#Danny's powers are reflects of his mood

[dcxdpdabbles]

For Danny, gravity is a suggestion, but when he's human he prefers to feel ground under his feet while he's thinking. This leads to him often not realising he's started walking on the wall or ceiling when he's lost in thought or otherwise distracted.

Tim's definitely normal human friend Danny, pacing on the ceiling during his third visit at Wayne manor: [ranting about something, probably defending his love of weird flavour combo milkshakes]

The Batfam, silently debating how they're gonna break it to Danny that he's a meta: ........

Tim's eyes follow Danny as he starts pacing around the table, his homework abandoned on the table. His voice is becoming sharper, and his words are strung together more as he continues. He noticed that he became less aware of his surroundings when his friend started going on his rants.

Watching Danny's body language become slightly less human was fascinating. It started with his eyes—if Danny felt angry, they would glow green. Tim always knew when to cut back on his teasing whenever he saw the flash of green, no matter how brief the green was.

When Danny rants about something that upsets or makes him sad, his voice gains a particular echo. It is almost as if he is slowly walking into a cave.

There were times when Danny got excited or happy; his hair would start to puff up slightly. This reminded Tim of when he would rub a balloon on his hair to study the positive and negative charges.

Danny's hair didn't flout straight up, but it was electric enough to be noticeable if you paid enough attention.

It was as if his emotions affected his physical form like a mood ring. Tim could always tell what Danny felt by watching for the little effects.

All these little things were easy to hide. Most people noticed less than Tim did, but there was one little quirk Danny did that was rather hard to miss.

"What if we talked about the effect of well-lit street lights on crime rates?" Danny asked, striding up to a wall and casually pacing on it. He continued to think out loud, with his eyes closed, as he made loops on the ceiling. Tim needed to pay more attention to the subject of their presentation, but he was somewhat distracted by how Danny's hair and shirt defied gravity.

They stayed perfectly in place as if his friend were still on the ground and not upside down. Tim wondered if his powers were less flying and more gravity-shifting.

It would also explain his lower degree of super strength if he could manipulate gravity. (Tim didn't care what Danny claimed in gym class. No regular human could lift two punching bags like nothing, especially for something as casual as cleaning up)

Or maybe he was able to move in a fifth direction. From his perspective, while Tim was stuck in 3D, Danny could move in the fourth and walk on the ground. It would explain why he didn't notice he had stepped on the walls or ceiling. To Danny, he never left the floor.

"No, that wouldn't work," Danny mutters, making loops around the chandelier. "What if we...but then that would mean...."

Tim couldn't make out most of his words, but that was fine. Danny also tended to mutter under his breath when he was deep in thought.

He cranks his neck back, eyes tracing the way Danny seemed to strut around as if he was out for a walk on a nice sunny day in the park. Carefully, making sure Danny was too distracted by his thoughts, Tim aimed his camera phone at him.

He takes a few photos and then opens the family group chat.

Tim: I need advice on gently telling a friend something that may change our friendship. I've tried to say it to him before but he doesn't seem to get it.

Jason: buy him some flowers and write him a poem. He'll love it.

Steph: That's terrible advice, Jay. No one does that anymore

Jason: No one has class anymore, you mean. Besides, boys deserve to be romanced, too.

Dick: Just tell him how you feel, Tim! Be direct and make sure you use the words "I like you romanticly." Sometimes people don't understand you're asking them out.

Damian: Do not bother me with your failed courtships.

Duke: Maybe don't go as far as Jay said, but Dick's right. You have to say, "Go on a date with me" or something.

Steph: Try the bend and snap! It's Elle Woods-approved!

Tim: No, that's not what this is about. I need help telling Danny he might be a metahuman with Superman-level Power.

There is a long pause before his phone vibrates again.

Damian: I beg your finest pardon?

Bruce is typing.....

Tim: He's friendly! He just has yet to notice that what he does isn't regular.

Jason: Wait, isn't Danny that kid we saw you at the ice ring with? The one that snuck up on Cass by accident?

Tim: Yes

Multiple people are typing.....

Tim briefly glances up to see what Danny is up to, and he is surprised that Frost has started developing in his footsteps. That's certainly new. He attached the photos to the chat, sending them off as Danny slowly floated back down.

He watches as his friend flips horizontally in mid-air so that he's standing upright when he lands. His hair is starting to puff up again, so he is not surprised when Danny's eyes snap open with a gleeful glint in them.

"I figured it out, Tim!"

"That's great," Tim tells him with a smile as Danny eagerly returns to his seat. He is babbling about the solution to their government class and how he knows he can get their proposed bill passed with the correct narrative.

Tim watches frost develop around his pencil and chair. Fascinating. Does that mean excitement? He almost forgets about the family group chat while attempting to figure out what emotion Danny is experiencing to connect to frost that he missed a few messages.

Bruce: Tim, where are you?

Bruce: he made Cass jump because she didn't hear or see him coming. That's worrisome.

Bruce: He could be dangerous

Bruce: Where are you

Bruce: Tim, answer me

Bruce: Timothy Jackson Drake, answer the phone right now

Dick: Oooooohhhh middle name

Damian: They are in the left-wing dining room, Father. I already have a visual on them.

Damian sent a photo of two teenage boys sitting at a table, bending over to look at a book together. Papers and pencils are scattered around the stranger while Tim's trusted laptop is in front of his part.

Bruce: Good. Keep them in sight at all times and report any suspicious behavior.

Damian: Naturally.

Steph: No DNA test is needed

Duke: Literally.

Cass: I am confused. I thought we all knew Tim's boyfriend was not human?

Jason: We did not, in fact, know that Cass.

Cass: It is obvious by the way he moves that Danny is not a meta-human. He is close to one, but he moves like a different being. He reminds me of Captain Marvel.

Multiple people are typing......

[itsvelyria]

"alternate universes w the f1 drivers"

Charles Leclerc

A tense atmosphere hangs in the still air of the conference room. The guards of the neutral faction glance at each other, be that in trepidation or anticipation, you couldn't give two hoots. If you had a little more presence of mind, perhaps you would have scoffed at the sight of such timidity. But your attention had been focused on one thing even before you stepped foot into the room - Leclerc, the commander of your universes' nemesis and your self-proclaimed enemy. Even as both your universes teetered on the brink of a cosmic conflict over some glowing orb of unfathomable power, you could see nothing but his equally unwavering stare boring into you. It was a battlefield of carefully chosen words and tempered anger, the kind you were terrible at, and a desperate attempt to find common ground in the midst of interdimensional tension. Memories of recent battles played like vivid flashbacks in your mind – your successful conquering of New York, and then counted with major loss suffered in the faraway battlegrounds of Thailand at his hands. The friction between you two mirrored the larger conflict, a reflection of the cosmic struggles that had engulfed your universes. Each word uttered by your superiors and his felt like a strategic move on a celestial chessboard, with the stakes higher than ever. The table, littered with holographic projections and tactical maps, became a battlefield of its own, an arena for diplomatic warfare. Amid the charged atmosphere, you two stood tall as commanders of your respective armies, your universes hanging in the balance, and the fate of countless lives rested on the outcome of this uneasy negotiation.

Carlos Sainz

You can't stop the sly smile from spreading on your lips when one of your maids discreetly places a charcoal-coloured envelope next to your plate. The conversation about the northern harvest abruptly fades as your eyes lock onto the crimson seal adorned with an embossed helm, an unmistakable insignia of authority. The seemingly simple package, however, emanates opulence, from the shimmering paper to the vibrant pigment of the wax. It speaks of a wealth only a king could possess - the Ruler of the Underworld, your husband. Beside you, your mother's disapproval is palpable, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the letter from your elusive beloved. Despite her repeated skepticism regarding the legitimacy of your marriage, a quiet rebellion has taken root in your heart, growing into a conspicuous flower that refuses to be overlooked. In a huff, your mother excuses herself, unable to endure the presence of the offensive missive on her table. Meanwhile, you handle the delicate task of peeling the seal with utmost care. The pages that spill out consume your entire morning, each carefully chosen word and artfully crafted sentence nurturing the burgeoning emotion within you, a fervent longing for the man. Tracing the signature at the end, the cursive letters spelling Carlos's name evoke the vivid memory of him signing his name on the palm of your hand that teary evening before your departure.

Danny Ricciardo

Your workshop is beyond cluttered. You know this. And on usual days, you don’t mind it in the least bit. But when you can’t find the only wrench that works, it is basically hell for you. You rifle through bags of nails and bolts, wondering if it is possible for a black hole to open at random to steal one’s only good tool. The plastic baggie of sequins that you bought to adorn Danny’s suit as a prank explodes as you toss it to the ground harshly, decorating the air with pink metallic confetti. Your hands pause over the table, eyes pressed closed in the hopes that your temper will settle itself magically. It doesn’t. But the door to your workshop does open, and the cheery voice of your partner asks if there is a party going on. You turn to him with the deadliest expression you can muster, telling him that you aren’t in the mood for jokes. “Will coffee help?” he asks, his unruly curls pushed up by the goggle on his head, holding up a mug. You feel the tension in you jaw loosen and nod, taking the metal cup from him gratefully. The amazing coffee smell wafts into the air as you open the lid and take a sip. He asks what you were looking for, already sweeping up the sequins from the floor as you collapse into your stool to enjoy the caffeine. You tell him in-between mouthfuls of the precious liquid. “I told you to keep your station clean,” he wags a finger at you in mock lecture. “And I told you I’d do it when you clean out your closet,” you shoot back bitingly. He sticks out a tongue at you as he dumps the collected sequins into the trash. Danny holds his hand out for the empty mug like he does on the coffee run he insists on doing for you every day. “Your wrench is right there by the way.” You swivel in the direction the pilot points, spying the goddamn tool right there beside the toolbox. A curse spills from your lips. “Love you too,” your boyfriend presses a kiss to your cheek as he leaves the door, already late for his practice session.

George Russell

The colossal estate towers over you in a show of intimidation, even more so than 17 years ago when you were deposited at the front door and it was introduced as your new home. Perhaps it was the fact that in the room with the round window on the second floor, sat the very man who had shaped you into the officer you were today, someone you would forever be indebted to and the folder in your hands had to power to ruin his life's work. Your feet propels you forward, the duty you were sworn to uphold taking charge over the fog that clouded your perception now. In the ancient study room, you greet your adoptive father whose eerily calm composure hints at his awareness of the purpose of your visit. And so you lay it out. The mosaic of the photographs and documents, the tangled threads of your past and his lay out in the open. Taking out the last photograph, you pause to study the profile of the man who should have been in your place, the cheeky look in his eyes and the impish charm glaring through the still image. You slide the photograph across the desk, utterly still as the man behind it scrutinizes it. The air hangs heavy with the unspoken words, the undeniable connection that lingered between you three, and imaginary weight of your disclosure pressing down on your throat at the very moment. You were well aware of the ruin that could be brought upon you with this discussion and yet you were still here, confessing the sins of his child to him. His response is stoic, the same measured tone that rings through your ears when you screw up. "Do what you must." The words hang over your head as you exit the manor, already on the phone with your superior officer for a warrant request for a George Russell.

