#this is basically Danny Has A Bad Time: The Fic

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 24

[see all chapters]

read on: [ao3] [ffn] (please read tags)

Summary: After being accidentally revealed to the public and taken away by the government, Danny deals with the aftermath of his time with the GIW.

****

Danny tossed a low-powered ecto-ball between his hands, letting it trail across his flowing aura before pushing it back the way it came. Back and forth, over and over again.

It was exactly the sort of monotonous task he needed while he thought.

The primary issue Danny had with his new partnership with Drew was that he, admittedly, was broke.

Very broke.

He'd spent the last of his measly savings account on Christmas gifts for his family. And even if he asked his parents to reinstitute a chore chart that he could feasibly do now, even then, his $20-per-week allowance wouldn't come close to what buying opioids from Drew was going to cost.

Which, as it turned out, was a lot. Danny had no idea how expensive oxycodone was, but as he found out, it was way more than he thought it would be. 

Thankfully, Drew seemed to be at least a halfway decent guy and informed Danny that hydrocodone or Percocet might be a little more in his budget. And sure, they weren’t as good as oxy, but right now, Danny would take anything.

But considering his current savings of zero dollars and zero cents, even a single hydrocodone pill was too costly.

It would have been so much easier if he could publicly be Phantom. Because then, he could just do what other celebrities did and host an occasional livestream on social media, giving bashful shoutouts when people donated money. With as huge of a celebrity as Phantom was, it wouldn't take long for him to get a month's supply of medication.

But no, Phantom was still a secret, and Fenton was pretty unemployable right now too. And that was a problem. A huge problem. It meant that neither Phantom nor Fenton could get money for drugs.

Which Danny needed. Badly.

He hadn't slept last night. It was his first night without in weeks, and he couldn't sleep. 

Drew had texted him that morning that he could come by anytime today and pick up as much as he wanted. The issue was, all Danny had to pay with was a blossoming headache and the whining of his increasingly angry nerves.

He couldn't just rob a bank. They all had so much anti-ghost security; they probably had ecto-signature readers and shields. Not to mention, if he got caught, he could kiss his freedom goodbye.

He didn't sleep last night. He needed those damn pills. At this rate, his heart was going to beat out of his damn chest.

Tomorrow was his IEP meeting where they planned to talk about switching him to a full school day with regular classes. He was going to be a normal student again, or at least partially.

There was no fucking way he'd be able to get through that meeting without support.

But what could he do? He had no money.

Then, a snake-like voice wormed into the darkest shadow of his mind and hissed, But your parents have money. They're famous now too.

His breathing stopped.

He stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, the ecto-ball fizzling out in midair.

No. There was no way he'd just thought that.

There was no way he'd even consider it. His parents worked hard for their money, and stealing from them would be a new low Danny didn't think he'd ever be able to come back from.

But why? the voice asked. It sounded innocent in the most insincere way.

It disgusted him.

They were his parents. They were the ones that got him home! They cared about him!

All their money they have now? That's because of you, Danny. That's because you're their son. Why should they get all of it when you were the one who sacrificed his body, his health, everything to the Guys in White? Why do they get to profit off your fame while you get nothing?

No, people were buying their designs. He'd helped them become a recognizable brand, sure, but at the end of the day, people bought their tech because it worked.

And it works because of you. Phantom was their muse. Phantom was the reason they designed half the pieces they did. You deserve compensation for your work.

No.

No.

No.

But I'm right, Danny. You know I'm right.

The voice was right, but that didn't mean that he needed to stoop to that depravity and steal from his fucking parents.

He was a good person. He wouldn’t do something like that.

But did he really have a choice?

They owe you. You wouldn't need to do this if they’d let you be Phantom.

That was true…but still…

Why fight me? You've already made up your mind.

No, he hadn't. The voice was right, he needed to do this, but…but…

What if they caught him? 

They won't notice. You know how they get when they're all wrapped up in a new project.

That was true.

Just this once. Just until you can figure some other way out.

Okay. Just this once.

Danny released a shuddering breath.

Just this once.

He transformed and grabbed hold of his intangibility and invisibility, slinking through the floor into the kitchen. Hovering near the ceiling, he looked down, the knot in his chest only releasing once he saw the coast was clear.

Of course it was clear. His parents were glued to their work.

If they saw him, they'd hate him. They'd send him back to the hospital, or ground him, or do a mix of both. They'd install the new chip in him and never take it out.

He needed to be quick.

He darted to the living room where, on a side table against the wall, there was a fruit bowl containing a few key rings, a mini ecto-gun, and a wallet.

His dad's wallet, to be specific. Jack Fenton had a habit of misplacing his wallet and wasting precious time tearing the house apart to find it just when the family was in a hurry to leave, so this fruit bowl was installed. Now, upon entering the home, Jack always dropped his keys and wallet in the bowl.

It was just sitting there. Waiting for Danny to open it up and glimpse the goodies that lay inside.

He wrapped delicate fingers around the worn leather wallet, unfurled the sides, and almost cried with happiness.

A hundred and fifty dollars now rested in the palm of his hand. It wouldn't buy him much, but it would buy him time. And if he was smart and rationed appropriately, it might buy him enough time to figure out what to do about Phantom.

He was going to be okay.

Breathe.

It was going to be okay.

****

Rain pattered on the roof above him. Around him, voices hushed to a lull.

Danny relaxed into his chair. His head felt light and clear, and his previous nerves had been swept away by the passing breeze of two little white pills on his palm.

Glancing around the conference room, he recognized some faces in the dim light. Mr. Lancer and Ms. Perez settled into their chairs, exchanging pleasantries with his parents and a woman Danny didn't know.

Or maybe, he had met her. He wasn't sure. There was a lot from last fall he didn't remember.

Fatigue edged his vision, and he fought the yawn, losing briefly. He couldn't help it. It was rare that his body was just so relaxed. 

He hoped he wasn't being suspicious. He just needed to be convincing enough for these perceptive adults to place him in a normal classroom again. That meant no nerves, no shaky voice, nothing that could make them doubt for a second that he didn't belong with his peers.

The voices settled in the room, and a few people muted their phones and slipped them into their pockets. The woman Danny didn't recognize with frizzy brown hair and glasses nodded to the group and said, "Thank you."

The last of the wandering attention had snapped onto her now, and she began. “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for being here for Danny’s IEP meeting. Today, our goal is to review the current plan and Danny’s progress in the learning center, and update his IEP for his transition into the inclusion setting."

Danny glanced around the table, and everyone else seemed to be nodding to her words like this were rehearsed. 

“Why don’t we start with introductions?” the woman said. “I’m Lina Fayed, the special education coordinator.”

“I’m Sam Morin, the school psychologist.”

“I’m William Lancer, Mr. Fenton’s homeroom and English teacher.”

“I’m Jocelyn Hill, the speech-language pathologist,” said a woman Danny had unfortunately become familiar with.

Although, he’d never known her name.

…and just like that, it was gone from his brain.

“I’m Yasmin Perez, Danny’s special education teacher.”

“I’m Maddie Fenton, Danny’s mother.”

“I’m Jack Fenton, Danny’s father.”

It was Danny's turn, but fatigue was pushing at his eyelids, and he didn't feel like speaking. He supposed he should have been embarrassed, but he was too busy enjoying the feeling of his muscles melting into the cushioned seat under him to feel much of anything at all.

"I'm Danny Fenton," he said with a buttery tongue. 

If only it could always be this easy to speak.

“Alright! Thank you, everyone, for the introductions, and thank you, Danny, for being here with us. We always encourage students to attend their IEP meetings when they enter high school. To begin, the purpose of today’s meeting is a reassessment of Danny’s IEP to determine his placements for the next semester. We will review Danny’s current levels of performance, which will also include his evaluation results, strengths, weaknesses, concerns from team members, progress toward goals, proposed goals, placement options, and services for access in the general education classroom. Before we start, are there any time limitations today?”

“None for us,” Maddie said. “And again, thank you all for meeting with us.”

“Of course. As I said, we all want the reintegration process to go as smoothly as possible for Danny. Just a reminder, if the IEP reconvene cannot conclude today, we will schedule another meeting as soon as possible. But with that out of the way, let’s continue the meeting!”

They didn't have to worry about that because they wouldn’t need a second meeting. Everyone was going to see how well he’d progressed, how calm and confident he now was, and they would release him into the normal, general ed classroom.

The coordinator was now discussing legal rights and handing some pieces of paper to Danny’s parents. It was probably a load of word salad, likely said to cover the school’s ass. Maddie had warned Danny that these meetings could get a bit official, and a bit boring.

But again, they didn’t need to stress about any of that. They could just shove him in a classroom, and he was sure he would adapt without any complications.

“…are there any discussion areas you would like to add to the agenda?” the coordinator asked, though more to Danny’s parents than to him.

“None that we can think of.” Maddie shot a questioning look at Jack, then to Danny himself.

It took Danny a second to realize they were looking at him expectantly. He shrugged.

“Alright, continuing, decisions about Danny’s placement and supports are made through a consensus. Although team members may have varying opinions on certain decisions, consensus is built when all team members come together for the final decision. Does everyone agree and support this?”

All heads around the table nodded.

The coordinator gave what Danny assumed was supposed to be a warm nod, though she looked slightly stiff doing it. Perhaps, she was nervous because of what he was. Which, if that was the case, she shouldn't have been.

Phantom was the town's protector. He was the good guy.

See? It was okay.

His core twinged in dissent, and it took him a moment to remember that he hadn’t actually done any protecting lately. But just when his brain began to spiral, the medication took charge, shushing him and lulling his fears back to sleep.

There was no reason to be stressing about that right now.

So, he tuned back into the conversation where the coordinator was now addressing Danny's parents directly.

"Here is a copy of your Parent’s Rights and Procedural Safeguards. Please remember that it is very important that you are actively involved in the educational planning for your child and that the IEP team will make no changes in your child’s program or services without your input, knowledge, and consent. Do you understand your Parents’ Rights? Would you like to review or discuss any part of them?"

She handed some papers to them across the table and said a few more legal buzzwords. Danny's parents responded, though Danny couldn't really hear them. Not because they were being quiet, but just because his brain had decided to take a small break.

They tossed words back and forth, at one point looking at him like they wanted something, though Danny couldn't understand what or why. So he simply said, "Yeah."

There was a pause, and then Maddie supplied, "Danny, you understand that you can provide input too? That since you're in high school, everyone at this table will consider your opinions about your education seriously?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course." He yawned.

He hoped he was conveying exactly how calm he felt about this meeting. He was all better now, he was all healed, he was truly a normal student and could be in a normal classroom.

See? Look at him, all confident and mature. If he were truly drowning in PTSD, could he be sitting here so nonchalantly with all these adults discussing his problems?

“Alright, so now diving into the drafted IEP, I'd like to begin by going over the current Transition Plan and update it with more of Danny’s input. The point of the transition plan is to look at the next one to five years and develop a vision for what Danny would like his life to look like after high school. Danny has begun working on his vision statement in learning center with Ms. Perez. Danny, would you like to share your current vision statement?"

Danny could only vaguely remember working on a vision statement in learning center, and he was pretty sure he hadn't finished it.

Still, he looked down at one of the sheets of paper placed before him, searching until he saw his chicken-scratch handwriting. Although he hadn't noticed it before, his handwriting had definitely improved since last fall. Where before it was barely legible, now at least he could read it without too much squinting.

"Um..." Danny's tongue felt heavy, but his head was light. "I'd like to get better at math. I missed a lot of math this year and I don't want to have to repeat algebra two next year. I'd like to earn my high school diploma and attend either a community college or a regular college after high school. I want to work in a field with space or engineering, but I'm worried that my—my current issues might prevent that from happening." He glanced at his parents, who at least appeared to be listening to him. "I'd like to be in all general education classes by the end of the year."

To his delayed surprise, his mother smoothed his shirt sleeve as she praised him. "Good job, honey."

Something stirred in his stomach, but he was drifting too far from his body to decipher what kind of emotion it was.

It likely wasn't important anyway.

"Thank you for sharing." The coordinator beamed at him. “It's really important for the team to remember, as we continue through this meeting, that ultimately, our decisions regarding Danny's placement next semester and accommodations should all be in service of helping Danny work toward his goals both in and after high school. Danny, we understand your situation and history, and we understand that this has made the transition back to an academic environment tremendously difficult for you. Our goal in both this meeting and through this contract is to help provide the tools necessary to ease some of that stress.

"So, now for the present levels of performance. With Danny's injuries still healing, as well as the benefit to the healing process that his, uh, ghost half gives him"—Danny was impressed that she was able to say it so casually—"much of our assessment data from the fall may now be out of date. Typically, we retest every other year, but because of the nature of Danny's injuries, we will be conducting a full re-eval next fall at the beginning of the school year. So this IEP meeting will be using the evaluations from last fall. However, we do have observational data from the BCBA that she's kindly summarized for us, as well as samples and reports from Mr. Lancer and Ms. Perez."

Danny didn't remember ever being observed. He wasn't even sure what a BCBA was or what she looked like. 

That meant that people were watching him while he didn't know. Hopefully, she had only seen the good things, the times when he'd been doing his work and paying attention and sitting still with a relaxed and calm face, just like he was doing now.

Hopefully, she hadn't seen those other times, like the other day when he took a nap in the middle of the learning center instead of doing his math work. Or that time when one of the footballers had asked him a question about Phantom and he'd been so thrown for a loop that he stuttered nonsense instead of responding like he normally would. 

Well, if she had seen those things, then everyone was probably really confused because his data may have painted him as emotionally unstable, but here he was, the perfect picture of mental health.

At this rate, his parents would have to give him the okay to have full access to his Phantom form.

"Presently," the coordinator continued, eyes glued to the sheets of paper in front of her, "Danny is a very bright young man receiving supports for health, academic, and social-emotional needs. Danny's able to come to school for half of the day to complete his schoolwork in the learning center with Ms. Perez. He's able to access the eleventh-grade core curriculum with significant modifications to his schoolwork, including a reduced workload, modified curriculum, and aide support for executive functioning. He is able to take his tests and quizzes in the learning center with an aide or Ms. Perez proctoring and assisting and redirecting as needed."

Ms. Perez took over, giving him a gentle grin as she did. "Yup, Danny's been working with me in the learning center for most of his current school day, and has been working both on his own, with a para, and with myself and various teachers who have prep and availability to visit our room during those hours. He’s been making steady progress catching up with the curriculum, but since he's only in school for half the day, he is behind on most subjects. Though, we have made some steady progress these last few weeks with the hopes that he will be able to finish out the year in the classroom."

"Yup! We're hoping Danno will be able to finish this year strong too! Right?" Jack turned to Danny, who had to remind himself that he was supposed to be making eye contact with the adults rather than studying how the scratches on the table were disrupting the reflections from the lights above.

"Huh? Yeah."

Jack beamed. "Atta boy!"

"That’s great!” the coordinator said. “And today, we’re going to discuss classroom placements for next semester, so I think a good segue into that would be to go over the current performance data we have on Danny. I'm going to go over both the evaluation scores and the recent data collected from Ms. Perez and the BCBA.

"In the psychoeducational eval, we assessed cognitive, academic, social-emotional, and behavioral functioning. Both Danny's parents and Danny's teachers reported global challenges across all areas of academic, internalization, externalization, and behavioral symptoms. According to the Weschler score summary, Danny's results indicate that verbal comprehension, processing speed, and working memory are all significant areas of weakness, although visual-spatial and fluid reasoning scored below average too. The academic achievement testing results showed that Danny could benefit from direct and explicit instruction across all subject areas, with areas of focus being reading and math..."

