#danuary 2024

[dragonshoardofworks]

DP x DCMK (x DC)

Where Danny and Shinichi meet at the Hawaii where's a Ghost Convention (pre-portal and Conan, when they're both around 11–12 years old) since both sets of parents are invested in the topic. (The Fentons because they're the Fentons and Yusaku because he's researching for one of his books).

They become friends and keep contacts through messages, sharing school shenanigans, crushes, cases and family mishaps.

The One Thing that Danny doesn't share, though, is his halfa status.

First, because Shinichi doesn't believe in the supernatural (according to him, magic is just unexplained science) and second, because his change is far from any kind of "normalcy" and Shinichi had categorically stated that he doesn't want anything to do with superheroes, he's just a "normal" detective and they (the Justice League) save the world.

Though, it's not unusual that, if something weird happens in a case, Shinichi asks Danny's opinion and intel since the Fenton's library has "weird"/obscure material. (If the answer gets him too close to superhero-stuff, Shinichi passes the ball to the JL, more specifically to Red Robin, but that's something for a following reblog of this thread.)

So when Shinichi becomes Conan and settles in Ran's home, he contacts our favorite boi.

(A bit late to the @crossoverdanuary party... (^～^;)ゞ Anyway, long post in chat-style, plus an extra, so I decided to use the read more function because it was getting out of hand... (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) )

Shinichi: Hey Danny, do you know anything that should be killing you, but instead it shrinks you? Danny: Shrink as in size or age? S: Age D: Hold on, gotta check some books to be sure, but usually anything age-related is dark shit. What's for? Fun or case? S: ...It's for a case D: Well, that didn't sound ominous at all, then gotta go *faster* *few minutes later* D: Okay, the closest thing (still in the Mortal Realm) to what you asked is this jewel most commonly known as "Pandora" (if she knew, she would definitely lose her shit) D: it's a gem hidden inside another gem that glows red under the moonlight D: "if bathed in the light of the Volley Comet, it would shed tears capable of granting eternal life" S: This doesn't sound anything like what I asked you (⁠눈⁠‸⁠눈⁠) D: Cut the sass beanpole and let me continue D: since the legend exist and it's documented, it should be reasonable to presume that someone managed to attain it, right? S: ...right *squinty eyes* D: So if some scientist tried to reproduce the same results in the *scientific way* instead of the magical one, they could have either the original "Tears" or the one who consumed them and run test and experiment on them D: whatever the case, there would be either some inferior or failed products that instead of making you immortal, *de-ages* you, which is the next best thing (i.e. you would live longer) D: but since they were "failures" compared to the immortality elixir, they could definitely become poisons. D: So! Since you were so ominous, was it really for a case or did our dear Professor Agasa dabble in alchemy? 👀 (read) D: Beanpole, I know you read my explanation and since this is really dark shit you *have* to at least give me context D: because among the warnings that the grimoire gave me, there's the thing that you become somewhat cursed S: ...Or you're cursed or you're not, there's no "somewhat" D: He speaks! 🙌 D: Give me *the deets* *long pause* D: *Shinichi Kudo* ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ S: Okay, fine! I can feel your disappointed stare all the way to Japan, stop! >Д< D: Then explain S: Okay S: so you know how I can't leave things alone when they have suspicious all printed on them? D: Your worst defect, yes, but continue D: ...wait D: Shinichi no D: HOW OLD ARE YOU NOW?? S: Still 17, thank you very much D: I mean physically, you little shit, don't dodge the question! S: ... S: ...we think 7 D: What in the Infinite Realms everloving fuck, Shinichi D: Okay, you know what? D: I'm coming to Japan and you can't stop me, you *midget*, I know what you're already going to say D: it's dangerous, yada yada D: nothing I've already seen and fought S: What do you mean?! D: Since you're *such a good detective*, deduce it yourself D: give me your coordinates in the meantime and don't you dare move from that spot S: If you send me Superman or anyone of his creek, I swear to Kami, Danny D: Please, Superman could only desire to be anything like me, now *coordinates* ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ *coordinates sent* D: good boy D: now get ready in 3 S: 3 what? D: 2 D: 1

🕵️👻

A full body shiver run over Shinichi as soon as the "1" appeared on the screen, so he looked up from his phone, searching for where the cold draft could have come from. However, the agency toilet window was closed and the closed door had a good insulation, last time he had checked.

So what...!

"Boo."

Shinichi shrieked with all the high pitch of an elementary schooler, as he whirled around to look at what, or better, who had whispered by his ear.

A white-haired green-eyed floating teenager with a black hazmat suit with white accents grinned almost maniacally at him, showing their fangs predatorily.

Anatomically they looked male and despite the unhinged expression, the body language didn't project "danger". If anything, it was loose and casual as if he (until otherwise stated) belonged here.

The unearthly glow suggested either some substance coating him that gave him that illusion, or there was magic afoot.

Irritation surged inside Shinichi: Danny knew his rules! No direct superhero meeting, only exchange of intel!

"Who are you and why did Fenton send you?" Shinichi gritted, crossing his arms to appear less like a 7 years old.

"You disappoint me, little detective, I thought you would have figured it out at first glance!" The supposed hero pouted, crossing legs and arms midair and staring back at Shinichi. "I guess that your fame had been an exaggeration, after all. Some East Highschool Detective you are!"

The teasing little smirk incensed Shinichi more than alarming him (the other knew his secret!), but the last thought made him pause.

Danny wouldn't betray him like this by informing whatever "superhero" of this situation just to help him without his consent. Their boundaries had been awesome like that and had been respected so far, despite the many trials both had faced.

So who was this person really?

Shinichi's mind focused back into deducing the teen before him, and the more looked, the more disbelief made way in his heart. (...He had said he would be coming to Japan, but not in that instant!)

"No way, Danny?"

"Fucking finally, midget! What took you so long?" Danny huffed, untangling then touching down on his feet and looking him over. "It even gave me time to take a look at your situation!"

"Hey! Your voice is different, so I could deduce it only because "if you exclude the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the Truth"! Since you would never spill my secrets to anyone, this must have been you!" Shinichi gestured to his friend, who flushed green when he registered the meaning of the words.

"Wow," he breathed, sounding pleased, as he scratched his nape, "you would believe that a ghost of me is still me instead of me betraying you, wow!"

"Wait, ghost? I thought you just become a superhero, not that you died!" Despite his insistence on not believing the supernatural, Shinichi had read the Fentons' papers on ghosts (the most recent ones, AKA the "no more biased version" as Danny had called them). And, while he hadn't told his friend this, the scientific breakdown of what makes a ghost what they are, had made Shinichi believe in the existence of ectoplasmic beings.

But to discover that one of his best friends had died, he hadn't known or could have done anything, plus Danny hadn't felt safe enough to tell him until it had become unavoidable, made Shinichi clutch his heart in agony and despair.

Probably sensing the shift and interpreting the action for what that was, Danny's face shifted into regret, as he knelt down before the shrunk detective and a ring of light lit up at his waist, washing over him and leaving a hoodie-and-jeans-clad raven-haired and blue-eyed teenager.

Slowly, as if not to spook a frozen Shinichi, Danny laid a hand on his shoulder, while the other took the free little hand to his NASA hoodies chest and splayed it there, allowing him to feel his heartbeat. As if he had known that only words wouldn't have been enough to convince the detective.

Slowly but surely, feeling Danny's sluggish but steady heartbeat, made Shinichi unclench, then lean against his friend's chest, head tucked under his chin.

Carefully, Danny wrapped his friend in a hug, knowing well that, while physical affection was welcome from him, Japanese social conventions and the Kudo's upbringing had left Shinichi a little adverse to prolonged contact.

As the apparent 7-years-old melted into the embrace and clutched Danny as well, followed by a suspicious wet sensation on his chest, the halfa realized that this was bad.

Shinichi had never sought comfort like that, according to professor Agasa (who Danny did keep in contact with, since he was more a parent than the Kudos), so to do this now...

"It's okay, Shinichi, I'll explain better what happened to me, but it's not your fault." Shinichi shuddered at these words and buried deeper in the embrace, making guilt shoot through Danny. He had caused this breakdown. The least he could do was to help him through it and some.

"And we're gonna find a way to solve what happened to you, I promise."

[raaorqtpbpdy]

This Sure as Hell Never Happened on Scooby-Doo

While investigating a fairly routine haunting in a Michigan hotel, Sam and Dean come face to face with a creature unlike any they've faced before. [Takes place around mid season 1 for SPN, and at a non-specific point in the DP timeline]

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week, Day 7: Supernatural | Veil

First off, congrats to Supernatural for finally making the main prompt list after two years of being an honorable mention lol. I had a lot of trouble coming up with an idea for this one for some reason, so it ended up being kind of generic. This is, however, the first time I've ever written the Full Hazmat AU, which was pretty exciting.

AO3 Link

[Warning for minor violence, and references to suicide throughout]

As a general rule, hunters steered clear of Amity Park, although the reason why varied from one to another.

Some believed all the so-called supernatural occurrences there were just a hoax, like Bigfoot, so there was no point wasting valuable time and energy looking into them. Others swore up and down that, hoax or not, there was something about that town that made you see things. Impossible things. Things that made even the most experienced hunters pause. Some simply believed that Amity Park could take care of itself. Outside interference would only cause more problems than it would solve.

Then there were those who believed that Amity Park, that the very town itself, didn't want them there. That hunters were just not welcome.

The town was infamous in the hunter community. Grizzled, plaid-wearing men would talk about it at roadhouses and truck-stop diners. They'd warn other people away, tell them not to even drive through it on their way to somewhere else. There was nothing in that town worth dying for, and they took care of their own. Hunters weren't needed, they weren't wanted, and they'd just do better if they stayed away.

Every once in a while though, Amity Park's unique brand of freaky bled out of that isolated town. And when it did, then it became the hunters' problem. Unfortunately, more often than not, they wouldn't know it until it was too late.

Sam and Dean were investigating a supposedly haunted hotel. Staff and guests they'd spoken to had all reported blinking lights, cold spots, scratching in the walls. The staff seemed content to blame it on the owner's unwillingness to spend money to fix or update anything. The guests, on the other hand, not so much.

Those who stayed overnight reported horrible nightmares about bleeding out from their wrists. Some of them even claimed to have seen things, although they couldn't seem to agree on what they saw. A few saw a woman, covered in blood from slit writs, and crying, who vanished in the blink of an eye. But another claimed to have seen a small figure in a partially melted hazmat suit.

"Could there be more than one?" Sam asked when they'd returned to their own room in the hotel.

It was more expensive than the crappy motels they usually stayed it, but it was more convenient, and it gave them an excuse to wander around if they were actually staying there.

"Maybe, but... I don't know. If someone committed suicide in the hotel, it makes sense that their spirit would linger," Dean said. "I just can't think of any reason why there would be a ghost in a hazmat suit. Can you?"

"If the building used to be some kind of lab or research facility, it's possible," Sam said, "But this hotel was established back in the late thirties, and even if there was a research facility here before the hotel, the hazmat suit he described was much more modern than they would have worn back then."

Dean scoffed as he plopped down on his bed.

"Of course, leave it to my nerd brother to know what hazmat suits looked like in the thirties," Dean mocked. "Seriously though, that second ghost just doesn't make any kind of sense."

"We'll know more once we find info about anyone whose died in this hotel," Sam said. "This place has been in business for almost seventy years, I'm sure we'll have plenty to wade through."

"It could have been that guy was just making up a story," Dean said. "We've got three people claiming they saw a woman who disappeared, but only one mentioned the hazmat suit. Maybe he was messing with us."

"He seemed pretty shaken up about it," Sam said. "I didn't think he was lying."

"I didn't either, but...." Dean shook his head thoughtfully. "Something about that story just doesn't sit right. And you know what else? That redheaded girl who got all defensive when we started acting questions. Something doesn't sit right about her, either. She acted like she was responsible, or trying to protect the person who was. Except we already know this is a haunting. We know there's at least one ghost, so why did she act like that?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "Could be she was trying to hide something else."

"Maybe...."

"Come on," Sam said. "Let's start by combing through local death records at the library."

"You go ahead," Dean told him. "I wanna talk to that girl's parents, see if they know anything. I'm starting to think there might be more to this case than just a standard haunting."

"Fine. We'll meet back here later."

—

"So, what'd you find?" Dean asked when his brother got back to their room.

"Okay, so get this," Sam began. "There have been several deaths in this hotel. A couple of heart attacks, a couple of accidents. One guy fell out his window, which caused the hotel to seal all the windows on the upper floors shut so they couldn't be opened. There have also been three suicides since the hotel's founding.

"A World War 2 vet shot himself in the head in December of 1945, just a few months after the war ended; A girl OD'ed in 1963, leaving a note about how the state of the world had made her unwilling to live in it; and lastly, a woman in 1992 slit her wrists in room 201 after her husband divorced her, blaming her for the murder of their only son."

"Sounds like we've ID'ed our first ghost," Dean noted. "We got a name?"

"Jennifer Bishop," Sam said. "She was accused of murdering her son, but never convicted because they never actually found the body, only a whole lot of blood they identified with DNA testing. She defended her innocence until her death, but the police never actually investigated anyone else for her son's disappearance and presumed death. Once she offed herself, they just closed the case."

"Another gold standard of police incompetence," Dean said. "Did you find out where she was buried?"

"Her family was catholic, but since she committed suicide, they couldn't bury her in their family plot at their church. Instead, she was buried in a public cemetery, Lincoln Memorial Park... but it's in her hometown: Petoskey, Michigan. She was only here for the trial."

"Great, so we gotta drive all night to get to friggin' Petoskey," Dean moaned. "Awesome. This is why hotel ghosts suck. Did you find any leads on hazmat suit?"

"Nothing. What about you?" Sam asked. "Get anything useful interviewing that red-headed girl's parents?"

"Nah," Dean said, shaking his head. "Remember those hellhoundslair dorks?"

Sam nodded.

"That's what they were like," he continued. "Overenthusiastic, but incompetent. She probably realized we were asking about ghosts and was nervous they'd overhear. While I was talking to them she reminded them they'd promised not to hunt any ghosts while their family was on vacation. They didn't seem too happy about that, but they at least stopped insisting they'd help me 'catch that slippery specter', so that was something, I guess.

"I did learn she has a younger brother, though. I didn't get to talk to him, but when I was leaving, I overheard the two kids talking, and he said something like, 'there's not enough of her there to talk to', and 'there's not a whole lot left of her at all," Dean finished. "Not sure what that was all about, but it seemed like they were trying to keep it on the down-low, especially from their parents."

"You think it could be related?" Sam asked.

"As far as I know, the brother never promised not to hunt ghosts," Dean replied with a shrug. "That and a gut feeling are pretty much all I have to base it on, though."

"Well, we know who our suicide is, at least," Sam said. "One of us should go take care of Jennifer Bishop while the other stays here in case she starts causing anymore trouble, or in case the hazmat ghost shows up again, if its even real."

"Why don't you take the salt-and-burn this time," Dean suggested.

Sam froze and looked at his brother, completely shocked. "You... want me to take your car and drive two hundred miles away... by myself?"

"And if you bring her back with so much as a scratch on her, I'll make you wish you were never born," Dean said. "But I feel like there's something at this hotel that I'm missing, and I'm gonna stick around until I figure it out."

"It's really bugging you, huh?" Sam noted. "Alright, well... it's a three hour drive, so I'd better get going."

"Yeah, and don't forget to fill up the tank on your way back."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said as he walked out the door.

They'd already brought some weapons from the trunk into the hotel room, so Dean wouldn't be unarmed if he ran into one of the ghosts.

