figure out what was wrong together. Unless whatever was wrong was messing with his head and had some kind of self preservation built in. 

“You said you wanted me to stay.” He wouldn’t be able to figure out anything if Phantom couldn’t help him, not when so many of these problems lied within internal reasoning. “What purpose does that serve you?”

Phantom tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Does it need to serve a purpose?” 

“Of course it needs to serve a purpose!” The final panel of Phantom’s arm fell to floor with a clatter, punctuating Danny’s statement. “You’re an automaton. Everything needs to serve a purpose. That’s part of what you are, how you work.”

The green glow of Phantom’s eyes burn bright and hot, but Danny did not look away, did not blink in the face of the fire. “Is that truly what you think?”

“I don’t need to think about it, I know it! I know it because I know every inch of you, every cog and gear and piston and screw. I know it just like I know that you’ll be just fine when I do this.” Danny grabbed a hold of the pipe’s top part and pulled, generating a horrible grating metal sound. It finally came out with a pop. “I know you, Phantom. And I know that this isn’t normal, and if something is wrong I can fix it.”

“I don’t think you know me as well as you think you do.” 

“How can you-” Danny was cut off by Phantom leaning forward, metallic lips pressing against his own. 

It was strange. Danny knew these lips, had worked for days and days to sculpt them and make them mobile. Having them pressed against his own, feeling those infinitesimal motions on his skin, the slightest feeling of steam drifting through the space between them? It was something else entirely, something completely foreign and yet so much like home. It was almost instinct to kiss back.

Phantom’s hand, now free from the pipe, raised to the back of Danny’s neck. It made an ugly sound as it moved, slow and sluggish without the final repairs put in place, but neither of them seemed to care right now. When Phantom finally pulled away, Danny was staring at him wide eyed and open mouthed.

“I have wanted to do that for as long as I can remember, and I know you didn’t know that.”

Danny blinked slowly, his own hand raising to his lips, his mind lagging behind his body. “I- I don’t.” He swallowed, trying to buy himself a moment to catch up. “How? How are you…?”

Danny trailed off, and Phantom continued. “How am I like this?” Danny nodded. “I have no idea. I just… am.”

“You’ve always been different.” Danny’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t realize… how much.”

“And I never told you.”

“Why not?”

Phantom finally looked away from Danny. “I was worried. That you would deconstruct me. Try and make me more like them.”

Danny grabbed Phantom’s chin, just like he’d done to fix his neck, but now it had a different air to it. More delicate. More human. “I’m not going to do that to you. Not now, not ever.”

Phantom smiled. “Thank you.” A moment of silence, before, “Now what?”

Danny dropped Phantom’s chin to crack his knuckles. “Now I finish fixing your arm.”

“And then?”

“We’ll figure that out then. Hold still, will you?”

“Whatever you need.” Phantom’s smile grew and Danny couldn't help but return it.

[fanaroff]

Danny post Obsession Trance -- Mental design lineup

I had an idea of how I wanted Danny too look before I even started writing. Things may change when I actually get around to writing it in the fic, but for now this is how I have him in my head. Hopefully posting it doesn't bungle the quality, I'm really happy with how it turned out Fic >> Above the Nasty Burger

[redelliavalentinos]

This was fun! I've been waiting to finish this one!

[some-rotten-nest]

Tour Guide AU

Ages after the whole of Amity Park and Phantom, Danny becomes a tour guide for a museum. For which period of time? Well... Amity Park, Phantom and the Infinite Realms.

So long as he didn’t give himself away, it was easy money! He already knew everything about his own life and the museum was filled with old memorabilia, some of which was fake but looked very real, others which were actually real.

It had a decent salary, for a Museum in Gotham anyway. Plus, Danny knew how to defend himself, and common criminals didn’t usually go for his exhibition. Cultists? Sure, but Danny could fight them off. 

He did not think that the Justice League showing up and asking for his advice was something that could happen.

Turns out, the Justice League want something from King Phantom, but to summon him they need something of his, and Zantanna/Constantine had mentioned that ghosts have some etiquette (don’t ask about their death, possession  ≠  overshadowing, etc) that they should really catch up with.

So, two birds one stone, they go to the Museum which has a pretty good credibility and a guide that seems to know more than any history major, for some reason.

Danny is very nervous and confused. HIs coworkers are slightly scared.

(Tag me if anyone decides to mess with this, but, fair warning, I might as well)

[pricklenettle]

Family time has gotten a lot more awkward

the fifth chapter of Weaving Webs is up! Here’s the Ao3 link

@maskedemerald did such a good job writing the new family dynamic, jack and maddie are trying so hard to make this work. Definitely give the fic a read

[anonymousangstmonster]

Prompt #83 “Deaf and Blind”

The Fentons captured Phantom.

When they brought it to the lab, they waisted no time starting their experiments. The first of which had the result of injuring the ghost on such a deep level.

It was put in a ghost proof glass box, there were speakers and lights imbedded in the floor.

The test involved seeing how it would respond to a specific kind of light and a specific sound frequency that were both known to deter ghosts.

Once they turned it on, all Danny could hear was a loud droning screech and all he could see was white. He clutched his ears with his hands and closed his eyes as tight as he could.

It did nothing to stop the pain assaulting his senses.

It felt like whatever was hurting him had stopped, his vision was dark and all he could hear was a quiet ringing.

His throat felt sore, so he had probably been screaming; his legs were shaking, so he let them collapse and he fell to the floor in a heap; he felt that his core was strained, so he let himself revert to human form.

The Fenton parents were horrified when the ghost revealed itself to be their son, devastated by what they had just done to him.

He slowly realized that he couldn’t hear or see anything, that he was bleeding from his ears.

His parents had deafened and blinded him.

Maddie rushed over to him to try and comfort him. At first he thought she was Jazz come to rescue him, but she guided his hand to feel her short hair and goggles around her neck.

He cowered back into the corner of the box, frantically begging for them to stop, even though he couldn’t hear his own voice.

She tries to tell him that they won’t hurt him anymore by hugging him and and rubbing his back and kissing his forehead.