#phantom work

[pricegouge]

got absolutely clobbered over the head with a pretty fucked up idea so now it's your problem. 1k

cw: poisoning! bit of a sick fic, but nothing gratuitous. munchausen by proxy, but make it (mostly) consensual.

He knows it's coming when Simon's hands shake, a near-imperceptible tremble only brought to John's attention by the way Simon's tea spills over the lip of his takeaway cup, stains the bone design printed on his fingers. Simon puts the cup on the counter, takes a half second too long to get the lid to catch on the rim properly.

"Best see to that," John warns him, already making contingency plans for their next potential mission, calculating where best his over-sized liability could fit. God forbid the man bench himself, though John's not one to talk.

Ghost just nods, the issue already taken care of. "Yes, sir."

Price figures he can get another month or so out of him, but circumstance makes liars of them both. A bad job gone worse, much of that expected month spent in the field. They're all just lucky it comes to a head while on base, some no-name sergeant the unsuspecting barometer for Simon's impending breakdown instead of a misplaced bullet.

The boy's come back from worse.

The first time - it had landed in his lap, honestly, a stomach bug that had torn the whole base apart, left grown, hardened men wilting into sick bowls and shaking in their sheets. The lieutenant had been stoic as ever, but John could see the glassiness of his eyes, the way his clothes had hung from him for weeks after. Docile, too. Or near enough. Too tired to be ornery, at least.

Put out of his mind for months, he let Ghost rebuild himself, pulling his pieces into place like armor. His intensity returned, a blessing just as much as a curse as John was generally the one left to handle all the formal complaints. It was easy enough, each log finding the bottom of the bin the moment the plaintiff left his office. Still, waste of time having to sit in on each meeting; to lend his ear to every up-and-coming private who was too dull to recognize where on the ladder of irreplaceable assets themselves and the lieutenant lie. Nearing the end of his rope, he made some glib comment about wishing the man would feel worse again soon and balked a bit when Simon just blinked at him, agreed it's always a good reset, being forced to take leave.

From anyone else's mouth, he'd have assumed the man was asking for time off, a pampered little vacation taken with the captain's approval. Guiltless, thoughts unassailed by the realities of international collusions. But Ghost submitted no reqs, just carried on steady as always.

Until he hadn't, a rookie mistake John prides himself on catching before it could make it too far.

"Need to be able to depend on ya, Simon," he'd chastised, his own frustrations bubbling over, anger unchecked because he knew Ghost could handle it, wouldn't shrink from him like so many others. "Should be able to trust ya with paperwork, at least!"

And Ghost didn't shrink. Swelled up instead, took on more roles, ran himself ragged.

"You're grounded," John had told him, let the double meaning sink in, embarrass the lad.

"Good luck with that, sir," the lieutenant had countered, shouldered his way onto the hele and tucked himself in between the sergeants just to spite him.

So he remembers. Tired and docile. Level headed after days of R & R.

He treats it like a mission, same as everything else. They're sick in the same way, like that. It gets easier with time, both of them settling into their roles. John's done it many ways, used backdoors he'd never realized he'd had access to in order to avoid Kate's persistent gaze as he researched, bought household cleaners he learned how to disguise the taste of. Simon had never been picky, could probably be served squirrel jerky without much complaint. But wariness is something else, stems from survival, and Price himself had helped to hone that instinct, made it iron-clad.

Simon noticed the fourth time. John's own fault, having him around for dinner. Too obvious about having cooked specially for him. Simon's dark eyes had settled on the plate for so long the meal had gone cold, vague chemical scent becoming more obvious by the second.

John never flinched. Not even when Simon's gaze flicked to him, a silent challenge.

"You need to rest, boy."

Entranced, he watched as something flicked across Simon's brow. Comprehension. Acceptance, maybe. The balaclava was rolled up, tucked over the ruined bridge of his nose, and Simon bore crooked, rotting teeth to tuck in, ate the whole plate in less than four bites.

They hardly bother with the pretenses anymore, not when John's just as tired as him. Not when they can't keep replaying the same game, the reputation of John's cooking at stake. It's better this way, the small vial he keeps in his desk providing a much more consistent outcome anyway. And he won't deny he enjoys the power Simon gives him, either: maw agape, tongue extended. He doesn't flinch when the syrup coats his tongue, although John knows how rotten it tastes - tried it himself just to be certain he could safely navigate Simon's limits, because he knows what Simon can take, even if the boy doesn't.

It starts with Simon on his knees, usually. A stream of apologies flooding from his mouth alongside the excess drool that puddles on Price's thigh. John shushes him with thick fingers, likes to feel the building convulsions in his throat from within.

