#multi-species danny

[goodstuffhappenedtoday]

Meet the Alabama woman who is turning her farm into an indigenous food forest

Danny McArthur, Gulf States Newsroom

Angie Comeaux walks around her farm in Florala, Alabama. She calls it Hvrvnrvcukwv Ueki-honecv, or Hummingbird Springs, Farm. 

It has its own water sources – like a spring that’s not too far from her house. She and a group of volunteers planted 2,000 trees that are all native species, as well as hundreds of plant species. It’s January, so at first glance, it just looks like overgrown grass and bushes. 

“A lot of folks might come out here and they’ll look around and be like 2,000 trees where? But it’s because it’s winter time and they’re still small,” Comeaux said.

What’s actually there is the early stages of an indigenous food forest. To understand what that is, think about corn, beans, and squash. They’re known in some circles as the Three Sisters because they grow together, like family. 

���So the corn is tall, and it gives a trellis for the beans to climb up. But the beans will put nitrogen into the soil and that will help both the corn and squash grow,” Comeaux said. 

The story of the Three Sisters is a smaller version of what happens in a food forest. The plants here grow stronger, together. 

“The squash leaves are very prickly and they’re big and cover a lot of the ground, so it’s giving moisture control to the soil,” Comeaux said. “It also gives pest control because bugs don’t like to walk on prickly little leaves.” 

From extreme heat, to periods of drought, climate change is impacting farmers in the South. In response some farmers, like Comeaux, are leaning on regenerative practices. For her, that means returning to indigenous practices that focus on preserving the land for future generations – rather than depleting it now. 

Comeaux’s journey to launching Hummingbird Springs Farm started in early 2020. She was originally born in New Orleans and raised in southeast Louisiana but she always had a goal of getting land and living off it once her children were out of the house. Then the COVID-19 pandemic hit, her son had to finish school online and she saw her chance to get started. 

Comeaux, who said she’s Mvskoke, Cherokee and Chahta, came to Alabama to farm her ancestral lands. She found land from a family of multi-generational farmers looking to sell. But, when she first arrived, it was completely clear cut and hadn’t been farmed in seven years. For nearly a century before that, it had been a peanut farm. Comeaux said that kind of monoculture farming tends to leave the soil depleted. 

“We definitely saw that as an opportunity to reclaim and reestablish a healthy ecosystem,” Comeaux said. 

To do that, she’s using traditional ecological knowledge, or knowledge that has been passed down by generations of indigenous people based on their direct experience with the environment.

More at the link

[ai-satin-chic]

Let's Get Going!

Firstly, many thanks to @burningpoisonroaster for running the 18th edition of the AI Creator Challenge. It's not easy to run, so I really appreciate @burningpoisonroaster for stepping up this time.

Special thanks also go to @dryndelicate and @danni-gurrl who helped get this challenge off the ground. It's gone from a little game with three creators to a fun competition where multiple talented artists participate. I'd also like to thank everyone who has entered previous themes - I'm always astonished at the quality of the artwork. As always, if you want to see previous entries, click here.

Anyway, on to my entry. As some of you may know, I generally only post single images or videos, so doing multiple images and stories like this definitely pushes me out of my comfort zone!

From the earliest days of my childhood, I've been captivated by the vast expanse of the cosmos and humanity's relentless pursuit to explore it. The grainy black-and-white footage of the Apollo 11 moon landing, though it occurred long before my time, never failed to fill me with awe. It represented not just a "giant leap for mankind," but a testament to human ingenuity, courage, and our innate desire to push beyond known frontiers.

As I grew older, my fascination with space travel only intensified. I marveled at the rapid advancements in technology that allowed us to venture further into the unknown. The Space Shuttle program, the International Space Station, and the myriad of robotic explorers sent to distant planets and moons each marked significant milestones in our cosmic journey. These achievements transformed space travel from the stuff of science fiction into tangible reality, bridging the gap between imagination and possibility.

Today, as we stand on the cusp of a new era in space exploration, the progress we've made is nothing short of astounding. Private companies are opening up access to space like never before, reusable rockets are becoming the norm, and ambitious plans for lunar bases and Mars missions are taking shape. The dreams that once seemed impossibly distant are now within our grasp. As I reflect on the trajectory of space travel, from those first tentative steps on lunar soil to our current bold strides towards becoming a multi-planetary species, I'm filled with an overwhelming sense of wonder and optimism for the journey we are all on. And what could be a grander journey than the exploration of space?

@dryndelicate @danni-gurrl @gigiprinceton @ai-satin-chic

@softsmooth69 @alyssa-ai @fluffyfaza @synth-ai

@mohairmaster @mistressmaurahypno @hollyjumper

@andysfantasie @milunessence @anderii @bumani

@burningpoisonroaster

[josephsb]

Project: Lifetime

Danny's research - Chimera Encyclopedia

Chimera Entry #1: Goastypium

Threat Level: 3/10

Description:

The reminiscent image of a member of the barely-extinct Bovidae family fused with a plant of the Gossypium hirsutum species. They have long ears, a small nose used to smell the humidity of the soil; and most commonly they present two bolls in the shape of horns, determining their sex.

These creatures' bodies consist of a single "leg stem" ending in a hoof from where their heads grow, making them able to walk on land and defend themselves. Their heads grow from the main boll alongside the cotton, which also serves as protection from predators as they mimic regular plants of the same species.

There are secondary bolls called "Gossephalus" (Specimen B) from where new, underdeveloped heads can grow. These don't serve any purpose other than being a replacement for the main head, in case it gets badly damaged. It is a rather rare occurrence to see living multi-headed samples of the Goastypium. The main head is unable to control the gossephalus as both specimens have a brain of their own, which can lead to parasitic behavior to a certain degree as both sides try to get full control over their body. The more active heads the more energy its body consumes, which can make the Goastypium die from extreme fatigue.

(Research note: There's not a consistent number of gossephalus that can grow from one "leg stem". This secondary effect makes their average lifespan nearly impossible to determine)

Their fur color, and their cotton by extension, can range from pure white to some light shades of gray, brown, red, yellow, and even greenish-yellow. This cotton is commonly harvested as it is a lot more resistant to other species. The "leg stem" hoof allows investigators to determine how healthy a Goastypium is:

Soft and malleable: Sick/to the brink of death (for the whole individual, including gossephalus)

Hardened: Healthy and ready to harvest its cotton

Danny's observations: People continuously underestimate Goastypiums strength for their size. They can break a bone or two if they are in top health, not to mention how aggressive they can be whenever they feel in danger... And how they tend to attack in hordes. I've seen a lot of caretakers being sent to the Garden's local hospital not long after they entered their habitat so... Yeah.

To be honest I would raise their danger level from 3 to 5. Anyone who's not qualified enough to prevent a Goastypium attack should stay away from them. Especially the Garden's gardeners. I don't understand how HR lets these chimeras roam around like they're nothing to worry about.

[halfagone]

WIPS... All the WIPS...

*Please note that this post will be frequently updated as more fics/ideas/concepts are idealized and finished*

Updated As Of 6/28/23

*One Work was removed from "Currently Released/In The Works" to mark it has been completed. For a full discography of halfagone's works, check out this link.*

The marker, (*), indicates that this work is currently a high priority.

Any fic title in red text means it is currently being reconsidered for release.

Multi-chapter

Currently Released/In The Works

lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood (*)

down the rabbit hole (goes the throne)

billy batson and the phantom

weekend wonders

present, future, past

Insomniacs Anonymous

bloodlines

trust no one (trust me)

pay your dues

Off With [the Demon's] Head (*)

bones and all (*)

Just added!

Eldritch Situations

(The long-awaited sequel to Eldritch Toddler)

Summary:

Five times a teenage Danny and a toddler Danny did something supernatural to get out of something inconvenient, and the one time they didn't have to.

6 chapters in total.

To Be Released

path of reckless abandon

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels

Summary: Bruce finds out he had a son with an accidental, drunk one night stand and wants to do his best and be there for the boy after missing so much of his life. Danny, said son, would very much like his world to go back to being normal. And yet, he can't seem to turn down any and all opportunities to get to know his father better, and the life he could have had. Danny has never claimed to have masochistic tendencies. But it certainly looks like he might be starting to.

Ships: Past Brief Maddie Fenton/Bruce Wayne

escape

Genre: Horror/Thriller/Mystery

Summary: An unfamiliar alien species has come to Earth in search of an equally unknown species known as 'halfas'. With most of the planet's governments unwilling to allow the travelers' free access to the Earth and its populace, it's left to the Justice League to investigate the truth and possibly even convince the only living halfa left in existence to come meet and aid these alien visitors.

Meanwhile, Danny faces his own problems. It might be said that Phantom haunts Amity Park, but let it be said that the Ghost Zone haunts Danny right back.

Ships: None/TBD

danny (fenton) luthor's how-to guide to dying

Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels

Summary: You know the story Danny keeps telling everyone about his heart failure in lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood? This is the full truth behind it.

In other words: On September 30th, Danny died. Sometimes it's easy to forget the people who had to deal with the aftermath. (It's not easy to forget the consequences.)

abandonment issues

Genre: Action, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship

Summary: Chat Noir hasn't been in Paris for weeks now, and Ladybug has little to no clue why. She can never seem to get him on the phone either, only voice messages traded back and forth that never tells her any details. She only gets a better idea when she sees him on the news taking down a mysterious enemy alongside Gotham City's Red Robin and another, unknown vigilante. Ladybug doesn't know how to fix this.

Chat Noir has his own set of problems to deal with. It doesn't stop him from feeling bad for ghosting Ladybug.

Ships: TBD

learning to love again (love yourself)

Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: It starts like this: Adrien meets Danny, Danny meets Adrien. They hit it out of the park. It ends like this: Danny, on the floor, taking a shot meant for Adrien. There are a million things left unsaid in between.

Ships: TBD

treading the waves

Genre: Thriller, Mystery

Summary: It shouldn’t be surprising that the GIW has a high turnover rate, what with their poor rep and all the wild situations their agents tend to get involved with in Amity Park. Agents have come and gone before, that’s nothing new. Yet, when the head of operations gets ousted, no one is prepared for their replacement. The GIW might have been widely considered nuisances, but that was more for their penchant for property damage and general incompetence. But this new guy? He’s ready and willing to crack down on Amity Park’s ghost problem with an iron fist. 

And even he can see that there’s something very off about Daniel Fenton.

Ships: None/TBD

brittle (This title is subject to change)

Genre: Action, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: When Duke is discovered to be a metahuman and taken by a shadowy organization, he finds himself struggling at a loss of what to do. He knows he has to help save all these other metahuman children, but how can he do that without revealing his secret identity and training? Thankfully, his cellmate, Danny, seems willing to help.

Ships: TBD (Possible Duke x Danny)

One-Shots

a grieving man's grave

Genre: TBD

Summary: On the anniversary of his parents' deaths, Bruce spots Danny in that same alleyway. It goes about as well as you might expect.

Ships: None

troubles with immortality

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Status: In the Works

Summary: Duke might be immortal. He doesn't know how to feel about that. Luckily, his new friend Tucker knows someone who might be able to help out.

Ships: None

time is an illusion, reality is a joke (and i'm the puncline)

Tags TBA: Angst, Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Batfamily

Summary: Bruce is saved from the brink of death by a mysterious meta. The more obsessed he grows in finding his teenage rescuers, the more his family worries about him. Especially since, by all indications, this teenager literally does. Not. Exist.

That is, until someone else nearly does too.

Unholy

Tags TBA: Graphic Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Heavy Angst

Summary: Amity Park stands at a precipice of its very own annihilation. The tenuous balance that it has maintained for the past few centuries has finally begun to tip sideways, and not in a favorable direction. People are fleeing, although some remain behind, intent to help as many as they can and possibly even restore the balance between realms. 

With great reluctance, Maurice Foley takes his young daughter and flees from Amity Park at the advice of his wife and son, who choose to stay in the crumbling Amity Park. He flees to safety in the form of his brother-in-law, Jefferson Pierce, otherwise known as Black Lightning. When Jeff finds out about the state of his sister and brother-in-law’s home city, he takes the matter to the Justice League in hopes of saving Amity Park from complete ruin. 

They don’t make it in time.

[Next part of the lex luthor's guide series!]

lex luthor's list of filed complaints

Summary: Lex gets owned on a live television event by a teenager. In other news, Lex has a new intern! Somewhere along the way, he becomes a father to said intern, because obviously no one is parenting this child, so Lex will just have to do it himself.

a dream is a wish (your heart makes) - Title Subject to Change

Tim Drake/Danny Fenton Two-shot Rated T Tags include: Fluff, Love at First Sight, Cinderella-inspired

audience with death

Tim Drake/Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter WARNING: This work may include scenes that viewers might find disturbing.

tightrope

Dick Grayson/Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter

spell it out for me, please

Jason Todd/Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T Tags include: Fluff, Slow Burn, Teacher AU, BAMF Jason Todd

time stand still for me

Duke Thomas/Danny Fenton One-shot Rated T

two cents in

Tim Drake & Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter Tags include: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Child Neglect

Witness Protection Program - Title Subject to Change

Relationships TBD Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter Tags include: Angst, Whump, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior

hollow victory

Hal Jordan & Danny Fenton, Dick Grayson & Danny Fenton, More TBA Two-shot Rated T WARNING: Temporary Major Character Death

The Fall of the Graysons

Dick Grayson & Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter Tags include: Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Broken Families, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence

Magnetism

Summary:

When Danny was little, his favorite comic book character was Magneto. When he gets powers of his own, it shows.

There is a new anti-hero roaming about. It's about time the Justice League did something about that.

[dp-marvel94]

Offspring of My Ectoplasm. My child.

Summary: Based on Phantom Offspring by LightSage89. Featuring unexpected acquisition of ghost baby (because ghost biology is weird) and cute dad Danny.

Word count: 5,081

Also on A03 and Fanfiction.net

Note: So this is the thing I posted about earlier today. @floralflowerpower, @mymadmedleyw @jadenoryuu @chaos-is-my-lifeblood

So do you ever do that thing where you read someone else’s fic and daydream about how you’d continue it for months? Just me then?

