#danny is one of the two who can go to space without the suit

[lurukifennecfox]

DP x DC Astronaut Danny

he figured stuff out with his rouges he fixed his grades and now he's in space outside the space station he works at fixing stuff!! also he's without a suit and singing the "great asset to the company" but that's beside the point.

he's in space without a suit because he can. and the song is catchy and very funny in this particular situation- where did the wrench go?

Danny is in some sort of meta program and even if he doesn't have the meta gene (which as he found out did run in the family at least by dad's side which explains his... kool-aid-mannes) he does count as a member of extraterrestrial species.

there's the wrench! "hey can you please get that wrench for me?" a perk of ghost voice (not to be confused with ghost-speak the language) is that it doesn't need much substance to carry

[the person who danny asked for the wrench is whoever of your choosing]

[yoonjae20]

The Lives that could have been (or could be.) (Part 2 of 2)

Read on ao3. Masterpost.

Previous.

“Is every other life where I don’t become Phantom this bad?” Danny asks and Clockwork hums.

“More or less.”

“Then what-“

“I said ‘other lives you could live’ — not could have lived,” Clockwork interrupts. “There are infinite possibilities for your future after all.”

Once again pictures blur around them as they flicker through. Clockwork seemingly plucks out some at random, pushing them towards Danny.

“In this life you become an astronaut. You travel to space and become the top researcher in your field.“ 

Danny‘s eyes go wide at the picture of him beaming, floating inside a space station next to two other people. There are other objects floating around them and he waves at the camera.

“I never thought…” he trails off.

“That you could realize your dream of working for NASA? It’s one of your biggest regrets.”

Danny gulps staring at the still frame and he knows the Ancient of Time is right. After his accident and becoming Phantom he had written it completely off. With how irregular his heartbeat was, he would never pass the physicals. Not even speaking of his failing grades — he would never be able to get back to his 3.6 GPA. Sure he could technically go to space in his Ghost Form — considering he didn’t need to breathe but it wouldn’t be the same. 

Clockwork swishes it away before Danny can touch it, pulling another close to them.

“In this life you become an esteemed engineer, top of your craft and highly sought after,” Clockwork explains. 

Danny had always thought he would be too dumb to become an engineer, even when Tucker joked about him being a nerd. After all he was only improving on already existing blueprints and reverse engineering his parent’s inventions was different than thinking about new ones himself.

“You always regretted not having normal parents even if they love you when they aren’t distracted by work. But without growing up around then you would have never gained the skills to become an engineer and adapt on the fly.”

In the picture Danny is leaning against a table, some kind of contraption laying on it, snickering to himself while a black haired boy sits on the workbench close to him, laughing — blue eyes full of amusement. Danny has one hand settled on the boy’s thigh, intertwined with the boy’s left. 

Danny drinks in the sight, almost hypnotized by it. Clockwork pushes it away and replaces it with another one.

“You always wished that Vlad wasn’t your godfather,” Clockwork continues. “But without him you would have never met your husband.”

Danny is at some sort of gala, holding a champagne glass. The suit he is wearing looks expensive and specifically tailored to him. He is probably in his mid-thirties if not older. Another black haired man — once again blue eyes, leans towards his ear, whispering something in it with a smile on his face. Their suits are matching. Danny never thought he could look this content. For a long time he thought he forgot how to be.

“You always regretted being kind and having a martyr complex and not being selfish enough to put your needs first,” Clockwork says. “But it’s these traits that lead to you having all these lives.”

Danny is cooking with someone — mid-frame as he steals a piece of chocolate covered strawberry while a man with black hair and a striking strand of white swats at him with chopsticks from where is handling a wok. 

“And there are countless other futures like this.”

The images around start whirring again and Danny can only catch flickers.

A snapshot of him playing with a little girl outside — him floating next to a British man with a beige trench coat laughing. Him standing next to Tucker who is speaking to a microphone, the space looking like a streamer set-up. Him watching a black haired girl perform ballet — flickering to him fencing against a boy whose green eyes pin him through the fencing mask. Him studying with a boy with a buzz cut in a library and so many more. 

“I still don’t understand why you are showing me this now at all times.”

Clockwork snips his fingers, the images disappearing. Instead Danny feels the cold weight of the Crown of Fire settling above his head and the Ring of Rage appearing on his right hand. 

“It’s because it’s time you made a decision.”

“I thought I had no choice in the matter,” Danny says, feeling faint. “The Observants-”

“The Observants are not the ones who have the power,” Clockwork says. “It’s for you to decide whether you accept this fate or not.”

Danny knits his eyebrows together.

“I don’t get it,” he admits. “I can’t just give the throne to somebody else.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

Danny groans at that — this feels too much like talking with Jazz when she starts psychoanalyzing the impact of his trauma from repeatedly dying and reviving in the accident. 

“What would happen if I don’t?” Danny questions, anxious. “Do people die?”

“People die all the time,” Clockwork says dryly. “Whether that is a result of your actions remains to be seen.”

“You just showed me a world where they did!”

Clockwork shakes his head.

“The past is different. I can only clearly see what would have happened if you didn’t do something. Compared to it, the future's not set in stone. Every single action you take, every single decision results in a different path. Even I can not see every possible life you could lead,” Clockwork clarifies. “It’s all up to you.”

Danny can’t help the frustration rising up in him at that. He knows Clockwork means well but he is tired of the responsibility settled on his shoulders. He’s just a teenager for Ancient’s sake. He should be worrying about grades and prom and not about the political, interdimensional implications of becoming a King at age 15. 

Clockwork bonks Danny’s head with his staff, ignoring his yelp. 

“That was not an invitation for you to overthink,” the Ancient of Time chides. “You need to recognize what is important to you.”

Immediately his thoughts flash to Jazz, Tucker and Sam. 

As if sensing what he is thinking, Clockwork pushes his wand against his chest, near his core.

“What do you want to do?” he questions. “If your friends or family didn’t exist, if they were dead, where would the path take you? That’s what you need to find out.”

Danny frowns, staring at the clock-shaped top of the wand pressed against the D on his hazmat suit. He knows Clockwork is right — in some twisted kind of way. Danny had always lived according to others expectations. He needed to do well in school or Mr. Lancer would be disappointed in him. He needed to manage his mental health or Jazz would be disappointed in him. He needed to support his parents even if he never saw them because of their work or they would be disappointed in him. He needed to protect Amity Park and stay Phantom or else Tucker and Sam would be disappointed in him. 

Of course by now his Obsession wouldn’t let him change that last point no matter what — but sometimes Danny wonders if his Obsession was truly born from within himself or if it had been forced upon him. If Danny found a way to leave Amity Park — to not have to worry about its destruction through the GIW if he wasn’t there 24/7, would his Obsession change? Would it reveal its true self? 

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because even when the Observants thought you were too dangerous to stay alive, I saw your potential,” Clockwork says. “You could be everything you want if you would stop limiting yourself.”

Danny gulps, looking up from the wand into the Ancient’s eyes.

“So…choose your future.”

That conversation had been several years ago. Back then Danny had been overwhelmed at the prospect of it and many sleepless nights followed.

He sighs and closes the book he had been reading, glancing at the clock. 

His eyes widen at the time — shit he lost track of time. He grabs his jacket as he runs out of the house, jumping on one foot to slip into his shoes and calls out a goodbye to his amused roommates as they watch him go. 

He runs to the meeting spot, arriving 5 minutes late. His head swivels around as he tries to spot his date. 

“Danny!” a voice calls and Danny turns around, relief flooding his face when he sees their black hair. 

Yes, by now Danny can appreciate what Clockwork did for him back then, making him choose a future that he won’t come to regret — actually giving him a choice, instead of placing even more expectations on him.

Which future did Danny choose in the end? Well that’s for yourself to decide. Danny for his part is finally happy. 

“…!” 

[regretsofaghost]

I Couldn't Give What It Cost Me

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58929406

Who would have thought following Casper High’s lab safety protocols would leave him in the same place as if he followed his parents’, just infinitely more spooky looking?

Hell, Danny had even pulled out the worn piece of paper from their first class, the one that listed all the PPE needed to deal with a high school level of science and beyond! Sure, the tidbits about the different levels of HAZMAT suits were probably just fun facts, but his parents never fought him or Jazz on wearing their HAZMAT suits in the lab, nevermind the gas masks and goggles. If his parents’ research had any chance of radiation or burning them, he was wearing the PPE.

Sam and Tucker complained about the stiff suits, brightly coloured and stiff, all too large as they were back ups for Danny’s mom and dad. When Danny had pulled out his own, he was on some level happy that his white one was nearly the proper size, if still too large. It was always better safe than sorry in his parents’ lab, one too many chemical burns from unknown substances proved that.

“Y’know Danny, we could totally take these and trick or treat in them, they’re just creepy enough that we can pass as Pestilence, a horsemen of the apocalypse,” Sam said, voice muffled as she adjusted her mask.

“Oh, for sure, just after we explain why Pestilence is wearing a bright orange HAZMAT suit,” Danny pulled on his gas mask, breathing slowly as he got used to the odd, wheezing sound. He looked around the lab, huffing, “man, dad must’ve updated my suit without telling me. I think he added a welding shield on it, I can’t see anything.”

“Oh, don’t worry Danny, it makes you look spookier, especially with the white suit!” Sam smiled, though Danny couldn’t see it. “How about you keep your mask off till we get to the portal, then put it on when we get the picture?”

“Wait, we’re getting a picture?”

It was pointless to argue, so after getting to the portal and showing the waste of space off, and after a lot of directing, both Sam and Tucker annoyed at the small steps Danny took inside the portal, he was ready. He didn’t go too far into the tunnel, he kept mostly in the middle, he even smiled for Sam’s picture, decked out in his full suit, completely safe.

It wasn’t enough.

There was an unexpected jolt of electricity, sparks falling from the top of the tunnel that was the portal, and well, Danny couldn’t really see anything, so the sudden light was a surprise. It started him, and no one really ever talked about how hard it was to move gracefully in a full HAZMAT suit, especially one that was a size or two too big. He stumbled back, and wires that littered the floor tripped him. Danny’s hand fell against the wall as he tried to catch himself, tried to not fall onto the floor and embarrass himself, he couldn’t see the bright buttons that said ON and OFF, inside of the portal.

It was just pain after that.

Pain that flooded him so completely, overwhelming every sense until all he knew as pain. Bright, shocking, both burning and freezing, it was overwhelming all his senses, but it wouldn’t stop.

Sam and Tucker said it was a haunting sight when he stepped out of the portal.

Neither told him of how long they stood frozen, just listening to their friend’s death throes.

Being Phantom was easy. It was easier than it should have been.

He struggled yes, he phased through silverware when he was, alive, breathing, human, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near the beakers in chemistry anymore, his parents’ machines all homed in on him when he stepped through the front door. That was all part of his new, life, unlife, death? Not death. Scrodinger’s cat, a box unopened, was he dead or alive?

Fighting ghosts was easy, fun even.

Danny, Phantom, got pummeled often. He threw shitty punches and was hit with thousands of pounds worth of force back, he struggled with his powers, new ones appearing everyday. The Lunch Lady was hard, at first. Skulker, Technus, Plasmius, Box Ghost, Spectra, Ghostwriter, all of them. They were all hard to beat, at first. They all treated Danny, Phantom, like he was an adult, that he should be able to withstand them, should be able to survive their attacks, and he proved that he could. It was the first time in years that it felt like he could try his best, and that he could, and would, succeed. The ghosts pouring through his parents’ portal saw Danny, saw Phantom, and sometimes, it seemed like they were expecting his best too. They saw something more than a Fenton Freak, a boy who dreamed of the starts that were always going to stay out of reach.

People feared him, but they saw him.

They saw his ghostly form, the pitch black HAZMAT suit that he wore to death, the gas mask covering his face completely, the hood that covered his hair. Phantom looked like a harbinger of doom, a horseman of the apocalypse, something solely and completely otherworldly.

The threats got bigger and bigger, the stakes climbing as Danny, as Phantom, was the only person, the only thing, standing between the ghosts of the realm his parents opened, and the small town of Amity Park. As the GIW showed up, as mom and dad became more and more obsessed with Phantom, everything pouring and spilling on top of one another.

Something was bound to break.

Of course they captured him.

Of course they let him go.

Of course, they left the mask on until they had already cut him open, until after they had removed his organs, taken samples of his skin, broken bones and stole them.

Maybe they wanted to save his brain for last.

Maybe they thought if they touched his brain, he would dissolve like the others before him.

The Fentons never did understand cores.

Maybe, the fear in their eyes was more for what they had done than what they had seen under Danny’s mask.

He wouldn’t know, he never looked.

He didn’t want to see what death left under his mask.

Sam, Tucker, Jazz, they all knew. They respected his death enough to not describe it to him.

Maybe what laid underneath would be what sent him over the edge.

Mom and Dad, Maddie and Jack, the Fentons, they let him go, somehow. They helped him hide his trail from the GIW, somehow, and with help from Sam and Tuck, he made it to Gotham. From there it was up to him, with the equipment his parents, the Fentons, shoved into a duffle bag, and cash that Sam had been saving for him. It had to be enough to make a new life.

Now, Danny just had to deal with the ghosts and nightmares.

It was mostly wishful thinking that he could put Phantom in the past.

It was mostly wishful thinking that Gotham was going to be fine with its knights of the night.

It was mostly wishful thinking that he wouldn’t have to deal with the Bats.

A mysterious new meta who seemed to only target ghosts? That same mysterious new meta suddenly, without provocation, killing a new rogue?

What can Danny, what can Phantom, say. He really, really, hated Freakshow. That tended to happen when you mind control someone, especially when you made that person kidnap a Robin and threaten to have him walk a tightrope, one that was bound to break if it was anything like last time.

Danny was struggling. He knew, logically, that he should just go with the Bats, to explain why he did what he did, they were probably used to people blaming mind control for their actions, they had to know when someone wasn’t lying.

Right?

Danny couldn’t take the risk. Couldn’t chance them leading the GIW right to him while his guard was down. They were already sniffing around Gotham, he just.

He couldn’t.

Danny watched in horror as Batman’s gas mask was cracked, as the Dark Knight threw the person off, only in appearances trying to walk off the powerful punch.