The coordinator's voice drifted off, becoming noise with the air vents and the puttering of raindrops against the roof. Danny could see her lips moving, he could see the other adults around nodding at what she was saying, but at this moment, he just couldn't find it in himself to care.

So what if some test results said something about how emotionally unavailable to math he was? Why should it matter? 

Life was short. There was no reason to waste it thinking about what a silly little test said.

And besides, he was Danny Phantom, wasn't he? Getting a job after high school would be a cinch.

He leaned back in his chair and let his head loll. It would have been such a nice day if not for the rain washing away the light dusting of snow they'd gotten the night before. 

It hadn't been a snowy winter. Maybe that would have been odd, but then again, it had been an odd year all around.

The woman was still talking. 

Wow.

It was kind of incredible how long people could talk for.

He wondered if he was supposed to be saying anything. But then, maybe it was better to remain silent because then maybe everyone would forget about those assessment results and his brain injury that was affecting his speech and making him sound more disabled than he was. 

So he sat there. The adults talked. At one point, his parents had looked at him in confirmation, and he'd nodded. They seemed pleased at that, which was great because pleasing his parents meant he was following their instructions, and following their instructions meant that maybe they'd realize he was mentally sound enough to handle having his ghost half back.

"...I've noticed that Danny tends to shut down when he encounters a difficult problem, or when he gets stuck on an assignment and gets frustrated. He does respond relatively well to redirection, although some days are tougher than others," Lancer was saying.

"I can get better at that," Danny interjected.

He must have been sitting in silence for a while because a few of the adults seemed surprised that he spoke. The speech counselor, however, gave him a thumbs up. She was always praising him for what she kept calling "self-advocacy." 

Maddie glanced at Danny. "His doctors believe this to be a side effect." 

A side effect of what? 

"And we agreed as well, which is why we chose to list that as one of the updated IEP goals. Do you agree, Danny?" the school psychologist asked.

"Sure."

See? Easygoing and calm.

"So, Danny will respond to redirection with no more than two prompts eight out of ten times as measured across a six-month period," the coordinator recited. "And to help with this, along with the other listed accommodations and goals, we recommend he receive aide support in his general education courses for the remainder of the semester."

Danny blinked at the coordinator.

He was pretty sure his brain was behaving a little slower than normal because, for a second there, it sounded like the coordinator had just said the words "aide support."

"We completely agree," Maddie said. To Danny's bewilderment, she put her hand on his arm and began lightly stroking his sleeve with her thumb. 

"As do I," Lancer said.

Danny's jaw opened, and he couldn't tell whether he should stare at Lancer in awe or betrayal. His brain was too jumbled to piece together any tangible emotions anyway. 

For a second, he almost wished he weren't high. But then, that was a silly thought. Because if he were sober right now, he might have started yelling.

Perhaps Lancer was worried about these diminished emotions in Danny bubbling to the surface and causing a scene, because he held Danny's gaze as he said, too seriously and compassionately, "This is not a punishment, nor is this a one-on-one. You will still be a normal student. There will be another adult in all your classes. She will help you when you need it, and she’ll leave you alone when you do not."

When Lancer put it like that, it was fine, wasn't it? Maybe that was the denial talking, or the fog shielding his brain from the shadows, but it was okay. 

“There are lots of students who receive inclusion support,” the psychologist added. “You’re not the first, nor the only student in the building.”

Yeah. He was still going to be a normal student attending normal classes. No one would have to know that the aide was there for him. Not if he did all his work in a timely manner and focused and took notes and raised his hand and always paid attention to what the teacher was saying and...and...

"Danny understands," Maddie said. She was still rubbing his arm. "Right?"

"Right."

"See? It's all okay!" Jack said.

And, right. It was all okay. Right now, he had nothing to worry about. 

He would be fine. He was going to be so fine. He was going to do good in classes—great, even! He was Phantom after all, and Phantom was cool, popular, and everything that Fenton had always wanted to be. Aide or no aide, he was going to be fine.

So, he let himself bask in that delusion under the safety of the fog, and he was very calm and behaved appropriately for the rest of the meeting. No outbursts, no crying, because everything was wonderful!

Everything was so wonderful.

If he just let the drugs take the wheel.

****

Danny lay on the roof, staring up at the partially cloud-covered sky above him. The air smelled of rain, earthy and electric, and felt of decaying humidity. He tried to admire the way the stars twinkled, he tried to differentiate the red ones from the white ones to play his old game of which was moving the fastest toward and away from Earth, he tried to find Mars and Saturn, usually visible in the sky.

But everything seemed so…

He didn’t know.

He never, never thought that he would seriously be the student who had to get…this. Whatever this was in that stupid, twenty-thousand-page contract.

Were all IEP documents that many pages? Or was it just Danny’s?

Ms. Perez’s learning center had a para. He remembered there being a para in his history class last year too. This annoying, mousy woman who joined midway through the year and kept harassing Danny to “stay in the classroom, please, don’t leave! Where are you going?”

But he never seriously thought that he would be the sole cause of an aide joining a class. Or all his classes.

Would the other students know? Would the aide always be hovering over his shoulder? Or would it be like last year, where the para walked around the room and spent most of her time with the rowdy boys in the back of the class?

Danny had so many questions. And so many fears. None of which could be solved by a white pill.

Which, judging by the steadily increasing burning in his chest, was just about due.

But that would require getting up. It would require going home. It would require turning back into his human form.

All things Danny didn’t want to do.

So he stayed there, trying to ignore the prickling in his chest, distracting himself with the preview of the night sky he could see through the clouds. He ignored the fact that he didn’t understand why he didn’t want to go home.

And he lay there until a slightly muffled voice, one that drove spikes into Danny’s stomach, piped up from behind him. “Phantom? Danny?”

Shit.

It was just his freaking luck.

He debated turning around and offering his friendly, signature Phantom wave that he used to give back when he was trying to win her over.

But he just didn’t have the energy for that tonight. And besides, there was no point. There was nothing left to win.

“Danny,” Valerie repeated, though not a question this time.

“S’me,” he responded dully.

She landed beside him, retracting her hoverboard, and from the corner of his eye, he watched as she twisted her gloves together and studied her boots.

Good. Let her feel uncomfortable for once.

“Hey. You have your ghost form back?” she tried.

“Yup.”

Despite his internal voice begging him to try a little, he did not sound enthusiastic at all.

“Oh. Um, that’s nice.” She took a hesitant step toward him.

Was she afraid of him?

“Sure is,” he said. If possible, his tone was even blander than before.

His chest was really hurting. And he was tired. Something dark was beginning to crawl in the corners of his eyes. He clearly wasn’t up for this, so maybe they could wrap this conversation up?

“Um…the tail…it’s—it’s—” she stammered.

His eyes narrowed.

“You know, I wasn’t sure—”

“What, if I’d have legs as a ghost? Well, I’m sure it’s really pleasing for you to see that I obviously don’t.”

Danny couldn’t see her expression under the mask, but judging by how she stepped back, he guessed he’d struck a blow to her confidence.

After all the shit he’d been through, she could take one measly little dig.

The silence stretched between them, dark and twisting, pulsing like a wave filling Danny’s hollow body with all the resentment he’d been burying for months and years. His skin prickled while shadows loomed over his eyes, and suddenly, it was too much. Hiding was too much.

He pushed himself upright to mimic a seated position, his glower snapping to her because really? After everything he’d been through, she was going to bring up his paraplegia? That was how she really planned on opening this conversation?

After she’d tried so long to eradicate not just his lower half, but his entire fucking body?

His brain quietly pinged that he needed to leave now. He didn’t feel right. It was going to get too dark soon. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to say that.” She held her arms up, placating. “I—I never wanted…”

Her voice trailed off, and for good reason. Such a good reason, in fact, that Danny snorted. “You’re such a liar, Val.”

His tone was a deathly sharp dagger slicing whatever clumsy air simmered between them. Raw emotions spilled out, ripping both their histories to the forefront and pouring them all on the ground between them. 

“I know!” Valerie slapped her helmet, her hand trembling as she exclaimed, “I know last year I was trying to…to…ugh!”

She crouched low on the gravel, and her fingers dug into her carbon-fiber head.

Danny didn’t say anything. Just watched. He didn't understand this emotion bubbling in his chest. Why it made him want to snap, lash out, hurt Valerie.

He didn’t understand why he couldn’t leave.

“You never told me who you were,” she said, her voice like sand on stone. “How was I supposed to know? I would never have hunted you if I’d known.”

If anything, her words further deepened the hole that leaked his stock of patience from his body. “If that was supposed to be reassuring, it sucked. Oh, so I’m sup—supposed to be thankful now that I have a human heartbeat, because if I—if I didn’t, then what? You would have no remorse killing me? Well, guess fucking what, Val, I don’t have a heartbeat in this form.”

He wasn’t supposed to say that out loud, but he really didn’t give a shit. Valerie was many things, but a snitch was not one of them.

Valerie dropped her gloves from her helmet screen, and Danny could imagine her dumbstruck face locking eyes with his.

Good.

He spread his arms out wide, giving her the best shot he could. “If you want to fucking blow my brains out, here’s your opportunity!”

But she didn’t move a muscle.

“Well?” he said, after the silence was beginning to turn awkward. “What the hell are you—are you waiting for?”

Another beat, then a quiet, “You were my friend. No, my boyfriend. I broke up with you because…because…”

“Because of Phantom."

“And you let me.”

“What, did you seriously expect me to just—just out myself to you like that?”

What should have been an easy “no” left Valerie in silence.

“Come on, Val, you of all people should know why I couldn’t say anything. You were at my fucking house. You saw…”

Danny couldn’t finish. You saw me, he wanted to say. You saw everything they did to me.

She finally sat on the roof. Not right next to him, of course. They weren’t ready for that yet. She gave him—or herself, Danny couldn’t tell—several feet of space. But she was sitting, where before, she would have been attacking.

“I was so mad when you were revealed. So mad.”

Darkness nipped at his cheeks, and he bit down the urge to snap at her again.

“I had made a whole speech I was going to give you when you got out. Had rehearsed it in the mirror and everything.” Her voice grew weak. “I was so stupid to believe what they were saying. That it was just an imprisonment.”

“You were,” Danny said, not kindly, because really, she should have known. “You'd heard them before. You knew what—what they were going to do to me. You wanted to do that...too, I bet." 

“Nothing like that,” Valerie snapped. “Even in my worst moments, I would never have done anything like that.”

The darkness slithered up his throat, and he didn't fight it when it took control of him and snarled, “Well, I guess I should—I should be flattered, then. You wanted to kill me, but at least you didn’t want to torture me on the way out!”

“You ruined my life, Danny. And your parents always talked about how evil ghosts were. What the hell did you expect?”

Oh, so they were going there. 

“I ruined your life, how—how, exactly? Because now you know—you know that I don’t have a dog, Val. So whose dog was that?”

“Just because he’s not your dog doesn’t mean you don’t babysit him all the time. I’ve seen those TikToks!”

“That weekend? In Axiom? That was the first time I’d ever met Cujo!”

“So he has a name, now?”

Danny wanted to scream. “Of course he has a name! He’s a dog! He’s a dog that your dad killed!”

“Shut up!” Her helmet whipped over to him again. “Don’t you dare talk about my dad!”

“Well, it was! Your dad’s security system replaced Axiom’s last one. Wanna know what the last secure—last security system was? Because it wasn’t a piece of—of technology, Val!”

“Shut up!” Valerie’s voice broke.

Danny should have felt like an asshole, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked numbly as Valerie’s chest moved erratically, and listened as her cries ripped from her throat. And all he could feel was the urge to scream that he needed to leave and go home because it was going to be too dark soon, and he didn't understand what that meant but just that he knew he needed to flee.

“No, no, no. My dad—my dad would never do anything like that,” Valerie said through clenched teeth. She retracted her helmet finally, her hands mopping her eyes and runny nose. “He would never.”

But Danny didn’t stop. “Cujo was just trying to get his squeaky toy back from one of—one of the closets inside. He was looking for it. He wasn’t trying to do—to do anything else. Once he got his toy, he…he left. He went back to the Zone. Whatever happened to your dad, that wasn’t my fault.”

He always fantasized about the moment when he could finally sit Valerie down and explain himself. In all his daydreams, he approached her with empathy and understanding, and they ended their discussion with an embrace.

So what the hell was wrong with him tonight?

Why did he suddenly remember all the months she spent hunting him down, shooting him with every weapon in her arsenal, consequences to his body be damned. More than one night, he’d had to stitch his skin back together because of her.

Sam was always the one angry about that—not Danny. Danny always had excuses for Valerie. She didn’t know he was Phantom, she was going through a hard time, he didn’t figure out what Cujo was after soon enough. 

But deep down inside, had he always been this angry?

“Fuck,” she murmured.

She was right. This—no, they were fucked up. Their relationship was fucked up. Danny was fucked up.

And Valerie had seen that, the day she visited him in his bedroom. Back when he used to trace the cracks in his wall because without that, he couldn’t be sure he existed at all.

“Why did you come visit me that day?” Danny finally asked. “You knew I—I’d just gotten home from the hospital. You knew—”

“I didn’t,” Valerie said, wiping her eyes. “I mean, I knew you’d gotten out of the hospital, but I didn’t know, really. I mean, I didn’t know the extent of…it.”

Danny cocked his head. “I thought I was all over the news? That’s what they told me.”

“Yeah, but not you. Just people talking about you. Or old videos of you. There were rumors online, but nothing substantial.”

“So that—that’s why you thought it was just an imprisonment.” Danny stared down at the foggy mist that was his spectral tail.

“I was in denial," Valerie said.

“Yeah.” 

He wondered if he would ever get his legs back in this form. 

This darkness was beginning to get suffocating.

It was stemming from his chest, he realized.

He heard his voice ask, “Did you like what you saw? That day in my room?” 

“That’s sick, Danny.”

But again, he didn’t care. He didn't know why, but he didn't care. “What? I didn’t put—put on a good enough show for you? All drugged up like that?”

He wanted to stop. He was a good person; why was he saying this? His words didn’t even have any bite left to them. They were just…hollow. Just like the rest of him.

“You know that’s not true. Just stop, please.”

Was he an asshole?

No. No, he wasn’t.

“Sorry,” he conceded with.

He really needed another pill. He should have taken one with him before he left. He was so stupid for leaving all of them behind.

The darkness agreed with him. 

You should take another pill now, a voice said in barely a whisper.

The darkness growled. It sounded like a dog.

“What was the trial like?” he asked, trying to ignore the pain in his chest.

“You mean you haven’t seen it?” She sounded startled.

"No."

"Oh..." Valerie shifted awkwardly. "Um...I don't really know. It's on YouTube, you know?"

"I don't want to see it."

He should have gone home. He should have listened to the darkness.

There's still time for you to save yourself.

"Yeah, I got you. Um, I don't know, though. The legal jargon slipped over my head. And it was pretty fast, you know? There was a big celebration in town when the judge ordered you to be freed."

That was ironic, he realized. That while the town was celebrating, he had been dying from the final incision.

"What did they do to you in there?" her quiet voice said.

The air was getting darker now. Soon, the stars might be gone from view.

And the shadows were beginning to eat his skin.

So instead of answering, Danny turned invisible and flew away.