He did some quick math in his head. The ghost, or ghosts, probably wouldn't show up until it was night. Sam had a six-hour round trip, plus a good hour to dig up old Jennifer, probably longer, since he wouldn't have help. It was early afternoon now. 1:18 pm, a glance at the clock told him, so he could expect Sam back around nine-ish, give or take an hour. Sunset was around seven.

Jennifer would be gone well before nightfall... but that other ghost... if it even existed, they didn't have a single lead on it.

Dean headed down to the lobby.

He'd noticed them yesterday, a group of older ladies with a basket of yarn in the middle of them, chatting up a storm. He and Sam hadn't spoken to them yesterday, but now that Sam was gone, it was time for Dean to dial up a very particular type of charm that Sam would tease him for mercilessly if he ever saw it. He stood nearby, waiting for his moment.

"I swear," one lady said. "I turned up my thermostat four times last night. I had it cranked all the way up to ninety, and I could hear the radiator groaning like anything, but my room was still freezing."

"Did you phone the concierge?" another lady said.

"I tried, but they just apologized and said it's an old hotel," replied the first. "Didn't even offer to send a handyman, or move me to a different room or anything. Anyway, that's why started coming down here during the day. I just can't stand it."

That was his chance. "You too?" he asked her. "Which room are you in?"

"I'm in 201, why?"

Bingo. 201. The same room as their suicide victim.

"Well, it got to a point where I got my tools outta my car and just fixed the darn radiator myself," Dean lied. "I could take a look at yours too, if you'd like."

"Would you?" she asked, sounding beyond relieved. "Oh, thank you so much. It's gotten so bad I can hardly sleep at night, so that would be a real godsend if you would do that. You're such a lamb."

"Oh, it's no problem, ma'am," Dean said, taking an empty seat nearby. "The name's Dean, by the way."

"I'm Millie," the woman said. "And these are my friends, Cathy and Debbie. We're in town for a big doll convention. We're collectors, you know. And Debbie even makes dolls herself out of felt."

"I do, and I've gotten pretty damn good at it, if I say so myself," Debbie said. "I even made a felt baby doll for my granddaughter's birthday a few months back and she was over the moon."

Upon closer inspection, all three of the ladies seemed to be knitting or crocheting very small clothes, presumably for dolls. Hopefully he could redirect the topic of conversation back to ghosts soon, because Dean didn't know Jack about dolls.

"What about you?" asked the third woman, Cathy. "What brings you to Lansing? I assume you don't live here, or you wouldn't be staying at a hotel."

"I'm here on business," he replied, silently thanking god that she'd changed the topic for him.

"What kind of business?" Millie asked. "You said you can fix a radiator, are you some kind of technician, or construction worker?"

"Actually... I'm a private investigator," he lied.

"Oooh, exciting!" Cathy said. "What are you investigating?"

"I'm afraid I can't share the details... but maybe you ladies could help me," he said. "Have any of you seen anything strange while you've been staying here?"

"I saw a man dancing near the park who could clasp his hands behind his back and pull them all the way in front of him," Debbie said. "That was pretty strange. I gave him a dollar."

"I was thinking more like in the hotel," Dean said. "Maybe like... a figure in a hazmat suit?"

Millie gasped, and Dean fixed his gaze on her.

"You have?"

"Well... you see, I have sleep paralysis," she said. "Last night, I had only managed to fall asleep for an hour or two because it was so cold, but then I woke up in the middle of the night because my room suddenly got even colder, but I couldn't move, of course. It takes me a while to be able to move after I wake up.

"And then I saw, like you said, someone wearing a hazmat suit, a black one with white gloves. They were small, like they weren't fully grown, and they were glowing," Millie explained. "Their suit was damaged, partly melted, it looked like. I'd never seen something like that before, but I just figured it had to be a sleep paralysis hallucination, and maybe it partly was, but do you think it could have been real? That someone broke into my room last night?"

"How frightening," Debbie said with a shiver.

"Maybe," Dean said. "Maybe not. I'm not really sure yet." He paused, consideringly. That was two people now who saw the hazmat suit, and this one saw it in the same room where the other ghost had died. "Did it say anything to you? Or do anything that you saw?"

"I couldn't really turn my head, but they seemed like they were looking for something, didn't seem to find it though. Nothing was missing from my room when I finally got up, at least," Millie said. "They didn't say anything, and only looked at me for a moment. Oh! But they might've been muttering something. Not sure what it was, though."

"Thanks, that's a lot of help," Dean said. "If you think of anything else, let me know?"

"Do you think I'm in danger?" Millie asked. "Should I request a room change after all?"

"If that would make you feel safer," Dean said. "I'm not sure it's as cut and dry as a break-in... but maybe you should just stay in one of your friend's rooms for a night."

"You can stay in my room tonight, Millie," Cathy volunteered.

He stayed for a little while, chatting with them. It wasn't something he wanted getting out, but old ladies always loved him for some reason. He even managed to get Cathy's key-lime pie recipe, which the other two swore up and down was absolutely to die for. Who knew when the next time he'd have a kitchen to try it out would be, but he'd make sure to write it down next chance he got, just in case.

It wasn't until he saw that red-haired teenage girl and a short, black-haired boy who was presumably her brother walk through the lobby that he excused himself to follow after them, claiming they were persons of interest in his case.

"If you didn't find anything, how did you even know it was the right room?" the sister was asking when Dean got close enough to hear.

He was trying hard not to be noticed while he tailed them, but as quietly as they were talking, he had to stick closer than he would have liked.

"That was where her presence was the strongest," the brother answered. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to help her when she's not strong enough to speak, and we're leaving tomorrow, so tonight is my last chance."

Could he be a psychic of some kind? Maybe a medium?

He turned around abruptly, and Dean barely had time to make it look like he was examining a shop's window display of... glass baubles and nick-knacks. Oh, yeah, he definitely seemed like the type to be interested in those. Hopefully they wouldn't question it.

"Is he staying at our hotel?" the brother whispered.

"Yeah," the sister confirmed, "and he was asking about cold spots and flickering lights, too. You think he knows something?"

"I think I'd rather stay away from him," replied the brother. "He could be the dangerous type."

After that, it seemed like the kids were deliberately trying to shake him, and it wasn't long before they did, almost as if they'd simply vanished into thin air.

Dean gave up searching and returned to the hotel. He found Millie in the lobby and asked if she'd let him into her room to fix the radiator, even brought the few tools that he'd had in his room to make the story more convincing.

"Even if you don't stay in here tonight, I figure I can at least do the hotel a favor," he said.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," she said. "Don't you go snooping around in my underwear drawer," she teased, and he laughed along with her until she closed the door behind her and headed back downstairs to her knitting.

Any evidence that there had been a suicide in this room had been long since erased. It was cold, just as Millie said it was, but there didn't appear to be any problem with the radiator. One of the tools he'd brought along was an iron crowbar, and he gripped it tightly.

"Jennifer, you in here?" he called out.

The time was 5:06, meaning Sam was probably digging up her grave right now.

He got no response.

"Jennifer?" he called again. "Jennifer Bishop?"

Nothing.... he was pretty sure that kid had been saying she wasn't a very powerful ghost, maybe that was why she hadn't done much. She hadn't actually killed or even hurt anyone beyond a couple of nightmares and a cold room. Maybe she couldn't show herself during the day.

The Winchester brothers had only stopped here because they happened to be so close by when Sam read an article that claimed guests at this hotel had seen apparitions, and experienced horrible nightmares about a woman slitting their wrists. But the nightmares weren't actually killing anybody. Normally, they wouldn't have even bothered, but they were only a few miles away, and nothing else was close by.

Dean opened his mouth to call out one more time, but before he could, there was a flash of light and a distant-sounding screen, and he watched as the ghost of Jennifer Bishop appeared and almost instantaneously disappeared.

One down. One to go.

And wow was this room suddenly sweltering. Millie wasn't kidding about turning her thermostat up to ninety. Dean adjusted it to a much more reasonable 74°F, and left to go tell Millie he'd fixed her radiator.

After she was done thanking him, he headed up to his room and called Sam.

"Dean?" Sam said. "I took care of Jennifer Bishop."

"I know, I saw her burn up," Dean replied. "Nicely done. Anyway, I got some new info about our second ghost."

"Yeah? Let's hear it."

"The lady staying in the room where Jennifer offed herself said she saw a glowing figure in a hazmat suit in her room, thought it was a sleep paralysis thing until I brought it up. She said it seemed like it was looking for something, but it didn't seem to find anything."

"So we have a second witness for our hazmat ghost," Sam said. "And the description lined up?"

"Exactly," Dean confirmed. "I also have a new theory about those siblings, the red-headed girl and her brother. I think the brother might be a psychic, and was looking for a way to help Jennifer pass on peacefully, except she wasn't a strong enough spirit for him to connect with. Not sure how or even if this ties into the hazmat ghost at all."

"Still no clues about who it could be?" Sam asked.

"Nada," Dean said. "I did confirm that there was no lab or any kind of scientific facility at this site before the hotel was built. According to the hotel manager, before it was a hotel, it was a movie theater that went out of business during the great depression and got torn down, and before that, it was live-theater, but I'm pretty sure that was before hazmat suits were even invented. Before that, nothing. Just an empty lot."

"So maybe we're looking for someone who died somewhere else and their spirit was brought to the hotel connected to a cursed object," Sam suggested. "Have you seen anything in the hotel that looks like it might have come from a lab? Or belong to some kind of scientist?"

"If it was something that belonged to them, then it could be anything," Dean pointed out in exasperation. "A chair, or a painting, or a vase? I'm not gonna be able to find it unless I know what it is."

"You'd better start looking into any deaths in the area that might have been related to radioactive materials then," Sam said. "Any kind of death that might have occurred while the deceased was wearing a hazmat suit."

"Yeah, something that would have burned right through it," Dean said. "According to our descriptions, the suit is partially melted."

"You got this Dean?" I still have two and a half hours of driving to go.

"Yeah, I got it," Dean replied.

He did not got it. He got nothing. He stayed at the library until it closed at eight and didn't find a single death that fit the description. He got back to the hotel around the same time Sam did.

"Did you fill the tank?" he asked immediately.

"Yes, Dean, I filled the tank," Sam replied, rolling his eyes. "Did you identify our hazmat?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I couldn't find squat. It's like this ghost is..."

"A ghost?" Sam finished for him, raising an eyebrow.

Dean scowled. That had been what he was about to say, but he knew it sounded stupid, that's why he'd stopped.

"Yeah."

Sam shook his head as they went back up to their room.

—

The brothers were still puzzling out what to do about their second ghost, Dean cleaning his guns while Sam poured over their dad's journal, when they heard a muffled gasp from above them. Floating there on the ceiling was a figure in a hazmat suit, its faint glow barely visible in the light of the room.

For an instant, none of them moved. Then, acting quickly, Dean grabbed the crowbar that was next to him on the bed and flung it at the figure on the ceiling.

Rather than passing right through, causing the hazmat ghost to dissipate, the crowbar made contact with a clang, hitting it right on the head and knocking it to the floor between the two beds.

"Quick, salt, Sammy!" Dean shouted, rather than gape at the seemingly unconscious 'ghost' on their floor.

He tried to grab the hazmat-wearing figure, and to his surprise, it worked. He dragged it into the armchair in their room while Sam laid a ring of salt around it.

"Do you actually think this'll work, Dean?" Sam asked. "I mean, it doesn't seem like any ghost I've ever seen. Iron is supposed to repel ghosts, not actually hit them. I'm pretty sure this is something else."

"Iron hurt it—"

"Being hit in the head with a crowbar hurt it," Sam pointed out. "Based on that, it could be human for all we know."

"It was on the ceiling, Sam," Dean said flatly, grabbing the iron chains from under the bed and wrapping them around their captive. "And this don't look like Spider-Man to me."

"Well it doesn't look like a ghost, either," Sam insisted.

"So, what, you think this is some kind of Scooby-Doo situation?" Dean asked. "We'll pull off the mask and it turns out it's just some shady real-estate developer who wanted to get the hotel closed down so they could turn it into a theme park? Let's try it then."

Dean grabbed the hood of the hazmat suit and tore it off. 

They both gasped at what they saw.

Whoever it was, he looked young, maybe 13 or 14. His hair was as white as sheet and floated on an imaginary breeze. His face was dark. Lightning-bolt scars criss-crossed it all the way down to the neck until they disappeared under the suit's collar. His skin appeared to be badly burned, flaking off in ashes which vanished before they hit the ground.

He groaned as he started to come back to consciousness, and when he opened his eyes, they were a solid, eerie green, glowing so brightly they almost hurt to look at, even in the well-lit room.

"Still think he's human?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam shook his head, wide-eyed and dumbstruck.

"This sure as hell never happened on Scooby-Doo."

"Ugh," the mysterious boy groaned again, blinking and shaking his head like he was trying to get his bearings. "Did you seriously throw a crowbar at my head?" he demanded after a moment. "What the hell, dude?!"

"What are you?" Sam demanded. "A demon?"

"I'm a ghost, what the hell does it look like?" the boy replied.

"You don't look like any ghost we've ever seen," Dean said.

"Let me guess, you're more used to shades like the other ghost that was floating around this hotel, right?" the kid guessed. "She seems to have left the building though. You two got any idea why?"

"We took care of her," Dean replied. "Sam dug her up and salted and burned her bones. And if you really are a ghost, then we can do the same to you."

"You... you straight up ended her?" he asked. "Just like that? You didn't even give her the chance to move on? Ancients, what the hell!"

"She had the chance to move on when she died, and she didn't take it," Dean said. "Instead she terrorized people, so we showed up to stop her."

"She gave a few people nightmares! Everyone has nightmares sometimes! You didn't have to destroy her!"

"What's it to you, did you know her?" Sam asked. "She a friend of yours?"

"Well... no, but I was trying to?" the boy replied. "She was too weak to capture, and I didn't want to destroy her by trying to fight, so I was trying to learn more about her and help her move on."

"If you're a ghost, why don't you move on?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, what's keeping you around?" Dean echoed the sentiment more harshly.

"The same thing preventing you from salting and burning my bones," came the reply. The so-called ghost did not elaborate.

"And what would that be?" Dean finally asked.

"I guess you could say I'm not dead enough yet."

"So you're not a ghost, then," Sam said.

"I am," said the boy. "I'm not a shade, like that woman you ended. I'm what a ghost is like when we actually have enough power to be a whole person and not just a shadow of our former self. I'm a ghost like you've never encountered before."

"Whatever you are, we're gonna get rid of you," Dean jeered.

"Why?" asked the boy. "I haven't hurt anyone. All I did was try to help another ghost pass peacefully through the veil. Don't you hunters have any sort of moral code?"

"So, what?" Sam asked. "You're proposing we just let you go?"

"Fat chance," Dean scoffed.

"Not exactly," the ghost replied with a smirk. "More like I'm telling you not to feel to guilty when I escape." Then the ghost stood up, iron chains falling right off him. "Iron is more difficult to pass through without destabilizing, but not too much of a challenge for ghosts like me. Sorry, but this will be the last time we see each other."

With that, he pulled his hood back on, obscuring his face once more, so the only thing visible was the glow of his eyes behind the black lenses of his mask. Then he flew right up through the ceiling.

The Winchesters tried to find him. They searched the hotel top to bottom, probably looking half-mad, but he was gone. He'd simply vanished without a trace. And they never did see him again.

[echoghost1]

Are You My Father? master post

Or my take on the Danny is actually Bruce Wayne's son dpxdc trope

Summary: It was just an average Saturday morning when a group of strangers come with news that changes everything the Fenton's thought they knew about their family.