This idea is based on this story. Phantom Offspring by LightSage89. @light-eco-sage

From the summary of that story. “Every three years, ghosts enter a reproductive cycle. It has been three years since the Portal Accident [age 17], and Danny enters his first reproductive cycle without knowing it. One would think without a ghost for a mate, nothing would come of it, but ghost biology is a little stranger than that.” So basically by the end of the story, through weird ghostly asexual reproduction, Danny ends up with nine offspring, eight animal-like ghosts and one phantom (a species of ghost). Phantoms are mischievous, small, and completely invisible. These spirits are a little more intelligent than animal-like ghosts. They can generally understand speech but aren’t able to produce sound, much less speak. For ghosts produced this way, the offspring generally leave right after ‘hatching’ and so the spawning ghost doesn’t have any parental responsibilities to them. So all of Danny’s brood leaves and he moves on with his life. My idea starts seven or so years later when Danny is in his mid-twenties.

Danny’s duties as future ghost king have him spending a lot of time in the ghost zone. He visits different realms - like Dora’s Kingdom, the Far Frozen, the Acropolis of Athens - to learn about the zone’s history and culture. He establishes relations with other areas, making more allies and learning everything that he can.

One day, when he’s in the Acropolis for a multi-day festival, he runs into a familiar ghost. A little phantom literally flies right into his head, ruffling his hair playfully. Danny instantly recognizes the small spirit as one of his. It’s one of his phantoms, in fact the phantom from his first nesting. Danny’s eyes light up, excited to see the little ghost after so long.

The phantom hangs around for a while, generally causing mischief as all phantoms tend to do. The presence warms Danny’s heart but at the same time… it stings. He knows the little ghost won’t hang around for long. Anytime he’d run into his offspring before, they never had. His phantom would likely move on by the morning.

But that is not what happens. At breakfast the next morning, a mischievous ghost knocks over his cup. Danny blinks in surprise, recognizing the being. His phantom is still here. The small ghost continues following him around for the rest of the day and the next. It gets underfoot at the market, steals his food, hides his shoes. The phantom makes all sorts of trouble but Danny’s core flutters happily as an invisible form presses into his chest. A presence brushes his hand. Tiny fingers grip his hair. Actually…

That’s strange. Though able to interact with the world, phantoms don’t have defined forms. He shouldn’t be able to feel hands in his hair, feet standing on his shoulders. But Danny brushes off the oddity. He goes to sleep with the little phantom pressed into his chest.

Danny wakes up with a small, visible figure tucked under his chin. The half ghost blinks, taking in the ghost. It’s in the shape of a person with a head, arms, and legs, even if only as tall as his hand. The hair is white, most of the body black. And… Danny’s breath catches as the little green eyes look up at him. It looks like him, like Danny himself, except at 14. A miniature version of him as a teen.

Eyes wide, Danny tentatively reaches for the ghost. His fingers brush and… he recognizes the presence, the energy, the vague emotions churning under his touch. It’s… it’s his phantom. Except completely visible.

Danny quickly stands, picking up the small ghost and holding it to his chest. The phantom wiggles, trying to escape.

“Hey. Hey. Calm down. I need to find out what happened to you.” The man pleads.

The phantom stopped at the words, relaxing into his hold.

Danny finds Pandora and anxiously asks for an explanation.

“It manifested.” The woman peers down at the phantom with some surprise.

“Manifested?” Danny asked.

A nod. “That is when a phantom takes on a physical appearance. It is not very common, but does tend to happen when a phantom spends prolonged time with its maker. Most will take on their spawner’s form, though miniature.”

Danny looks down at his offspring. Well, that is definitely true. “So… is this permanent or….”

Pandora chuckles. “Do not worry. This normally does not last long. It will get bored soon, wander off, and cease to be your shadow.”

Something in Danny stings at the thought. He absently ruffles the phantom’s hair, which wiggles again before breaking out of his hold and flying off.

Danny’s heart sinks. He goes back to the festivities. Except his phantom returns less than an hour later, just as visible as before. The small ghost flutters around him, leaving and coming back, making mischief as always. But that night, Danny still falls asleep with his offspring close to his core.

Sometime later, Danny leaves the Acropolis and the phantom goes with him. Danny stops in his lair briefly before planning to go back home, through the portal. The small ghost follows, excitedly buzzing around the room, investigating and knocking things over.

The half ghost rolls his eyes at the mess before chuckling as the phantom tangles itself in the blanket on his couch. “Tuck was right. You really do take after me.” Something in Danny aches at the words.

The phantom zips out of the blanket before running into a framed photo on one of the end tables and falling onto the wooden surface. For once, the small ghost stays still, just staring at the picture.

Danny approaches, kneeling to see the picture. The corner of his lip turns up. “That’s Sam, my wife.” He looks at his offspring. “Do you remember her? She was there when you hatched.”

The little ghost does not respond, not even with a nod. But for just a moment, something sparks in the eyes, recognition.

The half ghost watches for another few minutes as his phantom explores. Then, the small ghost darts in front of him, rubbing up against his chest. There’s…. an emotion communicated there, some type of affection. Danny’s heart clenches as he gently wraps his hand around the ghost.

“I have to go home now.” He says softly. “Back to the human world. To my friends and… family.” He stumbles on the word, because… isn’t the ghost he’s holding family too? “You probably don’t know this but… I’m half human. I’m not a full ghost like you are. So you can’t come with me.” His shoulders fall. “Not that you probably want to.”

The little ghost shifts under his hand and Danny lifts it. But his phantom doesn’t fly away. Instead, it tilts its head to look up at the half ghost. Danny feels his heart melt, even as his eyes start watering. “I loved getting to see you these past few days so much. I… God… I’ve missed you and your siblings so much.”

That is the problem with being half human. Most ghosts don’t care about their offspring, not the ones produced without a partner. But for Danny… every time he has to capture an animal-like ghost in Amity, every time a mischievous phantom drifts through the portal, he thinks about them. He wonders where his offspring are, how they’re doing. “I figured I’d never see you again. But… you’re here. And that made me so happy.”

Danny sighs, pausing for a moment as the little ghost hovers in front of him. “I’ll be back in a few days to visit the Far Frozen.” He looks down. “I’ll understand if you’re not here when I come back. I know how phantoms are.” He reaches forward, ruffling the fluffy white hair. “So bye, little guy. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

The small ghost presses into Danny’s hand. And for just a moment, the half ghost feels a hum, a buzz like a core purring. But the feeling vanishes. He stands, floating to the door and closing it. He pats the opening of the lair; it will let the little phantom leave if it wants to. But… “I hope you’re still here when I come back.”

Danny leaves, heart hurting despite his excitement to see Sam and his other loved ones.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later, Danny returns. He opens the door to his lair, expecting an empty room but… there, sitting on his couch, still visible, is the little phantom.

The half ghost’s eyes light up, joy sparking. He grins, scooping up his offspring in a hug without thinking. The small ghost accepts; for just a second, equal excitement brushes Danny’s core from the outside. “Come on. We’re going to the Far Frozen, Buddy.”

The phantom hovers up, sitting on his shoulder. Danny flies to the icy realm for a few days of study. The little ghost stays near him all this while.

This continues for several weeks. Every time Danny returns to the Ghost Zone, his little phantom is still there, still visible. His offspring is his constant companion. He talks to the small ghost. Even if it can’t respond, he knows it listens, maybe even understands. Danny eats his meals with it. He even tries to play with it- tag, simple hand games, with various improvised toys. But the small ghost has little interest. Danny’s heart swells with growing affection all the while.

But… things are not all well. Other ghosts look at the pair oddly. Eyes narrow in judgment, flicker away in suspicion. It makes Danny’s stomach churn. Sure, Pandora said that phantoms manifesting are rare. And yeah, no ghost Danny knows ever treats their single-parent offspring like this, so affectionately. But this can’t be that odd.

Dora approaches Danny, the next time he is in her kingdom.

Danny sits under a tree with his legs splayed in front of him, the small phantom facing him. He forms a tiny marble of ice in his hand and rolls it towards his offspring. “Come on. Catch it.” He encourages.

The little phantom just stares at the marble, uncomprehending. The ball rolls, coming to a stop between its own splayed legs.

“Now roll it back to me.” Danny waves with his hand, showing the action.

The small ghost looks up, head tilting as if confused.

“Sir Phantom.” Dora interrupts. “May I speak with you?”

“In a bit.” Danny waves her off. “I’m trying to get this one to play with me.” His head turns back to the smallest ghost. “Let’s try again.” The man grabs the marble before gently rolling it back to his miniature look-alike. “You can do it. Catch it.” He tries to spur on the little ghost. The ball rolls to a stop and curiously, the phantom reaches forward to take it. “Yes! That’s it! Now roll it back.” Instead, the small being grabs the marble and darts away.

Danny deflates with a sigh. “We’ll try again later.” He mutters.

After a pause, Dora sits down beside him. “Your offspring is quite handsome.” She starts. “A very fine specimen, for a phantom.”

The half ghost turns, raising a brow at her before his expression softens. “Yeah. The little guy’s great.” His voice rings out with affection before grinning. “Takes right after me, huh?”

Dora doesn’t respond positively, as Danny expected. “Sir Phantom, my trusted knight.” She pauses, her expression turning serious. “I fear… you are becoming too attached.”

The halfa’s eyes narrow. “Queen Dorathea.” He sees her flinch in surprise, hurt at his use of her full name and title. “What is that supposed to mean?”

The queen visibility fights not to slump. “I mean no offense. I simply do not wish for you to get hurt.”

“By my attachment… to my own offspring?” He frowns, severe.

“You must understand. Phantoms are not like us. They are flighty little things. They go where they please, when they please, causing mischief.” She looks in the direction the small ghost had flown. “Yes, your phantom is a cute little thing and its continued presence is an exciting delight. But you must realize it is temporary.”

Danny’s shoulders fall. “I know. Pandora told me that but…” He balls his fists, sounding resolute. “I’m just trying to make the most of the time we’ve got.”

“Are you?” Dora raises a brow, expression hardening. “Your behavior does not strike me as that of maker to offspring. It seems to be quite parental.”

The half ghost stiffens at the word. Parental. No, that isn't… that’s not what he's doing. And yet…. He bits his lip.

“So you do not refute my words.” The queen states after searching his face. She then sighs. “Daniel. I fear that you are setting yourself up for pain. Phantoms are not like us.” She again emphasizes. “They are simple, coreless, unchanging beings.” Her eyes bore into him. “They do not speak, they do not grow, they do not change. And it can be guaranteed, they do not stay.”

Danny’s heart twists at the words and yet, anger flickers in him. “What are you implying Dora?”

She maintains his hard gaze, her own eyes narrowing into draconian slits. “Offspring are not children. No amount of desire will make them so.” Instantly, her pupils round again, a grieved look covering her face.

The expression douses Danny’s anger, like water poured on a fire. “Dora?”

She looks down. “I only wish to save you from pain, as I have experienced.”

A pause. “What happened?”

“Centuries ago….” Dora starts, closing her eyes. “I had a phantom who manifested.” A soft smile graces her face. “She was a beautiful little girl. Little blonde pigtails, the cutest dimple. She was the light of my afterlife, for the time she was with me. Curious, Affectionate. She followed me everywhere I went. She was my little girl, my little Estrella. I named her and she came flying whenever I called to her. I began to hope….” Her voice lowered. “They say that if fate is particularly generous, if parent and phantom offspring agree, then… there might be a transformation.”

“Transformation?” Danny asks, tentatively.

“A miraculous change. From mere offspring into… child. A child of the same kind as their maker.” Her shoulders fall at the word, tears welling in her eyes. “I wished to be parent. So I named my would-be child. I set up a nursery, had clothing made. I showered my Estrella with affection and she reciprocated. She loved her toys. She ate from my plate. She allowed me to dress her. I thought… I thought we would begin our new afterlife together.” A tear spills down her face. “I thought we agreed but…”

Danny’s heart falls. “What happened?” He asks, even as dread pools in his stomach.

“We did not agree.” Dora says simply. There is a long pause, her lip pinched tightly closed. Then… “She disappeared. I know not whether she simply became invisible again or… faded. But… I never saw my little girl again.”

The pair stare down, neither speaking. Danny’s mind crowds with thoughts, pain spiking through his heart as his own little phantom’s face sparks in his mind.

“I would never wish that pain on any soul.” Dora vows. “Daniel… Please, listen to one with experience. I warn you to save you that same sorrow and grief.”

Danny does not meet her eyes for a long while, staring towards the castle. A small black and white figure darts towards them before slowing. Danny’s little phantom. The ghost holds… a pink flower, which it drops into Danny’s lap before landing on his shoulder and nuzzling his cheek.

The half ghost moves a hand up, to cup his offspring. “Dora. I…I understand what you’re saying but… getting to know this little guy, no matter how long it lasts… I know it’s worth it.”

Dora’s face is thoughtful for a long moment before softening. “I hope then that his presence brings you joy, no matter what the outcome.”

Danny brings his hand forward to ruffle the phantom’s hair. “Thanks Dora.” He looks down at the phantom, something in Dora’s words sparking in his mind. His… He should probably stop calling his offspring an it; the little phantom does look male, like a boy. “Come on, little man. I’m ready to get some food.”

The pair fly off, back towards the castle. Danny eats and the small ghost sits with him, mostly playing with the food but… to the half ghost’s pleasant surprise, his offspring tries a few bites.

Danny smiles proudly, even as he cleans off the food-covered face. “You made a mess there, huh?”

Dora’s words still ring in his head, a bittersweet feeling crowding his heart. Still… no matter what, he will make the most of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another trip back through the portal. Mostly happy days with his friends and family. Lingering sadness too and worry that the next he ventures back into the Ghost Zone, the little phantom will be gone.

Still… eventually, Danny has to go back. More duties to attend to, more visits to make, this time to the Far Frozen. To his relief, his offspring is still waiting in his lair. The half scoops up his phantom in a hug. But… Dora’s words…

‘Phantoms are not like us. They do not speak. They do not change. And they do not stay.’

Danny tightens his hold slightly. No. None of that mattered. He loved… he loved the little guy, no matter what he was or what he was not, no matter what he could or could not do. But that last bit, the thought of him leaving… It hurt, deep in Danny’s soul.

The man reassures himself. He’ll be okay with just this, just a few weeks with his offspring. With just being followed around by the silent, unchanging presence. It’s enough. It has to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny sits around a fire in the Far Frozen. He watches two yetis with a smaller one between them, their child. One scoops the young yeti into their arms, tickling the little one’s belly who giggles. And something in Danny aches at the sight. Two parents with their child. Their kid.

Earlier in the week, when he’d been home, he and Sam had talked. They’d talked about his phantom manifesting, Dora’s words, the other ghost’s reactions. They’d talked about Dora’s accusation, his ‘parental’ behavior.