Danny knew better.

He could tell Batman was holding his breath as he felt along his utility belt for something, anything, to filter the fear gas that was being pumped onto the street.

He knew he would find nothing.

If you asked Danny afterwards, he didn’t know why he went ghost, why he walked up to Batman, the very person Danny had been dodging for months now, and removed the ghostly gas mask from his face. He tried not to look at Batman’s face when he shoved it over his cowl, unsure how the fear gas will work on him.

Was it best used as an aerosol, breathed in and absorbed through the lungs? It had to work through mucous channels, maybe just less effectively through the eyes and mouth? It didn’t matter, Danny was dead, alive, Scrodinger’s cat, he could stop his breathing for minutes on end but eventually he had to take a breath, and that mattered less if the gas worked through mucus channels.

“Take it, don’t argue,” Danny said, surprised at how, normal, his voice sounded. He hadn’t thought about how he never really spoke when his mask was off, how it betrayed how young he was. Only just under fifteen, so close to his anniversary.

He couldn’t see any part of Batman’s face, the upper half covered further by the cowl and the visor on his gas mask, the lower now covered by the gas mask’s main components.

“Do you know if the gas works through mucous channels?” He asked, trying to maintain eye contact with the older man, unsure if he is even succeeding. Batman has never been known to be chatty, but this is concerning, not even a grunt in response.

“How old are you?” His voice was muffled by the gas mask, maybe it was a good thing, Danny was pretty positive that Batman wasn’t putting on the deeper voice he usually did.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m dead, not dead. Ughhh, think of Scrodinger’s cat, both dead and alive till you open up the box,” he never wanted to open the box, if he is completely honest, “Keep the gas mask on, don’t know how long it took me to get it to stop being in welding mode and don’t want to know,” keep talking, distract, “does fear gas work through mucous membranes? Do I have to keep my mouth shut, eyes closed?”

It was pointless, somehow, he broke Batman. Danny could hear the Scarecrow laughing somewhere in the distance, people screaming in fear, people fighting against things only they could see and understand.

Danny froze as he caught sight of white suits, teal and orange HAZMATs, through the crowd.

He took a deep breath.

Phantom had already lived his worst nightmare.

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 50/?

Prev | Next

Jason felt stupid. Why hadn't he gone to Ghostwriter from the beginning? The other ghost would’ve helped, and even if he couldn’t, Danny’s signature was headed toward the bookstore. Jason couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He let his emotions take over, and it cost him precious time.

Time his son didn’t have.

Jason had decided flying would be quicker than driving.

Talia had climbed on his back while he held on to Bruce and Dick in his arms. It was a bit awkward but doable. He turned them invisible in case anyone looked up. Raven was using a cloaking spell so no one could see her and Jazz.

Jazz had decided she couldn’t stay behind. While Dick and Bruce had put on their suit, she had argued she knew how the Fentons operated. She made sense, but they couldn’t leave Ellie alone.

In the end, Raven teleported Ellie to Wayne Manor. Ellie did not like the idea, but she reluctantly agreed when they explained their reasoning. Jason could tell that Dick and Bruce had been a bit weirded out by how intelligent Ellie was, but Jason couldn’t do anything about that. They didn’t have time to explain that Ellie might look like an infant, but she was mentally older.

Jason entered the building intangibly with his passengers and opened the door for Raven and Jazz.

“Little Wing, that was amazing,” Dick exclaimed.

Jason grunted, too tired from using his powers more than ever.

“You okay,” Dick asked.

Jason nodded. He could tell Bruce had questions, but the man held back from voicing them. It was fine, if they helped him find Danny, Jason would answer Bruce's questions.

“Ghostwriter,” Jason called out, “You here?”

Jason walked through the bookstore with everyone else trailing behind him. The bookstore was eerily quiet. Usually, Ghostwriter’s whistling could be heard throughout the store or, if that wasn’t the case, his typewriter. Now, though, there was nothing.

“I don’t feel Ghostwriter, but I feel a tear of some kind,” Raven said and took the lead. She led them to the back of the store. Jason saw a green that made him, Talia, and Bruce stop and tense. Jazz ran toward it without hesitation. Jason yelled behind her, trying to stop her. That color was always bad news.

“Jazz, stop!”

“No, that’s a portal! Guys, that’s a portal to the Infinite Realms. That’s probably how the Fentons got here, and that’s most likely where they took Danny. We have to stop them. Who knows what kind of damage they could do to Danny and the Infinite Realms?”

Jazz continued running, with the rest of them following her. They stopped in front of a thin green line.

“What are the Infinite Realms,” Dick asked.

“It’s the space between realities, the glue that holds them all together. It also holds every afterlife in existence, from purgatory to Hades and even some you’ve never heard of.”

“Sounds overwhelming,” Dick said.

“Don’t worry, I know how to navigate it. And if it’s anywhere near the portal the Fentons built, finding the way will be even easier. I also have allies I can call if we get lost. I doubt we will, though.

“Okay,” Jason said, “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Bruce yelled out, “We need to make a plan.”

“No, no plan. That will take too much time, time Danny doesn’t have!”

“I understand, Jason, but we have to come up with some type of plan if we want to succeed.”

Jason gritted his teeth, “I have a plan: it’s called the ‘get my son back from some lunatics even if I have to kill them’ plan.”

“Jason, Bruce is right. We can’t go in there without a gameplan,” Dick said.

“I have a plan,” Jazz said. She took out a white and green stick and turned it into a staff.

“Raven, stay here in case we don’t come back. " She took out a watch and fiddled with it. “Here, if we’re not back in two hours, call for help. Batman,” Jazz turned toward Bruce, “you can come, or you can stay. I don’t care, but I am saving my little brother; damn the consequences.”

Without another word, Jazz jumped into the tear. Jason followed right after her, ignoring the shouts of his parents.

He had to save his son.

____

The first thing Bruce noticed was the color green—Lazarus green. The place was saturated in the color, making him feel nauseous.

The second thing he noticed were the doors and floating islands.

“So this is the afterlife, huh,” Dick asked. “I must say, it’s a bit boring to look at.”

Talia didn’t say anything but observed her surroundings with a calculated look.

“There,” Jazz said while pointing in a random direction, “That’s the portal.”

“How can you tell,” Bruce asked. He had to make sure.

“I know the entrance to my old haunt. Think of it like a homing system; I can sense that’s the portal. Let’s go.”

Jazz started floating, surprising Bruce. Jason shouted in surprise, validating Bruce’s original assumption.

“Hey, if you could fly, why’d you make Raven carry you,” Dick asked.

“I can’t. In the Infinite Realms, humans have ghost-like powers. I’ve been practicing, so I know how to use them here. However, we don’t have time to teach you guys, so Jason will have to carry you again. Sorry.”

With that, she left them behind.

“Hurry up,” Jason said, “I’m not getting left behind.”

Bruce nodded. He knew the desperate feeling of not being too late to save your son. He refused to be the reason Jason was feeling that way.

Bruce let Jason carry them. Other superheroes had carried him through the air, but this felt different. It was as if gravity didn’t exist, and if Jason let him go, he wouldn’t fall but be suspended in the air.

Bruce didn’t like the sensation.

They reached Jazz quickly. She had stopped in front of a swirl just a shade darker than their surrounding area. She gave a quick nod and entered.

Bruce had no idea what they were walking into, but he would help his son and bring his grandson home.

[onboardsorasora]

🎾Tennis AU pt 33🎾

No, your eyes do not deceive you, you don't need to adjust your glasses. Wanted a bit of fluff from these boys specifically

Part 1 - Max Meets Dan | Part 31 - Thanksgiving | Part 32 - FIA Prizegiving

He was late, Max and Rupert had gone on ahead of him while he'd had an interview scheduled at the hotel. The SUV pulled up to the edge of the Melbourne Walk and Daniel's eyes widened at the size of the crowd.

“You reckon we can just power walk it through?” Blake asked and Daniel gave him a dubious look in return. 

“We can try. It probably won't be so bad though.” 

The door opened and Daniel stepped out, smiling his thanks to the volunteer. He only had a second before he registered that the crowd was going wild. It wasn't until he closed the door and saw people stretching their arms out with caps and signs and markers towards him that he realized that the crowd was going wild for him.

Daniel! Omg Daniel! We love you Daniel! Aussie Aussie Aussie! Ki Ki ki!! aaahhhh Daniel! Danny Ric!!

Two burly security people flanked him from seemingly nowhere and Daniel felt his eyes widen further before he shook himself out of it and stepped onto the Walk. 

It was chaos of a good kind. He couldn't remember signing so many things at any one time at an open. He still couldn't believe this was his life. This must have been what Max felt like when he'd come to the Australian open. No one had expected all the screaming fans with red bull racing kits stretching for a picture or his touch.

At the end of the path was an interviewer and Daniel grinned when the presenter threw an arm around his shoulder to start asking him questions. I honestly couldn't hear himself think over the roar of the crowd and truly was happy when they made it further into the more quiet parts of the paddock.

“Mate that was mental.” Daniel gushed to an equally floored Blake.

“We might have to get you a disguise to get you outta here later.”

They made it to the energy station, waving to DC and Adrian as they sequestered themselves in the quieter space.

“Oh Daniel, there you are! C'mon, I need you to change quick.” Vicky came out of nowhere, pushing Daniel in the direction of the driver rooms.

“Hey Vicks, erm what are we doing?”

“You're doing a hot lap with Max and Ford. I need you to change into the race suit in Max's room and then we need to go.”

Daniel looked back at Blake who seemed to be looking at his phone, Daniel wondering if he was checking the out of nowhere overfilled calendar again.

He changed as quickly as he could, fighting to get the navy nomex up his thighs without Max's help. The race suit was navy and basic. Branding him Red Bull and Ford Performance. He walked out and was immediately escorted onto a golf cart.

“Daniel!” Max greeted him with a kiss and Daniel calmed down a little. His anxiety had been spiking with all of the new unknowns happening at the same time.

“Hey baby. Do you know what's going on here?” Daniel looked dubiously at the helmet he was given and Max grinned at him. Luckily Vicky explained in short order.

“So I'm supposed to ask him questions while he tries to make me puke on a lap? And you want to film this?” He asked even more dubiously, Max's snort made him smile.

“You won't puke Daniel. It's just like a rollercoaster, I think.” Max pointed out, Daniel didn't have the heart to tell him that the last rollercoaster he'd been on he actually had puked a little. He'd keep that tidbit to himself.

They strapped him up in the car and Daniel looked at the cardstock paper they gave him. There were a few questions and the paper was thick in case he started clenching it maybe.

“You'd think they'd use a bigger font or something.” Daniel muttered which caused Max to look over at him and laugh.

“You'll be fine. Just make shit up if you can't read em.” Max shrugged and patted Daniel's thigh. “You look lovely by the way.”

Daniel grinned at him and blew a kiss.

“So what should I do?” 

“Uhm, just brace, maybe. Keep your head planted on the headrest as best you can and look forward don't try to look through the windows, you'll get sick.” 

Daniel felt his shoulders lose some of their tension at Max's words and cadence. He could do this. It wouldn't be so bad.

He was wrong. It was bad. Damn this thing was fast as fuck. A hysterical laugh tore itself from his throat.

“The questions!” Max prompted with his own laugh. 

“Oh shit!” Daniel giggled and patted his lap to find the paper. “God these words are vibrating all together– uhm when– uh fuck it I can't see shit. What's your favorite Ford vehicle?” Daniel couldn't read those questions if he tried. He was in a Ford with Ford emblazoned on his chest. When in doubt, think about marketing

Max laughed a happy sound. “That raptor we drove in LA was pretty great. Remember when we took it up the mountain. I didn't think we would have made it to that ridge when you went off road but I was surprised.”

Daniel cackled when he remembered how Max yelled at him the entire time they were pretty much diagonally climbing the hill. “Oh it was so sick, the four wheel drive on that thing mate. Holy crap this thing is fast! We might have to get one of these too.”

They laughed all the way to the end of the lap while Max started drifting through the last turns. 

“Oh jeepers that was mental.” Daniel crawled out of the van, comically pretending to kiss the asphalt while Max rolled his eyes and took off his helmet.

“It wasn't that bad, I think.” 

“This is why I drive when we're going anywhere!” Daniel laughed at Max's grin.

“No, this is why Blake drives.” Max needled then ran off with a laugh when Daniel lunged after him.