Lando Norris

The daily Elemental assembly meeting was something you dreaded with a passion. 6 elements, all with wildly different personalities and priorities engaged in what you can only describe as immortal combat. Today's battle amongst the jewel-toned silks emblazoned with your crests was over the luscious piece of untouched land up north. You slammed your hands on the table as the Head of the Fire elements begins detailing the plan his council had drafted for the beautiful plot of soil. If he wanted to build a fucking heat machine, he could do it over your dead body. The unjustified stare he shoots you should send normal people back-pedalling into their opinions, except you were not "normal people". Unlike all the other heads here, you have had the terrible misfortune of being Lando's classmate all throughout your schooling years. It has been ruthless threats and one-upping each other since your first childhood memory. When he was elected head of his kind, you too were appointed leader of yours. And thus started a new chapter in your rivalry that continued to this present moment. You slam the car door angrily, muttering under your breath at the infuriating man and his stubborn opinions. "I thought we agreed not to bring work outside of the building." Your husband slides into the seat beside you, his scarlet orange suit blinding your vision as you shoot him a dry look. "Let's get lunch before my council meeting with the fire elders." The nonchalant tone rings through your ear drums and you feel it water down the rage that was blazing in you. "You have a community session right?", followed by "Shall we watch that movie you've been talking about tonight?" and the fire washes away completely.

Lewis Hamilton

Lewis doesn’t like this. The lumpy seats provide no support and the intrusion into his life is not something to just get used to. But it means he can continue to chase the dream of playing bass around the world, so he settles into the interview. Surprisingly, the interviewer was interested in more than his gym routine and the rockstar life, posing a question about his time in music school, more specifically the conservatory where he played the violin. And so, he recalls the late-night practice sessions and composing classes where is almost tore out all his hair, all his memories leading to the same person. The interviewer brings the topic to his final year showcase, the culmination of his studies and the last fond memory of sharing the stage with his favourite musician. “I understand you are friends with the pianist of the San Francisco Symphony,” the leading statement loaded with intention even as the interviewer shoots him her most brilliant smile. Lewis laughs. He can’t help it as he thinks of how you were probably watching this and spamming him with messages right now. He agrees with the interviewer, thinking of his confidante all the way in a different state at this moment, staying up late to watch the interview. “Just friends then?” The prompt sends him into a fit of giggles even as he answers. But he thinks of the flowers he sends for every single one of your performances and concerts, receiving a call from you afterwards with a selfie and he knows, that deep down, even as his lips define it as a friendship, his very soul knows it wants more than that with you.

Max Verstappen

You would kill Yuki one day. And if you didn’t, you would turn yourself a ghost and push him into a hole somewhere for ditching you at lunch. He knew damn well how you felt about being alone in a crowded Great Hall and the little spitball was still nowhere to be found. Damned betrayer. Gripping your books tightly, you wondered if it was too late to escape to the library. The sudden pressure around your wrist comes out of nowhere and you jump, instinctively glaring at the offender. Max releases your wrist at the sharp look and suddenly, you miss the warmth of his palm on your skin. You mentally slap yourself as you glance to the side and meet a familiar pair of eyes. Your sister sends a small smile in greeting, her canary yellow-trimmed robes rustling as she does. “I need a favor,” your friend poses the statement at you once the sharp look softens into something you won’t name. “What is it?” you ask, not trusting your voice. “Tutor me in runes tonight,” his reply comes instantly, though it sounds more like a demand. Your sister reacts to this by grabbing her boyfriend’s arm in confusion. “You are having trouble in runes?” Watching the exchange, you feel yourself inching away from the potential couple fight. What stops you, is Max turning to you and repeating the question. You can see your sister roll her eyes out of the corner of your mind and determining it as an okay sign, you agree before your brain can point out everything wrong with this scenario. You collapse onto the empty bench at your house's table, and like the devil he is, Yuki appears. At the sight of his happy beam, you are once again reminded of why you do not lunch alone.

[thesmollestsnek]

Today in the snek rambles about random fandom things, we have: Danny’s age! Specifically, how he ages long-term, seeing as he half-died at fourteen.

Now, a lot of the fics I see that age Danny up in some way have his human body aging, either normally or occasionally at a slower rate, and his ghost form naturally changing to mimic that. Almost as common are the fics where Danny’s human form ages while his ghost form stays at the age he died. And don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of fun to be had with both those options. I’ve seen some great fics playing with both those concepts.

…But yknow what I haven’t seen?

A fic where Danny’s ghost form is the one that ages, while his human form stays the same. Think about it, a ghost’s form is malleable, and doesn’t necessarily reflect what a person originally looked like so much as what they think they should be. This is almost alway the explanation given for Danny’s ghost form aging with him, when a fic writer decides to go that route. Ghost forms are malleable, it makes perfect sense for Danny’s Phantom form to be capable of aging, so long as Danny believes that it should be.

…but you wanna know what isn’t so malleable? A human body. And for all that Danny’s still alive, he’s also dead, and while the show seems to portray Danny and Phantom as two separate halves with little to no bleedover, fanon seems to prefer having the boundaries between death and life in one Danny Phantom be much blurrier. As do I. Danny is a human who is dead, just as Phantom is a ghost who is alive. Both and neither at the same time. And while living humans age, dead ones don’t.

So. When Danny walked into the portal, he died. And regardless of how you want to argue semantics of resurrection and was there a brief period of time when he was only dead and he was also alive when he left the portal, he did die and a part of him stayed dead. Meaning that, by some definitions, his human body can be considered a corpse. And corpses don’t age.

Just, imagine the potential angst there, of Danny realizing, a year or two or three after the accident that no, he’s not just a late bloomer. He’s just. Not. Aging. And never will again, at least as a human. How long did it take him to recognize that fact? …how long did it take for him to realize that he can never seamlessly blend into human society again? His Phantom form is obviously not human, and his human one will never make it past fourteen.

…But then, his ghost form is still aging, it never stopped even after he noticed that the two forms no longer look the same. Even after he accepts that Danny Fenton will never make it past fourteen. There’s a part of him that recognizes that he’s still alive and that he should be aging, so Phantom grows up even though Fenton never will.

Which, if you’re inclined to keep piling on the angst, can also serve to isolate him from ghost society. A being of change trying to fit into a community of people who will forever stay the same. Preserved exactly as they were at their time of death. Except for Danny. Who’s still the odd one out, even in death. A ghost who’s growing up and a human who’ll forever remain a child.

…

Orrrr if you’re not in the mood for soul-crushing angst, you can also use this concept for fun and hijinks. Age Danny up a couple decades, plop him into any world with other superheroes, and watch the identity shenanigans take over. I’m especially fond of this being done with the Justice League, because he’s basically a reverse Captain Marvel. Imagine, the League finds out that their adult coworker is actually a small child masquerading as a grownass man through the power of a magically aged-up superhero form and a lot of bullshit. They see that when Billy Batson is in his civilian/human form he returns to his actual age. And then they see phantom, another coworker who, when not in the form they use for heroics, physically turns into a child. And so they go “we got this, no further clarification needed.” (Spoiler alert: they do not, in fact, got this).

[leikeliscomet]

Flop and Bubble - Part 3/End - The Writers Room

When I recommended I May Destroy You, Mood, Dreaming Whilst Black and Champion it wasn’t just because they were Black British shows, even though that’s part of it. It was because they all represented similar themes to Dot and Bubble with more tact, nuance and depth than that episode could ever dream of. Arabella’s social media dependency became her outlet because she thought it was the only way to reclaim power after her assault. Sasha’s obsession with social media is because she knows social currency can turn financial and in her dire situation, she needs the reach. Kwabena’s outbursts take place inside his head because even though he knows he’s right, he knows what the consequences are if he speaks out and he walks the tightrope of validation and authenticity. Vita’s musical image is under control by her white manager because her roles as a dark-skinned Black woman in the music industry are limited. I also recommended them because they all reflect the dissonance between Black British media and creatives and white British media like Doctor Who. Every show essentially is the story of a Black British creative struggling to ‘make it’ in their respective industry. Arabella’s book. Sasha’s EP. Kwabena’s short film. Vita’s music career. Each of these reflects the struggle of the Black British creative in real life from lack of funds, the right imagery and ultimately what the white British consumer wants.

Again, by giving Black people our creative agency, there’s a place for Black experiences that Doctor Who can’t provide, or at least could but hasn’t. In Doctor Who, Adjani Salmon was just that guy with the ‘weird hair’ from that Eve of the Daleks episode. In Dreaming Whilst Black, he’s the creator and lead actor of a critically acclaimed show, BAFTA nominated alongside David Tennant. In Doctor Who, Malorie Blackman was just that Black woman that made Rosa. In Noughts and Crosses, she’s a critically acclaimed author, the first Black Children’s Laureate and to me, a massive inspiration that showed me Black girls can be book protagonists too. In Doctor Who, Tosin Cole as Ryan Sinclair is the ‘worst companion of the whole show’, a bad actor and a cardboard cutout. In Supacell, he’s the leading man and a breakout star of 2024. Where Doctor Who fails in Black representation, Black British media gets it right. In a bittersweet sense, I know the true representation I’d want from the show won’t come (or not at least for a very long time) but I know where it could be outside it. To repeat from previous essays, I don’t expect the perfect Black representation to come from Doctor Who as it's a predominantly white show intended for a white audience. I only expect the bare minimum of living up to its promise (which it made all by itself by the way) of having ‘space for all’, in this case providing Black representation both in and behind the screen. If it can’t do that, then at least be honest and say you just don’t want us here. It saves a lot of time. We can make our own spaces where we’re actually wanted.

-

The tone drastically changes when you shift from performing for white validity to defending yourself and essentially, stop chasing after the boat. It’s harsh and cold. It even exists in the show. When Martha defended herself she was ‘aggressive’. When Mickey and Danny called out their mistreatment they became ‘abusive’. When the Fugitive held a gun she never fired she was ‘violent’. The price you pay for not chasing after the boat is that you become the Bogeyman. It’s very clear from the responses I got from my OG thread, many white fans and non-Black fans of colour wanted me to stay in my place and be grateful for the steaming dump I was given. How dare I not bow before RTD? He wrote about racism and he’s got a Black guy what else can you want? Isn’t that enough? Didn’t he try his best? Isn’t RTD’s best good enough? 

No. It’s not good enough. I don’t care who cries about me saying this. As I’ve already addressed in my Fugitive Doctor essay, I’m not crediting Black stories to RTD. Simply enjoying his work is fine. I enjoy his work myself, specifically the Sarah Jane Adventures, It’s a Sin and Years & Years. But when the Doctor Who fandom claims RTD, a white writer, is the reason for progress in Black representation and Black art over the countless Black creatives who’ve worked before him, the same time as him and after him, I will always, always push back on that as a Black person. I had no reason to gas this episode because it disappointed me from the initial watch and rewatch. From the disgusting antiblackness I experienced from this fandom for critiquing Dot and Bubble, I have zero reason to ever call it a good story about my own experience as a Black person. If you’re looking for a Black user to gas this episode to make your interest in this episode and season look morally superior and woke, it’s not happening. I don’t need to consider your disagreements, your interpretations, your opinions or your permission to dislike Dot and Bubble as a Black person. I will also push back on the bold comments made by RTD himself. You have a Black character and racism plot. Cool. How this is written and how this plays out is what actually matters to me than it just simply existing. Allyship isn’t the state of going from racist to anti-racist overnight. It’s not clinging onto the nearest Black person for dear life. It’s through consistent actions and support that someone becomes an ally. For once, you aren’t instantly rewarded for just showing up, you have to do more than the bare minimum. And that’s the closest to the Black British experience this fandom will ever get.