The story so far

Chapter 1: The Ol’ Switcheroo

Chapter 2: What’s in a name

Chapter 3: Nervous as an Heir

[this-is-z-art-blog]

[ID: digital drawing of Sam Manson, Danny Fenton, and Tucker Foley leaning against each other, all three smiling widely, wearing orange Camp Half-Blood t shirts and necklaces with one bead each in blue, green, and yellow. Sam has one arm around Danny, hand on Tucker's shoulder, and is wearing a black and green plaid skirt, black boots, and a black star of david choker necklace. Her other arm is raised high, with a glowing green vine twining around her hand, down her arm, and weaving through her boot laces to wrap around her opposite ankle. Danny is wearing jean shorts and red sneakers. He has one arm around Tucker's waist, and the other cupped in front of him, a swirling, glowing curl of icy blue wind hovering above his palm. Tucker is wearing green cargo shorts, tan converse, and a backwards red ballcap. He has one hand forming a finger gun to frame his smile, and the other around Danny's shoulders. At his heels are small pairs of glowing yellow wings.]

@crossoverdanuary Day 3: Percy Jackson AU

Collab with @jus-a-lil-mouse, who came up with their godly heritages! Sam is a grandchild of Demeter, Danny a son of Boreas, and Tucker a son of Hermes

[fandonnavyce]

Jason in Wonderland

Crossover Danuary Day 4

Day 1 - Ben 10 Xover Tucker escapes Space Prison with the help of his two best friends

Day 2 - Atla Xover Hey, remember when Sokka got kidnapped into the Spirit World?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Slush kicks up in Jason’s wake as he stomps down Gotham’s street on Christmas Day.  Icy hands are bunched up in their sleeves, his curled fists jammed into his jacket’s pockets. The freezing wind slaps his face and Jason’s pissed he can’t slap it back.

“I’M LATE, I’M LATE! FOR A VERY IMPORTANT DATE! NO TIME TO SAY HELLO, GOODBYE, I’M LATE, I’M LATE, I’M LATE!” 

Speeding right past, and nearly bowling Jason over like a wrecking ball, a giant fucking rabbit thunders past. Jason stares in sheer astonishment as it hippity-hops and leaps into a massive green portal that Jason had apparently been too blind to notice until now.

Jason whips his head round to see if any other Gothamite is seeing this.

No one is seeing this.

And not in that ‘I see nothing cause that ain’t my business’ kind of way. His fellow Gothamite pedestrians are genuinely fully oblivious to the glowing hole in the fabric of reality and the giant anthropomorphic unseasonal Easter Bunny in their midst that had just bounced right into it.  

(Warning Long Post)

Coming out from the green glowing portal was the head of a werewolf peeking out, then the rest of its bestial body (clothed in a ragged green tracksuit) follows.

"That's probably everyone," says the werewolf as it lingers in front of the portal. It turns to head back into the portal.

On sheer impulse, Jason sprints down the street. Jason can feel the attention he’s drawing. He's 6 foot tall, has the shoulders of a linebacker, and is pounding the pavement like there are lives on the line. His fellow Gothamites calmly adjust out of his way.

The werewolf disappears through the green portal. With a desperate leap, Jason charges in right after.

Jason feels the portal close behind him.

Line break  

Then Jason is violently, painfully ill.

A burning sensation quickly builds inside his chest. A blistering heat is searing his heart. His heart thrashes in agony. Jason doubles over. His skin starts itching. Starts crawling. Jason’s fingers want to peel and pry the skin off his flesh for relief. Have slick wet blood gush and soothe his skin. Have the bleeding tears let his skin breathe in relief.  His hands are busy gagging his threatening vomit at the outbreak of his sudden vicious nausea. 

Then gravity decides to fuck around.

Jason is now plummeting, spiralling downwards into an unknowing, endless fall. 

There’s nothing more rage-inducing than being suddenly violently and incomprehensibly ill whilst in the midsts of fucking freefall. 

Jason’s screams shatter the air.

The werewolf whirls around. He sees the displaced, living human uncontrollably falling in a panicked frenzy behind him.

"Nu, tio ne estas bona". (Well that's not good).

With a single bound, Wulf approaches the human, then he smartly opens up another portal beneath the falling mortal, in order to send the human back to the physical realm, Gotham. 

But just as the human dipped into the portal, Wulf looks on in horror. He realises that the human was having a violent seizure whilst free falling. In the split second of that realisation, the human’s violent reaction interferes with his portal’s spatial displacement.

A clash of green, bursting light and hissing red blinds him. 

Once he can see again, the portal and the human are both gone.  Wulf doesn’t know where that young man has gone but he doubts it was Gotham, Earth.

Wulf sends thoughts and prayers for the young man.

Line break

“Fuuuuuuuuck!!!” 

Jason yells out into the uncaring green void when it finally stopped spinning. 

The fire in his chest died down to a thrumming burn; painful but tolerable. The skin crawling had lessened to a frustrating itch, the horrendous nausea was now motion sickness.   

"Hey Leather Jacket, you good?”

Coming to a slow stop next to him was a couple riding a motorcycle. Their skin colour was ash grey and the lady had unnatural green hair. 

“That’s fine”, thought Jason. “Everything’s unnatural here anyway.”

“You lost or something?" The man asks. Jason looks around at the swirling green void of a sky and floating broken islands he was drifting between.

"Yeah, you could say that. You wouldn't happen to know where Gotham is?" Jason asked without much hope.

"Oh yeah we know Gotham," the lady answered helpfully. Jason felt hope surge within. Maybe, he wasn’t completely fucked. "You’ll find it thataway. The Revolving River of Doors has recently migrated back so if you head over Skulker’s Island - “

“Do you know where Skulker’s Island is?” the dude interrupted. 

“Of course he knows where it is. Everyone knows where it is, amirite.” The girl smiles leadingly at Jason. Jason stares blankly back. The girl's eyebrows fly off her head in surprise. Just like a cartoon character. Silently, Jason watches the eyebrows float back into place. 

“Oh so you don’t know. How about that Johnny?”

“Yeah, how about that. You a hermit or something?”

“Or something” Jason bites back.

“Well anyway,” the girl continues, “from where we’re standing, Skulker’s Island is just a short Hunt away. The island has a gigantic skull stuck on it, so you can’t miss it.”

“You really can’t. A blind man can see that damn thing for miles.”

“You really can. Right so, once you’ve reached Skulker’s Island,”

“No wait, how do I get to Skulker’s Island?”

“Like I just said,” the lady repeats impatiently, “it’s only a short Hunt away.”

“... right, but to get there, which direction should I take?”

“Whichever one you please,” the girl answers airily, “it’s a short Hunt away.”

“Right, right. It’s a short hunt away. OK. But in which direction should I go from here?”

“Well that depends a good deal on how you want to get there?”

“I don’t much care how—” said Jason.

“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the lady.

“—so long as I actually get there,” Jason added, exasperated.

“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” she said, “it’s just a short Hunt away.”

“So what you’re trying to tell me is that I can pick any direction?”

“Any direction”

“Any direction at all,” the guy chimes in.

“And I’ll find Skulker’s Island,” Jason continues.

“Only a short Hunt away, exactly” the lady finishes. “So once there, you’ll want to head on over it. Not under it or around it but over it. If you try to go under or around it, you’ll likely end up in Alaska.”

The biker dude frowns at his girl, “Not Ember’s Lair?”

“Nah they’ve broken up.”

“Oh like for real?”

“This time maybe, yeah.”

“Ooof. What did Skulker do?”

“Get this. He forgot her Death Day.”

The dude gasped, “He forgot! But she has a wholeass song!”

“Fucking exactly! That’s what I said when Jazz told me.”

“RIP Skulker.”

“RIP Skulker.”

“A babe like that was out of his league anyway,” the dude leers. His girlfriend smacks him unimpressed.

“Why’d you smack me? I’m right!”

“I didn’t like the way you said it.” The girlfriend retorts, her hand on her hips.

“You didn’t like-” the dude acts flabbergasted, “oh c’mon Kitty, I didn’t mean nothing by it, so why are you”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jason interrupts unsorry, “but as the lady was saying?”

“Oooh lady,” she smiles, “I like the sound of that.”

The greasy haired ginger turns and death glares at Jason, which Jason ignores.

“So where was I?”

“That I should head over, not around or under, but over the island with the giant skull on it...”

“Right, so above Skulker’s Island you’ll see the Revolving River of Doors. And one of those doors will be a Purple Travesty to Gothic Art Deco. That's the door to Gotham.”

"But why are you heading on over to Gotham anyway?” the ginger-haired biker asks, now slouching grumpily over his handlebars. “You ain't attending the King's Not Christmas Shindig?"

The green-haired lady perks up, "Speaking of the King, bet he'd luuurve to see you."

Jason was sceptical, “Why would your King want to see me?”

“More like why wouldn’t he want to see you?” the biker dude drawled, “Like who even are you?”

“Someone who's way more confused than they were when they woke up this morning.”

“Oh!” the girl snapped her fingers, “You wouldn’t happen to want to adopt the King?”

“Or End the King”

“Or kill his Pops?”

“Or fuck his Mama?”

“Make his clones?”

“Mess with things beyond your power?”  

“And then dump the responsibility onto his lap?”

“Before ditching him to save your own skin?”

“...” Jason defensively crossed his arms. 

The couple were now leaning into his space, waiting attentively for his answer with creepy smiles on their faces.

“... No, I don’t want to do any of that.” 

“Awesome, then you’re perfect!” the girl cheered.

“Perfect, how? For not being a madman?!”

“Well c’mon now” the guy drawled, “we’re all mad here.” 

The couple’s grins grew wider.

Ooof if you managed to get all the way down here then don't forget to reblog to spread the post!😊

@crossoverdanuary

[gennydreams]

“So, why are we opening all the doors in the zone again?”

“Oh, come on, Sam. It’s for our map!” Danny said. “You never know which doors would be helpful in case something happens.”

“Or if Danny gets in trouble again and we need to know which doors to avoid under all costs.” Tucker added as they slowly followed behind Danny. “I do not want to have to eat another buffet’s worth of blood blossoms again!”

Sam sighed from inside the specter speeder. “I mean why go into the doors at all at this point? They all lead to some kind of disaster situation. Or worse, Klemper.”

The trio all shuddered at the reminder. There had been way too many instances of opening a door and it somehow leading back to Klemper’s lair.

“I don’t know, some of the doors are interesting. And besides this is way more interesting than studying for another one of Lancer’s tests.” 

“Woah! Look at this door!”

Danny had flown up in front of a beautifully carved door made of dark wood that had a large yellow cat’s eye taking up a third of the door.

“That one’s different. It’s not purple like the rest.” Tucker commented

“I’m gonna open it!”

Danny did so, revealing a psychedelic swirl that seemed to ripple along the doorframe. “Oooh, weird.” Danny said as he stuck his hand in and turned it intangible experimentally. It actually worked, which was a surprise given that most of his ghost powers didn’t work in the ghost zone.

“Maybe we should leave this door alone, guys? I feel like we might have learned our lesson about not going into mysterious portals just for the hell of it.”

“Sam’s right Danny, maybe we should leave this one alone.”

“Oh relax guys, it’s just this weird water stuff.”

“Still Danny, let’s just head back. Who knows when your parents are gonna notice we took the speeder again.” Sam worried.

“I’ll just take a quick look through it and be right back.” Danny turned intangible and dove into the water.

Twin shouts of his name cut off as his Fenton phone crackled with static while he sped through the water to come up shooting out of the water into this weird cavern place. There was this black gunky water below him and all these floating cubes surrounding him. If he listened closely he could hear these weird whispers echoing off the walls of this place. 

“Woah…”

Danny floated and spun in a slow circle looking at everything inside this lair.

“Hello?” His call echoed around him into the great expanse.

“Now this is something else. Wait till Sam and Tucker hear about this!”

Danny’s attention is then captured by one of the cubes lighting up and floating towards him.

“Hmm? What’s this?” Grabbing the cube he then felt something not unsimilar to getting sucked into the Fenton thermos before it cleared and he was looking at Sam and Tucker again. 

“What the!?”

“Danny?!” Sam and Tucker shouted, looking at the glass windshield of the specter speeder that Danny was now inhabiting.

“Woah, this is weird!”

“Danny, why would you do that! That was so irresponsible! And what are you doing?!”

“Chill out Sam, nothing bad happened and besides, this is pretty cool.”

“Dude, you cut out on us and disappeared without a trace. Not cool. And now you’re?!?!?! Inside the glass of the specter speeder?!?! Did one of your dad’s inventions malfunction or something?”

“Ah, Tuck, don't worry. It was just something in the lair. I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Do you even know how to get out of there?”

“I’ll figure it out. See ya!” Danny said before willing himself back to the weird place with all the cubes. “Man, this is a cool door. It’s definitely going on the map.”

“Curious. We don’t get people in these parts. You’re not even a demon!”

Danny whirled around at the new voice, throwing his fists up and powering an ecto-blast before taking in the stranger. It was a strange creature with a big visible skull with a weird bird tube coming out of one of his eye sockets, horns, sinewy wings, and a big bushy beard wearing a ratty robe and pajamas including a t-shirt that said “Bad Girl Coven” on it.

“Woah! What kind of ghost are you?”

“HA! Oh child, I am not a ghost. This place is a connection between the Demon Realm and the Human realm.”

“Woah! The Demon Realm? Is that like the Infinite Realms?” Danny asked floating closer and coming out of his fighting stance to sit criss-crossed in the air.

“Mmm. In a sense, I suppose it could be compared, yet the Demon Realm is more like earth while this place has a deeper connection to the Infinite Realms as it were.”

“Is this your lair then?”

“Oh, my child I do not have a lair. I just spend time here to watch over my son, King.” Another of the cubes shone and the creature took hold of it and tilted it towards Danny to show him a view from a window of another creature that looked similar to the one in the lair curled up on a couch with a stuffed rabbit and a human girl watching something on a high tech cell phone.

“That’s your son?”

“Yes. He’s grown into quite a sweet child. His adopted family is quite good to him, he ‘loafs’ them a lot. Ha! Bread pun!”

“HA! Is that the best you can ‘dough?’”

“Oh well done, young one! Perhaps you shall one day have to come back and share more bread puns with me.”

“Will do, Mister! Now, uh, how do I actually get out of here?”

“For you, I don’t think it will be too difficult. You should be able to fly back through the waters until you come out how you came in.”

“Thanks! We’ll see you again one day.”

Danny flew down through the water and out the door, closing it behind him before phasing into the specter speeder and heading home with his friends.

Written for @crossoverdanuary day 5: The Owl House

[crossoverdanuary]

Crossover Danuary Week 2024

Crossover Danuary Week is a daily prompt event. Each day has two prompts; a word prompt and a fandom prompt. The idea is that you can either choose a fandom and do the word prompt, or use the fandom to create something without the word prompt, or use both to create something of that fandom with that word prompt.

It will be the week of the 21st and last until the 27th (the last full week of January)

If you want to be @tagged on tumblr when we post announcements for this Event, please DM the Event Blog and I will add you to the tag list.

Create a piece for each prompt, then post them with the tag "#Crossover Danuary Week 2024" (make sure you do this so i can reblog them!)

Make sure to Ping This Blog When You Post.

Tumblrs tags are often wacky. If I do not reblog within 2 days, please tag me or send me a message.

They can be in any art form including writing and stories, music, painting and sculpture.

The general idea is to get people to try writing for new fandoms they wouldn't normally pay attention to, and just get more dp crossovers out there in general.

