#Ghost Speak AU

[papiliomame]

Dannymay Day 29: Ghost Speak AU

Ghost Gabber in 3D:

I'm kinda confused about the AU part of this prompt. I thought ghost speak is canon? Otherwise this gadget or the Fenton Phones wouldn't exist in the show.

And then there is the episode "Pirate Radio" with the music and the subliminal message that only affected the adults(and Jazz).

[ellascreams]

Dannymay Day 29: Ghost Speak au

Danny was eating lunch alone when Wes frantically ran up to him. This was a common occurrence. “I finally figured it out,” said Wes. This, too, was a common occurrence.

“Figured what out?” Asked Danny before taking a bite of his apple. “That you aren’t going to prove my identity?” Wes rolled his eyes. “After months of study, I have finally worked out how to speak some of ghost language,” said Wes. Danny nearly choked on his apple and stifled a laugh.

“You learned ghost language from watching my fights?” Danny asked in disbelief. “Yes, I did, and I can prove it,” said Wes, crossing his arms. “Boo ah oh hoo, abo.”

“I am Wes Weston beware.” Repeated Danny. “You didn’t learn that from the Box Ghost did you?” Wes blushed. “Well, I… maybe,” he mumbled.

Danny couldn’t deny that what he had picked up on was impressive. “Here, I’ll teach you.” Danny picked up a pen and pencil. He spent the rest of lunch teaching Wes how to actually introduce himself in the language of the dead. Danny continued teaching him after that too. Pretty soon Wes was properly fluent.

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Day 29, G̶̲̗͕͒͝͝͠ḩ̴̳͈̞̀̈́̀̇̒̀õ̶̯̙̾̉͆͜͜s̷̡̙̮͓̺̯̉͒̕ẗ̸̢̛͈͔̖̻̩́̐͂ ̷̞͔̾̑S̶̢̧̯̞͚͆͂̐͒͋͛p̸͍͎̰̮̰̅͘͜͠ě̸͕̽̏ä̷̧̖̟͖͇̹ķ̵̼͈̖͖̀͗̈͌̚ ̶̧̗̰̼͋̓̐͝À̸̭͔̪̤̍́̇͗͑U̴̢͕̣̣̾͌̄͑̄͠🗣️

     Tucker-Can’t say I heard anything else. Just S̶̛̼̙̥͍̲̱̫̊͂͋̂́͐t̸̳̩̳͚̰͕̟̰͎͉͑͐̋͐̈́̍̂͋̒̉̾̏̕̕͜͝ͅă̵̧͙̳̝̞͉̺̭̪͇̩͓̪̜̳͂͜t̸͚̻͇͔̗̭͑͛̆̈́̃̂̕̚ͅi̵̧̨̛̻͚̮̗͚̮͖̗̲̙̗̻̲̦͒̊̉͛̂̎͌͗̆̅̍̾́c̵̨̛͚̦̣̞̹̺̥͎̖͉̝͙̝͒͑̓͂͌́͗̒̊̈̇̿̈́̕͘͜͝ͅͅ.

[jadenoryuu]

Day 23 (+5+29): Rogue Gallery (+Bonus)

I couldn't decide on who to focus for this DannyMay prompt, so I did a bunch of the Rogues!

(And that's the reason for the delay in posting this prompt... (^～^ ;)ゞ)

Since this is part of the Ghost Animal Noodles AU (which @tourettesdog's Little Baby Man is to blame), I'm going to post both the art and the respective animal I took inspiration from (under the cut because it's a loooong post):

Skulker the Felis nigripes! The fierciest kitten, they apparently have the 60% success rate everytime they hunt!

DAY 29: Ghost Speech AU Kitty as a Wirehaired Hungarian Vizla and Johnny (and Shadow) as Cheetahs! Since every Rogue is cat (or cat-adjacent) themed, I thought that it would have been hilarious if someone called "Kitty" was a canine. (≧∇≦) (The other two's need for speed prevailing over anything else is obvious.) Of course they cannot abstain from quarreling, so Ghost Speech for everyone!

Princess Dorathea as a Norwegian Forest Cat and Desiree as an Egyptian Mau! The latter has been chosen because of Desiree's canon origins, while Dora's cat breed is said to have been used on Viking ships as mousers, so I thought it was the closest thing to dragon-lore... HttyD (≧∇≦) I wanted to give them something nice, so I let them chill with a cup of tea.

Ember as a Lynx lynx and Technus as a Catopuma badia! Here we have the not-canonical sight of a singer and her boyfriend's boyfriend bonding over an electrical guitar project!