And they’d talked about wanting kids. And they agreed. They both wanted kids but… because of his half-ghost status, Danny can never have children with a human partner, never have children with Sam. He watches across the way as one of the adults plays some type of hand game with their child. That…that will never be him and Sam. And it’s Danny’s fault, because he’s infertile.

Except… he looks down at his little phantom. That’s not true. He’s plenty fertile; curse weird ghostly biology. He’s had no problem producing offspring of his own ectoplasm. But… there is a difference between an offspring and a child.

Danny closes his eyes, breathing. Because, damn it, Dora was right. He wants more, more than just this. He doesn’t want what is essentially a loyal, excited pet following him around for a few weeks. He wants a child that he could watch grow up, a child that he and Sam can raise and love. He wants… ‘I wished to be parent’ Dora had said. That was what Danny himself wants now.

But….Danny pulls his phantom to his chest, kissing him on the head. His heart aches. He loves this little ghost so much. So much. That affection swells in him. He would give his life to protect his little one. He can imagine. The little ghost in his arms but different. A toddler’s frame and size. Chubby hands. Playing patty cake. A child’s laughter. He’d… he’d give his soul to hear that sound from the mouth of the small body pressed into him. But…

Offspring are not children. No amount of desire will make them so.

Dora is right. His desire will not change reality. It won’t change the being in his arms into a different type of creature altogether. And it’s wrong to want his offspring to be something he can not be. His heart twists guiltily at thought. He can’t force that on his little one. He won’t. He won’t expect, demand, beg, or wish for him to be anything more than what he is.

Danny kisses the little head again. “I love you. I love you so much.”

The small phantom presses into him, wrapping small arms around his fingers. Something… new flutters in the feelings coming from the ghost, a cacophony of emotions. And there, under his fingers, sparks the faint buzz of a core.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny brings the little ghost back through the portal with him and calls Sam. If they stay in his parents’ lab, near the portal, the little one should be okay. Minutes later, his wife arrives. And…

The little phantom darts forward, curious and then excited when he recognizes the woman.

Sam laughs as the little guy investigates her hair. “You do look just like your daddy.”

Danny blinks, startled at the words before relaxing. They’d joked about that when he was younger. But now…. Daddy… the word rings differently in his heart. Now that he’s made the decision, now that he’s promised to love no matter what.

Sam tickles the little ghost, who rolls in the air, laughing without sound. She turns to her husband. “What’s his name?”

Again, the half ghost is given pause. “His name?”

“You haven’t named him.” His wife crosses her arms.

Danny rubs the back of his neck. “Honestly… Pandora said this would be temporary. So… I hadn’t bothered with it yet.” His voice quiets at the reminder. He hadn’t bothered because this wasn't going to last. Any day now, the little guy would get bored and Danny would never see him again but….

Guilt swells in his heart.Still…his little one deserves a name, doesn’t he?

His eyes trace the small body; his phantom does look just like him, like Phantom. “I’m thinking Jackson.” Danny blurts out.

Sam raises a brow before laughing. “Really? After your dad?”

“It just sounds right.” Danny doesn’t say how excited his dad would be to have his first grandchild named after him. Because… grandchild… no, this little phantom isn’t Jack Fenton’s grandchild. He’ll never really be Sam and Danny’s child, even if they both want…

The man swallows, grabbing his wife’s hand. “You should pick out the middle name.”

The couple’s eyes met and… the woman’s expression softens; Danny sees that she understands. “How about Aaron? That was my granddad’s name.”

��Jackson Aaron Fenton.” The man hums thoughtfully. “It’s great.” And just like that…

“Jackson?” Sam asks, addressing the small. “How do you like that name? Huh, Jackson?”

No response. After a pause, Danny experimentally calls. “Jackson?”

The phantom’s gaze turns instantly and his head might just nod. The ghost flies to Danny, landing on his shoulder and placing tiny hands on his cheek.

“I think he likes it.” Sam says with a smile.

“Do you, Jackson? Do you like that name?” Danny asks.

For just a moment, there’s a hum. A cacophony of emotions wafts off the phantom before returning to simple contentment.

“I think that answers it.” Danny smiles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jackson. Their little phantom has a name now. And the half ghost uses it with glee. The name is sweet as honey on his tongue. It rings like the sound of a bell. Danny’s eyes light up whenever the little ghost reacts to the name, even if it’s only half of the time.

The small ghost still goes from kingdom to kingdom with Danny. Jackson still causes trouble. Danny still tries to play, even if the simplest game of patty cake is beyond the ghost. Danny tries to teach his offspring to nod and shake his head for yes and no. But no lessons stick. Still….

The little ghost is affectionate, even more so than before. He loves cuddling with Danny, little body pressed up against his heart. Sometimes, a faint buzzing rings in time with the half ghost’s core. Jackson eats more often off of Danny’s plate. He sleeps more often too, not just when Danny himself is sleeping.

Danny watches, expression soft and loving as Jackson sleeps on the couch. His little chest moves up and down, in mock breathing. His arms wrap around the keychain stuffed penguin Sam had given him.

Sam and he had talked. They had made their decision. They were parents. Their little phantom, Jackson Aaron Fenton-Phantom, was their son. Even if he wasn’t like them, even if they only have him for a limited amount of time.

The half ghost kneels down, watching the sleeping figure closer. His ears twitch at… the soft sound of breathing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny flies Sam to his lair.

“He was asleep when I left.” The man says as he opens the door. “I figured he’d want to see you again.”

The couple cross the threshold and Jackson stirs at the sound, letting out a silent yawn. He darts up, glow flashing brighter in excitement.

“Hi there.” Sam smiles.

The little ghost flies up, nuzzling into her cheek before darting to Danny and doing the same.

The goth chuckles. “I brought you something.” She pulls out a tiny rubber ball and holds it out.

Jackson tilts his head, studying the object.

“It’s for you.” Danny encourages. “Go ahead and take it.”

Tentatively, the phantom flies forward. He lowers, landing on Sam’s hand, and tentatively takes the toy. He floats for a long moment, looking between the two adults.

“Do you want me to play with you?” Sam asks.

The little one’s head moves oh so subtly. Danny blinks. Was that… a nod?

The goth clearly notices as well, eyes widening. She kneels. “Just roll it to me, Jackson.”

The small ghost lands on the floor, sitting with his legs splayed in front of him. For a long moment, he stares at the ball before…. He pushes it away from himself, towards the woman.

“Good job!” Sam congratulates, clapping. She catches the ball and pushes it back to the little ghost. “Roll it back to mama.” After a hesitant pause, Jackson rolls the ball back.

Danny kneels as well. “You did it! You did it, little guy!”

Soon, there is no hesitation. Jackson passes the ball, chest shaking with soundless giggles. Danny and Sam couldn’t be more proud.

They keep playing for a while, before Jackson flies off. He explores, periodically bringing small objects back to the couple.

Sam tilts her head questioningly as the little phantom sits on the coffee table, nippling on an oversized cracker held in his small hands.

“What is it?” Danny asks.

“Is he bigger?”

The half ghost blinks. “What?”

“He was the length of your hand earlier, the last time I saw him. But…” She held up her hand to compare. “He’s bigger. Maybe… three or four inches taller?”

Danny furrows his brow. He holds up his own hand. And… “You’re right.”

Shock washes over him. Jackson is about one and a half times the length of his hand now. Definitely, measurably bigger. But…

The man leans forward, really looking at the smiling face. And his eyes just about pop out of his skull. Those features… Jackson’s face, it’s smoother, cheeks just a little bit rounder.

“He looks… he looks younger.” He wishes… he wishes he had a picture from before, from right after Jackson manifested. But… it’s burned into his mind. Danny’s likeness, a face identical to his own as a young teen but now…

“He does. He looks… eleven or twelve now. But before… he looked like you did at fourteen.”

The adults look at each other. And Danny’s mind whirls. Because…. Phantoms do not grow. They do not change and yet…. The changes are in front of him.

Something in Danny’s mind sparks, small pieces sliding into place. The increased affection, the subtle nods, the eating and sleeping, finally playing with Sam and him. The… the buzz of a tiny core under his finger. Phantoms are supposed to be coreless but…

There’s a suspicion. One he hadn’t allowed himself to think, yet alone dwell on… But, right in front of him, what he is seeing….

‘They say, that if fate is particularly generous, if parent and phantom offspring agree, then… there might be a transformation.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, once Sam has gone to bed, Danny stands in the doorway to Jackson’s room. It’s sparse, a room specially made for the little phantom. His offspring lies on a bed perfectly sized for him, with his stuffed penguin in his arms.

Danny kneels in front of the bed, again studying the sleeping face. The expression is serene, relaxed. Eye pinched closed, fringe ruffled by sleeping breath. The quiet sound of air moving in and out of the little one’s chest. He can almost, almost hear a quiet snore.

The man’s heart swells with hope.

“My little phantom.” Danny breaths. “You knew… I said before that I wasn’t like you. I’m a half ghost. And you’re a full ghost, a phantom. But…. I’m a Phantom too.” He chuckles lightly. “That’s what I named my ghost form anyway.”

There’s a pause as the man watches the chest rise and fall again. When he next speaks, his voice is quiet and sober. “We’re not that different. I know we’re not. Dora said… well, a lot of things but… phantoms aren’t supposed to be able to grow or change. They aren’t supposed to be able to make noise, definitely not talk. And they don’t stay. Not as long as you have.” Tentatively, slowly, Danny reaches. His thumb ruffles the sleeping head. “Oh, Jackson. The offspring of my ectoplasm. My child.” He pours all of his love, his hope, his belief in the words. “I think… I think you can be more. No, I know. I know you can be. If you want to.”

Danny’s hand shifts, gently rubbing his child’s back. “Sam and I… we love you no matter what you are or what you’re not. That’s what… what parents are supposed to do. Love you unconditionally. And us, your dad and mom, we love you so much, Jackson. Your daddy loves you so much.” He closes watery, emotion-filled eyes, his free hand clutched over his core. “But… if you want more than this. If you want a life with me and Sam. If you want to be not just my offspring but… our son, our baby, our child.” He emphasizes the last word, that distinction, the incredible difference between the two. “If you want things to be different. If you… If you agree… just tell me. Tell me and you can have it.”

The man finishes, his heart poured out. Emotions clash through him. Hope, fear, anxiety, desperation, sadness, love. But… something trickles into him, from the small body under his hand.

Danny’s eyes open and his gaze meets another’s, green eyes so like his own. Those eyes… the expression bores into him, the depth boundless. There is so much there, so many emotions, so many feelings. Danny’s hand shifts, moving to the bed in front of his son. A tiny hand grabs his pinky. And determination, certainty, assurance presses into his mind, from the child before.

A word is breathed into his very soul. Yes

In the morning, when Danny tickles Jackson, for the first time, his child laughs out loud.

[void-writing]

What if Danny's core is multi-elemental or adaptive? He temporarily stole Vortex's power, called on fireballs, and shot electricity in the show.

What if Frostbite is partly wrong about Danny's core? But only because his ice powers were the first ones that manifested on their own before he accidentally called on them. So they're currently his strongest elemental powers which has affected his core. Some things just happen by coincidence. Plus he got actual training for them.

Not necessarily CiM related, I just found it cool.

(Although I've been imaginging the DC characters' outside reactions if Danny should suddenly manifest flames. XDD Meanwhile, Danny is like,

"Shit, I forgot I could do this. Why does my core feel differently?!? AND THERE WASN'T THAT MUCH FIRE BEFORE."

XDD Adaptive powers for Danny in the most inconvenient way possible now that he's gotten stronger and more stable. So his core hammers out the next power set.)

lmao

I'm sticking with just a plain vanilla ice-core for CiM for the sake of my sanity. Danny's got enough going on power-wise in this story, so I'm not going to make even more work for myself by giving him the Swiss-army-knife-equivalent of cores because I just know that will get out of hand way too fast lol

BUT. I do enjoy a good adaptive-core Danny story :3 Meta-wise it makes sense (at least to me) that Danny's core-affinity would be a lot more flexible than other ghosts on account of him being alive and still possessing the inherent dynamism that comes with the living.

The next big fic that I'm noodling on is a halfa!Jason story (and maybe just liminal!Batfam in general), so I think I'll use omni-core!Danny there for the sake of the chaos that you've proposed. I do love me the idea that Danny is like the ultimate chameleon, the epitome of invasive species that out-adapts anything that could challenge him XD

But that's not going to be for a while. CiM has been going for three months and I'm only just breaking into double digit chapters. And I'm not a third of the way through!

[artificialqueens]

Masters of the Scene, Chapter 20 (Bitney Parent Trap AU) - Veronica 

A/N: Thank you so much to @tumble4rpdr for her absolutely amazing feedback as beta, and to anyone to who left comments and kudos and likes: you guys are awesome, and truly know how to keep me inspired. 

Click here for prequels and previous chapters, or here if you’d rather read on AO3. 

Chapter Summary: Bianca gets familiar with the farm, and they all have an extremely awkward family lunch. 

***

Bianca hated to admit it, but as soon as Courtney was gone, she felt the burden of pressing, immediate guilt being lifted a little from her chest, and she could follow the kids around while acting (and breathing) normally. 

Danny’s room was in no way a ‘baby room’ - it was full of fun, bright colors, joyously reflective of his personality. The overflowing bookcases covering one whole wall showed what an avid reader he was; the dinosaur collection arranged in adorable groups looked, intentionally or not, like multi-species family photos. There was a row of glittering prisms in the windows that cast ever-moving rainbows onto the whole room. 

The kids then showed her the “secret” staircase in the corridor between their bathrooms, which led to a shared loft space. It was basically the world’s coolest indoor treehouse, tricked out like every tween’s fantasy rec room: a giant TV, video games, mini-fridge and popcorn machine, a plush rug, bean bag chairs, mounds of pillows and blankets and cute inflatable furniture. Future den of sin, Bianca noted, while also admiring what a cozy space Courtney had designed for them. 

“Mum doesn’t like us to have too much screen time in our bedrooms,” Danny explained. 

“Good luck controlling that,” Bianca chuckled.

“We’ve told her,” Adore said.

“But also…” Danny gestured around. “Who’s gonna say no to this?” 

Bianca laughed, nodding. Who indeed. 

They continued on. The house was huge, even more spacious than Bianca would have guessed from that amazing kitchen, but it was laid out so thoughtfully, full of personal touches like reclaimed wood, framed photos of the kids at every age, art from all over the world, bursts of color and warmth everywhere. It was a sharp contrast to the cold, sterile interiors Bianca was used to from people with money for this type of space. 

