#Question is can Danny communicate with ducks

[puppetmaster13u]

Okay, but, hear me out @illya-roma : Combine this with Danny being Jason's equivalent from his dimension, making any DNA tests (hey, they don't know what sort of medical issues a duck-turned-teen might have!) show them being related.

So now the bats are under the impression that the fucking wish that the joker of all people made, made Duck hood Jason's child.

Quacked up

Danny never thought that Desiree was serious on her threats, or at least the threats that had to do with "turning him into a duck and abandoning him in another dimension."

But it seems that even ghost genies had their limits, because the third time he "ruined her plans," she made good on her threat. Danny wasn't worried about Amity, Team Phantom could take care of that just fine.

He was more concerned about his webbed feet and duckbill. Plus the fact that he showed up in the middle of a warehouse occupied by mobsters, although the supposed mobsters were more involved in trying to catch him (were his ears wrong or had he heard an "aww"?) than killing him. One of them even named him "Duck Hood."

Jason didn't know how to feel watching all his employees chase a duck. It was a weird duck, with glowing green eyes (was it possible for a duck to dive into the pits??), and he was sure he saw it float by at some point, but at least his "lair" was a little more lively.

He wondered if he should give it to Damian or keep it.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Double Date (part 6.5)

Better late then never here's the mentioned double date between Harley and Ivey, and Hyena and Hood. It's unedited so please point out any errors you find.

Previous | Masterpost | Next

They really should have expected this when Harley had mentioned Jason and Danny joining her and Pam for a double date. Of course Harley would forget to actually plan, and would just show up, dressed to the nines with Pam on her arm yelling about an event at Penguin's club.

"Come on! we're going to be late for karaoke!" Harley yelled before she processed that Hood had ducked to hide his face and Hyena had a gun trained on them, his mouth stretched too wide in a snarl. "Oh, oops," She said sheepishly as Pam sighed and shook her head.

"Harley, did you forget to tell them we were coming?" Pam questioned with fond exasperation.

"No she did not," Jason said, returning with his helmet on and offering Danny his muzzle. Danny shrugged and took it though he didn't put it on right away. "She mentioned a double date when she brought Danny the flowers but we hadn't heard anything since."

"Oh shoot I'm sorry guys! I got so excited I guess I made the plan in my head! I could have sworn I'd asked," Harley apologized, pouting at the two of them. "Can we still go out though? I really want to do the Karaoke night, I was really looking forward to going with both of you."

Jason glanced at Danny, who glanced back at him, first uncertainly, then when Jason shrugged indicating he didn't mind, with puppydog eyes. Danny wanted to go. Jason sighed. "Fine, get out and give us 20 minutes to get ready and then we can go."

Harley cheered and Danny grinned, scrambling off to their bedroom to grab their clothes. Danny decided on a pair of leather pants and a shirt just sheer enough that his scars weren't obvious, and a more casual cloth facemask with a pattern of bared fangs. It covered his mouth and nose but he could slip a straw under it to have a drink, and it wouldn't muffle his voice too much when they sang.

Jason chose black pants, a red shirt, a brown leather jacket with plenty of concealed weapons, and a wide domino mask. He also took a minute to colour the white streak in his hair black so he'd be less distinctive, insisting Danny did the same, once he'd finished his eyeliner. Danny groaned about it but did it anyway.

"Okay, we're ready to go?" Jason asked, checking Danny out. He sure as hell looked ready for a night out on the town, he looked so fucking good with eyeliner, and those tight black black leather pants... No, Jason couldn't focus on that!

Danny, who smiled with his eyes and nodded eagerly, grabbing Jason's hand and dragging him towards the door. "We're ready to go!" He cheered as soon as he spotted Harley, who immediately cheered as well and lunged forward to hug Danny tightly as he laughed.

"Good now let's go! We're already late!" Harley babbled, dragging Danny towards the door as Pam and Jason followed at a more languid pace.

"And who's fault is that Harls?" Pam chided gently. "You need to learn how to communicate plans like this with people."

"I know, but I really thought I had," Harley said with a pout as she continued to drag Hyena out of the building and into a car they all piled into, Jason insisted on driving Eben though it wasn't his car because he couldn't imagine Harley was a good driver. Pam laughed and said she wasn't while Harley pouted, Jason drove.

They arrived at the iceberg lounge with no trouble. IDs weren't needed to enter, just being recognized as one of Gotham's rogues and since right now Hood and Hyena were practically royalty they were welcomed with open arms. Penguin even got them a last minute table and comped their first bottle, he knew it would pay to stay on the good side of Gotham's new power couple after all. Harley chugged her first glass of bubbly and took off to put her name down for the song she wanted.

"She's not a half bad singer," Pam assured them as she sipped her own glass of champagne more slowly. "Are either of you going to sing?"

Jason glanced over at Danny, who seemed to be hesitating, looking uncertain. Jason shifted closer and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend's waist. "Do it if you want to, I'll go up with you," he encouraged and Danny relaxed a bit.

Danny turned a little to whisper into Jason's ear. "I don't really sing, I'm good at it but since I'm a banshee my voice can be powerful. I've always been worried that singing will have, I don't know, do something?" He said like a question.

"Has it ever done anything?" Jason asked and Danny hesitated before shaking his head.

"No, not unless I scream," Danny admitted reluctantly.

"Alright, then we'll give it a try," Jason assured, kissing the side of Danny’s head before taking a sip of his drink.

Danny nodded and grabbed a straw, slipping it into the drink so he could sip it. Pam topped up their drinks when they were half empty.

"So what song do you think you want to do? Harley'll probably drag me up to do a duet. I always say I won't but she gets me with those puppy-dog eyes," she chuckled fondly, clearly not actually upset about that.

"Oh I know the feeling," Jason agreed, shaking his head.

"I have excellent puppydog eyes," Danny chirped, snuggling closer. Jason rolled his eyes behind his mask.

"I bet he does," Pam laughed softly, amused by the two of them.

"What song should we do? Do you think they have Come With Me Now? We've sung that one together before? Or Vicious, No no! We should do Zombie Love!" Danny suggested sounding excited, though that might just be two glasses of champagne in a body unused to managing alcohol. As long as Danny’s ghostly abilities didn't clear toxins as quickly as physical injuries.

"They can find whatever you want," Pam promised with a snicker. "Pangoo wants to be on both your good sides really bad."

Jason snorted, leaning back against the booth with a crooked and cocky grin. "He knows what my rules are, everyone does, follow them and we'll be fine," he said with a careless little wave.

"Oh don't tell him that!" Harley said, popping out of nowhere and making Jason and Danny jump. "It's so fun watching him scramble," she snickered, flopping down next to Pam, wrapping her arms around Pam's neck. "Come sing with meee," she pleaded as Pam poured her another drink.

"Harley you promised you wouldn't make me this time," Pam chided her without any heat. She didn't actually mind it seemed.

"We'll go first and you can talk her into it," Danny cackled, grabbing Jason's hand and dragging him up and over to the sign-in desk.

They signed up to do Zombie Love because they both thought it was funny. It wasn’t a traditional duet or anything but they could sing it together, that seemed to make Danny feel better too. His voice was beautiful, and he kept his distance from the mic so it wouldn't be too loud because he had very powerful lungs. He seemed more interested in practically grinding on Jason anyway, who was just trying very hard not to blush and potentially taint his fearsome reputation by blushing at his boyfriend's antics.

Harley was whooping and wolf whistling at them excitedly before the song ended and Danny dragged Jason back off the stage laughing breathlessly. He seemed thrilled as he pressed himself against Jason purring under the cover of the music and nuzzling against his neck.

"Hyena we're in public," Jason half joked with his hands gripping Danny's hips too tightly.

"No one's going to say anything, they're scared of us," Danny murmured into Jason's ear making him shiver.

"Hey lovebirds! We supported you while you sang!" Harley accused them, bouncing over to practically pry the two of them apart.

Danny let go while laughing, smiling at Harley with his eyes. "So did you two decide what you're going to sing?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"Ya! We're going to do Promiscuous Girl," Harley yipped, Ivy just smiling at her indulgently.

"Then of course we'll cheer you on! But then we're going to dance!" Danny insisted with a wicked glint in his eye that nearly had Jason swooning. Oh he was absolutely going to be pent up and suffering by the end of the night. They should do things like this more often.

Harley and Ivy's duet was pretty good, Pam kept Harley from going too off key and they were clearly having fun. Jason decided to be more stoic about his support, nodding his head to the beat and letting Danny howl and whistle for the both of them. They both clapped when they finished and Harley bounced off the stage again with Pam close in tow.

Danny grabbed Jason and dragged him to the dance floor, and Jason wondered how he could be so graceful and confident in a fight and so fucking lost on the dance floor. He was too aware of his body, and the eyes that were on him and didn't fully know how to behave. Thankfully Danny made sure that didn't last long as he dragged Jason into dancing with him. Jason was content to be essentially a prop and watch as Danny moved with more sensual grace than he had any right to be, flowing with the music in a way that was almost hypnotic.

Jason only became aware that other people thought so too when Harley cut in demanding to dance with Danny as well! Jason chuckled and relinquished Danny to her, going to sit back at their table with Pam. Only then did he notice all the people staring at Danny, the little ring of watchers they'd acquired.

"Is he part siren or something?" Ivy teased him as Jason drank a glass of.. something probably too quickly.

"Something like that," Jason agreed vaguely. "Why are the Gotham City Sirens recruiting?"

"No, but the Birds of Prey might be," Ivy said, smirking at him.

"Hey, no planning to steal my boyfriend," Hood joked, his eyes drawn back to Danny and Harley dancing together. It was... something, they were both completely unaware of the eyes on them, confident and at home in their bodies and sexuality. It was quite the show, and Jason was just glad he was the one Danny would be coming home with.

"Can we borrow him at least?" She asked playfully.

"Weelll I suppose if he agrees to it I can't be too mad," Jason relented, hesitation only for show. They would be good friends to Hyena he was sure.

"Good, now let's just enjoy the night, and how fucking sexy our partners are." Pam said, raising her glass to Jason in a toast, which he returned, clinking his glass against hers.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

To seek freedom

ectoberhaunt2023 day 10- occultism TW- mind control summary- The Justice League is trying everything they can to free Danny.

ao3 ectoberhaunt2023 masterlist Part 2 of ITR

The Red is like a river. Sometimes it is gentle, lulling; other times it is rushes by underwater currents dragging him under to drown.

Sometimes it feels like there is someone on the shore shouting at him, but then the water fills his ears and his head dips under its currents.

Only faint echoes breach the Red around his mind. Feeling, thoughts, sometimes pain it all becomes muddled and if Danny spends too long trying to puzzle it out the Red becomes violent pulling him under to drown.

It’s best to let him lull him to sleep. To be a memory in his own body. It’s safer that way

It had been two weeks and the Justice League was finding out that they are unprepared to face down whatever Danny was. The cultist had claimed he was a ghost, but Danny’s medical file showed he had the signs of a living human. Of course, there was always the possibility that it was faked. But Deadman, the ghost who worked for the JLD, was invisible and intangible. Danny wasn’t.

When Batman had questioned Constantine the man had shrugged and said all he knew was that Danny came from a long line of occultists and that he wasn’t supposed to be this powerful.

Did the artifact give him the power? But if so, why didn’t the occultist use it on himself?

Batman went over his file again and had to clench his teeth at the lack of information. He’d have to give the JLD another presentation about proper background checks.

Name: Daniel Nightingale

Family: UnknownPrevious employment: Nasty Burger cashier

Magical ability: can sense spirits and magical artifacts, can see some mid-level spirits

Batman frowned.

He’d already tried looking into what Danny could have meant by ‘Manson.’ But there were no conclusive answers on that front either. It was most likely a person, but it could also be a place or an object.

He’d already looked up the name Manson and there were a lot of results. And without more information on Danny it was impossible to tell if he had any connection with any of them. And when Bruce searched for any mention of Danny in the information he’d compiled about the most likely Manson he also came up blank.

He was about to run the search again, or at least try and narrow down the list of options when his communicator rang.

Danny had been spotted robbing a bank.

---------------------

Batman, Superman, Flash and Green Lantern made it first with Constaninte saying he was on his way.

Bruce arrived just in time to see Superman crash onto the street. Danny floated above the street, his eyes glowing red. His clothes were ragged and his face was gaunt.

It was obvious the cultist hadn’t allowed him to eat or rest. If they didn’t capture him soon, Danny might die.

At least he had proven himself resilient in past fights, taking hits that would have knocked Superman down.

“Green Lantern” Bruce spoke into his comm, “distract him until you can get him cornered, then Superman, I need you to try and knock him out.” According to their past interactions, Danny struggled to go intangible through Hal’s constructs but it should hold him for a while. If they could distract him long enough then knock him out, they might be able to end this quickly without hurting Danny too much.

They all gave confirmation and Hal flew up and swung a giant bat at Danny who ducked down. This continued as Hal attacked with several different constructs.

Hal had just made contact and trapped Danny in a cage. Danny had started to try to push through when Hall suddenly dropped it and Superman rushed forward and landed a punch that slammed Danny into the ground.

They had almost reached him when Danny’s eyes opened and for a moment they were blue before they flickered back to red. Bruce threw a tracker in his direction, but Danny went intangible and sunk through the ground.

[redgoldblue]

hozier & lake street dive titled ones please heehee 🍓

love won't you be as you've always been (Good Omens)

I refuse to acknowledge that this one may well never come to completion/publication because i love it too much. it's set a couple weeks post-canon (book canon, ignoring anything that may happen in show s2) when Crowley and Aziraphale decide to go on their first proper date only none of their ideas for Proper Date Activities People Do On Dates work out until they finally go 'fuck it let's go watch the ducks'. it has footnotes.

“This is fine. Thisss is fine. Right?”

When there was no reply, Crowley directed a menacing stare and an equally menacing mister at the plant he was talking to. “Right?”

It wobbled slightly in response.

“Ssss.”

Crowley was definitely not nervous, because demons didn’t get nervous, especially not Anthony J. Crowley.[1] And especially not about spending time with someone he had been spending time with for approximately 6000 years. However, he had been hovering in the greenhouse for the last 20 minutes, before which he had been hovering in front of his closet. And the plants were all rather unsettled by the way in which he’d been talking to them, namely, with very little authority and a lot of questions. Most of which he then answered himself, but nevertheless. These were trying times for plants which couldn’t communicate beyond the occasional leaf shudder.

[1] This was a lie. Anthony J. Crowley got nervous every time he jaywalked.

you're in a state of disrepair, you're an answer to my prayers (H50)

heh. well. i've been talking about this one in tags and dms (to people who care about h50) for. a while now. it's currently almost 16k and i'm predicting will probably be 25-30k when it's done which will not be until mid-2023 at the earliest so i will continue seizing any opportunity to ramble about it until then bc it is like a spouse or a neurological infection to me at this point. I've given the basic premise on here before but essentially it's... an unspecified amount of time but probably something like a couple of months post-canon, Steve's still on his Mental Health Trip with Cath when he passes out and gets hospitalised while they try to figure out which of his myriad medical issues caused it. Danny, obviously, flies out bc to quote Steve in it, "When have I ever gone home without you coming to get me?” (although, also to quote Steve later in the same conversation, “I would’ve come home to you anyway.”). They spend basically the entire thing pretending to be a couple in front of the medical staff and pretending not to be a couple in front of friends and family. the latter is much more of a pretense and they're much worse at it. as shown in the two snippets below:

(1)

[...] Danny turns to the nurse, and tells her, “Sorry.” He’s not sure specifically what it’s for, but he’s pretty certain she deserves some sort of apology for having to witness all that.

She smiles and shakes her head. “It’s fine. It seemed to keep his BP steady and lowering, actually.”

“Really?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns back to Steve. “You’re fucked in the head, boy.”

Steve laughs, easy and loose, and pulls Danny closer by the front of his t-shirt. Danny moves with it, because it’s easier than the alternative and also maybe because he wants to be closer, and ends up sitting on the bed next to him. “Yeah,” Steve says, “I’m sure hearing that your partner loves you inevitably raises most people’s blood pressure.”

“That’s not-” Danny says, then gives up before he can even start trying to explain what he meant. Steve knows, anyway, he’s just being difficult. And anything that helps get him through medical crisis number two thousand and three can only be a good thing. “Yeah, okay. If I keep saying it, do you think it will keep bringing it down?”

“Can’t hurt.” 

Danny rests his left hand on the back of Steve’s neck, holding him steady, and says, “I love you,” before kissing the top of his head. “I love you,” he repeats, and kisses him again. “I love you.”

(2)

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

“Landed on it when I fell,” Steve explains, and wipes the wince from his face like that’ll get Danny to forget about it. “It’s fine, just bruised.”

“Let me see.” He’s already reaching over, so Steve’s faint, “The doctors already looked at it,” falls on, if not deaf, at least uncaring ears. It’s not like he makes any move to stop Danny from pushing the stylish little number that is his hospital gown off the shoulder in question. Everyone here’s seen it all already.

He wasn’t kidding about the bruise. It’s spread across the peak of his shoulder, stopping just above his tattoo, and it’s starting to come up purple. Even apart from how painful it looks by itself, it suddenly drives home the fact that Steve had fallen. This wasn’t a staggering collapse kind of a bruise, it was passing out, all the way into unconsciousness.

“They gave me painkillers,” Steve says, and Danny realises he’s skimming his fingers across the edges of it. He pulls his hand back, an apology on his lips, but Steve reaches up and takes hold of his hand before it’s halfway across his chest. “It’s okay,” he tells Danny.

Danny accepts that Steve had heard what he hadn’t actually said yet, and clarifies, “I wasn’t gonna say sorry for wanting to see it. I just thought touching it might have hurt. That’s a motherfucker, Steve.”

“Yeah, I think that was what the doctor put in the file. ‘During bout of syncope, patient sustained a motherfucker.’”

Danny laughs, and Steve smiles at him, muted and warm and satisfied, and lets go of his hand.

When Danny looks away from Steve’s smile, Cath is watching them with an odd expression.

“What?” Danny asks.

She shakes her head. “Nothing. I heard you’ve been living in Steve’s house.”

send me a wip name and i'll tell you things about it/present a snippet! show and tell!

[noir-renard]

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

Clark looked up from the coffee he was doctoring. Caffeine didn't really do anything for him—Kryptonian DNA had some downsides, after all—but he liked the taste. Even if Bruce always raised a very loud and judgemental eyebrow while he asked Clark if he’d like some coffee with his sugar and cream.

But Bruce and his judgmental eyebrows weren’t here. Dick, on the other hand, was. 

Dick was here, on the Watchtower, which wasn't normal but wasn't uncommon either— especially recently. He seemed to have something of a celebrity crush on Danny Fenton. After the whole Brainiac Debacle, Danny was Dick’s 'new favorite hero'. Understandable, really, considering Danny had saved their collective bacon and barely broken a sweat doing it.

The puns and the quipping probably didn’t hurt Danny’s image in Dick’s book, either.

So. Dick had been hanging around the Watchtower more often—mostly with Danny. It felt like it had been weeks since Clark had had an actual conversation with Dick.

Dick wasn’t talking to Danny right now, though. He was talking to Clark. Sort of.

"I don't know," said Clark, sipping his coffee, "can you ask me a serious question?"

Dick shot him a glare that was all Bruce—annoyed but fond.

"You're worse than Mrs.Higgins."

"Who is Mrs.Hig—"

"Serious question time," Dick interrupted. "Why don't you read employee resumes?"

"Resumes?"

"Personnel files and stuff. For support staff. Of the JL."

Clark stirred another spoonful of sugar into his coffee. He didn’t know what this was about, but a serious question demanded a serious answer.

"Well. I'm not part of the League's HR, I don't interview support staff, and it's not really my purview.” He sipped his coffee. It needed something. More cream, maybe. “Also, most science folks don't like non-science folk meddling in their business, I've found."

Dick didn't look impressed. He was in that stage of being a teenager, apparently.

"Meddling is like, literally your job twice over."

"I'm not sure—"

"Investigative is right in the title."

There was no one else around, and Clark wasn't as anal-retentive about his civilian identity as some he could mention, but Dick would never even hint at private information like that without good reason.

Dick was right about one thing though: Clark was a journalist. He might not be a detective, but he could put context clues together easily enough.

"Is this about Danny?"

"Not specifically," Dick lied. 

Clark sighed and sat down next to Dick. "I don't investigate people without reason. He works here, so that's all I need to know."

"B said you were all butt-hurt that Danny didn't 'share' his whole deal with you,” Dick countered. 

Clark was one hundred percent certain that was not how Bruce had phrased it. Just as certain as he was that Bruce was annoyed about something. Figuring out what Bruce meant by the things he did and didn’t say was something Clark had down to an art form. Filtering what Bruce meant by the things he did and didn’t say through Dick’s own unique way of communication, however, was a work in progress.

So, the facts: Bruce was annoyed about something involving Clark and Danny; Dick was speaking to Clark for the first time in weeks about Said Something; Said Something involved files, and Danny, and information Clark didn’t have—

Ah.

"I didn't read Danny’s files because I didn’t want to pry and it’s frankly none of my business—"

"But you did speculate." 

Dick stared out the window, watching the earth pass by beneath them. 

Rather than interrupt what felt like an important silence, Clark waited for Dick to say what he wanted to say.

"I just think,” Dick began slowly, “that rather than assume he's Mister Freeze's son—which doesn't even make sense by the way—you should do some basic fact-checking. Like, put 'Fenton' in a duck-duck-go search or something."

It was then that Clark was struck with the uncomfortable realization that he'd disappointed Dick.

"I know Danny isn't Dr.Fries' son," Clark explained. "That was Barry's theory."