DAY 5: 10 min VS 1 hour Nocturn as a Nue (a Japanese Yōkai, part Tiger, Monkey, Tanuki and Snake) and Undergrowth as a Gryphon! I tried to stuff as many other prompts as I could in the Rogue Gallery Day, so here I attempted this challenge. On the left, the 10 minutes drawing with more Undergrowth than Nocturn because when I noticed that the time was almost up I rushed and did a base sketch of the latter. On the right, the 1 hour drawing where I focused on Nocturn because I had in mind what I wanted them to look like so there was no time left for the other Ancient... (^～^ ;)ゞ

The Box Ghost, Luch Box and Luch Lady as Spotted Hyenas (Crocuta crocuta)! The hyenas are wonderful animals and Feliformes, so technically still cat-adjacent! Plus they have a matrialcal gerarchy that I feel fitting in BG and LL dynamic, so I loved doing this!

Youngblood as a Pallas Cat (Otocolobus manul) and Sidney Poindexter as a Sphynx Cat! Pallas Cats are so cute but also look like gremlins, so they fit very well with a ghost kid (who's in his Tarzan Phase). As for the Sphynxes, I love those beasts, but they have that kind of "loser nerd" vibes that is so Sidney that I couldn't pass the chance! ꒰(@｀꒳´)꒱

Prince Aragon as a Norwegian Forest Cat (like his sister), Walker as a Binturong/Bearcat (Arctictis binturong) and Penelope Spectra as a Fossa (Cryptoprocta ferox)! Both the last two are cat-adjacent, plus fossa look as creepy as Spectra, so they fit very well. As for the pose, since he has lost the Dragon Amulet, Aragon is kind of a twink, so just a paw to stop him would suffice, but Spectra is a slippery eel, so Walker had to bind her with his tail as well, just to be sure... (≧∇≦) (My lovely assistant @teacupsandstarlight posed irl for the captives' pose, so please thank her! (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠~❤)

And here's all for the Rogue Gallery!

Now, for the Free Day.... All I can say is: Spider-man meme.

=(ˆ●ω●ˆ=) و

[asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog]

Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: Danny goes out with his new face

Word count: 2851

Chapter 17: Coffee Beans

17/?

There was one blessing to come out of last night, Danny now could go out into public and not worry about being arrested! Would he be arrested or would they call it being apprehended? He knew nothing of this world’s legal system, the only law he did know was that using your quirk in public without a license was illegal. He supposed that made a little sense? You had to be 16 to get a car license, even if you could reach the pedals when you were younger. They probably had a test that you took around the same age to get the license, so you could understand the responsibility and all that. The news was probably freaking out because they didn’t know if he had one or not. Stupid bureaucracy.  

Still, it’s nice to see his human face again, he had almost forgotten what it looked like. He touched his face again, it wasn’t smooth like human skin, it was tough and didn’t stretch unless he pulled it. He felt like a doll, something non-living trying to replicate being human, being familiar. It was uncanny how every little detail of a ghost was them trying to imitate their human selves. They were so close, but everything little thing set them further apart. It was sad as much as it was desperate. 

Danny sighed. He had to reminder, despite everything, it was still him. He still glowed a little, but if he concentrated enough he could turn it off. He also had the pleasure of ignoring his blue skin since the hazmat suit covered everything. If he ignored everything inhuman about himself, he looked like how he did before he went into the portal. Since alternate dimensions and realities exist, maybe this is what he looks like in one of them. A reality where he didn’t die and just got cool powers. Other him was probably still with his family right now…He doubted it though. If such a reality were real, Tucker was probably the mayor because of how little sense it made. Of course he would die if he got zapped to hell and back (literally). But it was pointless to wonder about these types of things. 

Danny snapped back to the task at hand. He still hadn’t gotten the chance to really explore the place. The last time he was out didn’t really count since he was paying more attention to Deku than the surrounding area. Danny has also been putting off looking for the portal so who knows, maybe this time he’ll just walk into it. That’d be convenient. In the end Danny didn’t really need to have a justification for himself to go outside, but it helped him from feeling less lazy. He was (practically) an adult and could do what he liked. 

Right now he was pondering his updated human disguise. While his clothes covered the remaining blue skin, they were so conspicuous that it would give him away immediately (he kinda regrets giving Deku his jacket). All he had left was the hat and mask, but that wouldn’t help at all. He still had his old disguise, but he found it in the garbage and hasn’t washed it since. Danny stared at the clump of old clothes on the floor, it smelled like wet onions. He briefly debated it, he’s been in stinkier situations, but grimaced. He already stole once it’s not gonna hurt to steal again. 

He flew out undetected to the same shop as before. There were no new deliveries since then, so he had to go inside the store warehouse. There were still unpacked boxes so Danny just phased his hand inside and grabbed what felt like a jacket. He didn’t get any time to inspect it before a retail worker (who looked like a cat-boy) walked in. He sat in one of the baskets and started crying about customers. Danny suddenly felt bad for stealing… Not bad enough though, he quickly got out of there. 