Continuations of previous crossovers count as well, the goal is to get more content out there :) You can also make fanart for your favorite crossovers.

Questions may be asked to this blog, and will be tagged "#Xover Danuary Q/A"

The rules and more info are available at the spreadsheet I have linked here.

Ao3 bookmarks

[jus-a-lil-mouse]

@crossoverdanuary Day 1: Prison

from @this-is-z-art-blog‘s phantom falls au.

Danny shifts, the costume he’s wearing itching through his shirt. He’s hot, sweatier than normal, and cannot believe that he’s doing this. He stomps around, the paw-shoes of the Abominable Snowman suit big enough that if he doesn’t pay attention to where he sets his feet, he’ll fall right into the metal bars of the cage he’s stuck in.

Why did Aunt Alicia even have a fake cage? And the costume? And dear God, why did Danny agree to this?

Dani opens the door to the main museum area. She sets his water bottle down near the shadowy corner of the cage. “Do you have to go before the tour comes in?” she whispers.

“No, I’m all set,” Danny whispers back. “Are you leaving soon?”

Dani grins wide. Right - that’s why he agreed to this. “Yeah! In just a minute. Thanks again for covering for me.”

“Just… Please learn how to drive the golf cart,” Danny replies. “You have to stop crashing the golf cart.”

Dani nods, but Danny knows she isn’t listening. They hear a bike bell from outside, and Dani perks up. “That’s Val! I’ll see you later. You’re the best, bro!” She gives him a thumbs up as she exits, and he weakly gives her a thumbs up back. She promised to bring back an entire pie from the Lunch Lady’s for him.

The door swings open again, and Aunt Alicia leads a tour group in. Danny shuffles his feet. He watches Alicia show off the other exhibits and seethes at all of the inaccuracies she’s spewing. The group is halfway around the room when he realizes Dash and Paulina are in the back of the group.

He gets even sweatier somehow, and turns to the door of the massive cage. The paw-shaped gloves make it impossible to grip the heavy door enough to open it. He frantically paws at it, desperate to make sure the other tweens don’t see him.

“And here you can see the ferocious yeti!” Alicia announced. Abominable snowman, Danny corrects silently. He turns around slowly. Dash’s eyes light up and Paulina disinterested stare turns cruel.

“It looks pretty small to me,” Paulina says, interrupting Aunt Alicia. “And so raggedy. Like a wimpy dork getting eaten by feather boa.”

“Yeah, I bet yetis aren’t even real,” Dash snickers. “Probably just some nerd in their fursuit.”

Danny was saved from further embarrassment by a tourist in the front. “Yetis are real,” he announces confidently. “This one is so wimpy because we’re too far north. It’s malnourished. Yetis live much further south than people expect.”

If Danny really was an abominable snowman, he’d be pulling his fur off. Yetis weren’t native to North America; their slightly smaller cousins the abominable snowmen were. But he couldn’t say anything because he was in a stupid costume. Shit, was Dash right? Is this a fursuit?

Alicia cut in, swiftly taking over the tour. Danny shuffled around and kicked at the floor. He’d show them. He’d get a real abominable snowman, using the Journal, and he’d show them all.

[jadenoryuu]

Don't worry, it happens to the best of us! 😁👍

(Btw, you posted the Danuary schedule few hours after me sending this ask, so I didn't mind not having my ask answered.)

I would be totally in for being pinged, but only if you have the time! Real life is such a time consuming thing, so I will totally understand if you happen to forget about it.

That being said, the 5-weeks schedule works just fine and luckily January 2024 will still have them!

I'm looking forward this Danuary, I've already got some... supervillainous thoughts.... 😈👽

Hiya, hope you're doing okay!

I have a question about Danuary, if that's okay, no pressure, I'm just vibrating on the edge of my seat... (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

The schedule says that in these days there should be the voting for the media to cross with... I didn't miss the post with the link of the poll, did I? (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠)

Thank you for hosting this event again!

Ahhhh crap i totally missed this post

Sorry about that-was in a bit of a time crunch for school

It's possible you did miss it- i think next year ill have to create a list of people who want to opt in to pings of the new posts, because i feel like spreading awareness is hard on this site sometimes

In general, i have it planned out to be a 4 week schedule-

Week 1 being the suggestions(jan 1st to that week's Saturday )

Week 2 being the poll (sun-sat)

Week 3 having the poll finished and daily fandoms revealed

Week 4 being Crossover Danuary itself (which is the *last full sun-sat week* in January)

And the week 5 being an extra day or two of honorable mentions

(I'll have to change it again when we don't have 5 weeks in January haha)

Sorry for the confusion, is there anything you think would make it more clear in the future?

[dragonshoardofworks]

Danuary24_ Free Day (+ Voyage?)

I'm a bit late because I wanted to clean the sketches digitally, but @crossoverdanuary you can blame @cleanlenins and their birthday present for this idea! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

In this crossover, when the Portal Incident happened, Danny got Isekai-ed into the One Piece World early in the East Blue saga (still haven't decided exactly when).

It's also (back in Amity) a No One Knows AU, so when the Portal started working "out of nowhere", Danny seemingly disappeared in the same period (no one could actually pinpoint when, though, due to neglect).

Was Danny friends with Tucker and Sam? Did they even exist in this Amity at all? No clue, but the only thing I know for certain is that Danny was a lonely boi...

Until the Strawhats happened, that is.

Like canon, Danny needed a while to start learning how to use his powers, which were such a trial and error thing that he ended getting a slightly different "moveset", so to speak:

Basic common powers + Ghost Form_ ✓

Ice powers_ ✓ (after Drum/Alabasta)

Overshadowing_ X (technically he still could, but has no idea it's a viable option)

Weakness to the Seastone_ ✓ (it has the same properties as the Ectoranium)

Telekinesis_ ✓

Ghostly Wail_ ✓ (post Water 7, if you know what I mean) However, it leaves him so drained that in addition to going back to human form, he's also unable to move for a while (pre-time skip)

Devil Fruit Sense_ ✓ (works like Ghost Sense)

Duplication_ X

(NEW) Spiritual Extraction:

If an object has enough personality/presence, Danny can extract/create a spiritual projection (or even a ghost if the physical object is destroyed) of it. The "blob ghosts" thus created are capable of interacting (minor powers included) with the material world depending on how much of his ectoplasm he feeds them. The Going Merry is the first example of it (AKA the first pic), followed shortly after the Gomu Gomu no Mi and the Hito Hito no Mi (Luffy and Chopper's Devil Fruits). (Oddly enough, the Hana Hana no Mi and the Hono Hono no Mi, Nico Robin's and Ace's fruits respectively, can't be projected, but they dismiss it as Danny's weird biology.) Few other objects that can be affected include the Wado Ichimonji, the Sandai Kitetsu and Luffy's Hat. (Still deciding what else to add.)

More details under the cut (Lenn it will definitely be spoiler-y for you, since you're still at Water 7, so read at your own risk! (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) )

As you probably have already guessed if you're following the Japanese scans, the reason Luffy's fruit can be projected is because it's a Zoan.

The reason for this is that the manga said that Zoan have their own personality (which could overwhelm the user if their will isn't strong enough) and so I interpreted that this implies also a spirit/soul within!

(Thus, in the second pic, the mini swirly sun over the sleeping Danny, Merry and Sunny is Nika, who's bewildered by the mere concept of staying still and resting. You should move and have fun!!)

Other spoilery plot things include:

Usopp never deflected at Water 7 (there was still angst about the physical death of the Merry, but having her literal spirit hanging out with and scolding you if you were spiraling helped immensely);

Franky's personality (since he's one of his creators) rubbed off Sunny, so he's prone to join him in his dances and screaming "SUUUUUPEEEERRR!";

Danny gives off passive harmless ectoplasm radiations (moreover when he's in ghost form) that the Merry feed on when she's a full ghost and so doesn't need any active recharge;

because of his high metabolism, Danny has to eat either a lot (not Luffy-levels) or food choke-packed of nutrients. They also notice that the rawer the meat, the less Danny needs to eat (since it has higher content of non-degraded ectoplasm);

As I was writing the previous point, a thought occurred to me: could this also be a Ghost Hunger AU where Danny also feeds on emotions? 🤔 Let's keep it on maybe, because with Luffy around it would be like a nuclear reactor to feed on. No, I changed mind again, it's a YES, because there's no Ambient Ectoplasm in the One Piece world (contrary to what I headcanon Amity Park), so the only way for Danny to survive at all would be to stay on Luffy's side almost constantly.

And this leads me to the timeskip separation: because of the battle with Kizaru and the Pacifistas, and consequent use of 1-2 Wails, Danny has to retreat to his Core (first time ever happened), causing panic and forcing Luffy to stash it in the ribbon of his hat due to the heat of the battle (and so be separated along with him).

Danny stays unconscious two whole arcs, until Luffy is about to die of poison on Level 5 of Impel Down. He still hasn't enough energy to manifest outside his Core, but he gives his Captain as much as he could to keep him alive until the Okamas find and save them; he continues to do so even during the Hormone Treatment, having received a boost from Bon Kure and the others' emotional cheering.

After a short rest (he fainted) made during the escape, Danny wakes up again at Luffy's Conqueror Haki shout and given how much death and despair there's in the air, he's able to manifest again and speed up the rescue.

Who lives and who dies? No clue, but given my bleeding heart, Ace Lives, but not without grave injuries for the three of them (maybe so much that Danny ends again into his Core).

I just realized that this could end with Danny adopted officially into the ASL (Luffy had already started the process)... Our boy Danny is so Adoptable™ LMAO

Sabo regains his memories at the news of the close call and hijacks any mode of transportation to reach the trio. Two years timeskip happen with quartet bonding and training, then into the New World We Go!

Nothing else comes to mind at the moment, but I guess that I already said enough, don't I? (≧∇≦)

[this-is-z-art-blog]

[ID: digital drawing of Danny standing in the rigging of a ship just visible in the corner of the frame. He's in black pants, white boots with black buckles, a white shirt, and cropped black jacket, and has a few silver earrings. He's gazing admiringly up into space. The background shows visible planets near and far and a large scattering of stars.]

@crossoverdanuaryanuary 2024: Day 2, Cartoons, Voyage. Treasure Planet!

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Why Are Seers Always Cursed? (3)

Wesley Weston is a son of Apollo with the rare gift of prophecy.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week 2024, Day three: Percy Jackson | Lake

This takes place shortly before Annabeth, Luke, and Thalia arrive at Camp Half-Blood, and while Wes is still in middle school, meaning it's set before the primary canon events of both series. You can also read it on AO3!

Chapter 3: Downhill Fast

First | Previous

[Warning for mild violence]

Over the next two weeks, Wes started to really get the hang of Camp Half-Blood. A few more campers had arrived, including another Apollo Camper close to Wes' age named Lee Fletcher. The two of them got on really well right out of the gate. Wes did not manage to get out of explaining to Archer that he had the gift of prophecy, but for some reason, Archer told him that it would be wiser to keep it secret from anyone outside of Apollo Cabin.

Wes wasn't sure why, but he was starting to get the sense that his ability was more dangerous than it seemed. Archer warned that people might try to take advantage of him, or pick on him because they saw him as having an unfair advantage himself. So Wes' powers of foresight became cabin seven's little secret.

Unsurprisingly, Wes demonstrated a knack for archery. He'd never done it before, but it was like the bow simply belonged in his hands. His cabin-mates were very encouraging and helped him with his form so the bowstring didn't snap against his forearm. They were also fun to play basketball with. Wes established a personal record of scoring 90 feet from the hoop. Nowhere near the cabin's record, but still basically a full-court shot.

He wasn't as good as the others in the infirmary, but he wasn't so useless that they sent him out. They mostly had him cut bandages and get things for them, which was fine by Wes. 

When it came to singing camp songs, Wes was exposed for his awful singing voice, but he was picking up the ukulele remarkably fast, so maybe he had inherited a little bit of Apollo's musical talents. Not as much as Lee, though; he was a regular musical prodigy as far as Wes was concerned. At only thirteen, he could play several instruments and his singing voice was downright mellifluous.

The one thing Wes really struggled with in the Apollo Cabin was seeing his cabin mates as his siblings. Technically they were, but Wes already had siblings. These people were basically strangers in comparison. And it didn't really help that he'd made a conscious decision not to think of Apollo as anything like a father to him back when he was ten years old. 

The Apollo campers were warm, and accepting, and he liked them a lot... but they weren't family. Not yet, at least.

Aside from that, the only thing that really bothered him about this place was the pine tree that wasn't there, the one he kept seeing on the crest of the hill.

He brought it up to Chiron once, in private, and Chiron told him that sometimes they couldn't know what a prophecy meant until it came to pass. Wes only begrudgingly accepted that answer. He didn't like it.

What was the point of seeing the future if it didn't make sense until it became the past?

That pine tree became increasingly frustrating. Even more so than the monster attacks. They weren't daily or anything, but there had been two so far, counting the drakon, and both had been taken care of with only mild injuries and no deaths. That pine tree though....

Once, when Wes saw it, there was something gold hanging in its branches, and a dragon wrapped around its trunk fast asleep. Then he blinked, and the golden thing and the dragon were both gone. Then he blinked and the tree was gone too.

At the end of the second week, there was a terrible summer storm. For some reason, while the storm raged, Wes' eyes were drawn to the top of the hill. Each time a strike of lightning lit up the darkness, the pine tree appeared, just for that instant, before vanishing again. That felt important, but Wes didn't know why.

He told Archer about it, but Archer just told him the same thing Chiron did.

He didn't like it any better the second time.

Then, one night, Wes had a dream. He dreamed about the pine tree. About lightning striking, about a hoard of monsters straight from Hades.

The forbidden child approaches, the dream told him. The forbidden child approaches.

When he awoke, he thought about telling Chiron again, but then he remembered what he'd said before.

"You can't always know what a prophecy means until it comes to pass."

Wes sure as Hades didn't know what a 'forbidden child' was, and Chiron had already said he had no idea what the pine tree meant. Maybe this was one of those things where he should just wait and see how it panned out, rather than bothering anybody with his stupid dreams again.

Although... the last time he'd had a dream like that, it had told him Apollo would visit his mom.

But Apollo hadn't been in this dream. Just that stupid pine tree and a bunch of monsters. And it wasn't even worth it to warn everybody of monsters coming because he had no idea when this was going to happen.

Maybe he should ask anyway.

"Hey, Chiron," he asked the centaur during archery practice, "Do you know what a forbidden child is?"

Suddenly, Wes felt as if he'd been struck by something heavy falling on him. He stumbled and let go of his bowstring and the arrow missed the target by a mile. As it left his bow, he could swore the whistling sound it made as it shot toward a tree trunk sounded like an apology.

"Sorry, kid," it said. "I hate to do this to ya. I can't defy my father, you understand." Then it pierced the tree trunk with a thunk.

"My, are you alright, Wes?" Chiron asked.

"I'm... fine, but my question."

"I'm afraid not," he said. "I suppose if a child were to be sired by one of the three most powerful gods they might be considered a forbidden child, since the three of them swore on the River Styx not to sire children. But no such child exists."

"What if one did?" Wes asked. "And what if they were coming here and a whole bunch of monsters were chasing them?"

"That would be preposterous," Chiron assured him. "None of those gods would go back on their word, not when it's so important for them to honor it."

"But I saw it happen!" Wes insisted. "I saw three demigods and satyr climbing that hill," he pointed to the camp's border. "I saw them being chased by a horde of monsters from the underworld. I heard the trees whisper that a forbidden child approaches. I saw it in my dream last night."