"Barry's theory that you didn't discourage."

"Sometimes you have to let Barry spitball until he comes around to what he really means to say."

Clark certainly had enough experience with it, as one of the people who could physically keep up with the speed Barry sometimes talked.

Dick crossed his arms, unimpressed. “None of you need to spitball. You’re supposed to be good at communicating.”

Danny walked past them into the Watchtower kitchen then. Well, he walked through the wall, stuck his hand and head through the fridge, pulled out a snack, and left.

He'd been fiddling with the specs for something the whole time and hadn't noticed Clark and Dick sitting there. 

"That was—what was—?"

Dick stood up. "I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

He followed after Danny, a new spring in his step.

Maybe Clark should indulge the inherent nosiness of his day job, his life's calling, and being from a small town in Kansas—just a smidge—and read some personnel files.

Later, though. He couldn’t just go reading Danny’s personal information right after Dick all but told him to just because Dick told him to. He'd do it in his own time.

.

.

.

Clark still had yet to read Danny’s file when a Boom Tube opened up inside the Watchtower, Darkseid one foot through with just Danny and Clark there to stop him.

There wasn’t even time to panic. Danny just said, "Not today, Satan," and…covered the Boom Tube with some kind of green goo? From his hands?

"Fngh?" Said Clark, not even sure what he was trying to say.

Danny shrugged. "Not in the mood for Apokolips bulls—uh, bologna today."

Clark's brain and mouth caught up with each other then. 

"What did you do?"

"I put a lid on it."

"On…the Boom Tube?"

Danny shrugged again.

"It's an extra-dimensional wormhole," Clark said slowly, "You can't put a lid on it."

"You can if you don’t think too much about why it shouldn't work."

Clark opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought for a second. "Physics isn't a suggestion you can avoid by not thinking about it too much."

Danny smirked and jerked his head at the Green-Capped (lidded?) Boom Tube hovering ominously in the middle of the control room.

"Tell that to the Boom Tube."

There was really no good way to respond to something like that. Best just to move on. 

"They could still make a Boom Tube somewhere else."

"Yeah. But right now they're dealing with a ghost invasion, so I think we're good."

"What?" Said Clark, lost, yet again. "How do you know that?"

Danny looked back and forth between the Boom Tube (Green Capped) and Clark like the answer was obvious.

It was not.

"Anyway," Danny continued, "if those assho—I mean…jerks? Yeah. If those jerks know what's good for them and go home."

"And if they don't?"

"You know what they say: uh…muck around, find out."

So. Danny could, apparently, put a lid on a Boom Tube, but didn't want to curse in front of Clark. Not the thing to focus on here, but it was the least insane thing that had happened to him today.

"You can speak freely, you know. I don’t care."

"Oh, thank fuck."

Like that, the conversation was over. For Danny, anyway. He wandered off, muttering something about making a "Boom Tube Lid Gun for Next Time."

It wasn’t until later, once Clark had calmed down from the adrenaline of nearly having to fight Darkseid single-handedly and then, abruptly, not having to do that, that he was able to gather himself enough to access Danny Fenton's file and figure out what on God's green earth his deal was.

He was left with more questions than answers, but Clark decided to take Danny’s advice and not think about it too much and hope that made it make sense.

It didn't, but at least Clark knew now there was no reason not to worry when Danny only had a heartbeat half the time.

And if, a week later, Clark found a blue and red…device in his locker (it looked like a cross between a net gun and a water gun) labeled "Superman's Not Today Satan Super Soaker", well. Clark would do what his ma taught him and send Danny a thank you card and a casserole and never bring it up again.

But if Barry walked by, muttering about ice villains and why were there so many of them, and if Clark used that opportunity to tell him he'd been closer with his Captain Cold guess, but still wrong, and that Danny's situation was more like Barry's own, well. Hopefully, Barry would take the hint to do some reading.

Unfortunately—

"Danny got his powers from the Cold Force? Huh.” Barry frowned. “I didn't know there was such a thing as a Cold Force. That explains everything."

"…it does?"

"Yeah! Like why there are so many ice villains!"

Clark sighed. He’d planned to let Barry realize on his own that he should read Danny’s file, but maybe it was better just to tell him.

"Listen, Barry, I don't think that's actually—"

"Oh! Maybe that's why you have ice breath! A gift from the Cold Force! I always said that didn't make sense. Why would the sun give you ice powers?"

On second thought. Reading and investigation were important skills. Barry could figure it out on his own.

"Maybe you're right, Barry." He clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I bet there is a Cold Force, just like the Speed Force. I bet there’s a whole bunch of Forces out there."

Bruce caught his eye from across the room. His mouth was set in a particular way Clark recognized, caught between exasperation and amusement. You see what I have to put up with? He seemed to say.

As Barry rambled on about the different kinds of Forces that might be out there, Bruce stood up, melting away from the conversation he hadn’t exactly joined to begin with.

“Where are you going?” asked Barry, proving he could be observant when it suited him.

“I have some pre-emptive adjustments to make to Danny’s PTO.”

“Oh?” said Barry.

“Hm,” said Bruce.

He was probably right. Casserole and a thank you card wasn’t gonna cut it.

a lot of people asked to be tagged if this got updated but there are just. too many to go through. I'm sorry OnO

Short DPXDC Prompts #648

The League gets incredibly concerned that their main tech mechanic, Danny Fenton, has instances of his heart or breathing randomly stopping. His skin is cold as ice and his skin is deathly pale.

Danny didn’t realize that the League doesn’t look at hiring applications. If they did they would have seen that he put being a half ghost on his resume.

[elenamiria]

Danny Torrance x Reader - Kinktober Day 30

Temperature Play | Sixty-Nine | Dub-Con | Xenophilia

Word Count:  4.5k (🤡 oops) Warnings: Dub-con! Possessed!Danny, fem reader,  violence against reader, choking (in a non sexual way), brief oral (f receiving), Biting and marking, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, rough sex, slight daddy kink, feelings (fluff and slight angst)

Kinktober Day 29 «  Kinktober Masterlist »  Kinktober Day 31

Main Masterlist & Taggies: @legally-a-bastard​ , @katrynec​ , @mistermiraclee​ , @obitwo​ , @justanotherblonde23​

When Danny had come home distraught you heard him heading up the stairs to his room, yours being below his, and thought maybe you should go check on him. You hadn't at first, not wanting to disturb him, he was closer to Billy than he was to you so you worried it might be odd just showing up.  Billy had introduced the two of you and you all had dinner together a few times a week when Danny was off. You had a soft spot for Danny, the way he always seemed to know when something was bothering you, his kind eyes and smile, and his soft, caring nature all drew you towards him. Not that you would ever admit your little crush to him, he never seemed to look your way twice. But, when you heard a smashing noise and glass skittering across the ceiling you decided that maybe you should in fact go see if he was alright. 

The door was ajar and you slowly entered the room. He was against the black wall, hands pressing firmly into it, and you called out his name softly. As you got closer you could hear him speaking but it wasn't to you. Unsure of what to do you stood there until he jolted towards the wall with a gasp - like he was waking up from a trance. You called out to him again and he spun to you eyes wide. You stepped back for a second at the wild look on his face and then quickly approached when you noticed the blood on his upper lip. Reaching up you gently trailed your fingers down his cheek as you whispered, "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head, still breathing heavily and he replied, "No, I'm fine but Abra. I have to go get her, they took her."

A million questions ran through your head but he had a desperate look about him and so you simply said, "How can I help?"

You could hardly believe the tale Danny told you on the way to pick up Abra but you knew he was telling the truth, the way he looked at you as if begging for you to trust him only confirmed that. It was a good thing you agreed to come along Danny was exhausted and when you offered to take over driving so he could rest he happily accepted. 

Now the three of you were on your way to the Overlook Hotel and an uncomfortable feeling was sitting heavily in your stomach. You couldn't shake the feeling despite the determination that your two companions seemed to have and you knew Danny could tell something was going on by the way he kept glancing at you. When you stopped at the gas station at the bottom of the mountain you were tense you couldn't tell if your body wanted to scream or cry or both but something in you was telling you to run far far away from the hotel you were heading towards and never look back. Dan laid a warm hand on your knee and your gaze snapped from the mountain to him. He offered you and then Abra a small smile before he lowly stated, "Not too much further, up the mountain." 

When his hand left you to return to the steering wheel you wanted nothing more than to chase after it and interlace your fingers together but you shook the feeling off as just your nerves besides now was not exactly the time for romance.

As you gazed into the gaping maw of the hotel you could feel your whole body trembling and you knew it wasn't due to the snow falling around you. As Danny explained that he wanted Abra to wait in the car you stood patiently waiting to see what your role would be in all of this. Danny finally turned to you as Abra retreated into the car, "I want you to wait with her. When we're in there you stay with her the whole time, that way if something happens to me she'll have you."

You blinked up at him, shivering slightly as you replied - "If it's dangerous for you shouldn't you have someone come with you. I'm not like you two, right? So maybe I could help you."

Danny smiled at you, "You are like us, you just don't know. Billy was like us too, he could always sense people, he could tell who they were before he'd even say hello. You, right now you're shaking and it's because you can sense things too."

His arms grasped your elbows, your arms tightly wrapping around yourself, "So you'll stay with Abra, I'll go in alone. I'll be alright"

You hesitantly nodded, sharing a long look at each other as if trying to communicate words unspoken before you retreated to the car and watched Dan Torrance walk into the overlook hotel. 

It wasn't long before Abra was calling Dan back out to you and the three of you were heading into the hotel together this time, Abra clutching onto both you and Danny. From there everything happened so quickly you barely had time to process it all. One second everything seemed to be going according to plan and the next everything went to hell. Danny had ordered you and Abra to run and so you did, holding the young girl's hand tightly terrified of losing her to this place.    You could hear Danny's screams as they echoed through the abandoned halls and you had to stop yourself from going back for him. When you and Abra ran into the the twins you knew something had happened to Danny and you wrapped a protective arm around Abra. Slowly you tugged her backwards away from the twins and turned to go back down the hall, freezing once you saw Danny. Abra spoke but you couldn't focus what she was saying as blood rushed through your ears, every atom of your being screaming at you to run. You found yourself whispering the word 'run' aloud as Danny lifted his head and pure terror rushed through you. Abra sprinted ahead of you, still holding onto your hand as the two of you fled. You let her take the lead as she seemed sure in her path, though there was nothing to assure you that it wasn't the hotel leading you to certain doom. 

Ducking into room 237 you pushed her behind you as Danny's deranged shouts of your name and then hers filled the air, growing closer and closer. She clung to your back, small hands gripping your sides, and you bit back tears as the two of you backed further into the room. You held your breath as you watched Danny's shadow pass by the door and exhaled shakily when he seemed to pass by, you took long deep breaths - all you had to do was get to the car and you'd be fine.  You turned to Abra who was staring into the bathroom but you gently shook her, she jumped slightly before focusing on you. You were certain Dan would return and when he did you were going to distract him so Abra could escape, she tried to argue but as you positioned her next to the door you reassured her with fake smile and, “It’s alright, I’ll be right behind you.”

The door sprung open far sooner than you hoped and your heart pounded in your chest as Danny advanced. His gaze intense, his white eye staring through you as his blue eye darkened. He stalked towards you calling out your name in a low growl, “You’ve been very very bad.”

You froze as the axe came dangerously close to your face, the blunt end trailing just along the edge of your body as Danny questioned, “Where is she?”

Trembling you felt tears gather in your eyes as the cold metal of the axe slid up your cheek and you choked out, “I don’t know we went separately.”

You could see Abra in your peripheral vision slowly sneaking out of the room and you wanted to sigh in relief but your attention was quickly brought back to Dan’s face as his eyes narrowed at you, “Naughty girl, I told you to stay with her and now you don’t know where she is is that right??”

You met Abra’s hesitant eyes over Danny's shoulder as you nodded and she took off. Danny started to turn at the noise but you did your best to distract him, attempting to wrestle the axe away. 

He snarled, his voice distorted and echoing with other voices that didn't belong to him and he grabbed you by the throat lifting you effortlessly before throwing you. You slammed into the wall with a scream, falling to the floor and you let out a small whine as you tried to rise, gripping the side table next to you tightly. Dan approached you laughing as your head swam, you looked up at him tears in your eyes and he froze. His head tilted slightly as he watched you shakily fight back your sobs, his eyes narrowed - "How interesting." 

You were hauled to your feet by a firm hand grasping your hair and wrenching your head to the side, Danny buried his face into your neck. Inhaling deeply there was another harsh laugh and then, "You smell so so delicious."

He bit harshly into the junction between your neck and shoulder causing you to cry out in pain that quickly morphed into a whimper as he suckled and lapped at the spot. 

"W-what are you doing, Danny?" You knew the question was pointless as this wasn't your Danny. However you received a response though it didn't answer anything, "We're going to do what he was too afraid to."

Danny had dropped the axe at some point and his hand slid up your body to grope at your breasts before gripping your throat tightly. You gasped for air before Dan's mouth enveloped yours in a hot and needy kiss, his tongue slipping easily into your parted mouth. Your eyes slid shut as you tried to pretend that this was actually Danny kissing you and not whatever was currently possessing his body, when you didn't respond he tightened his hand cutting off your air supply. Your hands shot to his arm, scraping at his jacket desperately to pull him off, and your eyes flew open again. He pulled back, breathing heavily, as his eyes trailed you up and down. A half smirk covered his face as he spoke, this time sounding more like himself just low and gravelly, "Don't act like you don't like this dove. I can sense your arousal. Just let us in, let us feast on you."

His hand finally relaxed just as your vision had started to go blurry and you gasped harshly for air, barely able to get any before once again his lips were devouring yours. You moaned into his mouth when Danny slipped his hands under your shirt, sliding up to your tits and he grabbed at them with an appreciative moan of his own. He played with your nipples, pinching and pulling just hard enough that there was a slight sting and enough to make you cry out in pleasure. His lips pulled apart from yours after swallowing down every little noise you made while he played with you and trailed to your neck. 

Danny looked up at you, his milky eye seeming to pierce your soul, before he bit once again though this time higher up. He seemed to delight in the cry that flew from your mouth. He continued his treatment as his hands made quick work of your clothing, tearing it away when it wasn't easy to take off. You called out his name in alarm as he ripped your shirt in half but he simply grinned as he once again teased your breasts. He continued marking you down your neck and collarbone until he reached your chest. Whispering 'mine.' before biting harshly at the tops of your tits and sucking marks into them. 

You grasped at the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair and tugging slightly as he bit at you. His eyes snapped up to your face and your breath hitched at the feral look in his eyes. He stood up to his full height locking eyes with you while his hands trailed down your body to your waist, gripping hard enough you knew there were going to be bruises. He spun you around, pushing you hard into the wall, hands tugging your pants and underwear down your legs. You trembled as your face pressed against the cold plaster, shivering as your body was exposed to the cold air. 

Danny knelt on the ground as he pulled your legs free of their clothing, warm palms grasping at your ass before spreading you apart and baring your wet cunt to him. You heard him inhale deeply and you yelped as once again Danny bit you, this time your sensitive inner thigh. He whispered 'mine' again before his tongue licked up your thigh up to your pussy. He licked three long lines up the entire length of your slit, groaning each time he tasted your sweet juices, his tongue pressing flat and wide against you. The fourth time he trailed his tongue through your lips, down your thigh, over your ass cheek and all the way up your spine until he rose behind you and pressed his body into yours. 

Dan's clothing dug into your soft skin as he repositioned you, yanking your hips backwards but pressing your face harder into the wall. You couldn't help the garbled moan that flew past your lips when you felt his hard length pressing into you from behind. Your body, seemingly moving of it's own accord, ground into his cock pleading for him. 

"Patience, dove. We have all the time we need." He growled out, his hands fumbling with his jeans. He undid them just enough to pull out his cock, hard and throbbing, as you tried to glance behind you to look at him. His hands returned to your body, one burying itself in your hair to keep you still and his other arm wrapping around your hips to pull you back towards him and then without warning he was inside you. 

You screamed, startled at the harsh intrusion, as his length filled you. He stretched your tight little cunt out but you were so soaked he was able to slip inside without a problem. You heard a deep moan from him as his hips starting to pull back and forth, pumping his hard cock in and out of you. His pace started slow, with powerful thrusts burying him to the hilt on each forward movement, but that didn't last for long as he growled out your name and his hands flew to your waist. His grip was hard and his rhythm animalistic as he pounded into you, pulling you harshly into him with his firm grip on you. Your whole body was jerking in time with the power of his thrusts, your hands bracing on the wall to keep from slamming your face into it over and over again as you cried out on every thrust. Your vision blurred with tears as he fucked you, pleasure overwhelming your body. 

Loud grunts echoed off the wall from behind you as he muttered out incomprehensible words mixed with light moans of your name. You begged him - "More, Danny harder! Please touch me, please!!" - as you felt your orgasm fast approaching, needing touch and stimulation elsewhere on your body. Suddenly everything was ripped away from you leaving you to pant against the wall until you were spun around. Your leg was hitched up around his hips as he plunged his rock hard cock into you once again, tearing a hoarse moan from you. His pace was brutal and one of his hands grasped your jaw harshly as he hissed, nostrils flaring, "You look at me when you cum dove. You hear me, are you gonna be a good girl for daddy?"

You cried out as his other hand circled your clit alternating between teasing touches and then pressing hard enough on the little bundle of nerves that you saw stars while he pounded away into you. Your walls clenched around him, squeezing hard, as a scream ripped from your throat when he pinched at your clit, pulling your orgasm from you. The tears that had been filling your eyes spilled over and Danny laughed before it broke off into a deep moan as your hot walls clung to him. You had stared into his eyes as he ordered when your orgasm hit but as it overwhelmed you your eyes slid shut of their own accord. You were gasping for breath as you came down and you didn't notice the way Danny's hands softened around you and how his hips slowed. 

A weak call of your name met your ears and your eyes flew open desperately. Your eyes met Danny's confused and dazed blue orbs and you gasped. Your hands flew to his face as a soft smile covered your face, "Danny, I knew you were there."

He looked down at where your bodies became one and immediately jerked back, whimpering slightly as his length pulled from your warm body. You whined, trying your best to catch your breath. Danny’s face contorted in concentration as he gripped his head, “Fuck, I can’t hold them back for much longer. You have to go!”

“No, not without you Danny.” You cried as you inched towards him, freezing when you noticed for the first time his leg. Putting your danger aside you immediately walked to him and pulled his belt from his pants, ignoring his length bobbing next to your hand, pausing only to nudge his legs apart. He called out your name again, an edge to his voice that wasn't there a moment ago, “Go now! I can’t-” 

He cut himself off with a cry as you wrapped the belt around his upper thigh and tightened it with all your strength, quickly tying it off. There was an inhuman roar and then you were once again being slammed up against the wall, both of his hands at your throat and face contorted in a snarl. Your feet lifted off the ground and for the first time in this encounter you truly feared for your life, hands scrabbling trying to pull his away. Having to fight your instincts you lifted one of your hands away to softly brush your fingertips against his face as you weakly croaked his name. Your gentle touch allowed him to gain control again as he let go of your neck, hands flying to your shoulders to support you. 

Clinging to him you coughed and sputtered as you inhaled deep gulps of air after a few moments finally listening to what Danny was saying."You have to go, I can't hold them back and I can't stop them from taking you again. Please, you need to go."

Looking at him you shook your head despite wanting to crack at his pleading eyes. You swallowed deeply as you stood straight again, "No Danny, let them take what they need from me. I'm not leaving without you."

You cupped his face softly and pressed your lips to him, kissing him tenderly. Danny hesitated for a moment before he responded with a passion that took your breath away. As he parted he looked at you with a softness that you had only dreamed about before he whispered, "If I do this they won't be gone forever, I'm not strong enough to lock them all away right now."

You nodded as you stared up with the same affection that you saw in his eyes mirrored on your face, "I know, but I'll be with you through it all. If this is what we need to do to get you out of here alive, then we'll do it. Will you take me now, before they take control again? I want to know what it's like to be loved by you."

Danny leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips, though it quickly deepened as his hand slid to your back tugging you close to him. You raised your leg and he was quick to catch it with his spare hand, angling it so it was most comfortable for you. One of your hands cupped his neck and your other trailed down his chest and stomach to grasp his cock loosely. You hadn't had time to appreciate just how big he was when you first were getting fucked but as you gently stroked his length a few times you couldn't hold back the appreciative moan as you felt his size. Lining him up with your cunt you swirled his tip through your drenched folds. Danny broke apart from you, forehead gently pressing to yours and connecting you as he asked, "Are you sure about this?"

Your answer was to press your hips forward, sinking his head into your cunt as you whimpered out a soft 'yes'. Danny pressed forward slowly easing his cock into you and even though he had been in you mere moments ago he still stretched you out deliciously. Where he had been fast and rough before he was now gentle and slow, wanting to savor every moment he had with you. His pace was slow as he pulled out only to fill you up again and again. You called out his name and he swore, face burying in your neck. Danny's hips sped up and you whimpered, his hands slid to your waist both to hold you up and to pull you as close to him as he could. He had noticed the blooming bruises on your neck and now he laved them with attention, pressing soft tender kisses to the areas and nuzzling into you. 

You could tell he was starting to lose control again as his body jerked slightly when he pulled back and his grip on your waist tightened again to the point of slight pain. His breathy moans turned into deep grunts as he sped up suddenly pounding into you like he had earlier. Clinging to him his pace practically lifted you off your feet and you squeaked as he rammed into your cervix, legs buckling. Danny's face stayed buried in your neck, though now he was focused on marking up your collarbone with sucking and biting, while he destroyed you - fucking you so well you knew you would never be able to think of anyone but him. 