He went to an empty alley behind the store to check out his newest steal. It was a zip-up hoodie whose main colors were yellow and white. Something seemed familiar about it but Danny couldn’t put his finger on it. There were also letters on the front with a G sandwiched between to F’s, and had white strips on the arms. It was really starting to bother Danny where he knew this from. Maybe he just saw it at the Hero Museum and the design just got stuck in his head? He did see a lot of heroes when he was with Deku, though that doesn’t mean he paid complete attention (the kid could ramble), but he did try his best. Danny checked the tag and it had a little cartoon of a man with a big body and a little head wearing the hoodie…

OHHHHHH! That’s right, Danny ran into this guy when he first came here. What was his name? Bubble gum? Big Gum? Something like that, he knew it had something to do with Gum. Maybe the guy could stretch out his limbs and body like a character he saw from an anime (it was one of Tucker’s favorites). 

He looked at the jacket and then back at the store, briefly debating returning it and getting a different one. He didn’t want to interrupt the worker there, even if he couldn’t see him (he needed the space), and it wasn’t that big of a deal. The hero was just weird (which was a crime Danny was also guilty of). It didn’t really matter in the end what he wore, as long as he covered his upper half (the bottom passes as cargo pants). He put the jacket on without any more hassle. 

He looked at his reflection in a store window close by. He looked pretty human if he did say so himself. The standard wasn’t high here either, he did just see a cat boy, after all.  No ones gonna notice or care if he has sharper than normal canines or gray hairs. He could always wear the mask and put the hood up if anyone stared. Wait no, that would make him look so creepy. Maybe just one at a time. Now reassured, Danny walked into the throng of people outside the alley. He had no way of tracking time here (time flies by when you're dead), but from all the teens in the street it must’ve been a weekend (that or after school). He missed weekends (when ghosts didn’t attack) and he got to be a kid again. He was only 17, how did he get so old so fast? 

He lifted his hood up and joined the throng. He had no idea where he was going so just followed whatever felt right. He was downtown and so got to see plenty of shops. He still had no money, so he didn’t go into most of them. One he did go into was whatever the Japanese equivalent of a bodega was. It was humid and smelled bad, but temperature didn’t affect him and he didn’t need to breathe so he was able to browse around comfortably. It was mostly hero themed knick-knacks and off-brand American brands (or maybe it was the brand in that dimension?). Most of the hero stuff was that buff guy Deku was into, Danny was pretty sure his name was All Might (that was one of the only names that stuck since the kid kept talking about him). He looked like if the American flag threw up and a baby crawled out of it (like the girl from the Ring) and then grew up to be a hero. Danny cringed. It was too much. They also had other figurines like an angry looking fire-man, but Danny didn’t recognize any of them. He must’ve been staring too long cause an employee went up to him and asked him if he was gonna buy anything in a sickly sweet voice. Danny shook his head no and the person's face turned sour and he walked off, still eyeing Danny and mumbling something about tourists. Danny got the hint and left the store. 

A similar pattern happened at other stores as well (although most of them were more pleasant). A lot of them were able to clock something other about Danny, and interpreted that as him being a foreigner, and asked him a lot of questions. Apparently he also had an accent and people kept trying to guess where it was from. They were shocked when Danny told them it was American, one guy (apparently a linguist) straight up told him he was wrong. She told him that it was too “throaty” (whatever that meant) to be American and insisted it was more Latin or Spanish in origin. Danny said, “Ah you caught me.” and just walked away from the conversation. People can be so weird. 

It was during this time that something he noticed from before kept popping up. When people talked, their mouths didn't match their words. When Danny first came into the world, he thought he just had a concussion (but you need a brain to have a concussion), but his new theory is that sound travels differently here so that’s why their mouths are weird. He didn’t notice the same problem for anything else, but maybe the biology is different here and it gets expressed in weird ways. 

Danny came upon a coffee shop. It had two stories; the 2nd probably being where the owner lives; and the bottom being the actual shop. There were no signs on the building except “Coffee & Tea” in gold letters, and it was pretty plain on the outside. It had one massive window that looked into the shop and Danny could see empty seats and little figurines on a shelf. The place would’ve looked closed if it weren’t for the door being prop slightly open. They were probably starting to close since It was late so not a lot of people would be out getting coffee. 

Danny was gonna walk past it when he noticed shadows dancing on the alley walls beside it. There were grunts and pained noises that echoed off the walls. It made his core leap out wanting to defend them. Danny bolted in the direction of the sound, and his footfalls echoed in the ally from the puddles on the ground. Before he reached the corner, he heard something fall over and a panicked voice. Within the second, Danny reached the end and was able to see an old man sweating as he bent down to pick up a box that had fallen over. They both looked at eachother, confused.

“Oh sorry kid, thought you were somebody else,” the old man recovered quicker than Danny, and he let out a small laugh. Danny didn’t know who the man was expecting, but it was clear something was going on in that alley. Whatever it was, it wasn’t any of Danny’s business.