In a renaissance of Black British media, if Doctor Who’s getting any accolades from me, it needs to keep up. The idea I have to praise an episode just because ‘it's the racism one’, with shallow messages meant to soothe the ego of its audience instead of challenge it, with no Black writers in the creation process, no original theme of racism to begin with and that dozens of pieces of Black media have done a hell of a lot better, to sum it up, is a fucking joke. Black creatives don’t have to ask permission to create and represent ourselves. We just have to get on with it because it’s not gonna create itself. I’m not asking for permission to hate this dutty episode. I’m not chasing after that boat.

<- Part 2

[britcision]

Listen I can’t finish it tonight but I’m real real close but next week is gonna be buuuuuuusy so chapter 15 is right on the line of done and we’ll see if I get it up before next Wednesday 👀

If I do, we may not have a WIP Wednesday next week so again, we shall see

This week, have second place from the poll, Waylon and Danny!

————————

I’ll Take The Highway part vi

Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.

Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.

And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.

He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.

If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.

But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.

Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.

Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.

Didn’t mean he had a good answer.

He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.

This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.

So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.

“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.

Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.

“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”

His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.

“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.

Waylon chuckled and shook his head.

“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”

Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.

Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”

Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.

“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.

Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.

“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”

Lines like being a cannibal.

Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference not a need.

For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.

Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.

Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.

“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”

He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.

The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.

Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.

He’d come to a decision. Good for him.

“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.

“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.

Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.

——————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor r @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook

[lapetitechatonne]

Masterlist of Fandom Playlists

as a neurodivergent person, i literally can’t write if the vibes of what i’m listening to isn’t on point, so i thought i’d share a few of my fandom playlists down below! some of them are specific to fics, others are certain relationships, some are purely vibes. i’ve included links to all of them, just click on the title. welcome to the chaos that is my mind.

also yes they do all have sailor moon screencaps for the playlist image, it brings me much joy and it will never stop.

there was an idea

this one is just vibes tm. songs that i listen to when i’m picturing fights or action. i named it after the avengers because i liked the way it sounded, and i generally like the mcu’s music choices.

it's angst hours baby

these songs just put me in the mood to ruin someone's life.

i've learned to love falling

this one is a Dick Grayson character playlist. i just wanted to add some songs that remind me of him/his vibes. think abba, Britney Spears, and a little bit of punk pop.

i'm the most cutest girl in the world

a Paulina Sanchez playlist!!! i love her so much and i realized i didn't have many 'bad bitch' playlists, so it felt fitting. this is a lot of female artists, mostly pop and rap. however, i have thought about adding some 'bubblegrunge.' thoughts?

i’ve been bamboozled (into loving you)

an Anger Management (Jazz Fenton/Jason Todd) playlist <3 basically a lot of the songs that remind me of their relationship or that i think fit their vibes.

👑Space Princess💫

a Space Princess (Dani Phantom/Mar’i Grayson) playlist, because i am so soft for them. it’s a soft sapphic playlist that’s just as lovely as my favorite girls

🌟Shooting Star💘

i will admit, this one started off as Dani Phantom/Lian Harper, but at some point became more of a sapphic modern disco playlist, and i ended up switching it to Dani Phantom/Mar'i Grayson/Lian Harper because i thought it fit better. it still have light, fun vibes that i associate with them though.

beauty and the BEAST

okay this one is out there. it's for a rather dark fic with explicit material, so the playlist reflects that. It's grungy and sexy and it portrays the Dick Grayson/Dark Danny Phanton (Dan) relationship i want to write.

👑 Crowns & Clowns 💗

now we’re getting into the fic specific playlists. this playlist is a BIG spoiler for my fic “The Princess and the Outlaws” so listen at your own risk. basically all the chapter titles for that fic are different Taylor Swift songs and they’re on that playlist. past those songs, we get into more vibes territory. this playlist in particular has a few different sections since it deals with the polycule Jazz Fenton/Jason Todd/Roy Harper/Koriand’r. the first section being chapter titles obviously, the next being songs about their relationship, then songs they would sing to/about their partners, then a girl power section because Kori and Jazz kick ass, and lastly non-romantic songs that give off their group vibes.

*squints* is that a unicorn?🦄

this is a collaborative playlist with @gremlin-bot, @half-dead-ham, and @bewitched-forest based on our Patrol Partners fic, Weltschmerz. it's all over the place, but it's so fun and honestly scratches my brain the right way. one of my favorite to write and listen to by far.

👻A Fright of Robins🌃

this playlist is specifically for my fic "hitting pitch black streets with pink clad heart beats." it's mostly Panic at the Disco, Fall Out Boy, and Matt Maeson right now, but i want to add some more to it eventually. fun fact, i named the playlist after the Phantom term "Fright," which relates to a ghosts pack or family.

Bellflower Manor

this playlist goes along with a fic i'm cowriting called "Brides, Birds, and Batshit Family Matters." if you know, you know.

forgotten kids

this is a grungier Dani/Lian playlist for a fic i'm planning "Urban Legends are Warnings from the Dead." it's meant to be a bit spooky, a bit grungy, a bit hopeful---because what is Gotham if not full of hope?

Gotham Academy

this playlist is also specific to my fic “Wisteria” which is a dp/dc dark academia au. it’s a mixture between dark academia, dark forest, investigation, spooky, magical, grungy, gay vibes. it’s doing a lot right now, and i might go back and edit it sometime some.

❤️‍🔥let me show you power💋♟

this. playlist. okay, so it’s specific to the dp/dc leverage au i’m working on but bare with me. it’s punk, punk pop, angry feminine, anti-hero vibes. it’s about manipulation and being alluring, and falling in love somewhere along the way. i rather like this one as you can tell lol.

it's not bullying if it's tim

firstly, the name is a joke based off of this one post i saw that i thought was hilarious where people were saying "bullying is bad except for when it's Tim Drake." this playlist is for my Soulless fic which heavily leans towards Tim Drake Whump, hence the name. the fic is still heavily in the works but the playlist is on point.

alt universe 

so, this playlist was actually made for a fic i started a long time ago “See the Light.” i’m not currently working on it, but i really like the concept so i’ll probably revisit it one day. it’s alternative, dark vibes, very much so focusing on the dark parts of the fic. it’s probably one of my favorite playlists i’ve every made, the songs just hit in or out of context.

🕊prettybird🌷

this playlist was made specifically for my very indulgent Batfam/Charmed (1998) au. it’s based on the main pairing of the fic, Dick Grayson/Melinda Halliwell. it’s a lot of love songs, pinning and accidently falling in love vibes, as well as a generous amount of ABBA. 

🌹midnight❤

okay this one was also made for a a very self indulgent Charmed next gen fic. it's Henry Mitchels/OFC and it'll probably never get posted, but i think the playlist if fire so here you go. very pop love songs vibes.

[snackleggg]

City of splintering hopes: Chapter 1 "Frosty conversations"

~~~

Ao3

~~~

Frostbite quickly seemed to realise what he had said and stopped talking, immediately dropping his usually happy attitude. Danny was still processing what he had said.

"Hey Frosty?" Danny asked during one of his semi-regular visits to the Far Frozen.

"Yes Great One?" Frostbite replied as he finished up checking that Danny had fully recovered from a terrible case of the ghost flu he had caught a few days ago.

"You and the other Yetis seem to know alot about my hybrid physiology when I don't even know that. How come?" Danny asked. It was an innocent enough question. Jazz had pointed it out just before he left for his visit and he hadn't been able to shake it from his mind since.

"Well, of course!" Frostbite said with a boisterous laugh "You think you are the only Halfa to have ever allied with our tribe? We have always been friends to your kind Great One!" Frostbite said back with a carefree kind of happiness before he realized what he had just accidentally spilled.

Now they stood there in heavy silence as Danny processed the meaning behind Frostbite's words.

"Other Halfas!?" Danny all but screeched as he nearly fell from where he was sitting with the realisation of what Frostbite said.

Frostbite looked uncomfortable to say the least. He seemed to look around at anything but Danny as he replied "Y-Yes of course! You didn't think you and those two others were the only ones of your kind." Suddenly Frostbite looked Danny in the eye with concern "Did you Great One?"

Danny couldn't reply.

By the heavy look Frostbite was giving him it seemed like there was something deeper to this subject than he was realising. Danny just shook his head.

"Mmm no, the only other Halfas I've ever met were Dani and Vlad" Danny said matter-of-factly. By the look Frostbite was giving him it was obvious he was missing something, some unspoken fact that hung in the air just out of his reach.

Frostbite suddenly broke from his gaze as he huffed while looking to the side "That Plasmius should be ashamed of himself to even dare call himself a Halfa. He may be there biologically but none of his actions reflect on your people" Frostbite said with a tone of bitterness, a tone that was slightly sharper than the bitterness he usually talked with when talking about Vlad.

"Yeah, totally agree, 100% but back to the topic at hand I have a people!?" Danny's brain was trying to understand this new revelation. In a way it answered alot of questions that he had never really thought about. How were the ghosts able to tell he wasn't a full ghost. Why had Pointdexter known to call him a Halfa as if it was a common term. Why ghosts just didn't seem all that surprised about the existence of some weird hybrid. Of course Vlad could've had a part in that but Vlad was always too busy in his cheese castle plotting revenge to really interact with many ghosts outside of hiring them to do his dirty work.

But it also brought up a while slew of new questions. Where had these other Halfas come from? Definitely couldn't be another lab accident caused by his parents. Why wasn't there any information about the existence of ghost human hybrids on earth if there were enough Halfas around to be considered a people, a kind, not just an anomaly that repeated a few times but by the sounds of it some sort of society? And most importantly, where were they!? Danny had never ran into anyone like himself apart from Vlad and Dani.

He looked at Frostbite, trying to pick which question was the most important to ask first. It seemed Frostbite was blissfully unaware of his internal struggle as he just went on.

"Well yes Great One. The Halfas were a strong and prosperous people.... I suppose there isn't really a way for you to know that but I am surprised this is the first you are hearing about this" Frostbite said awkwardly.

Danny probably looked like a fish with how much he was opening and closing his mouth without a word coming out. Finally he managed to say something past his shock.

" 'were'?" Danny asked, his hopes at meeting someone like him suddenly beginning to die.

Frostbite just nodded, avoiding looking at him again as a sorrowful look came upon his face "Yes, Pariah Dark" Frostbite said the name like it was something foul and Danny was inclined to agree "wiped them all out when he sensed they would be a threat to his throne"

Danny almost snorted at that.

Pariah Dark sounded like a character in a tragedy or a myth in that context. In trying to stop Halfas from dethroning him he was indirectly responsible for a Halfa dethroning him. Okay maybe not responsible, Danny would've done it whether the race of people had still been around or not but still the irony was there. So was the karma.

Then he focused on the more depressing part of what Frostbite had said.

"Oh" so there really wasn't anyone else. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

"But!" Frostbite said, a little bit of a cheer coming back to him "the ruins of their old city still stands! Maybe, if you are interested in knowing more, you could visit them? Of course everyone here in the Far Frozen would be more than happy to recount stories of other Halfas to you Great One but our knowledge is limited. Even with our friendship with them, they were always a secretive bunch" Frostbite explained.

Danny didn't really know what to think of the offer. It wouldn't be the same as actually talking to another Halfa but it would still be something, right?

"I'll... think about it" Danny said.

He had gone through too many revelations in too short a time span and he really just wanted to crawl into bed and take a nice long nap, which he could do since it was the weekend.