He suddenly jerked away from your neck as one hand came down to rub tight circles on your clit, your walls fluttering in pleasure at the stimulation, and you thought he must be close with the way he fucked into you. Your mouth fell open in pleasure as he quickly brought you to another peak, the crown of your head hitting against the wall as your head lolled backwards, his other hand grasped your chin again to pull you up - forcing you to look at him as you came. Body trembling you spasmed against him, pussy clenching and flexing as he slid against your tight walls, it was only moments later when he was tipping over the edge as the two of you locked eyes. 

For just a second his eyes flashed to their normal brilliant blue as he cried out your name before they darkened and a sheen covered his eye once again. His hips bucked deep, filling you to the brim, as his seed shot deep into your core. The feeling sent another wave of spasms through you as he painted your walls with him, claiming you in the most primal sense. As he finished his hips stilled as his head dropped to your shoulder and you stroked the back of his head and his hair softly. 

There was a pregnant pause before Danny was pulling away from you, both eyes blue once more, and tucking himself away into his pants. You quickly found your clothing and tugged it on not wanting to risk him losing control again and you figured you only had a short period of time while he had full control to get out of the hotel. Pausing you realized your shirt was torn clean in half and was unsalvageable. Danny stared, face pink with embarrassment, he quickly shucked his coat and pulled the flannel he was wearing over his head offering it to you. Gratefully you accepted it, pulling it over your head, with your dilemma solved you turned towards Danny and tugged his arm over your shoulder once he put his jacket back on. You knew his leg would make it harder for him to walk now that there wasn't supernatural support pushing him along and you also knew your time was limited considering the boiler room situation. Glancing at Danny you couldn't help the soft smile covering your face as you simply stated, "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Your eyes blinked open blinded slightly by the bright lights shining down on you. A groan left your lips as you sat up straight, having almost slid all the way off your chair at some point during your sleep. Wearily you sat up as you remembered your surroundings, the hospital. Shooting forward your eyes shot to the bed and your face heated when you met Danny's sweet gaze.

"G'morning." He softly said, you smiled and rose to come close to his bedside, your hand resting on his lightly. Smiling you replied with a gentle, "Good morning to you too. How are you feeling?"

"Well I'm on some pain medication so it's not too bad. How is..." He trailed off, face dropping in guilt as he motioned to your neck area. Reassuringly you squeezed his hand, "It's fine, not bad at all. Honestly the ache in my...." 

Your face heated at your thoughtless words before you muttered, "My soreness elsewhere is uhm distracting me."

Danny couldn't hold back a gentle laugh at your words as a blush rose to his cheeks another beautiful smile breaking out across his face. Your spare hand rose to stroke his face fondly before you paused and pulled your hand away, unsure of where your relationship stood with him. Dan's smile dropped slightly as his head tilted, he seemed to sense the problem as he whispered, "Darling I'm yours if you'll have me, I promise as soon as I get out of here I'll take you on a date and we can go from there."

For some reason his words overwhelmed you and tears pricked at your eyes, whether from relief or happiness you couldn't quite tell. Danny's eyes grew before he cooed out your name, hand tugging you forward so he could press soft kisses to your cheek whispering pleas not to cry into your skin. You nuzzled into his cheek before cupping his face once again as you pulled back finally ready to admit what you'd known all along, "Danny I'd love nothing more than for you to be mine, I think it's pretty clear by now. I love you Dan Torrance."

[homebody-nobody]

54 and 62 Jiara

hello I got ~carried away~ who is shocked not me 

Rating: T (for language) Word Count: 1653 (oops) 

54) Why is there a pregnancy test in the trash?   62) I warned you. He warned you. Your fucking mom warned you.

Dating Daniel Ryder was a bad idea. Kiara knew that. But he was tall, blond, blue-eyed, and deeply emotionally unavailable, and Kie is, unfortunately, the kind of girl with a type. Pope had already confronted her about the similarities between Danny and a certain friend of theirs, so when she misses her period, she knows she can’t call the boys. 

After the summer of gold, Sarah became somewhat of a permanent fixture in their little crew, and, reluctantly, old grudges were forgiven, and a new, better friendship formed. Kiara wasn’t sure how to approach that relationship, at first. Being friends with girls was so much different than what she had grown up with, gotten so used to over the years. It’s a different kind of bond. All the same, she doesn’t want to go to Walgreens by herself. 

While they wait for the results, sitting on Kiara’s bathroom floor, Sarah knocks her foot against Kiara’s. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” she says, and Kiara just shrugs, too disconnected from reality to really get any thought past the swirling storm of panic that predominates her thoughts. 

Another minute passes, and the timer rings on Sarah’s phone. Kiara lunges toward the counter. 

The test is negative. 

Both girls let out a collective sigh of relief. 

“Oh thank fuck,” Kiara lets out, dropping back to the floor, her back sliding down the wall. Sarah leans over and drops her forehead against her friend’s knee, laughing, because she doesn’t really know what else to do. She wouldn’t have known what to say, if something else had happened. “I’m not telling Danny.” 

Sarah lifts her head, her chin resting on Kiara’s knee instead. “Why not?” she asks. 

Kiara shrugs again. “He’ll freak and run.” She shakes her head. “I should have listened to JJ.” He hadn’t liked Danny from the jump.

Sarah scrunches up her nose and wraps her arms around Kie’s leg. “I mean, he warned you,” she admits, and then; “I also warned you. I mean hell, your fucking mom warned you.” She laughs a little bit, and Kiara picks up the leg she’s leaning on and nudges her in the stomach with her foot. 

“You’re not helping,” she points out. 

Sarah’s head falls to the side, watching her friend’s face, studying the gears turning behind deep, intelligent brown eyes. 

“Are you gonna tell JJ?” she asks. 

Kiara lands squarely back in reality with a jerk. “Why the fuck would I do that?” she asks, and Sarah almost laughs. She knows how JJ feels about Kiara. Everyone does, except for Kiara. 

Sarah shrugs, delighting just the smallest bit in the way the machine in Kie’s head seems to be spitting smoke trying to understand what Sarah has just said. There’s no more argument, though, because the door to Kiara’s room bursts open, announcing the arrival of John B and JJ, who, of course, neglected to text about coming over to pick the both of them up. AFter everything, Kie’s parents have been infinitely kinder to all of the boys, and the Carrera house has started to feel like communal territory, equitable to the Heywards but not quite on par with the Chateau. Although, nowhere will ever feel like home to any of them quite like the Chateau does. 

Sarah scrambles up from the floor, and goes back into Kie’s room to stall. Kiara stands and sweeps the pregnancy test in the trash, washing her hands before following Sarah into the bedroom. 

“What were you both doing in the bathroom?” John B asks, plastered to Sarah’s back, his arms around her shoulders. Kiara looks, wild-eyed, to her friend, and Sarah makes up a lie about makeup. John B looks satisfied, but JJ doesn’t. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Kie asks, “I thought it was common practice to call before you start bursting into people’s houses.” 

JJ pokes her in the side with a good-natured grin, and masks his confusion poorly when she swats at his hand. “There was no bursting,” he protests, “your mom let us in.” She still doesn’t smile or laugh, and he relents, eyeing her all the same. She’s still upset and a little shaken, and Kiara has never been very good at covering up her feelings. He wants to ask her wha’ts up, but he knows that won’t yield anything, not with John B and Sarah there, too. Kiara already isn’t good at vulnerability, much less in group settings. It takes one-on-one time and usually a good deal of alcohol before she lets anything remotely private slip. 

John B saves the day. “We came to get you guys,” he explains, “There’s a killer swell at Rixon’s right now.” 

Kiara lights up, delighted by the idea of a long afternoon of surfing to get her mind off the close call and the conversation she’s goind to have to have with Danny, and ducks into her walk-in closet to change. Dimly, she hears JJ say something about needing the bathroom through the door, and her heart climbs up into her throat as she ties the halter of her bikini behind her neck, dizzy and praying to whatever might be up there that he doesn’t look in the trash. 

They aren’t listening. 

They both come back into the room at the same time, JJ drying his hands on his t-shirt (heathen), and Kiara pulling on a loose button-up to serve as a cover-up. JJ, bless him, never does know how or when to keep his mouth shut. 

“Why is there a pregnancy test in the trash?” he asks. 

Kiara freezes, and Sarah takes a deep, sharp inhale. Still holding her, John B goes ghost-white, his entire body going stiff. JJ realizes his mistake almost immediately. 

“Um --” he says, eyes darting between the two girls, and, resigned, Kiara takes the fall, to save the healthy relationship from an entirely unnecessary fight. 

“It’s mine,” she says, and John B relaxes, just slightly. JJ doesn’t. Not until she says; “false alarm.” 

The silence hangs awkward and heavy until Sarah says something about warming up the van (It’s May), and drags John B out of the room. JJ doesn’t say anything, and Kiara doesn’t know why she’s waiting for him to. He stares at the floor, and she twists the hem of her shirt around her index finger. 

When he does speak, she’s surprised at his question. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks. 

“It’s no big deal,” she reassures him, not sure she believes it, herself. “It was negative, anyway.” 

“You thought you were pregnant, Kie,” he says, his voice breaking on the word. She flinches. “That’s a pretty big fucking deal.” 

“But I’m not,” she insists, stubbornly determined not to understand why he’s so caught up in this. 

“Did you tell Danny?” he asks, and she wants nothing more than to run far, far away from this conversation. She didn’t expect JJ to care this much, and possible reasons tumblr and crash together in her exhausted, anxiety-hangover of a mind. She shakes her head, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, and his mouth turns into a thin, flat line, his hand curling into a fist and tapping lightly against the bedpost. “Why not?” he asks. 

“Why do you care so much?” she shoots back, and he winces, the words like a blow. She knows why. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “If it was me --” 

“But it’s not you,” she interrupts, shocked to feel tears forming, hard and crystalline, in the bottom of her throat. “So it doesn’t matter.” 

“And whose fault is that?” he responds immediately. The words echo like a whip cracked through the room, and finally, their eyes meet, furious and burning, full of misunderstanding and jealousy and illusions of betrayed trust. “I warned you,” he goes on, the dam finally broken, “I told you he was bad news and you dated him anyway.” 

“You’re acting like you were even an option!” she snaps, and there’s the truth of it. She dated Danny because he was almost JJ, because the one thing she really wanted, the one person she really wanted -- she thought he was out of reach. Her voice is ragged and raw when honesty finally climbs and claws its way out of her throat. “Of course, I wanted you,” she cries. “But I couldn’t have you, so don’t go trying to tell me how to live my life.”

When she looks up again, his face is so open and honest it almost hurts. Her chest heaves from the argument and the fear and all the other stress she’s carried around all day. She can’t handle this, not now, and her entire body screams at her to just run, but she can’t, not when JJ is looking at her like that. 

“Kie…” he sighs, and without words, the truth paints itself around the both of them, colors finally exploding across the blank, undefined space between them. He crosses the room in three quick steps, and he’s kissing her, holding her face, her hands curled on his chest. It’s an explosion of sorts, an ending and a beginning all at once. 

JJ speaks softly when he pulls away. “You could’ve had me,” he says, his thumb brushing away a tear that rolls down her cheek. “You can still have me.” She lifts a fist and lets it thump gently against his chest, letting out a watery laugh. 

“You never said --” she starts, but he smiles, and kisses her again. 

“I didn’t think I had to,” he explains, and she bumps her forehead against his. 

“You’re an idiot,” she says, and he laughs. 

“Your idiot,” he says. And then, softer; “if you want me.” 

She kisses him once more, and there’s still John B and Sarah downstairs, still Danny to deal with, still a thousand other things that might get in their way, but this moment -- this moment is all theirs. 

“Of course I want you.”

[kinglazrus]

No Such Thing as a Fresh Start

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @q-gorgeous: dash finds out danny is phantom. what does he do to help danny? does danny know dash knows?

Summary: Of all the people that could have found out. Out of everyone, in all of Amity Park, it has to be Dash Baxter. It has to be the one human Danny is truly afraid of.

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 8123

Danny's halfway into the locker when Dash freezes. He doesn't actually mean to stop. He got another bad grade in English class this morning and Lancer's disappointed face pissed him off so much that he needs to hit something. Stuffing Fenton into a locker is close enough. But as Dash shoves Danny's head down, as Danny flails pathetically and tries to push him off, Danny's shirt hikes up a little bit, exposing his hip.

Stretching from the waistband of Danny's jeans to up under his shirt is a patch of rough, ugly skin. It's wrinkled and bumpy, tinged red and pink. Dash doesn't know much about scars, but he knows enough to see whatever injury this was from, it couldn't have happened more than a year ago.

Dash grabs Danny's shirt and pulls it up, revealing more damaged skin.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" Danny grabs Dash's hand and shoves it off with surprising force, enough that it makes Dash stumble back. Danny teeters on the edge of the locker. Arms shooting out, he manages to catch the door and brace himself against the inside wall. It doesn't look comfortable, one arm squished against his side, one leg tucked under him while the other sticks out, head ducked to avoid smacking it against the top of the locker.

Dash barely pays it any mind, though. His eyes are glued to Danny's hip. He was able to get Danny's shirt almost halfway up before he was stopped, but he didn’t even see the edge of the scar. It must be huge.

A hundred questions run through Dash's head. When did Danny get it? How did it happen? Is it serious? It looks serious. That bothers Dash, for some reason. It nags at him.

"Okay, you're actually starting to freak me out," Danny says.

Dash raises his gaze, meeting Danny's eyes. Other people in the hall are staring at them, Dash can feel it, but he can't look away. He can't stop picturing the marred skin stretching across Danny's torso.

Danny leans back, drawing his other leg into the locker with him. "So, I'm just gonna... yeah..." he trails off. Sticking his finger in the locker door grates, he pulls it closed. The hinges squeak all the way, a grating whine that echoes down the hall.

As soon as the door shuts, Dash snaps out of his daze. He shakes his head, blinking, and glares at the students that stopped to watch. "What the hell are you looking at?" he says.

The students scurry away, heads low.

Dash lingers a moment, staring at the locker, then shakes his head again. Turning on his heels, he marches down the hall, heading to the gym rather than the cafeteria. He needs to think for a while.

—

Danny doesn't know who's locker this is, but it reeks. He's sitting on a pair of old shoes and a canvas bag, probably someone's gym clothes. It takes all he has not to gag. Climbing all the way into the locker rather than out of it wasn't his greatest idea. But he couldn't stand Dash's staring, and he figured the only way to get Dash to leave was to finish the job.

Wiggling, he shimmies around until he's turned sideways—thank god Casper High has such big lockers—and peers through the grate in the door. He knows Dash can't seem him, but the sight of him staring makes Danny shiver. He waits, holding his breath until Dash finally leaves. And then he wants a minute more, just in case.

Once he's sure the coast is clear, Danny turns intangible and tumbles out of the locker. He rolls forward, almost smacking his face on the floor, and comes up dizzy. He grabs his head until the world stops swaying.

"I can't deal with this," he says out loud. There's no one else in the hall with him, so he's talking to himself, but that's not the craziest thing he's ever done. Besides, Jazz has assured him multiple times that voicing your thoughts out loud is a common practice for lots of people. It helps them sort through their thoughts better than they could if everything just swirled around their head for hours, thoughts tripping over one another left and right, struggling to take their place at the front of your mind.

Like the mall on Black Friday morning, except the doors never open and the thoughts just keep shoving, and shoving, and shoving, trying to get to the front even though there's nowhere to go.

"Maybe I should talk to Jazz again," Danny says. He stands up and brushes his jeans off, hoping he doesn't smell too much like someone else's dirty laundry. He's just lucky it wasn't one of the rusty lockers. Those ones always make his eyes and nose itch and leave red flakes all over his clothes and hair.

Danny's about to head to the cafeteria for lunch when his chest goes cold. The feeling travels up his throat, chilling his tongue, and a puff of blue air seeps out of his mouth.

"Oh, come on." Danny groans. At least it's during lunch and not class time. If he's lucky, it'll be someone easy. Maybe then he can wrap up the fight quickly and actually have time to eat, rather than sneaking bites of his sandwich during art class.

Looking up and down the hall, he double-checks to make sure he's alone and transforms. Turning intangible, he shoots into the air. It's cloudy outside, the sky dull and grey, and drizzling steadily. If Danny remembers right, it's supposed to thunder later, which makes him sigh in disappointment. He doesn't mind thunderstorms. They can actually be kind of cool. But thunderstorms usually mean it's going to be cloudy all night, which means he won't be able to stargaze while he's out for his midnight flight.

But he shouldn't be worrying about that right now. He has to find whatever ghost set off his ghost sense. Danny swoops over the school, scanning the grounds. No one's outside today, because of the rain, and the football field is soaked. He sees nothing but growing puddles.

Looping around, he heads toward the city instead. He's gotten better at sensing ghosts, especially in a wider area, which sounds like a good thing, at first. Except that his ghost sense has never been good at actually pinpointing where the ghost is. So for Danny, a wider range means more places he has to look before he actually finds the damn thing, and he doesn't have all day.

He spends half an hour flying around, looking for the culprit, and comes up with nothing. Not even a speck of ectoplasm. It could be a friendly ghost just hanging around, but Danny doesn't feel right taking that chance. Not after what happened the last time he brushed off something strange and ghostly.

Technus turned Danny into one giant bruise that day. Let it be known that while bruises are usually a small thing, they are still a sign of internal bleeding, and a massive one that takes up half your back shouldn't be brushed off so easily. Danny found that out the hard way.

Frustrated and hungry, he circles back to Casper High and touches down on the roof, right next to the hatch that leads down into the gym.

For the longest time, Danny didn't even know there was a way onto the roof. He never actually uses it, choosing to fly up, but ever since he's found it, it's been one of his favourite spots at school. The hatch only exists for maintenance purposes and students aren't even allowed to touch the ladder that leads up to it.

Danny gives the grounds around the school another furtive glance. It doesn't feel right to give up on the ghost so soon. He knows they're close by. He can feel it. If he heads inside now, he'll just draw them into the school and endanger some of his classmates.

At least that's the excuse Danny tells himself as he lowers himself to the ground, crossing his legs. Better to wait a bit, rather than tempt fate.

Laying back, Danny folds his arms behind his head and stares up at the clouds. They aren't much to look at, but he's sure they're darker than before. A squat antenna tower cuts through the top of his view. It's a relic from a bygone era, back when Casper High had an AV club that tinkered with radios all day. It's ugly to look at, but the school never took it down.

Danny rolls onto his side so the tower is out of view, closing his eyes and letting the rain soak him. He's always more comfortable when it's cold. He might regret it later, when he changes back and finds his clothes damp, but for right now, it's nice. The warning bell hasn't gone off yet, so he has a few minutes to spare out here before he really has to go back inside.

Just as Danny's getting comfortable, his chest goes cold again, and a shadow falls over him. He opens his eyes to the smooth, gleaming skull of Walker. With a startled shout, Danny scrambles upright, scurrying toward the radio tower, and faces Walker. He raises his fists, lighting them up with ectoplasm.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. "I did all your stupid community service stuff, remember? My sentence is paid."

"Ten thousand years is a long time to shave off for a little bit of community cleanup," Walker drawls.

"Oh? That's what you call it?" Danny asks. Funny way to describe Walker siccing him on every ghostly with an overdue warrant. Danny can't remember the last time he got in so many fights in one week.

"You just can't seem to stay out of trouble, punk. Damaging another ghost's lair? That's a thousand years." Walker pulls an envelope out of his pocket and throws it at Danny. It only flutters a few feet, but Danny snatches it out of the air with his telekinesis and pulls it toward him.

Side-eyeing Walker, he tears the envelope open and pulls out the folded piece of paper inside. It's a formal police report, filed by Skulker three days ago, citing charges against Danny for property damage and endangering his afterlife.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Danny says. He floats forward and waves the report in Walker's face. "You mean all this time you've actually had a formal police system? And I could have filed criminal charges? That's so unfair."

Walker loses some of his composure, staring at Danny in bafflement. "That's what you care about?"

Danny tosses the report in the air. It stays floating by his shoulder, surrounded by a soft green glow. "Is there some kind of lair registry thing? Could I register Amity Park as my lair? You guys always tell me it is, but you keep attacking it! Doesn't that endanger my afterlife? Attack my lair too many times and I might just snap, right?"

Danny paces through the air, fretting. There are so many fights he could have avoided. Skulker is so going to get it the next time Danny sees him. This is such a cheap shot. He won't stand for it. It probably breaks so many unspoken ghost codes. They're all brothers in ghost crime, aren't they?

"Skulker's a fucking snitch," Danny says.

"Bad luck for you, punk. You've got another sentence to fill out." Walker grows bigger, looming over Danny, reaching out for him with a massive gloved hand.

"Wait!" Danny shouts, shooting out of Walker's reach. He really doesn't want to get in a fight right now. "This is all official, right? That means I can give my side, and it actually matters. It was purely self-defence!"

Walker doesn't have any lips to speak of, but his teeth clack together and his aura flares, expressing his interest. "Go on."

"It happened last week. I was heading to the medieval kingdom when Skulker came out of nowhere and attacked me. Gave me this." Danny zips down his jumpsuit and pulls it open, showing Walker his newest scar, the same one Dash saw. Skulker managed to hit Danny with a new flamethrower of his, scorching him from his chest down to his hip.

Thank the Infinite Realms for ghostly healing. Danny was only out of it for a few days rather than the months he could have been. A few sniffles to his mom, plus a concerned pout from Jazz, and he was home "sick" until he healed.

"I shot him back to defend myself. We were pretty close to his lair. A few stray shots must have hit it," Danny explains.