“I heard noises and thought someone was hurt?” Danny cocked his head, still confused by the situation. The old man started struggling again to pick up the box. There was an open van with similar sized boxes still packed in. “Do you need any help with that?” Danny didn’t know what was going on but he couldn’t not not help an old man. He offered his hand out to the man, not that he expected him to hand him the box, but more of a gesture of good will. 

“No, it’s alright,” he shook his head and stood up, eyeing Danny. His back was bent and he put a hand on his lower back to straighten his posture, Danny could hear several pops and cracks. Now standing slightly hunched, the old man was about 5’3, and looked like there was nothing but bones and wire under his clothes.  “I may not look at it but I can take care of myself.” Clearly, Danny thought to himself. 

The man watched him as he bent down to grab the box again. Danny stopped him by just grabbing it for him. The air between them was so awkward that all Danny could do was smile nervously. A soft but slow trickling sound came from the box and he looked down to see tons of beans spilling from a hole. Thank god it’s not drugs, Danny thought. He moved one of his hands to cover the hole, and then flipped it around so it was at the top. The old man had been eyeing Danny suspiciously since he got there (why are people so paranoid here?), but his gaze shifted more to confusion as the seconds ticed past. He gave Danny one final up and down and then squinted as he let out a breath. He grabbed a pair of glasses (but honestly they looked like goggles with how big they were), and cleaned them off on his shirt. When he looked at Danny again his eyes widened and he jumped back. Danny just nodded, used to that reaction. He stepped back, as if he had to get more space to look at the entirety of Danny. He seemed to have come to a decision. 

“What’s your name kid?” He asked Danny, although he still looked apprehensive about him. 

“Da-” Danny swallowed his tongue, “-amn. What a crazy question?” if ghosts could sweat, the alley would be flooded. The old man tilted his head back and laughed. 

“Want to give that another try?” He smiled at Danny knowingly. The glasses made his eyes look big and manic and the lens had a green tint to them. 

Danny thought about the name that he found in the library. Since he was still a ghost he couldn’t get his picture taken but it still helped cement some things in his mind. 

“Thomas,” Danny paused, “or Tommy is fine?” Thomas was too formal for his liking, he doesn’t even like being called Daniel, and he chose that name. 

“Nice name, kid.” Oh he knows. The old man put the glasses back into his pocket and sat against the wall of the shop. Despite his small size, the man seemed so much bigger than Danny. He looked at Danny again and shook his head and laughed “Well Tommy, since you’re already holding that box, would you like to load the rest of them in?” 

Danny nodded. He was already this far and it would be rude to say no. 

★

Danny was finishing unloading all that was left in the van. The man meanwhile was leaning against the wall fiddling with some type of screw or file and little block. He would watch Danny and bark orders occasionally about where to put stuff or to be careful with something. Danny didn’t really pay attention to the man much, he just focused on the boxes or other random thoughts that came into his head.

From the sounds within the packages, most of them were full of loose coffee beans. Danny didn’t find it suspicious until he unloaded actual bean bags with fancy words in fancy fonts on it. Why would there be loose beans in the packages and not in the bags like the others? Was there something else in the boxes that the beans hid? But again, none of his business.  

Danny was directed to put all the boxes into the small room that connected to the outside. It was bare of anything except another door to get into the shop’s kitchen or storage room. It seemed more like a weird decontamination room than one leading into a café. 

“Don’t you want me to unload it in the actual shop? I’m not really doing anything right now so it would be no issue.” Danny was still raised with manners, plus he really wanted to know what was in the boxes. 

“No, it's fine.” The old man got up from his spot, “I have people to do that later.” He came up to Danny and handed him something. Was this hush money?! “Here’s my card.” It was sleek and professional looking, not something that a café owner would handout (unless it was for his other business). Maybe Danny walked into a weird smuggling ring and was now being invited to join said smuggling ring. “I’m always on the lookout for… people like you to come work for me, if you’re willing?” He smiled and it was all teeth.  

“I don’t have a phone” Danny said with a blank face. It was true since his phone was with his other pair of legs that he no longer had access to. 

“You should fix that.” he had an annoyed look on his face but it also looked amused. “Oh well,” he shrugged and took back the card as if he didn’t care what happened next, “If you change your mind, just ask the door for “Tanaka” and I’ll be right out.” And with that he slipped inside the dark room and shut the door. Danny could hear six instantaneous clicks of locks sliding into place. 

Definitely sketchy.

[ovytia-art]

Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Original Character(s) Characters: Danny Fenton, Original Ghost Character(s) (Danny Phantom) Additional Tags: DannyMay 2023 (Danny Phantom), College Student Danny Fenton, (it's more just a mention than a focus), danny talks to ghosts, that's the fic, he is lowkey a PI but for ghosts Series: Part 3 of DannyMay 2023 Summary:

After leaving Amity Park, Danny thought he could retire phantom and leave his ghostly hero days behind. Turns out there’s more to it than punching ghosts.