"Of course Great One. It is entirely up to you what you do" Frostbite said with a smile.

The rest of the visit seemed to fly by but the conversation he had with Frostbite was stuck at the back of his head. He kept on wondering about the other Halfas.

Were they nice? What kind of society did they have? Had they ever been to Earth or did they live exclusively in the Ghost Zone? Why were they as secretive as Frostbite said? Even to their own allies? Why had Pariah felt so threatened by them? Were they really that powerful? What will I find if I go to these ruins?

Even after he left to go back home the thoughts of a people just like him, a people long gone, lingered in his mind.

He was distracted.

He knew Frostbite and the other Yetis had noticed it even if they didn't comment on it but Jazz was alot more proactive about these sort of things. She noticed the far away look Danny had as they were eating dinner and afterwards pulled him off to the side as their parents went back down to work in the lab.

"What's up?" She asked.

"Nothing" Danny mumbled. He didn't know if Jazz would understand his dilemma. Sure he was born human but thinking about the possibility of other Halfas, even if he hadn't been born one, it made his core clench with a need to learn more, to find them

"It's obviously not nothing, you've been distracted ever since you came back from visiting the Far Frozen. What happened?" Jazz asked.

Danny couldn't meet her gaze. He didn't know how to fraze it, to tell her about all the spiraling thoughts in his head, the confusing feelings in his core.

"Danny" Jazz said seriously.

Finally Danny caved and told her about the conversation he had with Frostbite about other Halfas. He told her about his feelings and thoughts on the matter. It was like the dam that had been filling for the last few hours had broken and suddenly Danny was exasperated as he finished recounting everything.

"Other Halfas...." Jazz said thoughtfully.

Danny nodded. For some reason he felt guilty, he felt like he was betraying his family by trying to explore this part of himself.

Jazz, thank the ancients for the observation skills she definitely didn't get from their parents, noticed Danny's dip in mood and quickly went to comfort him.

"Hey, you shouldn't feel bad about this. It makes sense you'd want to find and learn about people who might've gone through similar struggles" Jazz said as she put her hand on Danny's shoulder, a grounding gesture which he was silently thankful for.

"But I feel bad about how if I do learn about this then I'll be keeping more secrets from mom and dad. I already feel terrible lying to them about The accident" Danny shrunk into himself. It's not that he wanted to keep lying to his parents but the perpetual fear of them not accepting him hung over his head heavily and he feared now that if he tried to explore and learn about these people who were like him it would only give his parents more reason to distance him from the family if they found out.

"Danny, look at me" Jazz urged and Danny barely managed to meet her gaze. It was determined and honest, an immovable rock he needed in the swirling river that was his thoughts.

"You don't have to go there if you don't want to but you shouldn't jump to the conclusion that it will only make everything worse. Think about it but don't forget that just as many good things could come from this as bad things" Jazz said and Danny nodded along. That made sense.

"Yeah. I guess the concept just kinda overwhelmed me" Danny said and suddenly he felt emotionally drained all over again.

"Go on, get some rest. Sleep on it but there really isn't a time limit" Jazz encouraged and she was right but Danny felt like if he did want to go then it might be better to do it sooner rather than later.

He crashed onto his bed not really knowing what to think. A few hours ago he was excited by the prospect but now he dreaded what he might find at those ruins, what secrets the Halfas kept hidden away even from those closest to them.

Danny almost laughed at the parallels as he thought about his own secretive situation with his parents. He was in no place to preemptively judge.

Finally he went to sleep.

Dreaming of a lullaby he never heard and a city of people he would never meet.

~~~

First | Previous | Next

~~~

I'll be tagging all content do to with this story with the tag City of splintering hopes so if guys want to you can follow the story easier. You can also use that tag for any questions or content you guys make of the story!

Hope you all like this first chapter!

[five-rivers]

What Was Bound, What Was Loosed Chapter 3

Written for Dannymay Day 6: Core.

.

Ellie took to spending her days in the palace library.

Danny thought he was trapped. Believed he was trapped. So did everyone else. But Ellie didn’t believe it. All cages had keys. Danny had opened hers. It was only right that she return the favor.

(Of course, she wasn’t happy about being stuck herself. There were still things she wanted to see on Earth. She missed the stars.)

The books were old and new. Some were in English, others were in languages she couldn’t even begin to recognize. Most of them had nothing to do with what she was looking for. Like in any library, they were on a wide variety of subjects, all spread out.

Still, she searched. The stack of tomes that had to do with ghostly kingship and the laws of the Infinite Realms grew progressively larger. Occasionally, one of the shades would attempt to put the books back, but they were easily dissuaded, having no will of their own.

She was making progress. Not a lot, but some. Enough to keep her going.

.

Vlad knew when to quit.

Oh, maybe it didn’t seem like it, he was easily as obsessive as any ghost, but he did. Sometimes, a plan just wasn’t feasible, and he had to cut his losses.

Cutting his losses, in this case, meant getting incredibly drunk on ghost wine. Fright Knight didn’t approve, but who cared what he thought? Fright Knight was part of the reason he was in this situation in the first place!

If he had just been warned this would happen, he’d have been able to make arrangements, to find some way to keep his portal open, or to stay in the human world, where his life was.

But no. They were all trapped here. No way out.

When hundreds of ghosts all said the same thing, Vlad was inclined to believe them. Danielle, as motivated as she was, was simply experiencing denial. Or, perhaps, bargaining. He had to admit he was never exactly clear on the stages of grief.

Then, there was Daniel, who seemed to be firmly trapped in the ‘depression’ stage, more of a ghost than Vlad had ever seen him as. He lingered in corners, at the edge of Vlad’s vision, quiet, sad, always flanked by Fright Knight and that other ghost, the one with the clocks.

There were parts of him, his Obsession reasserting itself, that yearned to reach out to Danny, but… He didn’t even know how to begin.

.

Danny felt like a pale, wandering shadow of himself.

Most of the time, he slept, exhausted by the demands the Zone made on him and the continuing changes he was undergoing. The expanding circle of vitality, of rejuvenation, of reconstruction and growth, that so many ghosts were celebrating had to draw energy from somewhere, after all, and even though Danny was absorbing just as much as he was expending, that process made him drowsy in and of itself.

Pain, too, plagued him. His missing eye ached, and sometimes it seemed as if the crown was burrowing into his skull, not merely resting on it. His hand hurt from all his attempts to take off the ring.

He could hardly care for himself in even the most basic of ways. Clockwork often had to remind him, or help him, and he was always so excruciatingly gentle.

Then Vlad and Ellie came.

Their arrival was a relief. Ellie was a friend, was family, and hadn’t been complicit in his betrayal and binding. Vlad had been an enemy, and not even an honest one at that, but essentially everything they’d been at odds over was moot, but he was familiar.

Despite the relief, despite his desire to connect with people who hadn’t hurt him, at least not as badly as everyone else, he hung back. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to bridge the gap.

So, he lurked and lingered. When Ellie went to the library, when Vlad moped and bothered the shades that ordered the kitchen, he followed, he watched.

Clockwork and Fright Knight, of course, followed and watched him in turn.

At least, this is what happened when he was awake and aware enough to do anything. Danny was under the impression that being awake and independently mobile at all this soon after being… coronated… was unusual, perhaps even unnerving. Normally, he’d be curious, excited about new abilities and what they might mean. Maybe he’d even throw around a quip or two about how awesome he was but…

It wasn’t the time, and he didn’t have the willpower to reach for even that dubious coping mechanism.

In the too-numerous times when Danny was both awake and not well enough to follow Ellie and Vlad around, he liked to sit in the garden. It was almost peaceful there, by the fountain, although the plants had a distressing tendency to reflect his every change in mood.

Today was one of those days. He was too dizzy and lightheaded to drift after Vlad or Ellie, even if neither of them moved very much, but he didn’t want to stay in the bedroom, or, worse, the throne room. His core seemed to pulse, sluggish and painful in his chest. Or perhaps that was his heart. He couldn’t really tell with this mixed-up form. It could even be both.

Another slow wave of transformation swept out from him, making his extremities tingle. He watched, tiredly, as it briefly interacted with the walls of the palace and the scattered shades before moving on. The shades… another aspect of all this that Danny wasn’t comfortable with, but couldn’t bring himself to learn more about. They were sustained through his power, but what were they? Extensions of his will? Aspects of his personality? Constructs generated by the palace? By the Ghost Zone itself? He didn’t know.

As much as he should try to learn, he couldn’t help but think of them as yet another imposition, another burden he was being forced to bear.

This wasn’t a healthy mindset. Jazz would tell him as much. Jazz wasn’t here.

“Danny!”

He looked up, his one eye already searching for Ellie. Fright Knight stepped forward, as if to protect him, but Danny snarled at him, annoyed. He wasn’t going to let him get in between him and one of the few people he could currently stand. Clockwork stayed back, passive, but he looked… worried. Uneasy. As if anticipating a disaster.

“Danny!” exclaimed Ellie again, bursting from a bush, a thick book raised above her head. “I found it!”

“Found what?” asked Danny, leaning forward slightly as Ellie joined him sitting on the edge of the fountain.

“A way out!” She opened the book and started flipping through it, obviously looking for a specific entry.

Both Clockwork and Fright Knight looked extremely tense, now. They probably didn’t want him to find this, didn’t want him to leave. Would they try to stop him?

He hunched his shoulders. He might not be well, but he could fight and make it hurt.

“Here!” said Ellie, triumphantly. “Look at this.” She tapped a picture of a bright, spherical object.

“The core of the Infinite Realms?” asked Danny, reading the legend of the picture.

“Uh huh. Apparently, it’s what determines what the Ghost Zone is like as a whole and controls the rules and laws and stuff. Like, even when it comes to what ghosts act like, and what they can physically do, or how the Ghost Zone’s physics behave. But the important part is that you can go talk to it and petition it and stuff, and sometimes it’ll listen. I bet we can get it to listen to you and make it so that the Ghost Zone doesn’t need a king anymore.”

Danny felt a flutter of hope. The book was old from what he could see, and, ignoring Ellie’s paraphrasing, the language was fantastical and couched in metaphor, but still if there was a possibility…

Near their feet, small, bright flowers began to bloom, each no larger than the head of a pin.

“Daniel,” said Clockwork, in a careful, soft tone. It wasn’t pity, not quite, but it was the verbal equivalent of being handled with kid gloves. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Then what is it like?” asked Danny, hunching his shoulders and leaning protectively over Ellie.

“What do you think the King of the Infinite Realms is?” asked Clockwork.

Danny shrugged. Clockwork gave him a small, pained smile.

“The King of Ghosts and the core of the Ghost Zone,” said Clockwork, “they’re the same.”

Danny shook his head, unwilling to let this scrap of hope slip through his fingers so easily.

“Please, Daniel,” said Clockwork. “Why do you think it was so vital that you be crowned? The Realms cannot exist without their core.”

It made sense. A horrible, horrible sense.

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Ellie. “The core’s supposed to be the basis the whole Zone is built on. That can’t just be one person.”

“The library has some books on the subject,” said Clockwork. “But you can see how Daniel is changing things.”

Danny felt his hope collapse and doubled over, hands on his head, face almost touching his legs. A scream bubbled up in his throat, but he swallowed it. All those people, everywhere, his responsibility, his… Not just the people, everything. Everywhere. Not just his responsibility, but relying on him, modeled on him, dependent on him, centered on him.

He wasn’t just the Ghost Zone’s ruler, nominal or not, he was its heart.