There was a grand entry hall that led into a chic but inviting living room, perfect for entertaining, along with a 16-seat movie theatre. A gently curved staircase led up to several spare bedrooms, in a separate wing from the kids, and another set of stairs led back down into a warm and cozy family room. Next to the library. A library, for christ’s sake. 

By the time they got to the dining room, which easily sat twenty, Bianca had lost count of the number of fireplaces she’d seen. They walked through another living room, this one sunken and half outside. It opened up to a patio with a view of the pristine swimming pool with its cascading waterfalls. 

“The other guest rooms are above the pool house,” Danny said, as they walked past yet another fireplace, “And that’s the outdoor kitchen.” 

He gestured to the other side of the patio, where Courtney was standing in front of a large grill. 

“Hi Mum!” Adore chirped, skipping forward to give Courtney a kiss. 

“Hi darling! Are you all finished?” 

“Yeah, we did most of the house, except your room, but that’s boring.”

“Excuse me, my room is lovely.” 

“Blech, it’s all neutrals.”

Courtney didn’t engage with that insult, just laughed and said, “Well, this’ll be ready in about 10 minutes, if you wanna go up and see the garden.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want some help?” Bianca asked. 

“No, it’s all under control. Mostly leftovers,” Courtney said, waving dismissively at the colorful spread taking shape on the table, which most definitely did not look like ‘leftovers.’ But she clearly wanted them to back off, so that’s what Bianca did, following the kids around the pool, up a curved stone pathway.

She’d been seeing the gardens in Courtney’s videos for years. It started with a few planter boxes, a handful of fruit trees that were already on the property, and the citrus trees that Courtney planted when they’d first moved in. It was a bit sad and sparse in the beginning, but she’d kept at it, adding new boxes every year, building out the space, planting more and more. Eventually hiring a few people to help when it became too much for one person. 

It looked like the Garden of Eden now. Lush, colorful, bursting with life. They wandered around a bit, meandering around the walkways, checking out the fruit and vegetables in various stages of development. It was so much more impressive than Bianca ever thought possible based on videos and pictures. So much more alive, with bees buzzing and butterflies fluttering about. Birds of every kind were chirping and singing, while a squirrel scampered over the path, darting into the nearby trees. 

It wasn’t lost on Bianca that she’d asked, practically demanded, for Courtney to leave this place behind. This place that she’d been pouring her heart and soul into for so long, dismissed as her plants. 

How could she have done that? How would she be able to express remorse for that? To show that she really meant it when she said she was sorry? Would Courtney have any reason to believe her?

Bianca closed her eyes and breathed in. She could feel her heart beating quickly, the shame and regret almost suffocating, out here in the sunshine. For most people, the fresh scents of life and fruit and flowering plants and vibrant sounds of birds would be soothing and wonderful. For Bianca, they suddenly represented her own personal hell. 

“Are you okay, Mama?” Danny asked. 

“Yeah!” Bianca’s eyes flew open. “Just not used to, uh, being up this high.” 

“Oh. Yeah, but don’t worry. We’re really far from the cliff.”

“There’s a cliff?” Adore asked, eyes wide. 

“It’s like a mile away,” Danny said. “You’re fine.” 

Bianca put her arms around both kids and gestured to a large building on the other side of the gardens, down a gentle slope covered in tall grass and wildflowers. “Is that the famous Barn?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Very nice.” The ‘Barn’ was the space where Courtney had her studio. She knew from watching her YouTube channels that it was where she shot and edited her videos, and also where she had a suite of offices for her nonprofit work. It was bigger than Bianca expected—although at this point, she wasn’t sure why that was a surprise anymore. 

“So, do you want to go see the-” Danny stopped talking as Adore’s stomach let out a loud rumble. “Uh, excuse you, ma’am.”

“Sorry, I’m hungry,” Adore whined. 

“Let’s go check on lunch,” Bianca suggested. 

***

Lunch, as it turned out, was nearly ready. Courtney asked Danny to retrieve some homemade lemonade from inside, and for Adore to get out the plates and silverware. 

“Can I do anything?” Bianca asked. 

“Uh, sure. Why don’t you help Danny? It’s a lot to carry.” 

“Sure,” Bianca said, rolling her eyes slightly. 

“What?” Courtney’s voice had a bit of an edge to it, the ‘t’ sharper than normal. 

“It…just feels a little like when you ask a three-year-old to help mix the cake batter,” Bianca explained, chuckling. “But yeah, I’ll help Danny.” 

“You really think I would patronize you like that?” Courtney asked, jaw clenched slightly. 

“Well, no…” Small talk, small talk, Bianca’s inner voice warned. “No, that’s not what I…”

Courtney turned back wordlessly to the grill, and Bianca felt her stomach drop. She swallowed quietly and stepped inside, racking her brain for ways to change this tense dynamic. When she and Danny returned, Adore was cheerfully setting the table. 

“You know how to set a table?” Bianca asked, surprised. She’d never seen her do anything remotely like that. She set down the pitcher of raspberry lemonade. 

“Yeah, I’m not a moron,” Adore replied flatly. 

“I don’t think you’re a moron!” Bianca said, “I just think you-”

“Don’t know where forks go?” Adore crossed her arms.

“No!” Bianca sighed slightly, not wanting to get into it with her. “You know what? Forget what I said. You did a great job. And the food looks delicious.” 

The table was laden with an assortment of colorful Middle Eastern salads and dips and a big basket of warm flatbread in the middle. If this was leftovers, then Bianca was the next Queen of England.

“Thanks.” Courtney put down a platter of grilled vegetables that Bianca had to assume were from the garden - eggplant, artichokes, zucchini and yellow squash. It looked incredible. 

As they all sat down to eat, she noticed that Courtney seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact with her, primarily talking to the kids. Bianca supposed she couldn’t blame her, but it still stung. She looked down at her plate, picking at her food, her appetite not what it was a few minutes prior. 

Every so often, though, she would sneak a glance in Courteny’s direction—it was hard not to look at her, after all. 

Upon studying her face a little more, Bianca realized that Courtney may not have rushed getting ready as much as she thought, initially. She was definitely wearing mascara. And lip gloss. Maybe even a little eyeliner and blush. That kind of ‘no makeup’ makeup illusion that Courtney had perfected years ago. Seeing it made Bianca feel a little better for some reason—it had to mean something, that she was putting in effort. 

Maybe it was nothing, but Bianca hung onto it, allowing it to ease her fears a bit. A small ray of hope. At least enough that she could eat a few bites of food. 

“So, were you two good tour guides?” Courtney asked, brushing some hair out of Adore’s eyes. 

“I dunno, were we?” Adore asked, turning to Bianca. 

“Fantastic.” Bianca managed to look up at her with a smile. “Although there was one question you guys couldn’t answer.” 

“What question?” Danny asked.  

“In what universe is this a farmhouse?” Bianca asked, raising an eyebrow and spreading her hands. “This, is a palace. An estate. Or if you’re from where I am…a plantation, maybe.” 

“Oh. Well…Mum calls it a farmhouse,” Adore said, shrugging. She bit into her wrap, unbothered by this simplistic explanation. 

“It used to be smaller,” Danny said. 

“Well, the Grand Canyon used to be a little creek. And your Mum used to—”

“Okay,” Courtney interrupted, clearly not curious about the end of Bianca’s sentence. “‘Farmhouse’ refers to the building style, by the way. Not the size.” 

“Hmph. What size would that be, actually?” Bianca asked, raising her eyebrow curiously. 

“What do you mean?” Courtney spooned some couscous onto her plate, still not making eye contact.

“I mean how big?” she challenged. 

“Like square footage?” Courtney asked innocently.  

“Yeah. Square footage.” Bianca wondered why Courtney was so determined to avoid the question. 

“Off the top of my head?” she asked, finally catching Bianca’s eye, a note in her voice that was almost warm, almost teasing.

“Off the top of your head,” Bianca repeated, staring her down.  

“Oh, it’s so hard for me to remember things in feet, my brain is just rooted in metric-”

“Bullshit,” Bianca said, pointing her fork across the table. She knew that she was being pushy, but she wasn’t prepared to drop it, not now. She was a dog with a bone, finally getting Courtney’s attention, even if it was for a stupid bit of banter. “You know the square footage of your custom-built home, Courtney. Come on.”

“Well, you mean just the house, or like, everything?” Courtney asked, that teasing tone still present. “Because-”

“Everything. All the buildings on the plantation.” Bianca drummed her fingers on the table. She was well aware that Adore and Danny were watching them closely, eyes wide, attention going back and forth between them as if they were at a tennis match. 

Courtney swallowed, trying to sound humble as she said, “Umm, I guess, about fifteen…ish.” 

“Fifteen thousand? Square feet?” 

“Yeah. But that includes the barn, with the offices and—”

“Cheers,” Bianca said, lifting her glass, wishing there was something besides lemonade and sparkling water in there. “Well done.” 

“Thanks.” Courtney met her eyes again, nodding, her own eyes luminous, the pride in her expression only surpassed by her relief. But as quickly as it had appeared, the brightness faded and she looked away quickly. 

Bianca continued to watch her, aching for her to look back up once again, but she didn’t. Fuck. 

“Um…these tomatoes are really good, Mum,” said Adore, after a few moments, breaking the tension. 

“I’m glad you like them,” Courtney said with a smile. 

“They really do live up to the hype,” Bianca said, relieved that Adore had given her this opening.

Courtney didn’t say anything to that, simply letting out a small chuckle while she took a sip of her drink. 

“Although, you know, she won’t eat regular tomatoes anymore. Only heirloom,” Bianca grumbled, rolling her eyes to the sky. When all else failed, falling back on playful grumpiness seemed to be her best technique.

“They taste different!” Adore insisted. 

“When I was growing up, we were lucky to get tomatoes that didn’t come from a can,” Bianca told her. 

“Okay, well, sorry you were poor,” said Adore. “What does that have to do with me?” 

Courtney smothered a laugh behind her hand, as Bianca muttered a good-natured, “smartass,” under her breath. 

“Will you tell her they taste different?” Adore whined, pulling on Courtney’s sleeve. 

“They do taste different,” said Danny, coming to his sister’s defense. “Home-grown tomatoes taste way better than tomatoes from the grocery store.” 

“See! Even Roach agrees.” 

“I’m just saying, you’re not gonna die from a grocery store tomato,” Bianca told her. 

“If you’re gonna get tomatoes from the grocery store, especially out of season, then you should go for small ones. Cherry, grape. They taste the best,” Courtney said, unable to resist a teaching moment. 

“I told you!” Adore shrieked at Bianca accusingly, then turned back to Courtney to complain, “She doesn’t believe me, she always buys those horrible big ones with the vine attached.”

“Nooo, those are the worst ones!” Courtney said, hand to her chest, looking at Bianca like she was a serial killer. 

“I know.” Adore folded her arms smugly and looked over at Bianca. 

“Alright, just eat your lunch,” Bianca said, rolling her eyes. Nothing worse than an 11-year-old who was just told they were right about something. 

***

After they finished eating, they all helped bring the dishes inside. Courtney began to put the food away while the kids finished clearing and Bianca started loading the dishwasher. 

“Any special way you want me to do this?” Bianca asked, noting that the dishwasher was basically empty. 

“No, however you think it fits best.” 

“Uh…okay.” 

There was something almost heartbreakingly domestic about it, the two of them in the kitchen together with the kids still outside. Bianca took a deep breath and turned to Courtney, figuring that now was as good a time as any. Plus, the longer she took to bite the bullet, the harder it would be. 

“Listen…” Bianca cleared her throat as Courtney looked up, and she felt her cheeks heat up. She sounded entitled. She swallowed and shook her head slightly, starting again. “Do you think…could we maybe sit down and talk? Just the two of us?” 

Courtney looked at her for a few moments, and Bianca wondered at first if she would say no, before she gave a nod. “Yeah, of course. That sounds good. We should…I mean, yes.” 

Bianca sagged against the counter, relief flooding her veins. 

When the kids came back in with the rest of the dishes, Courtney ushered them upstairs, suggesting that Danny show Adore the story he wrote about camp for school. They both went easily, but not before throwing some coy looks over their shoulders, their eyes full of hope and expectation, making Bianca feel even more nervous than she already was. 

She went back to the dishwasher to finish while Courtney bustled around, brewing coffee and putting some things on a tray. Bianca couldn’t help watching her, how every movement she made was deliberate, almost as if performing an elaborately choreographed dance.

Bianca’s own hands felt clumsy as she glanced back down at the unfamiliar dishwasher. “Are you, um, sure you don’t have a preferred method here?” 

“No, however you do it is totally fine,” Courtney said.

“Is that code for ‘I’ll just rearrange it later’?” Bianca joked.

“No. It means that my life is just as busy as yours, so I don’t micromanage the fucking dishwasher. Not everything is a conspiracy against you,” Courtney snapped, dumping a bunch of ice into a ceramic container, the cubes clattering violently against the side. 

“I-” Bianca closed her eyes. Fuck. Why did she continually miscalculate every move, destroying every tentative peace between them? She felt incredibly stupid as she explained hoarsely, “I was kidding. I-I’m sorry.” 

Courtney was silent for a few moments, just standing at the counter, moving slowly, shoulders slumped and head down. Finally, Bianca heard an audible swallow, followed by a soft, whispered, “Fuck.” 

*

Courtney gripped the edge of the counter, doing her best to breathe. 

Why did Bianca have the ability to get to her like this? Of course it was a joke. She knew that, but it had still gotten under her skin. Because she’d made another joke just like it earlier, about the fucking lemonade. And besides that, Courtney’s nerves were already frayed. Maybe they’d been that way since August. They’d definitely been that way since Bianca had shown up. 

“It was a dumb joke, I’m sorry-”

“Let’s just,” Courtney took another breath. She’d already lost her shit, so she might as well figure out how to reel it back in. “I can…I can deal with the rest of the mess later, let’s just leave it.” 

Bianca turned towards her. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. I think…the longer we wait, the more…awkward it’ll get,” Courtney said, biting her lip. She looked over at the coffee maker, which had thankfully finished brewing, and moved towards it, filling the carafe, letting the hot liquid crackle over the ice. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Bianca wiped her hands on a dish towel, her movements careful and unsure. 

“I’m just fixing some iced coffee, because I figured-”

“Bless you.”

“-that we could use it,” she finished, as they exchanged a tense smile, before continuing, “Can you grab that tray?” 