Walker gives Danny's scar a considering look, shrinking back down to his normal size. Taking the police report out of the air, Walker scans its contents again. After a moment, he tucks it back into the envelope, which he returns to his suit pocket.

"Don't think you're off the hook yet, punk. I'll be back," Walker says. Just like that, he's gone.

Danny sags in relief, dropping back to the ground. "I can't believe that actually worked," he says. Tipping his head back, he laughs, grinning up at the cloudy sky.

Something scuffs the ground behind him. Danny groans. "Come on, Walker, I told you it was self-defence. Don't you have to investigate that or something?"

He turns around, ready to give Walker a piece of his mind. Except it's not Walker. Across the roof stands Dash Baxter. And he's looking down at Danny's exposed chest, at the scar he saw on Fenton not even an hour earlier.

"Would you believe me if I said it's a birthmark?" Danny asks. Judging by the stricken expression on Dash's face, that's a no.

—

As soon as Dash enters the gym, he heads up the bleachers, toward the back wall. There's a ladder in the far corner of the gym that leads up onto the roof. Kwan once dared him to sneak up there during their free period. It's been Dash's favourite place at school ever since. Besides the football field, that is, but that's currently flooded. He doesn't want to get soaked up to his ankles in muddy water.

Dash climbs the ladder with ease, stopping once his head brushes the hatch. He bends over, going up one more rung, and jerks upward, slamming his shoulder against the hatch. The day Kwan gave him the dare, Dash discovered there wasn't actually a proper lock keeping the hatch shut. All it has is a simple latch on the other side. To get it open, you need a special tool to stick into the seam between the hatch and the frame, and you have to jimmy it around a little bit to get it open.

Or, you can do what Dash does, and bash into the hatch over and over again until the latch jiggles open on its own. It makes his shoulder sore, but it's easier than sneaking down into the boiler room and finding the stupid stick.

Dash squeezes through the hatch, closing it gently behind him so it doesn't make too much noise, and starts across the roof. His destination is a vent sticking out of the room, held up by metal supports. It curls out of the ground like a worm, bent in an S shape. The end extends out, pointing toward the edge of the roof. It's just high enough for Dash to sit comfortably beneath it and wide enough that it provides some cover from the drizzle.

Dash settles there, stretching his legs out, and leans back against the vent. He might have to check his jacket for grime later, probably give his hair a quick wash in the bathroom, but this is alright for now. It's a great place to think. Nobody ever comes here, so there's no one to interrupt him.

His hand falls to his chest. He presses against his ribs, trailing his fingers down, tracing the path of Danny's scar. He tries to imagine what it feels like. It would be rough, he thinks. And maybe a little dry. It would feel foreign against his fingertips.

It must be from Danny's accident. No one but his friends and family knows the full story, at least as far as Dash is aware. They know Danny was there the first week of school freshman year. He didn't make much of a lasting impression, and almost nobody knew his name except those he'd gone to middle school with. Then, over the weekend, something happened. One kid who was passing on the street said he saw flashing lights and heard Danny scream.

He was gone for two weeks, the peculiarity of his absence and the mystery of his accident spreading his name to the furthest corners of Casper High. The rumours cycled through the school five times over, getting a little more bizarre each time. He spilled some dangerous chemicals, he messed with his parent's weapons, his parents shot him on accident, his friends shot him on purpose.

By the time Danny returned to school, everyone was waiting with bated breath to find out the truth. Danny refused to tell. Neither Sam nor Tucker gave even a hint of what had happened that weekend. Jazz said she didn't even know the full story herself.

Everybody lost interest after that. Danny was back, he was fine, and he wasn't telling the story. Collectively, the school decided to move on. No one thought about who the accident might have affected Danny, physically or mentally. Dash is thinking about it now.

His older sister, a nurse, has told him a few things about what big scars like that do to a person, even years after they've healed. They can be painful and stiff, impeding movement. Sensitive to touch. Easy to hurt. He thinks about how many times he's given Danny a good punch to the stomach over the last few months.

Guilt swirls in his gut, for a moment. It's quickly replaced by anger. Dash scowled, punching his fist against the rooftop. It's so stupid. So what if Fenton got hurt over a year ago? He's obviously fine now. Dash has nothing to feel sorry for. Everything Danny gets is his own fault, anyway. He's the only one who ever fights back.

Danny doesn't seem to get it that Dash would let him go if he just stayed down for once. One good wailing to set him straight, to make sure he knows not to mess with Dash, and then they can dust their hands of each other and be done with it. But Danny's one of those people that keep getting back up no matter how many times he gets beaten down.

Can't he see he's only making things worse for himself? Can't he see that if he just stops and does what Dash wants, he won't get hurt anymore? Everyone sees it.

It pisses Dash off. If Danny's going to keep doing infuriating things like defending himself, then he deserves it. He can't just go around pissing people off and expect them not to do something about it, that's ridiculous. It's not Dash's fault. It's not.

Dash curls his hand into a fist, clenching it tightly. Bringing it up to his face, he rubs his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. He doesn't want to think about stuff like this. All he does is go round and round without making any progress.

Resting an arm on his knee, he lowers his forehead to his elbow and stares at his hand. When he curls his fingers, his skin pulls taut across his knuckles. They're still red from when he socked Danny in the jaw a couple days ago. Sticking his hand out, he holds it under the rain. The minuscule drops barely dampen his skin, but it's cold and refreshing. He rubs his thumb across his knuckles, as if that can wipe away the bruises.

When it doesn't work, he lets his hand drop and resigns himself to sombre silence. It's a good day for silence. Fewer people are out because of the rain, even though it's the middle of the day. The drops, more like a fine mist than actual rain, make no sound.

Something whooshes overhead, drawing Dash's gaze toward the sky. Noise from above typically means an impending ghost attack, but he only sees Phantom. The resident ghost hero is a bright spot against the dull sky. He hovers for a moment, a white sun, then flies in Dash's direction.

Dash opens his mouth, about to call out, but stops at the last second. Phantom looks tense, mouth set in a grim line. Dash doesn't want to interrupt whatever he's doing. He tips his head back, watching Phantom fly over the school, fully expecting the ghost to pass them by.

To Dash's surprise, Phantom touches down on the other side of the roof. Dash scrambles to his feet, searching for the threat he should be running from, but it's just him and Phantom out here. When Phantom lays down, Dash hesitates, dumbfounded.

Creeping forward, staying flush against the vent, Dash grips the supports holding it up. The metal bites into his fingers and sucks the heat from his palms, but he holds it like a lifeline. Phantom's whole deal is beating people until they stay down. Maybe Dash can talk to him about it. Sliding his feet forward, Dash takes a step out from his cover, ready to talk to his hero.

The ground behind Phantom ripples, a tall white figure rising up out of the room. Dash scrambles back out of view, peeking around the vent to see.

He's never seen this ghost before. They're dressed completely in white, barring a black fedora, and have a skull for a head. Dash's first thought is that this is one of Phantom's allies. Those hopes are dashed away when Phantom sees the ghost and leaps away, immediately poising to attack.

It looks like Dash is getting a front-row seat to a ghost fight. Which is all kinds of cool, but also dangerous.

The only way off the roof is the hatch, which sits between Phantom and his opponent. There used to be a ladder crawling up the back wall, but it got damaged during a ghost attack a couple months ago and hasn't been fixed. With no escape route, Dash is forced to hunker down and watch.

It doesn't go how he thought it would. Phantom and the other ghost's—Walker's—voices carry easily across the roof. Dash hears everything they say, although none of it makes sense to him. Who knew dead people had a formal police network and criminal system? Who knew Phantom was a criminal?

Actually, that idea isn't so far-fetched. The more Dash thinks about it, the more sense it makes. Phantom doesn't act like other ghosts. He probably breaks a whole bunch of laws. The ghosts that attack the city are probably bounty hunters! That weird metal ghost is always shouting about capturing and hunting Phantom. Dash is willing to bet his football career on there being a bounty on Phantom's head.

He can't wait to tell Kwan all about this new, fascinating revelation.

Dash watches, rapt, absorbing every word. Paulina's going to be so jealous when she hears Dash got so close to Phantom. Especially with the few harmless embellishments he's going to add. She will be livid to know Dash spent the whole lunch hour hanging out with Phantom on the roof.

"It was purely self-defence!" Phantom shouts.

Dash frowns. There goes his criminal theory. This Walker guy reminds him a little of Tetslaff. Strict, no-nonsense, all about authority. Which means if you do something wrong, you don't get to defend yourself, you take your punishment and do better next time.

Walker also has that stern, "I want to execute you," look. Although that might just be the skull for a head.

Walker doesn't hang around for much longer after that. Phantom shows him an injury as evidence of his innocence, Walker threatens Phantom one last time, and pretty soon Dash and Phantom are alone again.

Seeing his chance, Dash moves out of hiding. As he steps forward, his belt loop catches on an exposed screw on the vent supports. Dash's feet nearly slip out from under him. He throws out his arms, quickly regaining his balance, and looks back to Phantom, hoping he hasn't scared the hero off.

Phantom turns, an exasperated expression on his face, and glares in Dash's direction. The glare slips away almost instantly. Phantom pales, his eyes going wide. Dash doesn't pay attention to any of that. All his focus is on Phantom's chest and the familiar scar that cuts across it.

—

Danny and Dash stare at each other for a long, long moment. Distantly, they can hear the warning bell ring, marking the end of the lunch hour, but neither of them reacts. Danny watches Dash warily, afraid of how he's going to react. Dash looks back with increasing dread, afraid of what he believes is true.

"Fenton?" Dash asks.

Danny stiffens. "Fenton?" He laughs weakly. "You mean that loser kid in your year? Is he here? I don't see him."

Danny makes a show of looking around the roof, pulling his jumpsuit zipper back up as he does. His gaze flicks down to the front of the school, the warning bell finally registering in his ears. Lifting into the air, Danny backs away.

"Sounds like you need to get back to class, citizen," he declares in a deep voice.

"Fenton, wait!" Dash says. He lurches forward a few steps, reaching out, then pulls back. Danny doesn't move. They're at a standstill. Neither of them really wants to be there, but neither of them wants to leave, either. They can't leave.

Danny needs to know Dash won't spread his secret. And if he will, then Danny needs to be prepared. As much as he wants to flee and pretend this never happened, he can't let Dash out of his sight until he knows what's going to happen next. Danny's mind is in overdrive trying to come up with every possible scenario.

Before Danny can stop him, Dash lunges for the rooftop hatch. Defying all logic, he makes it back to the cafeteria first. Dash clambers up on a table, drawing everyone's attention and shouts for all to hear, "Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom!" It doesn't take long for word to get back to the G.I.W. Wasting no time, they rush over to Casper High and detain Danny for being a class five ecto-entity in breach of the American Ecto Act and take him away. They experiment on him for the rest of his life.

Or, Dash recognizes Danny for the freak he is. His fear quickly turns to anger, and he lunges. Dash may be human, but Danny can only do so much to stop him without actively hurting him. Dash beats him to a pulp, calls the G.I.W., and leaves Danny on the steps of Casper High for them to find. They take Danny away for being an inhuman abomination and experiment on him for the rest of his life.

Or, Dash laughs it off. He claps Danny on the shoulder and agrees that Fenton is such a loser. They part ways amicably, an unspoken agreement to never speak of this again. Until Dash spills the secret to Kwan, who tells Star, who tells Paulina, who tells everyone. Eventually, word gets back to the G.I.W. They lock Danny up in evil ghost jail. And experiment on him for the rest of his life.

Logically, not every possible outcome ends with Danny being taken prisoner by the G.I.W., becoming an unwilling participant in their sick experiments. But human brains really suck at being logical when you're two seconds from panicking.

Dash's mind, on the other hand, is completely blank. Rather than running a mile a minute, his thoughts have come to a screeching halt. They laugh at him from afar, dangling just out of reach, and leave him to flounder in silently. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to move. Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom and he isn't prepared to handle that information. Fenton can't be Phantom. Fenton is infuriating. Fenton is a flea, a temporary nuisance in the grand scene of Dash's life. Fenton is a weak nobody who's only good at getting under Dash's skin.

Phantom, on the other hand, is Dash's idol. He's everything Fenton isn't and then some. Dash stares at Phantom right now and feels lost

Their staring contest drags on with no clear winner in sight. Thunder rumbles in the distance. The sky is a little darker now, and it won't be long before the clouds open up and drown Amity in a torrent of rainfall. It won't matter much for the two boys on the roof, though. They've been out here too long, standing silence, and are already soaked. It makes no difference to them as the rain grows from a drizzle, to a light shower, to a downpour in a matter of minutes.

Lightning flashes, followed a few seconds later by a great crash of thunder. Dash flinches, startled by the sound, and breaks eye contact first.

"Fenton," Dash says, advancing.

"Don't."

"Come on, I just–"

"I said leave it."

"Why are you being so–"

"Dash!" Danny bellows. His voice cracks like thunder, a trace of his ghostly wail rattling the rooftop, and is lost in the storm. Eyes flaring, he flies forward. Halfway to Dash, he jerks to a stop. He doesn't know what he will do once Dash is right in front of him. There's a burning feeling building in his chest that tells him it whatever it is, it won't be good.

Crying out in frustration, Danny turns away. He drops to the roof, curling over, and presses his hands against his ears so he can't hear Dash calling out to him. Of all the people that could have found out. Out of everyone, in all of Amity Park, it has to be Dash Baxter. It has to be the one human Danny is truly afraid of.

Dash Baxter is nothing like the G.I.W. They're a faceless mass of interchangeable bodies hiding behind the same suits and sunglasses. The G.I.W., as a whole, are threatening. Dash, to Danny, is downright terrifying on his own.

Danny aches just thinking about him. As a halfa, his body heals fast, but his mind was never granted such luxuries. If you keep hitting someone in the same place over and over, one day the bruise will sink so much deeper than skin. Danny is more bruise than boy, at this point. Pressing his head against his knees, he drags his hands through his hair, trying to stay calm.

Lightning flashes in the corner of his eyes. Rolling thunder booms through the air a second later. In the silence that follows, filled only by the staccato beat of the rain, he hears Dash's approaching footsteps.

"Go away, Dash," Danny croaks. He doesn't even care anymore. Let Dash do whatever he wants, tell the whole world who he is.

Dash stops a couple feet behind Danny. He looks down at his hero, huddled on the roof, and a strange feeling fills him. He refuses to regret anything he's ever done to Fenton, but... he wants to help. Because that's what Phantom does.

"No," Dash says.

Danny raises his head, hands dropping, and sneers over his shoulder. "No?"

Dash lifts his chin and nods, refusing to budge. "No."

Danny rakes his gaze over Dash, looking him up and down, and scoffs.

"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about," Dash continues.

Danny laughs, cold and derisive. "That's what you think this is about? I can't believe this."

Dash crosses his arms, hiding his confusion behind his scowl. "You're not worried about that?"

"I was," Danny amends. "For about two seconds. Look, Dash, I don't want to... I don't know. I just don't want to."

"That's kind of stupid, Fenton. I could always just beat it out of you."

"You don't even know what it is!" Danny stands up and spins to face Dash. He reaches out, hands curled together, and throttles the open air. "Just leave me alone!"

"No." Dash takes a step forward, pushing Danny's hands down.

"Stop saying that!"

Dash steps forward again, peering down at Danny. They're practically nose to nose. "No," he hisses.

"I swear to god, the Infinite Realms, and the fucking Box Ghost, if you don't back. Off–"

Danny's hair stands on end, static shocks jump through it. Faster than Dash can react, Danny lunges forward, tackling him onto the roof hatch. An eardrum-shattering bang bursts through the air as lightning strikes the old radio tower. The excess electricity, searching for the nearest conductor, shoots toward the metal hatch currently acting as Dash's backrest.

Dash has a second to panic before the world goes cold around him. He drops through the roof into the gym, back slamming against the top row of bleachers, and rolls off the step.

Danny falls through the ceiling a second later, and the electricity comes with him. It stretches between Danny's back and the metal hatch, crackling and sizzling. Danny screams, curling in, aura turning blue. A burst of cold air pushes outward and suddenly everything around Danny is coated in ice. The electricity surges across the ice, springing into a fuse box on the wall behind Danny.

Every light in the gym bursts, sparks raining down, plunging the vast, empty room into darkness. Dash pulls himself up, rising onto trembling legs, and looks around. A few final sparks fall from the ceiling, fizzling out before they reach the floor. He can't see a single shred of light, not even under the doors on the other side of the gym.

The whole school is blacked out.

"Fenton," Dash whispers. He turns, too fast, and trips on the bench behind him. Careening forward,  his arms windmill as he tries to catch himself. He hits something cold, smacking his chin against it, and narrowly misses biting his tongue in half.

Dash groans, rubbing his jaw, and carefully pulls himself up. His hands and knees slip on the ice. Now that his eyes are adjusting, he can see it gives off a slight light. Not enough to truly see by, but enough that he can find Danny's silhouette, slumped and human, at the ice's epicentre. He crawls forward and reaches out. A small static jump jumps from Danny's hair to Dash, making him flinch back.

Rubbing his finger, Dash shifts so that he's sitting. Carefully, he reaches out and taps Danny's head with his foot.

"Yo, Fenton," Dash whispers. It feels criminal to break the silence. "You dead? More dead?"

Danny mumbles something. His shoulders shift. His arm wiggles out from under him and grabs Dash's foot, shoving it away. He raises his head and glares at Dash, not that Dash can actually see it in this light.

"'M fine," Danny mutters.

Dash scoots back, giving Danny space, and strains his eyes, trying to see what Danny is doing. But it's too dark, so he gives up and settles against the wall.

Danny, coming to the same realization as Dash, pushes himself up with slow, painstaking movements. He huffs, thumps his back against the wall, and gets comfortable.

"You just got struck by lightning," Dash says.

"I got struck by indirect lightning," Danny corrects. His voice rough and his throat burns when he swallows. There's no blood on his tongue, though, so that's a bonus.

"And you're fine?"

"It shorts out my powers for a little bit, but it doesn't hurt much."

"You're lying."

"You don't know that!"

"Your voice does this wobbly thing when you lie. You're such a bad liar, Fenton."

Danny grumbles under his breath. "Why were you even on the roof in the first place?"

"It doesn't matter," Dash snaps defensively.

"Whatever."

They fall silent again. The school is supposed to have emergency lights for this kind of situation, but they don't appear to be working. Dash hopes the come on soon. He doesn't want to be stuck in here with Fenton. If he were really determined, he could try and feel his way down the bleachers, but he doesn't want to risk a fall.

Danny, caught on a similar vein of thinking, doesn't move either.

The silence is suffocating. It stretches between them, a vast chasm filled to the brim with repressed aggression. Dash can only take it for so long.

"How do you do it?" he blurts the question out after only a minute of silence.

"What?"

"The ghosts. They keep coming back, no matter how much you beat them down. How do you do it?"

Danny considers the question. Despite how stupid Dash is, he's not totally an idiot, and Danny can tell there's some hidden meaning in what he's asking. Danny's answer should be obvious. He does it because he needs to. Somebody has to keep Amity Park safe. Considering this whole mess is technically Danny's fault in the first place, he feels a little responsible for it and takes it into his own hands.

The wording throws Danny off. He doesn't beat his enemies down, he stops them. Dash makes it sound brutal, like a schoolyard fistfight.

"Dash." Danny's voice is strained. "Do you think you're like me? Phantom me, I mean."

He gets no answer.

"I swear, if you just nodded or something, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

"Why do you care?" Dash sounds defensive again.

Danny breathes in through his nose, a calming action, and exhales. "Do you think you're some kind of hero or something for beating people up?"

"You're the one who's always begging for it."

"I don't–" Danny shakes his head. He takes another deep breath. "You're serious? One hundred percent?"

Dash's silence is all the answer Danny needs.

"Oh my– wow. Dash. Just, wow. You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"Hey, you don't get to say that. You don't know a damn thing about me!"

"I know you get your kicks out of beating the hell out of me. Because that's so damn heroic of you, isn't it? You are not a hero, okay? You're the worst."

"Screw you, Fenton! You don't get to talk shit about me like that. You're the one who's always getting in my way. Maybe if you just shut your mouth next time, I wouldn't have to shut it for you!"

"You know what, Dash? No. Fuck you!" Danny reaches into the darkness, searching, and latches on to the first piece of Dash he finds. He yanks Dash forward. "You know what the worst part about going to this school is? It's you. I'm afraid to come to school because I know you'll be here, waiting for me, ready to knock another took out. And I fight ghosts. Every day. I beat the ghost king. I've bent freaking reality. I've been electrocuted, shot, turned to goo, and you are still the worst thing that's ever happened to me! You're the villain, Dash!"

Dash grabs Danny's wrists. Rising to his feet, he drags them both upright. "You've got a big mouth for someone who's such a wuss."

The emergency lights finally snap on. They both wince, the sudden light blinding them, but Danny recovers faster. He swings his fist and punches Dash square in the face, breaking his nose. Dash's head snaps back with a spurt of blood. He stumbles back, feet sleeping on the ice, and clutches his face.

"What the hell!" he shouts, staring at the blood on his hand.

"Can't take a punch, Dash?" Danny sneers. He only has a second to prepare himself before Dash lunges. Confidence abandoning him, a primal fear rising up instead, Danny turns and sprints.

"I'm gonna kill you, Fenton!"

Danny believes him. On instinct, he leaps into the air, the fastest route of escape, and remembers too late that he can't fly right now. "Shit!" he shouts, flailing as he falls over the bleachers, the ground rapidly approaching. Panic shoots through him. He's going to land wrong and break his leg and then he won't be able to run, and catch will catch him, and he's definitely going to kill Danny this time.