[ittybluebell]

Matt Murdock and Borrowers

i can only speak for the show specifically because i haven't read the comics, but engrained in daredevil's story is commentary about the effects of capitalism, power, and greed on the lower class. matt tries to combat this through the law, but even he knows the law is flawed and favours the rich and powerful. matt needs to help people - that's just how he is. the nelson & murdock office was literally going under due to matt, karen, and foggy taking payments in other forms besides monetarily (baked goods, for example) because they know the people who NEED help often can't afford it. all three of them are bleeding hearts who understand injustice and fight it day and night

with that in mind, how does it influence matt's interactions with borrowers? specifically with goldfinch, the protagonist of my daredevil g/t concept

matt knows that goldfinch is taking things. cloth and other little objects are going missing, but most notable is the food. they're taking necessities to survive. he recognizes that this is someone in need, someone who matt can help without putting on a suit, whether it be armoured or a two-piece. he leaves crumbs by the entrances frequented by finch. he pretends he doesn't notice their little heists, which leads to them becoming outrageously overconfident and quite literally stealing (*cough*borrowing) under his nose. he's shocked and impressed by finch's lack of fear (or perhaps a lack of self-preservation), but also amused at how much they're underestimating him

underneath the genuine saviour complex, matt is fascinated by their existence. he's so curious to know more. and can you blame the guy? a tiny person just four-inches-tall. how? where did they come from? he has a mini faith crisis, but that gets pushed down to unpack later (never, if he can help it)

matt empathizes with finch. living in a world not designed for you is a struggle he knows very well. 'super-senses' this and that, yada-yada - doesn't change the fact that he is blind. he can't read visual language or pictures; he can't see lights or colours; he struggles to operate technology and touch-screens are only getting more prevalent. if he isn't disregarded or patronized, he's infantilized. and matt is determined not to belittle finch. they may be small, smaller than his hand, but they're not helpless

MORE UNDER THE CUT!!

that said, it definitely takes a learning curve: he's protective over this tiny person. it's a big world, and they could be easily hurt. he doesn't intervene when they're climbing furniture and shit because, hey, he does parkour nightly. who's he to stop them? they have it handled. but when finch starts leaving the apartment and being out in the streets? hoooo boy. goldfinch can be cocky and reckless, especially in dangerous situations (matt's begging them to value their life a bit more and finch is just astounded at his lack of self-awareness), and matt so badly wants to put them in a little pouch where they'll be safe (he won't; they made an agreement)

don't even get me started on when frank finds out about goldfinch. dear god. matt wants castle nowhere near them

when the other defenders discover finch exists, matt is wary (more than finch, funnily enough). he didn't want them to know. these people are fighters (pot, kettle) with super strength: borrowers are extremely breakable and more people knowing increases the risk of finch getting hurt (also increases their protection, little does he know). luke is his gentlemanly self, giving finch space and genuinely interested in them as a person, but danny has trouble with boundaries and can be a little much (finch stabs him. he learns). they're both very careful. beyond the surprise, jessica is her indifferent (read: depressed) self. she's kind of unsettled, actually, and doesn't want to go anywhere near finch. this could be for a multitude of reasons (angst, uncanniness of a tiny person, etc) but all finch cares about is one less bean crowding them. holy shit, they thought one was bad...

more on foggy, karen, claire, colleen, misty, and frank with goldfinch in the future :3 i'm gettin the whole gang together bc defenders' group dynamics are my playground and i simply must have g/t interactions with them

matt keeps goldfinch a secret. of course he does - secrets are his jam. after meeting finch and learning about tiny people, he starts discerning smaller voices that he thought were merely distant; noticing little movements he mistook for rodents. one night he's out daredevil'ing, he rescues a borrower from a raccoon and that borrower tells others that the human vigilante with horns saved them. matt hears birds flying closer than ever, following him; perched like they're observing him. little voices whispering about the devil. word travels fast through the borrower network and borrowers in the area start to panic. finch has to run interference and reconnect with the community they left behind before this panic gets out of hand

matt keeps an ear out for borrowers like any citizen who might need help. finch acts as an advocate to vouch on his behalf because a big, scary human looking straight out of a nightmare isn't the greatest impression on borrower-kind. they're working on it

this went in a different direction than i originally planned. i swear i was going to write about the parallels of borrowers with the growing endemic of houselessness and poverty related to increased 'crime', and matt murdock struggling to uphold the law while also knowing the law fails and persecutes so many disadvantaged people, but i got carried away with interpersonal relationships. i'm actually so intrigued by borrowers being a critique of ableism, classism, and capitalism

[emo-crowgirl]

Headcanons about Danny

Trans of gender.

He was ecstatic when he went ghost for the first time and discovered that his ghost form was male.

When he’s feeling a ton of gender dysphoria he likes to turn into phantom and just relax for a bit.

Since he’s a halfa and not a full ghost, he doesn’t have a main obsession. He still has an obsession but what that obsession is can change from day to day. Some days he’s obsessed with protecting Amity Park to the point where he’ll stay awake all night on patrol, some days he’s more obsessed with space and spends the night stargazing and not paying as much attention on patrol and sometimes he has no obsessions at all.

Because he has no set obsession he can get extremely invested in whatever he’s trying to do to the point where he’ll seriously overdo it.

Has Lichtenberg scars across his entire left arm from the portal accident.

He doesn’t have much feeling in his left arm either.

When in his ghost form, the scars from the accident are much more extensive, covering a large amount of his body as well as his arm.

His ghost from is much more different than his human form than we are shown in the show.

Phantom has a different body shape.

Phantom appears slightly taller than Fenton.

Phantom’s hair appears floaty, as if it is unaffected by gravity

Phantom’s voice is more echoey, a bit deeper and has a just, inhuman effect to it, like an indescribable effect that just feels wrong.

No one knows that his full name is “Danny Phantom”. Everyone apart from Sam and Tucker just calls him Phantom.

Danny’s ghost form is a banshee, which is a pretty rare type of ghost. (Got the headcanon from tumblr user floralflowerpower: https://floralflowerpower.tumblr.com/post/651468715687313408/you-know-whats-been-bothering-me-all-morning)

He is the ghost king, but in title only. The ghost zone has worked just fine without a central government for eons and Danny defeating the ghost king isn’t really going to change that. He is still the ghost king and can and will be summoned by anyone who attempts to summon pariah dark, much to their (and Danny’s) confusion, but in the long run it’s more of a figurehead position than anything.

Danny is referred to as “The banshee king” in some parts of the ghost zone. The title of “The banshee king” is also used in some ghost zone text to differentiate him from pariah dark, who is referred to as just “the king” in most old texts.

The crown of fire floats above Danny’s head, invisible. When Danny gets extremely angry or upset in ghost form it flares into visibility, burning bright above his head to remind people just who they’re dealing with.

When Danny uses his ghostly wail his scars glow underneath his hazmat suit and the crown of fire appears above him.

Like all halfas, Danny has no heartbeat in human form and has a normal human heartbeat in ghost form, which is disturbing for both humans and ghosts.

One of the reasons skulker hunts Danny instead of the other two halfas is because Danny is simply more rare and valuable than the others. Think about it.

Danny is a halfa. (Only three exist)

Danny is a banshee. (Rare)

Danny is the ghost king. (Only one in existence)

[alphalavenderstar2]

So i've seen. An au on this site, forgot who posted it (It had batman in it, I know. Loved that post.) but they gave me inspiration. Listen to me when i say. All halfa trio. All half. Dead. Halfas. Danny, Tucker, and Sam all going into the portal-- HC where it's more of a tunnel than a portal, actually--and each gaining different ghost powers.

The idea on the three of them being halfas is so cool to me. It has so much potential. So much bonding and angst. Random shananagins. More powers to play with, Danny probably having more time to persue his space hobbies. It's a win win.

Y'all can scrap over if they put on matching hazmat suits or not, (with or without the hazmat hoods/covers) but I wanna explain how if the Halfa Trio used masked hazmat suits, it would be halarious.

Like, actual hazmat suits with the hood covering thingies on them. Because it'd be so funny to see 3 ghost vigilantes in matching hazmats. Amity thinking that there's a ghost vigillante, but BOOM. Suddenly three (half) ghost vigillantes. Complete Ghost Busters vibes. They'd steal Fenton Works Ghost Flamethrowers for the asthetic. Ghost busting vaccums, too. Removable hoods on the hazmat suits, because Tucker dislikes the stuffyness, but Sam (and Danny) insists that they do good deads without putting their identities into the spotlight. (In case someone recognises them) Even if it is pretty stuffy. It'd make Danny think of an astronaut suit so he'd obviously be more comfy than the other two. They'd have shared powers like intangibility and flight, but also have personal powers like Sam's plant power. (I'm gonna use this as an excuse to put more space themed Danny in, admitably.)

Oh, also under the cut here is a more detailed bit about this au, from the POV of a GIW agent or something, writing a report to their superior. Idk, whatever y'all wanna imagine.

_______________________________________________

Amity was at war with itself over the first one. It's citizens believing that the different acounts were wrong. When one described their encounter with the ectoplasmic being, a few agreed, while others claimed that they had seen something different. The same suit, but a different being inside. That it sounded more feminen, not masculine. Or that they had short white hair that floated within the suit, not that they had a close shave. The being appeared more often, changing seemingly each time to one of it's three forms. theories that the ghost was a shapeshifter under the suit spread.

But then the second one showed up. And the third. All present at the same time. The citizens were baffled by the sudden change. The conclusion to my findings about the newfound 'hazmat ghost' is that there is actually three different ectoplasmic beings wearing identical hazmat suits, possibly purposely putting citizens under the guise that only one existed.

-THIS DOCUMENT IS UNDER REVISION. UNKNOWN INFORMATION WILL BE MARKED FOR FURTHER INVESTIGATION.-

It's hard to tell which one is which--unless they are in close proximidy to you, (which is highly unadviced) or by studying their vocals; unique eldritch sounding voices, muffled by the suits. But still somehow understandable when they need it to be. To us. Their chirps, trills, and what could only be described as something between growling and rocks being grinded together. Loud, heavy huffs.

While they can speak english to residents, they tend to speak to other ectoplasmic beings in "Ghost Speak". However, they don't verbally talk much to each other. A sort of mental connection could be at play between the three--that or they're obsurdly good at reading body langauge. It wouldn't be surprising, considering how.... close, they act.

"Ghost speak" in this case is unlikely, as while some pronounciations in "Ghost Speak" are several octaves lower and higher than any normal human's hearing range, static and several pronounciations are still heard. No such static or mumbling is heard when they interact in this way. The three entities seem to get most points across despite any worded context.

Attempts at recording their voices have all backfired, the requred technology unable to work properly around them (?).

They each seem to have different powers as well, a personal touch to their afterlife (?). One might come across an 'ecto fight' and place bets on vines cracking out of the ground and attacking the rival ghost, only to guess wrong; to ice spreading violently towords the perpretrator.

Spikes that shine in some places and pale in others; clear, a bright sky blue, a deep azure, or a dull, misty hue that holds the same cold as the void of space, or mercury at night. A poular yet idodic challenge between Amity youth is to touch said ice. Many reports of hospitilized teens with frostbite in the middle of summer have raised a few eyebrows between health officials. It's adviced to snuff out this trend when one comes across it.

The town acknoledges it as 'Phantom's' cyrocinetics, having seen the being with "fluffy (?) hair and pale as hell skin" ([REDACTED] witness report) blast freely on multiple occations. For reasons unknown, he (?) struck the hearts of many children (?) attending the local highschool, Casper High. Witnesses state that he (?) is fequently seen stargazing when Amity's gravity goes topsyturvy. The entity is able to lift objects when concentrating without physically touching them, and can manipulate the speed and direction of said object, seeming to defy Newton's laws. His (?) floating white hair appears to brush into his eyes a lot. Unnaterally pale skin, but a different shade than the hair. The green of his (?) eyes are the color of ectoplasim. The Fentons theorize on his possible obsession about space (?).

'Banshee' is the being which controls vines and various other living and non-living plant species. She (?) was nicknamed after seen loudly advocating against global warming and the removal of trees in Amity Park's playground. Many people fell into a sort of heavily ecouraged state after her (?) speech, racing to plant saplings in the middle of town. A popular misconception is that the being was named so because of her (?) 'ghostly wail', but the other ectoplasmic beings dawning hazmat suits also have shown the ability to retch a hollowing, painful scream. Her's, (?) however, seems to be slightly more powerful due to the 'encouraging' power behind it. She (?) is suspected to keep updated on human political views for unknown reasons (?). Pale skin. She (?) seems to have shortly cut white hair, around a couple inches from her shoulders. Green eyes. Possible obsession on spreading awareness, or plants. The expance of either obsession is unknown, however.

'Poltergeist' is rarely seen, seeming to be more of a support figure behind the scenes. It was noted in one particular scuffle, however, that he (?) had electric based powers. It's assumed that he (?) also has an advantage over tech, simular to 'Technus', an ectoplasmic revnent obsessed with human technology. The two seem to have a special sort of rivalry. Specialists brought in to observe their battles state that they butt heads through many different places physically in the internet, infecting the other's code with different viruses, bugs, and cyber attacks. Several well known games, apps, websites, and forums often fall prey to the duo's crossfire, causing momentary shutdowns. His (?) head is closely shaved, dark skin and a notably wide nose. His (?) eyes are green, same as the other two. Likely a tech obsession.

Ectoblasts, body manipulation, transparency, intangibility, flight, and their ghostly wails are all shared powers between the three ectoplasmic beings, along with the hazmat suits and stolen Fenton Works tech (?). Their blood runs green, ectoplasim in their veins. No other autonomy studies have been done on these particular beings.

It's obvious the relationship between the Fenton family, or the parents, at least, and the paranormal is a spiteful one. Even while wearing the Fenon's appearale, and often spotted with their weaponry. This tends to upset Drs Fentons. The Fenton's theorize that ectoplasmic beings are unable to possess feelings, and form from and by ectoplasim, sometimes apearing more humane than others. The Fenton's hypothesis is quite biased, but it makes our job easier in the long run.

_______________________________________________

Ok ok, so I named Tucker 'Poltergeist' because He and Danny's last names both start with 'F', and how 'P' can sound just like 'F' on certain pronounciations. I thought it would be a neat little comparison. That and it sounds like a name a paranormal person(nerd) would correct someone about all the time if they called it a ghost. I'm a bit hesitant to name Sam 'Banshee', because I know that while Sam can be a bit over enthusiastic about stuff, but it seems a little harsh, maybe? From amity's POV it makes sense, but I'm not sure. Let me know in the comments on Her and Tucker's names, and what you all would name them. I'd love to hear y'all's opinions. (Dani would go by Wraith, I think. That's what the phandom usually nicknames her, right?)

I also have an au with them wearing normal clothes. Basically, they have to do a lot of expirimenting with different clothes and how the colors invert after going ghost, and eventually figure out the right colors to pick for specially made hero suits.

Technically kinda not my au tho cause it was based on this one halfa trio au I saw and loved. (And made a dumb comment on but im going to ignore for my sake.) But if you see their post make sure to spread the love on there too.

Hhhhhhhh too lazy to spell check just gonna send this out now gonna ignore any mistakes throwing this post at y'all like im feeding sharks.

im am rotating them in my brain like they are in a mini microwave. Im sorry it's too late for me to turn. back. Would love to see more of this stuff.

But Idk, let me know in the comments about anything. How you like the au, how you think things would go, add ons.

[quirkless-accident]

Pre!accident Danny: im going to be a space themed quirkless hero!

Post!accident Danny who is forced to be ghost/supernatural themed hero: DAMNIT!!!

"What kind of hero do you wanna be, Sho?" Danny asked as he hiked his backpack higher. Shouta just shrugged as he lazily kicked a rock as they walked.

It was a bright, sunny day, but the breeze kept it from being to hot. The smell of spring was in the air, and Danny couldn't help but take in a big, deep breath before letting it out, satisfied despite the way the movement made him wince from the cut around his eye.