****

previous / next

****

Thank you to @imekitty for betaing the chapter!

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Tim pulls a fast one on Batman for their mutual benefit. Everybody giggles. Danny goggles.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

(Additional TW: I think this counts as a panic attack ngl)

On the one hand. The room Danny’s in has a killer view of the earth from the moon.

The wall is basically just one big window. Danny is also apparently permitted to mash his face into the glass and ogle the Earth from Space for as long as he wants until the stinky dad, whoever he is, finally emerges from the depths of the building.

Diana’s the only one beside him today. She looks nice—nicer than usual, in her armor and bright clothing rather than soft scrubs and hair net. She can push his chair without getting tired—she could probably fly and carry him too, if she had to, so. Danny’s maybe counting on her liking him if this stinky dad tries to be mean.

So. Diana (nice lady) and Danny (half-dead ghost boy) are quietly seated in a dim, peaceful board room, absorbing the early morning (?) space radiation when the door hisses open across the room.

In the doorway is a long, dark, shadow of a man.

…And the green guy!!

Okay, if the stinky dad man brought a friend to this meeting the same way Diana’s meant to supervise him, Danny feels like he’s been lawyered up for the sake of some kind of court trial. This is not fair. Danny wasn’t able to review his case with his legal representation before this.

Well. Danny fumes. Whatever. His lawyer is Diana, the most powerful living being he’s seen ever in his life, and she can totally kick the green guy’s ass. Hell, Danny could probably kick the green guy’s ass.

...You know. If he wasn’t. Sick.

The stinky dad guy looks a lot like the blob his kid drew him as. That’s kind of neat—his suit is all black with little to no variation, which sort of just washes out the colors Danny might have been able to see if his eyes were still good. He’s very quiet, which is nice, and he’s very not-trying-to-read-Danny’s-mind, which is even better.

The two sit. Danny’s already in a wheelchair, so he just lets Diana wheel him to the table. The lady sits beside him in the spinny office chair.

Hello, the green guy opens with, already toying with the edges of Danny’s aura.

Danny sends back an abundance of ass-kicking emotions.

…Alright then, the green man capitulates, the barest hint of bemusement quickly stifled.

Good. Danny is mean. He’s awake enough to be mad about other people touching his aura from any end of his personal bubble.

But then the green guy…says stuff to the dad guy? And it’s very? Quiet?

Explanations, the green guy says. The image of a sign language translator at a baseball game floats over to him, and—

…Oh. He’s translating. For Danny.

That’s…nice? Nicer than Danny expected, honestly? Most of the time, people are perfectly happy to misinterpret him. It was kind of the way of the world at this point. Getting blamed for stuff, getting accused of stuff…

Man. If they turn out to be indoctrinating him for secret war purposes, at least they’re going all in. Danny might actually. You know. Like it here. A little.

He squirms in his chair, and tries not to look at anyone in particular. Diana—the lady who’s been nice to him—makes as if to straighten his hair for him, and remembers at the last second that he doesn’t like to be touched.

And sure. Danny doesn’t want to be touched. By bad guys.

…But Diana’s been really nice to him, so. Maybe. He scratches at the back of his neck, and ducks his head down—and remembers to use his words. “Yes,” he consents verbally. He can’t make eye contact. But he can…let her. Brush his hair back. A little.

Diana asks something long and complicated—and the green guy presses an image of Wonder Woman asking permission, being kind, being gentle­—up against the edges of Danny’s awareness.

Danny nods at the floor instead of at the lady. It’s fine. She’s fine. It’s fine.

And her fingers carefully brush through the front end of his fringe, and Danny. Danny is so normal about it. He doesn’t even cry or anything. Not even in front of his friend’s stinky dad.

And she doesn’t do it like Mom did it. And she doesn’t ruffle his hair like Dad did.

But it’s. Nice. And she doesn’t pull.

…And she doesn’t hit.

Danny eventually leans back into his wheelchair. It’s a little bit embarrassing to be halfway in and halfway out, but. Whatever. The scary-looking-dad with the earsies on his helmet has his own teenager. He should understand what it feels like to get emotionally weird with your teen in a public place. If he doesn’t, well...he wouldn’t be a great dad, then, and his opinion would suck anyway.

Based on what Danny knows about the masked kid, Danny isn’t sure the guy would tolerate a bad dad. The teen seems kinda unhinged.

The man says something, and the green guy presses a number of translated feelings against Danny’s awareness: Greetings. Questions about Danny’s wellbeing. Curiosity, but not demanding.

“…Hello,” Danny says back, and. Waves.

The man waves back. He’s got little claws on his gloves.

…Like a cat? Is it to go with his ears? Danny wonders about the possibilities of the guy being cat themed. It’s possible, presumably.

So…they want to know how Danny’s doing? Danny shrugs, and he glances at Diana, since, you know, she could probably fill them in? She does speak their language. And she’s been here the whole time.

The lady leans in close to him, black hair falling out from behind her ear. “What do you want to say?” she whispers into her ear, hand covering her mouth from their watchers.

Uh. It’s up to…Danny?? Somehow??

Danny winces. “…Good?” he tries, unsure if the word he uses means okay or fine or well. “…Not…hungry?”

“Very good,” Diana agrees, a little louder. She looks proud. Being not hungry must mean a lot to her, then. It means a lot to Danny too—he can remember the sensation of his stomach rubbing against itself, friction pulling raw at his insides as acid ate at him.

It was. Bad.

It was bad.

Danny’s glad he’s not there anymore. Anyway, there’s a guy in the room who reads minds, and Danny doesn’t really want to share that memory with anyone ever; especially someone who could turn it back on him.

The stinky dad says something else, but he uses words too thick and long for Danny to understand. The green guy translates, pure conceptual recall brushing against Danny’s outer aura—Needs? Wants?

…Danny frowns.

Danny looks at Diana, who looks back at him. Wants, needs…? What?

“Do you need aniþing?” Diana whispers to him, which. You know. Mostly makes sense.

Does Danny…need anything? He has medical care, he has food, he has water, he has toys and brain teasers, even…he has people to hang out with, he has people who stretch his legs with him so that he can go back to normal…heck, he doesn’t even have to clean his own waste bag. There’s people who do that for him.

Like. What more could Danny ask for?

Danny shrugs. He just wants to heal up and run away. Maybe…maybe, if Diana is real and not just pretending to like him to keep an eye on him, she’d let him visit her later or something. Danny would do what Dani doe—did. What Dani…did. And he’d just go a bunch of places and come back when he wants to.

But. No. There’s nothing he really needs right now.

The pointy-eared guy and the green guy share a look and a couple quiet words. Danny flares his annoyance into the silence, but all he gets is a silent Apology/Apology, which isn’t answers.

Ugh. Danny leans over the arm of his wheelchair. This is kind of super boring; it’s more boring than it is frustrating, even.

The stinky dad guy says something else, and Danny feels the push and pull of something double ended tugging on the outer edge of his aura. Additional/information, giving/take?

Danny really wishes he’d brought a fidget toy or something. His nerves are ramping up but all he can do is contort his fingers together, feeling the strain in and the joints click as he pushes them together and twists them apart. They want…to ask him questions? No, they’re already asking him questions. They want Danny to…give them questions??

…Danny doesn’t really want to. Still, he probably…should.

“The…space station,” he says, using the wrong word for their big space building but not knowing the better one; “Is this…where…why is it?”

The black-caped dad grumbles something vaguely approving. A tablet pops out of the table—spooky—and the guy starts drawing on it, explaining all the way. The green guy simplifies more of the verbally complicated concepts for Danny as they go.

Anyway. So they’re in space because it’s their…job? Danny thinks? They do…fighting stuff. Which Danny knew. Because he’d seen them on the news.

But it looks like they do a lot of things—they clean up after storms, and chase regular bad guys and super-bad-guys instead of just big ones. And they stop bad aliens from hurting people on Earth.

The green guy shifts from a green-looking, pointy-headed, red-eyed form to a warm, brown, human skin tone. And even. Like. Human clothing.

Danny stares.

…And the guy immediately takes back his natural form, his body physically shifting and morphing, which, fair, but holy crap. He’s living, on Earth. He passes as normal, on Earth. No one snitches on him. No one’s selling him to the government for parts. No one’s trapping him in a cage and not feeding him.

This guy works here, and everyone lets him.

Danny shifts in his chair. He…he wants that. He wants that. He wants to pass as human and not have to worry about…about anyone getting rid of him. He wants to go back to school. He wants to hide, and never ever not ever be found by anyone or anything when he does.

“I want that,” Danny says. There’s no inflection. He feels dead. He is dead, but usually he doesn’t feel it. “What do I do for…that.”

Help/Searching/Finding? the green—alien—questions, but there’s nothing for Danny to find. He knows exactly where everyone he loves is—and unless they’re already fully formed in the ghost zone…

…Well. Danny has forever to wait and see if he’ll see his friends and sister again. Maybe he’ll find them again one day, in a world purely green and glowing.

He shakes his head.

The next question comes…softer. Gentler. The mental push feels more like a breeze than a gale. Friends…Home/family?

The question comes tinged with all sorts of sensations that Danny’s suppressed—warmth, security, happiness, oxytocin, fondness, pride and being the source thereof, warmth and love, love, love—

Danny’s sweating. He can’t stop. His hands are shaking faster than usual—he kicks the brakes off his chair with the heels of his palms, and jerks the wheels back, pulling away from the desk—

He’s halfway across the room before he hears the noise. It’s just. Noise. It’s Diana, carefully shushing the loud heartbeat churning in his ears, hands on his hand, trying not to cage him but trying to keep skin on skin contact. Her hand is on the back of his hand, and on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Diana whispers. Danny’s shaking. His whole body is shaking. “Shhh, sh sh sh. It’s alright, it’s okay.”

It’s not it’s not it’snoit’snotit’sNOT. His sister is dead. His friends are dead. His parents sold his captors the equipment to catch him and they didn’t care if he got hurt doing it and now they’re DEAD. They tore open his hometown down the middle just to catch him, they stole him—they took his dead parent’s things as tools to hurt him—they HURT HIM and there isn’t—he can’t—he can’t—

Something is holding him down, and Danny thrashes. He has arms, but they’re injured—he has legs but he needs a tail and he—and—

He cries into Diana’s arms, sobbing and wailing. It’s a miracle that the building stays together. She holds him tighter, and he cries even harder into her soft under-layers.

He wants to run away. He needs to run away. Someone is holding him, and he can’t even flicker through her the way he wants to; his core is already too strained just from talking.

Danny’s sick. He’s dying. He’s—

“Take a breath,” Diana whispers, calm and sure. She models it for him. Danny gasps in air. “Good. Lete it out slow. As bobbels in a straw.”

He tries to copy her he does and she’ll be so angry if he can’t do it right on the first try but she lets him try, over and over again, until Danny’s able to stop hiccupping and leaking tears and ectoplasm all over her and realize that she’s holding him like a baby. Like. Actually cradling him against his body armor.

…You know what. He’s too tired to even be embarrassed. Screw that. Danny leans all the way over her and goes completely limp. Someone else can deal with his him for a little bit.

She does. Diana just…holds him.

It’s nice. Mom and Dad used to do that for him, when Danny was still…more human, he supposed. More than he is right now.

Something else touches his hand. Danny looks blearily downwards.

The teenager’s dad gets to his knees and takes Danny’s hand—and he doesn’t need the translation to understand.

“I’m sorry,” the man says, over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Danny blinks sleepily. What does his friend’s stinky dad have to be sorry for? He didn’t even do anything to Danny in the first place.

Danny won’t remember, afterwards, being wheeled back to his room for a nap. They must have wheeled him back, though, because the alternative is that Diana tucked him into bed like a baby, and that’s just kind of embarrassing to even think about for too long.

[disillusioneddanny]

DPxDC Negativity

Hey this is just a friendly reminder that I'm going to put in the plainest terms that I can.

If you are telling people how they should and should not participate in fandom you are GATEKEEPING

If you are telling people that they need to read more comics before writing fanfic you are GATEKEEPING

If you are telling people that they need to do more research into canon in any form, whether that be reading wikis, reading comics, watching shows, whatever you are GATEKEEPING

If you are telling people that what they are writing is not canon compliant and therefore not a valid way to participate in fandom you are GATEKEEPING

Fandom is supposed to be fun

Fanfiction is supposed to be fun

We are not writing these stories for anyone but ourselves. And to tell someone that they are participating in fandom wrong is GATEKEEPING

There are plenty of fanfics in the DC only sphere and the DP sphere that are so far away from canon it's unreal and that's totally okay!

People are allowed to enjoy fandom in however the hell they please. If that means they are writing a crap ton of Batfam/Danny Phantom content and not very much Justice League/DP content, that's totally okay.

If someone read the Wayne Family Adventures Webtoon and decided that they want to write Danny being adopted into a loving and crazy Batfamily that is totally one hundred percent fine.

If someone wants to write Danny with abusive and neglectful parents guess what? they can.

If they want to write Vlad as being a nurturing and loving godfather to Danny, they can.

What I'm trying to explain to you all is that it's okay to write things that are not canon compliant. It's okay to write things that are so far away from canon it's not even recognizable--I mean have you even read a fantasy au or a no capes au? That's basically just slapping a characters name and face to an OC. And guess what? THAT'S OKAY.

It's also okay to want to see more people interact with the canon lore, to want to share resources and tell people about your special interests. But the moment you start doing it and it makes people feel bad-- even if that is not your intention you are GATEKEEPING.

Gatekeeping is defined as the activity of controlling, and usually limiting, general access to something.

By you telling others what they should and should not write, you are being a gatekeeper.

I get it, you want to share lore, you want to show that you know all these cool things about DC. You want more than just batfam and DP content. That's totally valid and really cool.

Do it yourself.

Don't take someone else's joy away simply because it's not what you want to see. They aren't writing it for you, they're writing it for themselves. You're just a lucky person who gets to see the beautiful works that they are putting time and effort into.

When I joined DPxDC I knew absolute shit about DC. Over the last year, I've read over 400 issues of the Batman comics, read all of the Red Robin series, and a smattering of random other comics with plans to read others. But when I started writing? I knew jackshit. My knowledge came from the Teen Titans cartoon, the Batman animated series, and vague memories of watching the Justice League animated series as a kid.

And if Dis from a year ago saw this gatekeeping shit, they would have never started writing for the fandom because they would have been too scared to be told they were doing it wrong.

Now? I'm writing DC only fics based off of what I learned in the comics and it's a lot of fun.

But I did that because I wanted to, I was starting to get more and more interested in DC and I wanted to know more. And I had access to pay for DC Infinite so that I could get access to the comics. Not everyone has that luxury.

Not everyone has the luxury of being able to read them from free sites either. Maybe they have to use a public computer that doesn't have ad blockers. Maybe their local libraries don't have access to the comics. You don't know what their situation is.

Maybe you're being well intentioned. Maybe you're just wanting to share your wealth of knowledge with the fandom. But remember, if just one person is getting hurt by your statements, that means you're no longer being helpful. You're being harmful. You're scaring off a new fan who was super insanely excited to start sharing their headcanons.

You're making people feel unwelcome. And that's not fucking cool.

Fandom is supposed to be a welcoming space for everyone, it's supposed to uplift and bring joy. Not make people feel bad for not knowing enough, or for feeling too anxious to even begin figuring out where in the 75 year history of DC they should start reading.

I know that's what kept me from reading the comics for a long time. it was just too overwhelming. It still is overwhelming for me and thats with having friends telling me where to start and what comics are best to read.