"Dear boy," Chiron said. "You may have the gift of prophecy, but not every dream is prophetic. There is no forbidden child, and no horde of monsters. I can assure you. I hope you'll be able to calm down now."

"What?"

This didn't make any sense. Chiron's advice was sometimes frustrating, but he'd never been dismissive like this. He knew what Wes could do, what he could see. He knew that prophecies should be taken seriously. So what the heck was this?

"Why don't you focus on your archery for now?"

"But...." Wes was too confused to formulate a proper argument. He shook his head, his face scrunched up in a mix of emotions. "Okay...."

Wes lifted the bow again and lined up his shot. This time, his arrow flew true, and landed right in the bull's eye. But again, the sound of the arrow taking flight was a whispered apology.

"I cannot defy my father's wishes," it said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

That night, Wes had the same dream again. The forbidden child approaches. The forbidden child approaches.

A few days later, on an otherwise ordinary evening, while the campers were enjoying dinner, it happened. An uproarious cacophony of monstrous shrieks and bellows shook the valley. The blue sky darkened as smoke rose up from the far side of the hill.

Wes sprinted to get his bow and arrows and followed the rest of his cabin mates to the ridge while the other campers headed for the hilltop. 

They couldn't get ready fast enough.

They weren't even halfway to their positions when four figures crested the hill, three demigods and a satyr.

"Go!" one of the figures, a girl, shouted. "I'll hold them off!"

She stopped at the top of the hill, wielding a spear and a shield, and the other three kept running. She fought valiantly, slashing and stabbing at bat-winged creatures and hell hounds until they overwhelmed her, and she fell.

It was only then that the other campers finally got close enough to help her.

They were too late. Wes knew it innately. That girl was the forbidden child, and she was going to die.

Without warning, a bolt of lightning shot out of the clear blue sky, and struck the girl. Then she started to change. 

As the battle raged around her, she grew bark and sprouted branches until a tall, proud pine tree stood where she'd once been lying, half-dead on the ground. 

Wes had seen that tree before. This time, though, it was actually real. It didn't disappear when he tried to blink it away.

A pulse of light emitted from the tree, expelling all the monsters from within the bounds of the camp. Then the light faded, leaving an invisible barrier protecting all the demigods within its bounds.

Later, the three who survived explained what happened. The satyr, Grover Underwood told them all that Thalia was a child of Zeus, a forbidden child. He explained that ever since he'd found her, creatures of Hades had been chasing them. Hades himself had sent them, angry at his brother for breaking their pact.

Wes kept his anger contained until Chiron dismissed everyone. He waited until everyone else was gone. He stayed silent.

"Is something wrong, Wes?" Chiron asked, noticing that he wasn't going to leave.

"I told you this was going to happen," he said, barely keeping a lid on his rage. "I warned you about the forbidden child, about the monsters from Hades, all of it. You didn't listen to me. You told me it was just a dream. 

"If you'd just listened, we could have done something. We could have put a group of guards up on the hill. We could have been prepared for this! Thalia Grace didn't have to die!"

"I'm sorry," Chiron said. "I don't know what came over me. I knew of your abilities, and yet... when you told me about the forbidden child, it was as if... ah... I see...."

"What?" Wes did not accept this apology. He glared viciously at the centaur.

"Did you hear anything else? That day you told me about your dream, or afterwards?" 

His glare eased as he thought about it.

"Actually, right before I told you, when I stumbled and my arrow misfired, it sounded like an apology" Wes recalled. "And then again the next time I fired at the target. 'I'm sorry. I cannot defy my father,' is what it said."

"The arrow spoke to you?" Chiron repeated derisively, but he quickly shook his head with pained expression. "My apologies.

"It is the fate of all oracles that such great power must come at a price," he said. "Either one must make a willing sacrifice to balance out that power, such as the Oracle of Delphi does, living as a maiden her whole life in a cave. Or, the gift will lead the bearer to be cursed, such as Tiresias who was inflicted with blindness, or... Cassandra.

"I believe Zeus did not want the secret of his child to get out," he continued, "so he had his son Apollo inflict you with Cassandra's curse to prevent you from sharing what you knew, or rather, to prevent anyone from believing you, even if you did."

"What exactly is this curse?" asked Wes.

"That you may see the future, but that you cannot share it with anyone, for they will never believe you," Chiron answered. "It's a terrible curse. It means only you alone will ever be able to benefit from your abilities, but you cannot help others with them."

"Is there a way to break it?" Wes asked.

"I'm afraid not," the centaur answered mournfully. "A seer's curse cannot be broken. Even those who know of the curse will have difficulty overcoming it's effects. Even I... well, you've seen already. I have a strong enough will to fight my initial reaction if I'm ready for it, but my initial reaction will always be disbelief. I'm sorry, Wes."

Chiron's appraisal turned out to be right on the money. As much fun as Wes had at camp that summer, and as much as he learned and grew, his precognition became completely useless. Even his cabin-mates, who already knew about his powers, didn't believe his visions until they came true.

Sometimes people would even ignore things Wes didn't realize were prophecies. The entire Aphrodite Cabin got poison ivy, all because their counselor didn't listen when Wes said to take the other path.

The same thing happened when he went back home at then end of the summer. His mother, who always humored his hunches before, now fully dismissed them. His father would laugh like Wes was telling him a joke.

And the next summer, when he returned to Camp Half-Blood, it was the same story. 

Now that they had a magic barrier, there weren't any monster attacks to keep their skills sharp, they'd introduced regular games of Capture the Flag in the woods. It was the perfect opportunity for Wes to use his foresight to help his team win, but when none of them would listen to him, he had to go ahead on his own.

He won the game for his team, but it wasn't as satisfying as he'd thought it would be.

It was a relief when he finally went home for the summer. He wasn't looking forward to starting high school, but outside of camp, there were a lot fewer situations where not being able to tell people about his visions was a serious problem. Or so he thought.

Strange things happened in Amity Park that year. There were monsters around town that everyone could see, ghosts, rather. Not from Greek myths, but from a portal to another realm in the Fentons' basement.

Wes tried to make it not his problem, he really did.

Until the night he woke up in a cold sweat with prophetic knowledge echoing in his brain.

Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom.

But no one would ever believe him.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Have You Ever...

Danny gets invited to a hero convention as Danny Phantom, and his booth is next to none other than the legendary Ben 10, one of Danny's own favorite heroes. But when the two start playing a modified version of Never-Have-I-Ever to alleviate their boredom between handshakes with fans, they accidentally expose some things they didn't really mean to.

You can also read it on AO3

Written for X-over Danuary Week 2024, Day 1: Ben 10 | Prison Thanks @crossoverdanuary for running this!

I got a late start because I had DnD today, and I finished this at like 10pm, so I didn't have time to edit. I'm planning on editing it later this week, but until then, sorry for any mistakes. [Edit: it has now been edited]

[Warning for mentions of past traumatic experiences]

It was weird to see such a huge convention center so empty.

Well, it wasn't completely empty, but a few people carrying boxes and setting up displays was a significantly smaller crowd than Danny would normally expect to see in a place like this.

"Ah! Danny Phantom you're here!" A woman with a high ponytail and a convention staff t-shirt walked over to him. "Wow, I'm so excited that you actually came!" 

Her voice was familiar.

"Sally, right?" he guessed. "Sally Braddock?"

"You remembered!" She said brightly.

Sally had been the one who'd convinced Danny to come to this convention. She'd offered him pretty substantial payment, but it was only when she told him he could have three free tickets to the convention as well that Tucker told him he had to agree or they wouldn't be friends anymore. 

So here he was, at San Diego Hero Con, halfway across the country, to sit at a table and sign autographs for a few hours each day, and then do an hour-long panel with a bunch of other teen heroes, and another tomorrow on specifically ghost hunting. (He was still debating whether he should actually show up to that one, or if it would be too dangerous.) The worst part, though, was how early he had to wake up to set up his booth before the event started.

"Here's your presenter badge," Sally said, and handed him a bright yellow name tag clipped to a blue lanyard with the convention's logo on it. "Celebrity meet-and-greets are over there. I'll lead the way. We try not to put them too close to each other or the lines get out of control, but your booth is right next to Ben 10's."

Danny perked up at that. "The alien guy?"

"Yup!"

Oh, man, he hoped he'd get the chance to talk to him. Ben 10 was Danny's favorite superhero. He got to fight real life aliens, sometimes in actual space! And sure, Danny had been to space before that one time Technus had taken over a satellite, but it had still been a ghost fight. It wasn't the same.

"So, this is your table," Sally said, pointing to an empty, white folding table. "Do you have a tablecloth, or banners or headshots or anything?" she asked him with a tight smile.

"Uh.... I don't photograph well," he replied.

Sally sighed. "Well, I can bring over one of the convention tablecloths, but you really should get some kind of poster or cardboard cut-out or something that shows people who they're meeting. And you'll definitely need something to sign. Comic books, or T-shirts. Anything, really. There's a portrait artist in Artists Alley who works pretty fast, her name is Jess. If you get something from her, I can send a gopher to make copies for you to sign." 

"Uh, okay? But, I can just call a friend to bring something."

"Whatever works." With that, Sally left to go organize something else.

Danny called up Sam, who was back at the hotel with Tucker—Tucker would no doubt still be sleeping—and asked her to find a nearby print shop and get a Danny Phantom Banner to hang up and a whole bunch of 8x10 illustrations of him. He let her pick the picture, but asked her to please not pick anything too embarrassing.

Right as he hung up, a pair of people approached the booth next to him carrying plastic tubs. It was none other than Ben 10 himself and a tall, furry, blue alien who was no doubt one of his allies. (That or a cosplayer, but since they were with Ben 10 himself, Danny felt safe in assuming that they really were an alien.) The two of them placed their tubs on the floor and opened them up to start unpacking their display.

"Woah, hi!" Danny said, louder than he meant to.

Ben 10 snapped his head around, muscles tensing. Danny recognized that response all too well, and tried not to let out a sympathetic wince.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said. "You're Ben 10, right? I know this is cringey to say, but I'm a huge fan."

"Uh, thanks? Just Ben is fine."

"I'm Danny Phantom, but you can just call me Danny."

"I can see that... uh... nice to meet you?" Ben replied. He seemed uncomfortable. Had Danny come on too strong.

"Something wrong?"

"What? No, of course not," Ben said, though it wasn't very convincing.

"I am Rook Blonko," Ben's companion said, offering Danny a handshake which he excitedly accepted. "It is an honor to meet another hero, though I will admit, it was only recently that I came to learn about you." 

"Oh, yeah," Danny let out an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his head. "My scope is a lot more regional and sometimes not very... in this dimension." 

"That would be... the Ghost Zone, right?" Ben said casually. "What's it like? Anything like the Null Void?"

So he was at least somewhat familiar with Danny and his exploits. Danny tried not to let that go to his head, but he couldn't help feeling a little giddy nonetheless. Ben laid down a black tablecloth with his logo on it and spread it across his table. This definitely wasn't his first rodeo.

"I don't know about the Null Void," Danny said. "It's like the bottom side of this dimension. It's where ghosts live... or... not live. Reside. Almost everything is green because of all the ectoplasm there, and when humans go there, they can pass right through walls and objects just like ghosts can in this dimension."

"That does not sound like the Null Void at all," Rook observed, pulling rods and boards out of one of the boxes and assembling them into a small standing shelf.

"What's the Null Void like?" Danny asked.

"Mostly red," Ben said with a shrug. "Full of floating islands and enormous aliens. Used as a penal colony for this dimension's worst criminals."

"Oh... yeah, no. Aside from the floating islands, that doesn't sound anything like the Ghost Zone," Danny agreed. "Although it's kind of a cool coincidence that we both have experience with alternate dimensions."

"Yeah, I guess so." Ben looked over at Danny and his sad excuse for a booth—really looking for the first time. "First time at one of these things?"

"Oh yeah," Danny confirmed. "My friend is bailing me out at a print shop right now, but I was so unprepared."

Ben snorted. "Here," he said, digging through one of his boxes and pulling out a bright green swath of fabric. "You can use one of my tablecloths. I brought an extra, just in case. It has my logo on one side, but if you turn it around so the logo faces you no one will be the wiser. We have basically the same color scheme, so it works out."

"Thanks," Danny accepted the tablecloth, slightly surprised, and spread it out over his table. It was almost exactly ectoplasm green, just a shade or two darker. "Have you been to a lot of conventions?"

"A few," Ben said.

"This is your fourth," Rook said.

"That sounds right. If it hadn't been for Rook, I probably would've been just as lost as you at my first one. He's all about preparing in advance. But yeah, I've been a public hero for over a year now, and since my identity isn't a secret anymore, it's easier for the people who run these things to get a hold of me."

"About that... why don't you have a secret identity?"

"It wasn't exactly my choice," Ben replied. "Some kid found it out and exposed me on the internet. It turned out surprisingly well, though, for the most part. Must be nice for you though, not having an alternate identity—not that being dead is nice or anything like that—I mean, it's not a bad thing—or it is a bad thing? I uh... yeah, I don't know what I'm saying."

After taking a moment to parse that rambling sentence, Danny burst out laughing. 

"Hahaha! Is that why you're acting so uncomfortable around me? Because I'm dead? Ha! You don't have to worry about that. You're fine."

"Serious?"

"Dead serious," Danny replied with a smirk.

Ben shook his head with a soft laugh. "Alright, fine.... Actually, that's not the only reason. Back when I was ten and just starting out I had... a bad experience with a ghost-like alien of mine. Ever since, ghost stuff just puts me a little on edge."

"Oh... I see. Well, don't worry, I won't take it personally," Danny said. "Did you really start doing this when you were ten?"

"Yeah. Although I kinda retired for a few years when I was eleven, and started up again when I was fifteen."

Danny did some quick math in his head. "Oh, so altogether, you and me have been in this for about the same amount of time. 'Cause I got started a little over two years ago."

"Yeah?" Ben was silent for a few moments. He pulled out boxed figurines of his alien forms and lined them up on the shelf Rook had assembled. "So... when did you...."

"Die?" Danny finished for him. "I was fourteen. I'm almost seventeen now. In about three months, I mean."

"Do you still age?"

"Sort of?" Danny shrugged.

He and Jazz had come up with an answer to this question a little while ago, when people noticed that Danny Phantom was starting to look older, even though ghosts supposedly didn't age.

"A ghost's body is a reflection of their mental image of themself. In the Zone, ghosts don't really age or change unless something specific happens that makes them feel older or different. Because I spend so much time in the human world still, because I learn and grow with each fight, I still feel like I'm growing up, so I look like I'm growing up, too."

"That is fascinating," Rook said. "I would love to learn more about ghostly biology."

"I would love to tell you about it. Problem is, I really don't know that much," Danny told him apologetically. He shrugged. "Sorry. I'm a superhero, not a scientist."

"I'm here!" Sam called, her heavy combat boots tromping into the room. She was carrying a large cardboard box. "I would have been here sooner, but I had to put together a design for the banner. Luckily I found a printer that could make one for you on short notice like this, or you'd be screwed."

"You're a life saver!"

"You wish," she scoffed. "I got you a banner and three hundred head shots."

"That's not gonna be enough," Ben said immediately.

"Ya think?" Sam asked.

"Trust me."

She sighed heavily in annoyance. "Okay, I can go back and get some more, but you so owe me, Danny."

"Yeah, I know," Danny said, taking the box from Sam. "You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, taking one of the head shots off the top of the stack and leaving again.

"Is that your friend?" Ben asked.

"One of them," Danny confirmed, setting the box down on the table. "That's Sam. She and Tucker have been with me since the beginning. He's probably still asleep at the hotel."