“Danny?” asked Ellie. He looked up.

There were blast lines in the ground, radiating away from him. The fountain was cracked and leaking water. Fright Knight had, evidently, grabbed Ellie and leaped away, into the air.

Clockwork hadn’t left, still leaning towards Danny. There was a jagged, dripping slice across his shoulder. Danny gasped, reaching towards him.

“It’s alright,” said Clockwork. “It’s alright.”

“I can’t be,” said Danny. “I can’t be. I’m—I can’t be part of the Ghost Zone. Not—Not like that. That’s not—I can’t be what the Ghost Zone is built on, it doesn’t make sense, I…”

“It’s alright,” repeated Clockwork. “Would you like to go inside? You may feel better if you eat something.”

“Don’t want to bother Vlad,” mumbled Danny. Didn’t want another person to see him crumbling like this.

“We can send something up to your room,” said Clockwork.

He did feel tired. The fountain was repairing itself behind and underneath him. He groaned as the ground beneath him pulled together as well.

“I don’t want to be the core of the Ghost Zone,” he said, knowing that what he wanted was not and never had been a consideration. “I don’t want to be king. I don’t want to be in charge of anything.” He grabbed the edges of Clockwork’s robe, ignoring the moisture despite the pang of guilt it brought him. “I want to go home. And I…” His words failed as he reached for Clockwork’s injury. “I don’t want to do this.”

“This is nothing, Daniel,” putting a gloved hand over the wound. “I have had far worse.”

It started to rain. Great, heavy droplets of water tainted with just enough ectoplasm to glow.

It was one way to hide tears, he supposed.

[trashyswitch]

All Aboard the Pizzaplex!

It's closing night of the opening day at Pizzaplex. Vanessa had been hired to keep guard over the place to make sure no thieves get in and rob them. But Vanessa would wind up getting quite distracted on her first night...And the deep voice in her head (who's lurking in hopes of doing crime) is only adding to the distractions.

{Words written in this format} represent Glitchtrap. This fanfic was suggested by an anonymous user. So, I hope you enjoy the fanfic! Sorry it took a bit.

Vanessa was keeping guard over Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzaplex. It was such a large building...It’s strange that they only hired one security guard for the entire restaurant. And inconvenient for her. Vanessa had to be on the run as much as possible to make sure she was thoroughly checking the entire side of the building. It wasn’t easy, and it didn’t pay much. But it is a pretty place to look at and it did get her out of the house.

Vanessa walked herself towards Roxanne’s Raceway and checked around there to make sure no one was hiding in the dark. The neon lights looked pretty cool on the surface, but it also distracted from what could be hiding in the darkness. That was one thing Vanessa found difficult. Everything is covered in bright, neon lights but none of the lights actually revealed anything hidden within the dark. Hence why she had her flashlight.

Vanessa had started to walk closer to the race track, when an animatronic with deep, red eyes showed up behind her. Vanessa immediately noticed the red eye lights reflecting off the metal. She widened her eyes and turned right around. The animatronic let out an ear-bleeding robotic scream and grabbed her!

Terrified and filled with adrenaline, Vanessa dropped her flashlight and screamed as well!

The robotic screaming quickly stopped and was replaced by autotuned laughter. Vanessa had placed her hand on her chest as she breathed heavily, and let out a sigh of relief. They’re not going rogue...They’re just being evil.

Vanessa growled. “What was that for?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Vanessa reacted, hitting the animatronic in the shoulder. “Which one are you anyway?” She asked, waving her now-injured hand.

“You don’t recognize me?!” The animatronic asked, before moving their face into the bright pink light. The light revealed it to be Roxanne Wolf. Her flowy grey hair rested itself onto her back as she knelt down to put Vanessa down. “Can’t handle a little scare once in a while?” Roxanne asked, showing off her claws.

Vanessa crossed her arms. “Not when it’s a robot doing it.” Vanessa replied bluntly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on thieves?” Roxanne asked. “Huuuman thieves?” She over-exaggerated the word ‘human’ to emphasize that not just robots will go rogue.

Vanessa softened her expression. “Fine...humans can give people heart attacks too.” Vanessa replied.

{Damn right.} a deep voice inside of Vanessa’s brain, told her.

“That’s right!” Roxanne pushed Vanessa’s security hat down. “It’s been decades since robots were predicted to take over the human race. So stop being such a traditionalist!” Roxanne declared. “We’re not that hard to live with, are we?”

Vanessa fixed her hat. Then, she made a ‘well…’ kind of face and rocked her head side to side, meaning ‘you kinda are but you’re kinda not’.

Roxanne hummed. “Well, Monty’s pretty hard to live with. But the rest of us are nice! We were made for children, after all!” Roxanne told her.

{Yeah, made for killing children...} the deep voice added.

Those words didn’t exactly help her…

“So: was it fun seeing me scream and freak out?” Vanessa asked.

“Well, yeah! Very fun, in fact! Even the simplest things can scare people.” Roxanne admitted, curling and wiggling her fingers.

Vanessa’s eyes widened as an uncontrollable and childish smile grew onto her lips. The wiggling fingers took her right back to when her Mom would tickle and tease her. It surprised her, and always kept her in a giddy mood. Even the wiggling fingers would completely change her mood into adrenaline-filled excitement.

“Oh! So you DO like being scared!” Roxanne teased. “A bit of an adrenaline junkie?” She asked.

Vanessa nodded. “Yeah.”

Roxanne giggled and turned her eyes red for a moment. “Peek-a-boo.” She said in a monotone voice.

Vanessa widened her eyes and stared at Roxanne, growing nervous. “C-Come on Roxanne...You-you can’t get someone t-twice.” She tried to say.

Roxanne turned her neck slowly, and purposefully twitched her neck to the right. She scraped her foot on the ground, making a loud metal sound as she stared into Vanessa’s soul. “Play with me Vanny.”

Vanessa widened her eyes. DID SHE JUST SAY VANNY?!

{SHIT- SHE KNOWS. RUN!} The deep voice shouted to her.

Vanessa shrieked and immediately took off running. Vanessa yelped as the sounds of clanging metal and moving artificial joints filled the echoey kids mall. How did she figure out?! She hasn’t even been suspected, let alone caught! She continued sprinting around the mall and skidded to a halt in front of the ball pit.

“Come play with me Vanny! Let’s PLAY!” Roxanne suggested.

Feeling cornered and unable to do anything else, Vanessa took a headstart and jumped to try and get over the ballpit. But the ball pit was just so wide, that she wasn’t even close to making it to the other side. Vanessa fell feet first into the ballpit. When her feet touched, she got herself up and started ‘running’ through the endless plastic balls in the pit pool. Roxanne ran up to the ball pit next and grabbed a rope. With unbelievable percision that only robots possessed, Roxanne threw the life buey right around her body.

“NO!” She shouted, trying to remove the buey. But Roxanne pulled more and picked her up under the arms. “Gotcha!” She yelled. “I scaaaared you again!” Roxanne declared with a laugh.

“Put me down! That was so uncalled for!” Vanessa yelled. “And why Vanny as a nickname?” She asked, growing slightly nervous.

“Oh!” Roxanne looked at her own fingernails and flipped her own hair. “I took the name Danny, and used the 1st letter of your name! Vanny!” Roxanne explained.

Suddenly, Roxanne widened her eyes and looked at Vanessa closer with suspicious eyes. “Also, did you just say ‘uncalled for’?” Roxanne asked, placing her hand on her chin. “You were practically begging for it! You got very excited when I wiggled my fingers.” Roxanne said out loud.

Vanessa bit her lip and finally gave Roxanne an awkward, rough smile.

“Saaaay...Have you heard of the tickle monster? Maybe even met them?” Roxanne asked with a smirk.

{...You’ve got to be kidding me…} The deep reacted.

Vanessa giggled a little nervously. “Yehehehes, I hahave.” Vanessa replied.

“How about Roxanne the tickle monster?” She asked curiously with a raised eyebrow.

Oh no...Oh NO! PLEASE NO!

...Actually, please yes. It’s been years.

{What even is my life…} The deep voice muttered. {Out of all the people- You?!}

Vanessa yelped and kicked her feet as Roxanne’s pointy green fingertips dug into her upper ribs and armpits. She threw her head back with a big smile and let out a fit of laughter. “aAAAHAHAHAHA! WAHAHAIT, WHAHAHAHAT?!” She yelled.

“Now fear the mighty power of Roxanne the tickle monster!”

{........Oh...} The deep voice muttered.

“But yes! Don’t you know that Roxanne Wolf has nails built right into her fingers?” Roxanne showed off her thin, green fingernails proudly. “And they’re perfect for turning into the tickle monster!” Roxanne teased as she started up tickling with both hands again.

Vanessa twisted and turned around to try and get out of her grip. But the tickling was weakening her muscles. She was losing control of her body parts the longer she was tickled, thanks to the wolf-shaped robot that is Roxanne Wolf.

“CUHUHUT IHIHIT OHOHOUT! LEHEHEHET MEHEHE GOHOHOHO!” She begged.

“Now now, there’s no need to be so loud and fussy.” She reassured her. “Just sit back, relax, and enjoy your first of many tickle attacks.” Roxanne suggested.

Vanessa didn’t know what to do! On one hand, she wanted to be put down and go back to her job. But on the other hand…

Tickles didn’t seem like that bad of an idea right now…

Roxanne wrapped her one arm under Vanessa’s armpits and started lifting up her shirt a bit. Vanessa squeaked and giggled, shaking her head. “Nahahat thehere! Ihit’s vehery tihihicklihish thehere!” Vanessa begged.

“Really? Well I have some sad news for you:” Roxanne poked her belly button, making Vanessa squeak and kick. “I’m a rebel wolf~”

Roxanne shoved her hand under Vanessa’s belly and tickled around and in her belly button. Vanessa hung her head and kicked her legs outwards while she cackled up a storm.

Another pair of footsteps soon could be heard. “I hear laughter! Where’s it coming from?”

{Great...now you’re luring more animatronics over…} The voice muttered in her head.

“It’s Cackly Becky over here! She’s the source of the cutest laughter we’ve heard from any adult!” Roxanne replied.

WOW! Hey Freddy! Look at this chick!” Monty yelled.

“Monty, I’ve seen Chica before!” Freddy yelled back.

“No! Not Chica the chick, a security guard chick!” Monty grabbed the nametag and read it. “Vanessa!”

Freddy walked over with his microphone in his hand. “Oh! Pony girl! I see her all the time!” Freddy told them.

“I’ve never seen this bad babe around at all.” Monty admitted.

Roxanne frowned as she gave Vanessa a break and flipped her upside down. “She’s not bad. I’m bad.” Roxanne corrected as Vanessa’s slip-on shoe clapped against the ground. “This lady here in my claws, is a goody-two toes.” Roxanne teased as she gave Vanessa’s toes a little tickle.

Vanessa squeaked and giggled. “NOHOHOhohoho! Nahahahat myhyhyhy feheheheeheheheeeeet!” she pleaded.

“Ey lookie here! A senstive babe~” Monty teased, leaning over on his knees to get a better look at Vanessa.

{And people complained I was disgusting…} the deep voice muttered in Vanessa’s head.

Roxanne stopped tickling Vanessa for a moment and pushed Monty a few feet backwards with her foot. “You’re disgusting. You’re gonna be turned into gator soup if you treat any lady like that.” Roxanne spat.