The thought swells up in his head, suffocating any logical notions.

"Fenton!" Dash's voice, squeaky and panicked, rings out through the gym. It snaps Danny out of his spiralling thoughts long enough to remember he's a superhero, damn it, he knows how to talk a fall.

Just before he hits the bleachers, Danny kicks out, pushing himself off one of the benches. It jolts his leg and sends painful shivers radiating up the limb, but does the job well. He starts falling forward instead, rather than right down, barely missing the rest of the stairs. Leaning into the fall, he hits the ground shoulder first and rolls, letting the momentum bleed out. It's not his best recovery, and his shoulder and leg throb painfully, but nothing's broken.

Danny lays splayed out in the middle of the gym floor, panting. Distantly, he hears Dash's thundering steps as he books it down the stairs. He should get up and run while he can. But Danny's shaking all over and he thinks, if he were to stand up right now, he would just fall over. His body still aches from the brief electrocution.

"Fenton!" Dash says, his head popping into view above Danny. He looks conflicted, face red and angry, but honest worry in his eyes, like he can't decide if he should be glad Danny didn't become a pile of broken limbs on the bleacher, or if he should go ahead and break Danny himself.

And he can't decide. Dash is livid. Danny broke his damn nose! Dash wants to throttle him for that. But when he saw Danny falling over the stairs, one thought screamed in his head: he didn't want to watch Fenton die. For a moment, it overrode his anger with genuine concern. Now that he knows Danny is okay, though, that anger is quickly taking over again.

Danny, seeing Dash's shaking fists, thinks he knows an inkling of what's going through Dash's head right now. He pushes himself back, just in case Dash decides to stop on him. He's still too shaky to stand up right now.

Dash clenches his fists, then releases them, eyes closing. "What the hell is your problem, Fenton?" His voice is hollow.

Danny doesn't even dare to breathe.

Dash grits his teeth. "Fine, whatever, I don't care. I'm going to the nurse." He turns and heads for the doors.

Danny holds his breath until Dash leaves.

—

Tetslaff finds Danny in the gym. "Fenton?" she says, frowning in confusion. "What are you doing here? The students were all sent home."

Danny blinks at her slowly. "What?"

"You gonna learn in the dark?" Tetslaff holds the door open wider and jerks her thumb toward the hall. "Get out of here. No wonder Lancer was getting his panties in a twist, had no idea where you were."

"Oh. Sorry." Danny pushes himself up, wobbling a little, and shuffles toward Tetslaff. "No one was looking for me?"

"Your friends said you went home. Stomach bug." Tetslaff's eyes narrow. "Your sister vouched for you."

Danny freezes, hugging himself tightly. "Really? That's weird." He gives Tetslaff a shaky smile.

"You look like hell, Fenton. Go home. I won't give you detention, this time."

"Thanks," Danny mumbles. Once he's out of the gym, the urge to get out of there as fast as possible seizes him. He sprints down the hall, ignoring Tetslaff's half-hearted shout of, "No running!" and doesn't stop until he reaches the front doors, throwing them open.

Lightning flashes over the city, blinding him. He winces, ducking his head, raising an arm against the rain. He almost forgot about the thunderstorm. Glancing left, he scans the student parking lot.  All he sees is an obnoxious yellow Humvee, no sign of Jazz's little Prius. She must have gone home with everyone else, thinking Danny was already long gone taking care of a ghost. He wishes he had been.

With no other option, Danny starts the walk home. The rain drenches him immediately, plastering his hair against his forehead. His shirt clings to his chest and jeans feel heavy and uncomfortable. Halfway down the block, he realizes he left his backpack at school. There's a history paper he needs to work on. Danny shakes his head and keeps walking. He can sneak back in later tonight when his powers are working again. His sleep schedule this week is already pretty much non-existent. What does one more all-night matter?

At the corner of the block, as Danny's waiting for the crosswalk light to come on, a vehicle pulls up on his left and honks. It's the Humvee from the school parking lot. Confused, Danny stares, unmoving. The window rolls down.

Dash glares at him from the driver's seat. "Are you getting in or not?" he asks.

"I– what?"

"I swear you're deaf sometimes. Are. You. Getting. In. Or would you rather walk home in this?" Dash drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "Hurry up, the rain's getting in!"

Danny scrambles forward, throwing the door open and slipping inside. The seat's a little wet, but it's infinitely better than being outside. Almost, Danny thinks, side-eyeing Dash. Neither of them says anything as he pulls up to the lights, which are red now.

Danny pushes his hair out of his face, slicking it back. The style's not half-bad. At least, he likes how it looks in Dash's side mirror. The light ahead of them turns green.

"Seatbelt," Dash says.

"Oh, yeah." Danny hurries to pull it on, clicking it in place. It rests a bit too high against his neck, rubbing uncomfortably below his jaw. "Dash–" he starts.

"Look–" Dash says at the same time. They both cut themselves off, sharing a glance. Danny motions for Dash to continues. "Look. I don't like you, Fenton. I guess I got issues and stuff, whatever, that's none of your business. But you're also a hero, and it'd be pretty stupid of me to beat up a hero."

"It's stupid of you to beat up anyone."

"Can you just, ugh." Dash groans. "I'm trying to apologize to you, moron."

"Well, you suck at it."

Dash seethes, banging his head against the steering wheel.

"Hey, watch the road!" Danny yelps, reaching out to grab the wheel.

Dash slaps his hand away. "Shut up, I know how to drive. Just, I'm sorry, okay?"

Danny frowns. A half-hearted apology doesn't make anything okay. But, at the moment, it's more than anything he's ever expected from Dash, so he'll take it. For now. "Fine."

"Good."

They don't say anything for the rest of the ride, suffering each other's presence until Dash pulls up in front of Fenton Works. Danny has the door open before the car reaches a complete stop, practically throwing himself to the sidewalk. He runs up the front path and slips inside without looking back.

"Danny!" Jazz calls from the living room. She stands up, approaching. "You're soaking wet. Where were you? What happened?"

Danny throws himself into Jazz's arms and cries.

—

Dash sits on the Fenton's curb for a minute before driving off. His house is in the completely opposite direction and now he has to head back toward the school. After going to the nurse, who had thankfully still been in the building, and getting his nose fixed up, Dash's only desire was to head home and immerse himself in video games.

Picking Danny up was a total fluke. He just looked so pathetic, trudging through the rain, and Dash couldn't leave him like that. The apology had been unexpected. Dash didn't realize he meant it until the words left his lips. He's still pissed at Danny for breaking his nose, but he didn't hit back, so that was a step up.

Dash sinks into his seat, staring at how the city lights glitter in the rain. Fenton still sucks. In fact, he sucks even worse now for actually making Dash feel bad about all the bullying. He's got a lot of thinking to do. Nothing he says or does will always what he's already said and done, but apologizing was a good way to start.

[ladylynse]

The Trouble with Ghosts: Lancer hadn’t realized how closely young Mr. Fenton’s school troubles–and the secrets he surely wasn’t telling his parents–were tied to ghosts until after that encounter with Phantom.

<<  < Part XII [FF | AO3]

-|-

Lancer wasn’t entirely surprised to see that he was missing one of the shrubs on his front lawn. The Shakespeare lawn ornament wouldn’t be salvageable, either; the poor fellow was bent up enough to have written Richard Armour’s Twisted Tales from Shakespeare himself.

Still, he stepped aside to allow Mr. and Mrs. Fenton into his house without a word.

“You said Danny’s safe,” Maddie was saying. “Where is he? What happened? Did he tell you?”

“Did you just find him after he got away from that no-good ghost?” Jack put in. “Did—”

“Danny’s doing remarkably well, considering the circumstances,” Lancer said. “Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, might I have a word before you go to visit your son?”

A trace of a frown crossed Maddie’s face. “You mean before we pick him up to take him home.”

“I sincerely hope that to be the case.” He gestured toward his living room, where he’d set out another chair and cleared up most of his books, banishing everything that didn’t fit on the bookshelves out here to his bedroom. He planned to find more permanent homes for them all once these more pressing issues had been addressed—which is to say, he planned to buy and assemble at least one new bookshelf, once he found one that would fit within his remaining wall space. It would be a rather cathartic exercise after all of this. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

“If this is about Danny skipping his detention again,” Maddie said slowly as they all settled into their seats, “I’m sure you’d agree that being caught in a ghost attack is a reasonable excuse for his absence, at least in this instance?”

“That ghost scum is determined to attack our family,” Jack added, not bothering to clarify which particular ghost he meant. Lancer dearly hoped he didn’t blame Phantom for all of this.

“On the contrary, Mrs. Fenton, it has come to my attention that your son has a very honourable excuse for all the detentions and classes he has missed.”

“Oh?”

“I’m afraid it’s his right to give you the details, and he’s agreed to do just that.” Under pressure, admittedly, but Lancer couldn’t see how they could do this without the cooperation of the Fentons. Besides that, it wasn’t right for Danny to keep this secret from them when it endangered his life. Were he a parent, he would rather make amends than continue to target his own child. The very idea of allowing this to continue as it had…. It was appalling.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Your son has, shall we say, done a considerable amount of community service. While I cannot merely forgive every failing grade, I do believe that I can ensure that he receives partial credit for his work. I will also speak to my colleagues and see that they are more understanding of his absences, tardiness, and—if you’ll allow me to be quite frank—his inability to remain awake during class. With special allowances, Danny will be able to write makeup tests for those he misses and submit additional assignments for extra credit when need be.”

Maddie’s eyebrows rose, but Jack beat her to the question, saying, “You’d do all that for Danny-boy?”

Lancer spread his hands. “Really, it is the least I can do. I cannot speak for my colleagues, and I’m not sure how much he’ll allow me to share with them, but I do have considerable influence. We all know your son isn’t stupid; we merely had no idea what the problem truly was.”

“And his problem, so to speak, was community service?” There was a touch of hesitation in Maddie’s voice. The barest hint of incredulity. She knew that wasn’t strictly correct, but she couldn’t imagine the truth.

Frankly, Lancer couldn’t blame her. He’d have never dreamed it, either.

“Let’s just call it some rather unconventional extracurricular activities for now, shall we?”

“He was doing that—whatever that is—when the ghost found him,” Jack guessed. “So it’s made him a target of ghosts? And he can’t even carry around an ectogun in school? Are you going to talk to the board? Try to get them to make an exception for those who can prove they know how to use them? They shouldn’t cause more than a mild burn to human skin—”

“The no weapons policy will still include ectoguns,” interrupted Lancer. “At best, I can draft a proposal for your Fenton Thermos—a purely defensive weapon which cannot be used, accidentally or intentionally, against other humans in any way other than a conventional thermos might—but you would have to be prepared to draw up a distribution plan for those thermoses, as well as designated days they can be emptied or traded for empty thermoses. And I’m rather afraid the testing period would be quite extensive; we have no idea how someone might try to modify your thermos to achieve more nefarious effects, and we cannot hand any of our students, however much training they’ve had, a weapon that could be turned on others. Of course, the propriety of your design—”

“Perhaps,” interjected Maddie, “you could keep your proposal to just Danny and Jazz, given their experience and likelihood of being targeted?”

“There would still be no guarantee. Lockers are hardly impenetrable.”

“But they would be more likely to allow it, considering what happened to Danny.” Jack crossed his arms. “Extra activities or not, he was still on school property. At least try.”

Lancer ducked his head, acknowledging their points. “It is certainly something to consider amending—”

“I’ll draft the proposal and submit it to the school board,” Maddie said, “if you’re so reluctant to be associated with it. This is for my children’s protection. Even if it’s first dismissed, I want it discussed.”

She might not be quite so adamant when she realized how those very thermoses could become a detriment to her son, were someone to capture Phantom. True, Lancer didn’t think there were many sympathizers with the various ghost hunting groups that came through town, but Phantom had a lot of fans, and that wasn’t always a good thing.

Still, that was something that could be addressed in the future, and given what he’d learned from Danny, there was something else he wanted to address now. “Speaking of your children’s protection,” he began slowly, not sure if this was his place but not willing to let it go unspoken, “have you made any, ah, more recent safety amendments to your home laboratory?”

Jack and Maddie exchanged guilty looks, and Lancer had his answer before Maddie said, “The kids have their own HAZMAT suits, and they know basic lab safety and first aid.”

“Teenagers often believe themselves to be invincible,” Lancer said dryly, “and cannot always be trusted not to touch what they shouldn’t, even if they know better. Besides which, the safety of your own weapons and prototypes—”

“Danny told you how many of our weapons mistakenly target him?” Jack interrupted. “I’m working it out. I keep trying things. I’m going through them one by one. I’ve eliminated so many—”

“Please,” Lancer cut in, and Jack mercifully fell silent. He’d worried the man would bowl over his words in an attempt to justify what Lancer was beginning to think was a negligence so ingrained it felt normal. “I’ve seen a variety of your weapons. I own a few of your defensive ones. I can only guess how much you have stored in your basement and how dangerous even a handful of those weapons might be. I know it cannot be easy nor lucrative to be inventors, to run your own company, but you need to look into locating your lab somewhere else. It’s not just your safety or that of your children, though I hope that would be reason enough; were something to go catastrophically wrong, you might endanger your neighbourhood. Surely your desire to protect them in the future won’t drive you to continue to compromise their safety now?”

Jack raised a hesitant hand. “Did Danny tell you about changing the ecto-filter on the Fenton Ghost Portal? Because I, ah, might have exaggerated the consequences to get him to do it. More than once.”

Judging by the look on Maddie’s face as Jack said this, Lancer doubted she thought Jack had been exaggerating terribly, and that just made it worse. They were aware of what could go wrong and hadn’t sought to even look at potential properties to continue their research? Money was a factor, it had to be, more so than convenience, and pride might have kept them from asking Vlad, but considering the quality and quantity of weapons they produced, they were making something.

Perhaps, if they reinvested in infrastructure instead of buying new supplies to craft different weapons….

But perhaps that wasn’t what was holding them back at all.

Perhaps it was the ghost portal in their basement.

And the accident that could very well involve it, if Vlad’s had involved its prototype.

It made a cruel bit of sense. If Danny’s accident was indeed tied to the ghost portal, his parents did not know the details. And that meant that they couldn’t know everything that Danny had done with the portal, how he had tweaked their settings or whatever had gone on, and that meant they weren’t sure if they could replicate their results.

And they were afraid that they couldn’t.

Even if they didn’t know the truth, even if they didn’t suspect the truth, they knew there was something they didn’t know, and that had kept them from trying to separate their work and home lives even once safety had become an issue.

“Danny has left me to draw far too many of my own conclusions,” Lancer said slowly, “but he’s told me enough to give me cause for concern.”

Maddie straightened in her seat, recognizing something in his words before her husband. Not the right thing, perhaps, but enough of it. “Surely you don’t think we don’t care for Danny and Jazz?”

“I think you care a great deal indeed,” Lancer said, “but I fear that when it comes to your chosen occupation, you can both be rather…overzealous. To the point of preoccupation.”

“You really believe we care more for our work than for them?” Maddie’s voice was quiet. Cold. Lancer had never heard her angry before. A glance at Jack revealed hurt in his eyes at the thinly veiled accusation, but he held his tongue.

“I think your beliefs about ghosts can be a rather complicating point in your relationship with your children,” Lancer said carefully.

“We care about our kids,” Jack growled, “and we care enough to stop ghosts from doing anything else like this. The Fenton Spectre Deflector—”

“Mr. Fenton, I suspect both your children are more than capable of handling themselves in a ghost fight.” If Jazz knew the truth about Danny, she would have been helping him whenever Sam and Tucker could not—most likely, whether or not he thought he needed that help. She would be involved in more than a few isolated incidents, and she clearly knew the full truth about Vlad. “I do, however, wonder if you’ve ever taken the time to listen to them speak about the subject, or if you’ve simply contented yourselves with lecturing to them.”

“Of course we listen to them.” Maddie got to her feet, and Jack jumped to his as well. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lancer, but if that’s all you have to say, I’m afraid it can wait until after we’ve taken Danny home. If you would like to have a candid discussion about how Danny’s doing in school or at home, we can set up a conference once we know Danny is safe.”

Lancer didn’t rise from his chair. “I can assure you that is my intention.”

She smiled at him, but though her anger no longer showed in her voice, it came through in the lack of warmth in her expression. “Excellent. We’ll speak with you early next week to arrange a time.”

They didn’t want to listen to him right now.

He hoped that was merely out of concern for Danny and the fact that this conversation was keeping them from their son.

He hoped he hadn’t been wrong.

“Danny is just down the hall. In the bedroom on your left.”

Jack and Maddie murmured polite thank-yous before heading down the hall. Lancer took a few deep breaths but couldn’t steady his nerves. After everything that had happened…. Oh, for the love of The Railway Children, he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake, but it was far too late for him to second guess his decisions now. He’d make more tea—he’d happily drink the entire pot himself if no one else wanted any—and then join them. If nothing else, he’d have to apologize to Danny. His conversation with Jack and Maddie had not gone nearly as well as he’d hoped.

-|-

His parents burst into the room, all questions and concern, and Danny was happy he’d only eaten a little; his stomach was twisting enough that he wasn’t sure even that was safe.

Valerie pushed herself up and sat at the foot of the bed, neatly avoiding his parents as they came in with hugs and kisses and more questions.

Too many questions, considering they wouldn’t want to hear the answers.

“Mom, Dad, it’s okay. I’m fine.” A lie. His usual one. Habit. “Mr. Lancer’s been taking good care of me.”

“How long have you been here?” Maddie asked.

“Which ghost took you from the hospital? I’ll tear it apart molecule by mol—”

“It wasn’t a ghost.” If he was going to tell them the truth—and he couldn’t very well chicken out with Valerie right there, which come to think of it was probably the real reason she’d stayed—he might as well start there. “I didn’t…. I didn’t want to go to the hospital. I…I asked Mr. Lancer to take me to his place.”

“Sweetie, you know if you’re concerned about ecto-contamination, we’re much better equipped at home than the hospital, and we’d understand—”

“It’s not ecto-contamination.” He bit his lip. “I mean, I don’t…. I don’t think it is. Maybe it is. I just…. It…. That part doesn’t matter anyway. These—” he gestured at his injuries “—didn’t come from a ghost.” They came because I was the ghost. Except he couldn’t make his mouth form those words. “It was an accident.” Everything was an accident, except for the part where Vlad had specifically targeted him. “Phantom—”

“I knew that putrid piece of protoplasm was going to be involved!” Jack exclaimed. “Don’t worry, Danny, when we find him—”

“You don’t have to look for him.” He had to bite his tongue and swallow the urge to follow that statement with lies. Anything to mislead them. “He’s…here.”

“And not responsible,” Valerie said loudly as Jack and Maddie produced various weapons. “For any of this. Trust me, I was there, too. I was just lucky enough to get out of it unscathed.” They turned to her, but she answered their question before they could voice it. “I didn’t see Danny or I would’ve said something. I didn’t realize he was there until later.”

Man, she was good at that. Maybe that’s why she’d gotten away with ghost hunting for so long. He’d always figured her dad was more aware of her activities than his parents were of his.

Of course, now she was looking at him, obviously waiting for him to take what she figured was a golden opportunity.

Why did this have to be so hard?

“I was…hiding.” That wasn’t the right word for it. “I mean, I was there, but Valerie didn’t know I was there. No one knew I was there.” He didn’t know how to start explaining this. All he knew, now that those words were out of his mouth, was that this was not the best start. “She didn’t recognize me.” Was that any better?

“What do you mean, honey?”

Okay, clearly not any better. Why couldn’t he just come out and say it? I’m Danny Phantom. That’s it. That’s all he had to say. Three little words.

They probably wouldn’t shoot him immediately, considering Valerie was in the room.

Her presence should be enough to make them pause long enough to question him, as opposed to the usual ‘shoot first, ask questions never’ policy. They shouldn’t automatically assume that this was a trick of Phantom’s, that he’d developed the ability to shapeshift or something and was trying to pretend to be their son. Even though they already assumed ghosts were out to get them and were willing to use any trick in the book and….

Still. Valerie had taken it well. And his parents had in the past. Granted, they’d been a bit more prepared for it in the past. Somewhat. This wasn’t….

He should just spit it out.

“Do you remember when you first built the portal?” Maybe that was a better place to start.

His parents exchanged glances. “What are you getting at, Danny-boy?”

“My accident. In the lab. When you guys weren’t home, and I convinced you I didn’t need to go to the hospital once you got back. That I’d be fine. That I was fine.” He hesitated, watching as their expressions pulled into confused frowns. “I wouldn’t even have told you if I’d thought you wouldn’t notice we’d been down there. Me and Sam and Tuck, I mean. Because I was…scared.”

“Sweetie, you know you don’t need to be afraid of us. We don’t want you touching our prototypes because we’re not sure they’re safe for everyone else to use yet, and we don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I know. I…. Even though the portal was done, even though it wasn’t working, I just…. It was stupid. We were being…. We weren’t thinking. I mean, I still put on my HAZMAT suit, since I was poking around, but it was…. It wasn’t that I tripped on a cord and caused something to short out and something else to start working, or whatever we told you. I can’t even remember. The thing is, I actually went inside the portal. And then it…turned on. I mean, I…. I hit something. And then it started to work. While I was still inside.”

Silence. Fear on their faces. Concern, more like. His mom had gone white, and his dad put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Danny,” she whispered, “that could have killed you.”

That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? It nearly had. Maybe it really had. He still wasn’t even sure what he was. Poindexter had called him a halfa, and Danny had joked about being half ghost, but half ghost wasn’t really a thing. Half dead wasn’t really a thing, either. True, he hadn’t exactly tested the boundaries as far as he could have while Phantom—he still took air with him into space, even though he’d gambled that the cold and the vacuum wouldn’t immediately kill him, but…. Shouldn’t it have? If he was really human at his core?