"I don't like people," Shouta said after a moment. "Or the media. I don't care about being big and famous and rich. I just want to help people without all of the theatrics."

"There's a category for that, isn't there? What are they called again?"

"Underground heroes," Shouta answered.

"You'd be perfect for that. Especially with your quirk, it's probably best suited for that kind of stuff anyway."

"What about you?" Shouta asked, dodging the compliment. Danny's face split in two, because if there was one thing he enjoyed talking Shouta's ear off about it was being a hero. Or an astronaut. So the answer that came from Danny's mouth wasn't really a huge surprise to him.

"I'm gonna be a cool space themed hero! I don't care for the media either, and I'm quirkless so I won't be able to fight in big villain fights like All Might or anything. Maybe we could go underground together? We could be an underground duo!"

Shouta did not point out the fact that that was practically unheard of. All underground heroes worked solo for the majority of their careers, only ever teaming up due to circumstances beyond their control. Still, though, Danny was strong and fast, and much more calculating than he gave himself credit for. It wouldn't be a bad idea to do their hero work together.

"What are you gonna call yourself?" Shouta asked. "If it's space themed then maybe after a star or planet?"

"I was thinking maybe Mars? But I don't know if I look good in that shade of red, you know? Maybe moon themed, but there's a million heroes out there that are moon themed. I don't wanna accidentally get confused with any of them."

"Why not that space ship you're always going on about?"

"I go on about a lot of space ships, Shouta. You're going to have to be more specific."

"The-I don't know. They made it into a movie forever ago?"

"Oh!" Danny said excitedly. He flapped his hands excitedly as he bounced in step next to Shouta, who was giving his friend a tiny smile. "You mean the Apollo 13! That could totally be my hero name! I'd need a cool underground costume, though. Maybe one with lots of armor, and-oh what if I had a cool mask, too! I can make it like the oxygen masks that they used and it could filter out gross stuff and sleeping gases and stuff. Shouta, you're a genius!"

Shouta did not agree to the statement, but he knew better than to say such a thing in front of his friend, lest he receive his aggressive unconditional love.

"Yeah, whatever," Shouta said, rolling his eyes and failing to hide his smile. "Just don't pick anything to bright."

-----------

"Well," Shouta said as he looked Danny up and down. It had been a month since the accident, and Danny was finally starting to get a hang of his powers. "I'm sorry, Danny."

"What? Why?" Danny asked, confused as he floated closer towards Shouta.

"You won't be able to be a spaced themed hero anymore."

He watched as Danny's face speedran through the five stages of grief before circling back around to stop at anger. His whole face contorted as he grunted in frustration.

"Fuck!"

[thatrandomsarahchick]

This works even better if the GIW aren't even a real/official government agency, because the anti-ecto acts didn't pass.

The GIW were privately funded to start off with and jump the gun because they thought that the law would pass so retroactively, their actions would be legal, but it didn't pass and they covered it up by pretending it did.

After the town got sucked into another dimension, the Justice League finally found out what's been going on in Amity. Turns out, literally nobody had called them. Well, there was that one call during the Lunch Lady situation, but then the person called back and retracted their claim. It was Dash.

Anyway, Raven and Captain Marvel get sent to check out the huge energy disturbance in Illinois and get there just as the town is brought back. They witness Danny collapsing on the ground in a suit of armour, trying to get it off even as he passes out, and rush over to help.

Not long after they get him out of the armour, a metal boomerang flies out of nowhere and hits him on the head, closely followed by a red-haired teen who's sprinting after it. Jazz pushes Raven out of the way and starts checking over Danny's vitals. It's only once she ascertains that he's ok that she finally pays attention to the two adults who had been helping him before.

"Sorry for being rude, I'm Jazz. Who are you, and why are you in my town?"

Once she finds out that they're from the Justice League and have no idea what's going on, Jazz gets Captain Marvel to carry her brother carefully back to their house as she gives them the quick run down on what happened.

A quick call to the Watchtower confirms that the GIW is lying about the law and hunting the supernatural like that is illegal. It's not illegal to be a ghost hunter, but there are official rules and procedures to it, as was outlined in the third revision of the meta protection law.

Further investigation by both the JL and JLD figures out that Vlad is Plasmius and has been using his abilities to cheat others out of millions of dollars. He's arrested and put in special suppression cuffs that block his abilities but don't harm him.

The Fenton parents are found to be racist (speciest? I'm not sure the right word) against supernatural creatures and annoying, but technically haven't broken any laws in their hunting. They're registered ghost hunters and haven't ever caught anything more advanced than a blob ghost.

As parents, though? They're found to be incompetent. The house is riddled with weapons, the kitchen is practically dripping in radioactive contamination, and it's clear after just one conversation that they regularly neglect their children for days on end because they get so wrapped up in science. In addition to this, their comments on meta-humans make it abundantly clear that Danny would not be safe here if he came forth about his abilities.

Jack and Maddie are sentenced to mandatory counselling and meetings with non-biased supernatural experts. Their ghost hunting licenses are suspended until they can prove that they've changed and their children are taken until they can provide a safe living space. It is recommended to have a separate building to live in than the one they work in, but if they can get their house up to code, then that will be fine too.

A barrier is placed around the Fenton portal, containing the radiation so that it doesn't continue to seep out into the living realm and to stop ghosts from passing through without permission. Anything wanting to pass through the barrier must be wearing a specially enchanted amulet. Vlad's portal is turned off and dismantled. Having not been powered by a human sacrifice, it's much easier to deactivate.

The GIW quickly went to ground, leaving only a small portion of 'scapegoats' to be arrested. Unfortunately, this meant that Danny was no longer safe in Amity Park and couldn't continue to stay with the foster parent he and Jazz had been sent to (Mr. Lancer). Conversations were had, and it was decided that he should go with Batman to Gotham. He would be safest there hiding amongst all the other Waynes, and the vigilantes would be able to protect themselves if they were attacked.

It was a bit of an adjustment at first, but he was able to chat with his friends daily via heavily encrypted phones (Tucker fainted when he was given his), and his sister was thriving in Star City with Black Canary. She was able to use the Zeta tube to come visit him in Gotham on weekends, and they were actually much closer now that she wasn't having to parent him as well as be his sister.

Of course, this is Danny's life, and his things never last forever.

He'd been with the Waynes for a few weeks when they asked him to come to the end of Summer Gala with the family. It would be a great chance to officially introduce him to the city, and he could meet some of the elite children he'd be going to school with, which would hopefully offer him some protection from bullying.

Danny agreed and sat through their do and don't lessons, pretending this was all new to him. It would be really funny to see their faces when he perfectly acts like a snobby rich kid - Sam was the best teacher there. The night was going well so far. Danny was enjoying the bafflement these people poorly concealed at his perfect behaviour. He knew they were trying to figure out his quirk and refused to give it up that easily... to bad Agents O and K ruined it for him. They broke down the door and started firing wildly into the crowd, covering several expensive gowns in green goop before demanding that he give himself up.

Well, it's time to show everyone my gimmick, he thought, grabbing a full bottle of something alcoholic from a waiter's tray as it passed him by. He took several large gulps before smashing it against Agent L's head and shouting, "viva la revolution!" In poorly accented French.

He grinned at Damian, who had just been complaining about wanting to leave, before sprinting over to the nearest (bulletproof) window and smashing his way out of the building.

I kinda want danny who's been adopted by the wanyes to be schmoozing it up at a gala (because listen nothing is funnier than the image of Gotham elites being like oh whats this one's gimmick cus all the other's have something only for danny to just be a dude) only for like the giw to raid the place to get danny ( cus he's a ghost? Cus he's a Fenton? Who knows)

Only for danny to pick up a bottle chug it smash it and vault out a window shouting you'll never catch me alive

Now this increases his reputation with most Gothamites and rouges and absolutely worries the fuck out of the batfam why is the government chasing you danny and hiw are you so good at running

[scientifically-strange]

New Kid

The new kid wasn't anything special, Rogue decided. Sure, he got along well enough with everybody, but he didn't have a big presence. Since he got to the institute, he's maybe said two words.

Mr. Logan said that he's a friend of his, and that they should respect him and give him space. How Mr. Logan made friends with a kid outside of the school, Rogue would never know.

To be honest, Rogue was a little creeped out by Danny. he was always watching them, and anytime anybody moved to quickly he would always flinch. He couldn't trust them enough not to hurt them. They never would, not unless he started it, of course, but it was still annoying to be thought of as a villain.

On top of that, he like, never sleeps. The bags under his eyes are huge, and he always looks so exhausted. She thinks he has some kind of ice power, because anytime she's near him the temperature drops at least ten degrees. At night it's even worse. She swears to Kitty that she saw frost creeping up on the wall that separates their rooms.

Currently he was sitting near the window where Mr. Logan was sitting as he read the morning newspaper. He was looking down at his food, but not really eating it. He did, however, down his coffee in record time. It hadn't even cooled down yet. Logan looked over briefly as he set the cup down a little too hard, and rolled his eyes.

--------

Danny knew he was being weird. He knew he was being as antisocial and he should at least try talking to someone other than Logan, but he just didn't have the energy to do so. He's been there a month and has barely slept a wink because every time he closed his eyes he saw his mother standing over him, a flash of silver in her hand, and then-

No. not here. Not anymore. He wasn't going to let what they did to him stop him from having a somewhat normal life. In a school full of other people like him. Except they weren't really, were they? They were all born with their powers, they have the special gene. He was just stupid enough to get into a lab accident. He's not a mutant, he's a freak.

He stayed in the kitchen until everybody but he and Logan filed out. He enjoyed the quiet only when there was somebody else with him. If he was alone without a distraction then he would start thinking about them, and he really, really didn't want to do that.

"You know, you can talk to them," Logan said from his place on the windowsill.

"Sorry, was I brooding to loud for you?" Danny shot back. His snark was reflexive, and it was the only thing he had going for him at this point. Logan though, he just raised an eyebrow at him. There was no judgement, just an understanding. Danny supposed that if anybody was going to, it would be Logan. "Sorry," he said for real this time. "It's just...Hard."

"I know, Casper."

-------

"Woah, is that a new suit?" Nightcrawler asked as Danny finally stepped into the Danger Room with them. Danny nodded. Professor Xavier really outdid himself with this one.

His new suit was the simple black and white he preferred, but it was short sleeved with protective armor added in, and a pair of fingerless gloves. There was a bright green X on his shoulder pads and chest.

"Yeah. Pretty cool, right?"

"For sure. You ready for your first trip in the Danger Room?"

"Let's get started."

----

It was supposed to be a simple training exercise.

Danny had gotten knocked down, and Rogue, who had just finished borrowing Kurt's power, helped him up. He had reflexively tightened his grip, and he couldn't let her go. She just kept taking and taking and taking until the edges of Danny's vision started turning black.

There was a grip around his wrist and his hand was suddenly empty, but there was a grip around his wrist and they wouldn't let go, they wouldn't let go-

Then there was a pulse in his head, and his whole world went dark.

-------

When Danny woke up, the lights weren't the blinding, fluorescent lights he was used to. In fact, they were all off, save for a small lamp sitting on the nightstand.

"I had them turn it off," a voice said. Danny turned his head weakly. Rouge was sitting there, twiddling with her gloves. "I...I know why you don't like them."

"You do?" He asked. His voice was quiet, weak. Rouge only nodded, not meeting him in the eye.

"When I touch people, I can gain their physical abilities...And also there memories. I...I know what happened to you."

"Oh," Danny said, because what else was there to say? So you know about my parents ripping me apart molecule by molecule? How do you feel? Do you wanna talk about it? Somehow Danny figured that wasn't really gonna work out.

"I won't tell anybody. I know that's what you're worried about," she said, finally meeting his eyes.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, anytime. But I do have one question."

"Yeah?"

"Did you really meet Wolverine by falling on top of him in your underwear?"

For the first time in a month Danny smiled. It wasn't one of those big ear-to-ear grins, but it felt real, and that was more than he could ask for. He chuckled a little as he sat up, turning to Rogue because it was a hilarious story.

"Okay," he said. "So this natural portal dropped me off somewhere in the bumfuck of Canada..."

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

Transformers Siege (WFC) character review!(1/2)

Instead of separating from decepticons and autobots (mainly because of the Predacons and maximals), I’m going to put them in order of which bots I really feel like talking about the most! So, here we go!

*watch for swearing, spoilers, and possible thirst.

/Also, alt modes will NOT be available for this series. They kinda don’t transform too much, and when they do, they hardly let me get a shot, sooo/

Optimus Prime!!; 

This Optimus did a full 180 for not only my opinion, but for his own characterization. This Optimus started out as impulsive, reckless, ignorant of other’s opinions, and quite frankly, was just frustrating to deal with. He was the one who essentially sent the Cybertron into a total fuck storm, and as such, doomed MANY lives, including the one of his love, Elita one. Honestly, Optimus is kinda. Dumb, honestly? He literally sent the live source of Cybertron into the vastness of space, just to keep Megatron from winning the war. Literally, EVERYONE hated him at the start, from Bumblebee to Ratchet. Then, get this- he learned from his mistakes. From Skylynx, to the Optimus Primal, to the soul of Elita, to Optimus and Ratchet and even Megatron- he had so many influences telling him what he did wrong. Towards the end of the series, he became the classic, noble, somewhat self conscious mech we all grew to know and love. Honestly? 9/10. He isn’t perfect. Far from it, but damn Optimus KNOWS this, and that’s so great- I can go all day, you guys (also that one moment where he asked Megatron to forgive him at gunpoint, such a good fucking scene).

Elita one!!; 

I love her. SO much. She’s a QUEEN. She has been ignored, she has been held hostage, she’s been punched and kicked and shot at-my girl has been through hell. And she carries it WELL. Not only is she FINE, but she is bold, smart, and she is STUBBORN in her beliefs. She is also a natural born leader, and I honestly and really appreciate her. Her death was honestly one of the sadder moments, but her soul’s reunion with Optimus was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen. I wish we saw more of her, honestly and desperately (plus she has so many character interactions, there’s SO many ways you can go about her character, it’s incredible). 10/10 my girl is a fighter and she was so ride or die for Optimus (even though I lowkey ship her with those three little cons, ya’ll know the ones) 💕.