Freddy looked over at Roxanne with a smirk. “You missed the pit.” Freddy mentioned. With a simple push, Monty stumbled backwards and fell right into the ballpit. Vanessa widened her eyes and dropped her jaw. She was SO gonna lose her job…

Monty popped out of the ballpit pool, gagging. He coughed up about 5 plastic balls. “That almost made me malfunction!”

“Nohow wahahait-”

“Your existance almost made me malfunction!” Roxanne shot back.

“EEEEEHEHEHEHE! FREHEHEDDYHYHYHY NAHAHAHAHAHA!” She cackled and laughed.

Roxanne and Monty looked down to where the new bout of laughter was coming from: Freddy was kneeling down in front of Roxanne, poking and scratching Vanessa’s belly button. Vanessa was giggling and pushing his hand away with no success.

“Kitchy kitchy koo!” He poked the belly button. “You click, then she laughs! Click, and laugh! Boop and gaggle! Beep, wiggle and cackle!” Freddy teased.

“BAHAHAHAHAHA! TOOHOHOHOHO TIHIHIHICKLIHIHIHISH!” She yelled to him.

“Too ticklish? Is there such thing as too ticklish? If so, how can I know?” Freddy asked.

“LAHAHAHAHA- *snort* LAHAHAHAUGHTEHEHEHEHER!” She yelled back.

“Your laughter?” Freddy clarified. He thought for a moment. “But...your laughter doesn’t change. How do I find out it’s too much based on something that doesn’t change?” Freddy asked.

Vanessa grabbed Freddy’s hand and tried to move it to her side. “HEHEHEHERE. TRYHYHYHYHY!” She told him.

Freddy looked at where his hand was located now and smiled. “Okay! If you say so!” Freddy started tickling her sides next. Vanessa squeaked and fell into a fit of high-pitched giggles. “Ooooooh! It DOES change! How interesting!”

“Ihihihi knohohohow!” Vanessa reacted with him.

Freddy moved to squeezing her hips next. “eeEEEEHEHEHEHEHE!” Vanessa’s laughter grew squeaky and moved up and down quite a bit.

{Your ticklishness is gonna be a problem in the future...I hope you know that.} The deep voice mentioned.

“Wow! Your laughter changes a lot like emotions do!” Freddy reacted, making the connection.

{Wow...In the 2060’s, animatronics can make connections. Who would’ve thought?}

“SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUHUP!” Vanessa yelled to the stupid criminal voice in her head.

Freddy’s smile dropped. “I...But why?” Freddy asked, sounding almost hurt.

{Don’t fall for it. He’s a robot. He can’t actually feel emotions. He’s just imitating human emotions and getting real reactions from you through fake-}

“Don’t stop.” Vanessa blurted out. Freddy blinked and tilted his head. “I...Sorry, I don’t want you to shut up. And I don’t want you to stop either.” Vanessa admitted.

Freddy smiled and went back to tickling her sides. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.” Freddy replied.

“Now THAT’S bravery!” Roxanne declared as she started tickling her toes again.

Vanessa giggled and danced her arms around upside down. She was loving it! The toes were such an evil spot to go for too! Roxanne had to tickle the middle of her foot sometimes to open up the toes. For whatever reason, that actually worked. Why? Who knows!

{Woooow...Look at you! Being all honest, and showing your vulnerable side to the animatronics that express fake emotions! Fan-frickin-tastic.}

Vanessa snickered to herself. The guy can’t even properly swear. What a fucking coward.

{...I can swear...Ass.}

Vanessa just about guffawed out loud at that. That’s it?! This man’s gotten SUPER soft. Must be all that programming turning his broken brain into mush.

{...If it weren’t for me using your body to continue doing the thing I crave so much...You would be my first.}

Vanessa giggled at both the foot tickles and at the deep voice. He’s all talk and no action. He’ll claim he’s ‘waiting for the perfect moment to strike’, but he’s really just not doing anything besides haunting her mind. Hence why he’s attempting to tolerate the one-sided tickle fight that was happening between Freddy, Roxanne and Vanessa.

...If he was so smart, maybe he wouldn’t have considered Vanessa as an option back in the VR game...

[angelharness]

DBD Killers as Yandere Archetypes 

WARNINGS: yandere content 

Not a request, but more so a graph I made while stuck in a bad mix of boredom and curiosity. Wanted to delve into the Killers as they’d fit in the ‘yandere’ trope, specifically what subsets they’d be (or archetypes, more accurately). 

Foreword that I doubt I’ll write something of this nature in the future (unless explicitly a commission) as I’m not entirely comfortable with the matter. It’s very important to recognize this characterization as unhealthy and to never enable such behavior in any real relationships. 

Will be sorting each killer into seven classes, including Isolating, Manipulative, Dependent, Possessive, Obsessive, Delusional, and Lucid

The definitions vary greatly depending on the Killer, while some may not fit an archetype listed, or could be a hybrid of any number of them. It’s also very possible for them to fit multiple subcategories. 

For reference, a general key would be

Isolating - (Usually gradually) cuts off s/o from their friends and family, secluding them and asserting themselves as their only social contact. Goal is perhaps to make s/o reliant on them.

Manipulative - Fairly straightforward, though the means of manipulation vary. Often emotionally controlling. Might resort to guilting the s/o or self-destructive tendencies to get them to stay. Goal is to assert control over s/o.

Dependent - Depends on s/o for stability or comfort. Might suffer from separation anxiety and as such is terribly clingy. Often ignores other social ties to focus on their s/o. No implicit goal, but usually wishes for reciprocation of feelings.

Possessive - Similar to Manipulative and often a package deal. Would under no circumstances share their s/o, likely frets over losing them (perhaps to romantic rivals or even misguidedly anyone they falsely deem a threat). Goal is to assert control over s/o. 

Obsessive - Not necessarily Possessive, though the two sometimes come together. An Obsessive might not outwardly act on their fixation, but silently pines intensely for their s/o. Fixates heavily on their s/o. Goal is to become closer to the person of interest, or wishes for reciprocation of feelings.

Delusional - Hard opposite of Lucid. They likely wrongly believe their feelings are reciprocated, believe them and their s/o are meant to be, or that their s/o is in denial of their feelings and it’s up to them to help them realize this. No implicit goal, but usually wishes for reciprocation of feelings.

Lucid - Hard opposite of Delusional. Well aware that their feelings are unhealthy and destructive, but usually represses these thoughts or simply doesn’t care. Might feel guilt, but it’s often overshadowed by longing. May have any of the formerly listed goals.

EVAN MACMILLAN / THE TRAPPER

Lucid, Possessive

Right off the bat can tell there’s something harmful about his feelings. They’re too heavy, intense; he’s wary of scaring you off, but once you establish a relationship you’re pretty much trapped, and he’s sure to make this known. He’ll sever any means of escape and isn’t terribly against offing any other persons he perceives as a threat. This might be as minor of an offense as another survivor expression concern for your situation. 

PHILIP OJOMO / THE WRAITH

Obsessive, Lucid

Will largely attempt to repress his feelings, sensing that it can’t quite be healthy. He considers himself too horrible of a person to ever be able to offer you a stable relationship, so he pines from afar. It aches endlessly, but he is unlikely to act on his emotions. This might come to be self-destructive, and you’ll find he lashes out at you in an attempt to distance the two of you. For your sake, he convinces himself.

SALLY SMITHSON / THE NURSE

Delusional

Her time in the fog is washed intensely in delusion. She believes, though her method cruel and unforgiving, her intentions are good-natured. The same will apply for any romantic feelings. It’s impossible to reason with her mindset, soiled with delirium, and she’ll shut down any arguments with the accusation that you’re the delusional one; she only wants to help. You’re callous, pushing her away, she convinces herself. 

MICHAEL MYERS / THE SHAPE

Possessive

He’s hard to figure out. He keeps his intentions unknowable, preferring that power over you. Feeds from your unease, and thrives off of displays of fear. He wants a reaction, that much is obvious, and no means are excessive to get that out of you. It is unavoidable that he will eventually tire of you; when you spend so long jabbing at your food with a fork, it gets cold. When that time comes, he’ll rid of you lethally. 

HERMAN CARTER / THE DOCTOR

Lucid, Manipulative

Well aware his feelings could quickly become dangerous, though doesn’t find himself caring an awful lot. He has way too much fun messing with you, making you doubt yourself, him, others. Might also be categorized as the type to isolate you, purposefully confining you, starving you of interaction beyond him. His end goal is to make you entirely and completely reliant on him, though finds the process more exciting than the desired objective. 

ANNA / THE HUNTRESS

Possessive, Isolating

To a certain degree she is definitely delusional, but I wouldn’t consider it severe enough to categorize her as such. She recognizes your fear, though believes it’s something that can be overcome with a lot of pushing. In that regard, she's impatient, and is swift to become frustrated at an immediate lack of progress. Oblivious to why you would ever need anyone else beyond her; she supplies all you’d require.

BUBBA SAWYER / THE CANNIBAL

Dependent, Possesive

Partly delusional, but knows you’re unwilling. Still, relies on you for a feeling of normalcy, that distant echo of a real, functional relationship. Couldn’t bear the thought of you with anyone else, so much he might resort to threats of violence to coerce you into staying. Whether these are empty or significant falls on you to figure out. Liable to tantrums when you’re away, though the severity of these outbursts is determined by his current stability. 

AMANDA YOUNG / THE PIG

Lucid, Manipulative 

Fairly coherent regarding her emotions, though this regulation never translates into her actions, which are twisted by impulse and anxieties. Unintentionally incredibly manipulative, will very quickly turn to self-destructive exploits to gain your sympathy and convince you to stay. Eventually, she stops caring if you’re only sticking around out of a feeling of necessity. If you ever show intent to leave, though, she’d panic. Can’t conceive a life without you now that she’s met you. 

RIN YAMAOKA / THE SPIRIT

Dependent, Manipulative

Another case of unintentional manipulation. On the verge of lucidity, but blinded by the hunger for comfort and stability you offer her. If she feels you’re losing interest, may also fall back on harmful habits, though herself isn’t certain if it’s a cry for recognition or a method of escapism. Horrified of losing you, and it’s very clear that’s the case, however she tries to subdue such feelings. Becomes incredibly reliant on you very quickly. Fixates on any acts of kindness. 

THE LEGION

FRANK

Possessive

Possessive through and through. I can’t really see him fall into any of the other categories much, but may also employ a bit of manipulation, usually in the field of threats against loved ones. It’s never clear if he’d follow through on these remarks, but given his impulsivity and history of spontaneous violence, you’d prefer not to risk it. Intensely against you socializing outside of the Legion, where he trusts them immensely and sometimes relies on them to keep you in check.

JULIE

Possessive, Isolating

Can be likened to Frank, but will never entirely trust you around the rest of the Legion; she loves them so, but is dazed in her worries of losing you. Often lashes out at them, all in her desperation to confine you to her. Never above physical threats if it means you staying. Her capacity for guilt will gradually thin, though there are moments, glimpses of lucidity where she reflects inconsolably over her actions. It all falls into a cycle, though, and she traps herself in a descending spiral. 

JOEY

Lucid, Possessive

His descent is a gradual, aching one. He watches passively as he careens into devastating obsession, worsening but with no will to stop it. Like Julie, he adores the family he’s established in the Legion, but can’t stand the possibility of losing you to one of them. It would be more personally crushing, so he figures he’d rather be safe than sorry. Calmer than Frank, but not entirely beyond threats of violence if he felt the situation called for it. 