A series of short vignettes written for DannyMay.

DannyMay Masterlist

[bunnys-kisses]

i have this little thought bouncing around in my head! single father simon. (a drabble)

*shrug*

simon ends up with his daughter winnie after her mother abandons her at his doorstep. he was the father, it was his turn to take care of her. simon could handle warfare, he could handle guns and sweat and metal. he could handle blood and bruises.

but a fussy newborn was a little too much for him.

enter you, it was your summer off from university and you were making extra money by babysitting for parents who couldn't afford weeks of posh summer camps. it was decent work and you were pretty good with them! so being concerned for your neighbour, simon's well being, you offered to watch winnie.

simon very well fell in love with you the moment you took the baby girl into you arms. winnie instantly got settled into your grasp, almost like you were her mother.

"what a lovely baby girl." you cooed, you looked at her with such affection already. you looked at simon and smiled, "she looks too cute to be yours." a playful jab.

you watched winnie while simon was at work. you didn't know what he did for work, but you tried not to ask too many questions. all you knew was that the checks didn't bounce when you cashed them.

but being with winnie for so many days had gossip go through the apartment building. you had a baby with simon? why were you in two separate apartments? where did the lovely newborn sleep? she SHOULD be sleeping with her mother (you).

when you tried to correct them, simon always said, "ah don't worry. we'll be havin' our own place soon enough!" his large hand snaked around your waist.

you just looked down at winnie who was sound asleep in her stroller. she couldn't care less who her mommy and daddy were. it wouldn't be hard to be the mother she'd otherwise be without, right?

that was the angle that simon too.

you'd make the most perfect mrs. riley. you were already taking care of winnie, but also him when he came home. you shouldn't be the nanny, you should be winnie's mama.

"she really loves you." simon remarked when you went with him to the pool.

you were in a one piece swim suit and you were making sure that the baby was out of the sun and had sunscreen on. you didn't want her to get sick or burned.

currently she was resting on your chest while you were in the shade. in your free hand you had a book in it and the other was on winnie's back. you said, "i don't know what you're talking about." as if you hadn't heard the comments from the little old ladies about how sweet you two looked.

"look like a real mama."

you looked to him and raised your eyebrows, "i thought i was the babysitter, mister riley."

simon placed a hand on your thigh then rubbed up and down, "nah."

it didn't take long for you and simon to get intimate. he asked you to stay because winnie had been having trouble sleeping. you two shared a glass of wine and then you found yourself face first into simon's bed. the scent of him filled your head as he fucked you into the comfortable mattress.

he loved the sound of your pussy as he fucked you without much abandon. the thickness on your hips would only grow once he made sure his next child was inside of you. you'd be such a good mama, unlike that previous bitch who left him.

maybe there was a good reason why she left him.

cum clung to the fuzz on your pussy lips and was a bitch to clean in the shower come morning.

he woke you up and said, "she needs her mama. she gettin' fussy, doll." then watched you stumble around to find clothes to wear while you checked on winnie as if the little girl was your own. his hand was wrapped around his cock. he wondered how many more times he could finish in you before you stumbled back to your apartment.

the answer was four.

it wouldn't be easy carrying for a sprouting little baby plus the baby boy you were currently pregnant with. you've put school off for a little while and moved in with simon, your due date was in the middle of the semester. now you were trying to figure out what food was good for a teething winnie while also trying to manage the riley son that was occupying your womb.

you were making dinner for your growing family with a cute little maternity dress of. simon was at the table with winnie. he knew that one day he'd have to tell her that you weren't her actual mama. but you were raising her and her little brother too.

"see there's mama." simon said in that grumbled voice of his, pointing in your direction.

you didn't imagine that you would've ended up as a stay-at-home mother to two children who were than a year apart. but as you felt the shift of your 'second' baby inside of you, you smiled.

you heard winnie make a little noise to get your attention. you checked on the pot of sauce on the stove before you turned away to check on your little girl.

[breesperez139]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6

“I’m a twin”, Damian said one night. He could feel the narrowed eyes of his family drilling holes on his back in disbelief. Not that he could blame them. Damian had never so much as implied being raised with a companion, much less a sibling.

“I had a brother”. Damian paused to recollect himself. He had not said his brother’s name out loud in over 8 years.

“His name was… Danyal”. Damian hated the way his voice wavered, but he could not help it. Danyal was everything to him, his other half. Their heart beat as one and when one heart stopped beating, the other one died with it. At least until his family put his heart on metaphorical life support without ever realizing.

“Where is he now?” His father asked, voice filled with knowing grief and a hint of betrayal. It had in fact been 6 years since Damian first showed up on his doorstep.

