This is very inspired by @minnesota-fats post about Danny being Bruce Wayne's clone (which has been rotting in my brain for two days) but an au where danny isn't just Bruce Wayne's clone, but also not fully a ghost.
both ideas can be used separately honestly, the idea just came to me while thinking about the bruce wayne clone idea, and a lot of this idea is just "danny without his ghost powers. i might probably make a part two that delves into him being bruce wayne's clone.
Hear me out.
A Danny Fenton who has the ghost sense and the fangs and the pointed ears and the scary eyes and an increase ecto-essence, but does not have the ability to "go ghost". His accident occurred when he pressed the "on" button on the outside of the portal, and the button electrocuted him due to faulty wiring. He ends up miraculously surviving but not without some new additional abilities (and electricity-based trauma).
Since Danny no longer has a built-in alter ego with the invert wardrobe to match, he doesn't see the point to take ghosts back to the ghost zone. What the hell can he do anyways? All he has is a cosmetic add-in, a lower body-temperature with an impressive ability to hold his breath longer than a human realistically should, and a built-in ghost detector. Not very helpful if you ask him.
That is, up until he goes into the lab after his parents catch a relatively harmless ghost and sees them vivisecting it. He's horrified. He thought his parents were using hyperbole when he said they'd tear them apart molecule by molecule.
(Granted, he also believed that ghosts were unfeeling up until he saw this random ghost being absolutely terrified for its existence on the table.)
After an argument over his parents harming the ghost, Danny goes back up to his room and refuses to leave, not even for dinner. Later that night after his parents went to sleep, Danny steels his resolve and sneaks back down into the lab and releases the ghost back into the ghost zone.
This happens a handful of times, until, finally, frustrated, Danny tells the latest captured ghost to tell anyone inside that if they even think about coming through, he'll capture them and bring them back to the zone himself. It's for their own safety.
The ghost agrees, and goes back inside. Danny steals a "failed" thermos from his parents' stash of weapons. The next time that a ghost shows up, its the lunch lady from episode one. Danny manages to defeat her without being seen, but knows that if there's gonna be consistent daytime ghost attacks then he can't base his luck around fighting without witnesses.
So he fashions himself with a makeshift outfit. This really only consists of an old, nondescript hoodie and a plain black face mask. Its the best thing he can do at short notice, however. Later, for his nighttime ghost fighting, his outfit is only slightly better.
He considered using one of his parents' lab suits. But white sticks out at night and the material doesn't protect you from road burn. His outfit is pretty homemade, with knee and elbow pads under his clothes and multiple layers. A long sleeve shirt over a hoodie over a black denim vest he found on sale. He later on manages to make brass knuckles ghost-proof and manages to stitch them into his gloves. (he gets very good at sewing).
His favorite part of the entire outfit, is a Casey Jones-style full-face mask he found while thrifting. It allows him better breathability than the face mask he was using (calling Rule Of Cool law here), and he can use his scary eyes to make him look more intimidating. His gloves, his mask, and his thermos are the things he carries around with him constantly, and, later on, wears baggier clothing to hide the fact that he's wearing knee and elbow gear under his clothes.
Did I mention he has long hair? Danny has long hair (because GNC danny ftw, it goes past his shoulders) that he braids back. it's a bit sloppy but it keeps his hair out of his face well enough. He takes the fenton creep stick with him.
(He and Bruce have, ultimately, a more lean build than a bulky one. It helped Bruce with his Brucie Wayne persona big time when he had to look like a pretty skinny boy, he uses body language, optical illusion, and body armor to make himself look bulkier as batman)
He still goes by the name Phantom. He still has a bitter rivalry with his parents, who have no idea that its him. They think he's probably some other ghost with beef with the other ghosts (he still triggers their ghost sensors), and still want to capture him.
He doesn't talk around the living. He doesn't have any fancy voice changer and dropping his voice hurts and ultimately, he just uses ASL if he ever has to talk in front of people. The ghosts know his voice at night, but not during the day.
He hardly talks to the living. He avoids them like the plague actually. When he defeats a ghost and there's an audience, he barely sticks around to have a nice friendly chat. He tries to get away as soon as possible. He's paranoid over people finding out who he is. He doesn't have that ghost form to fall back on here.