Megatron!!(Siege);

Every Megatron has something different about them. For example, this series has two Megatron’s (three because Galvatron), but we’re talking about the Megatron that we start the series with. The sort of ‘G1’ Megatron. This Megatron has a few...issues. Lips aside, this Megatron has a few things I’d change about him. He’s insane, he’s incredibly selfish, and honestly? His character interactions leave something to be desired, in my opinion. However, he does have a blend of good traits. You guys remember Prime Wars Megatron? How this man refused to go down without being ‘fuck you’ to his opponent? This Megatron had those moments, telling Galvatron right the fuck off when he tried to present him with a decision to join him. I love a Megatron that refuses to back down. I also appreciated the regret he clearly has for stuff he did (we all remember what happened to that one power plant), and I appreciate that In a Megatron. Couple that with the pompous villain aesthetic (he had his own pictures hung up on a wall for fucks sakes). However, he isn’t my favorite Megatron (that’s a tie between Prime/Prime Wars Megatron). 7/10. Fun in some cases, but not someone I think I’ll deem my favorite Megatron.

Megatron!!(beast wars);

This Megatron was kinda doomed from the start. From the issue with his VA (not everyone can be David Kaye, but still), to the odd way he simped over the other Megatron, kinda made me dislike seeing him on the screen. Don’t me wrong, he wasn’t AWFUL, and like everyone else on the show he LOOKED good and his VA did...okay. Listen, he had a REALLY good simp voice. But beast wars Megatron actually saw the old Megatron as an old fool. Now he suddenly worships him? It kinda makes this Megatron look pathetic, and I’m not really into it. 4/10. I’m sorry, but I appreciated him more when he wasn’t on screen.

Ironhide!!; 

He did like. Nothing in this series. He only really spoke to tell Optimus what he did. He’s just so cute and I liked hearing him speak. Not the same Ironhide voice, but still I love him terribly 10/10 he is but a baby waby.

Sideswipe!!;

He did like, two things in total in this series, and BOTH made me feel something. He also misses his brother Sunny and it honestly hurt me. Someone hold and support him, 8/10 this precious bundle of red-

Skyfire!!;

This Skyfire actually starts off as not only a decepticon, but a HIGH ranking decepticon, pretty much Megatron’s second hand. He was pretty decepticon motivated, up until Megatron decided the whole genocide of an entire race was too much for her. Honestly his role was a LOT like MTMTE Impactor in this series. A close believer changed to the opposite side, because Megatron’s dumbass got carried away. This Skyfire died, but up until that, he was determined to help the cause. He was literally willing to have a bomb implanted into him just to prove he was with the autobots. He was bold, stubborn, and everyone he interacted with was GREAT. 8/10. Tbh, probably my second favorite Skyfire (hard to compete with Cyberverse).

Impactor!!;

Pretty much the first time I’ve seen him in a show (at least noticeably) and I appreciated his little debut here. Impactor betrayed the decepticon, and in the best way possible. Not because he thought the cause was wrong, but because he got a super hot medic boyfriend, who JUST so happens to be an autobot. Seriously, ratchet fixed his booboos and Impactor just went ‘Listen I’d die for you’. Did anyone but Ratchet trust him? Nope. Did Mirage like him? Nope. Did we give a shit because he was very literally, ride or die for Ratchet? Also nope. Like this dude deadass was willing to go through the ‘we don’t trust decepticons’ bullshit, JUST because Ratchet swept him off his feet. 10/10, Impactor didn’t deserve to die, he deserved to be the hostile gay to suit the hostile lesbian that was Blackarachnia. 💜

Ratchet!!;

This Ratchet was like. The ONLY Ratchet I’ve ever seen, who just fucking hated Optimus. Seriously, this dude just wanted to be alone with his husband. Wanted NO part of Optimus, no part of Bumblebee, NO ONE. He’s sarcastic, bitter, and he WILL give you shit over Impactor or any of his patients. He’s a sour/sweet old man and even though I wish I saw him more, I love him and adore him with my big ol’ heart. 9/10, everyone can eat my ass I’m not over Impactor still.

Wheeljack!!;

Chaotic bastard. Smartass, dumbass, gay ass, and the first character to say ‘ass’, I love him. He doesn’t play much in terms of actual plot stuff (he’s like, a support character tbh) but the few times he was on screen, I loved him. It was like someone gave Danny Devito a PHD. 8/10, just needed to be able to give more one liners like he deserved.

[datawyrms]

Irresistible

For PhicPhight! On Ao3

“Earth to clueless one, walking through walls isn’t something you should be doing right now!” Sam’s hiss made him notice the fact something had grabbed his wrist.

“Right, sorry!” He said it without thinking, eyes flicking to Tucker. His other friend looked just as concerned, great. “I don’t think I got enough sleep.”

“When do you ever, dude? You didn’t even sneak out last night.” Still, his more technically inclined friend released his wrist. “Something your parents working on keeping you up?”

“You know we’re fine if you crash in our rooms.” Sam was a little less gentle. “So do that instead of whatever sleepwalking this is.”

“No! Like, I don’t remember not being able to sleep or anything?” Not that it helped, he felt like he’d been awake all night thanks to the weird dreams. “I swear I’m not being a tough guy or whatever.” He rubbed at his forehead, privately wishing his fingers could just push away the fog of exhaustion instead of just making him more aware of how sluggish he felt.

“Maybe you should crash with one of us anyway? You don’t look good.” Tucker’s frown only made the half ghost grumble. “‘Course you never look as good as me, but lately? You’re pulling the two thirds ghost look.”

“Harhar.” He shrugged the suggestion off, even if he was pretty tempted. There wasn’t anything weird in the house that he noticed, and his parents weren’t being any more anti-ghost then usual. He probably slept in a weird position or something. “I don’t think weird underwater dreams are a Fentonworks exclusive.”

“Underwater?” Sam just looked puzzled. “From what? I can’t even remember the last time any of us went swimming.”

“How should I know?” He couldn’t even say it was like flying, because it wasn’t like one of those dreams at all. Too sluggish, none of the freedom he normally felt. “I’ll just nap in math class…”

It had been a joke, really. He didn’t actually mean to sleep in math class, but his desk was cool and his head felt so heavy that he couldn’t resist nodding off. He just wished it had helped more, the bell ringing just made him want to sink into the floor and stay there. Which would probably freak everyone out. Not a good idea. At least the stern talking to he earned for ‘being disrespectful’ went right over his head with it so hazy.

“Dude. Just skip if you’re gonna sleep all day.” Tucker was poking him in the face with a fork. Rude.

“I’m not gonna sleep all day. Relax.” The tines were annoying, but doing more than blindly pushing it away from him was beyond him for the moment.

“Spacing out all day isn’t any better.” Sam’s voice wasn’t a surprise, but the fact she wasn't telling Tucker to stop poking him in the face was.

“I’m not.”

“Tucker’s been poking you for five minutes.”

“Oh.” Really? Hadn’t felt like that. Maybe he had like a ghost cold?

“Just go hide out in the attic, you obviously need it.” The poking stopped, Tucker’s voice low as if he’d leaned closer.

“Can’t miss even more stuff guys…you know that.” Even if he really, really wanted to take that offer right now.

“Well here you’ll just get the teachers angry by snoozing through class. We’ll try and see what’s messing with you after school.”

“Nothing’s messing with me! I think.” His objection wasn’t great, but Sam didn’t seem up to argue with him about it anyway.

Tucker adjusted his hat, avoiding his eyes. “Kinda hope something is, you’re kinda freaking us out.”

Well, that didn’t feel good. He scratched at the back of his head, trying to ignore how his friends kept looking at him like some kind of wounded kitten. He was fine, really! “Well uh. See you after school?” He didn’t give them time to answer before stumbling away from the table to find somewhere quiet to vanish from. He sort of hoped being in his ghost form would have shaken some of his muddled need for sleep, but being colder just made the throbbing behind his eyes feel worse. Not enough to keep him from keeping invisible and slipping into Tucker’s attic, but enough that becoming human again actually made him feel a little less ragged.

It shouldn’t be this easy to huddle in the musty old chair and drop off in the middle of the day. The guilt for doing so alone should make him twist and struggle to get comfortable, but sleep welcomed him eagerly. A part of him worried Nocturn was afoot, but it wasn’t enough to keep him awake.

“You think his parents made something that makes ghosts go dormant or something?”

“Or drain all their energy?

He kind of wanted to ignore the voices and keep sleeping, but shook himself awake. He didn’t need this much sleep, he was fine. If they were here he’d been sleeping for hours already!

“Sleeping beauty awakes.”

Danny rolled his eyes at Tucker’s attempt to pretend they hadn’t been talking about him. “You better not have kissed me.”

“If you kept sleeping for another hour he totally would have.” Sam smirk only grew when Tucker let out an offended squawk.

“Under duress!”

“The meat stench on your breath could wake the dead, so it had to be you.”

“Not dead yet, thanks…” Even if he’d been feeling tired enough to be a corpse today. “Anyone notice?”

“Told Lancer you were sick. He bought it.” Tucker shrugged, tossing a thermos between his hands. “You were really out of it huh?”

“Wait, was there an attack?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Sam snatched the thermos away, glaring at Tucker as she did so. “You stay here, we’ll check out your house.”

He’d just slept through a ghost attacking? Really? “No way, how would you explain why I’m not with you?”

“Easy. We’ll just say you are, they won’t notice.” The goth scoffed, already halfway to getting the attic door open. “If you can hide being a ghost, we can hide you not being there for an afternoon.”

She sort of had a point there. “Fine. You aren’t gonna find anything. If it was some new gadget I’d say so.”

He kind of hoped they’d prove him wrong, but the concerned and frustrated looks on their faces betrayed that there were no new plans or even an idea to what had gotten him ‘out of sorts’. It was probably just a one off thing anyway, he’d be fine. It wasn’t like his parents were bragging about a new discovery or anything. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep since he spent so much of the day doing so, though he was still tired...he actually looked forward to dinner being over so he could snuggle under his blankets and look at the little glowing stick on stars of his ceiling before drifting off again.

Only the dream came back. A small, pitiful ghost underwater while something kept calling at him. It wasn’t warm or inviting, more like the command from someone respected. The wisp of a creature couldn’t really ignore it either, it was like a pulse that burrowed inside and thrummed until he responded. They weren’t asking for much. Just wanted him to go hunt ghosts. He always did that anyway, that part was easy.

He didn’t like how the commanding one grabbed him under the chin at his return, but couldn’t find it in him to struggle. They were stronger than he was, he was a subordinate not strong enough to challenge them. A pair, stronger and unknowable with how they’d speak in a language he didn’t understand. He could only watch, green eyes wide for any hint of anger, wanting to make himself smaller, but the creature was little more than a shadow to begin with. Hunt, bring them the prey they wanted, and they’d allow him to exist. A fair trade, really. His core trembled at the idea the clawed hands at his face could easily sink into his chest, he couldn’t risk angering them. Their red eyes saw everything, knew everything. He didn’t want to be around them, but that call was too strong. Those eyes lurked on every surface, a burning red that cut through the weight of the water that was everything as if it wasn’t even there. Their commands became a sort of second skin, but didn’t protect him from the beings deciding to come uncomfortably close, or clutch his thin limbs and take something before letting him slip back into undefined chaos again.

He preferred being told to hunt. Leaving other ghosts, the smaller ones, lesser than even the inkblot he was in the universe to be looked over and examined while he remained mostly untouched. Still wispy, mostly undefined outside of his eyes, unlike the remains of those who ‘earned’ the greater ones full attention. No time to rest, just going and going until they claimed he’d done enough.

Being dismissed wasn’t a free pass to do as he pleased though. It was still a command, something he had to obey lest they show him why they were in charge. To go in hiding, be unseen, do nothing until they wanted him to hunt again. That should be easy, simple, but it made his tail ache and his heart lurch. He didn’t only want to hunt, he wanted to do not-ghost things.

Yet the figures didn’t care what a weaker ghost wanted to do. They’d find out. He had to hide.

Danny just felt exhausted. As if the dream had made him as tired as the ghost he was in that nightmare. Which couldn’t be true, he didn’t care about stronger ghosts and what they wanted. He’d fought the king of ghosts! He had a track record of flipping off authority when it suited him better. It didn’t push away the heavy weight in his head that only begged him to go back to sleep. Maybe he really was just sick.

Sick enough to get sent right back to bed by his mom when he slumped down for breakfast, her concern nice, but also discomforting. She held her hand at his forehead for a touch too long, seemed to stare into his eyes enough to make him want to avert them. Her gentle nudging to get some more sleep nearly had him bolting up the stairs. Like he had to go that moment. Rubbing at his temples didn’t dissuade the feeling, but the pressure lifted somewhat when he was back in bed and covered in blankets. Some stupid leftover feeling from that dream or something. He wasn’t hiding.

“Danny? You okay under there?” Jazz’s question just felt like a nail to his skull, and he hoped she could see the displeasure in his eyes as he poked out from under the blankets to glare at her.

“I might be if someone didn’t wake me up.” The sunlight peeking in from the windows only soured his mood, he should have closed the blinds.

“Well, someone’s grumpy.” Either she didn’t see his annoyance, or she was deliberately ignoring it. “Mom said you don’t have a fever, but you run pretty cold...do you want something for it?”

“It’s just a headache.”

“Sure, mister ‘I ignored a bone fracture’ is crippled by a headache. Not buying it.”

“That was meant to be a secret, who snitched?” His frustration just made him feel uncomfortably warm, they knew he hated it when Jazz fussed over that stuff. Maybe he should ignore their calls for a bit.

“No one did, I actually pay attention when you start favouring your left hand.” Her frown just made him want to duck back out of sight. “You sure you don’t need anything? Anything mom and dad wouldn’t think you need?”

For a smart person, Jazz could be incredibly unsubtle. “No. I’m just worn out, or something.” He didn’t feel like coughing or sneezing, or even the gurgling discomfort of an upset stomach. It couldn’t be that serious. “You’ll be late if you keep standing there.”

