#Team Phantom is panicking

[ladydisasterinthemaking]

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Danny couldn’t believe it. He graduated high school with better grades than he imagined. Everything was also falling into place. His parents had accepted him as a halfa, and nothing bad has happened for almost a year now.

Well, he graduated, yes, but his grades weren’t on his sister’s level. Still, it was something he was proud of. Between making sure that Amity Park is safe from ghosts, going to Clockwork every now and then, and making sure he doesn’t fail at any of his classes, the road to a diploma was a hard one. (Although for some reason, the number of ghost attacks had gradually decreased until his usual rogues stopped attacking. They still visit Amity Park, but only to talk, hang out, or spar with him. It was strange at first, but he eventually got used to it.)

And now, in a few weeks, he is officially moving to Metropolis for college to become an engineer. It wasn’t what his younger self wanted, what with wanting to be an astronaut (not that he could be one, after what happened to him in the lab), but it was something more than what he thought he could ever accomplish.

(The deal-breaker was his parent's promise to protect Amity Park. He would have stayed and enrolled at Amity Community College, but his parents told him to live his life to the fullest.)

To celebrate their milestones together, Danny, Sam, and Tucker, together with Jazz as their chaperone for the summer, have decided to go wander around Metropolis and its neighboring cities as 'tourists' (Tucker and Sam had decided to go to Metropolis University, too, with the former studying Computer Science while the latter would take Journalism), partly because they will spend the rest of their college years in the city, and partly because compared to the other cities, Metropolis was safer because of Superman.

That means they can go anywhere and not fight.

'Not my circus, not my monkeys', as the saying goes.

Then Lex Luthor and Superman decided to duke it out in front of the Daily Planet, while the four of them were caught in a bank robbery.

The large LED TV inside the bank showcased the man of steel fighting the billionaire genius as the robbers scare everyone into submission with their guns.

The four of them looked at the LED TV, then at the robbers, and came to a decision.

-

Superman was in the middle of fighting Luthor when he heard the cries of various civilians, and a couple of criminals demanding a bank to let them in their vaults.

Then he heard gunshots.

Fearing for the worst, he quickly defeated Lex, told the cops to ship him back to prison, and flew to the bank, just to see a floating white-haired meta and a teenage girl conjuring plants tying up and freezing the robbers. In the corner was another boy typing on a PDA, and a red-headed girl comforting the other people in the bank.

The four people in question froze upon noticing Superman.

Two large vines immediately snatched the redhead and the other boy, while the white-haired meta phased them down the bank's floor.

So much for the saying, 'Not my circus, not my monkeys'. 

 - 

(This is terribly written. I haven’t done my research. Sorry for the quality of this short fic.)

[bet-on-me-13]

Thats not Fair!?

So! Danny is a Member of the JLA. He is a Millenia Old Ghost who is stuck looking the same as the day he died, so he never aged over all those Centuries. While the JLA is slightly uncomfortable at him being on the Team, they know his circumstances and try to ignore his appearance. He can't control it, its not his Fault.

Or at least, that's what he tells them.

Danny is in fact, a 15 Yr Old Kid, who used his experience as a Time Traveler to trick the JLA into letting him join the Adult Team. He is actually doing a good job in tricking them!

Then, in a complete accident, he runs into Jazz while talking to a few fellow Leaguers.

She showers him in older sister love, hugging him and giving him Nuggies, and when a Leaguer asks how old she is she says "Oh I'm 17, 2 whole years older than this little scamp!"

So there goes that lie.

Fortunately, the League decides to let Danny stay on the Adult Team.

Unfortunately, Young Justice learned about his admittance to the Adult Team and kind of lost it.

"What?! Why is HE allowed on the Adult Team!? He's only been a Hero for a Year! We've all been Heroes for so much longer!?! And for that matter why is Shazam still on the Team!? Is that the new Rule? If you can trick us into letting you in the Team you can stay? Cause we can do that! We can sneak our way in too!"

Basically I want to imagine YJ's reaction to 2 Child Heroes on the Adult Team when they are stuck on the "Baby Team"

I think it would be funny.

[oldblog-batsyheere]

I keep imagining this one scene- usually its Jason or Tim or Damian, or all the Batboys or the Batfam sitting there with cultists or the league trying to summon the ghost king- but put it as just Dick who is a little surprised that he passed the requirement of having died so he can be used to summon this eldritch being that rules the dead.

And when he's bound, placed in front of a Lazarus pit and everyone is still trying to reach him, the being is summoned- and Danny just lurches through the pit hacking and spitting and cursing because this ectoplasm is nasty, what have you people been doing to it?

And the cultists are expecting Pariah Dark. They demand he takes them to the real ghost king. And Dick just has to watch this being with snow white hair and glowing green eyes start to float up and take this sheen of other to him as he goes "yeah no".

And Dick is maybe a little drugged, and has a concussion, but he feels he has an excuse for what comes out of his mouth.

"Nightwing, come in. What's going on?"

"B, I think I found your next kid. I'm gonna marry him. Even if he climbed out of a Lazarus pit and looks a little spooky."

"-what?!"

[half-deadmagicperson]

Phic Phight '24 Fic 1

Title: Like a Glow Stick

Words: 1252

Warnings: Injury, Panic Attack

Rating: T

Prompt 1 by @46-reasonable-hamsters : Danny breaks a bone in ghost form for the first time, and discovers that his bones function similarly to glow sticks.

Prompt 2 by @underforeversgrace : Jack Fenton finds out.

Summary: Danny breaks his arm in battle. Jack was not expecting what he saw in his son's room.

AO3

 

  Danny landed on the ground with an ungodly crunch. Pain flourished in his arm, which was crushed by the weight of the rest of him. He was in the middle of a brawl with Skulker and was thrown too quickly to break the fall correctly. Danny groaned. He’ll have to deal with his arm later, for now, he has a hunter to soup.

  Skulker drew closer to his prey. When Danny went to prop himself up, a sharp pain overwhelmed his forearm. Oh yeah, that’s definitely broken. The ghost boy opted to use his powers to float him off the ground. After he met Skulker in the air, the fight progressed until Danny finally wore Skulker down enough to use the Fenton Thermos. The hunter disappeared into the container with a bright blue light, and Danny was proud of himself for defeating the ghost single-handedly (haha get it, cause his arm is broken). 

  After the battle was over, Danny flew invisibly into his bedroom window. Landing on his bed, he immediately started tugging off his glove. He decided it was best to stay in ghost form since most of his injuries healed faster that way. Crouching down, he used his good arm to grab his medkit that Sam had bought for him. He hasn’t broken a bone since he fell off the monkey bars in kindergarten, so he’s not exactly sure if he can treat it properly.

  He placed the medkit on his bed. Gently, he started peeling off his glove. Danny looked down and noticed a faint glowing from the section of exposed skin. He arched his brow. Taking off the rest of his glove he saw glowing outlines of his bones. He rolled up his sleeve to see that the glowing grew fainter the further away it was from the break. In his painful and distracted state, Danny did not register the jiggle of his door knob, until a slight crack of light from the hallway appeared in his room, followed by his father’s face.

~~~~~~~~~

   Jack Fenton was sitting in the living room with his wife. It was a little past dinner. Jazz and Danny were both doing homework in their rooms while he and Maddie watched TV. After a while, Jack felt his bladder calling for relief. He begrudgingly got off the couch and began his hike upstairs.

  On his way towards the bathroom, Jack heard a rustling from Danny’s room. The large man paused at the door and wondered if he should check on his boy. Having grown up in a loud home with little care for privacy, understanding alone time and giving people space was harder for Jack. When Danny first started spending more time in his room, Maddie had told him that when most teenagers get to this age they require a bit of space. Jazz did too, but Danny even more so. 

  Jack heard a soft ‘shit’ followed by a loud seething sound. Maybe he should check on his boy. The man jiggled the doorknob to announce his presence. With the lack of protest, he popped his head into Danny’s room.

  Phantom, GIW Enemy Number 1, was sitting on his son’s bed with pieces of a medkit laid out across Danny’s comforter. The ghost appeared to be too distracted by what it was doing to notice him. Jack’s gung ho attitude was squashed by his curiosity as he watched the ghost examine its arm. One of the bones, Jack thinks it's called the ulna (Maddie was more the biology person), glowed a bright green through the ghost’s skin, aside from a crack in the middle of it. The other forearm bone gave off a faint glow as well. Did Phantom break its arm?

 Jack accidentally bumped the door, causing the ghost’s head to whip around. Bright green eyes were wide with fear. The normally snarky, bold ghost was silent and looked on the verge of panicking. For a brief second, Jack started to question everything he ever knew about ghosts. Then he realized that this one had just been caught in his son’s room. The man’s expression soured as he spoke.

  “What are you doing here? And where is my son?” The ghost scrambled towards the head of the bed, medical supplies falling onto the floor.

  “I’m sorry! He wasn’t in here when I got here I swear! I was borrowing his medkit! Please don’t kill me!” The ghost began to plead rapidly, panic rising in its voice. Jack clearly caught the ghost off guard. Amidst his confusion, he barely processed Phantom’s hasty escape through Danny’s exterior wall.

  “Hey, wait, get back here, Spooks!”

  “Dad?” a voice called out from behind him. Jack turned around to see his son standing in the doorway.

  “What are you doing in my room?” Jack shook himself out of his thoughts.

  “There was a sneaky specter in your room. Don’t worry I chased it out.” Danny’s eyes rolled.

  “Yeah, sure, Dad. I’m gonna go back to doing homework.”

  Jack watched as his son awkwardly walked into his room and picked up the supplies on his floor. Why did Danny have such an extensive medkit anyways? Oddly, his son was only using one hand to grab everything while his other arm stayed at his side. Whenever Danny needed to reach under his bed, he lowered himself using the hand he was grabbing with. Jack noticed him position his other arm and his subtle winces. Man, he should shut up more often. Jack’s brows knit with concern.

  “Are you okay, son?” Danny’s head whipped towards the door. His face flashed with a similar panic that was eerily similar to the ghost from before.

  “Oh, yeah I’m fine! I, uh, didn’t realize you were still here,” Danny stammered. Jack knelt down next to his son. The raw fear returned to his face. Why was his son afraid of him?

  “Danny, let me see your arm.”

  “No! I mean, I promise it’s fine! It’s…it’s…” Jack gently moved Danny’s arm to look at it. His forearm was bruised with dark purple and swollen. Danny barely concealed his flinch as Jack cautiously moved to get a closer look.

  “Danno, I think this is broken. We should take you to the doctor.”

  “NO!” Danny flung away from his father before falling flat on the floor with a yelp of pain. Jack quickly went to help his son, but met the sting of a force field. A bright green bubble surrounded Jack’s terrified son. 

  “Danny?” Jack cursed under his breath. There must be a ghost in here, but looking around Jack didn’t see anything strange. He didn’t even feel the characteristic temperature drop. It was just him and Danny in the room. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

 “Son, I’m not sure what is going on, but I want to help you.” Danny shook like a leaf and fought down a sob.

 “Danny, I promise I won't hurt you. I just want to understand what is going on. I'm worried about you,” Jack sighed before looking at the floor, “I know I'm not the greatest at listening, or picking up on social cues, but you're my son, and I care about you more than whatever this is.”

  Danny's breathing started to slow back down. The green dome fizzled out, and Jack hugged his son.

  “Dad, I have something to tell you.”

  

~~~~~~~~

  That was the day that Jack Fenton, boisterous ghost hunter extraordinaire, learned about the adventures of his son, the half-ghost hero, Danny Phantom.

[darkmodepls]

All the spectral interference is wreaking havoc on the Bats' tracking abilities.

Who knows how long it will take them to figure out the issue, let alone fix it.

Good thing Danny has already clocked Damian as someone to keep an eye on.

Damian Wayne is lost.

An impressive achievement, considering Mother and Grandfather had ensured his thorough education in geography, amongst other subjects.

He’d memorized the cities of Grandfather’s earlier days. He’d even memorized every random small town in Ohio. Damian knew that he had memorized every town in Minnesota just in case he was abandoned there for some reason (a fear that Dick Grayson had long put to rest).

Damian Wayne had never heard of an Amity Park.