He likes it best after Simon's worn himself out, lays sweat-stained and panting on his cot, mask long forgotten. Too tired to care. John keeps him hydrated, trickles water into his mouth from his finger tips, letting it pour over his palm. Simon takes whatever he gives - more syrup, even, if John deems it's needed. Trusts his judgment, trusts his captain to make him whole again.

They treat it like a mission, both sick like that. Know sometimes you have to go further than expected to get the results you want.

[nicktoonsunite]

skull emoji

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

[bet-on-me-13]

Bruce owes Danny money. He does Not want to pay up.

So! Danny had to run away from Amity Park when his parents discovered his Powers. But every time he tried to stay in a single place in America, they somehow managed to find him.

Turns out, they were working with the GIW to track him using the GIW's resources and the Fenton's Genius to find him everywhere he ran to. Eventually, Danny figured he had had enough and ran to Europe where the GIW had no Jurisdiction.

After wandering for a while, Danny was found and recruited by the League of Assasins. He was powerful, skilled, and connected to the Lazarus Pits, so they approached him with a job offer.

They would hide him from the Fentons, who had began to search for him in Europe independently, and in return he would work for them as an Assasin.

Considering his situation, Danny agreed.

He began training to be an Assasin, supplementing his Ghost Abilities with the abilities of an Assasin to become even more Stealthy.

While training under the League, Danny met another recruit simply known as Bruce. They trained together for years, even going on a few missions together gathering intel, and using disguises to hid in plain sight.

On one of these missions, Danny lent Bruce some money with the promise to get paid back when they returned to the League. That same night, Bruce left the League of Assasins and never came back.

...

Bruce was sitting in the Batcave going over a case with Tim, Jason was off to the side cleaning his Guns, and Dick and Cass were holding an acrobatics competition in their Obstacle Course, with Damien, Steph, and Duke cheering them on.

Suddenly an Eldritch Emerald Light sprang to life in the center of the Batcave, and everybody dropped what they were doing and sprang to action.

Slowly, a glowing green figure emerged from the Light. He appeared Eldritch in Nature, as if he existed in multiple layers of reality at once and looking at him gave them minor headaches. Then, the figure spoke up.

"BRUCE. ITS BEEN 15 YEARS. YOU STILL OWE ME 16 DOLLARS."

Recognizing Danny, Bruce took a moment to compose himself before responding.

"Fuck Off."

[zillychu]

hey google what's masochism. hey google am I a masochist. hey google,

(bonus under the cut)

[wanologic]

always good to keep a screamhole handy

[qt-kt]

Here’s my piece for this years @invisobang !

I drew this for chapter 5 of @brekitten 's wonderful fic! Please go give it a read :D

[hoodedjelly]

Still Feel by Half Alive

(there is a second of flashing at the start was unsure if i should tag it or not, but this is the warning)

[youtube video link]

[faust-terrorsofthenight]

Nanami - The capability of First-Grade Sorcerer

[azulhood]

DPxDC crossover but, instead of Danny being his ghostly-horror self, the justice league believe that he's just some guy.

Danny: *glowing eyes, sharp teeth, aura of eldritch being*

Villain: You're seeing this right?

Justice league: *turns around to find all the ghostly stuff gone* oh that's Danny *waves* hi Danny!

Villain: ...are you being serious right now?

It's not even that he's doing it on purpose, it's just anytime he does ghost things none of the heros are looking, and when they do have him in their sights he's just a normal person.

It probably wouldn't work for batman and his thousand cameras, but let's just say that it never got his attention cause no one in the league thought to mention it and the one time he did check it was just regular dude hours.

To the Justice league Danny is the humanist human to ever human.

Which is why they are so confused as to why this small branch of the government (mad scientist parents optional) is so sure he isn't.

[nightshade86]

DPXDC PROMPT

Danny and Danielle are sitting on opposite ends of a room full of people, with the only exit being the middle of a 10-foot high ceiling.

The Gotham rogue who captured them is getting increasingly irritated that their trap to move the walls closer isn't working while the Bats are getting closer.

[bet-on-me-13]

The cult of...Danny Fenton?

So! Way back when Danny first moved into his new neighborhood in Gotham, he had some trouble controlling his Powers. The different Types and Levels of Ectoplasm in the air when compared to Amity had thrown off his control.

He was used to being in places where his Ectoplasm meshed well with the Atmosphere, like a Water Balloon in a Pool, but in Gotham that analogy would be closer to a Water Balloon in the sewers. It was too different from what he was used to to fully control his Powers.

So it's understandable that he messed up a few times and his neighbors found out about his Abilities.

They took it well at first, Danny wasn't going to go Rogues or anything, and he never used them maliciously, but eventually they got curious.

They asked what his limits were, how he got them in the first place, and what the hell the Ghost Zone was. The answers "None Really", "I died and was reborn", and "A Collective of every Afterlife at once" did spark some interesting reactions from them.