“Of course.” Bianca picked up the tray and followed her outside, back to the patio. 

The fresh air would do both of them good; Courtney could sure use it herself. She poured glasses of iced coffee for both of them as Bianca unloaded the plates from the tray and opened the little tin.

“Those are just some biscotti I made last weekend,” Courtney said.  

“Last weekend? Well, fuck that. I demand fresh biscotti, immediately,” Bianca said. Her voice was as drily sarcastic as ever, but her eyes…somehow, it seemed like she was begging Courtney to please take the joke.  

Courtney rolled her eyes, trying to suppress her smile as she pulled the tray over to her own seat. She sat down and slipped on her reading glasses, opening up her notebook and iPad, making sure all her calendars were visible. She flipped to the page with the dates of all the requested visits that she’d sent to Bianca, along with the notes she’d made about possible alternate dates. 

“Okay, I'm glad we’re finally doing this. It’s much easier in person,” she said. When she looked up, Bianca was staring at her with a confused expression. 

“Sorry, doing…?”

“Going over the dates. For visitation. That’s what we’re doing, right?” Courtney asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, I…I mean…” Bianca’s confusion turned to discomfort as she twisted a napkin in her hands. She cleared her throat. 

“You are prepared to go over the dates for our visitation schedule, right?” Courtney asked, trying her best to keep the frustration out of her voice. She’d snapped earlier, and she knew needed to keep control of herself, for both their sakes, “What we’ve been promising the kids since this summer? What I’ve emailed you about at least five times since August?” 

“I, um…sort of had another thing to discuss with you before we-”

“Jesus christ, Bianca!” Courtney exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. She couldn’t even look at her right now.  

“I just, I didn’t think that was the first-”

Courtney sighed, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes. When she looked back at Bianca, she could see that she was incredibly distressed, almost panicked—face pale, taking short, shallow breaths, eyes glassy, fingers digging into the arms of the chair. It gave her pause, so she took a deep breath, attempting to temper her initial reaction and back off. 

She spoke as gently as possible, given the circumstances, asking, “So then what…if that’s not what you were planning to discuss, then what did you…want to talk about? 

“I…” Bianca took a slow breath and then said, “Well…I mean, it’s been almost a month. I just, first, I wanted to see how you were doing. Are you…are you okay? I mean, how are you?” She closed her eyes briefly, as if to reset. “Sorry, I just mean-”

“I’m okay,” Courtney said, putting her out of her misery. No use making this more painful than it had to be. “I’ve had better months, but…I’ve had worse months, so…I’ll be okay.” 

Bianca nodded, lips pressed together. 

“What about you?” Courtney asked. “Are you?…Okay, that is?” 

“I’m...uh...September’s always kind of…” Bianca shook her head, giving a kind of rueful smile. 

“Right.” Courtney fought an urge to reach for her hand, instead saying, “Well, your show was great. As usual.” 

“You saw it?” Bianca asked, sitting up a little straighter, eyes brightening. She seemed shocked, which surprised Courtney. 

“Of course,” she assured her. “We never miss it. Danny and I, we always watch the live feed. Now it’s a tradition.” 

“And…you liked it?” Bianca asked. Normally Courtney would assume she was just fishing for compliments if she asked something like that, but she seemed strangely vulnerable, both hands still clutching the napkin for dear life.

“Spectacular,” Coutney told her, offering a real smile. “Honestly.” 

Bianca looked down at her hands for a moment, then spoke again, almost shyly, to say, “I, um…I saved you a dress.” 

“Shut up, you did not,” Courtney said. It was possible that Bianca was just kidding around, of course, but she seemed to be serious. How thrilling would it be if she was? “Did you really?” Off Bianca’s decisive nod, she asked, “Which one?”

A coy smile pulled slightly at the corner of Bianca’s lips. “Which one would you have wanted?” 

“I mean, all of them! Are you kidding?” Courtney said. “I’d be honored to wear any of them.” 

“Okay, but…anything you liked more than the others? That really spoke to you?” There was a glimmer in her eye, a spark of her usual mischievousness back, and in spite of herself, Courtney felt it doing something to her, waking up that part of herself that could never resist. 

“Well…I suppose there was one that-” 

“Aha!” Bianca’s eyes lit up. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll pull up a photo of the dress I saved, and you describe the one you’re thinking of. And if it’s the same one, great. And if it’s not…then, you can still have the one I picked, and I’ll make you a replica of the one you liked more. Win-win.” 

Courtney narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What’s the catch?” 

“No catch! I’m just trying to be nice, for once.” Bianca grinned, flashing her dimples, her voice cajoling, “Come on…”

“Okay, fine, fine...” 

Bianca laughed, picking up her phone and scrolling quickly through her photos. “You’re welcome to look up a reference photo too, if you want.”

“I don’t need to.” Courtney took a sip of her iced coffee. 

“Mmm…” Bianca smiled to herself, continuing to scroll. “Got it.”

She placed her phone face down and then folded her hands, looking into Courtney’s eyes and gesturing for her to proceed. Courtney hated to admit how easily she was going along for the ride, but here she was, obeying without another thought. 

“Okay. So, it wasn’t your big show-stopping finale dress or anything. Although I did love that one,” Courtney began, remembering more and more about the dress as she spoke, the way a dream unfurls in your memory the more you talk about it. “It wasn’t even a style I wear that often. It was a cocktail dress, kind of classic Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly style silhouette, off the shoulder, cap sleeves. A tea-length skirt made of layers of hand-painted, sheer fabric. The way it moved was absolutely breathtaking. Then there was a beaded bodice that was so beautiful, so intricate, these swirling blues and yellows with some touches of black and gold around a crescent moon. The colors reminded me of Van Gough’s ‘Starry Night.’ And I’ve always just loved that painting so much…”  

As Courtney’s description trailed off, Bianca flipped over her phone and slid it over, her face dominated by a smug grin. It only took the briefest glance to see that she’d been describing the dress on the screen. 

“No way...” Had she really zeroed in on the exact dress Bianca selected for her? That seemed like an insane coincidence. 

“You think I could ever forget how you went on and on about that painting the time we saw that documentary at The Hammer? And how you wouldn’t stop saying ‘Van Goghhh.’” Bianca exaggerated the Dutch ‘gh’ sound as if she was hacking up a hairball. 

“That’s the correct way to pronounce his name,” Courtney laughed, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Whatever, you sounded pretentious as hell,” Bianca said, grinning. “So…yeah. Of course you have to have that dress.” 

Courtney picked up the phone to look closer, noticing some detailing that she’d missed before, when it was in motion on the runway. 

“Is there embroidery on the skirt?” she marveled. 

“Yeah, on the top layer,” Bianca said. 

“It’s incredible…” Courtney said, zooming in even more to examine the stunning, intricate work. 

“Thanks. Not sure how Van Gogh would feel about the AB stones, but I like to think he’d be cool with the embroidery.” 

“Definitely. I can’t believe I’m going to be seeing it in person,” Courtney said. “Although I’m not sure when I would possibly have an opportunity to wear a dress like this.” 

“I don’t know…the Met Gala?” Bianca suggested.

“You think I get invited to the Met Gala?!” Courtney exclaimed, laughing. Bianca obviously had a very warped impression of what her life was like. 

“Okay, the Oscars then,” Bianca said. 

“Guess again.” 

“Emmys?” 

“Nope.” Courtney shook her head once more. 

“Come on! Creative Arts Emmys. For sure,” she insisted. “You’ve won those.” 

Courtney was a little surprised that Bianca even knew that—probably because the kids had told her, or some news item she’d read in passing. She didn’t linger on thoughts about it though, instead explaining, “That’s a day event. This isn’t a daytime dress.” 

“Hmmm…alright, what about Trader Joe’s, next time you’re buying quinoa?” Bianca asked, then held up her hand. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot, you’re rich now. I obviously meant Whole Foods.” 

“You think I can afford the mortgage, property taxes, and Whole Foods? I have money, but not Oprah money,” Courtney said, winking. 

Bianca laughed, shaking her head. “Fine, Trader Joe’s it is. Costco, if you really wanna save.”

“Ooh, the valley? Dirty.”  

Bianca laughed, her dimples deep in her cheeks, brown eyes shining, and Courtney realized she’d been totally charmed, despite her best efforts to the contrary. 

She lowered her eyes demurely and swiped through a few more pictures. “You know, I’m a little disappointed,” she said, “Because I really thought I was gonna get two dresses out of this deal.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, I mean, this blue one with the open back…” she held up the phone, sighing wistfully, lashes fluttering.

“Tell you what,” Bianca said, still grinning. “I’ll talk to the designer for you.” 

“Tell her I’m a big fan,” Courtney teased, sliding the phone back towards Bianca. 

“Will do,” Bianca chuckled, giving her a wink.  

Courtney giggled along, but her smile faltered a little when she caught sight of her notebook, lying on the table. “So, um…I assume that isn’t the real reason you wanted to talk.” She gestured to Bianca’s phone. 

“No.”

Bianca’s laughter faded as she picked it up, slipping it into the inside pocket of her blazer. She was probably hot in that thing. There was a long, awkward pause, as she cleared her throat, looking deeply uncomfortable. 

Courtney folded her hands, waiting, trying not to rush her. She obviously had something to say, and needed to work up to it. It wasn’t like her to be nervous, or to have a hard time speaking her mind, so this was surely something difficult. 

“Okay…” she finally began. “I guess…I should start with an apology…"

[bloodiedrunner]

𝐶 𝐻 𝐴 𝑅 𝐴 𝐶 𝑇 𝐸 𝑅 𝑆 𝑇 𝑈 𝐷 𝑌

𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑇𝑆 & 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐼𝐶𝑆

BOLD all that applies to your muse.

• EYES: blue | green | brown | hazel | gray | gray-blue | heterochromatic | other

• HAIR: blonde | sandy | brown | black | auburn | ginger | grey / white | multi-color | other

• BODY TYPE: skinny | slender | slim | built | curvy | athletic | average | muscular | pudgy | overweight

• SKIN: pale | light | fair | freckled | tan | olive | medium | dark | discoloured | other

• GENDER: male | female | trans | cis | agender | nonbinary | demi gender | genderfluid | other | doesn’t like labels

• SEXUALITY: heterosexual | homosexual | bisexual | pansexual | asexual | demisexual | other | doesn’t like labels

• ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: homoromantic | heteroromantic | biromantic | panromantic | aromantic | demiromantic | unsure | doesn’t like labels | polyamorous

• SPECIES: human | undead | shapeshifter | demon | angel | witch | ghost | incubus / succubus | werewolf | alien | mutant | android | elf | unknown | other

• EDUCATION: high school | college | university | master’s degree | PhD | other

• I’VE BEEN: in love | hurt | ill | mentally abused | bullied | physically abused | tortured | brainwashed | shot | burnt

• POSITIVE TRAITS: affectionate | adventurous | athletic | brave | charming | confident | creative | cunning | determined | forgiving | generous | honest | humorous | intelligent | loyal | patient | selfless | polite | down-to-earth | diligent | romantic | moral | fun-loving | charismatic | calm

• NEGATIVE TRAITS: aggressive | bossy | cynical | stubborn | envious | shy | fearful | greedy | gullible | jealous | impatient | impulsive | cocky | reckless | insecure | irresponsible | mistrustful | paranoid | possessive | sarcastic | self-conscious | selfish | unstable | clumsy | rebellious | territorial | emotional | vengeful | anxious | self-sabotaging | moody | peevish | angry | pessimistic | slacker | thin-skinned | overly dramatic | argumentative | overly protective

• LIVING SITUATION: lives at sea | lives with parents / guardian | lives with significant other | lives with a friend | drifter | homeless | lives with children

• PARENTS/GUARDIAN: mother | father | grandmother | grandfather

• SIBLING(S): sister | brother | none

Tagged by @nervousleaderr :)

I tag @feral-fuqboi-danny !

[obsidianarchives]

BGC Recommends: Black Magical Reads

Black Wizard History Month may be a celebration of the Black magical people in the Harry Potter universe, but there are plenty of stories written by and about Black magical protagonists. If you’re looking for books about Black kids living in magical worlds and/or with magic of their own, check out this shortlist of recommendations pulled together by the BGC team!

The Belles, Dhonielle Clayton

The Belles is a fantasy story that follows Camellia Beauregard, a Belle — one of few who control beauty in the world of Orleans. In her quest to become the favorite of the royal family, Camille learns that for all of its obsession with beauty, Orleans has a sinister underside that threatens not only her but the people she loves. This book interrogates the concept of what is beautiful, who gets to decide beauty, and who gets to control beauty, with an original magic system set among a lush and descriptive backdrop.

The Legacy of Orïsha series, Tomi Adeyemi

The Legacy of Orïsha series follows diviner Zélie Adebola on a journey to restore peace and liberate the maji of Orïsha after a chance encounter with a mysterious runaway, who turns out to be Amari, the princess of Orïsha. In their quest to restore balance in the world and exact justice, Zélie instead throws the very structures of magic and identity into chaos. The first two books in the series, Children of Blood and Bone and Children of Virtue and Vengeance, inspect systems of oppression outside of a western colonial lens, the dangers and pitfalls of power, and the importance of cultural knowledge all while celebrating the beauty and power of Blackness.

A Phoenix First Must Burn, Patrice Caldwell, et al.

Looking for a bunch of Black Girl Magic in one concentrated dose? That's exactly what you find in this anthology of 16 fictional stories by as many Black authors. From the vampire/Hollywood star Black girl romance you didn't know you needed (“The Actress” by Danielle Paige) to an over-qualified magic apprentice conversing with mermaids (“Melie” by Justina Ireland), your magical wish is this book's command. Super powers? (“All the Time in the World” by Charlotte Nicole Davis) ✅ Neuro-atypical loner meets mysterious — and magical — queer romance? (“Letting the Right One In” by Patrice Caldwell) ✅ Magical elder hidden in plain sight? (“Tender-Headed” by Danny Lore) ✅✅ 

Are you a Phoenix yet?

A Blade So Black, L.L. McKinney

Often called Alice in Wonderland meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer, A Blade so Black follows Alice as she fights monsters between Wonderland and Atlanta, juggling school with training in magic weapons and psycho killer queens. The story includes the very real threat of police violence in the real world, and how that affects people, especially Black mothers who don’t know their daughters have magic powers to defeat evil. There are great twists on Alice in Wonderland characters (Addison Hatta, get it?) and the cover is gorgeous. 