“Tt.” He clicked his tongue, quietly glad he was clad in his vigilante armor instead of the banal uniforms of the civilian school he attended. Damian Wayne- Robin- sighed and tossed a line up, zipping to the roof of the building no time.

He tried his communicator.

“Da- bzzzt-! Get you- bzzzt!- wait! Don’t- bzzzzzzzt!- might be long s-bzzzzzzzzzt-!”

Damian tapped at his communicator. “Understood,” he grumbled, with no small sigh of relief. The communicators he used were directly connected to Father’s Watchtower- pardon, the Justice League’s Watchtower… that Father paid for- and reached all around the world.

With a few exceptions that Damian immediately ruled out, it meant that he was in a different dimension. The Robin grumbled, and pulled out a card his Mother had gifted to him. Inter-dimensional displacement was accounted for by his Mother, the daughter of a near immortal evil magician, and the card that could steal local money from anything hackable was the result.

“I might as well enjoy the vacation.”

Damian zipped down, ignoring the strange looks he got from the locals. He walked around to find a vegan place and found one, standing behind a goth girl who was teasing a bespectacled teen.

When he got to the counter, Damian swiped the card after having placed his order. He wasn’t, however, prepared to be accosted a glowing green- irritatingly, traumatizingly close to Lazarus waters- being that looked like a mad scientist.

“TRYING TO HACK-“

A white glove clad fist slammed into the being’s face.

“Oh my god, leave the kid alone, Technus!”

Damian pivoted, sword drawn.

A… floating green being that looked like a teenager grinned at him before opening a thermos.

“Soup time!”

Damian clicked his tongue as the “Technus” was sucked into the thermos. This cape reminded him of John.

“Irritating,” he muttered.

“Hey, kid! Are you okay? What's your name?"

“Robin.” Damian replied begrudgingly. Dick had impressed on him the importance of replying politely and Damian applied the concept in this situation.

“I’m Phantom!”

Ugh, even the grin was annoying. It reminded him of John.

“Apt.”

"You're a mean little kid aren't you?" Phantom grinned. "What's up with the sword?"

"Quiet, plebian. I am ordering my food." Damian turned and completed the transaction.

[thevoidstaredback]

Barry knew something was wrong when he woke up that morning, but he couldn't place what. There was nothing wrong in the house, nor with his family. His team were as normal as they could be, and none of his rogues had gotten out, nor was anyone causing any trouble in Central City. Then, just as he'd gotten off work at the police station, an emergency meeting for the Justice League was called. Ugh, David's gonna be pissed that he has to call out again!

The Watchtower, when he got there, was a mess. Heroes were obviously panicking, and there must be magic users on board because there were things flying every which way. The meeting room, however, was somehow worse.

"What the hell is going on?" The Flash demanded after ducking behind a chair.

"Constantine and Deadman are on a warpath!" Aquaman helpfully supplied from where he was hidden behind his own chair.

"I gathered that much," Flash shouted over the noise of a chair being shattered against the wall behind him.

Aquaman scowled at him. "The hell do you want me to say? I don't know what's got them so upset!

The door opened again, announcing Batman's presence. He cleared his throat and the room instantly fell silent. Things kept flying around, but they were much more lax than they had been. Cautiously, the gathered heroes emerged from their makeshift hiding places to sit in their chairs.

"What's this about, Constantine?" the Dark Knight asked once everyone was seated.

Instead of the Brit, the ghost beside him was the one to answer. "You idiots-" he growled, "-have really fucked up this time!" he shouted.

Flash idly noticed that only the heroes operating in America were present. Huh. He had a dream just like this last night!

Or was it the night before?

"Slow down," Wonder Woman said. The Flash quietly joined her for her next line, "What's going on?"

The Flash continued to speak with Constantine, his voice quiet and simultaneous with the magic user's, "The US Government are more aware than any of us-" Flash's voice got louder as he spoke with the occultist. Aquaman side-eyed him. "-are comfortable with. The fact that they hid it 'til now is baffling."

"Flash?" Aquaman muttered to him, "Are you okay?"

Flash shook his head and continued speaking in tandem with Deadman, his eyes going wide. "It's been brought to my attention that your government has been targeting my people." The ghost was now looking at Flash, too.

Flash finished for him, "They've taken a child."

Ulike his dream, the room was silent. Everyone's eyes were on The Flash.

"Flash?" Superman asked, "What's going on?"

"Time Loop."

Several tense seconds that Flash knew they couldn't afford to waste passed. Batman said, "Time loop?"

Flash nodded. "Time Loop."

"What do you know?" Wonder Woman asked.

"The government took a child. We need to get to Amity Park, Illinois and get a handle on the-" he looked to Deadman, "-ghosts?" When Deadman nodded, he continued, "Ghosts and see if we can get any information out of them."

Zatanna entered the room then, just as Barry remembered she would, turning the projector on and joining Constantine and Deadman at the front of the room. She didn't start speaking, though. Instead, it was Constantine.

"Phantom's a small time hero in Amity Park. For a while, he was the only thing standing between an interdimensional war." He looked The Flash in the eye, "How many loops is this?"

If Zatanna was surprised about the whole time loop revelation, she hid it well.

Flash shook his head. "Two, I think."

Batman took over the conversation from there, Robin at his side, probably communicating with his own team. "Flash and Superman, you need to check everywhere for Phantom; keep your comms on and open. Zatanna, Constantine, and Deadman, I want all the information you have yesterday. Everyone else, set up a perimeter ten miles out from Amity Park-"

Deadman froze, just as Barry knew he would, and disappeared. Zatanna's and Constantine's phones both started ringing. Then, the alarm started to blare.

"Robin," Batman continued through the noise of the heroes jumping into action, "What do you have for me?"

"Amity Park, Illinois," the young vigilante stated, reading the information off of his wrist computer's holo-screen and relaying it as quickly and coherently as he could, "It boasts to be the most haunted place in America. It's a hot spot for ghost hunters, though other supernatural 'experts' frequent there. Other than that, there's a firewall completely blocking off information coming out of the town. I don't think it's a stretch to say that there's limited, or at least filtered, information going into the town."

"Hm." Batman tapped his comm, "Cyborg, get me all the information about this town as you can."

"Got it."

"Robin,"

"On it, B."

"Hn."

***

Barbra was having a pretty normal day. She'd had a pretty good day at school, finished all her homework, and had even gotten to spend some time with her dad! Then, just as she was ready to go out as Batgirl, Batman called her.

Normally, Batman calling her isn't a cause for alarm. However, she knew for a fact that he was with the Justice League today. It was why she was getting ready to go out so early!

Ghosts, as it turns out, are elusive. Whether it's purposeful or not, it doesn't matter. What does matter is why the hell Batman, who hates dealing with anything supernatural, needs her to find information on ghosts of all beings!

She really wants to know what goes on in that man's head.

Actually, no, she really doesn't.

"Hey, Dickie," she greeted.

"Hey, Barbie," there was a smile in his voice, "What's up?"

Right the the chase. "B's acting weird."

A goran. "What'd he do this time?"

The hostility when talking about Bruce was not lost to her. "He's got me looking into ghosts. Any idea why?"

"Ghosts? He's with the JL today. Wally said there was an emergency meeting called about an hour ago."

"That's what I thought! But he just called and has me looking into ghosts. You think there's a correlation there?"

A sigh. "Most likely. Why doesn't he just ask the JLD? You've got more important things to be doing than doing research for him."

"Aw," she cooed exaggeratedly, "You do care!" She could practically hear his eyes rolling on the other end of the line. "Anyay, while I've got you here, are you gonna be coming to Gotham any time soon? I haven't seen you in a while."

Dick was quiet for a moment, the small chime of an incoming call making him groan in frustration. "Probably a lot sooner than I would like."

"Oh?"

"Bruce's calling. I'll let ya know what he says."

"Got it. Good luck, D."

"I'll need it." he scoffed, hanging up.

What a mess.

Part 6 Part 8

[runfromthemedic]

Danny Phantom adopts more kids than Bruce Wayne

I’ve seen a lot of fics going around about how Danny will get summoned as the Ghost King via cultist and dpxdc fics going around and I had an idea.

So Danny (ages 14-16 ish depending) gets summoned a lot, and in those summoning's there is usually a sacrifice. Normally, if the sacrifices are kidnapped adults and the like Danny beats up the cultist and just lets the sacrifices go.

But what happens when the sacrifices are younger?

A literal child gets offered up, a soul contract binding them to Danny (probably as a slave or food or whatever, I just think like John Constantine’s contracts but without the con). Danny still beats up the cultist but now he has a kid with a soul contract that he can’t break without severe backlash happening to the kid and there already pretty hurt form the cultist.

Panicking and worried about the kid, Danny seals the contract but with some adjustments, so now for all intent and purposes he now has a kid. 

Danny takes the kid back to the Far Frozen for Frostbite to heal, constantly sending calming emotions to his new kid while panic texting Sam and Tucker they had a kid now and spamming Jazz with questions on how to parent.

Many freak-outs and logistic family meetings later and they’ve worked out a relatively (more like half-way) decent plan for parenting. The kid is very happy with the new and loving parents and auntie and things calm down as much as things can with three liminal teenagers, a half-dead one, and a elementary schooler can between parenting, going to school, ghost king duties, and hiding all of this from Jack and Maddie. 

Danny cries the first time the tot called him Dad. Sam and Tucker record this for blackmail. Danny gets even when Sam and Tucker breakout the waterworks when they get called Mom and Pops.

And then a few months later another summoning happens, this time with a 17 year old. They get adopted.

Five months after that, another summoning, this time with two 12 year old's. They get adopted.

Thirteen months after that, another summoning. The kids 15. Adopted.

Two months after that, summoning and there’s three of them. All adopted.

By the time Danny, Sam, and Tucker are about to hit college age they have thirteen kids give or take.  All of them call the Trio Dad, Mom, and Pops. Doesn’t matter if some of the kids are older. Team Phantom are the best parents most of them have ever had. Age is blatantly ignored in most situations. Dani is considered the oldest. The first adopted kid is considered the second oldest, etc.

Danny’s castle in the Infinite Realms has a room for all of this kids and portals going out into different dimensions depending on where the summoning happened. The Trio didn’t want to completely uproot any of their kids lives so they make sure all of the kids have the right records, access to schooling, etc. 

Cue two of the kids (maybe three if you want John Constantine drunkenly auctioning off his at the time non-existent first born, accidents happen, the whole hodgepodge family has a understanding to punch Constantine on sight if they ever see him on their siblings/sons behalf) being from the DC universe.

Older of the two goes to Gotham U (I think studying communications, politics, philosophy etc to be able to help Danny with his Ghost Kind Duties) and the younger getting a scholarship to the fancy rich kid school Damian attends. 

Danny’s kids are about as liminal as they can get between the adoption contract, all of the ectoplasm exposure, and the kids all living in the Infinite Realms the majority of the time. Damian and the younger get along like a house on fire be cause they have similar interest based on life. I think the older sibling somehow befriends Tim Drake, Tim possible develops a crush.

Batman is very paranoid about the two possibly metas around his kids

[doctormead]

A twist on the summoning prompt

Ok, we've had many variations on Danny being summoned by cultists, villains, JLD, JL and bored kids at a slumber party, but what if DANNY tried to do a summons?

The scenario: Danny finds out that, once he hits 21 (let's say he's 16 when this little bombshell gets dropped on him), he's gonna be landed with the Kingship of the Infinite Realms. No, he can't get out of it. No, he can't abdicate to someone he thinks will do a good job. AND, if he can't hack it once he hits that age, the consequences will be...unpleasant to say the least.

Queue panicked questioning of various friendly Ancients who say they can't be his mentor for this (conflict of interest/inadequate scope for what he needs to learn/obscure excuse). Clockwork finally tells the desperate teen that, if he looks hard enough, he will find an appropriate mentor.

Well, Danny doesn't think he has time to search for such a mentor and taking out an advertisement in the IR's local newspaper equivalent may as well be painting a target on his back. But, he HAS been summoned a few times and thinks that two can play at this game.

So, with the help of Sam, Tucker and Jazz, he tries to come up with a summoning ritual for a mentor. The requirements are extensive but specific: non-hostile to Phantom (they initially thought about using "friendly to Phantom" but figured that would be too limiting given their situation), able to instruct in multiple forms of combat, able to instruct in strategy (small scale as well as large scale), able to instruct in management and politics (also on various scales) and, most importantly WILLING to be a mentor in such subjects.