“Up there”. All eyes shifted towards the specific star he was pointing to. “Right before he died, he promised me he’d guide me from the stars. Unfortunately, the stars are not visible in Gotham, so my brother is unable to be of much help unless I leave the city.”

“Your brother is Polaris, the North Star?” Tim questioned warily, most likely in attempts to not offend him. Damian was aware of how stupid it sounded, but Danyal had promised, and his brother never broke his promises.

“Yes. Danyal is with the stars now, just as he always wanted”

[needlepine]

Needletail as Rootpaw’s ghost guide in TBC, episode 2: “my wine aunt’s spirit is haunting me and she’s also super annoying”

[starry-songs-canvas]

Take Care of Him

The boy, who had Damian’s face, couldn’t be more different than Dick’s (alive?) baby brother.

Aside from his Snow White hair, he smiled and laughed freely, making puns on top of his embarrassing story about his supposed twin brother.  

(“Clones don’t have childhood memories right?  So if I have an embarrassing story or two, that’ll give you a way to check that I’m not a clone AND give you ammunition for teasing!”)

“—And that’s how his face—and his pride—was forever wounded by Sparta the warrior cat!”  Danny finished his story with a flourish, cracking up immediately after.

“Huh, and to think he left it at “training”, obviously he didn’t think anyone would let the cat out of the bag.”  Dick said, laughing even as he eyed the lookalike.

Danny snorted.  “Yeah, I doubt he thought anything as Cat-astropic as that would happen.”

They sat in silence for a moment, overlooking the buildings below, with the Dalv. Co. Labs smoking in the distance and the breeze blowing past the two, yet only seeming to affect Nightwing and not the phantom beside him.

“Is he safe?  Is he happy?” Danny murmurs as he looks up at the stars, looking every bit the forlorn ghost he claimed to be.

“…We keep each other safe.  And I’d say once he got past the stabbing faze, he’s pretty happy in Gotham.”

“But I’m sure it’d make him happy to see you again.”  Dick thought back to the comments the vampire-ghost they’d fought earlier.  It didn’t sound exactly, ���happy” or “safe” for Danny.  Or anyone else involved.

Danny shook his head.  “Nah.  He’s… moved on.  And with how crazy my after-life is?  I’m already dealing with ghosts, ghost-hunters, and my—err—that frootloop from earlier.  I do not need to add furries and murder-ninjas to the mix.”

Danny sighed as he floated into a standing position.  “Speaking of which, if you could just, maybe not tell him you saw me?  Better to let dead dogs lie.”

Danny’s piercing Lazarus green eyes looked at Dick and he saw the exact same expression B had on whenever he “had to do it alone”.

“Just, take care of him, Kay?  Or I’ll haunt you to the ends of the universe!”  He said, throwing up a peace sign as he turned invisible.

Dick snorted, “Yeah, sure kid.”

Dick got up and started off toward the bat-plane.  He had a brother to interrogate, and another brother/clone of his brother to find.

[frogchiro]

COYOTE-GRAVES CHASING AFTER FARM-CAT READER!

Just a pretty little kitty that enjoys the finer things in life, lazily patrols the farm for this and that- reporting back to guard dog Ghost occasionally.

She’s out on the far part of the pasture, lazing around when she see’s Graves behind the fence.

Oh- he’s calling out to her! Hm- she get’s up and slowly starts to walk away like she never heard him- oh he jumped the fence! Maybe walk a little faster- Fuck! He’s following her! Time to run!

Her fluffy groomed behind sprinting back to the barn with Graves snapping at her heels, crazy about this *pretty* little kitty. He knows that you’re a kitty- you’re not meant to take his knot, you’re not really big enough to take his knot but, your body isn’t built to take his knot, BUT! it’s worth trying sweet girl! Get back here!

While you’re just trying to find Guard dog Ghost- why can you never find his scary ass when you need him!!!! Bastard!

(Maybe you try and dart for the doggy door of the house *but, it’s a door for actual dogs* and your ass get’s stuck half way through the door.)

Imagine Ghost’s surprise to hear his kitty howling her head off with Graves shuffled up behind her trying to shove his knot in. Just relax a little kitty!

You have no idea that this ask has been knocking around my brain all day now

And the day started out so good for you too!! :(( You woke up snuggled all warm and happy between the two huge farm guard dogs, Simon and Johnny, who, before you went out on your own, manage to sneak a little nip here and there and tickled you with their tongues a bit, y'know for a good start Kitty!

The 'lucky' tongue tickling didn't do it's job though since now you have a pervy and very horny Coyote Hybrid chasing after you >:( You've seen the wild blonde hybrid before on the premises of the farm, always lurking and stalking when the sun was setting, his eerie eyes almost glowing in the setting light making you meow and run away back to the barn where your nest is and now he's chasing after you bc he wants to mate :((

And as you're running Philip is both horny and frustrated; why are you running?? Come back pretty girl! Sure you're smaller than him and his knot can be a challenge but c'mon Kitty, he promises it will be worth it! He's very virile and strong, he can take good care of you!