He pulled out a stack of head shots for the table and slid the box with the rest underneath. She'd picked a good picture. It was a poster illustration for a local ghost awareness presentation he'd done a while back, and he nearly sighed with relief when he saw it. He'd been half afraid she'd pick one of the grainy newspaper photos of him in his underwear.

"That's cool," Ben said. "Yeah, I don't think anyone could do this job without allies. When I first started, I had my Grandpa and my cousin, then my cousin and my best friend, and now I have Rook as my partner."

"We have been together for a year," Rook added.

"Like... together together or...?"

"Working partners," Ben clarified insistently. "It's not like that."

"Oh, okay, my bad."

Hoping to alleviate his embarrassment, Danny unfurled his new banner and flew up to hang it on the wall behind his booth. It looked cool, but not too complicated. Just his name and logo and a little bit of ghost designs around the edges. Sam had done a good job with it.

"You are not the first to think that," Rook consoled. "It is a more common assumption than one might think."

They continued chatting idly while they set up their booths. Danny got to ask Rook what kind of alien he was, and what his home planet was like. Sam showed up with a whole bunch more photos and then immediately abandoned them to get a sneak preview of artist alley before she came back as an attendee.

Just before the convention center officially opened, Danny worked up the courage to ask Ben for an autograph, and Ben obliged him with a smile, offering an exchange, rather than asking for payment. Danny eagerly accepted, signing one of his own pictures and trading it for Ben's. Ben's looked far more professional than his own. He hoped people wouldn't be disappointed.

As people started trickling in past the security checkpoint up front, both heroes only got a few people in the beginning. After only about twenty minutes of boredom, Ben suggested they play a game.

"Sure," Danny agreed. "What game?"

"My buddy Kevin calls it Reverse-Never-Have-I-Ever, and my cousin calls it Have-You-Ever." Ben said. "See, we could never play regular Never-Have-I-Ever, because we all knew all the weird stuff we'd done and we'd target each other mercilessly. With this version, You say something you have done, and anyone who hasn't done it loses a point. If everyone's done it, no one loses a point."

"Okay... I think I get the idea, but why don't you start? Five fingers or ten?"

"Let's start with five," Ben said. "Rook, you playing?"

"I will pass," Rook said. "I always lose this game."

"Alright, if that's what you want." Ben shrugged. "Alright, Danny, have you ever... transformed into a different species?"

"Yes."

"You have?!"

"Uh, yeah. I went from human to ghost. Duh."

"Oh... right, duh," Ben agreed, shaking his head at how foolish he'd been to blow his first question like that. "Wow, I can't believe I didn't even think about that...."

"My turn, right?" Danny said. "Have you ever fought an evil alternate version of yourself?"

"Yeah, like six of 'em."

"Okay, well, now you're just showing off."

Ben smirked. "Oh, I never get to use this one on my friends. Have you ever been to space?"

Danny smirked right back. "One of my rogues possessed an orbital satellite."

"Damn it!" 

Someone walked over to Danny's table and he smiled at her, pointedly ignored the way she shivered when he shook her hand, and signed a photo for her.

"Okay," he said, shifting his attention back to the game, "have you ever... been cut in two."

"I regenerated, but yeah."

"How?" Danny demanded.

"Plant alien."

"I should've guessed. Stupid plant creatures with their stupid regenerative powers. Undergrowth-ass alien. Lame." 

Ben laughed at him while he signed a figurine for a fan who came to his table. "How about this. Have you ever fought a medieval-style knight?"

"A knight? Hold on." Danny considered that for a moment. Had he? He'd rescued Sam from Dora's realm that one time, and yeah, he'd definitely had to fight the ghosts of knights then. Oh! Also Fright Knight. How could he forget about him. "Yes, I have definitely fought knights on several occasions. Ghost knights, obviously."

"Ugh! I really thought I had you with that one. Why do ghosts who died a thousand years ago have to stick around for so long?"

"Nope!" Danny teased. "Okay, how about this one. Have you ever fought a ghost?"

"Define ghost?" Ben asked.

"The law defines a ghost as any creature which produces ectoplasm, is composed of ectoplasm, or requires ectoplasm to survive," Danny recited. 

There was no need to say which law—that would be the anti-ecto acts. It was stupid that those stupid acts were still even law when public support of ghosts had never been higher. Although, they hadn't been as heavily enforced the last year or so, since the G.I.W. lost a lot of funding after repeatedly failing to catch their most wanted, Danny.

"Then yes, I have," Ben said. "Have you ever fought an alien?"

"Define alien."

"A creature originating from a planet or plane other than Earth."

"Then yes, ghosts."

"Ah ah ah!" Ben argued. "Ghosts are the spirits of dead humans, which means they originate on Earth."

"Except that not all ghosts are the spirits of dead humans," Danny countered right back. "Many ghosts originally formed inside the Ghost Zone, which makes them, by your definition, aliens, and I have fought them, too. Also I fought off some Incurseans back when they invaded the Earth a little while back. It was awesome." 

Ben groaned.

"Haha! Gotcha!"

"Just go already."

"Have you ever died?"

"Ha! Yes, I have," Ben said, as if dying was some huge victory. "You probably thought you had me, but you were wrong. I may have been brought back through alien magic and/or time travel, but yes, I have died. Speaking of which, have you ever time-traveled."

"Psh, have I time traveled?" Danny scoffed. "I have literally met the Ancient, omniscient Master of Time. He's a huge pain in the neck."

It was at this point that more people started accumulating at the two heroes' tables. Some got in line for autographs, though both Ben and Danny were too engrossed in their game at this point to give their full attention. Others just stood, watching, and listening to the two of them. A few even started filming their little game.

"Alright, my turn," Danny said. "Have you ever... oh, I have a good one! Have you ever had to fight your best friend after he copied your powers which then caused him to lose his mind and become evil?"

"Literally how?!" Ben shouted.

"Is that a no?"

"No, I meant 'literally how' as in how has something that specific happened to both of us?"

"No way!"

"Yes way! That's happened to Kevin more than once."

"What?!"

"I know, right?"

"It is also strange for this game to go so long without any of the participants losing a point," Rook said. "I believe it is at this point that I would have lost, had I been participating."

"You put up a good fight, Rook," Ben joked.

"But... I was not playing?"

"I was teasing, Rook."

"Ah, yes."

"Whose turn is it now?" Ben asked. "Mine, right?"

"Yeah," Danny confirmed.

"Have you ever had a limb severed?"

"Yes, but I'm a ghost, so I reattached it pretty easily. Have you ever altered the fabric of reality?"

"I once had to recreate the entire universe after it got destroyed, and then went on intergalactic trial for doing it. And the worst part is, ever since then, grape smoothies just don't taste the same. It's so frustrating. I did get this super comfortable hoodie out of it, though." 

"Ew, smoothies?" Danny grimaced. "What are you a yoga mom?"

Ben stood up, slamming a hand on his table and with the other, he pointed accusingly at Danny. "Smoothies are delicious, screw you!"

"You're just frustrated because I'm winning."

"You're not winning, neither of us have lost a single point! But you will!" Ben declared. "Have you ever saved the whole entire universe."

"Yes."

"What?" Ben fell back into his chair, deflated.

"A while back, this one group, the G.I.W. tried to destroy the Ghost Zone with a special anti-ghost nuke, and I stopped them. The Ghost Zone is the flip side of our dimension, so if it had been destroyed, it would have taken our universe along with it. Hence, I saved the universe. I just didn't let it get all over international news first."

"Boo!"

"Isn't that my line?" Danny said. 

Ben threw a sharpie at him and he turned intangible and let it pass right through him while he laughed at his own joke.

"Anyway, have you ever visited an alternate timeline where the entire earth is barren and desolate and the alternate version of you rules supreme?"

"Yes, I call it the Mad Universe, because it looked like Mad Max, you know?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I can see it. But really? You have?"

"Yup. The alternate version of Rook was a jerk." 

Rook frowned but didn't have the chance to say anything before Ben kept talking.

"Have you ever... I don't know... every time I go weirder, you just match me. Have you ever had a family member be friends with one of you enemies?"

"Yeah, my dad considers my archenemy his best friend in the world," Danny said. "The feeling is not mutual, though. Have you ever been imprisoned by one of your enemies?"

"More times than I can count. Have you ever asexually reproduced?"

"Do clones count?"

"No!" Ben refused.

"Yes," Rook argued, possibly still upset about Ben's jerk comment. "Technically, cloning is a form of asexual reproduction."

"But could they fly?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to asexual reproduction, but yes," Danny said. "They were ghosts. They could fly. Most of them were too unstable to survive though. There's only one left." He frowned.

"Oh... sorry."

"It's... fine." It wasn't fine. He still found himself lying awake at night thinking about them sometimes. Danny shook his head and plastered on a determined grin. "I really think I've got you this time, though."

"Do you?" Ben did not sound convinced.

"Have you ever had to fight sentient food that was not still alive?"

"Y—wait...." Ben frowned as he thought about it for a long moment. "No... I haven't."

"Yes!" Danny cheered and Ben buried his head in his hands, humiliated. "This puts me in the lead."

"Not for long," Ben said. "Have you ever eaten food from another planet?"

"Wha—noooo...." 

"Ha!"

"We're dead even again." 

Their game continued.

"Have you ever fought a cult's subject of worship?"

"Have you ever had a Christmas-themed battle?"

"Have you ever fought on the same side as one of your enemies?"

"Have you ever been called upon to end a war?"

"Have you ever unexpectedly developed a new power that caused you trouble?"

"Have you ever used your powers to get out of other responsibilities?"

"Have you ever had to skip out on something you were really looking forward to and save the day?"

"Have you ever been blamed for property damage your enemies caused just because you happened to be there at the time?"

"Have you ever been mind controlled?"

"Have you ever fought an evil circus?"

The game kept going on and on, while they absently shook hands and signed autographs, with neither of them giving up another point. Until Sally showed up to tell them it was time to go to the teen hero panel they were on. 

It was only then that they looked up and saw all the cameras that had been recording their game. How long had they been recording? How much had they gotten?

"Uh... right," Ben said. "Sorry everyone. You can come back for autographs after the panel. And Danny, I think we're gonna have to call it a draw."

"We'll have to have a rematch some other time," Danny said, trying to keep his tone light, despite his sudden anxiety. 

Sally led the two of them to a large room with rows upon rows of empty seats, right down the aisle to the stage up front where a man in his thirties was already standing, and a masked teenage girl with glowing pink hair and eyes was sitting behind the table.

"Hello, I'm John and I'll be moderating this panel," the man introduced. "This is Lucky Girl, another teen hero we invited. Lucky Girl, this is Ben 10 and Danny Phantom."

"Nice to meet you," Danny said.

"I can't believe they roped you into this," Ben said, smiling at the girl like he knew her.

"Shut up," the girl barked back. "We can't all gain international fame overnight, and I have to pay for student housing."

"You two already know each other?" John asked, surprised.

"Oh yeah, we've known each other for a long time," Ben said. "All our lives, in fact."

"Ben, I swear if you give me away I will hex you so bad your children's children's children will travel for miles just to spit on your grave."

Ben put up his hands in surrender, and took his seat without another word. Danny followed his lead. This Lucky Girl didn't seem like the kind of person he wanted to mess with.

Once they were all in their seats, John gave them a quick run down of how the panel would go. He would ask a few questions. They would answer. He would open it up to questions from the audience, and they would answer those too. After an hour, the panel would be over, and they would return to their booths, or in Lucky Girl's case, simply leave, as she apparently didn't have a booth.

"She uses her powers to disguise herself, but she can't keep that up for more than an hour and a half," Ben whispered to Danny, clearly sensing his confusion. "She'll probably hang around for a little while after to greet fans, but she'll have to leave when her mana's drained."

"Oh, okay, that makes sense," Danny whispered back, nodding. "I was worried it might be like a sexism thing."

"As if she'd stand for something like that," Ben scoffed.

Soon enough, the doors opened, and people started trickling in. The seats filled up with mostly teens and young adults, with a few parents and older adults sprinkled in. Danny noticed Sam and Tucker come in and sit in the back row and waved at them. Rook was also sitting in the back row, trying not to draw attention to himself. Although, it seemed like most people thought he was a cosplayer, so he didn't really have to bother hiding.

When the doors closed, John started the panel.

The first part was easy. 

John asked questions like: "How do you balance being a hero with the other responsibilities you have as an adolescent?"

"Honestly, not well. You know how people say 'you can sleep when you're dead'? Yeah, that's a lie." 

"I'm lucky enough to have a good memory so I don't have to study much, otherwise my grades in school would tank. For me, the real struggle is finding time to do chores." 

"I prioritize my other responsibilities. I don't usually face world-ending, city-destroying threats like these two, which allows me the luxury of saving hero work for after my homework is finished."

And: "Where do you go when you want to de-stress after saving the day?"

"I usually go over to my friends' and play video games. I feel safe around them."

"If the sun's still up, Mr. Smoothie. But if it's late, I like to go out for chili fries."

"The library. I know it makes me sound like a nerd, but whatever. I am a nerd. Who cares."

And: "How do your parents figure in to you heroic activities?"

"They... don't know. They don't exactly have a great opinion of ghosts, and they don't recognize me when... I mean, they don't recognize me anymore. So I guess they don't figure in." That wasn't entirely true, but Danny wasn't about to say they shot at him in front of a crowd of hundreds of people.

"My parents are actually very supportive. At first, they wanted me to quit, because they were worried about my safety, but I changed their minds. They raised me to know right from wrong, and to help others whenever I can, and they're proud of me."

"My parents don't know either, and I don't live with them right now because I live on my school campus, so I guess, like Phantom, my parents don't really figure in either."

They were easy questions to answer, even if Danny didn't always tell the whole truth. John kept things light, focusing mostly on them being teenagers, and how being a hero affected that aspect of their life, rather than the other way around. There were a couple questions about battles and enemies, but for the most part, they avoided the heavy stuff.

Then, about halfway into the panel, John opened it up to the audience to ask questions.

They didn't shy away from the heavy stuff.

"Hi, I'm Mandy, big fan," said a girl with curly brown hair. "I have two questions for Ben, first is, are you dating anyone?"

Ben chuckled, trying to sound amused, even though, up close, Danny could tell the question made him uncomfortable.

"No, I'm not dating right now."

The girl giggled for a moment before asking her next question. "My next question is: when you're fighting an alien invasion basically by yourself, do you ever feel afraid?"

Ben didn't answer right away. He took a breath, and nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I know I'm strong, and there's a lot that I can do and have done, but when I'm outnumbered a thousand to one, yeah, I'm a little afraid."

"Not that you were ever actually by yourself," Lucky Girl pointed out.

"Heh," Ben rubbed his neck awkwardly. "That's true. Even if there weren't many, I've always had people in my corner."

The next person who stepped up was a guy in a Danny Phantom T-shirt which read 'it's not gay if he's dead.'

Danny immediately groaned and Ben grinned hugely. "Before you ask your question, I have a question for you. Where did you get that shirt?"

"I got it at a souvenir shop when I went to Amity Park, but I think you can buy them online, too," they guy said.

"I'm getting one."

Danny groaned even more insistently.

"My question is for Phantom. If you hadn't died, do you think you still would have become a hero, and protected your home from ghosts?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Danny admitted. "Amity Park does have other ghost hunters, the Fentons and Red Huntress, for example. If I hadn't d... if I didn't have my powers, I wouldn't really have the ability to protect anybody. I'd probably leave it to the ghost hunters who were better equipped."

"And for Lucky Girl, are you single?"

"Ha ha no," she said flatly. "I have a boyfriend."