How Long 'til Black Future Month?, N.K. Jemisin

There are many stories of magic and science-fiction in this short story collection by N.K. Jemisin, but some favorites with magical characters include: “Red Dirt Witch,” which features a battle between an older Black magic practitioner and a white fae who comes after her kids in the Jim Crow South. “The City Born Great” — a sort of prequel short to Jemisin’s upcoming novel, The City We Became — stars a homeless queer Black man who must fight a being older than anything (Cthulhu-style, and which may be the cause of gentrification) and reclaim New York City for it’s more marginalized inhabitants. “L’Alchemista” is about a Black chef who is visited by a strange visitor who leaves her some curious ingredients and challenges her to make what he says. The whole collection is great, and even the sci-fi stories have Jemisin’s particular magical talent of fantastic writing.

Daughters of Nri, Remi K. Amayo

Twin sisters separated at birth can be pretty cliché, but Daughters of Nri takes this trope and makes it passion. In this story, Naala and Sinai begin on completely different paths — Naala, to become wife of her village chief's son and Sinai, keeping her head down in the palace courtier system to avoid bullies. Through some pretty lethal stakes (loved ones murdered by a tyrannical leader) and challenges (powers manifesting for the first time) we see each girl using her haters as motivators to a satisfying victory in the end of the book. Almost too satisfying… Suffice to say this is a series to keep an eye on.

A River of Royal Blood, Amanda Joy

While the title alone could win an award for its drama, A River of Royal Blood aptly describes the protagonist's, Eva, magical ability and the blood letting it requires as well as some major plot points in the book. As a princess and younger sister of a land where only one princess can survive to adulthood, Eva is already short of luck. Add in her mother's preference for her older sister based on bias against her blood magic abilities alone, and Eva is almost a guaranteed failure. Luckily, she befriends some boss magical Black fae and others who help her stand a fighting chance. Come for the drama, stay for the multi-magical species historical mystery that unfolds. 

[iceagecame]

Ciao, cosa pensi delle due stagioni del Doctor Who donna? Personalmente non ho pregiudizi, ma le spalle non mi sono mai piaciute e, per quanto si trattino argomenti profondi, anche la sceneggiatura non mi fa impazzire. Capaldi l'ho amato. Sono interessato alla tua recensione. Ciao e Grazie.

Woah! Esistono ancora i messaggi vecchio stile? È c’è addirittura gente che li usa!? Complimenti!

Risponderò attraverso questo ponte di Einstein-Rosen pubblicamente, spero non sia un problema (per il continuum spazio-temporale).

Non ne penso nulla. Nel senso che riguardo la prima stagione — come mi pare dissi a @masuoka per vie private, visto che mi sa che già non ero più qua — ho un’opinione riassumibile con la seguente gif:

Un enorme MEH da imputare soprattutto a Chibnall, famoso per aver avuto idee geniali come Life on Mars e Torchwood (degenerate entrambe in una roba di una noiosità e prevedibilità irritanti) e aver svaccato la sua migliore creazione Broadchurch (che già era appesantita da una regia degna di un documentario sul cemento che si asciuga) con delle stagioni successive alla prima più che inutili, irritanti per i contenuti (cioè la prima stagione è perfetta così, un sequel sarebbe un crimine, ma capisco che bisogna dare al pubblico quello che vuole e mungere quell’interesse a scapito anche della compiutezza artistica del non finito (che comunque, dài, era finito in maniera perfetta), però cazzo, non puoi scrivere quella ciofeca): io mi sono rifiutato di guardare oltre il 5° minuto del secondo episodio della seconda stagione. (Tra l’altro la regia era affidata all’acclamato regista de “Vinavil vs Bostik” e del pluripremiato “Painting in bullet time” con Bob Ross).

Pensavo, all’epoca — cos’erano? due anni fa? boh —che va bene la novità del Dottore femminile, va bene i multi companion, ognuno con i suoi pregi e i suoi difetti, ognuno utile al momento giusto, che fa tanto The Lost Vikings

[momento amarcord]

però la scrittura degli episodi faceva piuttosto cagare, roba che manco RT Davies nei momenti più caciaroni [è un termine tecnico] si era spinto a fare, sprecando anche delle buone idee e delle occasioni per fare il salto di qualità (i due episodi migliori, Rosa e Demons of the Punjab, completamente svaccati da terzi atti patetici). Credo che finanche @microlina​ avesse iniziato a rimpiangere Moffat. Per dire, eh.

Tuttavia mi sembrava giusto dare tempo a Jodie, a Chibnall e agli altri tempo di assestarsi, di trovare un equilibrio (anche Capaldi ci ha messo una stagione a carburare) e quindi ho atteso Spyfall, che ho guardato in una botta sola dopo la seconda parte riuscendo ad evitare agilmente gli spoiler (non stando più qua non era difficile).

Dopo un lunghissimo iato, nel quale hanno tutti avuto modo di riflettere sulle molteplici e anche autorevoli critiche costruttive che avevano ricevuto, tempo che hanno sicuramente dedicato ad un’attenta scrittura, alla messa a punto di una stagione entusiasmante, l’impressione che mi ha lasciato il doppio episodio iniziale — scelta coraggiosa e impegnativa, prodotto senza badare a spese, tra l’altro — è stata tale che non ho ancora guardato il terzo episodio della stagione.

No, davvero: mi sto rompendo in maniera biblica i coglioni in questa quarantena, ma ogni volta (è successo due o tre volte) che penso a scaricarmi gli episodi il mio cervello guarda l’idea in questo modo

Davvero.

Se lo scopo e prendere a picconate il lavoro di Moffat (in tutti i sensi, anche qualitativo) 

e non lo dico da Moffat fanboy, ma come affezionato spettatore della serie: perché andare indietro invece di andare avanti? Anzi: perché tornare indietro e fare danni al canone con la scusa che si sta andando avanti?

Così sono sceso dal treno.

Sono rimasto blandamente al corrente dei danni fatti nelle puntate successive (seguo gli account ufficiali su Twitter) e ho letto degli articoli di commento per esempio su Gizmodo, e quindi la mia impressione dopo Spyfall è stata confermata.

E quindi boh. 

Onestamente non posso esprimere un giudizio, né recensire perché non l’ho vista. Ma l’idea di guardare questa dodicesima stagione di DW mi attrae quanto il concetto che esista una terza stagione di Broadchurch.

Immagino che a suo modo sia una specie di recensione/opinione anche questa. Non sia però vista come un processo alle intenzioni o al genere dell’interprete del protagonista.

Grazie per la domanda e buon weekend domestico, spero che dalla telescrivente si veda anche questa simpatica gif di saluto:

[darks-ink]

Play Your Part - 1

Chapter 1: Where The Strong Survive

[cover]

Here's my new multi-chapter, Play Your Part! Currently planned to be 6 chapters, and somewhere around 20.000 words, I'm guessing? Depends on how long the chapters will be, of course.

Anyway, this fic is based on @cordria‘s A World Tipped on its Head, and this first chapter especially draws pretty strongly from that one-shot. From what I've seen it seems normal that people just copy-paste the original as their first chapter but tbh I don't like that much because the styles are usually way different. Also I wanted to tweak some details so. I hope that that's not, like, rude or anything!

As always, weekly updates go up every Saturday! I might change it for the last 2 chapters or so because I want to start posting Weirdward on the 31st but I'll see how I solve that when we get there.

[first] [previous][next] [AO3] [FFnet]

Danny rushed down the street, his eyes cast downwards and his breath loud and raspy even to his own ears. The pavement sped by underneath his feet. It wasn’t fast enough.

“Stupid alarm clock,” he muttered under his breath. Pushed himself just that little quicker. He might not like school, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to be late.

“Need a lift?”

The unexpected voice made him flinch, although he did his best to hide it. Instead he glanced over his shoulder, watching Sam melt into view. She was in her ghost form, her hair white and flickering and her eyes a vivid cyan. Bright, glowing, and sparkling with dark humor.

“No,” he grunted, trying to ignore his tired legs to pick up the pace even further. Somewhere he was glad that it was Sam who found him and not Tucker. No matter how well meaning the boy was, the last thing Danny wanted was to be picked up and flown to school against his will.

She blinked at him for moment, and in the time it took for her to process this, he got a few dozen feet ahead. Then she nodded and drifted down to the ground.

Bright ectoplasmic energy whirled around her. White hair sunk down under the effect of gravity, dyed black once more. Cyan eyes darkened back to violet, and white clothes shifted back to black.

Sam ran a hand through her hair, straightened her clothes, and then sprinted to catch up with him again.

“You’re gonna be late,” Danny panted, suppressing a grin as she joined him.

“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “I can outrun you any day of the week.”

He rolled his eyes, fighting down the retort that came automatically. If she chose to run with him and be late as well, well… who was he to argue? Instead he sent her a lopsided grin, determined to at least keep up with her.

Skidding to a crashing halt in front of his locker, Danny started whirling the combination lock, rushing to get to class in time. The bell rung, however, signaling that he was officially late for his first class.

He jumped in surprise at the loud noise, losing track of how many turns he had taken to unlock his locker. Sam, who could simply use her intangibility to get her stuff, already had her books.

She drifted back across the hallway, her signature scowl back on her face. She then slumped against the lockers next to him.

“We’re late,” she said unnecessarily.

“I got that,” he answered her through gritted teeth. He tried to focus on unlocking his lock, frustrated that he had had to start over.

“Mr. Fenton! Miss Manson!”

This second unexpected voice had the same effect as the first; Danny started so badly that he almost levitated. He spun around, searching for the origin of the voice.

The hallway appeared empty, however. Completely vacated. Danny knew it wasn’t, though. Mr. Lancer, the half-ghost vice-principal, had to be floating invisibly somewhere in it.

He fixed his eyes on the spot he guessed Mr. Lancer would be in. He had no way of knowing, and he really didn’t care except that he had gotten caught by his least favorite teacher once again. It would certainly mean another detention.

The overweight teacher appeared mere moments later. Hands propped against his hips and his eyes blazing a bright red. “Late for school again!” he scoffed, pulling out a small notebook to write their names down. “I expected better from you, Miss Manson.”

“I felt like running,” Sam muttered back. Her arms were still crossed, her body slumped against the lockers.

“Such potential in you.” Lancer shook his head, clearly disappointed, as he finished jotting down their names. “It never fails to surprise me that a child from parents like yours doesn’t flourish in a modern school setting.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, bright cyan sparking in the darker violet. She’d never been particularly fond of authority figures, and Mr. Lancer’s tendency to compare her to her parents had put him in her bad graces.

Danny, while he heartily agreed with her, remained quiet. He just watched as the teacher took his eyes off of the book, fixing Sam with a glare of his own. He had no intention to get involved, no matter how much it hurt him in his soul to let the others walk all over him.

He wasn’t half-ghost. He didn’t stand a chance against them. And so he had no intention to jump into a situation that could get him killed.

Because, while Sam was normally very considerate of the difference in power between them, she was too riled up now. She could kill him and not even realize until it was too late.

In the end, Mr. Lancer broke the staring contest first. His gaze wandered over to Danny. “And you, Mr. Fenton. Although I’m not sure what to expect out of a mere human,” he paused for a moment, making it clear how dirty of a word he found it, “I still expect you to be at school on time. Detention for you, and I hope you learn your place in our world someday. Miss Manson, get to class.”

The teacher faded back into invisibility, and Danny took a deep steadying breath. Noticed that his hands were clenched into fists, and wondered when that’d happened.

He hated that he got more detentions that anyone else in the school. It was, without a doubt in his mind, because he was the only human in the school. It might be against the law to discriminate based on age, race, gender… but species wasn’t on the list.

“Fantastic,” he muttered, loosening his fists again. Turned back to his locker, even though he needed a few moments more before attempting to unlock it again.

“Come on, Danny,” Sam said after a moment. Her voice was still tense, and cyan still danced in her eyes. “Let’s get to class before you get into trouble again.”

The emphasis on the ‘you’ didn’t go past him. And while her half-smile and elbow nudge suggested that she had meant it playfully, it just felt like a sour reminder to him.

“What’s on the list of torture for today?” he asked, trying to get his mind off of that topic again. There was no point, anyway. There was nothing he could do to change things. Instead he set about to make his third attempt at unlocking his locker.

“Twenty new reasons to stare at the sole human on the planet, either in distraught pity or in discriminatory frustrated anger.” Her smile was halfhearted but understanding. “Also known as another biased English lesson on the twenty greatest halfa authors of all time, making doubly sure to ignore and/or taunt the human greats such as Shakespeare, Melville, and Doyle.”

Danny sighed gustily as his locker finally opened. “Great.”

“You gonna skip again? I’m sure Tucker will record the whole lesson for you to watch later.”

“Nah.” He shook his head, grabbing the books from his locker. “Ever since Lancer figured out how to duplicate, you can’t hide from him. He can be teaching his lesson and hunting you down at the same time. Skulker’s got nothing on him. Skipping is just too much work now.”

“To class, then?”

He hesitated one last second. Then he slammed his locker shut and nodded. “To class.”

“… and that is the main reason why Arthur Prachet far surpassed his human counterpart during that era. Also a major player in the rise of Prachet’s work was the fact that Shakespeare’s answer to Prachet’s novel rhyme-scheme, the insufficiently thought-out and frankly annoying iambic pentameter, never seemed to catch on. The fact that only two of the human’s works survive to this day is surely a testament to how dreary and drawn-out the human culture had gotten by that point in history.”

Danny tuned out the teacher, only looking away briefly to add another tally to the top of his paper – the forty-eighth of that day. Having finished this task, he fixed his eyes back on the whiteboard behind the teacher. He wouldn’t get scolded for not paying attention, anyway; this particular teacher in fact seemed to prefer it if Danny did absolutely nothing.

And, well. Danny was glad for a chance to not write down every detail of the lesson. As a result, his English notebook was full of blank pages, marred only by the tally marks at the top of every page.

When the teacher managed to slip in another slur against the human species, Danny shifted and added another tally to his page. Wondered, quietly, how many more the halfa could fit in a single lesson. So far the record had been fifty-three, but with almost 15 minutes left, it didn’t look too good for the record.

He let his eyes drift towards the windows, letting himself sink deeper into his thoughts. ‘Really’, he thought bitterly, ‘everyone in my family is half-ghost. Doesn’t that mean that I am one too, kind of? Even if I don’t have any powers, that doesn’t make me human, right?’