Before I end this super hella long rant I want to remind you of one last thing.

You don't know what someone has read or researched before writing their fic. You don't know just how much they know about that character or universe. For all you know, they may have read, watched, consumed every single piece of DC media in existence. But they may still interpret it different than you did and that does not mean that their Bruce Wayne is OOC because it doesn't align with how you interpret Bruce Wayne. it just means that they view his character differently than you do.

And that's such a beautiful fucking thing don't you think? That a single character, a single universe, a single fucking line can be interpreted hundreds of different ways by hundreds of different people and it's still valid.

It's what makes fandom so freaking cool in the first place.

Like one day someone woke up and they were watching Danny Phantom and they thought hm, what if I had Danny Fenton go to Gotham one day and hang out with the bats? And next thing you know, now we have thousands upon thousands of different fanfics, fan art and HCs, all because of it. All because someone had that one idea and shared it and others saw it, interpreted it their own way, and decided to create even more.

And now we're here! And this fandom is beautiful and thriving. There are so many amazing and lovely people in this fandom. There are so many discords to talk about fandom, there's so many events, a DPxDC Bang is the works, a DPxDC fanzine is in the works.

That's so fucking cool and we should be celebrating that! Not making others feel bad for not knowing as much as others.

[nothomegal]

Mmm, this isnt a fic request (or maybe yes) but i NEED for reader to break and finally give in for their cuddle session with Danny, oh! And finally start to fall in love with him

Aww you're right anon! I guess it's only the matter of time for the reader to eventually give in and accept the weird ghost guy that keeps sneaking into their life (and house).

And I know it took me way too long to do your request, I apologize for the wait, had some trouble writing this since I never liked how it turned out -.-' Luckily though, I think I finally got something decent!

"Favorite person"

(Ghostface x GN Reader)

Summary: everyone has a limit, and unfortunately today is the day you reached yours as life wasn't all too kind to you for the last 24 hours... But hey, at least your dear intruder has your back, so not everything is that bad! Right, doll?

Warnings: mild example of unhealthy and obsessive behavior, the rest it's all fluff.

Word count: 2.2k

The grip around (Y/N) remained tight. The intruder kept holding their tied form closely in complete silence, something very out of his character.

But such oddness didn’t come from nowhere, and (Y/N) was the one who indirectly caused it. Today was probably the worst day of their life, everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong. It's honestly incredible they still had the emotional strength to return home without bursting into tears on their way.

They’re not quite sure how or when they fell asleep, their mind been a mush of blur since they entered their home. All they can remember is waking up already laying in bed with their arms tied behind their back and their body pressed against the chest of the masked man, the same one that would often come to mess with them.

Sometimes he would reveal himself willingly and others just stay in the shadows and observe them from afar or straight from the corner while they’re in a deep sleep.

This night however, apart from tying their hands, he haven't done anything from his previous visits. No cheeky remarks about anything specific they did that day, no rants about some random topic and no attempts to scare or tease them... Heck, he didn't even run his hand through their hair or body. Absolutely no additional touches beside holding them close.

This really threw (Y/N) off. Ghostface, who's been a huge pain for them, the authorities and basically everyone in the town, was... Acting so thoughtful, nothing like the selfish villain he's been portraying himself as for the past numerous nights.

It's not the first time he hugs and holds them in his arms, he's actually super touchy with them and never fails to express his amusement of how helpless they always look. But now?... Now it doesn't feel like any of his shenanigans, but a genuine attempt to comfort them while not pushing too much, though the effectiveness of said attempt remains questionable.

Their thoughts and wonders were interrupted when they feel movement and then something grab their chin to then gently move their head up until they're face to face with that unsettling mask that resembled a ghost.

—“Feeling better?"—

They don't make a sound, quite the opposite, they press their lips in a thin line as they stare into the dark eyes of his mask.

—"If I take off the tape, will you talk to me?"—

Their body tensed at such question. Is he... Is he actually going to?...

—"Of course as long as you don't try anything funny... But you know better."— he leans closer to your face. —"Right, (Y/N)?"—

They gulp nervously, but Ghostface is right, they do know better than to gamble with their luck. Besides, they have no energy to fight or struggle anyways, so of course they'll play along... For now, at least.

With a more defeated look, they slowly nod.

The man releases a pleased hum and without a warning yanks the tape off of their moth, making them yelp from the pain and surprise.

—“There you go, hope it didn’t hurt too much.”— he snorts at your cringed expression.

—“It… It did… A bit.”— you mutter quietly. —“But not as much as a stab would…”—

The killer paused at the sound of their voice, but the calm was short as out the sudden he grabbed them by the chin again and squeezed their face a bit.

—"Aww, look, your first words.”— he remarks playfully before tilting his head. —“Well? Isn’t it just sweet to finally be able to talk, hmm?”—

(Y/N) remains quiet for a couple of seconds, unsure if they should speak again or not. But when It became clear that the interaction wouldn't progress without their contribution, they force themselves to talk.

—"I… Y-Yeah… It is nice."— you answer while studying his masked face. —"But… Please, don’t get too mad at me for replying slow... I'm not used to talk to... Killers, after all. {Or people in general...}”—

—"...Mad? At you? Oh silly..."—

His head then straightened and he squeezed their face a bit tighter.

—"You're so comically shy that I wish I could just cut you up and pull out some confidence out of your body."— he says in a playful tone, though it sounded way more sinister than intended. —"But it's not that you aren't good at speaking, it's the people you call 'friends' that made you believe that..."—

His tone then became significantly colder at the last part, which made (Y/N) tense and go quiet. But despite the dread, they couldn't help but agree with the killer, their friends indeed aren't as good as they thought.

It's another of the many bad things that happened to them today. They weren't supposed to discover it, they just got in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up overhearing the few people they thought they were close with talk about them. Nasty comment after comment, disgust and disrespect lingering in their tones as they said their name between insults and cruel jokes…

They didn't even bother to listen to the end of the conversation, they just fled the scene and did their best to not cry until they arrived home. And in the entire day, in this whole period of time they looked so pathetic and miserable, none of their other ‘friends’ bothered to see if they're alright or help with any other issue. Absolutely no one took a moment to even say 'hello', and that made (Y/N) feel the loneliest, like they're just a ghost in other people's life, being acknowledged only when they announce their presence.

They get pulled back to reality when the hand lets go of their face and their body is pressed closer to the masked man, making the embrace feel more intimate.

—"...Sorry I can't take the angst as easily as I take people out."— he mutters, his hand slowly traveling up and down your head. —"But I can prevent said angst in the future. These assholes will not disturb you again, I made sure they won't..."— his grip tightens, turning almost possessive.

A shiver traveled down their spine at his words.

They should be afraid, panic that this stranger so deliberately admitted of harming, and most likely murdering, their friends like it’s the most mundane thing to do. They definitely should at least freak out or give any other kind of distressed reaction, they should… But they don’t.

To be completely honest, they weren't even upset at what Ghostface did. After today's interaction their view on his character changed quite drastically. Though he still had that playful and cocky behavior, they now know that whenever he says or shows them care... It's genuine, or so they think. Could this be a trick to make them let their guard down? Definitely. Does it make sense? Uh... Not really, but this man likes to do odd things to throw off any bystander with his shenanigans.

But even if their strange relationship is just a game to him, then damn he's good at it. They almost feel like them matter, like they can be loved and it's just bad luck people around them can't see or appreciate them... Unfortunately though... They know it's not true, it can't be true, they're too pathetic for that, so much that even a psycho killer had pity over them to pretend-

A surprised gasp escaped (Y/N) when their body was suddenly flipped and tackled against the mattress, with Ghostface now looming over them.

They didn't even need to see his face to know what type of expression he had, the atmosphere was all it took to know he was upset.

—"I am not pleased with how you keep viewing yourself, (Y/N)."— he finally says after a pause. —"And I am certainly pissed that you're doing it around me."—

All (Y/N) could do is stare at the ghastly mask in dead silence. Despite having their mouth untapped, they couldn't bring themselves to make a sound, as if paralyzed from fear and anticipation of what he would do if they happen to upset him more.

When the killer began to lean down lowly, they held their breath by instinct.

—"I'll say this one time, and you better not force me to repeat it."— he said in a low and slow tone. —"You are my favorite person in this whole cursed world. And I swear if you dare to think badly about yourself again, I'll fucking stab you."—

He pauses, either letting his words sink in or re-evaluating what he just said or is about to say.

After not coming to a clear conclusion, he sighs with mild frustration.

—"I... Look. I'm aware of my reputation and the image you have of me. And though I do like to amuse myself with these visits of mine, not ones I did it to mess with you, not in the way you think..."—

He pauses again, the eyes of his mask staring directly into theirs, either studying their expression or thinking.

—"I wanted to end you ones..."—

As he speaks again in a lower voice as he extends his hand, aiming for their neck.

—"...But I don’t want it anymore."—

The hand was drastically redirected towards their face, covering their eyes in a quick movement. Whatever sound of surprise or confusion (Y/N) was about to make is shushed when something soft and warm was pressed against their lips, the sensation sending shivers through their body.

—"{Or ever again.}"—

That's all they heard before their eyes were uncovered and Ghostface plopped on the mattress right next to them, his head placed on his hand as he waits for their reaction.

(Y/N) can only cluelessly blink while staring at the ceiling, wondering if the warm sensation they just felt on their lips was actually Ghostface-...

Their face starts to get progressively redder as the realization kicks in. My god. Ghostface, from all people, actually!-

Their head snaps at his direction when that famous deep raspy chuckle left him, clearly entertained by the fifty shades of red their face is going through.

—"What? Never had a kiss stolen before?"— he teases.

—"I- Uh... No. Not really..."— you answer as you look away, face even redder.

—"Good, all for me then."—

Now it's (Y/N) who lets out a snort, finding his behavior silly yet quite charming. Huh, strange how quickly they moved on, the previous dread and fear they felt when he pinned them was now like a long forgotten dream...

Is the famous Stockholm syndrome affecting them already? Why are they suddenly so okay with his presence? Even when knowing about his mood swings they can't shake off this strange sensation of comfort...

Is it because his actions and intentions are now confirmed to be genuine? Because he really seems to like and cherish their company? Cherish them?...

...

...You know?

Fuck everything.

They're too tired for this 'BS' about morality and shit. It will be a tomorrow problem to overthink, now they should just give in and take this night to relax and... Well, maybe even put into use this little freedom of speech they got and actually chat to the man, maybe even get to know more about him.

They look at killer again, the dark eyes of his mask still fixated on their form as he observes them in silence, almost like he's looking at a piece of art rather than another person.

—"So... Are you going to stay here all night?"— you finally ask.

He's silent for a little while.

—"You want me to?"—

—"Kinda. You... You're not too bad of a company, I guess."— you shoot him a timid smile. —"And even if I didn't I doubt you would've leave."—

He lets out a snort at their last comment and then lies down, a bit closer to them.

—"You're right, you're now haunted by me either you want it or not."—

There is a small pause between them, both just laying and looking at each other, a strange atmosphere of calm now lingered in the room, making this moment feel oddly right.

Out of the sudden, they feel a pair of arms snake around their form and bring them ones again into that warm and intimate hug. And this time, they welcome the gesture by snuggling closer to the man and letting out a content sigh.

—"So."— he then says as he tilts his head to look at you, now in his arms. —"What's your favorite scary movie? I never got an answer to this question."—

—"Huh? Aren't you supposed to know that?"— you arch your brow. —"Y'know cuz of the whole stalker thing and all..."—

—"Yes, but want to hear you tell me that. I just really like the sound of your voice."—

They can feel their cheeks warm up, and they can't avoid to get even shyer when the man chuckles at their expression.

—"W-Well... I have a couple."—

At first they sounded awkward while speaking, as if expecting him to interrupt them or laugh at their preferences. Nevertheless, he never made a sound and seemed to pay close attention to what they're saying, sometimes even asking more things about the movies when given the opportunity. Overall, Ghostface is a very nice guy to talk about any kind of nerdy horror stuff!

At some point, they even forgot that the man holding them was a serial murder. It actually felt like talking to an old dear friend rather than a criminal.

And as they talk through the night, (Y/N) finally understands why Ghostface always became so touchy and clingy whenever he had a bad day.

Cuddles and rants indeed help, especially if done with your favorite person.

And though they're certain he's not one yet... Just by seeing how the night progresses.

They wouldn't be too surprised if he somehow sneaks his way into such spot.

[dairy-farmer]

Hi!

So, I love very very much sweet is the lullaby over your nest and I just want to know moreeee

Like, what do they do with the baby? Tim gets to live in the manor with his pack or he goes to another place? What are Damian's thoughts now that he knows his pack omega didn't want him bc of the loss of his puppy? What does Steph do knowing his ex boyfriend needed her and she took Robin away from him when he most needed her? What about Cass? Did she knew? And Dick, will he kinda step up now that he wants to change his relationship with Tim for the better?

answered out of order:

sweet is the lullaby over your nest is definitly on the more emotionally heavy end of the spectrum of fics ive written and i ended it in a way where i tried to communicate that the entirety of the family was going to be in for a REALLY bad time once everyone finally understood what had been happening.

tim is in a very precarious place, he's been distant from the pack for awhile so as for him staying in the manor or leaving i definitely think if i continued that would be the main conflict that would distressing the pack- the uncertainty of tim possibly leaving. because tim wants his baby to be safe, that's non negotiable to him. but if jason is coming around around the manor and possibly crossing paths with his baby then he'll up and leave if not to his own apartment then to san francisco. also tim likely still has lingering fears that maybe bruce will side with jason or that he might stake a claim on tim's pup. omegaverse legal fuckery means that bruce COULD essentially file for custody of tim's pup and tim has that in the back of his mind because bruce has loose moral and if he thought tim might leave them then he might file to keep danny in order to get tim to stay with them so that would be tim's fear during the fallout (that move would also probably be something bruce considers later on before someone tears into him, probably dick or alfred, for even considering it)

tim's pup is also going to struggle with some pretty severe attachment issues- he hasn't gotten a chance to bond, he's been in an orphanage until then, he has basically been emotionally neglected during a vital developmental time because there simply weren't resources to nurture pups after bludhaven. so there'd be some complex issues in store for tim where he greatly missed his baby and is desperatly attatched but tim's baby is scared and confused and maybe struggling to develop a bond with his mama and the instincts are making it worse and more confusing. so sad times for tim and his baby where they're desperately trying to form this connection years later after they were separated. all while tim is trying to make sure they don't get separated again.

for cass and dick their reactions can be summarized in a word: gutted. dick would definitely spiral terribly before forcing himself to get it together once its clear that bruce is borderline catatonic because bruce would NOT deal well with what he's learned at all. maybe he could twist his brain around enough to find excuses for jason's actions, for finding a way to say that jason was different from murders or mercenaries. but he can't excuse or ignore jason's actions with this, that he has to DO something about this, punish jason for this like how batman would demand he punish him. that if jason were a different cape, if he were a league member and this had been discovered then bruce wouldn't hesitate then but this? its an "ethical dilemma" of bruce's nightmares. if he punishes jason he might lose him if he doesn't he might lose tim, or maybe he'll lose both whether he does something or not. bruce is just trying to find a way to keep his family together but that's simply not possible in this case.