SUSIE

Obsessive, Dependent

Lucid to a degree; she’s never been in a relationship herself, and the possibility of a stable one now is unfeasible in these circumstances, but she’s witnessed enough to understand there’s something profusely wrong with her feelings. Eventually, her mood will come to depend heavily on yours, and how you treat her. Praise and displays of affection make her day, though alternatively, something as simple as a drop in tone can ruin her entirely.  

ADIRIS / THE PLAGUE

Possessive, Delusional

Adiris is not delusional in the sense of wrongly believing you return her feelings, but instead, ignores the possibility entirely. She’s banished the notion from her mind, naively trusting that you love her wholly and unquestioningly. It will take time for her to view you as equal and acknowledge you have needs separate from her; she prefers the bliss of complete control over you. She finds comfort in her ignorance, and would never want to trade that for the much more bitter reality. 

DANNY JOHNSON / THE GHOST FACE 

Lucid, Possessive

Absolutely aware of the unhealthy nature of his emotions, though thrives off the high of it. As time goes on, he needs more and more to reach that pleasure again, until he’s wrung you dry, left you empty and disjointed, and no longer sees a use in you. Views you as a beloved item, and treats you as he pleases, which is dictated by his mood (which itself fluctuates sharply). Threats are abundant but sporadic; you could be having a nice dinner and he’d flip out a knife and direct it at your neck. 

CALEB QUINN / THE DEATHSLINGER

Possessive

Does not exactly view you as an object or possession as much as he views you as just his. Wants you to be reliant, and never expects you to stray far from his side. He’ll show you off to the other killers, boasting, going on about how obedient you are, no matter if you express discomfort; he laughs it off coldly. Quickly gets frustrated at any acts he might consider instances of disobedience or defiance. Relies heavily on threats, and he can get intense. 

PYRAMID HEAD / THE EXECUTIONER 

Possessive

He is an intriguing case. The only real category I could see him falling into is possessive, where in his head you belong to him and in return, he is to protect you. If he failed that task, the only reasonable response would be punishment. Similarly, if you exhibit a lack of faith, he’ll supply discipline as he sees fit. There’s no way out once you take that plunge; a beast that can’t perish and a realm that won’t let you die sets up an eternal commitment. 

[ghostsray]

danny grows baby fangs

truce gift for @phantomofprocrastination!! happy new decade :)

word count: 3,080

____

Being friends with a rival ghost has its pros and cons. The pros are that Danny can call on them whenever he needs help fighting a bigger, badder ghost. The cons are that this does nothing to stop his ally from attacking him whenever they like.

He was awoken in the dead of night (pun intended) by his ghost sense escaping his throat. He quickly transformed and flew outside, preparing to fight a ghost wreaking havoc. Instead, he was met by Johnny, who asked for a spar.

Danny sighed and ran a hand across his face. "Really? You couldn't have picked a better time for this?"

"Of course not!" Johnny delightfully replied. "All the humans are asleep, so you don't have to worry about hurting any of them."

That was...surprisingly thoughtful. Still didn't make it any less annoying. Danny fixed him with a glare and said, "Johnny. I'm half human. I also need to sleep."

The ghost's eyes widened, and his mouth formed a circle. "Oh."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Can you go back to the GZ so I can get back to bed?"

Unfortunately, he already knew the answer he would receive when Johnny's face twisted into a wicked smirk. "But you're already here, aren't you? And I do have some energy I need to let out..."

"Dude, I swear..."

Danny didn't have time to finish his threat because the biker ghost was already sending his shadow to attack him. Inwardly, Danny groaned. Here he thought that he was making good progress this year in befriending his previous enemies, but it turns out they're too trained in Hating Danny On Sight to fully stop torturing him.

Danny blocked another swing from the shadow. He formed a ball of ectoplasm in his hands and used its light to fend the phantom off. As he watched it retreat, he bared his teeth at Johnny with a growl, trying to convey clearly that he wasn't happy.

For some reason, Johnny had the opposite reaction. He held up a hand to hold his shadow back and stared at Danny. "Wait, do that again," he said.

Danny frowned, confused. "Do what?"

"Bare your teeth."

Danny was Hella Confused, but he did as he was asked. Johnny clapped his hands and laughed.

"You're growing baby fangs!"

"...What."

The older ghost got closer until he was floating right in front of Danny's face. He pointed at the halfa's mouth, and his face adopted the kind of expression Jazz would make if she saw a baby animal. "Right there," the ghost said with a smile, "the cutest, widdwest baby fa--"

All of a sudden, a light enveloped Johnny, and he looked down to see the halfa sucking him into a Fenton thermos. "Hey! Not fair!" he whined, his voice shrinking as he went in.

"Sorry, but you deserved it," Danny spoke into the cylinder before he closed it.

He sunk from his spot in the air until his boots touched the ground. As soon as he did, he thought about what Johnny said. Now that he noticed, his gums were hurting. When he touched them with his tongue, he felt something sharp growing among his teeth. What did Johnny say? Fangs?

Danny looked at the building sitting across from his home. The lights indoors were all turned off, and the windows perfectly reflected the street and Danny on it. Danny let himself hover an inch off the ground and floated toward the glass. Once he got close enough, he studied his reflection.

Over the years, his ghost form had changed into something a bit more...ghostly. Before, the only parts of his appearance that changed were his eye and hair colors. Now, his hair became wispy, his skin grew tinted green, and even the freckles that had long ago faded from his human skin now literally glowed in ghost form.

Danny ignored these details. (He especially ignored how uncomfortable he felt seeing himself look less and less human.) Instead, he opened his mouth and focused on the trait Johnny pointed out to him.

Sure enough, two small, white points were growing from where his canine teeth should be. Danny stared. Were those really going to grow into fangs? Honestly, he's not sure why he was surprised. Pretty much every ghost he knew had fangs. Even Vlad did, and he's a halfa too.

He grinned at his reflection, and the reflection grinned back, showing off his brand new pair of fangs. Danny tried to imagine what the would look like on him once they grow, replacing the small points with something longer and sharper.

This was a mistake.

Suddenly the image before him seemed eerily familiar. Wispy hair, almost like fire. Greenish skin bordering on teal. Growing muscles underneath his jumpsuit. And fangs.

The grin was gone from Danny's face, but the reflection still smiled. Since when had its eyes turned red?

Danny took a shaky step back.

It was him.

The thermos slipped from his hands with a clunk. He gulped.

He was turning into him.

Fire entered Danny's nose. Fire, and the smell of burning flesh. He whipped around, eyes out of focus. The Nasty Burger. It was gone. The flames licked the sky and danced on where the building once stood.

His family. His friends. He couldn't save them.

"No," he softly said, as if that could erase the scene before him.

He dropped onto his knees on the pavement. The smoke stung his eyes and filled his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

"No," he repeated, gasping and gripping onto his hairs. "No, no, no."

His eyes fell on the thermos next to him. The metal surface reflected Danny's face, but it wasn't the face he saw in the mirror yesterday. It was his face from tomorrow. Red eyes, wispy hair, and grinning at him with long, sharp fangs.

An ecto-blast shot past his ear, jolting Danny back to reality. He looked up, his eyes finally focusing on someone standing over him...someone wearing a teal jumpsuit and red goggles...his mom?

But he saw her die, didn't he? There was the explosion, and...and she was blasted apart like everyone else...and then...oh, right.

It felt like he was finally waking up. The air around him was clear. He wasn't in front of the Nasty Burger, he was in front of his own house. And even if he was there, the restaurant would still be standing. The explosion never happened. Clockwork erased that timeline.

His family was still alive. Maddie was still alive.

A fact that helpfully made itself apparent by the gun she was pointing at him.

"Why are you doing that?" his mother asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Doing what?" he replied.

"Pretending to cry."

Danny touched his cheeks. Was he really crying? Sure enough, his gloves came back wet.

"Answer me, phantom," Maddie's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and bitter.

Danny let his hands fall onto his lap and gulped. "I'm not pretending."

"Of course you are," Maddie stated matter-of-factly. "Ghosts can't shed genuine tears. After all, it's not like they can feel--"

"Yes, they can," Danny suddenly snapped. "They feel! All they do is feel! That's why they're aggressive. Not because they lack emotion, but because they're created from it! Not that it matters to you, since you never listen to what I say."

Maddie's jaw dropped. As soon as the words left Danny's mouth, he knew it was out of character for him. Phantom was a smooth ghost who only spoke to tell bad puns and mock his enemies. He never snapped at anyone like that. A part of him felt ashamed for yelling at his mother, but he wasn't in the mood to feel guilty about it.

He averted his eyes and wiped at his tears. Man, he must have looked pathetic. Why was Maddie even out here? Of course, he had forgotten that his parents had almost as little sleep as he did. She was probably pulling an all-nighter working on some new invention to kill him when she noticed the ghost having a breakdown outside their house.

Danny tried to ignore the embarrassment he felt and pushed himself to his feet. If Maddie noticed the way he shook as he pulled himself up, she didn't comment on it. He took a deep breath. The smell of fire still lingered in his nose.

"Never mind," he said, not looking at her as he spoke. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you tonight." He turned away and prepared to take flight, but a hand suddenly gripped at his wrist, and he turned back to see Maddie holding on to him.

"Wait," she said. After a moment of hesitation, she let go and...lowered her gun? "Let's assume I believe what you said, about ghosts feeling emotion. Why are you crying?"

Danny had to assure himself that he wasn't dreaming. Talking and not shooting? That was new. He must have stared at her for a long time in surprise, because she frowned and urged, "Well?"

He blinked and looked down. "It's nothing."

"So you are faking?"

"What? No!"

"Then what is it?"

He bit his lip. How could he even begin to explain it? Hey, no biggie, but I sort of saw an alternate timeline where I went evil and killed you, which happened a long time ago but apparently I'm not as over it as I thought. Yeah, no. Instead, he asked, "Why do you care?"

He looked up and saw something soften in her face. Her brows knitted, but in an I'm-willing-to-hear-you kind of way, just like the days in his childhood when she sat next to him in bed, ready to soothe him as he woke up crying from another nightmare. It made him meet her eyes, forgetting for just a moment that they were supposed to be enemies. She was not Maddie the ghosthunter, but Mom.

Then the illusion broke when she said, "With how much power you have, it is my duty as a ghosthunter to make sure you dont step out of line. Anything that would cause you to act differently from usual should concern me."

His chest crumpled. Of course she didn't care, and why would she? He was a ghost. This was nothing more than another duty for her as a ghosthunter.

He tried not to show his disappointment, but it must have shown anyway because Maddie asked, "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," he lied. "Of course not."

She sighed. "Of course not." She crossed her arms and turned away, then muttered under her breath, "I don't know why I thought I could help a ghost. I can't even help my own children."

Danny guessed he wasn't meant to hear that last part, but he did. He stared at her incredulously and asked, "What?"

She stiffened, then quickly said, "Nothing. I don't need to tell you about my family life."

He took one step toward her, then immediately took a step back when she aimed her gun on him. Right, he forgot she didn't holster that.

"I mean it," she warned. "This isn't about me."

He stumbled and fell onto the pavement. Maddie stood over him, still aiming her weapon at him. Were they not just having a moment? Obviously not. Maddie Fenton was never one to have moments with a ghost.

"Really, quit breathing. I know you don't need to do that."

Danny only then noticed how hard his chest was rising and falling. He gulped. "I can't keep doing this," he suddenly spoke.