“Let us know if you think of anything!” She was already halfway down the hall while saying that, not getting to see how her brother rolled his eyes and ducked back under the blankets. Her biggest weakness, other obligations. Not that it would help after school. He’d be fine by then, probably. Just some peace and quiet and he’d be back to normal. Just like he said yesterday. Only for real this time. Positive thinking, or whatever.

He did feel a bit better now that it was quiet. Still tired, but his head wasn’t pounding as much as it was whenever someone insisted on talking to him.

He figured he’d just sleep, maybe play Doomed once he was more awake. Step one, sleeping had been going well, but Mom and Dad had other plans jeopardizing that. Since when did they listen to music while they worked? With enough base that he could feel it rattling his bones no less. Covering his ears couldn’t do much about that. Trying to ignore it, or hope they were just messing with something for a minute and it would stop wasn’t getting anywhere either. So why was he just hesitating up here? They probably didn’t even notice it was so loud, or forgot he was home sick. He shook his legs to try and wake them up after he wobbled with his first steps to the door. Maybe he could- no, there wasn’t any reason to just wait.

When had they gotten so many stairs anyway? Danny found himself gripping the railing as if he was seven again, worried about slipping as if he didn’t run down them two at a time normally. He hesitated at the bottom, eyes scanning the ground floor for a sign of the scientists. The awful noise didn’t seem much louder, but he felt every beat of it as his heart seemed to slip into sync. He didn’t want to risk more stairs, he was imagining things. He opened his mouth to speak, coughing instead over how dry it felt. Sleeping with his mouth open, duh. His second attempt went better, but was not as much of a shout as he planned it to be. “Mom? Dad? Can you turn it down?”

He waited. Nothing. It must be too loud for them to hear him over the din of that deafening pulse. Keeping one ear covered the boy edged to the lab’s staircase, staring down them as if he was looking from a mountaintop, a deadly drop. He so didn’t want to go down there, to go closer to whatever the heck it was. “Dad? Mom?” He called again, trying to ignore how his voice cracked at the question. He wasn’t scared of a staircase! His heart kept pounding in his ears, knuckles going white as he kept his hands in anxious fists. Everything told him to get back, to stay away, but couldn’t stand the noise. Besides, what if it was hurting them? Maybe that’s why they didn’t answer? Worry for them helped push back the seaping cold, heading down to the lab faster than he’d managed to get down from his room.

It was brightly lit, normal but cold. He could see them, hunched over a work desk and unharmed. The glare made his eyes hurt, pausing to rub at them. They seemed blurry, even though he wasn’t that far away. “Uh, Mom, Dad? Can you turn down whatever you’re working on? I can’t sleep.” He asked, unable to convince his legs to step a bit closer, feeling too tired to make any extra effort.

“Turn down what sweetie?” She turned to face him, making his blood try to turn to ice in his veins. She sounded right, said the right thing-but he was already trying to back up the stairs. Was she taller? “Sweetie? You look pale.”

“T-The noise.” The answer sputtered from him unbidden as he tried desperately to figure out what was wrong with-with-his mom? The echoed pounding told him no, it wasn’t, but who else could it be. “I can hear it upstairs.”

She approached with a too long stride, his own legs slipping in his blind step upwards. Pain from his elbow slamming into the edge of the staircase managed to rip through him even while everything else felt slow. She only quickened towards him as he cursed, trying to crabwalk backwards from the mother-that-was-not.

“Danny! Are you okay? Let me help you.” She grabbed him around the shoulders and he froze, a rabbit being watched by a hawk. She was too real, too solid, she could easily rip through him. “Maybe we should get you to the doctor honey, there’s isn’t anything on down here.”

Should he squirm away? She was lying about the sound, it kept pounding against him like a tide and he had no way to ride the wave clutched as he was. “There is, the thing over there-” He didn’t know what it was, but he could feel it, that it was over with the other figure, the one who hadn’t come to snag an intruder.

The hand on his forehead burned, but he couldn’t flinch away. “Sweetie, I think I’d know if your Dad was playing it.” The eyes bore into him, scanning him for any slight movement. “Jack, can you start the RV? I think we should take Danny to emergency.”

The other figure moved, massive, larger than he could imagine. It might hurt him, it might hurt his mom! “S-Stay back!” He yelled, a spark of energy finding its way to him. He couldn’t let his mom get attacked by whatever this was- no wonder she seemed strange, this thing was doing it.

“Well I gotta get up the stairs Danno! You don’t look good, you just wait there.” It was speaking as it came closer, but all it did was make the bile rise in his throat as it pretended to be his father. He squirmed free to stumble forward and block this thing from his mom, eyes burning green as he tried to shove past the exhaustion and fight.

“I said STAY BACK!”

The figure paused at his shriek and wild eyed fury, face unreadable. “Danny?” His voice was low, booming in a way that started to drain all his prior hope to fight the thing off. “Madds? I don’t think emergency can fix what he’s got.”

Claws sunk into his back, his neck aching at the speed used to look back at his mother, too long fingers tight on his shoulders and keeping hims still as he stared up and felt even smaller. “You don’t think he’s possessed?” She wasn’t talking to him, and that was a relief even as his heart tried to run off without him with how fast it wanted to go.

“Y-You did something to my mom.” The accusation made it easier to keep on his feet, but didn’t lessen her grip or stop the giant from approaching. “Take your noisemaker and get out!” If it was gone, it’d be fine, they’d be safe, he was sure of it.

“Danny, that’s your dad sweetie. Not a monster.��� The voice was gentle, but he could feel how the arms shook, how she  increased the strength of her grip so he couldn’t pull away again. “You keep doing your best to fight that ghost off Danny, dad will help you.”

The larger figure grabbed the horrible silver device, the red gems adorning the horn’s buttons making him feel empty and helpless. “S-Stop it, you can’t let it use that mom!” He pleaded, but she didn’t release him, just pulled him closer to the smothering warmth. “Please, listen to me!” Of course she didn’t, controlled by that thing, twisted into thinking it was Dad, that it was quiet. Becoming intangible let him slip free, but he only managed two steps before the behemoth blew a long sustained note that made his skin vibrate and eyes swim. He crumpled to the cool floor, staring up at the monster in a silent horror. He couldn’t fight this thing- he’d been a fool to try and the red eyes promised retribution for his behaviour.

“Get out of my son right now, ghost.” It snarled, pointing directly at his crumpled form so he could not pretend to misunderstand. Yet he’d given an order he couldn’t follow. His core screeched in terror as his heart pounded, he couldn’t get out. Yet he had to, or this thing would devour him, shred him to nothing with nothing but sound. He could only try the closest he could get to ‘out’ of his own skin, shuddering as flesh melted to ectoplasm, trying not to scream as suit replaced skin. Not his normal transformation, this one was too slow- too confused by the order he couldn’t follow to make it an instantaneous change. He had to show he wasn’t wearing his human skin, show how completely he changed. Dying slowly, bit by bit  to be someone else. Not ‘his son’. His enemy. Green eyes stared back at the red ones as he panted, unsure if the monster was pleased.

It was furious, stepping forward as he shrank back and pulled his ghostly tail around himself. “I told you to get out.”

“I can’t.” He whimpered, wanting to look away but unable to.

Another voice behind him, the mom that wasn’t spoke. Yet he didn’t understand a word of it, too terrified by the being in front of him to even process it as language.

“Don’t lie to me Phantom. Get out of my son before we tear you out.”

His name made him flinch, gloved hands clutching at his head as the impossibility of that tore at his mind. “I’m not, I swear, I can’t get out of myself!” How could he not be in his son when he was his son? He had to find a way, his slowed but still pounding heart offering some idea.

“Don’t you dare pretend to be my son, ghost.”

He wanted to explain he wasn’t pretending, that he wasn’t disobeying on purpose but the massive thing had him by the collar of his jumpsuit, leaving him busy trying to breathe enough to speak. If he wasn’t a hybrid, then maybe the monster would be satisfied? He didn’t get much time to wonder before getting tossed in a containment cell. “I’m not pretending- the accident…” he mumbled, trying to make himself look smaller as if he could hide from the hateful eyes that way. They stared at him, spoke gibberish to one another as the previous exhaustion came back with a vengeance. Keeping still felt like the best idea. When the bigger one locked eyes with him and ordered that he sleep, he did.

Dreaming and waking became one and the same. He stayed in his cage unless ordered out. They kept asking him the impossible, until he tried to rip out his heart to ‘separate’ through death. They didn’t want their son harmed- didn’t see how separating was harm, but did not destroy him for that blunder. He hunted, brought them what they wanted. They kept watching as if expecting him to disobey, to slip his leash even as he practically groveled when they approached. He hoped Mom was okay, wherever she was. Maybe Jazz could rescue her from the monster with the cornet on spring break. A ghost couldn’t. A ghost simply obeyed.

Prompt: Danny hasn't been feeling himself, blacking out and having strange dreams. Unbeknownst to him, Freakshow's staff was not the only artifact that could control ghosts. Even worse, Jack and Maddie are the ones who get their hands on that object.

[five-rivers]

Questions (Not Answered)

@amabsis  MERRY CHRISTMAS FEATURING CRYTIC DANNY AND HIS SPACE FRECKLES (and one other prompt you sent me, but that one’s a mystery).

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Bare feet on ice. Breathe, he reminded himself.  He was human, for now, and he wasn’t supposed to be here.

Ice.  Thin ice.  

He was human, for now, but he didn’t have the weight of it.

In slow motion, he saw the much, much heavier man—Boy, really, he hadn’t graduated that long ago—step out on the ice, brow furrowed. A kind of rage lit him up, a paper lantern that burns itself, like the last time Danny had seen him, a frustration born of not being believed and—

The ice gave way.  

It took him a moment to remember to fall.  

.

Beeping.  White. It took him a moment to remember and remember he had been human.  At least then.  At least now. Something like a fever danced over his skin.  Pinpricks. A heated blanket.  Whiteness he has come to associate with a threat.  

He—

This is a hospital.  

He breathes.  He remembers. He wasn’t supposed to be there, but even less is he supposed to be here.  

There will be questions.  

It isn’t his fault, he reassures himself.  No way he could have been anywhere else, done anything else, except by the actions of others.  Not with safety.  Not with grace.  Not with morals.  

He can smell the other person in the room.  Their sweat.  The fabric softener their suit had been laundered in.  

“You should be dead,” said the man.  Accused the man.  

“Well,” croaked Danny, “clearly not.”

“We didn’t pull you out until after Agent W.”

Couldn’t they use the guy’s real name?  Agent W.  Too many syllables.  Too long to say in the heat of battle, or to keep him from running out and nearly drowning in a half-frozen lake.  

“You’re not dead until you’re warm and dead,” said Danny. “Heard it in a documentary.  Mom and Dad say it’s why you don’t see too many ghosts who died that way.  That and the hallucinations.”

His parents don’t think happy people leave ghosts.  They’re wrong.  In that and many other things.  

He does not look at the man.  The line on the heart monitor goes up and down, dead steady. He did not think of the ghosts he left behind him.  Of the battle and journey that left him on the ice, surrounded by white.

“I think we both know that isn’t true,” said the man with an edge of a growl.  His shadow fell on the edge of the bed.  “We’ve had our specialists look into you, you know.  With your parents’ blessing.”

Blessing.  What a strange way to say permission.  Danny has received blessings.  True blessings.  One is not the same as the other.  He remembers them, towering, like storm clouds, like mountains, like the forest, like the moon, the sun, the stars.  He remembers the lights overhead, circling, and himself, looking up, beneath it all.  He remembers the well, the fountain, the door, the path.

He remembers.  

And he has none of that right now.  No lightning but what he was born with.  No ice but what the doctors chased away, if there were doctors, and not simply more men like the one at his bedside.  No knife or poison but the words on his tongue.  No shield but his disregard.

Human.  

Yes.  

“We even ran you through some of our pattern recognition programs.  Do you know what we found?”

“Enlighten me,” said Danny, dryly.  His voice cracked again, painfully.  

His effort was rewarded with a finger shoved harshly against his cheek.  He winced at the sharpness of the nail and looked directly at the man for the first time since he woke up.  He was reflected twice in the man’s sunglasses, and a third time on the warped silver casing of his overlarge earpiece.  

“Your freckles,” said the man.

“What, did your program decide I had skin cancer or something? Forgive me if I decide I want a second opinion.”

“Constellations,” hissed the man.  “You have constellations in your freckles.  The same as the ghost boy.”

Danny endeavored to raise his eyebrows as far as they could go. “I’m pretty sure that whatever Phantom has on his face aren’t freckles.  Freckles don’t glow.”

“Don’t play games with me,” said the man.  “We aren’t the only ones who’ve noticed.  We aren’t the only ones who’ve put two and two together.”

“To me, it sounds like all you’ve done is give a computer pareidolia, but whatever floats your boat.”

“What is your connection to Phantom?”

“You’ve been listening to Wes,” said Danny.  If his voice wasn’t wrecked, his words would have been dripping with disdain thick enough to drown the man.  Twice.

“Agent W is not the only one to make note of your behavior,” said the man.  “Paulina Sanchez, for example.”

“Paulina,” repeated Danny.  “You mean the girl who has used every available opportunity to tear me down and mock me since I asked her out in freshman year?  You think she wouldn’t lie to your clown squad?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what everyone calls you,” said Danny.  “Also, you shouldn’t be interrogating a minor without their guardian present.”

“How convenient, that you know that.  Reading up on the legal system?”

“My sister had a Law and Order phase.  Speaking of, I want a lawyer.”

“You aren’t under arrest,” clearly disgusted.

“Great.  So, can you tell the doctor I’m awake?  Thanks.”

“We aren’t done here.”

“I am,” said Danny.  He closed his eyes.  “If you don’t tell the doctor I’m awake, I might as well go back to sleep.”  He faked a yawn.  Then yawned for real because yawns were like that.

Then the GIW representative shook him by the shoulders.

He shouldn’t have done that.  For a number of reasons.  Not the least of which being that if Danny was connected to ghostly happenings, he could most likely kill the man with his bare hands.  

This is not what occurred.  

Monitors need leads, need sensors.  Disconnected, they scream.  Much like anything else.