cass would feel gutted because she KNEW something was off about tim, knew he was in immense amount of pain but she'd chosen to leave gotham anyway. dick is ruined because his brother, who he'd been having a tense relationship with for over a year, had been raped, had had a baby and he he hadn't told dick. even before their relationship went to shit he hadn't told dick which meant that maybe their problems had been deeper and goingt on for longer than dick had realized. but tim had told him danny was HIS baby, he'd smiled at him so sweet and dazed and his scent brimming with joy.

even though things had been so rough between them he'd told dick about his baby, he'd SHOWN dick his baby and...dick has done wrong by tim. he's been failing him for a while, and clearly longer than he'd realized so when everything spills out dick is firmly in tim's corner because he's not messing up with him again. he's not going to make tim feel alone ever again, even if tim hates him, dick will be on his side. dick had messed up with jason, maybe that relationship had shivered a long time ago and there was no recovering it because he hadn't avenged him but tim- he can still do right by tim.

damian feels neglected, had for a long time because tim was an omega and BY INSTINCT that meant he should've been damian's caretaker. his provider. he should be the one defending and protecting him from other pack members hassling him, taking food from him, or attempting to harm him because omegas are the den keepers who protect the young, ill, and defenseless and tim hadn't. he hadn't done his job, he never responded to damian's pup cries and outright avoided him at times. he defied instincts to avoid caring for damian and so that of course created bitter feelings for damian, when tim had been disressed and clicking a clear call of 'pup! come to me!' and damian had responded, STILL he'd been brushed aside for what clearly held all of tim's affections. a younger, smaller, weaker pup. a pup that was barely weaned and the omega had chosen THAT over him. i don't think the pack would discolose to damian the circumstances, i think they'd try to shield that knowledge from him given his age but that would just lead to more problems and breed more resentment.

steph would also be in sort of the same boat as dick only that she'd been voicing her issues. she'd been upset and hurt that tim had yet to forgive her or even hear her out about her faking her death or anything from teh last year, she, like cass, had noticed tim had changed but had thought it was just HER he was treating like that. stephanie has a tendency to see things as being sort of her-centric so her realizing that she hadn't been the root of any issues, that she probably hadn't even been a thought for what tim had been struggling with and that tim likely hadn't had faith or trust in her for A WHILE since she hadn't known anything about this would definitely put her a weird limbo over everything.

the situation with jason is definitly complex. because jason is in a situation where one of the things he considers to be the most deplorable things a person can do is now something he's guilty of, out of his mind or not that was still HIM. maybe some weird primal version but still him that was capable of and did that. jason has always been, to an extent suicidal after becoming red hood, if not passively suicidal. coming back to life and coming back in a way he could just feel was WRONG fucked him up in ways he never really adressed, he just distracted himself from it. learning this definitely sends jason down a very dark place mentally. i think once everything starts spilling out jason leaves, doesn't explain himself, doesn't deal with the fall out he just leaves to put distance between himself and try to figure out what to do. i do think jason wants to die after learning what he's done. i think the level of revulsion he'd feel and the hatred he'd feel towards what has occurred would do something to him. jason doesn't believe rapists deserve second chances, he doesn't believe they can be rehabilitated or fixed and he doesn't believe they deserve to live. i do think maybe the only one that could maybe reach jason though his mental spiral would be roy. maybe dick calls roy because he knows jason might do something though he wasn't sure what. that exchange would definitely be a tough one once roy found him holed up somewhere. roy at that point would be trying to argue against jason's own self-destruction. i have thought about how their exchange would play out but its a tough piece of dialogue to really pin down.

jason saying how if he were anyone else, if he were just some random fuck from the street standing on a ledge that that roy wouldn't be trying so hard to talk him down, that he might even goad him to do it.

and roy doesn't deny that. he admits it. but he also admits that jason is different from other pieces of crap. that he tries to leave places better than he found them, that he has empathy for people that are otherwise discarded.

i think that roy's history with drug addiction and his path to recovery, him struggling with his own feelings of self hatred and the person he was would let him get to jason when he tells him that self forgiveness is bullshit. that thing he's read in self help books and pamphlets about learning to forgive your self are worthless to people like them. because roy knew that 'forgiving' himself for fucking himself up so bad wasn't what he needed. forgiveness felt too permissive, like he was basically giving himself a pass for the shitty things he did and the people he hurt and the things he did that he could never take back or fix. roy lays it out for jason and tells him that he owes it to the people he wronged to spend the rest of his life making up for it. even if it makes no difference, even if they never want to see him again- that's his punishment. he doesn't get to die and let himself off easy, he has to work.

the situation with danny would also be difficult but the one thing that jason and tim agree on whether they know it or not as that neither of them wants danny to know what he came from. jason has seen how fucked up kids produced from rape are, the way the light in them just...dies when they realize what they were born from. and tim knows that too. he knows the statistics, he knows the impact it will have on his pup's mental health and wellbeing at knowing. so for his sake, jason learns to swallow back this shredded pain at his chest when tim tells an older danny that his father is dead.

i don't think that jason would want the pup to know him or view him as a father. i think he'd find it disrespectful to tim especially since tim wanted nothing to do with him.

i think jason would always be in the background, trying to make up for something that's impossible to make up for. doubling his effort to keep gotham clean and safe so that tim's pup doesn't have to worry about getting snatched off a playground or felt up by a dirty cop or any of the things that jason saw or went through as a kid.

i think he'd try. just smelling him that one time left jason struggling with his emotions and instincts and everything. whenever tim would be out or around gotham jason would leave the city to give them space, he''d be in an airport and see stuffed animals and toys and things that would've called to him as a kid and..in weakness he'd mail them knowing that tim would probably throw them out but just not being able to fight the need to...provide something.

he stumbles a lot in this new life purpose of seeking to repent. he offends tim by offering him money, angers him by sending clothes, makes the mistake of trying to talk to tim about things that don't relate to their caped duties because tim does continue to cooperate and work with jason he just won't allow any talk of his pup and the fact that tim continued to work with jason makes everyone and especially jason uncomfortable because it just feels wrong.

everything following the reveal is definitely complicated and difficult for everyone involved and its something that would make for a very long fic to do it.

but like i mentioned in the notes i think after years and years and tim's pup grows up to resemble jason in more than one way i think its possible that maybe when tim see jason the first thing he feels isn't hatred. i don't think its ever quite indifference either i think its sort of an 'okay. this is how things are.'

depite being tagged jaytim i don't think it ever can really bloom to that, just too much hurt and pain is tied up in between them. i think if jason ever developed feelings he'd hate himself for them and if tim ever developed feelings he'd be distressed and have sort of a deep mental distress over it. i think it would distress and freak the two of them out too much. them having a pup together however also ties them together in a way the two of them can never really untangle. maybe its why the two of them never really feel comfortable getting mates or siring other pups. tim because danny's birth was deeply traumatic to him in a way he never fully processes and jason because "starting a family" and playing at happy family feels too much like he'd be mocking what he did.

in a way titans tower continues to haunt them for the rest of their lives even if danny grows up happy and better than they ever thought they were each capable of.

i think both of them struggle deeply with it, both of them wish more than anything that it had never happened but at the same time see this sweet and happy child and feel twisted and conflicted about it.

the tragedy for jason and tim is that the only person who can really understand their pain is each other

[bluerockcandy]

Ok but like picture this:

CW is the personification of time, hes a time god, so while he can stop time, speed up, slow down, he isnt always consciously aware of the speed of time. BUT, lets think of time as a part of him. So, when he likes people, wants them to succeed, even peripherally, time seems to be in their favor.

People often say oh time flies when you’re having fun and drags when you’re not. What if this were actually true. CW isnt always focusing on the people he likes, but time is him so it also favors these people. They will always just make it to class right before the bell or save someone just in time, an attack will be a second too slow.

For danny, however, CW is basically a grandfather. CW loves danny. So time is like an eager puppy that wants to please him. If hes having fun with his friends and thinks, i wish it could always be like this, time fucking dilates for him, it really does go slower. When hes bored time speeds up just a little bit.

That was a long ass lead up to my fic idea but anywayss. Imagine danny gets old, time passes, but not really for him. Its probably a mix of being a ghost and CW being his grandfather, but hes stopped aging at some point. He loses his sense of time. When its always stopping and starting and speeding along and slowing down, it tends to lose some of its meaning. So he lives and lives until one day he realizes the world has completely changed around him. He’s become something of a homebody, staying in his home for months at a time, imaging the stars, recording star maps, generally enjoying his life.

Theres a knock at the door. More of a thud, really, and when he goes to check it out, he finds a man- a man bat? -slumped against his door. He’s baffled. But the man- man bat? -is injured, so he brings him in.

He tries to take the armor off, before giving up it just phasing it off of the guy. Not all of it, he leaves the cowl over the top of the face and the underclothes stay put, he’s not disrespectful, thanks you very much. He does what he can to patch the guy up. Its much easier to do on someone else rather than himself. The man bat guy doesn’t seem to be badly injured, a broken ankle, a fractured wrist and bruised ribs, but what really seems to have taken him out is a bad concussion, he guesses, judging by the fat ugly knot on top of the dudes head.

It is no matter, he thinks, he will just have to stay here and recover. And so danny drifts off, to put some food aside for his unexpected guest and to get back to work.

He genuinely forgets about the guy until he hears a thump. Trying to sneak out, the man bat has fallen. Now, normally, theres no way in hell Batman would have fallen. But when he’s seeing in quadruple and his head pounds with every beat of his heart, he can probably forgive himself for this little mistake. Maybe.

Danny floats on up to him.

Wait

Y am i writing this all out lol. I was just gonna outline my idea and dip 😭.

Basically, he helps bats recover, but finds he really likes hanging out with him. So time comes into play and slows down, just for them. When bruce is finally healed and can reach out to someone, the world has changed again. Shit went down in gotham. The city has changed. He doesnt understand at first. Its not really wirher of their faults, but hes- he doesnt know how he feels, sad, mad, frustrated, at a loss. He feels it all, in great detail, and it weighs heavily on him. But well, hes made friends with danny in the years- years???!! - hes been with danny. He goes back. They make up and stay together til bruce succumbs to old age bc he isnt the same as danny. Nvr was and wasnt going to be but at least they could enjoy their time together. The end.

[new-revenant]

In a Random Alleyway in Norrisville (2730 words) by FeverProject Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Danny Phantom, Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Randy Cunningham & Danny Fenton Characters: Randy Cunningham, Danny Fenton Additional Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Danny Fenton Has A Bad Time, Randy Cunningham Has A Great Time, that basically summarizes the fic ngl, Mentioned Guys in White | GIW (Danny Phantom), Blood and Injury, it doesn’t happen IN the fic but Danny is not doing too good, Generous Use of Ellipsis(…) Summary: For the @dp-crossover-angst-week-event on Tumblr. Prompt - July 9th: Bleeding out in an alleyway. DPxRC9GN crossover. It’s not too angsty-I mean Danny’s having a terrible time, but Randy is Randy, he’s having a great time.

Fic on here under the cut:

Randy loved patrolling. Well, only sometimes. He definitely loved playing Grave Puncher more than patrolling most days. Thankfully, this was one of those days where he was having a honkin' good time. It was just so fun to parkour up and down and all around the buildings in his town, how could he not love that. How could he not love being The Ninja period? Sure it was definitely frustrating and unfair some-well, most times if he was being honest, but still, he was The Ninja, how bruce was that?!

Now, being Norrisville’s protector, he obviously had to help the people he came across who needed his help. Like, rescuing a kitten stuck in a tree, or stopping some random purse snatcher. The usual things people are in need of.

Helping out a guy that was bleeding out in an alleyway? That was new.

Randy was perched upon the edge of a rooftop, looking down at the bleeding, humanoid figure. He has bright white hair and tan-ish skin, and was in this weird, black and white, skintight suit. It kind of reminded Randy of a hazmat suit, if only the hazmat suit was severely shrink wrapped and was painted with tar.

And he was glowing. That. That was not normal for normal humans to be doing. His blood was also glowing. And green. Randy leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the guy. Unfortunately, he leaned forward too much, and swiftly fell off the roof, bumping on everything he could’ve possibly bumped on on his way down. He landed right next to glowing guy.

Randy shook himself off as he sprang up, looking at the guy. The boy looked back at him, eyes slightly unfocused with a bit of glowing, green blood coming out of his mouth. They looked at each for a moment, Randy being confused about what to do. He carefully stepped back and around the boy, all the way to his other side. The boy’s eyes followed him, making Randy feel a bit uneasy. But he was The Ninja, he’ll be fine.

Randy crouched down, scratching his chin in thought. “You don’t look Stanked…” Randy mumbled, a bit loudly, “but you definitely don’t look like a normal human either…”

The odd boy blinked at him, confusion evident on his exhausted face. He mumbled something back, but Randy couldn’t hear it. So he leaned over his face, ear a few inches from the boy’s mouth.

“What you say? You feeling shnasty?”

“What?” the boy croaked, “Wha-what words?”

“Hmm? You don’t know what ‘shnasty’ means?” Randy pulled away from the boy, looking down at him, “Must not be from here then, am I right?”

“…Yeah, yeah.”

“Alright! Now, how about you tell me where you’re from, and I’ll get you back, free of charge. I would take you to a hospital or something, but I don’t think they would take…this well.” He gestured all over the glowing boy’s body.

“Ha!” The boy coughed a bit, “They definitely wouldn’t.”

“Say, do you think you’re going die…soon, if you’re untreated? Because I don’t want any preventable deaths in my conscience. You seem like you’re a…teen? As well, so that would definitely make me feel worse.”

The boy laughed at that, and Randy couldn’t help but smile underneath his mask. Making other people feel better-emotionally or physically-feels great! Great for his conscious.

“Well, I’m already dead, so, I’ll probably get better soon.”

“You’re what?”

“Dead. I’m a ghost. Name’s Phantom, just escaped a ghost hunting group. You…aren’t with them, right? You aren’t wearing white, so I don’t think you are.”

“Huh.” Randy blinked a few times, trying to figure out what was just told to him. “So your name’s Phantom, you’re a…ghost, and you escaped from white-wearing ghost hunters?” Ghosts definitely weren’t the weirdest thing he’d encountered, but it wasn’t within his usual territory.

“Yep,” Phantom said with a pop to the p, “they stopped before I got here, yelling about some crazy ninja in town. Guess that’s you, huh?”

“Exactly! That’s me, The Norrisville Ninja! But you can just call me, ‘The Ninja.’”

“Great, fantastic,” Phantom let out a sigh, “Guess I have you to thank for my short reprieve. Hurray.”

“Yep! You don’t seem too concerned about those hunters though.”

“I’m more concerned about how uncomfortable the ground is.”

“Oh! Let me help you with that,” Randy lifted Phantom up by his armpits, moving him over to a wall to lean on. He was surprisingly light for a ghost-actually, he would’ve been surprisingly heavy for a ghost.

Randy stepped back to observe his work, seeing how he successfully managed to prop up the ghost boy. He looked unamused, for some bizarre reason. Randy stepped a bit closer to observe Phantom’s injuries, and a few were still bleeding. With his quick thinking, he figured out a solution to this. His scarf was magical, like the rest of his suit, and could regenerate after being cut. Which meant he had an infinite supply of makeshift bandages!

Moving quickly, Randy ran around Phantom, holding up his scarf to measure the wounds. Phantom eyed him, confused as ever.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Phantom asked.

“I’m giving you some certified Ninja-Scarf-Bandages!” In a swift motion, he cut up his scarf with his sword into numerous pieces of various sizes, showing them off to Phantom. After a moment, he gave the ninja a thumbs up, and Randy quickly wrapped the ghost up.