Even in his own mind, the word ‘human’ had sounded like a dirty insult. The word had been so deeply drenched by negative connotations that, even in the comfort of his own thoughts, it sounded vile.

With a huff, he picked up his stream of thoughts again. ‘I mean. If two dogs have a puppy that looks like a kitten, it’s still a dog, no matter what it looks like or can do. I just wish…’

A ball of paper hit him in the head, and Danny jerked up. Send a glare at the offending piece of paper, absentmindedly adding another tally to his paper – the teacher had surely gotten in another insult while Danny had been distracted, just because he was in the room.

He unwrinkled the paper, quickly reading the scrawled words – Betcha wish you coulda phased through that – and scowled. He raised his head to fix Dash – the obvious sender – with said scowl, pointless as it was. Without the glowing eyes a halfa would sport, he simply couldn’t hope to reach the same level of intimidation.

Still, like it wasn’t bad enough that he had to listen to teacher drone on and on about the brilliance of half-ghosts and their powers, his fellow students had to add to whole thing. Like he had chosen to be the only pure human on the whole damn planet!

Dash just grinned back, flashing his eyes a menacing red. He ripped another piece of paper out of his notebook, scribbled a message, and balled it up. Then he lobbed it through the air, forcing Danny to make the difficult choice of what to do with it.

On one hand, he could catch it and find out what Dash had threatened him with. On the other, he could bat it off into a corner and ignore it for forever.

In the end he didn’t have to pick. A ball of cyan light intercepted it before it reached him, disintegrating the paper into ashes and dust.

“Hey!” Dash called out. His eyes turned red fully as they darted around, looking for the creator of the ectoblast.

Both Dash and Danny found her simultaneously – not that it was hard. Sam lounged in the back of the class, her eyes still bright and sparks of matching cyan still writhing around her hand.

“You stupid--”

“No energy manipulation in this classroom!” the teacher shouted, interrupting the incoming fight. Then, unbelievably, he followed it up with, “Fenton, detention!”

Danny’s head whipped around. “What for?!”

“Stop instigating my class.” Lancer flared his eyes red, warning.

“But--”

Danny bit his tongue, cutting off the retort. It made no sense, but he couldn’t win this confrontation.

It wasn’t fast enough, though. Red energy sparkled around the furious half-ghost teacher, as bright as his eyes.

Having no desire to get into this fight, Danny slunk out of his seat and beat a quick retreat from the room before the situation got worse. Sure, the teacher probably wouldn’t actually attack him, but, well. Everyone knew that sometimes it was hard to control ghost powers, especially if you’re angry.

And the last thing Danny wanted was to get evaporated over something so stupid. So ordinary.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel a brief pang of disappointment. The record for number of human slurs spoken in a single class would remain unbroken.

“Danny, sweetie,” his mom said when he finally came home from yet another day in hell – sorry, school – as she pushed her goggles up on her forehead, “it’s not your fault. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Danny groaned, dropping into a chair in his parents’ basement lab. “Tell that to the teachers and the other students.”

“You’ll get your powers eventually, honey.” She smiled at him. “Slow development runs in your father’s side of the family, you know. Jack didn’t get his powers until he was eleven…”

“I’m fifteen.” A scowl found its way to his face once more.

“Which isn’t unheard of,” she lied smoothly. “You’re a Fenton.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You come from a long line of powerful half-ghosts. Before you know it, you’ll wake up and you’ll be just like your great-grandfather, the--”

“--great halfa explorer who helped conquer the new world from the human barbarians,” Danny finished dully. They had had this exact conversation dozens of times, and he had practically memorized it by now. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might never get ghost powers?”

She blinked at him. “Of course you’ll get your powers. You just need to think positively.”

“Yeah, sure.” He shrugged, figuring he might as well go along. His parents were both stubborn to no end; if they wanted to believe that he would still get ghost powers, there was nothing he could do to change their minds.

“In the meantime, look at this.” Her aura brightened slightly as she picked up her latest device. “It’s called the ‘Fenton Human Hearer’.”

It was placed in Danny’s hands, a grin on her face. “Jack and I know that there are pockets of humans left in this world. If we ever find one, this will turn their incomprehensible mutterings into something we can understand!”

Danny raised a skeptical eyebrow, eyes on her instead of the invention. “Don’t they speak English?”

A whir from the machine. Then, “Don’t they speak English? Fear me.”

Now he dropped his eyes to the gadget. From the corner of his eyes, he saw his mom do the same. Maddie shrugged, then plucked it out of his hands. “I’ve never met a true human. I wouldn’t know.”

“I don’t count?” he asked, not sure how he felt about the implication. Was it because he was better than a human, or just because she refused to concern the possibility?

“You’ll get your powers,” she said with conviction. “You’re a halfa – a Fenton.”

He nodded quietly, his unasked question thus answered. She still believed that he would get his powers, even if he was years and years past even the latest of late bloomers.

It didn’t make sense to him. Why keep denying it? Somehow, against all reason and expectations, he wasn’t a half-ghost. He hadn’t inherited any of his parents’ powers, not even a shred of their ectoplasmic sides.

Consumed by these thoughts, he silently watched his mom tidy her side of the lab. His parents were constantly working on all kinds of inventions, and thus new pieces of technology appeared and disappeared on a daily basis in the cramped basement. Most remained unpopular, however; his parents’ obsession with humans made their inventions largely useless to the rest of their half-ghost society.

Maddie paused in her work, picking up a small, strange-looking necklace. She studied it for a moment, a crease in her brow. “Where did…” She shook her head. “I wish Jack would tell me when he gets new things. Danny, can you put this on Jack’s workbench for me?”

Nodding, he slipped out the chair again. Took the necklace from her hands, turning to head towards the messier side of the lab.

But, just as her fingers slipped from the chain, a surge of energy flooded throughout the lab. It was powerful enough for even Danny to feel it, the hum of pure power in the air.

He saw his mom twist around, her eyes widening in surprise and fear, glowing vivid chartreuse. Similarly colored ectoplasm formed around her hands, as if to fight this unseen enemy.

It was the last thing Danny saw before blindingly white light wrapped around him. He screamed in terror, feeling the energy ripping at his body, and could do nothing but clutch the strange necklace to his chest.

Then, blissfully, he passed out.

[phantomphangphucker]

The Bindings Of Time - Chapter 2. The Sands Of Time Embodied - PhannieMay - Day 11 Redesign and Day 22 Memories

Summary: Danny’s got some changes to make

(Multi-chapter fic, each chapter falls under the Memories prompt as well as another day’s prompt)

-return to the present-

Maddie’s returned home while Danny’s been lost in thought, she can tell too as he rubs at the little purple pinky ring he’s started wearing. Danny jerks his head up as he picks up on her presence and quickly chases down his melancholic expression. “You’re home early”.

“Sweetie, it’s five p.m.”, Danny turns his head to clock muttering, “Oh”. As Maddie walks over and ruffles up his hair, “you’re not ok, why? Can I help?”. Danny’s still not really up for explaining to anyone really. But his parents especially, they might have accepted Phantom and him being Phantom but they know nothing about ClockWork or that he was even close with any ghosts. He knows they don’t see him the same as other ghosts and that they view him as more of a hunter, like them, instead of socialising and protecting what’s his, like ghosts do. He still appreciates her concern though, “not really”, pausing for a bit with a little smirk, “it’s more of a time thing”. He knows Jazz would lecture him about using jokes as a coping mechanism but Danny thinks he’s damn well deserved it. Plus jokes are really a knee jerk reaction for him. “If you’re sure”, she continues talking after sitting down next to Danny, “you can talk to us, you know. I know your life is different and you deal with things I could have never imagined, but still. You’ve got us in your corner no matter what it is or what you need”. Danny can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed as she kisses his hair before going to make supper. Danny can hear her come back out but she stops walking, waiting a beat before asking, “is there a reason you have a beat up thermos sitting on the table? You don’t usually leave them lying around”. Glaring at the thermos a bit before tilting his head backwards to her, “figuring out what to do with it. And before you ask, it’s not why I’m bummed out”. Pulling his head back forwards, he pokes the thermos cautiously, “in its confines is a powerful and very dangerous ghost. One whom I have full responsibility over now”. Maddie hands him a plate of crackers and a bowl of soup before glancing at the thermos warily, “well first, maybe put them in a thermos that doesn’t look partly destroyed. Second, why would you be responsible for a specific ghost? I know you view the ghost problem as your responsibility but this seems different”. Danny’s glad both his parents have stopped calling ghosts “it”, he was a bit surprised to find that it’s both because he’s part ghost and because their views have actually changed. Sighing, “he was another ghosts responsibility before, but he can’t do it anymore. And it’s my job now to do it”, continuing after shaking his head a little, “and transferring him into another thermos is too risky. He cannot be let out for any reason, ever”. Danny can’t know for sure but his gut says he’s right and he’s got a damn good gut. “So you have to make sure he stays in there? That’s this “job”? That seems a little extreme for any ghost and who are even giving you a “job”?”, Maddie frowns worriedly, “and why can’t this other person do it anymore? Is this dangerous?”. Danny can’t blame her for being worried, pretty much everything he does is dangerous and she wants him safe. “Keep him sealed away yeah, but also to deal with him if he escapes. The rest is complicated”, turning to his mom, “but trust me when I say this isn’t extreme, not for him. If any ghost is deserving of the titles “monster” and “evil”, it’s this one”. Pointing a soup-soaked cracker aggressively at the thermos, “jerk”. Maddie’s words don’t really match the mild humour previously in Danny’s voice, “sounds like you’ve dealt with him before and I really don’t like the sounds of that”. Danny eyes his mom before sighing, “yes and I guess he’s someone I really should tell you about. But it’s all tied to why I’m “not ok” as you put it. Because of who used to be responsible for him and why he’s mine now”. Danny’s sure his mom has jumped to some conclusion, normally he’d guess it was likely the right one, but he knows it’s not. As Danny rubs at the gear tattoo on his left collar bone getting lost in thought again.

—two days ago—

Danny can’t say he’s surprised when his ghost sense goes off and he can tell it’s an Observant, sighing and sitting up as the ghost floats up through his floor, “I’m surprised you didn’t come sooner. Maybe you understand human mourning more than you seem”. Danny’s not about to give them too much credit, he knows it wasn’t out of care for him; rather they just wanted to time things effectively. Clearly the Observant can tell Danny knows that, “the time wasn’t previously favourable, as you likely know. You are being summoned to the clock tower, we do not doubt that you know why”. The Observant is of course right, that’s likely the whole reason one gave him the new time medallion. Apprentice becomes the master sort of thing. Though he hadn’t really expected ClockWork to ever fade, being outside of time and all. “Of course”, smirking a bit before he continues, “you’ve said your peace, now care to observe the door”. Like always he can feel the Observant glaring at him before leaving, ClockWork nearly always dismissed them like that, as did Danny; no way he was ever going to stop either. Even if the words felt bittersweet now and it hurt knowing no one else was going to say them anymore. Getting up with a groan before walking downstairs, “Danny, it’s almost midnight. If there’s a ghost issue then just tell me and go back to bed”. Danny curses himself a bit for not being ok enough to have the for-thought for invisibility. Rubbing his neck awkwardly, “I’ve got to make a Zone trip, and no you can’t really help. Sorry?”. Danny knows his mom’s not really comfortable with him going into the Zone and he’s sure she’d probably try to stop him, if that were actually possible to do. Maddie’s frowning gives away that displeasure, “And it can’t wait? At least take the Speeder then”. Danny shakes his head and stops walking just in front of the lab door, turning his head to her, “this doesn’t call for that. The opposite actually, I’ll be back”. Danny’s not sure if she hears him mutter as he walks down, “eventually”. It doesn’t take him long to get to the clock tower, he knows the route exceptionally well. Really he knows the whole Zone well, though his parents don’t really understand that yet. Putting his hand mournfully on the door and rubbing it before pushing it open. Walking inside he’s a bit startled as the floor and everything else starts changing colours, in a manner similar to rippling waves as soon as his feet touch the floor. Walking forwards and spinning around a little, taking in the blacks, whites, blues and greens. The place is still heavily dark and atmospheric, with an old dusty book feel and smell. But it also somehow feels more lively, sliding his foot across the white with black veining floor, “should have seen that coming. I’m surprised it still feels like the same clock tower”. Danny promptly schools his expression as he knows at least two Observants just showed up. Fastening his cloak on as they approach, instantly cluing in that they’re the two highest ranking, “things must be actualised of course and it should be no surprise that we believe you to already be too powerful. However”, one of the Observants floats over to Danny and hands him a core fusion crystal, a time one to be specific, “this is not something he would choose unwisely nor to spite us”. Danny takes the crystal gingerly, knowing full well it’s a time one. Rolling it over as the other Observant floats over to where Dan’s thermos is, “as his powers are yours so too are his responsibilities”. Danny wants to glare but he knows full well that’s likely not a good idea, he knows they’re right. Both of them float in front of him now and he can feel their power in the air, “so do you, Danny Phantom, bind yourself to all the confines of time. To be bound to it though free from it. Will you keep guard over the time stream and all those with it. And stand guard against those outside of it, your future evil self and any others who may appear. Do you swear to know the gravity of this roll and that you can ensure, you take this knowing full well you can never relinquish it nor pass it on, due to the nature of your existence”. Thinking back, at first Danny had watched with childish amusement and wonder at all of ClockWork’s viewing screens, portals and all the things he had rein over. But it hadn’t taken long to see the burden of it, especially when it came to seeing and knowing all of the past, present and future constantly. It made it impossible to really be close to anyone and it made it so you knew everyone intimately well, to degrees others would find disturbing. It was a lonely and solitary thing but in a sense, Danny stood separate and alone already. It’s not like Vlad was a true halfa and the chances of there ever being another was pretty well none. He could be close with people, have friends and family, but no one could truly relate and everyone was inherently different. That’s why him and ClockWork got along so well, and that made losing him all the worse. And it’s not like Danny wasn’t already burdened, what’s another burden? Besides, he’s certain even the Observants know, no one else can do this. There is no ghost nor human, or hybrid for that matter, who viewed the two species on equal footing and placed his duties above his own self and desires. Like the role of hero and protector, keeper of time was a self-sacrificial role. Not just in body and mind, but social life as well. Nodding firmly at the two before him, “with absolute resolution I know, accept and bind. Core bared, I will stand objective and solitary in and out of all aspects of time. To keep time above all others and self. Time eternally to hold me and I it. Time eternally to exclude me but I never it”. The two Observants put a hand on either side of Danny’s head, “then with that we bless you keep and forever know all of time, for all of time”. One Observant leaves quickly but the other turns back to Danny, “you have your place here now. Time favours none and neither do you. We will be watching”. Danny smirks lazily, “it’s not like you could stop me, we all know that”, smirking even wider, “time favours plenty, else we’d all die or fade at the same age with the same life experiences. I may have cheated time and death itself, but everyone else is victim to its whim or mine”. Danny hears that Observant mutter as he leaves, “he’s already just as insufferable as ClockWork, if not more so. And he isn’t even omniscient, yet”. Danny knows full well he has to absorb the crystal himself and no way is he going through this around his family. From what he’s heard core fusion was one part pain and one part getting bombarded by new fully fleshed out abilities. Considering how much of an issue his ice core was, this was going to be a trip. Walking to the room he had here, though all of this was his room now. Sticking his head inside and raising his eyebrow at the long object wrapped in purple cloth. Unwrapping it gentility and if this had been in less gloomy times he’d have laughed heartily. Instead only smirking faintly as the head of the staff comes fully into view. Shaking his head as he places it on the pillow, the rest still wrapped. Knowing full well that he really shouldn’t touch it without having an actualised time core. Rolling the core fusion crystal a little as he sits on the bed, pushing the tip into his chest directly where his core is; before promptly bending over and squeezing his arms around his chest from sharp pain. He’s quite glad for his high pain tolerance and the seclusion of the clock tower. Gritting his teeth and whining, far less painful than his half death but definitely the second most painful thing he’s experienced. Involuntarily shaking as little pinpricks of something that feels like how cinnamon tastes but on fire, ripples around his chest. His breath coming out cold and ice forming thinly on his skin from his overactive core as new energy is introduced. Pushing his head into the bedsheets as a waving pulse of blueish purple energy shoots out from him and out across the entirety of the Ghost Zone. In an instant he can see everything, some feel his energies pulse and become confused, others like the Observants nod as they know they’re being watched. Wheezing and putting his hands on his head at the bombardment of sensory input. Promptly passing out as his mind gets halfway through cataloging how every ghost died, in detail.