In a hospital, such screaming attracts doctors.  

How nice to know that they were in a hospital.  

.

Snow underfoot.  Booted foot, incidentally.  His parents had brought his boots when they came to pick him up, along with other winter clothes.  The snow crunched and squeaked, declining to melt when he stepped on it.  Which.  Rude.  

The trip to the car was silent and sulky.  Or possibly accusatory.  Or morose.  The nuances of the emotions escaped him.  

“Danny,” said his mother.  “Why were you out on the lake last night?”

Danny had been dreading this.  Anticipating it as one would the end of a fall.  Except he hadn’t hit the ground yet, only the branch of a tree that had the misfortune to get in the way.  

He didn’t have a good answer.  

“There was something I had to do,” said Danny.  Which was both true and vague.  

“In your pajamas?”

Danny winced.  That hadn’t been his fault.  

“We don’t know why you keep sneaking out,” said his father. “But it has to stop.  You can’t do this anymore, Danny-boy.  Especially not if it’s going to end up with you in the hospital.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” protested Danny.  “It isn’t like I lured Wes out.  He went out all by himself!”

“Danny,” said his mother.  “You almost died.  And now the GIW is telling us that your freckles are in the same pattern as Phantom’s ecto-luminescence!”  She visibly worried at her lower lip.  “What happened?”

“And what did you go out for?”  added his father.  

Danny shrugged.  

“Were you trying to help Phantom?”

“No,” said Danny.  

“We know how you and Jazz feel about him, but, Danny, this is dangerous.  That ghost is dangerous.”

Danny looked away.  

“You’re grounded,” said his mother.  

Danny whipped around to face her again.  “What!”

“What else can we do?” asked his mother.  “What else do you expect us to do?  You won’t tell us anything!”

“It was just—” spluttered Danny.  He pressed his lips together, considering.  “I did not go out to meet Phantom,” he said.  Again, it was true.  “I went out because one of my classmates said they were being haunted, and I wanted to help.”  Also true.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked his father.  “It’s our job to deal with ghosts.”

“Yes,” said his mother.  “In fact, I thought you wanted nothing to do with ghosts.”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “Sometimes—” He winced, knowing what he was about to say would hurt. “You aren’t very good at catching ghosts.  And the part I want to have nothing to do with is the one where you cut ghosts up into pieces.”  He paused. “And I don’t know what happened after I got there.”  He did not specify where there was.  “I think the GIW had some kind of weapon?  I didn’t expect them there.  Anyway, there was a bright light, and the next thing I know, I’m out on the water.”

Alright.  He was leaving a bunch out, but the rest was still true.

“You’re still grounded.”

.

He felt heavy.  Whatever had kept him from making footprints on the ice had left him entirely. Or reversed itself.  Either way, stairs, such as the ones he had to climb to reach his room, felt like an imposition.  Nonetheless, he persevered.  

Right up until he collapsed on his bed, overcome with the unfairness of it all.  

“Hey,” whispered the monster that had taken up residence underneath his bed.  “Can I come out, now?”

“You’re clear,” mumbled Danny.

The monster, Phantom, phased up through the bed to lie on it next to Danny.  

“Where did they even get the Ghost Catcher?” he asked, aggrieved.  

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out!” replied Danny. “It doesn’t make any sense, and I can’t very well ask Mom and Dad about it.”

“Ugh.  We’re grounded, aren’t we?”

“I am.  You aren’t.” Danny pulled a face he hoped his other half would recognize from the outside.  “Be careful, though.  Your escape route is gone.”

“I will.  You need to find out how to get us back together.”

“I will,” said Danny.  “By the way, just after it happened, I think I still had access to some ghost powers.  I think I’m still a little, you know.  Not quite right.  It might be the other way around for you.”

“I’ll try and keep an eye on that,” said Phantom.  “It might be important.”

“Yeah,” agreed Danny.  “You should go, for now.  I’m pretty sure Mom and Dad are going to be checking on me all night, and if they see you…”

“Yeah.  I get it.”

“Sorry.”

Phantom bumped his head lightly against Danny’s.  “Nothing to be sorry about.  We both know what they’re like.  I’m going to patrol a bit, then I’ll probably go over to Sam or Tucker’s. In case you need me.”

“Sounds good,” said Danny.  “I’ll just… stay here.  Try to make the Ghost Catcher from scratch.”

“We have homework, too, while you’re at it,” said Phantom, halfway through the wall.  

Danny groaned and rolled over.  He would have to be careful about getting into the lab while he was grounded, and his parents were on high alert.  Perhaps he could convince his sister to cause a distraction?

[sylph-feather]

Title: Ectoplasmic Fossils

Summary: "Actually, Dad?  I wanted to be a paleontologist."

Prompt: Prompt is the same as the summary. Prompter is gaunttwister, team halfa. 

Wordcount:  2453

Notes: Can you tell I was a dinosaur kid.....

For a Danny in familiar world, his first positive thought after becoming a ghost and learning ghosts existed (after, of course, a litany of terror), was as follows: imagine the new world I could explore. He considered this while staring into the swirling portal that lead to places unknown, and in his mind he compared it to the vast and beautiful unknown of space.

This Danny, in this less familiar universe, was less impressed by the portal itself; of course, he was in awe of it from a technical perspective, but nothing that deeply riveting, that personal spark of exploration— not from its wrought metal or whirling green center, that is. No, this was his thought, in replacement of the other spark: if ghosts exist, what things have been made ghosts over the years? What old life could be discovered? 

Danny, you see, did not desire to explore space in this universe. No. He was fascinated by paleontology. Star books were replaced by compendiums of dinosaur species, models of rockets and stations replaced by scientifically accurate models and bones, diagrams of ships replaced by diagrams of feathery, toothsome things. You get the picture. 

Where these obsessions came from… who was to say? Why one fixation over the other? Did this Danny latch onto his parent’s obsession with the dead and translate it into this, rather than translating it into the more vague idea of exploring the unknown? Or was it as simple as an exposure to different things; a cartoon with scientifically inaccurate dinosaurs rather than a ridiculous sci fi premise, or perhaps watching Jurassic Park too young rather than Star Wars…? The child’s mind is prone to flights of fancy that stick— that’s the  the final conclusion, no matter the exact cause of specifics. 

Regardless, his parents engaged in it; provided him with aforementioned objects— models, posters, etcetera— and generally encouraged his interests. The most annoying was when they tried to sell him on ghosts by using dinosaurs as a sort of bribery; they talked of the possibilities of discovering undocumented species and anatomy with the ghost forms of creatures from long ago, a sort of tempting what if, to lure Danny to their side. 

Up until today, when a portal had electrocuted half the life out of him, Danny didn’t believe it. 

Sam, Tucker, and Danny were all reclined in Danny’s bedroom— all fully human, though Danny still felt a bit… simultaneously charred and charged, which he supposed made sense given he’d just been fried by a nasty shock (to put it lightly). 

His two friends were sending him worried looks— also sensible, given not half an hour ago Danny was significantly ghostier, and significantly panic-ier. Now, though, while Sam and Tucker sent each other concerned glances to communicate wordlessly, Danny was simply considering the possibilities. Gooey species of jellyfish and slug-like creatures that hadn’t been preserved! Confirmation of the placement or use of bones, especially controversial ones like the hollowed crest of the Parasaurolophus or the gastralia of many beasts! Behavior that could only be guessed at via anatomical features! The degree to which feathers coated their body! Colors! 

...And so on and so forth. It was all enough to bring a wide grin to Danny’s face— which was a bit creepy given he’d just died. 

“Dude,” Tucker grimaced, snapping Danny out of his reverie, “are you, like, coping well—“ 

“We have to go into the Ghost Zone,” Danny cut him off with excited urgency. 

Sam blinked at him owlishly. “Now? Why?” 

“Not now, I guess, necessarily,” Danny brushed off, filled with excited energy. His eyes were shining when he turned them to his new friends— “imagine what ancient things we could find as ghosts.” 

Tucker facepalmed and groaned. “Of course the first thing you’re thinking of is dinosaurs.” 

Sam eased a bit, brushing off her initial assumption that Danny had some weird, ghostly pull to the green portal. “Well, at least you’re seeing the bright side,” she huffed sarcastically. 

Danny crossed his arms in a pout. “I’m not just thinking of dinosaurs.” No, he was thinking of other eras of ancient things too, of course. 

Tucker shot him a look, but broke it with a laugh and didn’t prod further. 

  xXx

  It was, of course, a disappointment when the first ghosts that came through were too formless to tell what they had been, if they were anything but raw emotion. It was an even bigger disappointment when the first fully-formed ghosts were largely human-shaped. With the exception of dragons— which Danny definitely did not count— there was nothing that bore any resemblance to extinct creatures. 

On top of this, Danny had sort of let go of the go find dinos in the Ghost Zone NOW mentality, because… well, despite insatiable curiosity, he didn’t know his way around the place at all. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, or if he was even expecting it to be easy to begin with, but going into a directionless green abyss where orientation did not exist… well, needless to say that Danny knew he could not find his way to whatever ancient beast ghosts were there, if they did even exist in the first place. And he certainly didn’t want to risk his life knocking on doors of who-knows-what, or drifting around ghostly islands in the middle of who-knows-where. And that’s not even touching that technically Walker wants his arrest for a reason Danny only sort of remembers because it was so dumb. 

And so, for the first handful of months of his existence as a halfa, Danny contents himself with theorization. It’s hard to think too much about dinosaurs anyways, because it’s hard to think too much about anything— despite being a teen and thus being prone to sleep deprivation, the ghost fighting combined with high school has lead Danny to a new level of exhaustion, one that he is still adjusting to. His grades hurt for it, as do his passions. 

Slowly, though, he does adjust— enough to be confident to go in the Zone, and enough to have actually smart thoughts without his brain fizzling out. 

In the moment where Phantom and the Red Huntress found themselves in Skulker’s lair, Danny was largely scared and exasperated at alternating points. It wasn’t until that situation was… resolved (and thank goodness both hunters didn’t pulverize him) that Danny was slapped with a marvelous idea of tangential connections.

Skulker is a hunter. The Zone’s greatest hunter, he claimed, though Danny didn’t know if he believed that much. Still. The point still stood that it was a reasonable bet that Skulker was into rare and dangerous prey, if his arsenal and his fleet of pelts were anything to go by.

All this to say that Danny thought that maybe, just maybe, Skulker would know about dinosaur ghosts. That miniscule spark of hope was enough; Danny felt he deserved to see what he’d always so desperately wanted to see after the thought of dinosaur ghosts entered his mind as a believable thing. 

Danny had to ask— even if there was a high chance Skulker didn’t know or did know but wouldn’t tell, and the fact that asking Skulker was at great risk of being at best, involved in their typical scuffling, and at worst, captured. Danny only had dinos on the brain, though, and maybe he wasn’t awake enough to consider the full consequences of the impulsive thought. 

So he enacted his plan as a teen enacted anything: rashly, suddenly, and without much forethought. Even calling it a plan alone was generous; all the half-ghost did was float into the Zone in the general direction of Skulker’s island, foolishly calling out to Skulker as he floated through. Naturally, he came prepared— not with weapons, or maps, but with a bag containing his phone, a journal, and his comprehensive dinosaur book… just in case he did end up seeing any. 

The mechanical suit showed his flaming mug quite close to his island. Bright, solid green eyes blinked, and Skulker— who had not had the time to pull up hs egotistical Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter speech in his shock— said in a surprised tone, “don’t you have other things to do?” 

Danny did. He did this in favor of an important English essay on 1984 that he had— Danny had tried wrapping his mind around thought crime and contradictions, and once he put the book down he immediately decided I can think on all that and, I’d much rather find dinosaurs. So here he was. 

Skulker shook himself out of that surprise, and levelled a laser that popped out of his arm at Danny. “No matter! Prey is prey, and you are good prey!” 

“Wait!” Danny barked, confident enough (and strange and out of place enough) to give the other ghost pause, making Skulker lower the laser just slightly, a modicum of movement to say go on, or at least indicate curiosity. “I want to see dinosaurs,” Danny said authoritatively, simply. 

Skulker stared, weapon still whining slightly. His slightly slack jaw and slumped arm just screamed huh? 

And thus began a ramble— “I’ve always wanted to see dinosaurs, and once I realized ghosts existed, I figured ghost dinosaurs had to exist, right?” Not waiting for an answer, Danny ploughed ahead. “And I thought of all the ghosts I’ve met, you seem like you maybe, hopefully know where any ghost dinos are, with the whole hunting schtick—“ 

Skulker cut off Danny’s rambling with honesty: “I’m not sure if I should be amused, flattered, or honored, ghost child.”

“As long as you’re not violent?” Danny said slowly, tipping his head, still assessing Skulker as though to try to suss out whether he was a threat still or no 

Skulker himself was still trying to figure out the answer to that question— did he want to be a threat, want to hunt Phantom? Or did he want to pause and take a moment to indulge the bright, sparkling curiosity in his eyes…? 

Skulker gave an awkward cough, a sort of choked harumph sound. He started slowly, unsurely, “I suppose.” He added hurriedly— “to reward you for being such good prey.” 

Danny huffed. “Way to make it weird,” the halfa grumbled— but he wasn’t able to keep up a petulant persona for long, because the excitement shone through too brightly to conceal. Because dinosaurs. “That means you know where to find them?” Danny’s voice was approaching something that could only be described as a squeal. 

Skulker once again paused for contemplation, because those islands were one of his prized hunting spots… the dinosaurs regenerated (as most strong, full ghosts did), but they still were a great joy to hunt. Among the dinosaur-ridden chunks of land, there were also significantly less interesting hunts— the cambrian period areas, for example, didn’t have much that provided a very thrilling chase… they just sort of scooted around. Then again, it was clear the ghost child cared not for the hunt, so Skulker supposed he could share. 

Skulker made a gruff noise, internally considering that of course he would hunt down the halfa anyways, and Danny didn’t regenerate like full ghosts— so it wasn’t like he had to share for long. Granted, it wasn’t like a hunter to lead prey into anything but a trap, but Skulker didn’t have much to argue against that thought, so he just… didn’t think about it, justifying it with a vague “honor” tangent in his mind.