Oh god this is getting so long, so i'll post another part soon.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8
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In Which Obi-Wan Meets Stitch Properly
Happy Friday! Today's been A Day, so to make myself feel better, I wrote a lil scene referenced in Chapter 11 of how to bring him home:
Stupid.
It wasn’t even during a battle. Not on the ground, where the noise is everywhere all the time and where he tucks himself back and away and pulls on ‘81 for a bit, because ‘81 knows not to flinch at loud noises and or tap his fingers and Stitch can keep being a good medic while ‘81 takes the brunt of the noise and the darkness and everything else.
It’s effective. ‘81 had gotten him out of Kamino. ‘81 keeps him and his brothers alive on the battlefield. But being ‘81 is exhausting. So he stops being ‘81 on the ship once he realizes he doesn’t have to be. Because no one tells him that he’s tapping too much or talking too fast or being too stupid, and he can walk up to Helix or Needle and ask for a hug and get one.
(‘81 doesn’t get hugs.)
So he’s not prepared at all when he wanders into the engineering bay just in time for the sharp snap of a backfiring engine to crack his brain open like an egg.
He backpedals instinctively, all thoughts of routine physicals dropped along with his composure on the engineering bay’s floor, and the whole world goes snapshot-blurry.
Boots skidding across the floor.
A door that won’t open.
His own breathing, too loud.
A door that won’t open.
His own heartbeat, too fast.
A door that won’t open.
Voices approaching–
And then, finally, a door that does.
He flings himself in– glimpses a bucket, a mop, cleaning supplies– yanks the door shut behind him, and tries to fold down onto the floor. If his head’s between his knees, then that’s a few more layers between him and everything that’s too loud. But the engine’s vibrations tear all the way through him and splinter him all apart into a hundred thousand million tiny pieces–
He tries to back into a corner but the vibrations are in the walls too and hit right behind his shoulder blades–
He skitters into the middle of the room but the noise sneaks in through his feet and crawls all the way up and empties him out until there’s no room for shame or embarrassment or anything of himself at all, so he stands in the middle of the room with his hands over his ears and his eyes squeezed shut and tries to pretend he doesn’t have feet because eventually things go quiet again, they do, it’s just a question of how long it takes and how much of him gets peeled away in the meantime–
A different kind of quiet settles over him.
Not the raw type of quiet that usually arrives after the noise has worn itself out.
This is a solid quiet. As if someone has built a wall between him and the noise and has told it very sternly to stay out.
The vibrating roar of the engines has dulled into an almost imperceptible hum. Like how it should be.
He can’t hear his hammering heartbeat anymore, and his breathing is comfortably muffled.
He pries his eyes open carefully, in case someone actually managed to put a blanket over his head.
No one has.
But there’s a blanket on the floor in front of him.
He bends down and picks it up.
It’s brown. Brown is a quiet color. And it feels nice on his hands.
He considers it for a moment, and then drapes it carefully over his head.
Oh. That’s much better.
In the dark and quiet, he has enough room to breathe properly.
And as he works on that, a slow, simmering shame begins to kindle uncomfortably behind his ribs.
That–
That wasn’t good.
The last time he’d let that happen had been on Kamino. An alarm had gone off in the barracks. A false alarm– the announcement came over the comms, calling off evacuation protocols– but the shrieking whine hadn’t shut up, and Stitch hadn’t been very big then so he’d opened his mouth to drown it out himself, and then Fractal had tackled him and dragged him under the bunk and pressed his face into his shirt so he could scream quietly and he’d squeezed him tight enough to force out all the noise that was trying to fill him up and–
He cuts the rest of that thought off, and breathes it out.
Then he breathes out the hiccups, and the ache behind his eyes, and the prickling numbness in his feet.
This time, when he peels the blanket off his head, the lights don’t hurt anymore.
He stares at the wall.
Then he shakes out the blanket, intending to fold it up, until he sees something that stops him short.
The blanket has a hood.
He stares.
Sleeves, too.