Besides it's not like it will be your first time taking dick and knot this big; Philip is lurking around the farm for a while now and has seen you mate so much with the huge guard dog hybrids, Ghost and Soap, that he's actually surprised that you're not knocked up with a litter of pups by now. Not to mention that he saw you sniffing and slinking around that mean old bull, Price, who always charges at him on sight >:(

Imagine Ghost's and Johnny's rage when they find poor you held down by Philip who literally dragged you out of that doggy door and is now thrusting without abandon as you yowl and moan, your soft, broad hips high with your tail fluffed up as the mean Coyote tries to fit his fat knot inside your cunt with a nasty smirk on his annoyingly handsome face </3

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

[starry-bi-sky]

Danielle and Danyal's meeting... very, very quickly goes very sour from, basically, the moment Danny steps into his room and finds Ellie sitting on his bed (strike one) and reading the comic books Tucker introduced him to (strike two). By the time she's looked up to address him, Danny has the door locked, and a hand hovering near the knife hidden under his shirt.

She gets her third strike when Danny, in a voice that could make the mountains tremble, demands to know how she got into his room, and she lies (with uncertainty of her decision growing in her chest) that Jazz let her in. Danny's hand shifts closer to his weapon, and he turns towards her fully, and says that Jazz would never let someone he didn’t know into his room, and who was she.

(Vlad Masters had underprepared Danielle for her meeting with Danny -- not out of any completely direct malicious intent, but he failed to mention just how... 'touchy' Daniel could be -- he failed to mention the scars littering up his arms, unhidden by the hoodie tee he meets Ellie in. He failed to mention that along with those scars, that Danny was visibly lean, capable of doing very real damage without the use of his powers.)

(He tells Ellie that he’s adopted, and that he is observant and clever, but ungrateful and has a bad attitude.)

Her final strike occurs when Ellie, trying to keep her facade of cheeriness, tells him that she’s his third cousin once removed. Immediately, Danny has his dagger pulled out, and Ellie finds herself with the cold metal of a blade pressing against her throat.

Danyal 'A.G' Fenton hasn’t killed since he arrived in Amity Park. At first it was because mother told him to keep a low profile, and killing would do the opposite of that. But, he's been slowly learning from his sister and friends over the years the value of human life. So it's become a combination of keeping his head down, and also that life has value to it.

But. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill, nor is he opposed to doing it if the situation calls for it. It just means that he doesn't do it. And ‘Danielle’ is an unknown in his room, claiming to be family to him, and appearing uncannily similar to him and his family. Either someone hired her and she was trying to pass herself off as a relative to him because that someone realized Danny was the biggest threat, or, his false death has been compromised, his mother was unable to tell him, and the league was aware he was alive.

No matter how he looks at it, this Danielle was a threat to him, his sister, his friends, to Damian, and to the Drs. Fenton. Danyal Fenton doesn't kill, but he has no problems doing so.

(Ellie, pinned under Danny’s knee and the blade to her neck, is too terrified to think of phasing out of his hold. Not that it would help, he would just chase after her.)

“You have broken into my home, dared to lie to my face, and when I demanded to know the truth, you dared lie to me again." Danny's scowl could cower even Skulker, his glacier blue eyes burning. "Your continual breath has been a favor from me, that I have graciously allowed, from the moment you entered my room, dahkil."

"So I will ask one more time," he hisses, "who. are. you."

Danielle, only a few months old, unprepared for the ice storm that is "Daniel" Fenton, and his clone in only flesh and blood, and not memories, immediately breaks. And tells him that she was his clone, that Vlad sent her to come capture him, and to please not kill her.

Danny's face twists with anger, Ellie thinks he's going to kill her anyways. Instead, he withdraws his knife and gets off her, stringing out curses in Arabic as he sheathes his weapon back into its hiding place faster than Ellie can blink.

He switches to English as she is collecting her bearings (and contemplating fleeing), and Danny paces the room like a tiger in a cage. "--of course that wretched, arrogant, peacocking little ingrate would do something so infuriating. I should have driven my sword into the shrivel of his heart when I had the chance--"

Ellie, for a moment, thinks of leaving while he is distracted. And starts to slowly creep away. But Danny notices instantly, and whirls on her. His too-bright eyes bore into her head: "Where do you think you're going."

"...I'm leaving."

And Danny scoffs at her, "Why? So you can fly back to Masters and tell him that you failed to capture me, and that I know that he cloned me?" He says, and Ellie remains silent -- that's exactly what she was going to do. "He will destroy you within seconds."

Of course, Ellie rears back in offense, and she finds the footing to glare at him. "He would not! He's my dad, he loves me!"