He hadn’t thought about it at the time.

He hadn’t thought that he might not be able to change back.

Did that mean he really was more a ghost that could pretend to be a human than a human with ghost powers? What he and Vlad did, what Dani could do—was that just an extremely unique ability? Like his ghostly wail? Was that ability what really defined a halfa, just like shapeshifters had a greater control over their form than the average ghost?

Or was it just what Jazz had theorized, some infusion of ectoplasm messing with his DNA? Maybe it was just extreme ecto-contamination that should have killed him but hadn’t. Because of how he’d gotten it.

Just like Vlad.

“I know.” Danny looked away, not wanting to see their faces. He caught sight of Valerie’s horrified expression and turned away from her, too, only to find Lancer at the door. He had no idea how long Lancer had been standing there. He’d never heard the kettle whistling, but Lancer had reset the tray with a tea pot, a box of hot chocolate mix, and an array of empty mugs and spoons. His expression was more of grim acceptance than horror or surprise.

Maybe he’d guessed as much from what Danny had told him earlier.

Maybe he’d just guessed as much because he knew the Fentons pretty well after all those parent-teacher conferences he kept calling, not to mention all the ghost attacks he’d witnessed.

Danny tore his eyes away and stared at his hands instead, knitting his fingers together and breaking them apart and twisting them together again. “The thing is, when I first woke up…. I thought it had. Killed me, I mean. I was…. I was terrified. I wasn’t…. I wasn’t myself.”

He should look at them. Try to read their reactions. Gauge the situation. See if they’d figured it out, so he didn’t have to say it.

But he was afraid he might see something else in their eyes or their expressions. Something he didn’t want to see.

“My reflection wasn’t mine.” He didn’t want to be doing this. Why had he agreed to do this? He could have convinced Lancer to give him a bit more time, surely. Or at least managed to get Jazz here. She’d be good at damage control. She’d anticipate their questions and have answers at the ready, while he…. He wasn’t sure how much he was thinking and how much he was just talking to keep from outright panicking. “The boy in the mirror that looked back at me…. It was Phantom. I’m Phantom.”

He waited for questions.

He waited for denials.

He waited for the telltale whine of any of their myriad of weapons to power up.

Instead, springs creaked and the mattress shifted as his mother sat down on the bed between him and Valerie. Looking up, Danny saw his father sink into the chair Lancer had abandoned earlier. Neither of them said anything.

No one else did, either.

“Sam and Tucker knew from the start, since they were there when it happened,” Danny said into the stretching silence. “Jazz figured it out a long time ago. They’ve been helping me. I…. I didn’t know how to tell you, so I asked them not to say anything. To anyone.”

Maddie reached out and pried one of his hands free, gripping it tightly in her own. Now that he couldn’t go intangible, he wasn’t sure it was a grip he could break and stay free, and for a few panicked milliseconds, he thought she was grabbing him to keep him in one place. He wanted to pull back—had to actively fight the urge to pull back—and wait.

He knew it couldn’t have been a long wait, but it felt like an eon passed before Maddie said, “It doesn’t matter how you told us. It…it matters that you’ve told us.”

He couldn’t read all the emotions in her expression, but she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t ready to blame Phantom, to call this a trick, to pull him closer and hold an ectogun to his head.

And when his eyes flicked to Jack’s, he saw pride there.

Maybe they believed him after all. Maybe this wasn’t going to go as horribly as he’d imagined. Maybe—

“Breathe, Danny,” came Valerie’s voice, and he remembered to suck in a much-needed breath and relax.

And then he let himself change.

He wasn’t sure if his mother’s flinch was in reaction to the sudden light or the fact that the hand she now held was the gloved one of a ghost she’d long considered an enemy, but it still hurt.

It really, really hurt.

Even if she hadn’t meant it to.

“Danny-boy,” Jack breathed, but he didn’t say anything else.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispered.

Maddie squeezed his hand and glanced back at Jack before saying, “We’re sorry, too, sweetie. For not listening.”

“And for making you afraid to tell us,” Jack added. He got to his feet and wrapped Danny and Maddie in a hug. “We still love you, son. Don’t think we don’t.”

Danny was pretty sure he heard Valerie mumble I told you so under her breath, but he didn’t care. He just hugged them back and let his tears soak into their shoulders.

(see more fics | next)

[jamiedc-they-them]

Ye who held too much faith (Platonic)

welp hi again, can i request daenerys x brother!reader (or sibling if ur not comfortable writing for male reader) where r gets injured and dany takes care of him. whether he wakes up i leave it up to you

AN/ Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my writing :D Hope you enjoy!

There had been attempts on your life before. In fact, there had been multiple attempts on both of your lives during your journey together to cross the sea to take what was rightfully your own. The Iron Throne.

For Danny, her main goal was to seize the throne, but the other was to have you survive this war and be an adviser to her. As much as she knew that some families had incestuous tendencies (She was informed about them via Jorah) she broke that cycle when you were born. You were the youngest out of the siblings, thus making her more protective of you.

That’s what made this worse, that you had been hurt because of her mission to grab something to make you both feel more secure.

She had always been the protector, ever since your elder brother struck you, she did all she could to help you through those traumas. To help you feel a little bit safe, even if it meant that he turned his sights on her. It would’ve been worth it, as you would’ve been safe.

Now, here you laid, on the bed with a ghostly white colour to your skin. You looked dead, and maybe you were –

No, she couldn’t think like that, she couldn’t afford to.

You needed to be ok, you had to be. There was no other option; no other way this thing could go, really.

She wouldn’t let it.

“Have you slept yet, my queen?” Tyrion asked as he approached both of you, keeping his eyes on your sister as he spoke. He was clearly worried for her mental health; he knew that she wouldn’t be able to take much more of this. She seemed to just be losing people left and right.

Now it had really gotten personal with you.

You had to be ok, she didn’t care how it happened, you just had to be.

But, first, you had to wake up. You had to open your eyes and prove to the world that you were in fact alive.

 “I’m fine.” She said, though neither in the room believe it. Both could hear the quiver in her voice as she said those false words.

“Y/N might not –”

“Y/N will be fine.” She said, firmly, as if the other option didn’t exist. As said above, she wouldn’t let that version come into existence.

“He might not be.” He warned her, but it fell on death ears.

“He has to be…. He’ll make it, I’m sure of it.” She said, determined to make those words come true.

“As much as I believe in you and your cause, faith can sometimes go misplaced in anything or anyone.” He told her.

That did not get the reaction that he wanted to garner from those words, “Is that a threat?” She asked; as much as she had started to se him as friend, she was still weary of him and whether or not she should let him in.

Still, he was here; no one else had shown up, yet. No one had even asked her that question, yet. But he had. So, that meant something.

“For once, it won’t be.” She said.

The next moment, your hand that she had been holding tighten it’s held a little. It got her attention and stopped the conversation from continuing between the Queen and the Hand of said Queen.

“Are you alright?” Was the first thing your sister asked you as you opened your eyes; you took a moment to survey the room and realise that you were indeed safe and not in any immediate danger.

You then met the slightly worried eyes of your sister; since the day your brother had hit you, she had never fully ceased with that worry in her gaze. She was always mothering you. Hell, she was more of that than a sister at times.

She was mainly that as she wanted you to feel like you could be you. That you could be happy, even if a little. She just wanted you safe.

You were awake sure, but you still weren’t out of the woods, yet.

“What happened?” You asked her with a croaky voice, she passed you a mug of water; one you drank from in a rush, desperate to get yourself back up and ready to go as quickly as you could do.

“I- I, uhm…” She wasn’t sure if you even should know how you ended up like this. She had it all prepared beforehand; her lines rehearsed to a T; but that had all gone out the window the second you had opened your eyes. All she was going on now was instinct, both sisterly and motherly, to make sure that you were ok and see if she could help you in any way.

This was not one of those ways in her book.

“Danny,” She looked into your eyes again, “Please, I just want to know what happened. That’s all.” You told her softly, in an honest tone.

She sighed, knowing that she would only be making things worse if she didn’t tell you.

“Do you need me to fetch the –” Tyrion was about to finish his offer, when Daenerys answered.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own.” Her own voice was soft, she didn’t break eye contact with you. When you heard the door close, Daenerys sat on your bed and grabbed the bandage that the maester had left beforehand.

“Ok.” She said, as she begun to painfully recount what had happened to you.

 “Danny –” You said as you tried to beg your sister to let you go out to try and quell the seemingly endless amount of anarchy reigning outside. She, however, would not budge.

“No, Y/N! For the last time, I’m not letting you go out there, you’re safer here!” You sighed, knowing she was right. But that didn’t mean anything if there were still people dying.

Daenerys secretly hated that part of you, the part that was this selfless; granted, she had it too, just to a much lesser degree. Still, she knew that the fire of a dragon was deadly and rarely could be stopped. She knew that giving you the answer she gave wasn’t helping you; if anything, it was making you more and more impatient and more and more cause to want to go out and fight.

Still, that part of her soon died when the protective part of her overruled that thought.

“You are to stay, Y/N. I need you by my side…. What if you get hurt – what if you – I can’t…I can’t do this alone.” She said, letting her emotions take control now; let her worry be fully known to you. She couldn’t lose the advice you gave her; the way you could read her like a book and vice versa; but, most of all, she couldn’t lose her best friend and only surviving family member she could actually talk and communicate with.

She couldn’t go across the sea and have you not been there, it would feel hollow in doing so. She was waging this war for the both of you, after all. If you died, it would feel like this victory wouldn’t fully be earned.

“Danny,” You said softly as you grabbed her hands in your own, she squeezed them softly, “I…. I’ll stay, if that’s what you want. I’ll stay.” You promised you, even gave her a smile to try and sell it more.

She hugged you tightly, you returned the gesture, “Thank you, little brother.” She said as she then pulled away, planting a kiss on your head, before leaving to try and take back control of her currently burning city.

You let out an attempt of a calming breath as your sister turned the corner before exiting to your chambers. You had indeed done what she had asked, you just weren’t going to stay.

You also hoped that this wouldn’t backfire horribly.

 “How do you know I did that?” You asked Danny as she gently took off your old bandage and replaced it with a new one. Despite not being a maester, she was doing a decent job so far. She hadn’t caused you anymore pain and was quite calm. Externally that was, internally she was worried at making even the slightest mistake and hurting you.

“It was Grey Worm’s best summary of how you got out. No one else saw you; you aren’t as sneaky as you might think you are, sometimes.” She said in a teasing voice that then saddened when she remembered where those actions that got you.

“Oh…”

 The buildings were burning, and the streets were either filled with screaming people or the attackers in the city. You were in the midst of all that, of course; really, you hadn’t fully had a plan set out, mainly it was just go down and fight in any way you could.

You were capable of fighting, just not as well as these people were. You weren’t trained since birth, you weren’t forced to train every day, almost all day.

You were trained for a few hours to around a full day a week before you’d go back to supporting your sister.

So, in short, you were fucked.

You saw one civilian being attacked, and instantly ran over; the attacker swung at you, you ducked and tried to hit him; he, however, dodged and sliced you in the arm.

You sneered as you pulled a dagger and tried once again to attack the person, however, he blocked and punched you.

That was when the blade came down again.

“Why did you do it?” She asked as she wrapped the final new bandage; she did feel a bit stupid having now asked it, as she knew the answer, but she wanted to know your reasoning for it.

“You saved the city your way, I wanted to save it –” You stopped talking as you let out a gasp; Daenerys was set on edge, scared she had done something wrong; however, when your eyes started to show more blood in the corners, she knew it wasn’t her fault.

It was a poison instead.

“Y/N…? Y/N!” She cried out as she held your figure as it started to convulse erratically.

“Maester!” She yelled, hating to leave you, but having to find some help for you.

To make sure that you’d survive.

 The assassin must’ve thought you dead, as they had walked away the next moment. You weren’t, however, gone. But you had failed in your job to protect the woman, her dead and cold eyes stared back at you.

You were bleeding badly; you could almost feel the blood leaving your body. You managed to turn yourself over, only to see smoke still rising from one of the houses. There were still screams, but they were less in mass and fainter; whether that be further away, or you were losing consciousness or that one side was winning.

Only thing was, you didn’t know which one it was.

You turned to your side, placing a hand on the floor, your hand had patches of blood on it dotted around; you placed your second hand, seeing the same thing, only your left one held a lot more blood. That was most likely the hand that was on your now worse wound. You were sure it was probably infected by now.

 “How is he?” Daenerys asked nervously as she paced in the room, the Maester put a rag to your head to try and help with the sweating that had occurred moments after she left, it only made you shiver more however.

“It’s not just poison, my queen,” He told her gravely, “The wound was infected as well from dirt and other objects. Look here,” He pointed to your wound, “Someone had tried to cauterize it; however, they didn’t have much time or a clean instrument to use.” Danny gulped; the odds weren’t exactly in your favour for survival.

She was now allowing herself to panic, this could be your deathbed. This could be it, the moment it all fell apart.

 You fell into a crawl as your wound bled more and more. You groaned as you put your hand that had been scrapping through dirt to it, ignoring what that would do to you and your already agitated wound.

You slowly got back up, stumbling forward towards your palace in an attempt to get back to your room and find a way to patch yourself up without your sister finding you and worrying about you.

That was the last thing you wanted.

Your convulsions had stopped, but your sweating and groaning in pain had not ceased. Daenerys wished there was something she could do. However, in reality, the only thing she could do was hope and pray that the Maester would heal you and this would all be over. She could admonish you and then you both would move on.

Part of her knew, however, that neither of you would be the same after this. No matter what the outcome was. Even thought she hoped for the positive one (as any sister would), she knew that it would hold a lot of questions and doubt in the coming days/months/years until you both would reach your goal.

You reached the door, bloody hand pressing against it, it didn’t take much pressure to open it. Once it did, you pretty much fell inside, letting out another groan as you hit the floor in pain.

Someone reached you, your eyes opened to see Missandei hovering above you worriedly. She was speaking, but those words were lost on you as you felt yourself fading.

When you opened your eyes again to a blurry world, you saw the recognisable clothes of Dany kneeling next to you; you felt the faint touch of her hand as her own words were inaudible to you. But you were sure they were begging you to stay awake and not to leave her.

You closed your eyes one more time. This time not reopening for a while.

 She was outside of the room now, standing outside the door and nervously playing with her fingers. She didn’t have anything to say or do other than to stay silent and wait anxiously for the Maester to walk out of the room.

Finally, they did, but the grim look on their face told Danny all she needed to know.

You were gone.

 Daenerys had cried before over loss; she had cried before over pain. She had never done it over both at the same time, however. This felt like knives stabbing her heart over and over again without pause or an end in sight.

You were gone; her brother and her best friend in the whole world was gone. She was alone now, truly alone; the last of the Targaryen’s and left to carry the burden of being one alone.

She, however, looked out at the view of the city. Of the city you had died for, of the city you had helped her take just like the rest of them.

She let out a breath as she rose from her bed and went out onto the balcony, already missing how you would sometimes rest next to her and talk about your day or your plans for the future.

That would never happen again.

 “Fetch the Maester!” She yelled at anyone who would listen, Missandei was the one who followed through with it and left to get one. She, however, carried your body in her arms and burst into your room, placing your body on the bed.

“Please, Y/N; please, please, please, please. Don’t leave me, not yet. There’s so much we need to do. There’s so much I have to show you.”

 It was an empty promise now. There was, however, one more she could follow through.

That being to take back the kingdoms in your name.

 That fateful day led to a snowball affect: when she left to Winterfell, she was immediately outcasted, having you there would’ve helped calm that, helped her feel less alone; the next was the loss of two of her children, that loss made her fall further away from friends; then, finally, was the death of Missandei, her other best friend and a sister to you both.

It was what made her burn Kings Landing almost entirely to the ground, it was what led to her walking to the throne in a vision she had forgotten about long ago. She did it all in your name; all to make your death mean something.

It ended, however, with a dagger in the heart. As she slipped from this world to whatever came next. Her last thought, however, was of you; when she was an innocent but scared girl, and you were a damaged but happy child.

Those were simpler times, times when you could just be two siblings.

Now, you were both gone; if there was a world after this one, you’d meet there.

She’d make sure of it.

[iholdmysaiproperly]

This is my contribution to the @daredevilexchange, a fic for @valinorbound using the prompts, Foggy, Karen, and Matt setting up their new partnership, a post-Defenders reunion, and team as family. 

“What do you mean you haven’t spoken to any of the other Defenders?” Foggy asked as he strained to squeeze a conference table into the space above Theo’s shop. The Three Avocados, as Foggy liked to call them, were busy trying to convert space previously used for storage into a semblance of a lawyer’s office. 

Foggy and Karen were trying to treat Matt’s vigilante side job like a normal extracurricular activity. But it was proving to be a little harder for them than if Matt had taken up, say, the violin. Foggy thought that Matt was better off in a team up, rather than working alone - safer that way - and had brought up the Defenders. It turned out that Matt hadn’t spoken to any of them since the Midland Circle debacle.

Matt, after trying to duck the question for at least five minutes by attempting to clear some clutter from what was soon to be their waiting room and keeping up a running commentary of what he guessed the items were, had finally mumbled something about not having seen them since the building had come down. He hoped they would drop the subject, but judging from Karen’s quick intake of breath and the fact that Foggy had completely stopped all movement for about 10 seconds told him that this was never going to happen.

“Matt, buddy,” Foggy began, “I saw them after it all happened. When we all thought you were, you know,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “dead.” 

Behind him, Karen rolled her eyes, but stayed silent, emptying out an old file cabinet she hoped they could use.

“And, let me tell you, man, they were pretty broken up about it. I mean, you stayed down there when they all came up. That leaves a mark on people. Hell, Matt, YOU leave a mark on people, and you really need to get better at the whole,” here he stopped his futile efforts with the table and leaned against it, “you know, communicating thing. Starting with NOT LETTING PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU GO ON BELIEVING THAT YOU’RE DEAD.”

“What Foggy is trying to say,” Karen interrupted, shooting Foggy a look over her shoulder as she approached Matt, “Is that even if you don’t team up with these people again, you should at least let them know that you’re ok.”

“I’m sure they’ve heard by now,” Matt answered them dismissively. “It was a little hard to miss Daredevil’s return; it was all over the news!” Hearing both Foggy’s and Karen’s heartbeats start to pick up, he asked, “What?”. They were both getting worked up about something, but he really just wanted to focus on what they were doing - making a fresh start for the new Nelson, Murdock, and Page and making sure they were ready to open the doors on schedule. 

Seeing that Foggy was about to yell again, or possibly pull his hair out in frustration, Karen placed a hand on his arm and took a step forward, “Matt, don’t you think that they might want to hear it from you? Whatever the four of you went through down there, it was pretty intense. And then to think that you stayed down there when they all got out. That had to have been difficult for them. I think you owe it to them to at least let them know that you survived.” As she spoke, Karen moved slowly toward Matt, as if toward a skittish cat. “They may not love you like we do, but I’m sure they’d be happy to hear from you again if you were to reach out.”

Matt sighed, running his fingers back through his hair and turning away for a moment. They were right. He knew they were right, but at the same time, his plate felt awfully full just then. The Yakuza seemed to be trying to make a play for the hole left by the Hand, he, Foggy, and Karen were attempting to get their new partnership underway, which meant a lot of physical work as well as paperwork, and he was making more of an effort to be a better friend to both of them. This meant trying to juggle a worklife, social life, and his nightlife, and he lived in constant fear that one of those balls was going to drop on his head.

The thought of reaching out to three more people, even if it was just socially, was more than he really felt up to at the moment. Admitting that, however, was something that he just didn’t think he could do right now, either. He couldn’t see their faces, but he could picture the sympathetic looks that Foggy and Karen would give him, as well as the requisite pep talks and encouragement to cut back on his nighttime activities if he so much as hinted that he was feeling a little overwhelmed. 

After a moment, he decided that the only way through this was to admit that Foggy and Karen were right, and call up the other Defenders. Maybe he would get lucky and a quick phone call would suffice. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Murdocks don’t get lucky, Matt thought as the limo he sat in propelled him through the city. We get hit, we get up, we use pain to keep us going, but we never get lucky. 

Matt’s hope and plan went off the rails with his first phone call. It was to Jessica, who first hung up on him, then called him back to yell at him until he had to hold the phone away from his ear fearful of hearing damage. She hung up on him again, then called back, clearly inside a bottle, to yell some more. It took him two days before he recovered enough to call Luke, who was overjoyed to hear from him, but a lot more sane about the call than Jessica had been. Fewer expletives as well.

The call had gone so well, in fact, that he immediately called Danny, a decision he was now regretting. Danny had also been overjoyed to hear from him, and had immediately suggested that the four of them meet and catch up. “You don’t have to do a thing,” he promised over the phone, “I’ll arrange everything. Hey, did I tell you I bought that restaurant we all met at? Yeah, after the car came through the front window, I sort of had to in order to avoid being sued. Anyway, it’s mine now so I can host you all there for a reunion dinner! I’ll call the others and set it up, how’s the 20th work for you?” Given that it was the 1st, and the 20th seemed ages off, Matt agreed and hung up the phone wondering what he had gotten himself into.

The next few weeks flew by as they continued getting Nelson, Murdock, and Page up and running. They were officially open for business, and the word about the hot shot pro bono attorneys was spreading. Karen was almost never in the office, off following some lead while Matt and Foggy did their best to keep up with the unending stream of people who flowed through their doors.