Then he remembers–
They don’t have brown blankets on the ship.
He looks down.
The thin line of light under the door is partially blocked.
Someone is sitting outside.
He looks again at the blanket-that-is-not-a-blanket.
At the blanket that is a cloak.
Clone troopers do not wear cloaks.
After a moment, he gives up on trying to fold it, and wraps it around his shoulders instead.
Helix says that General Kenobi can be trusted. Helix says to stay with General Kenobi because he brought troopers home safe. Helix says that General Kenobi stopped the decommissionings and that he wouldn’t ever send anyone back to Kamino, not even if they were–
Not even if there was something really wrong with them.
(Helix says that General Kenobi is kind.)
Stitch takes a deep breath.
“We are learning,” he tells himself sternly, “how to be more than afraid.”
He opens the door before he can think better of it.
General Kenobi looks up.
Stitch hesitates before settling down cross-legged onto the floor next to him.
“Hello, sir.”
“Hello, Stitch.”
His voice is very gentle. Not loud at all.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better, sir.”
Then, belatedly–
“How are you feeling?”
The General smiles, and Stitch relaxes. “Quite all right, Stitch. Thank you for asking.”
“You’re welcome,” he says quietly.
They sit in silence for a long moment until something occurs to him.
“Did you make it quiet?”
“I did.”
“Oh. How?”
“Nothing in your head, if that’s what you’re worried about,” General Kenobi says easily, and Stitch hastily remembers to worry about that and then remembers to be relieved that he doesn’t have to. “I have a friend who gets… overstimulated. Have you heard the term psychometry before?”
Stitch shakes his head.
“It is, in essence, the ability to read impressions by touch. Very useful, when used carefully, but occasionally he will glean something by accident, and sometimes those things are… overwhelming. We– myself and my friends– learned when we were much younger what would help. Creating a bubble of sorts would muffle other stimuli and give him time to reorient himself.”
He gives Stitch a sideways look, and says pointedly, “He’s quite the fierce fighter, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”
Stitch ducks his head, feeling a burning flush crawl up the back of his neck.
“The– the bubble,” he says haltingly. “Did you– when you make it– with the Force?”
The General lets it slide. “I did.”
Stitch makes a face, and General Kenobi laughs.
He can’t help it. The Force doesn’t make sense, especially not General Kenobi’s, and it bothers him. Helix too, he knows.
He doesn’t think it bothers Needle.
(But then again, he doesn’t think anything manages to bother Needle.)
The General shifts up onto his knees and closes his eyes, and the world–
Stitch doesn’t know how to describe it.
It settles back into place. Quietly. With no itching. And the noise makes sense again.
“Thank you,” he says, remembering, and really means it. “And– here–”
He pulls the cloak off his back and offers it up.
General Kenobi gives him a considering look.
“You could keep it, if you like,” he says. “I have more.”
“It’s not mine, sir.”
“What if I gave it to you?”
Stitch opens his mouth, and then pauses, scowling. Technically, it would be his, he knows, but not– not in the right way–
The weight vanishes from his hand.
“You don’t have to,” General Kenobi informs him gently, slipping his arms into the sleeves. “It was just an offer. But thank you for giving it back.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
“Would you like me to comm someone?”
“No thank you, sir.”
“All right,” the General accedes easily. “I’ll see you later, then?”
“Please don’t be bleeding,” Stitch ventures, and feels immensely pleased with himself when General Kenobi lets out a sudden bark of laughter.
“I’ll try my best.”
Stitch stays sitting against the wall for some time after General Kenobi leaves.
Thinking.
It’s only when voices approach from down the hallway that he levers himself to his feet and makes his way back to the medbay.
One week later, Needle comes in with their deliveries from the recent requisitions order and gleefully informs Stitch that there is something in it for him.
Stitch, bewildered, accepts the package.
After some unsubtle encouragement from Needle, he opens it carefully.
Headphones.
Good headphones.
And the tag–
The tag says his name.
They’re his.
(Properly.)
Later, Stitch concludes that General Kenobi sees the whole galaxy the way Helix sees him.
He thinks that’s a lot of people to love quite so much.
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