Danny gets in her face, glowering back with an equal intensity. "He does not." He snaps, "Vlad Masters has not a soul in his body nor a heart in his chest. He would sooner cut off the hand that helps him stand, than to take it along with him."

"If you're really made of my blood, then I will teach you only this: we bow not our heads nor our hearts to anyone." Danny's too-blue eyes narrow, and his voice dips into a hiss, "Especially not to a conniving snake like Masters. Your heart: cut it off, or cut it out. He will sooner leave you to bleed."

Then, he unlocks the door and drags her out before she has much time to act. And as he drags her down the hall he shoots Sam and Tucker a text, and they meet up at Nasty Burger. Ellie is a spitfire, but Danny has her too intimidated to leave.

"This is Danielle," he tells them bluntly as he corners her into the booth, "she's my clone. Masters created her."

Ellie is with them for a week, and somehow throughout that time, Danny manages to actually get her to like him throughout that time. He's callous, blunt, and full of sharp edges that you can cut yourself on. But when he's not spitting venom, he's fretting.

When he drags her back to the house after being with Sam and Tucker, he pulls her to Jazz's room and opens the door to tell her the same thing. "This is Danielle." He says upon abruptly opening the door, interrupting Jazz's studying as he pulls Ellie inside. "She is my clone, Masters created her. She needs clothes."

Then he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Ellie, in that moment, thinks that now's her chance to flee. But Jazz then squeals, and she is trapped in new arms, shaken around by Jazz Fenton, excited for a sister.

(Ellie finds herself complaining to Jazz that night, shoved into old pajamas. She's in utter disbelief that Jazz could care about a jerk like Danny.)

("He's rough around the edges, but Danny does care." Jazz tells her, combing through her hair with her fingers. "We've been working on it ever since he joined the family, but Danny warms up slowly. He's usually less stoney; I think your arrival spooked him.")

("Spooked him?" Ellie repeats, she doesn't believe it at all. "He has a funny way of showing it, he threatened to kill me!" And she turns around just in time to see Jazz's press her lips into a line.)

("He's... very protective. He'll deny if you ask him, but he worries a lot." Jazz's fingers find her hair again. "What I do know for certain though, is that he wouldn't have kept you here if he wasn't worried about you at least a little bit.")

(Ellie doubts it.)

But Ellie is indeed there for a week, and the day after her initially rocky introduction with Danny, he is a little bit kinder to her. Still kinda a bitch, but he's less harsh to her, if... almost uncomfortable around her. Flighty, kinda.

Whenever she gets mouthy at him though, he looks oddly smug about it and, infuriatingly enough, praises her attitude. He is very, very annoying. And still kinda terrifying. But hearing him shout insults via puns at someone during a ghost fight that happens that week lessens the intimidating factor,,, a little bit.

Things go about,,,, relatively,,,, similar to canon. In the sense that it ends with Ellie defecting from Vlad because she finds out that Danny was right and that Vlad didn't actually care about her. (And that Jazz had been right too; Danny, in his weird, mean way, had been worried about her as well)

Danny looks out of his depth as she talks about how he was right, and he cuts her off with a vaguely uncomfortable clearing of his throat. And gives her the most awkward, but genuine apology he can muster.

"I should've used more tact when telling you about Masters, and I... apologize for threatening you when we met. I was..." he makes a face like he's sucked on a particularly sour lemon, "worried. First about my family, and then later about you."

(Ellie will be damned: Jazz was right)

Before Ellie leaves, Danny puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her: "I wasn't kidding about what I said to you when we first met: you are of my blood, and as such, you do not bow your head nor your heart to anyone."

Ellie looks at him, thinks about the last week, and smiles like she's caught him in a trap. "What about Sam and Tucker then? And Jazz?"

Danny smiles, it's awkward and tilted, like his face isn't used to the gesture. "We bow not our hearts, but that doesn't mean we can't share."

[soullessdianthus]

w: hinted dark themes, dark romance?

Victorian AU where Reader moves to the secluded manor in the countryside as Lord Simon Riley has hired her to be a caretaker of the house. She barely sees him around, an odd yet respected man, but the cheery gardener Johnny keeps her company most of the time, walking by her side through the lawn swallowed by thick mist. 

As the winter approaches, she realizes there are no other living souls in the house than her, the Lord and Johnny. Some lies had been told and she started to doubt Simon’s true intentions of her stay here.

Something about that old manor is unsettling. Or rather, its residents.

Working on a longer piece, just need your patience. If you're interested.👉👈

[jackson-imbecille]

Probably got so excited he forgot about the language barrier.

Dannymay Day 29: Ghost Speak AU

[sykloni]

Dannymay 2023

29. Ghost Speak AU

This is a ghost speak AU where (most) ghosts only speak ghost speak (they cannot make sounds resembling human) and Danny has had to adapt to the reality he is not able to speak English as a ghost.