Most importantly, a few of them joked about him being an Eldritch God that they needed to worship. He was good enough friends with them that at that point they felt comfortable pranking eachother, so they did just that.

Danny woke up one day on his birthday, and saw all of his friends and neighbors surrounding the makeshift Throne they had made and put him on while he was asleep. The entire day they chanted stuff like "The Great One requires Ms. Smiths Apple Pie for his day of birth!" And "The Great One Wishes for us to sing the Ritual Song! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birth-"

After his birthday, they kept up the joke.

It didn't help that his powers had evolved Again! And now he could bestow abilities onto his friends. The jokes they made about their God granting them Supernatural Powers to rule the world with were insufferable.

Then, one day while he was just resting at home, watching a movie on his TV, he felt a Pull at his Core. The same kind of Pull whenever he was being summoned. But why would they summon hi- Oh Shit! It's Mr Jenkins Party today! He was supposed to meet them at the Warehouse they used for special events an Hour Ago!

He quickly accepted the Summoning, but was met with a suprising sight. His Neighbors all tied up in a pile to his right, a spilled table of party food to his left, and right in front of him, Batman and his Family watching him with wary eyes.

Slowly, he opened his mouth. "...so, did you come for the party or..."

[dandey-lion]

Tim: If fate truly is a thing, then my soulmate should just fall into my arms!

Danny: < falls out of a glowing green portal and into Tim’s arms >

Batfam:

Tim:

Danny:

Tim:

Danny, slicking back his hair with one hand and doing finger guns with the other: Hey~

[soarrenbluejay]

So. Danny is de-aged and in Gotham. Who cares why, but he’s here, and way too smart for his own good. And stubborn, plenty stubborn.

You can too steal the bat’s wheels and get away with selling them! Sure, no Regular Person will take em but rogues? They have gimmic mobiles they break out every so often and you know what would be HILARIOUS Mr riddler? if you could roll up in your brand new riddle me this machine with STOLEN BAT WHEELS ON IT. So, are you ready to buy.

Told from the perspective of a horrified onlooker first trying to convince the kid to put the wheels back bc people have tried it before and then rapidly trying to de escalate a very determined de aged Danny from selling the wheels to the nearest rogue.

Personally am envisioning a delighted Harley cooing over the kid as she gets some new wheels for her motorbike and promptly roping the kid in for tea with her gf and def not to make him her nephew by sheer willpower. However, the options are truly open. Freeze, scarecrow, hell the joker would probably go along with it bc he finds it hilarious and would provide a convenient excuse for old Danny ‘Fuck Clowns’ Nightinggale to get within stabby stabby range. The world is your clown-killing oyster.

[thatgaydemigodnerd]

DPxDC Prompt

Sam and Danny were messing around with some occult books she had gotten and to both their surprise Danny got the spell to work.

Turns out being saturated with ectoplasm during the portal incident lets danny tap into the mana that's all around, and he can do magic.

As an adult he moves out and becomes a traveling mage, mostly doing seances for people and letting them believe he is a scam or not. Usually he can actually get contact with the dead, death magic is his natural affinity after all, but skeptics will be skeptics ya know.

One day he had his whole spiel set up in Gotham, the people here lose loved ones all the time and would gladly pay him to hear their dear nana once again, or get their mothers secret recipe, or say one final goodbye to their spouse.

What danny didn't expect was a certain mr wayne showing up asking about his parents.

What he double didn't expect was one of his other customers of the day being John Constantine

What he triple didn't expect is The Batman inviting him to be a consult and detective for murder cases with his seances

Tldr; danny figures out he can do magic after the portal incident. Becomes a real mage who pretends to do fake seances, and is now hired as murder case consult by the batman, while hiding that he's a real magician, and also hiding he is dead himself

[batsyheere]

"So, handling your archnemesis," Danny starts. The room falls quiet, heads slowly turning to look at the man as he writes the words on the chalkboard. When finished, the characters somehow both messy and neat at once, Danny places the chalk back down and claps his hands.

"I typically call them fruitloops. Often they're in a better position than you are- older, richer, more powerful. They may have some sort of status that protects them when facing the public."

Tim wondered where Dick was right now, and if he was laughing. His brain was lagging like a computer as he tried to process what Danny was saying, and how seriously a few of his fellow teen vigilantes were taking this.

"Some of their more common tactics are-" the chalk was picked back up, and Danny writes as he speaks.

"Manipulation, isolation, conditioning, and empathy."

MICE.

Tim stares at the board, and quietly slips put his phone.

-What have I done to deserve this.

Enjoy your lessons Tim-

His head thumps against the desk. Conner leans over, gives him a pat on the shoulder but returns to taking notes as Danny goes on to explain the conditioning tactic.