The circle is cast and, when the smoke clears, a very startled Batman is standing in the center. Team Phantom didn't think they'd need to specify that the new mentor also be a ghost.

[lolottes]

The Waynes didn't read the "welcome to AMITY PARK" brochure :( Danny is disappointed with the bats before he even knows about it

DC x DP Prompt *7*

Robin was staring at the screen of the Bat-Computer, while his mind was trapped in the past.

Damian could still clearly remember growing up in the League. And he remembers that he never questioned Grandfather or Mother, except once.

He had been seven, almost eight, when he was training his stealth. And what would be better practice then to follow his mother around till she spots him.

But this day his mother seemed distracted, something that never happened. He followed her to Grandfathers study and listened.

"The boy is nothing but a hindrance to Damian. He fails to kill and has sympathy that's unbecoming for an al Ghul. If Danyal won't complete his next mission, you will dispose of him", Grandfather sounded annoyed, as if he didn't just spoke about killing his twin, about how their mother would have to kill her own flesh and blood.

He didn't wait for his mothers response, knowing that she wouldn't oppose the demon head. As fast as he could he searched for his other half, they needed an plan.

On their next mission Danyal died. It was tragic, but he had sacrificed himself to save the heir of the al Ghuls. At least that is what Damian reported to the League.

Danyal was on the run and for the next 19 month he was forbidden to leave any clues about his whereabouts for Damian.

At some point he would be able to find him again.

He had searched for Danyal, ever since he stared to life with father. But the little voice in the back of his head kept whispering about how Danyal probably died because of his injuries years ago and that father would see it as his fault that he lost another son.

But know he found one of his clues. An online post from someone with the username 'ghostboi', about a constellation and the story that he himself spun around it. A story only the two of them knew. Well... and a few hundred strangers now, but he would have to talk later with Danyal about that.

Now it was time to tell father about yet another son that mother kept secret from him, oh joy.

.

.

.

The talk had been going as good as anyone could expect, which meant that he and father now sat in an private jet, only two hours after they found out about Danyals whereabouts and three hours since Bruce Wayne knows about his second blood son.

They where going as Civilians, since it would probably go smoother. And because the Brucie Wayne persona seemed to gift his father the ability to talk a little bit easier about emotions. Except for right now, because he was angry at Damian for keeping his twin a secret. Still, Damian couldn't see how he could have handled this better and also stayed silent.

Quietly he goes over the things he found out about his brother.

He now goes by the name Daniel James Fenton

He lives in Amity Park, Illinois

He was adopted at the age of nine by the Fentons

He goes to the local high school

He has an older sister, Jasmine Fenton, who is in college for psychology

His parents are ecto-scientist

He has two friend with the names of Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson

It wasn't a lot, but he didn't have much time and also not the patience to wait any longer. It had been almost nine years since he last seen his other half and even if he was nervous, he just couldn't bear to wait any longer.

After they landed in an airport in the city nearest to Amity Park, the two immediately got into the back of a car and their journey continues.

For a long time it was silent in the car, till Damian couldn't bear his father's brooding anymore.

"I didn't know if he had survived and I deemed it better for everyone involved if I'm the only one with this particular uncertainty and possible grief", even if his own voice was leveled and his father just responded with a grunt, the air in the car seemed now easier to breathe.

~

Yes, Bruce had been livid and heartbroken when Damian had told him about his youngest, but he could understand to some degree where the boy was coming from. And if the situation wouldn't be so heartbreaking, then he could be able to call it sweet of his son. He just didn't want him to hurt, but even so... now it was to late to think about the what if's, in a few minutes he would have Daniel in his sight.

They stopped in front of a house that was a clear violation of every OSHA law he could think of. But the big "FENTON WORK' sign, told him that they were right.

Bruce put on a light smile, before he knocked on the door, Damian on his left side. From inside he heard a little bit of shuffling and a carbon copy of Damian opened the door. Everything except for the eyes were the same.

But before Bruce could say anything, the twins were already in each other's arms. He could hear quiet sniffling.

"You found me, your safe", the words came like a mantra out of Daniels mouth.

"Ahbak, Danyal", was the whispered answer from Damian.

And Bruce felt like an intruder in this moment. He had never seen his son so openly affectionate and it was like a weight had lifted of Damians shoulders.

It took a few minutes till the two brothers let go of each other. Except for their hands, that stayed clasps with each other.

"Hello Daniel, I'm Bruce Wayne. I'm yours and Damians father", he introduced himself with a smile, even though the boy seemed to shrink a little bit into himself.

"Please call me Danny Mr. Wayne. Just Fruitloops call me Daniel", his son gave him a crooked smile and Bruce nodded.

"Of course, but call me Bruce", he answered easygoing.

"Is there a place where we can talk Danyal?", Damian got the attention of his twin with a little tuck on his hand.

"You can come inside. Mom and Dad are out of town to get a few supplies for a new project", his answer was sheepish, as he lead them inside.

It seemed like he had adjusted well to an civilian life. How he wished he could have seen his growth.

They sit down in the living room and start to talk a bit about Danny's life with the Fentons. It's apparent for both him and Damian, that Danny is hiding something from them, but they don't press. Maybe he'll tells Damian, when they have a moment alone.

"Should I help you to pack your possessions now? I'm sure the Fentons won't need to long to come back, so that you can say goodbye", as Damian was speaking, he stood up and looked at a bewildered Danny. But Bruce wasn't really better. As much as he would love to bring Danny home with them, they couldn't just rip him out of his life. And Danny seems to see it just like him.

"Dami... I'm not leaving. I love my parents and my friends, I can't just go and leave them", Danny also stood up and clasped his hands on Damians shoulders.

"Tt... so you choose them over me?", his voice was bearly over a whisper.

"No! I-... it's just... give me time? I'm almost done with high school and I want to go Gotham U, so... just wait a bit? Please?", his tone was pleading, as he searched his brothers eyes, whom just answered with a defeated sight.

"Danny is right Damian. We can't just uproot him like that. As much as I want us all together, we found him now, the rest can wait", Damian deflated a little more at his words. And so Bruce couldn't just let the opportunity pass to comfort his children for once.

He closed the small distance between them and hugged both of the boys lightly to himself.

"You know that I always wanted to raise you myself and now that I see you both like that, I wish for it even more", he sighted with a woeful smile, while Damian grumbled about the proximity. But Danny's little smile shifted to a horrified look.

"Your wish is my command~", the feminine voice came out of thin air, but Bruce had no time to think about it. Because just a second later, there were two little Babies in his arms. Two little, screaming Babies.

Bruce never regretted it so much in his life, that he hadn't brought Alfred along.

[puppetmaster13u]

Which Fic Should I work on

(All DP Crossovers & lil information blurbs below the poll)

Down in the Deep- A Danny Phantom & Pressure crossover with lil baby (snek) man Danny and a panicking guess-Im-Dad-Now Sebastian (big snek man) Solace. Over 18849meters below sea level. [Art and AO3 link can be found under the tag #Down in the Deep Au]

Brothers, Dear Brother- A Danny Phantom & DC crossover where Danny is reincarnated as a superwonder clone, and him (and Match) are living on the streets trying to figure things out. [You can find the thread(s) and AO3 link under the tag #Clone Danny]

Crashing In- A Danny Phantom, DC, & Flight Rising crossover where a two-headed dragon Jason comes home to a few hatchlings somehow in his safehouse. Who weren't always hatchlings- not that he knows that. [Some things may be found under #DPxDCxFR or #Dad Hood]

Delving in the Deep- A Danny Phantom, DC, Pressure, & Dredge crossover with eldritch merfolk-esque ghosts, alongside the GIW and Urbanshade temporarily teaming up. And a hint of body horror. [No tag rn, but posts/links will be under #Delving in the Deep Au]

[tencitizens]

The Dead of Knight

a dpxdc fic by @tencitizens and @afathomedinsmoni for @patrol-partners-batphandom

Chapters: 2/15

Summary:

“You’re…” he trailed off, trying to make sense of the intrinsic knowledge that warred with all of his training. “You aren’t human.”

Eyes, bright green, seemed to dig into his very being. “Are you?” the boy asked in a mere whisper, an echo of surety immediately knocking Jason off balance.

Or: Danny gets dimensionally yeeted and leaves Team Phantom panicking in his wake. Meanwhile, Jason’s pit rage was under control—until something showed up in his Alley that calmed it. And now there’s a shit ton of League assassins in town. What the hell, Talia?

Fandom: Danny Phantom x Batman (All Media Types)

Rating: T

Pairings: Danny Phantom/Jason Todd, eventual Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake/Wesley "Wes" Weston, Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton

Ch. 1 TWs: mild bleeding, mild panic/disassociation

Ch. 2 TWs: medical malpractice, PTSD flashbacks, medical abuse, minor gore, and minor use of dehumanizing language

[petite-phthora]

Do you think it was a date?

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 5]

<< Prev | Next >>

Part 1

Ao3

---

In-chat nicknames:

Daniel = Danny

Sharpshooter = Jazz

TooFine= Tucker

Chaos = Sam

TheCoolerDaniel = Danielle/Dani/Ellie

---

Private chat nicknames:

Bill = Danny

Pants = Jazz

---

As soon as Danny enters his apartment, face bright red, he takes his head into his hands and lets out a silent scream.

He could have said anything, and he panicked and went with Toodealoo Kangaroo???

At this rate, he’ll never get a partner.

As Danny stands there in misery, his phone starts buzzing with messages. Curious, he checks his phone to see what going on.

Uh oh.

---

Team Phantom 👻😎

Chaos: Guys check this out

Chaos: *link*

Chaos: The Joker escaped from Arkham again, but no one’s heard anything of him since, nor have they been able to find him

TooFine: @Daniel 👀

TooFine: ok the @ had been a joke but the fact that he has read it and not replied is concerning

Sharpshooter: @Daniel, what did you do?

Sharpshooter: @Daniel

Sharpshooter: I can see that you’re reading this, don’t ignore me.

TooFine: ohhhh someones in troubleee 👀

Sharpshooter: Tucker.

TooFine: 🤐

---

Danny takes a deep breath.

Well, it’s now or never. Let’s hope Jazz is feeling merciful.

---

Private chat

Bill: ok so you know how you said you would still love me if I was a worm?

Pants: I have no clue how this ties into the previous conversation, but yes. Why?

Bill: hypothetically

Bill: would you also still love me if I

Bill: hypothetically

Bill: accidentally

Bill: vibe checked someone that tried to uh

Bill: hypothetically

Bill: kidnap and or kill me??

Bill: 🥺🥺🙏

Pants: Danny, did you accidentally kill the Joker?

Bill: yes or no Jazz??!? 😩🥺

Pants: Yes, Danny. I would still love you if you, hypothetically, accidentally killed the Joker.

Bill: this is why you’re my favorite sister 🥹🥰😘

Bill: don’t tell Ellie 😳🫣

Pants: Danny, what happened?

---

Danny lets out a sigh of relief before proceeding to tell Jazz what happened.

---

Pants: Oh Danny.

Bill: are you mad at me?

Pants: I’m not mad at you, I just want you to stay safe.

Pants: While I don’t condone murder, I understand that it was self-defense and an accident. I‘m just glad that you’re alright.

Bill: 🥰💞😘

---

With a small smile on his face, Danny goes back to the groupchat.

---

Team Phantom 👻😎

Daniel: you know

Daniel: if I had a nickel for every time I’ve had to fight off an insane clown that attacked me 🤡

Daniel: I’d have two nickels

Daniel: which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened twice, right? 🤔

Chaos: Damnit Danny, we leave you alone in a new city for a week and you already manage to get into a fight with one of Gotham City’s most infamous rogues

TooFine: actually its been 6 days 10 hours and 17 minutes

TooFine: so not even a full week yet

Chaos: Did you at least get a good few punches in?

Chaos: Danny?

TooFine: @Daniel ???

TooFine: if i had a nickel for every time danny said something concerning and then didnt provide context id be richer than vlad

Daniel: anyway, for completely unrelated reasons, @TooFine I need you to wipe some cams for me 😃

TooFine: danny im not wiping the cams again so no one will have proof of you tripping backward and falling ass-first into a trashcan

Chaos: Speaking of, Tucker do you still have that footage and can you send it to me?