They were so busy, in fact, that Matt had completely forgotten about his dinner with the Defenders until a limo had pulled up outside of the shop one evening, and a beaming Danny - he could actually hear the man smile - had him by the arm and inside the limo before he had time to blink. 

Any attempts Matt made at stalling or entering the restaurant quietly were thwarted by Danny, who pulled him inside, while calling out enthusiastically to the others the whole time. Matt was immediately greeted by a punch to the gut and an, “Asshole!” from Jessica, who was clearly still mad at his failure to communicate the fact that he was still alive. He struggled to get his breath back while he felt Luke watching him, “I’m STILL not giving you a hug,” the bigger man told him, his hands folded inside his hoodie, “But I am glad to see you, man. Glad you’re still with us.” And with that, he good naturedly swatted Matt on the arm while Matt tried not to flinch, remembering the wallop he had just received.

Luke moved off toward Jessica, who Matt could hear pouring shot after shot of what smelled like cheap whiskey. Guilt flooded him for a moment as he faced the fact that his decisions had caused this pain. But, he had promised Foggy and Karen that he was going to start doing better, so he took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was coming next.

Danny, who hadn’t let go of his arm as if afraid Matt was going to turn around and leave again, pulled him further into the restaurant toward a table in the back that was already filled with food. Given how much Danny could eat, that wasn’t surprising. Matt seated himself and began to toy with this knife and fork. For a moment he was actually thankful to be blind, as it meant he didn’t have to make eye contact with anyone as the others seated themselves at the table and dinner got underway.

The meal started out somewhat awkwardly with Danny doing most of the talking. Eventually, Matt managed to get a word in edgewise, and apologized to the others for not reaching out sooner. There was a brief pause while the others let him squirm for a moment, and then things relaxed and the evening became a lot more, if not fun, then at least enjoyable. 

So enjoyable, in fact, that when Jessica announced she had to leave to follow up on something, the other three decided to join her. A lot of whiskey went into this decision, but Jessica had said this was a routine surveillance, after all, so what could go wrong?

____________________________________________________________________________

Matt cursed the Murdock luck again as he ducked what sounded an awful lot like a computer printer flying at his head. The paper tray had come loose and was sliding outward in one direction while the power cord whipped around in the other, making a whistling sound that distracted him. He dodged the printer easily, but the cord caught him across the face. He grabbed it and used it to swing the printer back at the thug that had thrown it at him, knocking the guy backwards so that he stumbled into the man standing behind him, taking them both out.

 Jessica’s “routine surveillance” had turned out to be on a very angry and destructive executive who had been caught slipping back into his office presumably to destroy evidence that showed the fact that he had been appropriating funds. Jessica was acting on a tip that the scumbag was planning on leaving the country soon, and she was hoping to gather evidence of this tonight. 

A security guard clearly on the man’s payroll spotted Jessica taking pictures, though, and all hell had broken loose. The next thing any of them knew, they were engaged with several hired goons who had clearly been instructed not to let them get away. When the hired thugs realized that they were clearly outmatched, they became desperate, throwing everything but the proverbial kitchen sink at the group. It didn’t really matter in the end, but it did slow the Defenders down enough that the evidence was destroyed before the executive was out the door and into a town car. This led to a heated argument about whether they should follow him, or simply turn over the images that Jessica had managed to take before the shit hit the fan and walk away from the mess. Matt was personally torn on the subject; this wasn’t normally his game, but he hated to see guilty people slip away. Luke was all for turning over the evidence and getting out of there before someone called the cops on them, and Matt was leaning toward agreeing with him, but Jessica and Danny were outraged and argued that it wasn’t enough to simply send some images when the guy could be anywhere within an hour.

In the end, it was decided that Matt and Danny would trail him while Jessica and Luke got the images into the right hands. Thankfully, the guy was easy to trail from the rooftops, and they were able to keep reporting on his whereabouts while Jessica and Luke got the info to her client, who was able to go to the police with his case. 

It was dawn before Matt made it back to his apartment. He managed a quick shower and a quick nap before he dragged himself into the office for the day. For the first time in ages, he actually considered calling in, but he knew that if he did the others would worry, and he had enough guilt to deal with. Making them worry wasn’t something he could bring himself to do just then.

Foggy and Karen were waiting for him, both of them clearly eager to hear about how his evening had gone. Matt could hear them talking excitedly when he entered the shop and headed for the back stairs. They were hoping that he had enjoyed himself and that maybe he would consider working with one or more of them in the future, which Foggy felt would be safer for him in the long run, to have someone watching his back, what happened at Midland Circle notwithstanding. Matt was touched, and had to pause for a moment before he let them know he was there. He didn’t want them to realize that he had overheard them. That, and he was pretty sure he looked terrible after last night, plus he was moving a little oddly due to Jessica’s punch, which had left him a very sore, and black and blue stomach. 

He could smell coffee, though, and in his rush to arrive on time he hadn’t had any yet. He was so desperate for caffeine he was willing even to drink the coffee if Karen had made it. In fact, he might have to ask her to make him his own pot; he was so tired he was afraid he’d end up doing something dumb like forgetting to put the carafe under the stream. 

Pausing outside the door, he straightened up, suppressed a hiss of pain from his bruised abs, and plastered a smile on his face. He knew he looked bad, but he wasn’t sure exactly how bad until he went in and heard both Karen’s and Foggy’s heart rates jump up about 50 beats a minute each. They were both silent for a moment before they rushed him, talking at once.

“Matt! What happened,” Karen asked as she ran to take his cane and steer him toward a chair. 

“Matt, buddy! What the hell happened last night? I thought you were having dinner with Danny, Luke, and Jessica!” Foggy was alternating coming in close and quickly backing up again, obviously not sure what to do. “You look like shit, buddy. Don’t tell me you blew them off and went out Daredeviling,” Matt could hear the frown in Foggy’s voice and was quick to reassure him.

“No, no, I did meet up with them. I swear. And it was nice, really. I mean, Jessica punched me in the stomach when I first walked in,” Matt paused as he heard Karen’s sharp intake of breath. She reached a hand toward his stomach, but he brushed it away with a shake of his head. “I’ll be fine, really. And I did deserve it. I realize now that I shouldn’t have left them hanging like I did. And, can I get some coffee? Please? I was out till dawn, and I haven’t had any yet.” He trailed off, his head starting to pound from caffeine withdrawal. He must have looked as bad as he felt since Karen got up to fill him a cup without asking any questions.

“So, what, did Luke and Danny take turns on the rest of you? It looks like you got smacked in the face by a whip,” Foggy had finally succumbed to his need to be close to Matt, and was gently turning Matt’s face toward the window with his fingers so he could get a better look at the damage. 

“Actually, it was the power cord from a printer,” Matt said sheepishly as he took the cup of coffee from Karen, “Thanks,” he told her, “this is exactly what I need.”

“A power cord?” “From a printer?” Foggy and Karen spoke over one another in their confusion. Matt had to laugh in spite of himself. 

“Yeah, I know, it sounds weird. But… trust me we did have a great time. It was a little awkward at the beginning, but then we relaxed and it was good to catch up. I apologized for not having reached out sooner.”

“And they whipped you with a power cord?” Foggy interrupted. He and Karen were both confused, and starting to wonder if Matt had hit his head. 

“No, no, that happened later,” Matt laughed. “Jessica needed to go to check up on something for a client. We decided to follow her, and if I’m honest a lot of whiskey went into that decision. Things went a little sideways, which is where the printer came from. I’ll spare you the details, but the cops arrested the guy just before 4. We split up then and I made it home before 5, grabbed about two hours of sleep and here I am. We agreed to stay in touch, though, maybe make dinner a regular thing if not the fighting.” Matt smiled at his friends, who he could tell were torn about how they felt on this subject. 

“Well,” Foggy began slowly, “are you sure you want to be here today? No offense buddy but you really do look like shit. In fact, I’m not sure you should see any clients; I think you’ll scare them.”

Matt started to protest, but then paused, weighing Foggy’s words. It was true his appearance might be off putting to some of their older clients if Foggy and Karen’s reactions were anything to go by, and it was also true that he was trying to be more open about how he felt with Foggy and Karen - part of their agreement when they decided to work together again, but he honestly didn’t want to leave either, despite how gnarly he felt. He decided to come clean.

“Yeah, I know I probably look awful, and frankly I’m not feeling that great either, but I think I’d really rather be here with both of you than home on my own.” He paused to try to get a read on the others, but they were still and silent, heartbeats steady. More nervous now, he continued, “I could just hole up in the back, take care of the back end details, Foggy you could handle the face to face for the day,” he trailed off, as the others were still not giving him anything to work with.

Evidently, though, they had both come to a decision, “Sure thing, buddy,” Foggy said, standing, “Why don’t we clear off that table near the closet and you can work there for the day. It’s kind of hidden behind those weird Chinese screens my mom stashed up here, so no one will see you. And besides,” he said, with a glance at Karen, “I think I speak for both Karen and myself when I say that we’d probably be happier to have you here with us where we can keep an eye on you than have you off on your own, knowing that you’d be likely to jump off a fire escape or something just to help an old lady across the street.” He was smiling, Matt could hear it in his voice. Karen said nothing, but refilled his coffee cup and went to start clearing off the back table. 

Matt smiled at Foggy in relief, glad to finally have no secrets between him and his friends - his family.

[britcision]

Okay so it is Vital to note that the Talons follow Baby Danny (and by extension usually Alfred or Jason) around like baby ducklings

Even once they’re settled in to the manor and are being “gently encouraged” to separate and do their own things and try to recover their selves

If Jason walks through a room carrying Baby Danny, any Talons in the room turn and follow him without thought or question, just dropping whatever they were doing

(They help Alfred clean a lot. It keeps their hands busy, is mechanical enough that they understand it, and frankly one man, even one reverse-poltergeist cannot clean all of Wayne Manor every day on his own)

At first it was very alarming, especially if one of the living have picked up the baby

But the Talons never attack, or behave threateningly

They just follow you around like baby ducks, watching intently as you do whatever you’re doing with the baby

(Bruce copes by pretending he’s teaching them how to do things like change a diaper and they’re his rapt audience)

Also, a four month old baby? Not up to proper baby babbling. There’s noises and gurgles and giggles, and obviously crying, but there’s just no language yet

Baby Danny is communicating with the Talons almost solely through his aura and ghost empathy, which again… utterly befuddles the living bats

So: Tim and Duke

Everyone else seems to think this baby can fucking Talk and Tim is just confused beyond belief at how they claim it is telling them things??? He didn’t even make a sound that time the fuck do you mean he hates my hair????

Even the ones who only died a little bit like Dick and Steph can still get a general feeling of what Danny wants

Duke can see the aura and sometimes see it fluctuate but translating that to feelings?? Words?? He does his best but come on

And unfortunately for them, the Talons are taking their lead from Baby Danny and are barely verbal anyway, so persuading them to actually speak takes a while

DP x DC prompt;

"I'm sorry, Hood. Can you repeat that? There is no way I heard that correctly."

"No, you did hear me right. I am surrounded by at least 50 Talon and all of them and myself are at least partially mind-controlled by this meta. Good news: he appearantly only wants someone to take care of him. Bad news: he's only 4 months old and doesn't understand I'm not his dad. Please help."

Or: a de-aged Danny ends up accidentally Ghost King-ing his way into a really weird family.

[cl-babydew]

14.) “Please...stay...” Debbigail

This was requested by cartoonromantic. If this fic had a title, it would be “Their Stars”. The OCs that I mention in here belong to @thatsweetestdream (Vela and William) and @sophfandoms53 (Skye, Chase, and Danny). I hope you guys enjoy!

Flashback

“Oops.”

That was the last thing Webby heard before the lights cut out, leaving her petrified and swallowed in the pitch of the room.

Someone cut the lights. She’d be fine if she were in her room, at least there she had her back up lights, not to mention, her glow stars. But standing in the middle of the hallway with nothing, caused her to silently panic as she debated on feeling around or not.

She could feel her sanity slowly slipping through her fingers as a familiar warmness begun to prick at the creases of her eyes. Her breathing was more rapid than usual, as if she ran a marathon. Her heart beat a mile a minute. She didn’t know what scared her more, the thought of her heart beating out of her chest, or the darkness- well she isn’t afraid of death so it must be the darkness...it’s definitely the darkness! At least no one could see her cry, she guessed.

Webby was this fierce warrior in their eyes, and crying would show her weakness. They’d think less of her if they knew how truly weak she was! The girl grasped at her head, squeezing her eyes shut, only making her tears and fear build up more rapidly. She needed to maintain herself in front of them, so the power being cut off was in one way a good thing. She could cry and freak out all she wanted now that no one could judge her. Reputation as the hardest to contain in her opinion. Why was she like this?

She didn’t even know if she was moving or still frozen in place!? Most likely the latter. Thankfully she could hear voices of the others bouncing off the walls in order to help her navigate through the mansion, or in hopes of someone finding her. Being alone in the dark was one thing she didn’t want to have to deal with much longer.

Shuddering in a shaky breath, she started edging forward slowly, little by little as she brushed against the invisible surroundings. The trembling girl hissed into the dark as she stumbled over something, her mouth catching a stray piece of hair causing her face to scrunch up. If she didn’t want to be alone for much longer she had to do something about it. Grabbing her stolen stance back, she chewed on the inside of her cheek, debating on her options as she came to her own conclusions. No one’s going to find her if she just stood there frozen and crying like the terrified girl she is.

Shaking her head, Webby continued to push forward, or what she assumed was forward. Her burning eyes may have adjusted just a bit by now, but it wasn’t much help in all honesty. At least she could sort of see her hands now. Shrugging it off, the girl dragged her feet along the floor, still at a slow and cautious pace if she were to ever bump into something it wouldn’t hurt too much during impact.

Her stomach was rupturing so much fear that she had such an urge to throw up. Webby pushed that down too; she pushed everything down like she always did. The boys get their mom back and she becomes somewhat unseen, pushed that down. No mysteries really left for her to solve, leaving her feeling empty, pushed that down as well. The boys actually having their family reunited, pushed down the fact that she’ll never know what that feels like. The point was, she pushed down everything and she could feel it fighting for a comeback that she was not willing to let win. No matter how horrified or sick she felt.

“Huey, Louie, Webby? Anyone there, or here- anywhere?”

Webby’s heart jumped, wheather it be over fear or joy, she didn’t care as she breathlessly shouted back as relief washed over her like a cool wave in the heat of the summer. She had to fight the yearn to want to run to the sound of his voice, she needed to think rationally before she gets herself into a situation worse then this.

“Dewey? Dewey! I’m over here!”

Her startling voice bounced off the walls, echoing throughout the halls before it finally reached Dewey’s ears. The boy’s emotions perked up at her familiar friendly voice, sending sparks of energy suddenly igniting within him. Unlike Webby, he did begin running. Running into things without thinking was his thing after all; could you really blame him for running to something that could give him comfort and send a butting joyful feeling through him? In that moment, it felt like he had springs in the bottom of his feet as they alliterated him off the ground with every step he took.

Almost tumbling over his two feet, he came to a hurried stop, skidding his feet on the ground, briefly slipping, his chest heaved as he called out in question, “Webby...where’s here?” He chuckled sheepishly, a drop of sweat sliding down the side is his face.

She came to a halt at the touch of a wall, the coolness contrasting with her warmth. Webby lead hand to her pale face, tapping on her check as she hummed to herself.

“Let me come to you, just-“ her voice ran against her, “-just keep talking Dewey!”...”Please keep talking...”

Feeling desperate at this point, Webby sped up a bit, hoping to not run into anything as she did. Dewey followed her instructions and kept talking; he may get on her nerves at times, but in moments like these, he was her lifesaver. Or was he her lifeline? She wasn’t quite sure what he was to her, but she knew he was something she couldn’t comprehend yet.

“-so it wasn’t my fault the lights went out, you know?...Web-Webby? You still there?” Dewey ventured a little hesitantly, noticing her lack of chatter. He looked up from toying with the hem of his sleeve, holding his breath as if he could hear better in doing so.

After a bit of silence he felt something or someone grasp onto his arm, causing him to jump and cry out. His eyes shut as he flung his arms them around in an attempt to defend himself.

Webby cling to one of his arms, hovering her voice over his, “Dewey! Shhh it’s me! It’s ok!”

Grunting, the boy relaxed with relief, her touch sending tingles throughout his body, “Oh! Why did you go quiet on me all of a sudden, you really freaked me out.” He complained.

Webby slid her hand down his arm in order to intertwine their fingers, ignoring his reaction of tenseness. Her breath shuddering awkwardly.

Dewey squeezed her hand in reassurance to her comfort, “You ok Webs?”

She breathed out, flattering a bit of a smile, even if he couldn’t actually see her, “Yea..I am now anyway.” She murmured in a hushed tone, admiring his drops of worry.

Putting her grip tightening on hold, Dewey changed the subject, keeping her at thought. “So...do you know how to get back to the others?” He chuckled nervously.

The girl blinked, the fiddling with their fingers stopped, melting Dewey’s grin. He heard Webby groan, “No, I thought you did? Didn’t you come from everyone else?”

Dewey -she imagined him rubbing the back of his neck- answered apologetically, “Not exactly...”

Webby whined, “How are we suppose to know where we are going?!” Mumbling, she huffed out, “My night vision goggles would really come in handy right about now.”

Bitting at his beak, Dewey tugged on her hand, voicing his worry once more, “Are you sure you’re ok? You don’t seem to be acting like your usual Webby self.”

Her stomach kept doing flips as it continued to bubble, her thoughts were enough to help her forget, sadly not anymore. “It’s nothing Dewey, I promise. Let’s just see if we can find my room, it should be around here somewhere.” Before he could protest, she pulled him along, gliding her hand against the rough walls. All she could think about were those stars. She needed to get to them before she did something she’d regret. “Swallow your fear Webby...” The noise of her teeth gritting together was enough to bring back attention and concern to Dewey’s face.

To his utter annoyance, the girl kept ignoring his every retort and yearn to communicate with her. This wasn’t Webby, and he knew something was wrong that she just wasn’t telling him. It frustrated him to no end; how could he help her is she wouldn’t open up? Biting on the inside of his cheek, the boy struggled to keep up with her frantic pace.

Webby didn’t have time for communicating, he needed to understand that- why couldn’t he understand that?! Can’t he see? She needed her stars, and she needed them now!

Her eyes fluttered as she felt his beak collide into her back. His collision wasn’t why her eyes fluttered though, relief washing over her as they finally reached her room. The glow barley illuminated the hallway wall from across it. It’s a good thing she left her door open.

Dragging him once more, she pierced into her room, bathing in the glow of her stars. Taking a breath of fresh air, she almost forgotten about the blue duck that she dragged along with her.

“Webby?” She heard the hesitance and worry dripping from his voice. Shivers erupted through her body, readying herself as he stood there eyeing her.

Sighing, she turned to him with a soft apologetic smile, “Sorry for dragging you,” she scratched at her cheek while her other hand danced between the strands of her hair with her delicate touch. “I’m...” fidgeting, her eyes jerked to the ground, avoiding her wondering gaze, her fingers freezing in thought. Webby wanted to tell him so badly, but what would he think? He would just laugh at her. Glancing back up to him, the boy’s eyes twitched, something seeming to click within him in understanding.

Bitting down on her bottom beak, the taste of iron stung her tongue. She wasn’t sure whether he could see her shaking crazily from the outside, because his eyes that were wide, melted into something so soft. Her heart almost melted, almost. She shuffled under those soft ocean eyes.

Without saying anything, he walked to her side, gliding his gaze to the glow stars, then her. How could he be so blind? Of course she was scared of the dark, it explained so much. His eyes studied her now relaxed features as she admired the stars with a glimmer in her eyes. The girl’s shoulders began slipping from tenseness. Not wanting to disrupt her peace, he brushed off his newly found knowledge.

He didn’t know if it was just the stars on her ceiling or that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but his gaze softened at the glow that seemed to surround her. He investigated deeper as the stars continued to bounce off her eyes, causing them to shimmer. She looked so...calm.

Without realizing he was moving, his hand reached for hers, grasping it lightly and sending a gentle tingling squeeze her way. His best friend’s eyes fluttered from the stars, then to his own. The boy’s smile grew as his eyes rested upon her shy and flustered feathers.

Breaking the silence and contact, he awkwardly peeled his eyes away and above him. He didn’t mean to stare for as long as he did. He felt his own cheeks ruffling up as he bit back a wince wanting to break out and ruin the peace on his features.

In desperate need to want to clear the air, he tapped on the tip of his beak -with the hand that was still intact at the moment- sifting his thoughts elsewhere.

“Um- what would you call that star?” He questioned, chancing a side glance.

A giggle slipped through her beak, “What do you mean?” Call him crazy, but he could’ve sworn he saw a shade of light pink dust against her cheeks. His chest burst with flames, swallowing back the tingly feeling of her hand twitching between his as they both playfully squeezed back-and-forth

Chuckling as he guided their hands towards the stars, he repeated, “What would you call them? You know, Little Dipper, Big Dipper?...” Trailing off, he weighed with his shoulders, half smiling in hopes she’d understand what he was getting at.

A beat passed, then with a hop she perked up, a smile tugging at her beak, quirking up. He’d be lying if he said that his heart wasn’t beating faster then he was breathing.

Shaking his thoughts away, he listened curiously, “That one,” she pointed with their intertwined hands, “That’s William...oh! And right next to him is Vela!”

Dewey mused back, “Why William and Vela?”

Shrugging, she shyly tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “It just...feels right, ya know?” Her eyes traveled back to the two stars as she let their hands fall. “It feels...familiar.”