“Feeling any better?” Randy asked after he was done.

“Nope.”

“Great! I-I mean, not great. Yeah.”

Phantom laughed again, and it was great until he started coughing. Then he coughed some blood, which was definitely not great.

“That’s shnasty. Which is…probably not the appropriate thing to say right now, but it’s fine,” Phantom laughed at that-he seemed to laugh a lot for a bleeding guy, but he was also already dead, “A-uh, anyways…I have no idea what to do now. I guess you can stay? Here? Until…I dunno, it’s safe?”

“…Really? You’ll…just let me stay here?”

“Sure if you just don’t bother anybody here. I don’t think they would be too happy about a ghost roaming around, you know?”

“Oh I know, ha. You’re…a weird ninja. It’s weird for a ninja to be…roaming around right?”

“Well yeah, but I’m not just any ninja, I’m The Norrisville Ninja. I’ve been the protector of this town for around, I dunno, 800 years?” He said the last part with a smile. Even though he wasn’t actually the ninja for 800 years, the mantle having been passed onto him a little less than a year ago. Still, he had to keep the charade up, it’s safer and also brucer that way.

“800 years?!” Phantom shouted, which made him cough.

“Yep! You seem like you could have some water with all that coughing you’re doing. Wait, can ghosts drink? Or eat?”

“Oh, yeah, I can. Don’t need to but I can,” his voice was very raspy now, “Then I’ll talk more, and stuff. Yeah.”

“Schweet! Do you have any money or something, I forgot my wallet.”

“Heh, yeah, okay. Just…buy me a burger as well,” Phantom stuffed his hand through his chest, pulling out a wallet.

“Oh. My. Cheese! That’s so honkin’ bruce! Your body is like a locker, I wish I could do that. Actually, I’m pretty sure my suit can do that…”

“Just take my money and help, please.”

Phantom held out a handful of dollar bills for the ninja to take. Randy gracefully took the money and counted them, and he could definitely buy more than a water and a burger with this much. Maybe ghosts didn’t understand the concept of money? Of maybe Phantom was just bad at math, or money. Or both.

“You know, you should be a bit more polite,” Randy chuckled as he stored the money in his scarf, right next to his sword. Phantom just looked at him blankly, clearly not amused. “Now, don’t move. I’ll be back in like, 10, 15-ish minutes? Depends on how long the line is, if there even is any.”

“Well, I can barely feel my legs, so I’m definitely not moving anytime soon.”

“At least you can still feel them, right?”

“…”

“Right?”

“…”

“…I’ll-I’ll be going now.”

“Good luck, don’t die.”

“Not planning on it! Smokebomb!” And in a pungent puff of smoke, The Ninja was gone.

….

Danny had no idea what he was going to do. Should he try to escape and pray that he would be able to get back home now, or should he wait and trust in this-apparently 800 year old-ninja, that promised to get him a burger. He was thankfully lucid enough to not mention the GIW by name, since who know what connections this ninja could have, but he did let slip that they wore all white. There was a reason some people called the the Guys In White, and the ninja could’ve picked up on that. He could’ve know that Danny was talking about them.

Was the ninja going to sell him out to them? Was this the end for this already half dead teenager? He couldn’t contact his family, his friends, no one could help him now. Even if this ninja was supposedly 800 years old and also this town’s protector, and if he really was on Danny’s side, could he stand a chance against the GIW?

Danny missed Amity Park, he missed his home. He had strayed too far-ever so slightly too far, far enough that the GIW felt comfortable to give chase. And give chase they did, Danny was sure that he was at leasttwo states away from his home. His family would be worried about him. His friends would be worried about him. How many days has it been? How long has he been gone? Was his family even looking for him yet? Would they ever?

Danny shook his head, he needed to stop thinking. Just stop. It wasn’t doing him any good. He just needed to wait, to hope, to yearn. His stomach churned, it had been wanting food for a while. How long was that while? Danny didn’t know, he couldn’t, he didn’t get the luxury to know, to know anything.

How long has The Ninja been gone? Would he ever come back? If he did, what would happen then? Anything good, anything bad? Where was he, where was him? Danny needed to move but he couldn’t. He was tired but he couldn’t sleep, not yet, not ever until he gets back home. Where was home? Where is he? Where oh where could anybody be? Danny wanted to cry but he couldn’t. He wanted to lie down but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything, he could want to do whatever he pleased. But nothing would come about from simply wanting. From simply yearning.

Nothing good comes from thinking.

A soft thud came from the right of Danny. He froze, anxiety spiking from the sound, from the typhoon of thoughts crashing down onto his mind.

“Heeyyy Phantom,” The Ninja said in a singsongy voice, waltzing in front of him, “I got two burgers! Well, actually three, but I ate it on the way here. Sorry, I was hungry ha ha.” He gave Danny a bag filled with burgers and a water bottle.

“It’s…fine,” Danny sighed. He didn’t really care that he ate a burger bought with his money, he was more peeved about the ninja almost giving him a heart attack.

But that didn’t really matter in the end, Danny should just focus on not starving. The water hadn’t been opened yet, he could tell by how he had to struggle to open the stupid thing. After a few sips of that, he grabbed one of the burgers. It was still wrapped up, looking thankfully untouched. After a few bites of that, he went back to his water. He did that a couple more times until he was finished with the burger. The Ninja had a hand outstretched, napkins in his hand.

“Thanks,” Danny mumbled as he took them.

“Ah, it’s no problem,” The Ninja waved him off, “Feeling any better now?”

“Yeah, actually. Thanks.”

“Alright! Now,” he yawned, “I dunno what to do next.”

“Same.”

“Oh! Wait, I remember you said you’d tell me where you’re from, right?”

“I think you just asked me to tell you-“

“Great! So can you tell me?”

Danny really didn’t want to him. But The Ninja didn’t seem hostile, the worst thing he’d done to him was that he ate a burger bought with Danny’s money, but honestly he deserved a little snack for all the trouble he went through for the ghost.

Danny let out a sigh, “I’m from Amity Park, Illinois.”

“Illinois? That’s like…a couple states over? I’m not that good at geography, ha.”

“I’m…okay at it, I guess. I’m not good at math though.”

“Oh I’m great at math! It’s fun.”

“You’re crazy.”

“And you’re just. Math. Dyslexic. I think that’s a thing.”

“That…would make a lot sense.”

“Glad I could help, yet again,” The Ninja smugly said as he plopped down next to Danny. “Now, how do I get you back to Illinois?”

“I’ll just take a bus or something.”

“Are there any buses that go to Illinois?”

“I don’t know man, I’m tired.”

“Hmm, maybe I could get you into a hotel or something. I’m very popular around here, a local celebrity you know?”

“Ha, yeah,” Danny rubbed his temples, considered his options. If he didn’t take the ninja’s offer, he would be sleeping on the streets, wandering the streets, or get jumped on the streets. He needed to get off of the streets.

“Alright,” Danny stretched his arms, “I’ll go with your plan. Just let me finish my second burger.”

“Schweet! Okay, now we just need to figure out how to make you stop glowing. And bleeding, that’s also important.”

“I heal quickly, my wounds will likely be gone after I finish this,” Danny told him as he unwrapped his burger, “Also, you’ll figure out how I’ll stop glowing soon, so don’t worry about it.”

“Okay then. Enjoy your burger,” The Ninja put his hand behind his head and rested them on the wall, closing his eyes. It would be the perfect time to run away, but Danny wasn’t planning on doing that now. He just had to place his trust in this ninja for now.

A few minutes passed, and Danny was done. He wiped his face and stuffed the napkins into the now empty burger bag. Well, before that he took out the remaining money he had given to the ninja, who had seemingly slipped it into the bag while he wasn’t looking. Into the chest wallet it goes.

“I’m ready,” Danny said as he attempted to stand up. He stumbled a bit, but thankfully he was right next to a wall.

“You good ghostie?” The Ninja asked, standing up much quicker than Danny could dream of at the moment.

“Y-yeah, just give me second.”

Danny stretched a bit after he regained his footing. He looked over at The Ninja and gave him a smirk, before he enveloped himself in a ring of light, transforming into his regular human form.

“Woah!” The Ninja shouted, “What the juice? You look…alive! And like a normal person in normal clothing!”

“Yeah, I can do that. Now, take me the hotel please. Before I pass out.”

“Right on it! I’ll carry you there, just don’t pass out before we get there.”

“I won’t make any promises.”

“Okay, kinda wonk but alright.”

“Half the words you say are nonsense, you know that right?”

“Ah, all words are nonsense, aren’t they? Now climb on my back.” He turned away from Danny and crouched down, turning his head to face Danny and pointed at his back. Danny groaned, he probably wasn’t going to enjoy this, but it’s fine. Sleep and safety would come soon, he just needed to focus on that. He didn’t need to think, he just need to focus on staying awake. He hopped on the ninja’s back, and in a few moments, they were off.

Danny was right in not making any promises about not passing out, as he was already sleeping soundly by the time they got to the hotel.

[stealingyourbones]

Your asks are back! Im prolly gonna send a few tomorrow bc its late and i have many idea but an idea that Wont Let Me Go:

Danny gets caught by his parents. They dissect him and jazz is the one to free him, but he has to go. Now. But where does he go?

Gotham. The drs fenton went there once and caused enough chaos to be banned from the city or else risk arkham. Its the one place they might not find him.

Danielle goes with him. Maybe shed hunkered down in gotham for a bit, maybe shes passing by amity when sht hits the fan. Either way, its her and danny. They figure it wont be too hard to get by. Break into an empty apartment and hide out there until they get caught, couldnt be too hard, right?

Too bad the building they go for is the one jason stays in, as a civillian, and hes got every apartment on his floor so that the risk of a neighbor seeing him as hood is minimal. Jason has to figure out how these kids got into the apartment and who is making them spy on red hood.

He does this by giving them the one thing kids in need cant afford to turn down- free meals. He invites them over to cook and teaches them how, both to see what hes dealing with and give them those skills once theyre out of whatever situation theyre in.

This goes on for a while before jason had the horrifying realization.

Hes turing into Bruce. Two kids in need with black hair and blue eyes who tense up when vigilantes are brought up? Hes never going to live this down. Probably frantically texts dick(?) About how hes turing into bruce and then doesnt elaborate

Unbeknowst to him, theyve secretly been "treating" him by acting as filters/replacing some of his extoplasm so he can be sure of his control over his feelings. This doesnt necessarily make him 100% calm all of the time, he still gets angry pretty easily, but. Jason gets control of himself back.

As they get closer they start being significantly more domestic. Somehow nobody has crashed jasons apartment while theyre there (they dip invisibly) and jasons relationship with bruce has improved as he no longer has to worry about pit rage taking over. Hes trying to figure out how to break the news to bruce that hes a grandfather even though he hasnt officially adopted them yet.

Dani, on the other side of town, is gossiping with a cool girl at the library named barbara about how shes been trying to figure out how to tell her neighbor that Hes Her Dad Now.

(Danny doesnt call him dad. He cant, anymore. But theyre still family)

Jason decides to introduce the topic of them meeting bruce (because 1. even though its still rocky their relationship has improved and 2. He wants it to be on his terms) and dani bursts out with the "I have a GRANDPA???????" and from there on commits to calling jason her dad and bruce (unmet) her grandpa.

Bruce meets them first and is just. In awe. He has grandchildren. His emotional constipation vs his absolute adoration of the fact hes a GRANDPARENT fight fight fight.

When danny and dani eventually meet everyone theyre all like oh sick bruce picked up a duo this time nice to meet you. And they absolutely cannot comprehend it when bruce and jason walk in and dani goes to jason first. Nobody expected jason to take on bruces adoption tendencies but they should have.

(Also fun hc i couldnt work in naturally but i do fully stand by- the ectoplasm in dannys body does affect his injuries somewhat, meaning he heals naturally very quickly from most ghost fights. Why?

It heales based on emotional healing.

He doesnt really care all too much about the average cut from one of his rogues and they heal within the day, but a hit from valerie takes a few weeks.

The first injury his parents ever gave him still hurts.

He can barely move and cant talk for the first few weeks with jason. Only once he starts feeling safe with him do the cuts start coming back together.)

The casualness of “hi so glad your asks came back” [drops at least 1k worth of fucking stellar content that’s basically a fic] is just making me truly awestruck. God I’ve missed seeing y’all’s neat ideas.

I dont have any words that I can say that could describe just how wonderful this is so I’ll write a lil addition to it instead because I am in love with this sm.

Jason’s point of view when he’s slowly getting better and isnt afraid to meet his family because of the pit rage, has he explained that’s the reason he distanced himself? Do the bats just think that this is simply Jason finally getting the courage to reach out? Do they know that the Pit rage is stopping Jason and do they try to help him by using alternative means of communication? How much do they help and understand.

When Jason experiences his first injury. How much does it hurt? Valerie shoots him with an ectogun. How much is this man in pain for and does he have to fight pit rage inside him to not lash out and attack her after being injured?

And how does his core react to his new kids. This I NEED to know

[pixiatn]

Danny & Duke Prompt/idea for y'all while I'm still trying to write my fic

Now I still don't know if I'm gonna include this in my fic, but I wanted to post it incase I didn't but essentially, Halfa/Quarta!Duke

Ok so basically Pariah Dark would be a halfa (until giving up his humanity/human half like Dan) and was sealed into the Infinite Realms by his brother, Gnomon The Eternal Light who was also a halfa, this in turn not only makes Duke part ghost, but also the biological nephew of Pariah Dark.

Duke has a very small amount of ectoplasm flowing throughout his body and also has a core much smaller/underdeveloped than other ghost and even halfas. He inherited abilities from both his father and his uncle resulting in him having a mixed core (light and dark [psh, ok y/n��🏽🙄])

Insert traumatized Danny attending Gotham Academy after running away for whatever reason👁️👁️, ahem, and staying in the schools dormitories. Danny's first day is going great, he woke up early, made it to class on time, and his classmates were being nice to him, maybe things here wouldn't be so bad. THEN FWOOSH, almost instantly Danny feels a powerful (and somewhat familiar) chill down and his ghost sense goes off and then he starts panicking, cause if he goes ghost then the GIW will know where he is, if he doesn't help then this ghost will seriously fuck up the school.

Bbg spends a bit too long in his head contemplating his options and feels this overwhelming presence get closer, he doesn't hear anybody screaming so thats good. It very quickly becomes not good when the presence comes closer and he realizes why it feels so familiar, it was an aura similar to that of Pariah Dark. Well great that's just fucking great, first day at a new school and he's possibly gonna get beat up by the former ghost king, which by the way, WHO THE FUCK LET HIM OUT-

Danny is thoroughly surprised though when it isn't a ghost capable of mass destruction that comes into the class but actually a rather cute boy his age (oh very pretty ghost guy ok) it isn't until Duke sits at a desk and people start talking to him does he realize (holy fuck this guy is like me)

During his lunch break Danny-boy slips into the Ghost zone to ask his lil ghost council (which consist of Pandora, Dorothea, Frostbite, Wulf, and Clockwork) if it's possible for two different ghost to have similar auras, Pandora states the each ghost aura is unique to that individual, the only way for two ghost to have similar auras is for them to be related

Great, so Danny's classmate is a relative of one of his strongest enemies, and former king of the Infinite Realms? Fucking great

Edit/update: On Dukes side, he finds himself rather drawn towards the pretty new boy in his class and he doesn't know why (it's bc unlike him, Danny has a shit ton of Ectoplasm running through and Dukes still developing core is drawn to that)

Anyway when he starts hanging out with Danny, his core starts absorbing the ectoplasm in the air surrounding him (which comes from Danny constantly exiting/entering the Ghost zone an using portals) which in turn helps Dukes core develop faster, making his powers stronger and granting him new ones

Meme time

[suttttton]

Oh gosh, so i just read your jonelias fic, the soulmate name one where Jon has Jonah magnus on his arm and he's all lonely. Boy did this entirely rewrite my brain actually. So i thought i'd ask, do you pretty please have some crumbs of how you think the story could wrap up? Like would elias try to woo jon? Would jon refuse him because, jonah magnus? Do you think the gang would find out about the whole body hopping thing at the same time as in canon or before, because jonah just drops the ball?