TooFine: already done

Daniel: noo it’s nothing like that this time 😫

Daniel: pleaseeee 🥺🙏🙏

Daniel: I’ll get you an autograph from Tim Drake-Wayne?

TooFine: deal.

Daniel: 🥳🎉

Daniel: ok so the footage from somewhere around 3 am last night

Daniel: around some place named park row??

Daniel: I think it’s called?? 🤔

Daniel: though I’m pretty sure I’ve also heard some people refer to it as crime alley

Daniel: not sure why tho 🤷

TooTine: aye aye captain o7

Chaos: Danny, in an alley getting attacked by the fucking Joker: I wonder why this place is called crime alley

Daniel: stop bullying me 😠

Chaos: No

TooFine: hey danny r u sure thats right? i checked the cams n stuff but theres no available footage from the area n time u described

TooFine: its like someones already wiped it all

Daniel: oh!

Daniel: that’s so sweet of him  😊

Chaos: Wait who is this ‘him’?

TooFine: the joker????

Daniel: oh no not the Joker

Daniel: just some cute guy I met last night  

Daniel: he witnessed me killing the Joker 🫣

Daniel: and didn’t call the cops on me afterward 🥰💞

TooFine: def green flag

Chaos: Oh hell yeah, he’s a keeper

Chaos: Wait you killed the Joker?! I thought you just fought him off!

Daniel: it was an accident!! 😭😭

Daniel: he crept up on me and tried to grab me 😓

Daniel: so I got startled and because all I saw was a clown

Daniel: I just kinda punched his face in with my ghost strength… 😰

TooFine: f

Chaos: f

Sharpshooter: Have you gotten rid of the body yet? Did you leave behind DNA at the crime scene? Will I need to start saving up bail money or getting ready to enact the Fenton Break Out plan?

Chaos: Jazz asking the important questions here

Daniel: well, considering the footage was wiped

Daniel: and also the fact that no one’s found him yet

Daniel: I think it’s safe to assume it’s all taken care of

Daniel: that’s honestly really sweet of him though 🥰😊

TooFine: oohhhhh ur mystery boo??

Daniel: yeah, this random guy saw me vibe-checking the Joker

Daniel: and let me go home without any trouble

Daniel: pretty sure he’s the one who wiped the cams 🤔

Daniel: and then today he showed up at my apartment with flowers 🥺

Daniel: they were sweat peas!!!! 🥰🤩

Chaos: Was that to thank you for the murder orrrr?

Sharpshooter: Oh those are your favorite, was that on purpose?

Daniel: well I didn’t tell him

Daniel: so I’m not sure if he knew or if it was a coincidence 🤷

Daniel: but yeah then he took me out to this restaurant called Pete’s for dinner

Daniel: they had some amazing cannoli

Daniel: you should try it sometime if you get the chance

Daniel: and then after dinner he took me to the observatory!!!!!!! 🤩🥰

Sharpshooter: Gotham observatory?

Sharpshooter: Isn’t that the one with the special telescope, I think you mentioned it before

Daniel: yeah, the crystal-powered telescope!! 😍💞✨🤩❤️

Daniel: and at the end, he brought me home

Daniel: and he asked for my number!!!

TooFine: nice dude!

Chaos: The guy really went all-out and planned your dream date hu? So, what’s this mystery hunk’s name?

Daniel: oh I’m not sure, I didn’t ask 🙃🤭

Sharpshooter: Danny…

Daniel: yes?

Sharpshooter: Did you go on a date with a complete stranger who witnessed you commit a murder?

Chaos: How do you not even know his name?

Daniel: two words Jazz: Johnny 13

Daniel: and he’s not a stranger!! 😠

Sharpshooter: But you don’t know his name?

Chaos: We just can’t leave him alone, can we? Less than a week on his own and he already murdered one of Gotham’s most infamous rogues and then completely forgets the concept of Stranger Danger

Daniel: I mean he probably just found it when he tried to do some research on me or something

Daniel: probably got it from the school’s system now that I think of it 🤔

TooFine: dude who the hell is this guy??

Chaos: Who the fuck did you go on a date with?

Daniel: do you really think it was a date? 🥺😳

Daniel: I wasn’t sure

Daniel: cause he mainly took me out for dinner to thank me for the night before

Daniel: but then again

Daniel: he did get me flowers and ask for my number after he brought me back to my apartment 🤔

Daniel: like I wasn’t sure if I was reading the signals right…..

Daniel: but do you think that was a date? 🫣

Sharpshooter: Danny, for the love of the Ancients.

Sharpshooter: Who was it?

Daniel: oh, it was Red Hood 🥰

TooFine: damn dannys got that vigilante rizz

Sharpshooter: Red Hood? The crime lord?!

TooFine: former, actually

Daniel: what he said ^^

Chaos: Danny, you really have a type huh? Vigilantes with a Red theme. Who’s next? Red Robin?

Daniel: stop bullying me

TooFine: never

Chaos: Never

Daniel: on a different note, who changed my name in the chat again?

Sharpshooter: Ellie did.

Chaos: Ellie

TooFine: @TheCoolerDaniel

TheCoolerDaniel: 😎

TheCoolerDaniel: wait i just read back, danny’s dating a crime lord?? :0 👀

---

Taglist (for now, I’ll probably stop if I cant keep up):

@i-always-say-yea  @uraniumwizard

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Part 12

MASTAPOST

huge credit for their support and betaing to @brekitten

And credit to @adonneniel for sam’s last line :3

Tucker’s fingers flew over the keyboard as sweat rolled down his eyes. The cave was supposed to be cool and damp, but he felt as if placed under a heat lamp. Lines of code, addresses and file names filled the screen. New windows and notifications popped up faster than he could chase them down. The presence of his giant in the hacking world crept closer and closer. His chest cramped from heavy breaths. Sam was barely a few feet away, muttering an incantation, but the distance felt like miles. Each new line of code seemed to shift the walls of the cave inwards or outwards depending at random. He kept going. He couldn’t stop. Not with Danny out there and alone.

He always thought himself as good at hacking. Good with tech. The guy who could turn Skulker’s suit into puppetry. The guy who could out-hack fucking Technus. But maybe he was always just a small fish in a small pond. As the enemy hacker closed in on Tucker, each wave surrounding him, infiltrating like rats into a battered house of cards.

Tucker knew it was inevitable, but to see it happen was something else.

The enemy hacker got it. Got everything Tucker had ever stored on this laptop. His location, his destroying of evidence. His tampering with the sonars to ignore Danny. His attempt at erasing the video footage showing Danny sneaking off. Everything was in the hands of a stranger whose face Tucker would never see.

The only thing keeping him from fully breaking down was the comfort that the real incriminating data was safely locked away in his room, on a server that would brick itself if anyone other than Team Phantom tried to get in. That he made sure of, not just with tech, but with Sam’s spells.

It was cold comfort, though. Not a complete catastrophe, but still fucking awful.

Tucker sat back, watching glumly, helpless to do anything more. His deletion program ran in the background, destroying everything, but it was too late anyway.

Sam growled in frustration. “It’s not working. This stupid Mercator Projection map is fucking with the spell. I can’t tell if he’s in Hawaii or Mexico City.”

She crumpled up the cheap map they’d bought from the tourist shop and stomped on it with a thumping vengeance. They would’ve brought an entire globe, the bigger the better, but that would get them noticed, and flying under the radar was the whole point.

“Any luck?”

Tucker gestured to his computer, about to be bricked again. “This guy’s a monster. A monster. I’m like a tiny ant compared to him. Every time I make a move he’s made fifteen more.”

“There’s gotta be something else we can do. Come on, Tuck-”

Then the waterfall sprayed over the cove, revealing the Fenton Family SAV.

Shit.

He and Sam locked eyes in a second. Then they broke eye contact. They and Danny had gone over plans for what to do if certain things happened. If someone stole the files on his servers. If someone followed Danny without noticing. If someone found their cove.

Above all else, above everything else, don’t tell them about Danny. Don’t even hint towards it. Play dumb and obfuscate.

Tucker realised belatedly that they never got to practice all of those plans.

Mrs Fenton leapt off the bow, and marched like a woman possessed. Her eyes narrowed. Her shoulders squared up. Her jawline set.

Tucker felt like he was going to die.

“Where’s Danny?” Mrs Fenton all but ordered. “Where is he? Is it true? Is it true that that- that- that Phantom brainwashed all of you into helping him!? What did Phantom do to him?! What happened to my baby?!” Each question echoed louder, more panicked than the last.

What was the rulebook for this situation again?!

Tucker’s mouth dried. Every millisecond not responding put the fear of God into his heart. “Who the heck is Phantom?”

Mrs Fenton’s expression hardened further, if that was possible. Wrong thing to say, fuck.

Sam stepped in front of him, pose defiant, but arms shaking just enough for Tucker to notice. “That’s what we’ve been doing. We’ve been looking for Danny because the adults sure as fucking hell won’t.”

Looking for him, and Damian Wayne, but maybe bringing him up was going to be more trouble than it was worth, seeing as behind Mrs Fenton, Danny’s dad and holy shit was that Bruce Wane trailed up behind her. If it weren’t for the situation, Tucker felt like would’ve died anyway from meeting his idol.

Mr Wayne spoke up next. “I’m sorry we neglected the case of your friend, but you should’ve informed the authorities as soon as you suspected. How long have you known and not told anyone?”

Because telling people about Danny would land him on a VIP seat in the operating theatre! Because it was your freaking son he was trying to save?

Tucker couldn’t tell them that. What could he tell? He clenched his jaw like a vice, searching for a way out of this…

“You guys don’t get to tell us what to do.” Sam ground out. “We’ve been helping Phantom protect this freaking island from the sirens for months, with no help from any of you.”

Right! Good work Sam. Just a tiny hint of the truth and the real secrets stay hidden. Sam, he could kiss her right now (not that he’d ever want to).

Mrs Fenton raised her voice. “Samantha, we’ve been over this. Phantom isn’t a hero like Batman or Wonder Woman or Superman. He’s an inhuman monster staking claim over a territory. He’s tricking you kids!”

“Phantom’s saved us more than we could count! He’s risked his neck for this town.” Sam spat out, squaring up to Mrs Fenton on her steel-toed boots.

“He’s protecting his assets! If Phantom is such a protector, then why would he threaten the mayor, lead the invasion of town and work with Showenhower!?”

“It was all just a m-misunderstanding, Mrs Fenton, I swear!” Tucker said.

Mrs Fenton continued. “And now Danny’s gone. We know he’s been supplying Phantom with our inventions. Don’t you try and play dumb with us, young man. We’ve seen the footage of Danny sneaking out.”

Tucker’s blood ran thinner, and thinner. The cold sweat returned in full force.

Mr Wayne came between them, trying to put space between the two, without much success. “Please, if Phantom is hurting or threatening you in any way, it’s ok to tell us. We can keep you safe. We just need to know what happened to Danny.”

Sam gulped. Loud enough that even Tucker could hear it. It was at times like these Tucker wished Danny’s parents were as inattentive as they were made out to be by the public.

Their silence spoke volumes enough. Tucker wasn’t Batman, and neither was Sam. They didn’t have the chops to talk their way out of this, not enough Charisma to hit the DC checks, but they were also cornered here by the adults. One way or another, Tucker feared for Danny’s secrets.

Mr Fenton spoke up next, his voice uncharacteristically contemplative. “When I showed Danno the new security system and cameras in the lab and arsenal two weeks ago, it felt like he wasn’t as pumped up as I was. At first I thought it was nothing, but looking back it almost looked like fear.”

Well duh! You were showing him all the stuff you were gonna use to tear him into itty bitty pieces! Who wouldn’t be afraid for their life?!

Bruce Wayne crouched to their level, eyes soft like they were traumatized orphans that he was gonna adopt or something. “Did Phantom threaten Danny into giving him wea-”

“NO!” Tucker shouted instantly. A beat passed. His voice echoed through the cave. Shit. With the way the adults were looking at him, he might as well have said yes.

Sam pushed Mr Wayne away, or at least she tried to. The man barely budged, so she just stepped back from him. “Why do you care?! Already looking for another kid to replace the one you lost?”