He felt a tug at his beak, flicking his eyes to the stars, raising their hands back up to point at another, “That one’s rubbing me as a Dewey JR.!” He puffed out his chest as his teeth presented themselves.

Webby’s head snapped back to her best friend, giggling as her shoulders and hair bounced along, “Actually, I see that one more as a...hm...” she froze in thought, puffing out one of her cheeks. Over the years of knowing Webby, he picked up on a few little things she would do. Yet, she still fascinated him to no end.

“Skye!”

Jumping slightly, he blinked his eyes, registering her words for a few seconds.

Coming to the conclusion, he looked to the star, his features melting with contentment, “Huh...I see what you mean.” He chuckled in understanding.

Both caught each other’s eyes, looking back at the other in sync, flustering shyly, “I like that name, it has an adventure seeking type of vibe to it.” He breathed, quickly turning back as he felt his cheeks heat up under her brightness.

Slowly gazing up, Webby whispered under her breath, “Yea...” and while not looking back, she asked him his suggestion on the one next to Skye’s.

Dewey beamed up at the star, creating one hand into a confident fist, “Oh! I got it!” He snapped. “Danny! That one’s definitely a Danny!”

Webby hummed uncertainly, “I don’t know, Dewey?” She smirked, leaning her head opposite of him to see if that would help her see what he meant. Shrugging, she switched her balance, “I see that one more as a Chase.” She pointed with her free hand this time.

Dewey sulked playfully, “Then why did you ask me, if you were only gonna knock down my suggestion.” He complained, fighting a smile as he heard her laugh, “Also, what’s wrong with the name Danny, and why Chase?” He cringed.

Webby shook her head, rolling his eyes in a teasing manner, “Like I said before, Chase just feels right, especially for that star.” Adding hope back into his eyes, she elbowed his side, “How about I let you name the next one?”

He hesitated, “You won’t knock down my idea?” He squinted, unsure if she was joking or not.

Grabbing his other hand as she bounced on her webbed feet, she grinned, “I promise!”

A smile crept onto his beak, relaxing his shoulders, just noticing they were tense in the first place. “Then...” he scanned the stars, debating his options, “I’ll call that one,” he freed his hand from her sift grip, drifting it up to the Star next to Skye and Chase, “Danny!”

Webby gave him an encouraging nod and one of her cheesy smiles to assure him that she was ok with it.

They continued playing around, pointing at the stars and naming them between laughs, while enjoying the others company.

With Dewey, he always understood her. She didn’t have to say much, because he understood and knew how to make her feel better. In this moment, she didn’t dwell on her problems, or the dark around them. That was just how Dewey affected her. He taught her to live in the moment of the positive and forget the negative, and she couldn’t be more grateful for that. For him.

And for once...she knew she was going to be ok, because she had him to get through problems like these, together.

End of flashback

The 41 year old Webby smiled sadly at the fond memories, resting her hand upon the grave she now stood above. Her shadow wavered over the faded flowers, wilting continuously.

Even when not here, he was still a comfort for her. She loved him, and she knew he loved her. That’s all she needed in order to get through the unfairness of life. At least that’s what she would tell herself...Guilt and bitterness phased through her bones as she swallowed back her sorrow.

Crouching down to kiss the top of the tombstone, her hand reaching down to rest the blue fading flowers on its bed-like structure. She ignored the symbolism of the wind mocking her, causing a few petals to gently slip off and into the winds care. They were out of her reach now, leaving her behind to fend for herself. The feeling of nostalgia rustled within her, threatening to break her at any given moment. But she knew better then to give into its ways of torture.

After lingering a bit in the pitch of the night, Webby looked up to the stars, closing and opening her hands in sync with her breathing. Her frown washed away as her beak mimicked a small and determined smile, now turning to walk the opposite way.

Before she took much of a few steps, a breathless chuckle escaped her beak, feeling 3 young teens clashing into her for a surprise hug.

“Hi you three, I thought I told you to stay in the car?”

They looked up at her, smiling sadly as their eyes flickered between their dad’s grave and their mom’s tried, swollen eyes.

The only girl out of the trip spoke up softly, “We know, but we wanted to see dad too.” Her face buried into her mom’s side, looking for comfort and a sense of hiding.

The mother’s eyes flickered from something worried to soft in seconds, resting her hand upon her daughter’s head. A memory of Dewey running around the house with his little girl in his hold, giggling as Dewey attempted to make airplanes noises

Her features didn’t even have time to settle back into a frown, hearing her youngest among the three -around 12- cry out in agreement, “Yeah!” He grinned widely, bringing life to that Dewey classic smile she loved so much. He was the spitting image of their father. Her heart ached, fighting back tears as she smiled down at their children.

Rubbing her hand through their other sons’ hair -a twin to his sister- as she answered, “I got a better idea...”

A few minutes later they were sitting around the grave, pointing at stars and creating names for them.

As crazy as it seems, every star they named back then, became what she cherished and loved today, her parents who she finally got to meet a few years ago, her three babies. They may be almost teens, or in their teens, but they were still her stars. Their Stars.

Webby looked at each of their shinning stars, hearing Dewey’s voice echoing along hers in her head, “Skye...Chase...Danny...”

They were their stars, and Dewey was the light shining within them.

———————

Well...this wasn’t gonna end like this...until the last minute when I was first writing It, I changed it! XD IM SO SORRY!! Thx to Soph and Sweetness for allow me to borrow their ocs!!!! I love them and their ocs so much! Those two are amazing and have amazing ideas!!! I can’t help but admire them!

[thatssonanii]

Stop Playin' With Me

HAHN

"He did what?" Lainey asked pulling her hair into a ponytail.

Oliver nodded, "He tried to throw me in front of the bus then he berated me in front of everybody."

Lainey's tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth.

"Where are they, Baby Danny?"

"They're having a meeting in the oval."

Lainey nodded and walked pass Oliver headed towards the oval. Kelis and Priscilla tried to stop her but quickly backed away when they saw the glare she gave. Max stuck his arm out to stop her, Lainey looked at his arm then back at him.

"Do you like me, Max?"

"Um ... yes ma'am."

"Good. I like you too," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, "You like having two arms?"

"Yes ... yes ma'am."

"Then you have about 2.5 seconds to move it outta my way or I'm gonna break it. And you know I will, you saw what I did to Kyle."

"Yes ma'am, " he said quickly moving his arm allowing her into the oval.

The door swung open, banging against the wall starling the four men. All of their eyes were on her as she slowly approached her husband. The carpet felt plush under her bare feet with each step she took.

"Hey beautiful. What's up?" Charles asked with a smile.

She folded her arms, "You tell me."

"First Lady, I'm sure whatever you need Kelis can take care of," Landen interjected.

Lainey opened her mouth to say something smart but Charles cut her off.

"Conley, Hunter, you two remember my wife, Alaina."

Hunter's eyes roamed the younger woman's body for a second, "Who could forget such a beautiful face? Nice to see you again."

"Right, Alaina, it's nice to see you. Looks like your baby is growing and healthy," Conley spoke politely.

"Hunter. Conley." She said curtly. "Now back to you, Charles. What's going on?"

"Nothing that you need to know about. Do you need something, Lainey?"

Taken back by his tone, Lainey shifted her weight and frowned, "What?"

Hunter whistled, "I know that look. Wife is not amused or pleased."

"I'm so sorry about this Attorney General and President Franklin," Landen remarked with a smirk.

Lainey glared at Landen momentarily then looked at Charles and snapped her fingers.

"You, up now. We need to talk."

Charles looked up at his wife, "Not right now, Alaina. I need to finish my meeting. Now if you don't mind."

Lainey pinched the side of his neck making him hiss and pop her hand, "I'm not leaving. Get up."

"Stop it, Alaina. Go wait for me in the bedroom. I'll be there when I'm done."

Conley laughed, "Joys of being married. Being in the white house changes nothing."

"You mind your got damn business," she snapped.

Charles jumped up and ushered his wife out of the oval. He walked her out of the oval straight to their bedroom. He closed and locked the door.

"What the hell is the problem, Alaina?"

"You are my problem! For starters, who the hell do you think you were talking to? Like I wont tell my brothers."

Charles stared at her, his jaw muscles ticking.

"Then I hear you let that pissy ass bastard berate him and try to throw him under the bus! What the fuck is that? I told you I wanted his pissy ass gone!"

"Is that it?" He asked smoothly.

"No," she scoffed, "It's not! I thought I told you that Conley would NOT be attorney general! You got them big ass ears and still can't listen!"

"Aye, aye! Enough! That's enough, Alaina! I am fine with you dictating our relationship but you will NOT dictate the way I run my white house, my staff or who I pick for my staff! Is that clear?"

"You don't talk to me like that!"

"Yeah, I do when you start to overstep your boundaries, Alaina! And as far as Baby Danny, Olover whatever the hell his name is, he doesn't report to you, he reports to me. If he doesn't like something then he needs to tell me, not you! And that will be handled," Charles explained harshly staring his wife directly in her eyes. "He will no longer accompany you unless you and I are together and there will be zero communication."

"You better not fire him, Charles!"

"Again, that's my business, not yours! Stay out of it!"

Alaina started to grab pillows off their bed throwing them at him then moved onto her night stand throwing her crystal candy dish, the staff phone, and clock at him. Charles was able to duck most of it and approached his wife, backing her into the wall.

"I don't know what you think this is or who you think I am but cut it out," he said through gritted teeth, "I am not Mitchell or Benny, you will not jump on me, hit me or throw shit at me! And you are not Victoria or Veronica! Act like you have sense, Alaina! Are we clear?"

Before she could answer, Oliver poked his head in after knocking lightly and unlocking it.

"Is everything okay? Landen told me I should check on you guys."

"Tell that pissy ass bastard to mind his fucking business," Alaina spat ignoring Charles' glare.

He held his hand up to Oliver without turning around, "Disregard that. Let them know that I'll he there in five minutes, Oliver."

"Yes sir. I'll stay with First Lady until you're done."

"No, you won't. You go help Max. There's zero communication between you two from now on. Is that understood,' he asked still looking at his wife.

"Yes sir," he said quickly before bowing out.

"Stay in this room until I come back. Do not leave this room. Do not text Eddie. I'm gonna ask this question again for the third time and you know I hate repeating myself," Charles spoke in a low tone, "Is. That. Clear?"

Lainey nodded looking around. He took a long, hard look at his wife them backed away a less than pleased smirk on his face.

"You gon stop playin' with me, Alaina. This isn't over," he said loosening and taking off his tie, "When I get back we'll talk annoy it in greater detail. Yeah?"

Again she nodded.

"Can't hear you."

"Yes, Charles."

Nodding, Charles turned to open the door. He chuckled to himself. "Throwing my damn candy dish. Just wait."

[nelkcats]

As he headed towards his next job, Danny began to think about his previous jobs and how he got to this situation, apparently babysitting was profitable, but that wasn't the reason he was doing it.

When he moved to Crime Alley he noticed the looks between everyone, a kind of communication, but it wasn't dangerous, it was more cautious, if he looked closer he could see an underlying fear, he knew that look because he saw it every day in the mirror thinking about how to tell his parents his secret, probably afraid of being found out, but ¿why so many people? It seems like an internal circle.

-------●----------●------------●------------●--------

He discovered the reason when he found a girl in an empty alley, on the verge of tears, there was fire all around her but it seemed to be avoiding her, although the burns on her hands told a different story. He tried to get closer but she flinched, he shouldn't be surprised.

- ¿Who are you? ¿What do you want?-

Like any child caught in a difficult situation, she put on a brave face, Danny decided to duck as he sighed- Just a Phantom, are you alright? -

The girl looked at him suspiciously, evaluating if he was a threat, he supposed that it must be reasonable - ¿Are you with the bats? -

Danny raised an eyebrow at the question, intrigued - Well, last time I checked I couldn't talk to animals, so I guess not -

The girl snorted - Not the animals, the vigilantes, ¿don't you know about them? They're walking down the streets in their bat costumes and stuff...-

- Wow, I didn't know my neighbors were furry, but I bet one of them is a millionaire -

The girl, who now that he saw her up close looked so small and thin and couldn't have been more than 8 years old, answered - It's okay, Red Hood takes care of us instead of them, but I'm not fine, and Red can't help when I call fire - she seemed like she was trying not to cry.

- I can help - he was sure of it.

- ¿For free? I doubt it, I'm small but not stupid- the fire around her seemed to increase- ¿don't you know? I have the M on my records, I'm doomed to this, maybe even Arkham if I can't get it under control in time -

Oh, so she was a meta, he must have imagined that, but he had already made up his mind - Well kiddo, I still think I can help and if it makes you feel any better, you can spread the word in return for my services, I like to take care of the metas I am.. similar - he smiled as he formed an ice crystal in his hand - a bit of Elsa on my part but hey, at least is my own talent ¿right?

The girl seemed to consider it before laughing - Okay, you have a deal, my name is Cassidy, just don't sing let it go ¿okay? -

And like Cassidy, he had many stories about children he had found, little meta kids who are sad, some out of control, some insecure, but all undoubtedly lost.

As if the moment they put the M next to their name on the records they had been convicted, maybe they had, but Danny was determined to change their mind.

He couldn't help but smile fondly when remembered his protégés; he knocked on the door of the apartment that his new client had indicated to him in the mesages, maybe this was another child who needed help, he always had time to help them. (But maybe he needs to stop going to random places people choose, one day)

The door opened, redhead seemed to peek out cautiously before noticing him, he greeted him enthusiastically as he invited him in.

- ¡Hello! People call me Panthom ¿you needed help? ¿Services of a babysitter perhaps? - he tried to start a conversation, determined to ignore the other man he noticed in the room, he looked incredibly muscular, almost as big as a tank and it felt rude to look at him, maybe he was the couple of the redhead and Danny was determined not to be inappropriate in his job, nevermind the hot tank men holding guns, he's going to pretend he didn't see that thing pointing at him, he is here for a kid, not to flirt with a married man, no sir.

- Well, Lian is not a meta but I'm sure you'll do well ¿are you the nanny? - Roy still wasn't entirely sure about the idea, the boy almost seemed too harmless even if he didn't give his real name, and he was sure the guy saw the weapon but decided to ignore it, although coming from Crime Alley...it was nor surprising, at all.

- ¿She is not? That's strange, usually my number only expands in meta circles, and yeah its me -he was pleasantly surprised, though perhaps he should consider upgrading his security, in case of any bats infection.

Oblivious to his thought, Jason was thinking about his family trying to sneak into his territory to find the source of some "rumors" or whatever, he supposed he figured out the mystery but he wasn't going to tell them, he was allowed to be petty once in a while. Besides, Crime Alley belonged to him and he hated them looking there, the whole gang was kicked out and they knew it.

-Well, as I was saying, my girl is not a superpowered human or alien but she has as much energy as one, and you'd be surprised who has your number, Red Hood himself gave me a recommendation; I'm going to be in a meeting for a couple of hours anyway, the food is ready and I have some special directions written in a note on the fridge, ¿can you still stay? -

Danny's brain turned off while Jason and Roy looked at each other knowingly, a smile on the the first one face - Oh sure, I guess I can sleep on the sofa if your meeting goes on more time than estimated, if that doesn't bother you, I hope that you put the kid allergies if she have some and of course, Hood has my number cause he recommended me and- DID YOU SAY THAT HOOD RECOMMENDED ME?-

Danny is a meta Babysitter

Is not public information, but all Crime Alley know it, ¿the only rule? Don't tell the heroes

So, imagine the surprise when Roy Harper contacted him (¡¿cause Hood recommended!?)

[gokailyger84]

I love your writing so much! I am too scared to ask off-anon, but have you ever thought about 'Werewolf Brian' and 'Hunter Danny'? Dan doesn't realize the werewolf he's been tracking for a couple months now is Brian until he watches it turn back into Brian. He's already got a WHOLE LOTTA feelings about Brian that he hasn't explored and THIS is the last thing he needs.

accidentally put this to the wrong ask.  (sure that was confusing)

“Another successful capture. As expected of one of our top hunters.”

Dan smirked as he watched the teller type on the computer, tallying up his payout.

“This one wasn’t too difficult. Probably a young one.”

Glancing  over his shoulder, he watched as four men surrounded the large cage.  Inside was what looked like a large dog. But it wasn’t a dog. It was a  werewolf. It’s ears were flat on the back of it’s head, teeth bared and growling low in it’s throat.

The men ignored the beast and each  grabbed a handle on the cage and lifted it up, causing the animal to let  out a startled yelp as it lost it’s footing.

Dan continued to  watch as the men carried the cage to the back room, the beast giving him  one last look before the door closed. Frowning, Dan turned back to the  teller. Maybe it was his imagination but it looked like the beast was glaring at him. As if it couldn’t believe that Dan was doing this to it.

That  had been happening a lot lately. Whenever Dan made a capture, it seemed  like there was a hint of intelligence behind the beast’s eyes. But he  knew that couldn’t be true. Everyone knew that once you became a  werewolf, your humanity was lost. Leaving behind a bloodthirsty beast. A  threat to everyone.

Dan had been a hunter for around two years  and had already built up a name for himself. He had around a eighty  percent success rate, easily placing him among the elite hunters despite  still being considered a newcomer.

Like most hunters, Dan had a  personal reason why he became one. When he was younger a werewolf had  attacked him and his younger sister. Dan had escaped with only scrapes  and bruises, his sister had not only been bitten but taken by the  werewolf. He and his family never saw her again. Dan had sworn that he’d  rid the world of the creatures.

“Alright, Mr. Avid/an. The money  is in your account. As always, thank you for your service. I look  forward to your next successful capture.”

“Thanks.” Dan said,  moving to leave when something caught his eye. Turning back around, he  leaned to the side looking past the teller.

On the wall was a  medium sized poster. A grey and white werewolf stared back at him. It’s  steel blue eyes, seeming to pierce through him despite being a  photograph. The teller followed his gaze.

“Aspiring for the top prize, huh?” The teller said with a knowing gaze.

Dan’s eyebrows furrowed and he sighed heavily.

“Not really. Believe that one is beyond me. It’s slipped out of my hands twice now.”

The teller’s eyes widened. “You’ve had encounters with it?” Dan nodded.

“Wasn’t even hunting it. Both times, I just kind of stumbled across it.”

“That’s amazing! Most hunters have never even seen it. Do think you’ll ever try for it?”

Looking  down at his phone, Dan saw he had a new message. A smile spread across  his face. “I don’t think so. But if I do come across it again, I’ll do  my best.”

With that, Dan made his way towards the door. “I gotta  go. Nice talking to you.” He said as he walked out and headed towards his truck.

————————————————

Dan bobbed his head to the music coming out of his radio, as he drove through town.

He  nodded his head to fellow hunters he’d pass and wave to a few people he  knew. The town wasn’t big, probably around five thousand but part of a  larger metropolitan. While other larger towns drew in bigger bounties,  Dan preferred the smaller ones. It was easier to track his targets in  more rural areas and he liked the community feel of the area.

Pulling  up to a small building, Dan parked and exited his truck. Wiping his  hands on his jeans, he nodded at a couple of people near the door before  entering.

“Hey, Dan.”

Dan’s smile widened. “Hey, Arin.” He said, walking over to the desk his friend was sitting at.

Arin stood up and pulled him into a hug. “Good to see, ya. It’s been a while. Have a seat.”

Dan  sat in the offered chair, crossing his arms on the desk. “Yeah. I’ve  kinda been on a string of hunts. Sorry I haven’t been by more often.”

Arin shrugged, his smile fading a bit. “It’s fine. I know your job can get…hetic. Just glad to see you.”

Turning back to his computer, Arin began to type. “So, how many did you get this time?” He asked in a fairly neutral tone.

Dan  let a sigh. Even though he asked, Dan knew that Arin didn’t really want  to know. That was the only “problem” with his friendship with Arin.  Arin wasn’t too supportive of Dan’s job, believing that hunting and  capturing werewolves was wrong.

He’d tried to explain his  reasoning, what happened to his sister and that werewolves were no  longer human but Arin wouldn’t listen, believing Dan to be mistaken.  That werewolves did retain their humanity, some more than others but  they’ve never been given the chance to prove it. Dan tried to question  him further. Arin seemed to know more than he let on but Arin never said  anything more, leaving Dan confused at his stance.

“Only three this time.” Dan said, answering Arin’s question. “Thinking about trying for the big one.” Arin raised an eyebrow.

“Who? The ninja?” He asked with disbelief. Dan nodded.

“Yeah.  The bounty is huge and I’ve already come across it twice. Maybe if I’m  actively hunting, I’ll have a better shot at catching it.”

Arin looked away. “If you say so.”

The silence stretched between them, until Dan broke it.

“Have you heard from bri/an, lately?”

Arin’s lips spread into a knowing smile. “Miss him?”

“N-no! Just wondering.” Dan sputtered, trying to cover up his reddening face.

“Uh huh. Sure.” Arin said with a laugh.

Dan  fidgeted in his seat. He guessed it wasn’t really a secret. His crush on one of Arin’s friends was kind of obvious. Dan couldn’t help it,  though. There was just something about bri/an.

He was older than  Dan by four years and regularly traveled the world. He was an activist  and a scientist. Not only that, he was a talented musician and he and  Dan had teamed up a few times, with an impromptu band and had some  success. Dan wouldn’t mind starting a real band with bri/an as his  partner but with their current paths, he didn’t see that ever happening.

“Actually-”  Arin began, pulling Dan out of his thoughts. “He’s coming to visit  tomorrow.” He then leaned over and nudged Dan in the side. “I’m sure  he’d love to see you.”

Dan ducked his head, feeling his blush  darkening. Arin could be such a turd but Dan would be lying if he said  he wasn’t excited to see bri/an again.

He was definitely looking forward to it.