"Figures."

Next up was a girl in some pretty fantastic Lucky Girl cosplay. Her wig even lit up. Although she looked like she was quite a bit taller than the real thing.

"Lucky Girl, do your periods ever interfere with fighting crime?"

"Uh... that's a bit personal," Lucky Girl said instantly, as if the answer was instinctive. 

But when she saw the way the girl reacted like she'd been slapped, hunching in on herself with shame, Lucky Girl bit her lip and answered anyway. 

"Actually... the life of a superhero is really stressful. The kind of stress that has... biological effects. When I first started fighting crime as, like, a regular thing, I didn't have a period for months. When I finally did again it was... you know what, I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say, it was really bad. Like, my doctor prescribed me pills to stop me from menstruating bad. So... I guess the answer to your question is 'not anymore' and also sorry for the TMI." She finished with a short grimace.

"Thank you for answering," the girl said before going to sit back down.

Ben covered his mic and turned to her. "How come I never knew about that?"

"Are you kidding?" Lucky Girl muttered back. "Like I'm gonna discuss my cycle with a fifteen-year-old boy."

Ben didn't even attempt to argue with that.

As... much as those questions were, it was the next one that really stopped everything in its tracks.

"Hi, I'm Michael. I don't know if you know about this video that's going around. It was only posted, like, less than an hour ago, but it's really blown up in fan circles already," the young man said. "The video shows Phantom and Ben 10... I guess playing a game or something? Where you guys are asking each other if you'd done certain things and basically comparing experiences with each other? Do you know it?"

Ben and Danny shot each other anxious looks.

"Uh... I haven't seen it, but I think we know what you're talking about," Ben answered cautiously. "Is that your question?"

"No, my question is... well, in the video you guys are talking about alternate timelines, and fighting evil versions of yourselves, and getting mind-controlled, and changing reality. I guess my question is. Did all that stuff really happen to you guys?"

Neither Ben nor Danny wanted to answer. They didn't look at each other, or the crowd. They deeply regretted playing a game that revealed such personal secrets in a public space.

Finally, Ben cleared his throat. "Yes, all that happened." Danny nodded his own confirmation. "The life we lead is a dangerous one, and it demands sacrifices, and it takes a lot from you, and it puts you in a lot of strange situations that few others can understand. It's... not for everyone."

The next fan stepped up to the mic. "Follow up questions. First, how are you guys like... functional? Because I mean, if I'd gone through the kind of stuff you were talking about in that video, I think I'd have a mental breakdown. Second, why would you put yourselves through all that?"

"Well, first off, bold of you to assume I've never had a mental breakdown," Danny said. "And secondly, if we don't do it, who will?" he asked. "We're not just random ordinary high schoolers who up and decided to subject ourselves to unspeakable trauma just for the fun of it. 

"We do this because we have the power to do things others can't, to fight enemies other people can't fight. We do this because if we don't... if we don't, people die. Or worse. People experience the kind of things we do trying to protect them. So I guess the answer to both of your questions is, what other choice do we have?"

"Yeah, exactly what Danny said," Ben agreed. "I tried to give up my powers, and my responsibilities once, and people got hurt because of it. My grandpa.... Because I wanted to live a normal life, to take it easy, there was no one else to protect them. It is every individual's responsibility to do what they can to help others. It just so happens that we can do more than most, and that comes with drawbacks. 

"Lucky Girl, care to weigh in? You weren't in the video, but I know you've had your share of superhero related trauma."

"I think you guys pretty much covered it," she replied. "I don't think I've been through quite as much as you two, but I definitely know about the sacrifices we make for this life. I also know that it's worth it to know that the people and places you love are safe and protected because of you."

The boy's both nodded in agreement.

The questions didn't really lighten up after that. "What's the worst experience you've ever had as a hero?" "Have you ever failed to protect someone?" "We heard Ben 10 say so already, but have you ever wanted to quit, or wished you never had powers in the first place?"

After a point, John noticed how uncomfortable they were getting and had to step in and ask that the next few questions not be so dark.

A younger girl, maybe even a middle schooler, hand mercy on them at last, and asked, "What was the funniest thing that ever happened to you while you were saving the day?" and from there the questions finally eased up.

It felt like it had been far longer than an hour when the session ended, and they left the stage and returned to their booths to sign autographs and shake hands and listen to dozens of people gushing, "I'm you're biggest fan!"

They didn't pick up their game again, even when things got slow. Evidently they'd learned their lesson. And they kept learning it as more and more of the people who came to visit them asked about that video. Each time Danny had to smile and laugh it off, the regret deepened. 

It had been a while since he felt like such a complete idiot. Since he'd done something so thoughtless. He'd gotten a lot better at keeping secrets over the years, but he'd just been so excited to talk with someone he had so much in common with—and yeah, he'd probably gotten a little too competitive also. He should have known better.

"So uh... I was at your panel earlier," said a girl who placed a science magazine on the table for him to sign. The cover touted an article about 10 Things You Didn't Know About Ghosts (they have their own culture!). Danny remembered doing that interview.

"That's nice, thanks for coming," Danny said, his smile tensing. "Do you want me to sign the cover, or the page with the article."

"The cover please," the girl said. "For Marnie. And um... I was too nervous to stand up and ask before, but... I was really curious."

"Oh?" Danny asked, keeping his eyes on his hand as he signed the cover 'To Marnie, stay spooky'.

"Why would you make it a game?" she asked. "Wouldn't it be better to try to forget all those things?"

"Easier said than done," Danny said. "Things like that stay with you. Turning them into a joke or a game takes the power away from those bad memories. When you're laughing at your fears, what can they do to you? That's the way I see it. Ben might have another reason, and technically, it was his game. He came up with it."

"So... what you're saying is, laughter is the best medicine?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Danny agreed. He slid the magazine back to her. "Thanks for coming by."

Finally, Danny's shift was over, and Ben's ended at the same time. Just in time, too, because Danny was just about out of photos. He'd have to get more for tomorrow. He signed his last picture with a sigh of relief, thankful that the convention staff had come by to cut off the line when it was about time for him to be finished.

"You finished too, Danny?" Ben asked.

"Yup."

"You wanna go get lunch with us? Wait... do ghosts eat?"

"We do, but I was gonna meet up with my friends for lunch today, and then explore the convention a little." Danny said. "Are you gonna be here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm here for the whole con," Ben said. "Here, let me give you my number. We should keep in touch."

"Totally!" Danny agreed. "It'll be nice to have an actual superhero friend. I love Sam and Tucker, but there are some things...."

"Yeah, I get what you mean."

After swapping numbers the two of them headed off to their separate engagements. Danny transformed and got to experience what else Hero Con had to offer without getting swarmed by fans like he saw happening to Ben that afternoon.

They met up again the next day. Chatted at their booths, had lunch together, checked out the fan artists, just hung out for a while. This time around, Danny didn't have his human form to protect him from the crowds. 

That video of their game haunted them both for the rest of the convention. People kept bringing it up until it became almost more annoying than mortifying. 

When Hero Con finally ended, they both breathed sighs of relief. The convention was over, but Ben and Danny kept in touch. They never did have that rematch though. In fact, they were both pretty much done with 'Have-You-Ever'.

[fandonnavyce]

Jason in Wonderland - Part 3

Who Are You?

Part 1, Part 2, AO3

“Not all who wander are lost.” Gotham smiled. It was cruel. It was uncaring. It was welcoming.

“A̵̍̑͜r̶̞̳͋e ̸͍͜͝ÿ̶̢̥́o̸u No̸̖̯̽t̴͘ Họ̸̅̅m̸̿ẻ̸̩͘?̷̅ M̴̢͙̜͇͓̂̑̉͝͝¥̶̖͙͖͇̳̃̿͑́͠ Sð̶͓͚̟̟͚͗̅̃̋̒ñ̸(Mine, mine, MINE)(My-Twice-Born)(My Red Knight)(My Beloved Bloody Butcherbird).”

“Your Son?” Jason tasted the name, the title, on the tip of his tongue.

Gotham smiled. Gleaming white teeth, straight and perfect, sparkled. ‘Dangerous’, Jason's instincts murmured.

“My Dear Robin,” she called.

Jason blanched.

“I am Not Robin.”

Gotham smirked.

“I am Not Robin,” Jason protested vehemently. Gotham gave an arched brow.

“My Son, My Robin, My Knight. Blood Red Shrike, Redbreast Bright. My Son, My Robin, My Knight.”

Gotham sang.

“O’ Robin. Wast Robin not borne from mine own very flesh? Didst thee not nurse on mine own blood and tears, teethed on mine own bones. Sleepeth and swaddled under mine own night skies blanket? Hath I not raised Robin on mine own streets?

O’ Robin. Didst Robin’s first steps not tread in milk-teeth sneakers upon mine own broken back? First words not chirped to mine own visage, in mine own ears With a chick’s cheeping?

O’ Robin.

With downy feathers of red, green, and gold didst Robin’s first flight not beginneth                      with a leap into mine own arms?

And after thee wast Lost to me on distant shores Forsaken Son, didst thee not Returneth to me? Thou art Walk Against Death as my Red Knight When you crawled out from Death’s Hold and Birthed yourself from my soil bed Wast thee not then Born Again? O’ My Darling Robin

O’ Son of Gotham Son of Catherine, Son of Sheila, Son of Willis, Son of Bruce, Scion of Alfred, Scion of Wayne. Jason Peter Todd, Gotham runs in thy veins. It’s in thy blood. I’m in the marrow of thy bones. Tis in thy DNA

If You, who left and returned to my bosom, If You, with me in your lungs, vanquishes those that prey on the humblest, are not My Robin then… Who Are You?

If ye, Who didst turn a Circus Child’s erstwhile boots and infant wings Into a Gotham Legacy, art not Robin mine then…

Ẃ̸̰h̵̞͎̓̔o̷̪͌̀ Aṛ̴̽t̷̛̖͉̾ T̴̩͍̿ḫ̴̇o̷̙̼̔ù̸̜̊?”

Jason’s mind blanked. Suddenly Red Hood, a name Jason had ripped off that blight on Gotham. That he wore second-hand. That he executed, ruled, and governed with, suddenly seemed ill-fitting, (too small) and unsuited (wretched) relative to everything else he had been. Bright, Wonderful, Magic. (I’m Robin and being Robin gives me Magic)

“I, I, I hardly know” Jason replied. “But I know I'm much changed from then, since when I was Robin.”

“What do you mean by that? Explain yourself Ṙ̵̳͊ob̵͛͝ḯ̵̙͕̍n.”

Jason shook his head. “I can't explain Myself beyond that I'm hardly Robin anymore. I don't even know how I, myself, came back from Death, you see.”

“I don't see,” said Gotham.

To Gotham, Robin was Robin was Robin was Robin was Robin.

“I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly.” Jason answered politely, “I don't understand Myself. Only that being so different is maddening.”

“It is not,” said Gotham. A Spirit born from the minds of thousands across generations; Gotham was Gotham was Gotham, no matter the skin or time the City wears.

“Surely, being like one kind of person then being like a totally different kind, whilst still being treated like they're the same. Is that not strange?”

“No.”

Jason scowled, frustrated at his failure to get his point across, and at Gotham’s refusal to see his way.

“Robin died!” Jason ground out, “Robin died with broken wings, a busted skull, choking on smoke, and with fire eating away at my flesh.” Jason gasped for air, “Robin died! And when I came back, I wasn’t Robin, I WAS MAD!!!”

Doubling over, Jason keened. His throat choked. His skin itched. His chest burned. Frustrated, desperate fingers clutched and dug for absent relief. His head SCREAMED!

Then he felt a gentle kiss upon his brow. A Mother’s Benediction. Jason gasped. Frantically, he rubbed away the welling tears of relief at the sudden calm.

“What was that?!” Jason demanded in quiet, seething, wide-eyed disbelief.

“You seemed to have developed a hypersensitive autoimmune response. Recollections of your demise seemed to have triggered an anaphylactic shock on an ectobiological scale. Your hybrid ectobiology are causing seizures that are, despite overt superficial similarities, of a state atypical of a Ghost’s Death Day because of- ”

“Speak plain english!” cried the Butcherbird to his Lady Gotham. “I don’t know the meaning of half those long words, and, what’s more, I don’t believe you do either!” Jason breathed heavily in the silence. Gotham’s eyes are hooded, as garnet hair flutters and writhes upon her bare shoulders.

“You had an allergic reaction. At the very core of you.” Then with a wave of her black gloved hand, the scene blurs.

...

Jason stands on a rooftop with a gargoyle for company and two others:

Gotham’s Dark Knight and Robin Boy Wonder.

The Dark Knight is an amorphous spiked shadow-blob from the neck down and a facsimile of a horned shadowy head with a pair of white beaming eyes from the neck up.

Boy Wonder meanwhile is a five foot nothing dark haired kid dressed in a colourful top, a bright yellow cape, and green booty shorts with matching pixie boots. His indistinct youthful features behind the domino mask place him anywhere between the ages of 8 and twice that.

“Holy macaroni, you’re in rough shape!”

“Hmm”

Jason blue-screens.

“Did we break his brain?”

“Hnn”

“Should we-”

“Who are you?” Jason interrupted. Jason already knew. But he just wanted them to say it.

Whispers rasped from the rustling wind.

  “I am Vengeance . I am The Night .”

  The Dark Knight’s shroud flared to impossible, intimidating heights.

 “ I’m Batman.” 

Jason felt his skin break out into goosebumps as he stared up into the night sky dominated by Gotham’s Dark Knight.

“AND I'M ROBIN!”

Like a bright firework bang, Robin shone high in the sky.

Fwip, fwip, fwip, fwip.

An iconic dazzling quadruple flip splashed against the sky. Robin gracefully danced with gravity to finish with a beautiful descent. The moves were Dick Grayson.

But that was a rough Gotham brogue - kenned from the mouths of street alley rats.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Why Are Seers Always Cursed? (1)

Wesley Weston is a son of Apollo with the rare gift of prophecy.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week 2024, Day three: Percy Jackson | Lake

Takes place shortly before Luke, Annabeth, and Thalia's arrival at Camp Half-Blood and while Wes is in middle school, so before the primary canon events of both series.

You can also read it on AO3

Chapter 1: Family Troubles

Next Chapter

[Warnings for implied/referenced infidelity]

Wes couldn't remember a time when his parents didn't have marital troubles. His eldest brother, Easton, claimed that their parents had been completely happy together once. Even though their mom's work as a flight attendant meant she wasn't home much, they were still happy and in love. Dad was holding down a job back then, and Easton had just started school. Kyle couldn't actually remember it, but he claimed to, nevertheless.

Then Mom came home pregnant with Wes, and everything changed.

They tried to salvage their relationship, keep the family together, but in the end, rather than staying together despite Mom's job, they only managed to stay together because she was away so often.

To his credit, Dad never took it out on Wes.

It wasn't until Wes was eight that he even knew Walter Weston wasn't his biological father. Kyle had let it slip when he was mad at Wes for winning eight games in a row of Guess Who.

He'd gotten angry and shouted, "I don't have to take this! You're not even my real brother!"

After the initial mess was sorted out, Walter took Wes aside and explained that he was his brother's half-sibling, that they had the same mother, but that Wes had a different father. He'd made sure to emphasize that he was still Wes' father, too, and that it didn't mean he loved Wes any less. And Wes had just nodded.

Everyone seemed surprised by how well he'd taken it, but subconsciously, Wes felt like he had always known.

Things settled down after a while. As Wes got older, as he learned more, he finally started to understand the real reason for the tension between his parents whenever his mother came home. Dad had forgiven her for cheating, but she'd still broken his trust, and no matter what happened, he couldn't help but wonder if she'd been unfaithful again while she was away.