It’s a full day before Danny wakes up, pitching forwards off the bed and onto the floor. Groaning as he rolls over blinking away the images of the eight other ways he could have reacted upon waking up. “Fuck ClockWork, better warning needed”, patting at his aching chest as he rights himself. Turning his head to the staff still lying innocently and temptingly on the pillows. Staring at it and wondering whether he should do that now or wait, the future doesn’t really seem to care on that one. So with a shrug he elects to unwrap it, chuckling as he normally would have been caught off guard by the little electrical shock of the staff bonding with his energy. Of course, he already knew that would happen, spinning the staff around lightly, “it is incredibly odd instantly knowing how to use literally every single new power, when it took over a year to get my ghost and ice core shit down”. Looking down at his chest and raising an eyebrow, “ice time core? Cold time core? Naw”, snickering, “time freeze core”. Sure it was ice first but the new time powers and “job” took precedence over everything. Plus his ice powers were just another ghostly power to him, but these time powers were a whole nother beast, a completely new aspect of himself. Tapping the staff on the ground and electing to test this out, pushing the button on the top, “time out”. Shaking his head as everything with exactly 28 feet of him just stops, “damn that is so accurate and it’s rather weird this power needs a vessel to channel it out of me, I get it but still”. Chuckling because of course he gets it, he’ll probably “get” everything now. Chuckling more, “it’s going to be impossible not to basically cheat at school, there’s literally nothing they could teach me that I wouldn’t automatically know. I’d just have to conjure up the knowledge”. Tilting his head as he says, “time in”, Danny’s not sure about how he feels more ok and comfortable with ClockWork being gone now. It simultaneously feels like it happen ages ago, today and years from now. Fully able to view his old mentor at any point in time. “Man, if I wanted his advice I could literally just view it”, Danny squints his eyes before facepalming as one of the scenes of past ClockWork, before Danny was even born, is clearly giving him advice, “welcome home, Daniel. I may be a phantom of times past but you’re the phantom of its future. Let your staff aid you well, we both know it will. I’d say not to worry about Dan, but you will. To protect is to worry. But now too must you guide and that spares little room for worry”. Shaking his head, “sneaky bastard, but thanks and I know. Still going to be a general mess of a halfa though”. Turning his head to one of the screens and making it show a reflection of himself, technically it’s not really a reflection just an angled view of the present but still. He already knows his eyes turn purple when using time powers but he literally has to see it now for his just recently past self to know it, “man this is somehow both messed up and seems utterly normal”. It’s easy to be used to something when it feels like you’ve had it forever because you can literally see and know those powers for eons past the current time. Calling another “time out” in front of the mirror just to make the point of seeing his eyes change to purple. He’ll admit it feels like a reminder of ClockWork and he knows the only reason ClockWork’s eyes didn’t change is cause he is, was, a full ghost. Giving himself a better look, the staff's body/neck is vertically pinstriped black and dark grey, with a white sphere at the bottom; easily taller than ClockWork’s. Which only makes sense as he’s quite a bit taller than him. Crowning the top of the staff is a black sideways capital D, making a dome shape. With an upright white capital P the spine of which is stabbing through the D, to connect with the body of the staff. The inside of the P holds a clock with the button resting on top. His outfit itself has changed only a little, there are hourglasses on the backs of his hands filled with black sand with purple sparkle. “Sam’s so gonna bug me about that”, but he’s going to say her exact words as she does just to bug her right back. Plus, as he tilts his hand to move around the sand, purple is ClockWork’s colour; so he’s got a little reminder even if he forgoes the cloak and staff. Next tracing his fingers over the little clocks lining his belt, all showing different times of course. Smirking as he summons a DP time medallion out of one, “convenient and stylish”. There’s no real humour in his words though as he sighs and rubs the gear clasp on his cloak, which is a little bigger, and he knows the cloak is truly part of him now. Though he could technically take it off, just like his jumpsuit. The only other difference in the cloak is that the hood comes to a long point and zig-zags like a lightning bolt. “Well it is a little odd having an actual tell on me of how I died, but I really should have had one already”, talking also makes him notice how his fangs are a bit longer, no doubt due to being more powerful. Checking his ears and yup, the points jut out further. “More ghostly but hey, no fire hair or blue skin”, Danny really means no offence to ClockWork but blue skin is something he’d prefer to avoid ever having. Calling “time in” and sighing as he can see his mom, clearly upset and sitting on his bed, “well it has been a full day”. Floating back into the main area while easily switching to his ghostly tail which wiggles about energetically, sighing a bit at the release of energy, “and no wonder why ClockWork sticks to his tail, it’s like the little release of built-up energy I get from my ghost sense”. At least the time part of his core he uses pretty well automatically just by thinking, so build ups not really a concern. But there’s a lot more of time than ice. Floating to be in front of Dan’s thermos and crossing his arms, knowing full well he can’t leave it here unguarded but otherwise he’s not sure what to do. Dan, and his thermos really, exists outside of time, he literally can’t see his/it’s future. Which is genuinely disturbing and feels so very wrong. “Dear Phantom, I really do feel like I’ve been this way for eternity”, he’s pretty well sure it’ll take longer to get used to this coming naturally to him rather than getting used to what is actually new but doesn’t feel like it is. Picking up the thermos cautiously he elects to go home.

Once home, he knows full well it’ll be a while before either of his parents are back. Having a ghost research meeting to go to in another state. Glaring down at the thermos, not really liking how it and Dan’s energy taints his room. Putting it down on his bed before changing back human, only to be promptly cut off from the complete awareness of well, all of time. “Figures, that'll keep me from coming off as completely weird and the break is nice”, this makes him sigh and feel a bit bad for ClockWork. But he can’t help but smile at his reflection, easily seeing the top of the new little gear tattoo; a mark of time. Pulling his collar down to get a proper look before patting at it gently. He knows he needs to see his chest too, his scar has changed some after all. Danny always found it amusing that his scar is more because of a forming core, a core that’s always there regardless of form, rather than the actual shock of the portal. Lifting the bottom of his shirt up and smirking at the fuzzy and glitchy looking circular white scar. Like a soft reflection of the moon over tightly rippling water. He does find it sad that he’s really the only one who will think of this scar fondly. Tucker and Sam just find it an unpleasant reminder of the accident, which was rather traumatising for everyone really. His parents had only caught glimpses off it but he knows they think it’s smaller then it is and won’t be happy about it when they do finally get a good look at it. Shaking his head and sighing at the thermos, it’s a lot easier to not be bothered by not being able to see its future when his heads not being constantly filled with all of time. Tilting his head as he checks up on time, he’s going to have to make a point to do this frequently while human; because therein lies the downside to this “break”. Time guarding wasn’t really something you can or should take a break from, so much can happen in seconds. Glancing at his phone before heading down to the living room, thermos in tow. He knows his friends are freaking out a bit, he’s been kind of hard to contact since ClockWork’s fading but they know what happened, so they’re giving him space and everything is giving him time. He’ll have a lot to tell them but for now, he’d really rather not. Especially because his human friends don’t really get his affection for ClockWork. End.

[ao3feed-sterek]

The Spark

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2UXjWnG

by sifshadowheart

Stiles tried to say no. In fact he said "no" repeatedly. Unfortunately for him, one Lydia Martin knew just what buttons to push to get him to comply.

Even with something as ridiculous as signing up to be the latest looking-for-love Suitor on a ratings-tanking reality dating show "The Spark."

  This is an A/U where the supernatural is normal and known as well as a/b/o dynamics with the end-game being a closed polyamorous relationship, lots of slash, and implied universe-wide male pregnancy.

Words: 4718, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Sheriff Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Natalie Martin, Ethan (Teen Wolf), Aiden (Teen Wolf), Kali (Teen Wolf), Ennis (Teen Wolf), Vernon Boyd, Victoria Argent, Allison Argent, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Kira Yukimura, Noshiko Yukimura, Ken Yukimura, Theo Raeken, Malia Tate, Tara Graeme, Bobby Finstock, Braeden (Teen Wolf), Corinne | Desert Wolf, Conrad Fenris, Alan Deaton

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Deucalion/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore, Danny Mahealani/Stiles Stilinski, Jordan Parrish/Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski, And Variations Thereof - Relationship

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Alternate Universe - Supernatural is Natural, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Intersexed Characters, Trans Issues in an A/B/O world, Supernatural Elements/Species as Minorities, Polyamory, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Slash

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2UXjWnG

[ao3feed-peterstiles]

The Spark

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2UXjWnG

by sifshadowheart

Stiles tried to say no. In fact he said "no" repeatedly. Unfortunately for him, one Lydia Martin knew just what buttons to push to get him to comply.

Even with something as ridiculous as signing up to be the latest looking-for-love Suitor on a ratings-tanking reality dating show "The Spark."

  This is an A/U where the supernatural is normal and known as well as a/b/o dynamics with the end-game being a closed polyamorous relationship, lots of slash, and implied universe-wide male pregnancy.

Words: 4718, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Sheriff Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Natalie Martin, Ethan (Teen Wolf), Aiden (Teen Wolf), Kali (Teen Wolf), Ennis (Teen Wolf), Vernon Boyd, Victoria Argent, Allison Argent, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Kira Yukimura, Noshiko Yukimura, Ken Yukimura, Theo Raeken, Malia Tate, Tara Graeme, Bobby Finstock, Braeden (Teen Wolf), Corinne | Desert Wolf, Conrad Fenris, Alan Deaton

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Deucalion/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore, Danny Mahealani/Stiles Stilinski, Jordan Parrish/Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski, And Variations Thereof - Relationship

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Alternate Universe - Supernatural is Natural, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Intersexed Characters, Trans Issues in an A/B/O world, Supernatural Elements/Species as Minorities, Polyamory, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Slash

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2UXjWnG

[ao3-sterek]

The Spark

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2UXjWnG

by sifshadowheart

Stiles tried to say no. In fact he said "no" repeatedly. Unfortunately for him, one Lydia Martin knew just what buttons to push to get him to comply.

Even with something as ridiculous as signing up to be the latest looking-for-love Suitor on a ratings-tanking reality dating show "The Spark."

  This is an A/U where the supernatural is normal and known as well as a/b/o dynamics with the end-game being a closed polyamorous relationship, lots of slash, and implied universe-wide male pregnancy.

Words: 4718, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Sheriff Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Natalie Martin, Ethan (Teen Wolf), Aiden (Teen Wolf), Kali (Teen Wolf), Ennis (Teen Wolf), Vernon Boyd, Victoria Argent, Allison Argent, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Kira Yukimura, Noshiko Yukimura, Ken Yukimura, Theo Raeken, Malia Tate, Tara Graeme, Bobby Finstock, Braeden (Teen Wolf), Corinne | Desert Wolf, Conrad Fenris, Alan Deaton

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Deucalion/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore, Danny Mahealani/Stiles Stilinski, Jordan Parrish/Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski, And Variations Thereof - Relationship

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Alternate Universe - Supernatural is Natural, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Intersexed Characters, Trans Issues in an A/B/O world, Supernatural Elements/Species as Minorities, Polyamory, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Slash

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2UXjWnG

[ao3feed-dannystiles]

The Spark

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2UXjWnG

by sifshadowheart

Stiles tried to say no. In fact he said "no" repeatedly. Unfortunately for him, one Lydia Martin knew just what buttons to push to get him to comply.

Even with something as ridiculous as signing up to be the latest looking-for-love Suitor on a ratings-tanking reality dating show "The Spark."

  This is an A/U where the supernatural is normal and known as well as a/b/o dynamics with the end-game being a closed polyamorous relationship, lots of slash, and implied universe-wide male pregnancy.

Words: 4718, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Sheriff Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Natalie Martin, Ethan (Teen Wolf), Aiden (Teen Wolf), Kali (Teen Wolf), Ennis (Teen Wolf), Vernon Boyd, Victoria Argent, Allison Argent, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Kira Yukimura, Noshiko Yukimura, Ken Yukimura, Theo Raeken, Malia Tate, Tara Graeme, Bobby Finstock, Braeden (Teen Wolf), Corinne | Desert Wolf, Conrad Fenris, Alan Deaton

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Deucalion/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore, Danny Mahealani/Stiles Stilinski, Jordan Parrish/Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski, And Variations Thereof - Relationship

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Alternate Universe - Supernatural is Natural, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Intersexed Characters, Trans Issues in an A/B/O world, Supernatural Elements/Species as Minorities, Polyamory, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Slash

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2UXjWnG