Also, maybe i just have piss poor reading comprehension (i kind of do tbh) but why did jon stop talking to the portraits after leitner's death? Did he just go like, oh that's creepy elias might be watching actually. Also i'm wondering what the tim&jon argument was about... Oh, them being trapped here because of jonah magnus himself? I guess that would explain it. Generally any tidbits of information you'll be willing to share, i want to hear it all i love this fic so much it's so good.

Would Elias in this au be more gentle and less willing to throw jon at every horror ever? Or is it sad toxic yaoi?

Sorry for rambling uwu ahah

(For anyone who doesn't know, this is the fic in question.)

I'm so sorry it's taken me 60+ business days to respond to you! This ask inspired me to write a little bit past the ending, which took some time, and then I got my job at puppy kindergarten and completely forgot about until.

UNTIL just now when I found it in my drafts, SO part of that is at the end of this answer under the cut.

To answer your other questions: Jon stops talking to the portraits because he finds out that Jonah Magnus was a Bad Person. Jon has been imagining Jonah as a character something like Gerry, burning the Leitner books and protecting people. After he talks to Leitner, he knows that Jonah was,,,,,,,,,,,, not that.

As for Tim and Jon's argument, I think during that s3 era of canon, they get into a lot of fights that basically boil down to "Tim is very angry that they're trapped here and Sasha is dead and Danny is dead, and Jon is his only available target." And in this world they have the added twist that Jon has been metaphysically assigned to The Evil Guy Who Started It All, which,,,,, does not help.

Thanks for your ask! I really like this story and it's been really fun thinking about it further.

EPILOGUISH:

The moment hangs suspended, Jon's eyes on the floor, Elias' locked on his own name scribed on Jon's skinny wrist like an accusation. His head spins with a rush of emotion, nothing he is prepared for, nothing he ever expected to feel again.

Then Jon's gaze flickers to his wrist, registers the alien colour, and his eyes widen and he jerks his hand away, shattering the silence. Jon cradles his wrist like it hurts, staring at it with his mouth slightly open.

Elias braces himself for Jon's gaze to come back to him, to look into his grey eyes and realize that they are far too old for his face, for him to make the connection. A moment passes, then another, and Jon just stares at his wrist, one of the immutable columns of his life suddenly upended.

Elias skims his mind, curious, and he has to stifle the urge to laugh.

Jon is thinking, with a racing mania that borders on panic, about ghosts.

Elias feels an enormous rush of tenderness towards him.

"I don't understand," Jon says finally, quietly. More to himself than to Elias. "This--this can't--"

Elias decides to twist the knife. "Perhaps our founder is pleased that you've aligned yourself with his god."

That gets Jon's attention, and he looks at Elias with fear in his eyes. Yes, yes, this is what has so thoroughly captured Elias' attentions these pasts few months. The way Jon's mind stutters and slips, trying to find purchase on his panic-smoothed thoughts. The way his eyes widen, showing off the lovely darkness of his eyes. The way he trembles and hates himself for it, his tight grip holding his control close.

Jon goes, and Elias' eyes follow him. He sits down behind his desk and smiles.

***

Jon doesn't register what Elias says to dismiss him. He simply rolls his sleeves down and returns to the Archives, avoiding his assistants like a man hunted. He sits down at his desk and his sleeve rides up his arm, revealing the accusingly black edges of his soul mark.

So he gets up and puts on his coat, the thicker sleeves making him feel more thoroughly covered, more protected from prying eyes. He sits down again and tries to relax, tries to turn his mind back to the research that so desperately needs to be done, the end of the world at stake--

His mind keeps wandering, imagining one of the others coming in and demanding to inspect his soul mark.

Never mind that no one has ever done that, that no one would ever do that. He can too clearly imagine what the reaction would be, if any of the others found out what has happened. Bad enough to have the name scrawled on his wrist; to have the bond suddenly, impossibly accepted? What ideas would the others draw from that? What conclusions could they possibly come to?

What if Tim saw it?

What if Daisy saw it?

What does it mean?

He gets up again and leaves the Archives, not sure where he's going, just sure that he needs to move. His mind is racing, and he clutches at his wrist like it hurts. Nothing makes sense, anymore, not that it was making much sense to begin with.

Nevertheless, the shock is familiar. All of it is a plunging from stability into cold loneliness, all of it terrifying. He doesn't want Jonah Magnus to accept the bond. He doesn't want Jonah Magnus to be a willing servant of evil. He doesn't want his soulmark to be grey and unnerving. He doesn't want any of this.

His wandering takes him past a portrait of Jonah because it's his Institute, and they are unavoidable. Jon has been trying to avoid their gaze since he returned from his Elias-caused exile, but now he stops. He studies the face that he knows so well, that is as familiar to him as any of his flesh-and-blood acquaintances.

He shivers.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (IV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here and this is part four 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Our boy is recovering from Bad Stuff in the Watchtower (involuntarily). Danny gets a bandaid for a variety of wounds that definitely are not covered by a little adhesive bandaid, but hey! Bart’s trying.

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Batman clicks on the projector screen. Everyone in the room has access to the slides and note-taking abilities on their tablets. The assembled heroes quietly select their app of choice, sit back in their chairs, and ready themselves for the meeting.

“Good afternoon. For everyone in alternate time zones, good morning or good evening as they apply. Before I begin the approved agenda for this meeting, there are developments on the base that everyone ought to be aware of.”

Click. The slide changes to a fuzzy image of an unusually dense collection of shadows in a typical medical-wing setup. The specific location isn’t clear, but the phenomenon itself is stark against the white walls and flooring. The static on the cameras is atypical for the quality of equipment used on the base.

“There is an extraterrestrial lifeform that has made Medical Wing C their territory. Yes, we know they are there. No, they cannot be moved at this time. Please do not try to take initiative in doing so. Please do not enter the aforementioned medical wing. If you see this entity outside of the medical wing, please leave, ignore them, or otherwise make your presence known. They are generally in search of isolation and seek to remain unseen. All known attempts at self-defense by this entity have been largely non-hostile so far, but we do not know how or if that behavior will change as they heal.”

Batman…takes a breath. Not sighs. The vigilante has more control than that.

“They are severely injured. The exact nature of their injuries are still unknown, based on their—unique physiology—“

Barry squints at the screen. Nope. The cloud still looks like a cloud.

“—But the identified fluids they secrete have been recognized as at least partially composed of red blood platelets and a modified plasma. Based on their aggressive self-defense, the persistent seclusion behavior, and their general lack of responsiveness, the injuries are considered deeply severe and require rest to treat. It is imperative that non-medical staff and on-base heroes maintain as little contact with the entity as possible. We are attempting both delicate medical treatment and non-verbal communication, which have both failed thus far. We have reason to believe that the extraterrestrial is sentient and capable of communication based on—“

Click. The next slide is an image of a nearly-obliterated craft of some kind—tinted glass, wings, debris everywhere, twisted shards of metal that look like they scrape like teeth. Charred black everywhere. Barely visible is a torn–through upholstered seat ten yards away.

A hiss breaks the silence in the back of the room. That’s nasty-looking wreck.

“—This craft. It is relatively rudimentary in its design, and would not have held up to prolonged space travel, but would have required complex intelligence to start and maintain transport. Basic testing has proven that its energy readings, while not precisely contiguous with the Speed Force, show that it has been in contact with extradimensional phenomena. A non-sentient life would not have been able to pilot it successfully enough to crash it—much less to avoid the farmhouse in its path. The result is that we have an extremely wounded entity with no shared form of communication. There have been worrying observations by their medical team, however.”

Click.

This slide is blank.

“We are now pursuing the possibility that the entity has been attacked or otherwise held captive by human organizations here on Earth. There are persistent triggers of aggression brought on by medical settings, adults, and more specifically, any present medical personnel and equipment.”

Batman pauses.

“Their medical team has informed me that their persistent fear has made treatment…difficult.”

There’s a snort from somewhere in the room.

“If you discover any evidence of possible extraterrestrial captivity or torture or experimentation among your usual cast of rogues, please forward everything you are able to base for further investigation. In this time period where the Lanterns are unavailable to return to Earth, Martian Manhunter has been notified of the need of his presence on the base, and will hopefully help settle this matter. In the meantime, as a reminder: do not enter Medical Wing C, do not engage with the entity in any way. Simply make your presence known, and they will flee.

“Now. Onto our agenda. First article: whoever has been taking the toilet paper from the supply closet, stop it. The league is not here to fund your lifestyle habit of two-ply toilet paper.”

*

There’s more food available more often.

It just appears at the foot of his bed. Like magic. Or, like…like a really, really fast human child.

Some of the packaged foods Danny can’t eat without swallowing them whole, wrapper and all. They’re just too fiddly to get with his claws—the solution is to just swallow it and let the whole thing dissolve in whatever weird ecto-acid is churning in his stomach at the moment.

The rest is fresh from the bakery—or, well the base, anyway, however this moon base gets their fresh foods. Muffins and croissants and sausage rolls and other things he would expect to see on a coffee tray or something.

…Danny prods his stomach.

He’s been too sore to notice, but this half-state of being a somewhat-physical half-ghost is super, super weird. He can eat, but it’s not processed like food is in his living body. Everything he can digest just gets incorporated. Everything he can’t just gets…

He looks down at the slowly growing puddle in his bed.

…Maybe ‘spit out’ is too generous a phrase. Expelled? Excreted?

Ew. Okay that thought is kind of gross and he doesn’t want to think about that while he can’t move away maybe.

He knows, instinctually, that he’s wounded, but this half-and-half state stops him from feeling the specifics. Knowing how, exactly, he’s hurt. Experiencing the majority of the pain and distress.

He curls up on his bed.

Danny hates it here. Not because it’s bad (it is) but because he wants to be home. He selfishly, desperately wants to be home. He wants his rocket sheets. He wants his room with its glow in the dark stars.

…He wants his dad to heat up soup and sit with him, like when he was little and had nightmares. He wants Jazz to sit on the edge of his bed and read to him.

Danny wants Mom.

 …There is some other company here, though.

Sometimes, if Danny is mostly sated and kind of sleepy, the quick human buzzes in with a few of its age-mates. The two don’t get as close as the buzzing human can, because Danny can at least read the Excited!! or Nervous!! or Booored! energy on the human, which makes him more comfortable with letting it in close. Its friends seem to respect his space, though. They don’t go past his curtain, even if it’s open. They talk, but they don’t yell.

Danny thinks he’s getting the soft little bones back in one of his ears, but he can’t fully tell. He can hear that they’re chattering and he can hear which sounds they’re making, but he can’t understand any of them.

Auuuuughhhhh. He pushes the pillow more underneath himself. Does he have brain damage?? Is he…is he missing pieces of his brain??

There won’t be a concrete way to tell until he solidifies again. Gross. He doesn’t want to do that yet.

Or soon.

…Or at all, maybe.

Mom was so mad at him. Maybe he’ll be safe and he can come home if she…if he can’t be touched…?

…No. He remembers. Mom makes things for ghosts.

??Concern?Con??cern?

Danny looks up. Oh. He made the human vibrate all nervously. Danny’s fine. Well—he’s not fine but he’s not hurting more than usual or hungry.

The human is careful not to touch him when he doesn’t want to be touched, but Danny’s feeling generous. When the human puts its hands on the bed, Danny willingly brushes his knuckles up against it.

No claws. A peace offering.

The human goes suuuuper still.

…Uh. Did he break it?

And then it zoooooooms away faster than Danny can comprehend (he jolts) and sprints back with a whole lot of stuff in its hands, and a few things thumpthumpthump ono his bed. And.

Well. None of it smells like food? When he bites it, it doesn’t taste like food either. In fact the texture is…

Danny frowns. Turns over the object so he can see it better. (It doesn’t help.) Is that plastic?

Wait. Danny twists it in half. His wrists ache but the pieces rotate.

…It’s a rubric’s cube.

…Huh.

There are other puzzles too—things that taste like plastic and one that tastes like wood, which he might have dented with his teeth by accident. Whoops. Danny puts that one farthest away, in the hopes that he doesn’t accidentally damage it a second time.

…Huh. That’s. That’s nice.

Danny surprises himself and the surprised!surprised! human with a purr.

It’s not a lot. Not even monetarily is this little offering a lot.

But it’s more than Danny’s had in a long time.

[minnesota-fats]

I was rereading a Dead Marvel x Danny Phantom crossover ( last updated in 2014, RIP ) called Marvel Phantom by Slayer Anderson, and here is the Summary.

So...the Fentons punch a hole through to the afterlife in their basement, and develop unparalleled hover technology and...they're crackpots?

In that fic, that gets played seriously because they showed their tech and a brief glimpse of the Ghost Zone to the News for an interview on their studies and everyone on the planet, from Companies to the Military, wants their tech.

Like they made a physic cancelers shd gravity inverters for their hover machines to study ghosts, not knowing that what they did went beyond groundbreaking and make every technology look like it came from the stone age.

That they are actually geniuses that do genius things despite being 'kooky.'

And you know what, that author is right. Are there any other stories out there where someone stops and says 'You built a what in your basement that did what?!

Sure, Amity is Amity which deals with weird supernatural shit, so they get a pass on not actually stopping and thinking that, but what's everyone else excuse?

Suddenly imagine everyone knows about FentonTech and what they can do.

Remember the Fenton Crammer that can shrink humans and inanimate objects? And if a ghost gets shrunk, their powers get weaker? That can be very useful to transport stuff that would had taken time and money.

Or how they have a what's basically a futuristic tank for a RV that has a lot of space?

Or that they have an Emergency Ops Center on their home that can turn into a hover vehicle.

All of the anti-ghost weapons.

I can go on and on, but things can get funny/ hairy real fast.

Wayne Ent, Lex Corp, Cadmus, every military will want a generous piece of that Fenton Pie, with the Fentons going, what's the big deal? We only made this for ghosts and shit. Whatever happened because of that was a happy accident.

Also imagine Lex Luthor about to pop a blood vessel, and holding himself back from throttling Jack during a talk .

Lex: 'Let me get this straight. You built a pocket-sized mini nuclear reactor that can power the US for six generations at full capacity and still have the juice to power an extra two, and instead of using that to for the betterment of mankind and showing those aliens ( cough Superman cough ) their place, you use it to power a pastry machine homemade peanut butter FUDGE!?'

Jack: Gourmet peanut butter fudge! :D it even makes pies and cookies. That nice Superhero with that A on his chest sure loved the Apple Pie it made!

Luthor: *collaspes and start to foam at the mouth out of rage, shock and disbelief*

Vlad that was sitting at a corner: *Sniff*. 'Welcome to my world.'

Bro this is HILARIOUS!!!!