The Fentons’ eyes widened, their faces in shock. Mr Wayne looked like he’d been punched through the gut and made into a donut. Ouch Sam, what the fuck?!

His voice lowered into a dark timbre, his expression steely cold. “I don’t want any more kids to get hurt. This Phantom needs to be stopped.”

Sam clutched his hand like a clamp. Tucker’s heart sank. What had they just done?

Please be alright, Danny, and Damian Wayne…

In an ocean far far away…

Damian sniffed the water as he clung to Danny’s shoulders again, his tail wrapped around the black and white boy’s waist. The kid had been doing that a lot lately, sniffing. Claimed it was to hone his senses.

“I believe I can smell Atlanteans nearby.” Damian said. Danny took the moment to verify his suspicions with his whole whiff.

“Yeah, looks it.” Danny said. He was a little suspicious though. Damian had refused to speak about what happened in the Atlantean outpost and how he got all this cool stuff. Surely he could’ve have fought them off, so he probably snuck around. Danny couldn’t imagine how terrifying that kind of thing would be. At least he knew his parents and what they were capable of when sneaking around the house and Amity. This kid was literally just some normal rich kid until all this happened.

“Why do you mention it?” Danny asked.

“I believe we it would be beneficial for us to partake in raid.”

Danny blinked.

A raid.

“You raided the Atlanteans and got this stuff. Like, legit raiding.” Danny said, dumbfounded.

“I met little resistance.”

Danny needed a moment to breathe here. His gills flexed open and closed.

“And now you want to raid another settlement. Why? We’re still good on food, and we even have veggies!”

Damian shook his head. “We need a map.”

Danny huffed, fins straightening. “We have a map literally up there!” he pointed up at the orange and purple sky over the sunset. The brightest stars were already beginning to show, with many more on the way.

“The Atlanteans likely keep maps of the local area, including human settlements and islands. There we can find further resources, and establish contact with the human world again.”

Huh. That was actually a pretty solid plan. His friends, sister (and maybe parents, if they noticed) were likely worried sick. A phone wouldn’t do them very well in the water, but even just a call letting them know they were ok would do wonders for their mental health.

That still left one teensy, tiny little issue, though.

“But how did you raid them the first time?!”

“It matters not.” Damian said, fins puffing up with pride. “All that matters is that with your skillset, such a mission will be as easy as breathing underwater.”

This kid was having way too much fun boasting of things no kid should’ve been able to accomplish. Then again, he showed some pretty insane marksmanship with the Wrist Ray the other day, so maybe he really did have the chops to back the ego up.

That acknowledgement did not stop Danny from pulling Damian to his chest, and administering a thorough nooggie, however.

[footnoteinhistory]

Time for my big NYC Marathon 2024 recap post!! This post is very long, roughly organized borough by borough, and mostly for my own personal record since I don't feel like putting pen to paper rn

And because so many of you have supported me through all of this (like... all of everything in my life for a long time), I thought maybe some of y'all would be interested. Here is my detailed experience (+ some photos!) <3

Got up Sunday morning at 4:30 am, on the Midtown bus to the start by 6 am. My start wasn't until almost 11 am but I was so anxious about logistics I was happy to get to the start village earlier and sit around bored rather than later and panicked. Fortunately my charity team had a heated tent where I killed three-ish hours by people watching, forcing myself to eat bagels w/ peanut butter and bananas and graham crackers until I couldn't stomach any more, and meeting Meb Keflezighi (!!!). I've read Meb's book twice this year and was too starstruck to say anything to him other than thank you but! What a neat surprise to start the day. A grizzled volunteer held out two water bottles and I took one, then he gave me this look and shook the other bottle at me until I took that one, too. He knew. Trust the volunteers.

I was battling serious nerves leading up to the start line, which I'll skip for brevity's sake bc this is going to be a long post anyway. But by the time we lined up on the Verrazzano Bridge (I was on the lower level), I felt good. Excited. The anthem, the helicopters, the cannon, Frank Sinatra, crossing the start.

As you might know bc I've agonized over it extensively on this blog, my training did not go according to plan this year. I hurt my left leg in April, possibly a fracture, and struggled throughout the summer. I wrestled with the idea of deferring. Finally I decided that I would finish the race, even if I had to walk the entire thing. After a few weeks of speed-walking and rebuilding my strength, I felt okay enough to put a little more pressure on my leg and jog occasionally. I hadn't *run* more than 2-3 consecutive miles since the spring. Literally took a photo of my leg in the starting village with the thought it might be the last time it ever looks normal in case my shin snapped in half in some horrific freak stress injury mid-race. Peak anxiety brain.

So starting slow on the Verrazzano's uphill, I was so anxious I would feel that familiar twinge in my leg. I've felt it for months. Sometimes I'm not sure it isn't a phantom pain now. But I didn't feel it that first mile. Or the second, leaving the Verrazzano and thinking "oh, this could be fun." Or the next mile, entering the first neighborhood. So I ran for the next 10 miles straight.

Brooklyn: The first half of the marathon goes through Brooklyn. It was such a fucking party the whole way. Our wave ran through some quieter streets and neighborhoods before hitting 4th Ave, but it was the perfect warm up. Everyone in the world and their mother tells you not to go out too fast in a marathon but it is IMPOSSIBLE not to—not only was I overjoyed to be running without pain for the first time in weeks, I was zooming around giving as many high-fives to the kids as I could.

I had my name pinned to my shorts and it was 100% the right decision. I've heard from runners who say it was too overstimulating or they had trouble locating friends and family when everyone was screaming their name, but I needed it. I'll get into that later, but even at the start it was such a boost. A woman on a highway overpass shouted "Hi Emily, welcome to Brooklyn!" The first kid I high-fived smacked my hand and said "LET'S GO EMILY"

The entirety of 4th Ave was incredible. I loved running through Brooklyn during the half in 2023 and I loved it this time. So many kids, funny signs, people offering tissues, live music, flags and banners. There were many Israeli and Palestinian flags throughout the course, which wasn't a surprise but still stirred up feelings. There was an older man standing alone with a Palestinian flag and we connected (I don't know how else to describe those fleeting interactions between runners and spectators but I had many; it's not quite a wave, sort of a nod, mostly eye contact, you just both know you're focused on each other for a moment). He yelled "stay strong, run for peace!"

Around Mile 8 at the Barclays Center I felt a cramp in my right calf. I assume this was a consequence of not having run more than eight miles for months before (better to go in undertrained than overtrained, they say, but perfect-amount-trained would've been great). That cramp stuck with me for quite while until every muscle was so cramped they were indistinguishable. But we will cross that unfortunately literal bridge when we come to it.

I managed to stretch it out, walk it off, and power on through until I met my family for the first time just before Mile 11. I liberally applied some Biofreeze to my calf and accidentally dropped my bag of SaltStick chews—a crucial error. Goodbye proper sodium intake for the second half of the race 😰

But I was still blissfully unaware of that mistake, running through the Orthodox Jewish neighborhoods and the rest of Brooklyn. Until I realized it on the Pulaski Bridge headed into...

Queens: If Brooklyn was a party, the two miles I spent in Queens were a brutal reality check. My calf cramp was not getting better, I was mad about losing my saltsticks, passing the halfway point was more intimidating than heartening. My half time was around 2:50, which is MUCH faster than I was expecting, but I knew I couldn't keep it up. I really do not remember Queens. There is a 25-minute gap in my camera roll from the Pulaski to the Queensboro. I recall it being loud, and I was a little overstimulated. I hadn't used headphones yet but put them in to check on the Bills game. We were losing, which did not help my mood.

Queensboro Bridge: I train in a hilly area, so I wasn't too scared when people spoke in hushed whispers about how difficult NYC's course elevation is. But the mood swings I experienced on this fucking bridge. First of all, it's never-ending. It goes up and up and up and up. I thought of Jareth, because they loved Simon & Garfunkel and The 59th Street Bridge Song is on the playlist they made that I listen to when I miss them. My calf was cramping in such a way that stretching could not reach, let alone fix. I started settling with myself—10 miles left, okay, I don't think I will be able to run again, I can walk the whole thing.

But then—we're going downhill again. I'm walking a little faster. We're taking the ramp off the bridge into Manhattan. I'm jogging. We're passing the 16-mile marker—from here on out, every step is the farthest I've ever run in my life. I'm running again. We turn onto roaring 1st Avenue!

Manhattan: 1st Avenue is very long. Everyone warns you about 5th Avenue, when you're close enough to the end you might fool yourself into thinking it's the home stretch—but no one (except Meb) warned me about 1st Ave, which feels uphill! Is it uphill?? It is also a 3.5-mile optical illusion. You look as far ahead as you can and that mass you see cannot be runners, that can't be where you're going, that is so far, the bridge to the Bronx must be closer than that. And yet.

My family also did not see me on 1st Ave as planned, which was kinda disappointing. They just didn't make it to the post we'd picked out ahead of time. I didn't want to be grumpy or ungrateful because they did travel all the way to New York for me, and I'm glad they were enjoying shopping and stuff on the UES, it's their vacation too! but like... you travelled all the way to New York for me. Maybe you could prioritize seeing me 🥺 BUT I was perhaps entering the mouth of the pain cave at this time. I'd been running for over 4 hours, the longest I'd ever done, I didn't have enough sodium.

The spectators were awesome. All along the whole course they were great—if it ever felt like too much, I just walked in the middle of the course and tuned them out fine. There's no way I would've finished without not just their vocal support but material support as well—a bag of pretzels was like manna from heaven. Spray-on Biofreeze. Drinks between the official hydration stations. Alcoholic drinks, too (I did not partake, but boy if there's ever a time to break your sobriety...). Tissues. Bananas and orange slices, cookies, Halloween candy, an angel who had my fave kind of Honey Stinger chews. I'd been eating my own gels every 30 minutes on the dot but I was starting to get sick of them. I took everything that anyone shoved in my hands, Gd bless the people of New York City and their generosity, foresight, and kindness.

The Bronx: Going up the Willis Ave Bridge I didn't know if I would be able to finish. I hadn't run in a couple miles. I looked over to my left and saw runners crossing the Last Damn Bridge and it looked unfathomably far away. I had over 6 miles to go, there was just no way. I wanted to lie down in the middle of the street, find a way to tell my family to pick me up here. But there was a woman on the bridge, the first spectator in the final borough, rocking a well-swaddled baby that couldn't have been older than just a few weeks in her arms, welcoming us to the Bronx. I had to keep going after that. I kept telling myself to just keep walking, step by step, and eventually I would finish.

I hoped crossing the 20 Mile marker would be a boost but it made me feel like crying, if I had been hydrated enough to cry. The Boogie Down Bronx was popping but I could not match their energy. My legs were not going to run another mile. I was literally staring at the road taking one step at a time, my head down.

Then out of nowhere I felt someone next to me. Another runner, a middle-aged guy I'd never seen or spoken to before, came up beside me and patted me on the back and mumbled something I didn't hear before jogging off, something short like "keep going," "you got this," etc it could've been anything we runners say to each other on the course from time to time. It doesn't really matter what he said because just that pat on the back gave me fresh legs. Literally it was like I was on the start line again. I cannot explain it at all, I am tearing up just remembering it right now, the most powerful moment of my race. I immediately picked my head up and started running again and ran the rest of the Bronx. Everything hurt, but I could run through it.

I thought about getting his bib # and looking him up but I decided not to ruin the magic. My literal savior. We bobbed around each other a few more times but I lost him when I stopped on...

The Last Damn Bridge: There's an annual hype squad on the 3rd Avenue Bridge, the final bridge of the marathon that takes you back into Manhattan, and I've connected with some of them on FB. Their project this year was putting the names of runners' late loved ones on posters to give us an extra boost at Mile 21. I'd completely forgotten about it until I started passing the boards, then backtracked to find Phil's name ❤️ The organizer saw my name bib and said "Your name is Emily? My name is Emily, too! We have to take a photo!" so we did :) That interaction gave me a boost out of the Bronx and onto…

5th Avenue: You hear many warnings about the subtle but brutal elevation on 5th Avenue, which takes you from Harlem down almost 50 blocks to Central Park. I did not notice the elevation at all, or at least did not register it as elevation. I was mostly focused on trying to stay conscious. I wasn't ever urgently concerned that I was going to pass out, but if someone had bumped into me I probably wouldn't have gotten up. I was fighting back dizziness—but having fun again? Fun might not be the word but I have pretty positive feelings looking back on 5th Ave. The Bills won—I listened to part of the fourth quarter bc I needed to mentally be anywhere else for a few minutes. My walking speed was about equal to my "running" speed at this point so I mostly settled for walking.