To answer the question after much internal debate on sharing, his own softness, etcetera, Skulker simply said, “yes, I know where to find them. Follow me.” 

The halfa was lost in excitement, doing flips in the air and going on a ramble that the mechanized ghost utterly drowned out as they jetsetted through the Zone at rapid speed. 

I could skewer him right now, Skulker thought over the whine of his jetpack. The thought had no heat to it, though, especially when Skulker took a pause to look at the exuberant teenager. 

It wasn’t long to consider thoughts of said skewering, anyways. The Ghost Zone was a strange place; once someone had been somewhere and knew the way, the green abyss would fold out of its own way to get them there again when they wanted it. Skulker had long stopped questioning it, if he ever questioned it in the first place, but Phantom was quite in awe of the quick travel, and the way their scenery had subtly compressed then stretched into a new horizon around them as they flew— only now was he realizing the complete change in surroundings. 

Skulker just hovered and watched as those luminous green eyes darted from unfamiliar door to unfamiliar door until they settled on the main attraction: a vast set of islands, incomprehensibly expansive and swirling around each other in a compressed way special to the Ghost Zone’s laws of space.

Danny’s eyes widened, and he let out a sound of pure, concentrated excitement. “This is it,” he said, and it was partially a question but mostly seemed to function as a statement to convince himself. 

Danny shot immediately to the nearest island, a chunk of land covered in a swampy rainforest and thick ferns. From the brush, a large thing burst forth, chittering and cawing. 

Danny took in the huge, feathered raptor— feathers of blue and green, as with all ghosts, but otherwise so… different. It was so different, seeing it in the… well, not flesh, ectoplasm, but the point still stood. Danny hovered above that island, frozen with awe, and the creature stared back at him with eyes that were not slit and were observant, and it clicked its lizard-like mouth around its sharp teeth and flared its feathers with some degree of fright… and Danny could think of nothing better than that moment of pure, extreme joy and awe and sheer wonder. 

Skulker saw all that on the teen’s face and thought again, this time with heat: I could skewer him right now. Their little agreement was over, the debt of providing a good chase repaid, and now it was time for the halfa to become prey once again. A laser charged up—

Beep, beep, beep. The laser cut off with the notification, and Skulker gave a surprised grunt. 

Danny made a noise. “You scared it off,” he groaned, but even that couldn’t get him down, because he went plummeting off towards the fern forest with a joyous laugh. 

Gorilla feeding time, Skulker’s suit informed him in the meanwhile. 

“No,” he barked uselessly, already jetting away, “I thought I’d gotten rid of this—!” 

The last thing the mechanical ghost saw was Phantom, plunging into the underbrush, crowing with laughter, dinosaur dreams fulfilled.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 3

In which: Danny getting yeeted into the Lazarus Pit yields anticlimactic consequences and Bruce Wayne converses with a fruit loop.

AO3 | Prologue | 2 | [ 3 ] | 4 |

DANIEL BARELY HAD TIME TO SCREAM before he’s plunged into the green depths of the Lazarus pit, primeval waves crashing against the walls of the pool. Talia flicked her wrist, signaling the ten League members hidden in the shadows to approach. Each one spaced equally apart around the pit with smoke pellets synthesized from blood blossoms held in their hands, ready to drop at a moment’s notice.

Pit madness rendered the majority of the living uncontrollable, with even the weakest of humans imbued with a strength that could only be induced by the purest of rage. The League was not taking chances as to how a being like her son would react to it.

The waters stilled.

Then—

A bright flash of light. Then, faster than the eyes could follow, a figure erupted from the waters. Bone white hair that twisted and curled as if it were still underwater. Skin lightly tinged frostbitten blue and clad in a suit of black and white and shrouded in an aura of blinding light. Phantom appeared from the depths, floating above the pit like a god reborn.

His eyes burned a toxic green.

“What the fuck was that?”

But not pit madness green.

Talia ordered her assassins to at ease with a raise of her hand. She slowly walked to her father’s side just as her son—Phantom—landed at the edge of the pool. Idly, Talia noticed how different Phantom seemed in comparison to her son. Physical attributes aside, Daniel tended to make himself smaller. What venom that may coat his words and the vitriol in his glares dampened by the way he held himself. Shoulders hunched and head tilted down. Non-threatening. Hands always needing to do something, whether it be holding his arms or shoved inside his pockets or constantly brushing it through his hair. No matter how she and his instructors taught him how to hold himself like a warrior, like a soldier, he still tended to present himself as a skittering little animal.

Phantom was different. He squared his soldiers and lifted his chin high, unafraid to stretch out to his fullest height and use his defiance of gravity to make himself look bigger. Stronger. His arms held steady at his sides, curled into tight fists. Green eyes—green as the Lazarus pit yet without that spark of madness that so consumed everyone else—burning with righteous fury.

“You fucking threw me into the weird green pool. What even—who does that?”

Ra’s tilted his head. “Fascinating. It seems you have a resistance to the pit madness.”

Phantom blinked, caught off guard. “Pit…madness,” he echoed. A statement, though from the wrinkle in his brows and the look he shoots Talia, it was more a question than anything else.

“It is one of the side effects of the Lazarus pits.” Talia approached her son with caution, holding his face with both hands and inspecting for any differences. “While the waters rejuvenate, restore, and even temporarily imbue one with supernatural strength, it also tends to inflict users with temporary insanity.”

“Insanity?” His eyes widened, trembling hands coming up to hold her wrists. Strangely, Daniel did not pull away from her touch. “I could have gone insane?”

Those bright eyes of his looked so frightened. Haunted. Pupils dilated to mere pinpricks of blackness, lost in a sea of Lazarus green. “Oh habeebi, only temporarily.”

“Like that’s better!” He yelled. “Even temporarily, I’m—” He staggered back, breaking out of her hold. Harmless Danny Fenton bleeding into proud Phantom as he ran his hands through his hair, unwilling to look at anyone.

Ra’s continued to watch, his arms crossed beneath his sternum, muttering to himself. Her father had prided himself on being one of the most knowledgeable about the Lazarus pits and its effects. Now, faced with a new mystery, the scholar within the Demon’s Head emerged as he observed his grandson.

“No,” Ra’s said, mostly to himself. “Perhaps less of a ‘resistance’ and more of an ‘immunity’ to it, given how both Daniel and the Lazarus pit have similar compositions. It would be a fascinating tangent to follow.” He chuckled to himself. “How droll. The life-restoring Lazarus pit holding a connection to the land of the dead.”

Talia turned to her father. “So, Daniel will not feel any of the pit’s side effects, then?”

Daniel perked up at the sound of his name, halting in his pacing. “I…might not go insane?”

“Perhaps, though it is too soon to tell. You have the waters of the Lazarus pit flowing through your veins, Daniel.” Ra’s smiled; eyes gleaming with the sparks of pride. “You and it are made of the same chemicals, the same reality-defying compounds that can bring the dead back to life.”

“Well, great. I have the same chemical makeup as a glowing hot tub, what else is new—” Her son staggered, and she caught him. Impossibly bright rings formed at his abdomen and then split, transforming Phantom back into a human. Mortal. His face haggard and sweating from the temples, eyes back to her beloved’s pale blues.

Her father did not bat an eye. “The pit’s healing effects are slowed down, then? Or perhaps it is because he has no wounds to heal?” Ra’s hummed; chin cradled in his hand. “Set him back into the pits, Talia. I believe young Daniel has yet to absorb all his needed energy.”

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine. Put me back in the crazy water, why not?” Daniel tugged at her shoulders. “Just…gently, please?”

Talia smoothed down his dark hair with a smile. “Of course, habeebi. I will even stay with you as well.”

When he looked at her, it was something almost akin to gratefulness.

------

In Gotham City, the upper echelons of society gather together at the Gotham Expo Center. The shining halls, which had been used as the site of a week-long exhibition of new scientific research, was reoutfitted to serve as the venue for the exhibition’s final event.

A gala. The hunting ground of the nouveau riche and old money families. Corporate moguls and debutants made their rounds across the floor, chatting with heirs and politicians and the who’s who of the upper class.

Scientists and researchers attempted to step out of their shells and dazzle the crowds. Wanting to fish a willing patron with deep pockets to fund their next project. Reporters huddled together like schools of fish, warily approaching the predators in their midst for a question or a photo. Both things many of the wealthy and affluent are easily ready to give, as long as it only showed off their best side in tomorrow’s society papers.

Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, and society’s darling observed everything as he always did, in that most people believed he barely noticed anything beyond what’s right in front of him. He raised the flute glass of champagne to his lips, pretending to take a sip as he listened to the chatter of sycophants around him. A few were even some promising researchers of which he made a mental note to pass along to Lucius.

Two nights ago, Bruce received a tip of unusual movements from the League of Assassins. The organization had been quiet as of late, and while Bruce had been very carefully monitoring their activities in the background, the sudden tightening of their security prompted him to take a closer look.

There had been sightings of the League of Assassins centered around a small town in Illinois—Amity Park. A rural tourist trap championing itself as the most haunted place in America. Something that Bruce would normally scoff at or zealously research about if not for John Constantine’s warning to “never go within a ten-mile radius of that hellhole.” With similar sentiments from others in the occult community, the Justice League decided to take that warning to heart. Bruce’s curiosity may have been piqued, but even he was tactful enough to avoid courting more trouble.

Suffice to say, Bruce—and especially Batman—could not afford to ignore Ra’s al Ghul’s movements. Whatever his plans were involved whatever anomalies were going on in Amity Park. And wasn’t it simply serendipitous that one of the guest lists for tonight’s gala was Vlad Masters, the mayor of Amity Park?

“Vlad Masters, is that you?” Bruce, slapping on his signature Brucie smile, masterfully detached himself from his previous group, quickly heading towards the nearby bar where he spotted Vlad getting another drink.

“Why, Bruce Wayne, it’s been so long!” The two shook hands, of which Bruce was slightly surprised at how cold to the touch Vlad was. A health condition, perhaps. Then again, there was something in Vlad’s appearance and stature that spoke of a deeper reason.

“It’s been, what, two years? What brings you to Gotham?”

“Business; the usual really.” Despite whatever friendly aura they’re projecting, Bruce Wayne and Vlad Masters weren’t friends. More acquaintances that have been forced to mingle a few times because of the nature of their business and the demands of high society. From what Bruce knows, Vlad is a business tycoon that’s as blindingly charismatic as he was infamous for his quick rise to wealth and a few rather shady dealings.

Bruce stuck his hand in his pocket. “Well Vlad, last we all heard was you dipping your toes into politics. You’re a, uh, what, a governor?”

Vlad let out an obviously fake chuckle. “Oh nothing as grand as that. I’m only a small-town mayor, really.”

“Right!” Bruce snapped his fingers. “So, what’s that like?”

“Oh dreadful work, really. So much paperwork, so many things to do or oversee, but rewarding in its own way.” He puffed out his chest. “Many of the people in Amity Park do rely on me, you know. Though I’m afraid my schedule’s busy enough that I barely have time to go home!”

“Well, we’re very happy that you made room enough to visit us here in Gotham.”

Bruce sensed Damian coming to stand beside him and instinctually placed a hand around his shoulder. Though his youngest had been steadily adjusting to his new life here in Gotham, he still preferred to stick to his father’s shadow than mingle with those of his own age groups at galas. (Then again, Bruce was very similar when he was younger so perhaps it was a genetic thing).

He smiled down at Damian—frowning as he’d rather be patrolling the streets in uniform as opposed to schmoozing with people he hardly cared about. “Have you met my son, Vlad? Damian, this is Vlad Masters, a business partner and a, uh—” He scrunched his face, pretending to remember what Vlad’s current occupation is. “Mayor of some small town out west.”

Bruce turned to look at Vlad, expecting to see some variation of ‘insulted but trying to keep up a polite façade’—only to freeze.

Vlad’s face paled considerably. His beady eyes comically wide as he looked at Damian, the fingers curled around the stem of his flute glass bone white. Damian, unnerved, steadied his stance but shifted minutely closer to Bruce.

Well, this was interesting. “You alright, Vlad? You looked like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Vlad jerked his head towards Bruce. Surprise—and fear? —contorted his features for a brief moment before smoothed back down into a proper mask. “Mayor of Amity Park, yes. My apologies,” he chuckled. “Young—Damian, was it? —only reminded me of someone I knew once.” He shifted his gaze back to Damian. “The resemblance is actually quite uncanny.”

Damian furrowed his brows. “Amity Park?”

“You’ve heard of it, Damian?”

“I would be surprised if you did.” Vlad masters took a small ship of his champagne. “Then again, it should be expected that you might have heard of it. The town does love it’s ghosts.”

Bruce laughed. “What, like Casper?”

“Something like that, yes.” There’s a tightness to Vlad’s voice. “Amity Park is its own breed of strange. We’ve handled things well enough on our own in the past, and quite honestly you get used to all of the spooks eventually. Though I must say the shadows are quite new—I’d often ask myself if I should petition your city’s vigilante and put him on the case.

“Shadows?”

Vlad easy smile shifted into a faint grimace. “They have a rather nasty habit of snooping.”

------

Despite Bruce and Damian’s attempt at plying Vlad for more answers, Vlad kept his mouth shut, evading questions and changing topics skillfully. Something that only raised Bruce’s alarm that something was going on.

“So,” Bruce unbuttoned his suit as he stepped into the car, “How did you hear of Amity, Damian? Ghosts and ghouls don’t exactly seem like something you’d be interested in.”

He waited for Damian to buckle his seatbelt before shifting the Bentley into drive and pulling out of the Expo. They had stayed at the gala long enough, making their rounds and giving the media enough for a headline in the society pages.

Damian rested his hand against the window. His face scrunched as he watched the looming facades of Gotham’s architecture pass by. “Mother mentioned the name once or twice,” he said. “I was not…privy to every operation that happened in the League, so I don’t know anything despite that my grandfather took an interest in Amity.”

“And I’m sure that from Masters’ odd phrasing, Ra’s didn’t just magically lose that interest either.” He narrowed his eyes. “Contact Oracle and have her dig up everything we need to know about the situation in Amity Park. I think it’s time Batman made his introductions to some out-of-town guests.”