This is the type of chaos I LIVE FOR!

I know little to nothing of Alex Luther other than the fact that he is a xenophobe…. And that he got cancer from being a xenophobe. (Ha! that’s how it should be for racists and such(jk cancer is actually really bad and not a joke))

He would just be MAD that these social idiots would have been able to go all of this with NO FUNDING!

Like seriously where did they get the money to do this crap????

Also Vlad crying in the corner is so funny to me, the grown ass man being a pouty bitch cuz he can’t have a woman he simpped for for 20 plus years!

Wish I could add more but I can’t possibly think of what else to add other than this.

[lixxen]

hello beloved mutual lixxen. im curious of about danny phantom! ive seen your reblogs of it, and i was wondering if you could explain the premise of it? bc my memory of it was a kids show from nickelodeon, but it seems super popular. is it still running??

anyways it seems kind of fun, im thinking of starting it

Welcome back to Lixx explaining hyperfixations!!

Danny Phantom is a children's cartoon from 2004 that has three seasons and a graphic novel (that came out last year) (the show has been done for twenty years)

It focuses on Daniel Fenton, who is a 14 year old who lives in a small town somewhere in the northern Midwest of the US (near Wisconsin but not in it). His parents are scientists/inventors who are obsessed with ghosts. They create a portal that should bring them to the Ghost Zone, a special realm that ghosts come from, but it doesn't work. Danny does inside of it and turns it on, which turns him into a Halfa. A Halfa is a half ghost, half human. He canonically dies twice in the show. I will not elaborate on how this kid just dies a few times.

The show follows Danny and his friends (and various classmates and reoccurring cast) as he learns how to use his powers and fight off ghosts along the way!

The cast includes:

His older sister Jazz, who is actually a really good big sister who cares a lot even if she's overbearing

Sam, his main love interest who is a Jewish goth girl and doesn't eat meat

His best friend Tucker, who is a techno nerd who loves meat

The A-Listers, who are the popular kids

Valerie, who is a love interest and enemy at certain points

His parents Maddie and Jack, who are overbearing and can be kinda crazy at times

Vlad, his not uncle who is fucking insane and a main bad guy. In love with Maddie

Plus various others!!

The fandom is very active and old. There are regular Tumblr/AO3 events that happen every year with a schedule and there is a steady fanon that has been built around the show that is basically canon (or supported by the canon). The creator, Butch Hartman, is a bigoted asshole who everyone hates.

The show is very fun and it is bingeable. It has a specific formula and is predictable at times. But also, it's very grim because you slowly realize that this 14 year old kid is literally carrying the weight of a realm on his shoulders and is living a double life where his parents basically want him dead and gone while loving his alive self

The fandom loves gore/whump.

I'm not kidding.

I have written a handful of gore fics for this show and tbh they're not even the worst things ever. If you've ever want to see some of the most jaw dropping whump and gore, this fandom has it.

We have fics that are literally the best written alternate universes and have nothing to do with the original show besides characters and death. Like. There's bound books of that specific fic. I haven't read it but it's long and it will make you sob

Some things that are lore building/fanon shit that everyone knows:

Ghost obsessions (you'll know it when you see it)

Ghost cores having specific effects on ghosts (it's canon but not really talked about in canon for more than two seconds)

Danny having allergic reactions to blood blossoms outside of his ghost form

Ghost speak being a ghost language all ghosts speak

Wes Weston and Kyle Weston being unnamed background characters that the fans took and made into full characters. It's actually cool as fuck. They're fully functioning characters and I love them

Death echoes/death days

I will warn that whatever feelings you have regarding to ships needs to be kicked to the side. All things go for ships here. Don't like the ship/don't condone it, don't interact with ir. You will waste your breath trying to play police over ship

Ships also have names. Platonic AND romantic ships. Here's some I can name off the top of my head:

Pitch pearl: Danny/Phantom (Danny gets split into a ghost and human form at one point)

Amethyst ocean: Danny/Sam

Savant Par: Danny/Tucker

Everlasting trio: Danny/Tucker/Sam

Badger cereal: Danny & Vlad (I think????)

Swagger Bishie/Golden Twinkie: dash/Danny

Pink astronaut: Danny/Paulina

Gray Ghost: Danny/Valerie

So yeah lol

This is my most read fic I think. I am gonna start writing again for DP soon. I love reading them

(here's my AO3 fic tags from my bookmarks for DP)

[gilbirda]

for the ask game: Danny Arkham Security Guard?

I've been curious where you're at with that for a while (I assumed the muse has fled and/or you're too busy with other fics), so had to pick that one when I saw it on the list 👀

From this WIP ask game

Haha! I knew someone would ask about it!

Honestly I have struggled a lot with picking this bad boy up... When I finally did a few months ago, the last edit was July 2022 😭

Long story short, summer 2022 was the time I really went down the spiral with Hardcover ship and literally every idea I had was for those two. I think what happened was that I realized there was an untapped potential and market for romance and all the classic romance tropes in DP fandom (I understood why that was the case, but still I was frustrated because I hadn't seen a single fic that made me crazy about any ship in DP) and it left me wanting.

Then I wrote Arkham Guard Danny and I did the bit where Jazz almost shoots Jason, and then I liked the dynamics between him and the siblings and I literally said in the AN if I ended up shipping him, I was debating between Jazz and Danny. *laughs in irony*

So basically I went "what if I write every romance story trope but Jazz/Jason?" and the rest is history.

And every damn time I went back to Arkham Guard Danny, I re read it and realized.... Is just so bad. I saw flaws everywhere. I saw bad characterization. I saw "angry robin Jason" and a bunch of things I don't stand by anymore and I felt like there was no way I could continue that fic and the difference wouldn't be felt. Was I too harsh with myself? Absolutely, but we are our worst critic.

Also? I felt the project running away from me. I started developing worldbuilding and ideas and I got mad because Arkham Guard is supposed to be simple. It used to be the "simple fic" I did while I focused on my magnum opus for DP fandom (Eldritch Ghost King Danny AU - "You and me and our best friend makes three"). If it got complicated I didn't want to write it anymore. And then it did and I dropped it.

Recently I went through a really bad situation and it kind of killed any want to write for dpxdc. I thought - why not go back to the basics? Revisit what really made me start in the fandom, what made me get a bunch of comments like "i got into dpxdc because of this fic". Took me back to when I started, how simple it felt to just write a fic and drop it to the ether and not worry about the things that made me want to stop forever.

So I did. Feels good to pick this up again!

I could go on forever but I won't continue rambling about this project (✿◡‿◡)

If you read up to this point, here's a little bit of what I have so far!

---

“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”

“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.

“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”

“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”

“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that wretched place?

Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”

Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”

“What for?”

She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”

“He can rot for all I care.”

The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.

“You don’t know that place like I do.”

Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”

[assorted-candy]

20 Q's for Fic Writers

I got tagged by @dp-marvel94! Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 

I've just posted my 22nd work a few days ago!

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

37,763

3. What fandoms do you write for?

So far, all my published fics are for Danny Phantom. It's a fandom that's near and dear to my heart and my favorite to write for. I've written fanfiction for myself in a lot of different fandoms over the years. Miraculous Ladybug, Mega Man (Star Force, Battle Network) and Fire Emblem are a few. (Will these ever see the light of day? Probs not, lol)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?  5. Frayed Ends - 37 kudos - Jazz and Maddie are fighting more often. Jack wants to reach out and help his family. 4. The Same Blood - 45 kudos - Maddie and Jack try to help a sick girl that collapsed in front of their house. They don't know what to make of her condition. Danny wants to help.

3. Returned Home - 49 kudos - Maddie finds Danny at home after he disappeared ten months ago.

2. The Broken Pieces Left Behind - 66 kudos (tie) - Maddie knew what the portal did to Danny. If she could create something that essentially turned him into a ghost, she could figure out a way to fix all of it. Even if she hasn't made any progress in the past two months, she'll keep trying. She didn't account for what Danny wanted. 1 . What's Out of Out Control - 66 kudos (tie) - Danny thought he had it under control. He thought he could finally hang out like they used to always do. Tucker could feel the rift between them widening. It wasn't getting smaller anytime soon.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! There were a few comments from my two earlier fics that I never responded to and it's already been so long and I feel like I ended up putting it off too long to say anything now 😓But I'm so so thankful for all the comments I receive! I never thought anyone would read my work, let alone comment on it. I'm always between two modes of 'author commentary' and 'screaming thank you and running away'.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Lol, I love my angsty stuff and there are so many different flavors of angst, so it's hard to pick just one. I'd say the piece I aimed to write for Angst Fest, The Broken Pieces Left Behind, might be it. It ends on a rather hopeless note for the Fenton family that even I don't know how to make everything better for them

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Home for a Cat. It was for a Ectoberhaunt prompt that I was absolutely stumped on. So I decided someone was going to adopt a cat by the end of the fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Ahh, so I actually posted a fic on FFN wayyy back when I was in high school. I remember it being received pretty well but I got a really rude comment on a simple spelling mistake. Back then, I was just told I had dyslexia a few years prior and I had some really bad self-esteem issues tied in with that. So, yeah, that comment basically made me terrified to ever show my work to anyone ever.

It's been over ten years since then and I wanted to actually get over that fear. I impulsively decided to do Angst Fest with the mindset that no one would even look at what I posted. Not only did people look, everyone has been so kind!!!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

lkdajldkf, nope. I get flustered trying to write basic romance and having two characters hold hands, lmao. Major props to those that can, it's definitely a skill that takes time to master just like any other genre.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Also haven't had this either.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, but it seems like a lot of fun.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Back when the show was airing, Amethyst Ocean (Danny/Sam) was my go to. I'm a sucker for friends to lovers tropes and it's really nostalgic for me. But, I don't really read a lot of shippy things for Danny Phantom, so ships don't make or break a fic for me.

If I'm looking to read romance, the whole Love Square (MariChat my beloved) with Miraculous Ladybug will always be great. Even if I jumped ship on the show around season 2 or 3 and I have no clue what they're doing now, lol.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I honestly have so many WIPs that are unfinished on my computer from over the years. Maybe a super old one that I titled 'Phantoms in the Daylight'. Angst once more with Character Death as the main pain point. I like the beginning but oh boy, does it get sloppy and confusing real quick. I'd need serious outlining energy put into it if I'd ever want to salvage it and I just don't have it in me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue! Give me two blorbos and I'll make them talk forever.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Scenery and description. I love the dialogue portion so much that I end up running into the floating heads in an empty room problem in the first drafts of my fics. My first round of edits are dedicated to making sure I have a scene and grounding characters into it. And then I have to go back later to make it not feel so robotic sounding.

(Also a weakness but more as in fic than writing. Summaries and Titles. I stare at my drafts on AO3's editor for at least half an hour trying to pull something together, lol)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I can probably talk about this for hours, lol. I absolutely love foreign languages, especially when it comes to linguistics. So, I'll try to be brief, lmao. Short answer: depends on the fic but normally no. I already spend so much time fussing over the word choice/slang/formality/dialect characters use in my native language. I don't have a good enough grasp on another language for it to sound natural to the reader. ("They would not fucking say that" is my internal monologue during dialogue edits, lol)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It's a toss up between Pokemon and Danny Phantom. I first learned about fanfiction from a friend who showed me FFN for the Pokemon fics. I looked around the site and found all of the Danny Phantom fics soon after and got hooked on those. I started writing around then and it would have been for one of those two.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Hard to chose one! Writing technicality wise, I'm proud of how What Remains on the Table turned out. I consider description my weak point, so the original draft was 0 dialogue with very stiff descriptions. I was able to edit it to really practice my environmental storytelling. (Although, please mind the tags if you click the link as it does deal with the dissection topic)

I'm not sure who's been tagged and I'm not sure who writes fanfic, so @lavendarlily, @fangirlwriting-stories, @grub-xd, @nanaarchy and anyone else that wants to join!

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Ghostface: Possible Parent Scenarios

Original Ask:I saw that post about Danny and wanted to ask what the scenarios you came up with were? Unless you don't want to post them then I understand. Have a nice day!

These are things I came up with one time, just thinking about Danny having a kid before being brought to the Entity’s realm. Basically possible fic ideas.

So first let me say that Danny Johnson, he doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of guy who would be or at least want to be a dad. However! Another part of me says: 

Danny is really into his killings, he’s passionate about Ghostface and all…so then I thought, this guy is gonna someday grow old(not in the entity’s realm of course) and he’s gonna eventually have to stop being a killer whether he like it or not. So I was like…this guy would definitely want a successor.

Onto the scenarios(I shall refer to the other parent as the reader hehe):

1.) Danny is a smooth guy, no doubt can pick up nearly everybody. So there’s a time where he has a one night stand and in the heat of the moment, neither him or the reader care about protection. After that, Danny and the reader never see each other again. Years later however, I guess he just somehow encounters the reader, they don’t remember him but he clearly remembers them because he’s got that kind of memory, maybe they don’t even see him but he just notices them. Soon enough a kid come over, maybe the tiniest bit bratty and after seeing the kids’ mannerisms and such it just hits him. Who else could conceive such a child? He eventually becomes obsessed with the kid, but not in a weird way of course. The reader somehow always bumps into him, he constantly stalks if not approaches the kids, learns everything he can about them. And then one day when he’s stalking them, he somehow loses them…but when he eventually finds them again, he doesn’t know how to feel except prideful. The kid, at such an early age, is already taking after him, perhaps not the killing part but everything else, definitely. He loves this kid in his own way.

2.)In this scenario, Danny could either be single or in a relationship. I imagine that Danny would come across a kid, perhaps they’re attempting to steal something from him, just some kind of situation like that. In the end, Danny would outsmart them and after some back-and-forth banter, the kid runs off. Some time later, days maybe, Danny runs into the kid again, and it just continuously happens. Danny even realizes that this kid…is kind of copying him? Damn, stalker game on point, impressive. Danny eventually warms up to them and the kid approaches him, just trying to be kind of annoying but Danny’s ignoring it until he reaches his house. The kid just invites themselves inside, Danny honestly not giving a damn. After some time he jokingly asks if they’ll be leaving now or keep annoying him and the kid admits that they don’t have a home. Now Danny, I don’t see this guy as being exactly empathetic or sympathetic, but he for some reason feels bad. Just tells the kid to sleep on his bed, he finds his sofa more comfortable, and things just keep on going that way. Danny has basically adopted this kid. In the situation where he has a partner, it’d kind of go the same way I think, even his partner could end up convincing him. Or maybe they live separately, Danny would still do the above thing.

3.) In this case, Danny would be in a relationship with the reader. Of course, they’re not in the entity’s realm because I highly doubt the entity would permit conceiving children and such. Maybe the reader mentions kids, maybe not, but the thought doesn’t exactly cross Danny’s mind. Maybe there are some nights where he thinks about having a little him(’cause he’s narcissistic of course), or a little version of his partner. Those thoughts are immediately shooed away. However, I can see a child being conceived at random. Totally-ish unplanned, but it wouldn’t entirely make Danny upset. Maybe a little frustrated because this guy is on the move when people catch on and such, a child(let alone a partner) might complicate things. But…he would actually be happy to eventually have a little one. Ah, he’s gonna be the best dad, he says. He’s gonna teach them how to properly gut someone like a fish, make prank calls, stalk! Once the newborn is in his hands, he’s gonna be overjoyed and…maybe the tiniest bit teary eyed. Of course, this guy would constantly “joke” that he’s found the next Ghostface.