Fun crowds, lots of people saying my name. Saw my family for the second and final time! I only stopped for a moment—my cousin said "How do you feel?" and I kind of fake smiled/laughed (?), my eyes not really focused on any fixed point, and said "I just need to keep going" and stumbled away into a jog. AND THEN I SAW MY FAVE TIKTOKER? I am not big into tiktok but if any of you know Dutch (dutchdeccc) I ran past him, did a double-take, TURNED AROUND and went up to him?? I spit out something incoherent like ohmygdiloveyourvideos, he was so sweet he grabbed my hand and said oh my gd thank you so much you are doing so great you are amazing! and I ran off into Central Park 😭

Central Park: There were making the miles longer here. I need to see the numbers and cold hard facts about the course measurements because these miles were longer than the other miles. I hated every second of miles 24 and 25 in the park. THAT was the pain cave. That was, of course I am going to finish because I came this far, but I have never felt this bad in my life. Running would get this over with sooner but my legs are no longer functioning and I might end up eating asphalt so we are walking 16-minute miles until we're out.

I knew certain ways my body would react to the distance because I've done long runs, but I didn't know most of the ways. Like, of course I have a calf cramp, that's what happens. But your legs spasming like in those videos you see of shaky runners who collapse right before the finish line—suddenly oh shit, I understand how that happens. It's not just one foot in front of the other, if I can't run I'll walk—at some point you cannot walk, but you have to figure out how to keep walking.

Central Park was fucking The Long Walk by Stephen King. I keep trying to remember specifics but I think my brain is blocking them out on purpose.

Central Park South: I'm crying again just recalling this. The final mile. You leave the park and run from Sherman's statue and the Plaza Hotel to Columbus Circle before reentering the park for the .2 finish. The hugeness of the marathon and achieving this goal finally hit me and I started crying, like actual tears—but my chest was so tight and achy that crying made it very hard to breathe, instantly, which was actually scary, so I stopped crying QUICK. Gathered myself. Most people were sticking to the right-hand side of the course, along Central Park, mostly empty of spectators. But I fucking needed people.

I can't overstate the power of the crowds at the NYC Marathon. Of course hype spectators are fun at any race, the cheering really is uplifting, the signs are funny. But at 25.7 miles you need more (at least I did) and New York City fucking delivered. I started walking along the barricade on the left, lined with people, and stared as many of them as I could dead in the eye. Literally forcing eye contact with these strangers lmao. It happened throughout the race—you catch a spectator's eye and connect with them, they say something right to your soul and you believe them. But I swear that entire barricade came through for me. It was sunset but still light enough they could read my name on my bib. I started jogging, high-fiving the kids, just looking from one face to the next begging them to talk to me, kept running just to see the next person. And they were smiling and cheering and it worked. I felt like the only person on the fucking course. I kept running even when I had to go right back into the park, uphill .2 miles to the finish.

I kept thinking "this is so fucking hard this is the hardest thing I've ever done if you just keep running to the finish you never have to run ever again." I truly felt like I sprinted across the finish line fast as Usain Bolt, but looking back at the video I was hobbling slightly faster than my 92-year-old grandmother.

The finishers area kinda makes you feel like a toddler, which is fitting because at that point, mentally, you can't think clearly. Like, your brain doesn't have any fuel left to process what's going on after running for 6 hours so the volunteers shepherd you through like a preschooler. Here is your medal, great job!, let me get you a warm poncho and wrap it up tight for you, do you see those big green signs over there, just follow them, yep!, is this bag too heavy for you, are you sure, okay, you did so good today. We must look like stunned baby deer.

Walked to Lincoln Center to meet my family. Nightmare bc once you're on the streets you directly encounter non-runners for the first time all day and most of them do not give a fuck. And as I said, you are physically and mentally struggling already.

But getting that medal is really fucking cool. And worth it

I won't bore you with the rest of the night (mostly ouch ouch stairs ow big step ough lying down hurts standing up hurts shower hurts eating makes me nauseated sleep is impossible) but over 24 hours out, I've never been sore like this. Just uncrossing my ankles hurts. I've always enjoyed the ache of a tough workout but this is something else. Proud of it though. However, unfortunately, I will be losing a toenail. Some may say that is a rite of passage for a distance runner but unpleasant and painful and kinda makes me dizzy nonetheless.

I've still barely had time to emotionally process any of this. I've wanted this for so long. Even as I was doing it, and trying to live in the moment, I could not believe I was actually running the New York City Marathon. And in 2024—this year I've dreaded for so long, the 10th anniversary of Phil's death, a year that's been unexpectedly brutal on me in so many other ways, too. But Phil was with me every step of the way, literally.

I've been wearing the medal all day even though it rubs against the sunburn on the back of my neck, trading little smiles and nods with my fellow runners. We fucking did it. I had no idea what that meant two days ago, what it took. If I did, I'm not sure I would've even tried. But we fucking ran the marathon babyyyyy

This is kind of the only thing I want to talk about so if you want to talk about it or have any questions or anything just let me know 🥺

[uvobreakmylegs]

Bystander

💕Happy (Belated) Valentines Day💕 (again lol)

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, murder, death, gore, blood, stalking

Word count: 6.1k

The sound of the woman's neck snapping echoed out into the night air, and she let out one final gasp as she fell to the pavement, the broken bone jutting out of her neck unnaturally.

“No! Kim! Goddammit no!!”

Phinks turned away from the woman's body in order to face the man screaming at the other side of the lot.

Tears were falling down the man's face, but he froze when he saw Phinks' attention turned to him – he was the last one standing. Everyone else from the group that had tried to jump Phinks was now dead, reduced to lifeless bodies scattered in different areas of the lot.

Despite being confronted with the fact that the people he'd teamed up with had died, it didn't push the man to try and attack Phinks for the sake of avenging his fallen comrades – in fact, it did the opposite.

The man turned around and began to run.

That was more than a little pathetic, Phinks thought to himself, although he could understand that reaction at least somewhat.

That guy and the others had been completely unprepared when they'd made the attempt on his life, their skills nowhere near being able to even scratch him. It was just another instance of sub-par nen users who'd learned nen in the fastest way possible and spent little to no time in trying to develop a worthwhile ability because they were too eager to try and get revenge on the troupe. It was something he and all of the others were used to by now.

Annoying, but at least it was easy enough to take care of. And with this guy, he could do so without too much effort.

Phinks leaned down, picking up a small bit of rubble that had come from the aging parking lot while the man continued to run. He infused the small stone with a bit of nen, and as the man turned to continue his escape past a building, Phinks threw it in the man's direction.

It punctured through his neck and tore through the throat muscles before it came out on the other side.

The man immediately fell to the pavement, gasping as he rolled over onto his back while he clutched at his neck, his fingers quickly becoming stained with red as he tried to prevent the blood that came gushing out of the wounds. If he was a bit more competent and a bit less panicked, he likely wouldn't have had any trouble dealing with that wound. But after what he'd seen happen to his companions, he had lost his composure in record time and wasn't able to think rationally.

As he looked at the man and the amount of blood that was slowly spreading out over the ground, it didn't feel necessary to walk over and finish the job. While Phinks didn't tend to be one to prolong the deaths of his victims, with the way things were going, the guy would be dead within a few minutes. No need to spend the extra effort when the outcome was already clear.

So he began to walk away from the scene, keeping an eye on his surroundings. There was an off-chance that there were still one or two from the group that were hiding, waiting for Phinks to lower his guard and strike when he felt it was safe. That had happened at least once with him, and a few different times with some of the others: blacklist Hunters, ones who actually knew what they were doing, would con those who had just learned nen into being bait for the troupe, and after they had been finished off, the Hunter would swoop in and try to kill off that troupe member.

And people said the Phantom Troupe were the bad ones.

Phinks had allowed himself to get a little distracted after he'd determined that there was no one else hiding in the darkness, and as he made it to the other edge of the lot, he noted the storm clouds that were in the sky. A bad storm was coming, it seemed.

“Oh my god!”

He'd been just close enough to hear those words being exclaimed.

Back in the direction where he'd had left the man.

Phinks looked back, and while he couldn't see everything from where he was standing, there was definitely someone now leaning over the man with the neck wound.

“Are you alive?!” he heard the new person say.

The next bit wasn't as audible, but Phinks was able to make out what sounded like someone gurgling in response.

So the guy was still alive.

Phinks sighed.

He could probably leave it. There was a good chance that the guy would bleed out before help could arrive. But there was a slim chance that he could survive his injuries. If that happened, it'd become a bigger mess that Phinks wouldn't want to deal with; leaving the would-be avengers alive tended to only make them come back stronger and a bit more cunning.

With another sigh, Phinks turned around and began to head back to the scene he had just left. This is what you get for not finishing him off, he said to himself. And he knew a few of the other members of the troupe would have criticized him for leaving the man in the way he did.

So much for not spending extra effort.

Staying in the shadows, Phinks took his hands out of his pockets and cracked his knuckles as he got closer to the man and the new person hovering over him.

You were kneeling down next to him, already looking overwhelmed by the sight of the man on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

“Why would someone do this?” you asked aloud, your voice wavering somewhat. It didn't seem like you were actually asking the man on the ground next to you, more like you were asking yourself.

You didn't appear to be anything other than an ordinary civilian, and Phinks doubted this group would've involved someone like that in their plot to kill him. So you were completely unrelated to the guy and the group who'd jumped him and just happened to be in the wrong place when you caught sight of him.

“Hang on, I'm gonna – gonna stop the bleeding,” you said to the man as you removed your hoodie. You pressed the fabric against the wounds in his neck while you tried not to hyperventilate, breathing out through your mouth as you did your best to keep yourself calm.

“I need you to hold it for a second, o-okay? So I can get my phone....”

You trailed off as you grabbed at your bag with one hand while still holding the hoodie to his neck with another. However, the man wasn't listening to you. He had his eyes fixed on Phinks, who was still standing in the darkness.

With the damage to his throat, the man wasn't able to say much and had been limited to grunts and moans. And instead of holding the hoodie like you'd told him to, Phinks watched as the man grabbed at your arm, getting bloody hand prints all over your skin as he tried to get your attention, tried to point out the murderer who was watching you fish your phone out of your bag.

Phinks needed to kill you before you were able to call anyone. And with how defenseless and unaware you were, that wouldn't be an issue.

The man sensed it when Phinks' aura flared with the intent of killing you, and he pulled at your sleeve again while he tried to get your attention.

The guy hadn't been able to run from him; did he really think that you'd be able to get away? Did he really think that Phinks would allow you to get away once you saw his face?

You paused in your search for your phone to look back down at the man. His arm then began to move, fingers straining as he tried to point over at Phinks.

Phinks already saw the way this would play out: you would look over to where the man was pointing, see him, and in the split second you had to realize that you were looking at a murderer, Phinks would rush forward and snap your neck like he'd done with the woman minutes prior. The man who lay next to you would follow shortly after, and then all the loose ends of this annoying night would be tied up.

That was how it was supposed to go.

But then you did something that surprised him.

Instead of looking behind you, you reached out and grabbed the man's hand.

“You're not gonna die, okay? I'm going to call for help, and someone'll come here who can fix you up. You're gonna be okay. I promise.”

There were tears pricking your eyes as you said that, though you were desperately trying to keep your composure as the situation was still stressing you out of your mind. But even then, you tried to reassure the man by smiling at him.

“You need to help me, though,” you said, “you-you're losing too much blood, you'll die if you lose anymore. So you need to press this against your neck. Put pressure on to stop the bleeding.”

With that, you took his hand and pushed it against your hoodie, trying to get him to help in applying the correct amount of pressure.

“Please. I don't want you to die.”

Your words seemed to have had some affect on the man, because after that he did as you said and pushed on the sides of his neck. Unbeknownst to you, the man finally realized that he needed to use his nen to keep himself from bleeding out.

You seemed to find the way he held at his throat encouraging, and you reached again for your bag with some reassurance that the man wasn't going to immediately bleed out without you.