Sometimes, Dad would get drunk, at a New Year's party or something, and he would get all sad and cry about losing the love of his life. Wes would help him to bed, and he would cry about how good a kid Wes was, and how he wished Wes really was his kid and it wasn't fair. And he would cry about Easton being so good in school and about Kyle having so many friends. 

It was embarrassing, but there were worse things for a drunk guy to be than sad and sentimental. At least he didn't get that drunk very often.

It wasn't until Wes was ten that he finally worked up the courage to ask his mom about his real—his biological father.

As long as he could remember, when his mother came home, she would sleep in the guest room. So one night after she finished her nighttime routine, he went in to ask her in private. Her face was covered in a pale green mask, and her hair was tucked up in a ring of curlers around her neck to preserve the shape.

"Wes," she noted when he came in, closing the door silently behind him like he thought he would get in trouble. "Hey, hon, what brings you here?" she asked. "You can't have had a bad dream already, you haven't even gone to bed yet."

"No, I... I wanted to ask you something," Wes told her. "I didn't want to do it earlier because I thought it might upset Dad."

"I see," she said.

Wes could tell already that she knew what he was going to ask, but she was waiting for him to say it.

"What... I mean... who.... Who's my real dad?" Wes finally got out. "Will you tell me about him?"

"I knew you were gonna ask someday," she said, a sad expression falling over her face.

"Will you tell me about him?" Wes implored. "Please?"

She sat on her bed and Wes sat down next to her.

"He told me his name was Apollo," she said. "But he was a musician, so that might've been a stage name. I never did get a last name from him. When we met, he said he saw me crossing the sky, following the path of the sun, that he'd seen it almost every day, and that I'd caught his eye.

"I still don't quite know what he meant by that. At the time, I thought he was clumsily trying to compare me to an angel, but I'm not so sure now. What I do know is from that moment on, I felt like I was under a spell, completely charmed by him. 

"We met a few times. I didn't mean for them to be dates, but he clearly thought they were. He would sing for me, and write me poetry, which would sometimes be good and sometimes not so much. His haiku was especially bad. Then one night... well, one thing led to another, and you were born. I never saw him again after that, so clearly he was only after one thing and once he got it he was done with me."

"Sounds like a jerk," Wes said with a scowl.

"I didn't think so then, but hindsight is 20/20," Mom replied with a nod. "In any case, my little foray with him wasn't worth the damage it did to my marriage. I regret everything about those meetings with Apollo." 

She looked down at Wes, all tense and nervous in his Transformers pajamas, and wrapped an arm around him to squeeze him into her side. "Everything but you. You were the only good thing to come out of it."

"Is it okay if Dad can be my dad instead of that guy?" Wes asked. "I don't want him to be my dad."

"It's more than okay," she said.

From then on, Wes' biological dad never got brought up. When Kyle got mad at him, he would sometimes, petulantly, refer to Wes as his half-brother, but never aside from that. Slowly, their parents finally started to truly patch up their relationship.

Then, one day, a few weeks before Wes' thirteenth birthday, he had a dream.

He dreamed that he was laying on his back in a field, soaking up the sunlight, and then the sun came closer and closer, and slowly, the sun turned into a man with golden blond hair, and tan skin, and a guitar on his back, and he knelt down next to Wes and kissed him on the forehead.

"Tell your mom I'll see her soon," he said.

Wes always woke up with the sunrise, but that morning, he awoke in a cold sweat. He waited until he could find a chance to call his mom without anyone overhearing and hoped to God that she wasn't in the air. He was pretty sure her flight had landed by the time he called.

"Hi, Wes, what's up?" she asked when she picked up. She sounded confused.

He couldn't blame her; he was confused too. "I just wanted to tell you..." he trailed off. 

Now that he was finally doing it, it seemed supremely silly to tell her that she was going to meet his bio-dad again soon. What would he even say? It came to him in a dream? That answer was funny in response to a math teacher asking how you reached a certain result, but it wasn't the kind of explanation anyone took seriously. Still, Wes felt like he had to tell her.

"I uh... I just have this really strong feeling that you may end up meeting my bio-dad soon," Wes bit out. "I don't know why, I just... felt like I should tell you."

"Honey, I haven't seen him in thirteen years," his mother reassured. "I don't think either of us has to worry about me running into him again after all this time."

"But—"

"I'll tell you what," she said. "I'll make sure to keep an eye out for him just in case, and I promise if I see him, I'll turn the other way. Okay?"

"No, you need to talk to him!"

There was a stunned silence on the line. Wes didn't even know why he said that.

"Why?"

"I... I don't... he has something important to tell you." Why was Wes still talking? Where was this coming from? Why couldn't he just shut up?

"What are you saying?" his mother asked. "Have you heard from him? Did he contact you somehow?"

"No it's just... I can't explain it, okay just... please mom."

After another long pause, she finally said, "Alright... if you say so, hon. I trust you."

The next time his mom came home, the day before Wes turned thirteen, she walked in the front door with a tight smile. She spoke only in short sentences. It seemed like her mind was far away, occupied with something else.

That night, Wes and Kyle heard yelling from their parents' room for the first time in a long time. Mostly their father. Walter Weston rarely lost his temper, so for him to be yelling like this, it had to be about something serious.

"Don't tell me she did it again?" Kyle said with a sneer.

Wes didn't dignify that with a response. He pressed his ear to his own bedroom door and tried to make out what they were saying. The words were muffled, and he didn't catch most of it, but he did hear a few things.

"... my kid, not his!" in his father's voice. And, "He doesn't get a say!"

Then his mother, whose voice hadn't been loud enough to hear up to this point shouted back, "But what if Wes is in danger!?"

Wes' breath hitched. Was something going to happen to him? Had his mom actually met his bio-father? Had he threatened Wes in some way? 

Wes strained his hearing to listen, but the voices had gone silent. When they picked up again, it was at a much lower volume, and he couldn't make out a single word of what they were saying. That night, he laid awake worrying, unable to sleep. When dawn broke, he gave up on trying and got out of bed.

He wished basketball season wasn't over. That would give him an excuse to leave the house and go to school for early morning practice. He scored the most three-pointers of anyone on the team, and getting praise from his coach and teammates was always a morale booster. He could really use something like that about now, rather than just stewing in his anxiety while he got dressed.

When he left his room, his mom and dad were already awake, sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Wes, honey, we need to talk to you," his mother said gently.

Wes' first thought was, 'You're getting divorced and it's my fault,' but he knew instinctively that that wasn't the case. He also somehow knew that the real reason they wanted to talk would be arguably worse.

"Why don't you have a seat, son," his father said.

He called me son, Wes thought as he cautiously sat down across from them, whatever this is must be really serious.

"I don't know how you knew," his mother began, "But as it happens, I did run into your biological father again, the day after you called me, in fact. And he did have something important to tell me. It was a warning."

"What kind of warning?" Wes asked. "Did he threaten you or something? Did he threaten me?"

"No, no... well, not quite," she said.

"He told her you were in some sort of danger," his father cut in. "I don't know if he has enemies or something and he's worried about them finding you, or what, but he said that he was sending someone to come get you and take you to some kind of, I don't know, protective custody or something?"

"He said it was a private summer camp in Long Island," his mother clarified. "Somewhere where you'd be safe and protected. He seemed very serious about this, it was unlike him. I did some research already, and it's definitely legitimate. I arranged a flight to New York for you and whoever he sends already. They should come for you as soon as the school year is over."

"That's it?" Wes asked. "Nothing about what kind of danger I'm actually in, or why? Man, if I thought this guy was a jerk before, I know he is now."

"Are you saying you won't go?" his father asked. His voice was hopeful, but his expression was conflicted. He didn't want his son to leave, but he didn't want him to get hurt either. "There's no real evidence you're in any danger aside from this random man's word."

"I don't want to take that risk," his mother said pointedly.

"I'll go," Wes said. "It's just for the summer, right? Then I can come home again?"

"That's right," his mom said.

"Then I'll go."

School ended three weeks later, and a lanky man came to pick Wes up at the end of the day. He wore baggy slacks, a dark striped button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and an unbuttoned gray vest. A flat cap covered his curly brown hair. He looked like he belonged on a street corner selling newspapers. He stuck out like a sore thumb in front of a school. 

His eyes zoned in on Wes the second he stepped out of the school building.

"Wesley Weston, right?" the man said once Wes was close enough to hear him. "Name's Melvin Barkley, your father sent me to get you."

"Don't call him that," Wes grumbled. "I didn't realize you were gonna come get me right when school ended. We gotta stop by home and pick up my bag."

"Can do," Melvin said amiably. "Lead the way."

Wes wasn't sure if he'd been sent as a sort of guide, or as a body guard, but he was particularly laid back for someone in either profession. When he walked, he walked with a strange gait, and his eyes darted around every few seconds before fixing solidly back on Wes.

School ended early on the last day. When Wes got back home to pick up his bag, the place was empty and all the lights were off. He didn't turn them on. It felt like it would be wrong somehow. 

Kyle had gone to the skate park with his friends the second the final bell rang. Easton wouldn't be coming home from his first year of college until tomorrow. Mom was on a flight to Germany right now, and wouldn't land for another eight hours. And Dad was still at work.

Wes wasn't going to get the chance to say goodbye. Instead, he wrote a note and ended it with, See you all at the end of summer! Love, Wes

[fandonnavyce]

Danny Phantom Side Hoes Week 2024

March 7: Dani Phantom, self defense

Down by the Beach AO3 Link Danny Phantom x The Owl House

“That’s an amazing sandcastle.”

Collector whirled round, stunned to find that someone had managed to sneak up on him. It was a white haired girl who felt as human as much as she felt of death and power.

“Do you wanna play hide and go seek with me? I bet we’d have so much fun!” Collector blurted out starry eyed.

Fortunately, the white haired girl didn’t look fazed at all at the sudden fervent invitation.

“Yeah sure, you’re it!” she grinned widely. “Don’t forget to count to 100!” Then she zipped away, soaring into the air, her legs now a ghostly tail trailing behind her. The Collector blinked before giggling. He closed his eyes and started counting.

“98, 99, 100! Ready or not, here I come!” The Collector opened his eyes. Of course the beach was empty when Collector gave a quick scan of the immediate area. Then he levitated into the air to get that sweet bird’s eye view. He couldn’t find anything in the Electromagnetic Spectrum for miles around. He switched over to heat vision and then x-ray. But still nada.

“Oh, she is good!” the Collector praised as he soared through the sky on his flying starboard. 

“I FOUND YOU!”

“But now you gotta tag me”

…

“No fair, the ocean is so cold!”

“Oh you think this is cold? I’ll show you cold.”

…

“I call hacks!”

“What for?”

“Animating your sandcastle into a walking fortress is totally unfair.”

“I don’t want to hear that after you froze the ocean. With ME INSIDE IT!”

...

“Listen, you can hear the ocean's roar inside,” frog crouching down next to a tide pool, Dani cupped a beautiful exotic conch shell to her ear. Hovering cross-legged beside her, Collector mimed turning a hand crank; amplifying the echoing sound so that he could hear it too. 

“I’m gonna add this to my collection,” Dani declared whilst admiring the shell, it glimmered a fierce red and spooky silver.

“You have a Collection?” the Collector asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I‘ve got all kinds of cool rocks and souvenirs from all over the realms. Do you want to see it?”

“Yeah, totally, of course.”

“I mean it’s back at my place, but you can come over.”

“I can?” the Collector’s voice cracked.

“Obvsi,” Dani teased in a ‘duh’ voice, “we’re friends”

“AWESOME!” the Collector yelled giddily into the bright blue sky. This was the first time in his entire existence he had been invited over to a friend’s home. “Whatcha doin’?”

Dani was currently holding some kind of hand device. It looked really funny. It was slab with buttons and a screen.

“I’m calling for a portal pickup” Dani explained.

“With that?! But what is it?”

Dani blinked in surprise, “It’s a long distance communication device called a mobile phone.”

“What, like a crow phone?” Collector cocked his head in curiosity.

Dani squints, “Maybe?” she draws out, “what’s a crow phone?”

“It’s a long distance communication device but it’s shaped like crow”

Dani shrugs, “then probably”, she looks back at her phone. “Hmm a portal should appear any second now.”

Just as she said that, Collector felt his ears pop as reality suddenly burst, like a pin in a helium balloon. Suddenly, a green swirly portal formed in front of him.

“That’s actually really cool,” Collector admits.

“Yeah c’mon,” Dani led the way through the portal.

Collector eyes widened at the Palace of Death, Ice, and Celestial Beauty floating before him, imposing and haunting against a backdrop of abyssal Cosmic Space.

“You live here?! Are you a princess? Where’s your tiara?” Collector asked, rapid fire.

“I’m not wearing it, yes I am, yes I do.”

The Collector looked around, his head on a swivel. “This place is so cool!”

Dani looked over at the Collector’s star themed outfit, “Yeah I had feeling you might like it,” she smiled. She flew up to her bedroom’s window, up in her tower, with the Collector following behind her as they entered in.

Taking up one entire wall, were shelves of her collections and souvenirs from her travels across the realms and Dani gleefully showed it off.

BANG!

The door to Dani’s bedroom slammed open and Dan was standing there in all his asshole glory. Dan looked down with all his stupid height at the two little kids in the room who looked back up at him.

Dani glared up at her brother’s intrusion. W̴̡̛͍͚̳͊͌H̶̦͑A̸͎̩͇͂̓T̷̞̻͖̜͑̾̉͝?̶͚̩̍̆͊!̸̳̱̐̓ ̷̞͙̀ (leave-get-out-get-out) (anger- confusion-disdain) she silently scowled in ghost-speak.

BANG!

Gone, Dan slammed the door behind him. There was a moment of confusion and surprise. Then heard hollered throughout the Palace,

“DANI HAS A BOY IN HER BEDROOM!!!”

Dani’s face was aghast. The Collector’s was bewildered. They could hear the building thunder of a stampeding herd of wildebeests.

BANG!

“Oh look, Dani brought her first friend over,” cooed Jazz.

Danny firmly denied the sight in front of him. “No! No! You’re too young to be bringing boys over!”

“Oooh who gets to do the shovel talk?” Dan cackled.

“Sam” “Sam” “Me” Tucker, Jazz, and Sam said together.

“What about me?! I’m the Ghost King! I’m her Father!”

“Yeah,” Tucker acknowledges, “but Sam’s the scariest.”

“Excuse you, I’m right here,” Dan protested.

Sam rolled her eyes, “Yeah but you’re not gonna bother.”

“... nah you’re right,” Dan shrugged.

“No wait, hang on, I can too be scary. I can be very scary.”

“Danny, you have multiple times needed either Sam or I to correct your order when you receive the wrong one,” Jazz pointed out.

“OK!” Danny blustered. “This and that are two different things!”

“Sorry bro, just take the L. You’ve been outvoted.�� Tucker rested a commiserating hand on Danny’s morose shoulder.

“Anyway” Jazz cheered, “it’s very nice to meet you…”

“The Collector” the boy introduced himself feeling shy all of sudden.

“It’s very nice to meet you, the Collector. Nevermind the noise, you’ll always be welcome here.”

“I’m glad to be here,” Collector sheepishly replied.

“ALRIGHT,” Dani started yelling, “OUT, OUT”, she shouted as she pushed her family out of her bedroom. “I’m so sorry,” Dani apologised to the bemused-looking Collector, “my family is so embarrassing,”

“You better keep the door open!”

“DANNY!”

@lexosaurus