But as you finally pulled out your phone and began to dial emergency services, you gave the man your name and then asked if he was able to speak. The man shook his head as best he could.

“That's okay,” you said, “you can tell me later.”

You hit the call button while the man looked back to Phinks. His eyebrows furrowed and he seemed confused as to why the spider had yet to attack you.

The weird thing was that Phinks didn't really know either.

There was literally no reason for him to stand there doing nothing while you continued as you were, calling for help and bringing in more potential witnesses.

Yet Phinks had been caught off-guard by the things you'd said to the man. Why that was, he wasn't completely sure, but for now, at least, he found himself wanting to wait and see what else you'd do.

Meanwhile, you'd managed to connect to someone.

“Please, I need an ambulance,” you told the operator, “I found a man – I think he got shot. I-in the neck. I'm trying to stop the bleeding but I don't know how long he'll last.”

You tapped on the screen to turn on the phone's speaker before you put your hands back on the sides of the man's neck, pressing the hoodie that was now thoroughly soaked with blood as you gave your location to the operator so they knew where to send the ambulance.

After that, you were talking to him again, the operator still on the other end of the line while you were trying to keep the man awake by speaking to him, a whole bunch of meaningless information spilling from your mouth. The area where you lived, what you did for a living, stupid facts about your life, and you even bothered to mention some upcoming video game that you were excited for, telling him that once he got better that he needed to tell you about himself and if he also liked video games.

In between all of that, you kept repeating that it would be okay.

After a certain point, Phinks had to wonder if you were saying that to reassure yourself.

It wasn't long after that the storm clouds hanging over your heads all this time decided to make their move, a drizzle of rain beginning to fall. You clearly realized that the water would be bad for the open wounds on the man's neck, and so you told him to press down on the hoodie again while you looked for an area where he'd be dry. You decided to move him by grabbing his ankles and pulling him to an area with a cover, all the while apologizing again and again in the event that you managed to hurt him while you did that.

How long was he going to let this go on for? Humor your attempts at keeping this guy alive before he stepped in and put an end to it?

Currently you still had your hands around the man's throat, keeping the pressure on his neck while the chill that the rain brought caused you to shiver. There was still no sign of any ambulance coming, though Phinks could still hear the operator assuring you that it was on its way.

Phinks noticed when the man turned his head back in his direction, staring at him once more. And that time, you noticed as you turned your head to follow his gaze.

The instant he saw your head begin to move Phinks got out of the way, finding cover fast so you wouldn't see him.

At first all he could hear was the sound of the rain falling to the pavement.

“Oh god.”

Your voice was trembling when you said that. You now saw the other bodies in the lot and it hit you that you were in a lot more danger than you had initially thought, if you'd even been thinking about your own safety at all before.

Phinks could hear the voice of the operator coming from your phone as they asked what was wrong.

“There's.... There's others. In the parking lot. On the ground,” you said, “I don't.... I don't see anyone moving. I-I'm too scared to go check over there.”

“You don't need to go over. Just stay where you are,” the operator told you, “do you see anyone other than the ones on the ground?”

“No.....”

“Then just keep doing what you're doing. Help will be there soon.”

“Right... Right. It'll be okay.”

Phinks peered out from behind his cover and found that your attention was on the man again. You were still talking to him, still repeating over and over that everything would be okay, and when sirens began to sound in the distance, you pointed it out to him and told him that help would be there in no time.

The cheerful demeanor you were trying to keep up for his sake was a lot more forced now. Phinks had to wonder what exactly had been going through your head when you first saw the man – you didn't think to check your surroundings at all? You just saw someone who was dying and didn't think anything beyond getting him help? That was beyond stupid, especially when you believed that the man had been shot.

The growing sounds of the sirens indicated that they were getting closer, proving you right that they'd be here soon. Phinks needed to decide on what he was going to do.

By now it was impossible to keep anyone else from getting involved – him standing around and doing nothing while you called for help had seen to that. Even if he killed the two of you right now, you and the rest would be discovered shortly. Not that big of a deal for him, as he was certain he could disappear while emergency services were still processing the scene.

But he didn't really feel like killing you for some reason.

And since you weren't leaving your spot while you helped that guy cling to life, killing him without you seeing would be difficult. But even if he was willing to let you live, he couldn't leave that guy alive.

When the flashing lights of the ambulance could be seen in the distance, a new thought occurred to him, and it was then that Phinks made the decision to leave. Once again keeping to the shadows within the lot, he intended on leaving the crime scene before doubling back.

He glanced back at you one more time while he could still see you. You were still reassuring the guy while you slowly began to relax just a little, confident that he'd be saved and that you'd been able to help him.

There was literally no reason not to kill you. Not only that, Phinks was aware that by his feet were a few more bits of rubble. He could easily do to you what he'd done to the guy, and this time make sure he killed his target by aiming at your head.

Why he still chose not to kill you, he had no clue.

Phinks found himself watching you a lot after.

Days had passed since that night and no one else came after him. It was unlikely that there'd be any connection made between him and the crime scene left behind, and there had only been one person who had seen his face in that lot. That loose end was now tied up, so he didn't have any other reason to stay in the area.

But Phinks still wasn't sure what to do with you.

Technically he didn't have to do anything; you hadn't seen him, and the man hadn't communicated anything to you, so you knew nothing about Phinks or the troupe. He could just leave you alone, forget about you completely and that would be the end of it.

But just like he'd been when he had stood by and let you call emergency services, he had no clue what was driving him to keep an eye you in the following days. No idea why he bothered to track down where you lived and watch what he could through your windows.

And he didn't know why that one moment kept replaying in his head – where you had grabbed at that man's hand and smiled as you tried to reassure him, promising him that he wouldn't die and trying to give him the motivation to keep fighting and live.

He thought about it a lot until he got to the point that he found he didn't want to think anymore about why he was watching you so closely, and just chose to watch you as if that was what he'd always done.

The days after the incident you spent most of your time hiding in your apartment, and on occasion you would pull away at the closed blinds just a little bit to glance at the outside. Only for a few seconds before you would quickly pull away.

You seemed pretty jumpy.

The theory that was starting to go around was that the group had died due to gang activity – if that was what the police ended up deciding on, that was probably why you were so nervous. You likely feared that you'd gotten involved with something you shouldn't have, and now there were dangerous people that would be after your life. And if you knew how Phinks had followed that man to his hospital room and broke his IV before jamming the two pieces through his skull, you'd have good reason to believe that your life would come to a grisly end.

You must've heard what had happened to the guy you'd tried to save – it'd been pretty big news over the past few days, a parking lot full of murder victims and the one survivor of the initial attack being found dead in after. People were at a loss as to why exactly the group from the “Back Lot Slaughter” had died and why the survivor had been hunted down.

Your name hadn't been released in any news reports, it looked like. Likely out of fear that it would make you a target.

After a little bit longer you left your apartment for a short period of time to get groceries, and the entire time you glanced over your shoulder while trying hard to act like you weren't. And when you were on your way back from shopping and found that the area around you appeared to be empty, you not so subtly reached into your bag so you could close your fist around your keys, ready to use them as a weapon if case anyone attacked you.

If you were that worried for your life then why stay here? Didn't you have friends or family who lived out of town that you could stay with?

Apparently not, as you stayed where you were, eventually leaving your apartment more frequently when you went back to work. Evidently you felt it was safe enough that you could head back out more often.

He needed to move on, however.

Phinks had only been in the city because he'd been heading back home after a job, and he'd never been intending on staying as long as he did; just one night at most. Really, he should've been trying to figure out if that group had known he would be there or if it was just random chance that they'd come across him. Not wasting his time watching someone like you.

He needed to figure out what it was that he wanted from you and then be done with it. Either by doing what he should've done that night, or.....

…..

Or what?

That was still unclear – what exactly he wanted from all of this. And once more he that he didn't feel like thinking about it too much.

Still, he wasn't going to continue like this indefinitely. So it needed to end soon.

He felt like he was about to reach that point one late afternoon a couple weeks after. He wasn't getting anything out of watching you hide away in your apartment, and it would be best to head back home and forget about the whole thing.

He was just about to head off when he noticed something.

You'd gone out for work and did a bit of shopping before coming back today. Another quick trip where you grabbed essentials while looking over your shoulder. So he found it odd when he saw you exiting your apartment again, hurriedly locking up the door before you turned away and headed back in the direction of the store you'd gone to earlier.

You must've forgotten something. And it must've been pretty important for you to go get while you felt that your life was in danger.

As usual, Phinks followed from a distance, close enough to keep an eye on you but not so close that you'd notice him.

At the end of your short but tense walk was the store you'd gone to earlier, and Phinks hung back, not feeling much need to follow you inside. If it was just one or two items that you were running inside to grab, it'd look weird if he went in and then back outside so shortly after you.

Apparently the thing that was important enough to make you go back outside was body wash, as you came out of the store with a bottle of the stuff in hand. Your pace was still somewhat hurried, and as you began to approach the stairs at the side of the store that lead down to a sidewalk, he got out of the way before you could spot him, heading down the stairs himself.

There was an automatic thought that he needed to get to a place where you wouldn't see him so he could follow you back, and he began to do that before he stopped. He knew he needed to stop this; following you back to your apartment would be doing the exact opposite of that. It was time to leave and not bother with you anymore.

Or maybe he could stay where he was so you would need to get close as you walked by. The entire time since he'd first seen you, you'd been at a distance. Maybe if he saw you up close and saw just how much of a stressed-out wreck you'd become in detail, the sight would annoy him enough that he'd be able to forget the way you'd been with the guy he killed. Maybe that had been the solution the whole time.

So Phinks stayed, standing against the wall at the bottom of the stairs while waiting for you to come down. You were at the top of the stairway not long after, and as you began to descend, he noticed the way your eyes glanced over at him before you looked to the path in front of you.

Not the reaction of someone who recognized a person who'd been at a crime scene, so at least that confirmed that you hadn't seen him that night. At least there was that.

What exactly had caused what happened next, he didn't know. It looked like something had distracted you, and you turned your head over your shoulder right as you were descending the stairs.

Phinks wasn't sure if you'd misjudged the steps or if it was something else, but you managed to lose your footing and began to fall face-first down the stairway.

The stairway wasn't a long one, but you'd bang yourself up falling from that height, maybe break a few bones.

It was lucky that he happened to be right there to catch you.

Though it was more like he broke your fall as you landed against him, face-planting into his chest.

But he grabbed you by your arms after to make sure you didn't go anywhere.

You pulled back slightly when you regained your footing and stared at him for a few moments. And when you finally processed what had just happened, a look of mortification formed on your face.

“Oh my god – I'm sorry,” you began, “thanks for catching me. Sorry that happened.”

“It's okay,” said Phinks, “didn't want to see you get hurt.”

“Thanks. Still, I'm sorry.”

You'd averted your eyes, clearly embarrassed.

And he still had his hands on you.

“What caused that?” Phinks asked.

“Nothing. Just me being stupid. Sorry,” you answered.

Then you looked at one of the hands on your arm, and then added “sorry, you don't need to hold me anymore. I'm good now.”

He let go of you, albeit reluctantly.

You side-stepped him almost immediately, giving him a weak smile as you said “thank you again.”

Then you began to continue down the stairs as you'd been before you tripped.

“Leaving already?” Phinks asked, an brow raised.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry.”

How many times were you going to apologize?

“I'm... I'm late for something,” you added.

“... Okay. Sorry to hold you up, then,” he said.

“You're fine. Thank you again.”

With that, you continued down the stairs, heading away from him and back to the safety of your apartment.

You glanced back at him a few times as you did, a small worry growing in you every time you found that he was still staring at you. After a certain point, you didn't look back anymore, but your pace did quicken shortly after that.

After you turned a corner, you were out of sight.

It was time to go for him as well.

… Except for whatever reason, Phinks found himself going back in the direction of your apartment.

The blinds were drawn shut when he got back, and no doubt you'd done your routine of locking and bolting the front door. You might recognize him if you peeked out through your blinds again, so it'd be best to make sure you didn't manage to spot him.

As the sun set and day turned into night, he saw that the lights inside your apartment were still on. And they stayed on when the normal time for you to go to sleep came and went.

You couldn't still be awake, could you?

With no one else in the area seeming to be active, Phinks approached your front door. While he probably wouldn't be able to figure out exactly what you might be doing, he'd probably be able to tell if you were asleep or not.

When he stood in front of it and quietly listened, he heard something coming from your apartment.

The sound of running water.

…. Phinks felt it was a weird time to get a shower.

….

If he went in there now you wouldn't be able to react immediately.

Why that thought crossed his mind he had no clue, but the instant it did Phinks was heading back down the stairs of your apartment and making his way towards the side of the building. Right under the balcony attached to your unit. Going in through the front door would make too much noise and alert your neighbors, so going in through an entrance where the obstacles in his way would be minimal was more ideal. So he climbed up.

A metal latch on the inside of the sliding door of your balcony was all that stood in his way, and he broke it easily when he forced the door open. There was a bit of noise when he wrenched the metal apart, and he waited a moment to see if any of your neighbors would step outside to investigate. But no one came, so Phinks stepped inside and slid the glass door shut behind him. It wouldn't lock now, but that didn't really matter.

You were supposed to be taking a shower, but after taking a few steps into your apartment, he noted that he didn't hear any water running. Instead, he heard different noises coming from the bathroom; what seemed to be the sound of your feet hurrying across the tiled floor.

He reached the small hallway right as you flung open the bathroom door and stepped out with only a towel wrapped around you.

Your eyes landed on him immediately and you froze.

Terror quickly took over your features as you stared at him, an intruder in your apartment who had come in when you had least expected it and were completely unprepared.

There was also recognition in your gaze; it was only a few hours ago that you'd seen him, so that wasn't too surprising.

A period passed where neither of you said anything.

And then-

“Hey-” Phinks began.

That single word forced you out of your shock as you bolted for the kitchen.

He followed.

You were trying to get at a knife block, your finger brushing against the hilt of the biggest one when he grabbed you around the waist and pulled you away from it.

You shrieked when he touched you, but the noise didn't last long as he clamped one of his hands over your mouth, muffling your screams as you tried to cry out for help.

The two of you ended up on the floor of your kitchen, his one arm wrapped around both of yours and keeping their movements limited while his other hand stayed on your mouth. You were trying to grab at him as best you could while you kicked your legs out in an attempt to escape his grip. All while you cried into his hand, the tears beginning to run down your face.

Phinks kept holding you, knowing that eventually you'd run out of steam.

And after a few minutes like that, you did. Now you were still, shaking in his grip while you continued to sob into his hand.

It was the second time he'd had his arms around you, he noted. Odd how the first two times you had physical contact with each other you ended up being held against him in some way. Odd, but he didn't mind it.

He noticed when you began to move again, trying to wiggle one of your arms out of his grip. The reason for that turned out to be in an effort to adjust the towel you were wearing. During the time when you were struggling, it had become loose and fallen open. Now that you weren't in as much of a panic, you were clearly feeling embarrassed and wanted to cover yourself.

Phinks decided to take a chance and took his hand off your mouth, and while you let out a shaky breath after, there were no more attempts to scream on your part. He hummed as he adjusted the towel so you were covered again, happy that you weren't being difficult. At least for now.

Once that was done, he wrapped that other arm around you, making you continue to sit like that with him. The drops of water that had remained on your hair and skin were soaking into the material of his tracksuit, but he took more note of what he smelled when he breathed in. A nice scent on your skin – that body wash you'd bought earlier.

As much as he wanted to say that he liked it, it'd probably be a weird thing to mention that he thought you smelled nice, at least in this situation.

He refocused when he saw you glance over your shoulder, still trembling as you looked at him. You probably wanted to know what was going to happen to you, but you didn't seem willing to say anything.

Since you wouldn't speak, he went first.

“I was being nice to you earlier and you blew me off,” said Phinks.

A sob was still coming out with every other breath, but you managed to pull yourself together enough to begin to form a response.

“I-I-I'm s-sor-”

“Don't say that you're sorry again. I heard enough of that earlier.”

You quickly clamped your mouth shut while he continued.

“Do you know why I'm here?” he asked.

You didn't say anything at first, seeming hesitant to answer.

Phinks huffed.

“You wouldn't stop talking when you found that guy in the lot; now you're barely speaking even when I want you to.”

That statement of his seemed to confirm some things in your head.

“Why did you try so hard for that guy, anyway?” Phinks then asked.

When you didn't answer that time, he chose to ignore that and continued with “what I don't get is how long it took you to realize that you were in a dangerous situation. You thought that the guy had been shot and didn't think that there'd be repercussions for trying to help him?”

“You... You heard that?” you asked.

“You weren't being very quiet; anyone could've heard you.”

“..... You killed those people?” you whispered.

“That's a stupid question, don't you think?”

“... Are you going to kill me?”

In response to that, Phinks finally loosened his grip so he could turn you and have you face him. Your hands immediately went to clutch at your towel and you looked terrified and confused.

Phinks still remembered how you'd been with that guy. How you'd begged him to help you help him, how you'd smiled at him as you told him that he'd make it, how easily you opened yourself up to a dying man and tried to make him promise that the two of you would talk again once he recovered from his injuries.

How you gripped his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

That thought had Phinks reaching over and grabbing one of the hands you had clutched against yourself. You let out a soft yelp as he pulled it away from you while he focused on how soft your hand felt in his.

Why had such an action stayed with him?

…..

He once again decided that he didn't want to think about it.

“I won't kill you,” he said, realizing that he hadn't answered your question.

“Why?” you asked.

Instead of answering, Phinks pulled you in closer, ignoring the way you began to panic when you saw how close his face was getting to yours. You were trying to escape the hold he had on you again, and when that didn't work, you pressed your free hand against his chest to try and keep him away from you.

He grabbed that hand as well.

When Phinks pressed his lips against yours, you whimpered.

He ignored it, far too taken by the thought of how nice it felt to have you like this.

Without anything to hold it up, the towel ended up falling off of you completely, and once again you let out a sad noise against his lips.

Phinks didn't do anything that time.

That was your own fault.

[samgirl98]

Forgotten Demon Twin 11/?

Prev | Next

Danny had wanted to do nothing more than wallow in self-pity in his room. Vlad had left him feeling discombobulated. He had no idea what to do now. Should he risk it and tell his parents he was Phantom? A little girl’s wails brought him back to the present.

Right, a ghost was attacking.

People ran as the ghost attacked at the mall’s parking lot. The screams weren’t loud, which just went to show how used they were to ghost attacks. They were focused on getting the hell out of dodge. Why did ghosts always attack in crowded areas, though? It made life so much harder for Danny.

“I’m here for your crown, Phantom.”

Danny ignored the giant green flame ghost and used a freeze ray in the hopes of stopping it. The ray hit, but it didn’t even slow the ghost down. As soon as it hit, the ice melted into a puddle of water. Danny didn’t let the minor setback deter him.

“You don’t deserve my crown or my kingdom, you flaming bag of gas.”

“Roar!”

“Did you—did you just literally say ‘roar’? What the actual fuck?”

The ghost didn’t say anything but turned into a big ball of fire headed straight for Danny. Danny looked around, noticing that there were still people in the parking lot. He did the only thing he could think of: he went up to the ghost and put a shield around it and himself.

The good news was that only Danny was hurt, and he could contain the fire within a very small radius.

The bad news: the flames went up into the sky, burning an ectoplasm green. There was a zero percent chance that Batman and his brood didn’t see that and would be sticking their noses into Danny’s business.

Dammit, now he was on a time limit. He didn’t want to have to deal with them.

“Now you’ve done it,” Danny said, “You’re going down!”

Danny ignored the burns on his body and flew up to the ghost, his hands glowing blue with ice, and punched it in the face.

“Roar!”

“Stop saying that,” Danny uppercut it, and it went down. Thankfully, it shrunk as it fell.

Danny took out his thermos and was about to suck it in when his parents showed up. Fuck!

His parents sometimes teamed up with Danny to take down a bigger threat, but it was always a fifty-fifty chance. They could easily start shooting at him as they could to the other ghosts. Danny didn’t want to take that chance. He sucked up the ghost and then flew as fast as he could. Even then, his parents started shooting at him.

Dammit!

“Get back here, Ghost boy,” his mom yelled out.

“Yeah, you menace, come back and fight us, you coward.”

Danny dodged a shot that almost clipped his shoulder. His mom was way too good at aiming. He was so busy keeping an eye out for his mom that he didn’t notice his dad aiming the bazooka at him. By some twisted miracle, his dad’s shot hit the mark. Danny yelled out in pain. He was already hurting from the burns the flame ghost had given him, and now the ectoplasm shot gave him another wound.

“Got him, Maddie!”

“Great job, sweetie,” His mom pointed a thermos at him.

Danny tried turning invisible. He flickered in and out of the visible spectrum. If some of his powers were acting out, he must be more tired than he thought.

“It’s working, Mads,” his dad yelled out.

Danny froze. What was working?

Suddenly, Danny fell from the sky. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t fly anymore. He hit the pavement hard, leaving a crater behind.

“Ugh. Ouch,” Danny shook his head, trying to get rid of the ringing in his ears.

Suddenly, white rings appeared around his waist. Danny panicked as he tried to keep the transformation under wrap. It didn’t work.

As he transformed back, Danny felt a body on top of him.

The Fentons saw a white light wash over Damian Wayne. They panicked for a moment, thinking it was their son. Once they blinked away the white spots, they noticed a boy who looked too much like their son covering another body.

Damian groaned as he fell on top of the ghost boy. Except it wasn’t the ghost boy. Both of their blood ran cold. Maddie and Jack noticed jeans and a white t-shirt with red accents. They noticed the messy black hair. With growing horror, the Fentons realized that the boy on the floor was their son, bleeding and with burn marks.

“No,” Maddie said in disbelief, “No!”

She ran up to the two boys and picked up Danny.

“No, my baby boy,” she cried out.

A hand she didn’t know fell on her shoulder. She tensed, ready to attack.

“We have to hide before someone figures out about Danny.”

Dick Grayson looked at her with a look of sadness and pity.

Maddie swallowed down her feelings. Dick was right; nobody else could figure out about Danny being Phantom. Her blood froze completely when she thought about what the GIW would do if they found out.

“Jack, open the GAV,” she commanded. Her husband did so. Damian had finally recovered and jumped in, followed by Dick. Maddie let them. Besides, she had questions.

“You knew about Danny being Phantom. How? You’ve only been in town for two days.”

Dick and Damian looked at each other.

“That’s not something we can answer without the rest of the family and Danny awake,” Dick said.

Maddie let it go and held on to her son tighter. All this time…all this time, they had been shooting at her baby boy. How had she never noticed it? She was a horrible mother!

“Mom,” Maddie looked down at Danny, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, my sweet baby boy. I’m the one who should be saying that not you.”

Danny closed his eyes, leaving Maddie lost in her thoughts. She would make this right. She had to.

____

“We have a situation,” Bruce said. They had suited up to see what the explosion had been, their secret identities be damned. His son might be in trouble.

“Yeah, old man, it’s the explosion.”

“No, Dick texted. The Fentons found out that Danny is Phantom. They’re asking questions.”

Every one of his children looked at each other. Things were moving fast and quickly spinning out of their control. Should they tell the Fentons their identities? They knew about Danny, but that didn’t mean they had to tell them their secret.

“We don’t have to tell them our secret identities, but,” Bruce added, “We can make up half-truths that protect us but also explain how we know Danny is Phantom and why we aren’t reacting as civilians would.”

“Like what,” Jason asked.

“It’s a public secret that Wayne Enterprises funds the JL. We can build off that,” Bruce said.

“I think,” Tim said, “you should go alone. If too many of us show up, we could freak them out. That way, we can stay here in case Constantine calls. We can figure out these Anti-Ecto Act Laws. Maybe you could even get some insights from the Fentons.”

The rest of his children nodded.

“Fine, I’ll keep you updated.”

Bruce left wondering how things had gotten so out of control.

Without thinking, Bruce got into the backseat of the car.

“Where to, sir,” Alfred asked.

“To the Fentons,” he answered absentmindedly. It wasn’t until the car was moving that Bruce remembered.

Alfred was dead.

I will say this is not how I thought this chapter would go. I had it all planned out, and then, bam, a curve ball hit me, and I was writing something else.

Hope you liked.