The hand holding the gun faltered. "Doing what?"

His eyes stung, but he held back his tears because he knew she would tell him he was faking again, and he didn't want that to happen. Instead, he fixed his eyes on the red goggles that covered hers and said, "Fighting you, being your enemy, until the day you die."

Maddie remained calm as she said, "You're a ghost. I'm a ghosthunter."

"That doesn't mean we have to fight." He gestured between them and added, "I mean, we were just having a conversation. At least until you pulled out your gun again."

"Is that why you brought me out here?"

"I didn't. You came on your own."

"You were acting strange," she replied. "You still didn't answer why."

His core thrummed against his chest as he continued to stare into her gun. Why are you crying? Because he's still scared of becoming his evil self. Because he doesn't want to hurt his family. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw their scorched remains, and he doesn't want to be the person to cause that to happen.

"I don't want to be a bad ghost," he answered.

Maddie tilted her head. "That can't be it," she spoke in her snobby scientist voice. "Ghosts dont have a sense of right and wrong--"

"Would you stop making assumptions about ghost morals? I'm the ghost here, not you."

That was the second time he snapped at her. He tore his eyes away from her, instead choosing to glare at the street. Maddie was quiet. "...You're serious," she finally said.

"Yeah, no shit."

She lowered her gun...just slightly. "That still doesn't explain things," she said. "Why the sudden reaction? The tears?"

His eyes landed on the thermos that lay a few feet away, reflecting his green skin and wispy hair and glowing eyes on its surface. His gums hurt.

Danny shut his eyes and gulped back bile. "I...I did something bad, okay?" he said, his voice small. "I thought I could forget about it, but I can't. I--I don't want it to happen again."

A moment of silence hung between them, broken only by the soft whistle of the breeze. He hoped she wouldn't ask, but he knew the question was coming anyway. "What did you do?"

His hands shook. He gripped them into fists, but that did nothing to ebb his emotions.

"Phantom," Maddie urged. "What did--"

"I killed people!" The tears escaped his eyes, which opened to reveal toxic green irises that shone brighter than the streetlights. He faced Maddie, his expression contorted in guilt and pain and Ancients why do his gums still hurt as he cried, "I killed people. They died, and it was because of me. I killed them."

He waited for her to get angry at him, to shoot him. Instead, she gave him a reaction he didn't expect.

"Now I know you're faking," she said, lowering her gun completely.

He blinked away his tears. "What?"

"Feeling guilt over someone's death? Ghosts can't care about that." She held up a hand and continued, "Before you argue again about whether ghosts have morals or not, I'm talking about the concept of life and death. You're dead, so you shouldn't be able to bother over whether others are, too."

Danny sat back and let those words sink in. Was that why his alternate self had seemed so heartless? He had removed his humanity, and along with it, any sympathy he had left toward life. If Danny had fully died in that portal, would he...?

He shook his head. He didn't want to think about that. "But I don't want others to suffer the same fate I did," he argued.

"That's not what other ghosts seem to think," Maddie pointed out. "Even if your obsession was saving others, it should be easy for you to get over a few deaths after some time has passed. It simply doesn't make sense for you to care." She crouched until she was at eye level with him and inquired, "So tell me, Phantom. What makes you so different?"

"...I don't know." What else could he say without revealing his secret? He truthfully told her, "I never asked to be this way."

She scrutinized him, as if looking at him could somehow reveal the truth. After a while, she sighed and stood up...and holstered her gun.

"I can never understand you," she said. "You're just...so human. Your emotions, your thinking, your morals, even your appearance."

He perked up. "You think I look human?"

She looked at him as if he just said the dumbest thing on the planet. "Of course you do," she answered. "Even if you've changed since your first appearance, the change isn't nearly as much as it should be for such an increase in power as yours. Other ghosts your power level would look much more monstrous. But not you. You may grow claws and fangs, but you can still pass as a person."

Danny was dumbfounded. Here he was worried that he might be losing his humanity, and now he was proven wrong by none other than one of the world's leading ghost researchers, his own mother. He thought that was as much relief as he could feel, and then she said,

"You're not a bad ghost, Phantom."

He bit the insides of his mouth to keep himself from crying again because dammit he's already cried enough times this night already. Instead, he blurted out the thing that was on his mind in that moment, which was, "You're not a bad mom."

Mom faltered. For a second, Danny worried that he screwed up. He should not have said that, now she's going to try shooting him again and then everything that just happened would be a waste... But she didn't do that. He couldn't read her face well from underneath her mask, but something crossed her face. She observed him silently, and he squirmed, wondering what she saw. She opened her mouth to say something, but then changed her mind and turned away without a word, leaving the halfa behind as she went back indoors.

Danny sat in the middle of the empty street, watching his mom leave. What just happened? He wasn't sure, but Mom just left without leaving him an injury, which he didn't think could be possible. The world lit up around him as the sun rose from the east.

Shit, he had to return home before someone could walk into his room and find it empty. He fumbled around until he caught the thermos, then paused to look at his reflection. He saw...himself. No evil alternate self. No monster from the future. Just Danny Phantom, existing in the present.

He grinned, showing off his brand new pair of fangs.

Now that he thought about it, having fangs sounds pretty cool.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXVIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: From chapter 25 to 36 I just love everything -Danny

Words: 5,260 

Series’ Masterlist

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Listen to: ‘Payphone’ -by Maroon 5

Chapter Twenty-Six: Delusions of Power.

Mel spent the next days in constant anxiety. 

She even stopped her mischief out of fear of how the interview could backfire, it was keeping her awake at night. 

At the end of a particularly rough quidditch practice Ron, Ginny and her were walking back to the castle in a very grim mood, but they still were curious about what exactly had Mel added to Harry's story.

"Well, you know," Their friend replied as she undid her braid. "Talked about Barty Jr. and how his father brought him from Azkaban — and that he fired Winky, which was a complete lack of respect for the honourable work of House-elves  (Hermione was very pleased with that part), I talked about the corruption in the Ministry, that Fudge made it very clear that the main reason why he didn't want to act was because of the money he was getting from pureblood families involved... I reckon I'll never get a job in the Ministry after this."

"I hope this works out," Ginny said. "Maybe the Order we'll get more help once people read the article, your version makes much more sense than whatever Fudge wants to sell to the public."

They walked into the Great Hall leaving mud stains on their path, Hermione and Harry were having dinner already, and they seemed to be arguing.

"Is that what she was doing?" Harry was asking. "Well, wouldn't it have been easier if she'd just asked me whether I liked her better than you?"

"Girls don't often ask questions like that," Hermione responded.

"Well, they should! Then I could've just told her I fancy her, and she wouldn't have had to get herself all worked up again about Cedric dying!"

"You're still talking about that?" Mel frowned. "Listen, I agree with you about Cho exaggerating a bit, but to be fair you're slow at picking up hints."

"You're one to talk," Harry retorted. 

"I'm not saying what she did was sensible," said Hermione, throwing a nervous glance at them and interrupting before things got awkward. "I'm just trying to make you see how she was feeling at the time."

"You should write a book," Ron said, "translating mad things girls do so boys can understand them."

"Yeah!" said Harry.

"Girls are humans just like you," Mel scowled. "There are no 'rules' — Just try to get to know the girl for a change instead of just looking for a quick snog."

Harry looked back at the Ravenclaw table wistfully, Cho was leaving it with her friend Marietta, and she didn't glance his way before walking out.

"So, how was Quidditch practice?" He sighed, turning his attention back to his friends.

"It was a nightmare," said Ron.

"Oh come on," Hermione tried, "I'm sure it wasn't that —"

"Yes, it was," Ginny pouted. "It was appalling. Angelina was nearly in tears by the end of it."

Mel let out a long sigh and pushed her hair out of the way, it was starting to get a bit impossible to handle at this point and it was always messy, she really needed to get rid of half of it.

"Can't say I'm doing marvellous work as a beater if I'm honest. I'm not as strong as Angelina would like..."

By the time Mel was going to play her first game ever the atmosphere was extremely dense. Her Hufflepuff friends wished her luck in a way that let her know they already felt like the winners. She couldn't blame them, Ron was looking greener and greener with every step he took towards the dressing room. 

Mel was about to enter when Fred caught up and kissed her. She couldn't even react properly.

"For good luck!" He smirked. "Isn't that the tradition?"

Mel was flustered, she ushered him away and stood there in shock, hearing as he laughed about her reaction with George. Someone cleared his throat behind her, it was Harry.

"When did you get here?" She asked in dread.

"Just a moment," Harry said, a faint blush on his cheeks. "But I saw you were... er... having a moment. I figured it was better if I just waited until Fred was gone."

"Okay," Mel said clumsily, pushing her hair back. 

"I wanted to wish you good luck," He said. "It's your first game... when it was my game you were there so... it's my turn, isn't it?"

"You don't have to," Mel said, panicking about Harry kissing her cheek after such a long time without physical contact. She no longer knew what boundaries existed between them. 

"It's the least I can do," Harry hesitated before awkwardly stepping forward, holding out his hand so she could shake it.

Mel grabbed it and shook it firmly.

"Good luck."

"Thanks," She smiled.

Once inside and dressed in the uniform, Mel stared at her reflection in awe. 

"I'm wearing a Quidditch uniform," She told Ginny. "And I look so good..."

"Yeah, yeah, you're pretty," Ginny rolled her eyes grinning. "Let's go, before your big-head stops you from looking away..."

The good part? Ginny caught the snitch. 

They still lost.

She'd threw a bludger directly to a chaser and caused him to drop the quaffle, but Slope was dreadful, he kept missing every time. Ron was beyond miserable when the game was over, now not only the Slytherins were singing, but also the Hufflepuffs. 

Back in the common room, once she had taken a bath, she walked in and listened to Harry and Ginny's conversation as she sat down tiredly next to them, hanging her legs over the armrest and leaning on Ginny's shoulder.

"I was lucky," The girl was saying. "It wasn't a very fast snitch and Summerby's got a cold, he sneezed and closed his eyes at exactly the wrong moment. Anyway, once you're back on the team —"

"Ginny, I've got a lifelong ban."

"You're banned as long as Umbridge is in the school. There's a difference. Anyway, once you're back, I think I'll try out for Chaser. Angelina and Alicia are both leaving next year and I prefer goal-scoring to seeking anyway." 

Mel sighed, rubbing her temples. 

"You were right about how cathartic it is to be a Beater, but I think I'm not good enough for the position. Maybe chaser— or even seeker, if Harry insists on staying on the bench —"

"It's not like I want to stay there, you know?"

"If you say so," The girl yawned.

"Angelina still won't let him resign," Ginny added, making a vague head movement towards her brother. "She says she knows he's got it in him."

"Because he does," Mel rolled her eyes. "That idiot... if I could take away his insecurities by knocking his lights out with a bludger, I'd do it."

The next morning during breakfast was the moment when the bomb dropped. Two editions of the Quibbler arrived –one for Mel and one for Harry– inside they had their interviews. Not only that, but at least ten owls landed around the table, all with letters directed to them.

"It's good, isn't it?" Luna sat down between Fred and Ron. "It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these are letters from readers."

"That's what I thought," said Hermione. "Guys, d'you mind if we — ?"

"Help yourself," said Harry. 

"I'm too scared to touch any of those," Mel said hesitantly. "Don't want anything on my face..."

"This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker, Harry," said Ron. "Says Mel is probably hormonal — gross lad, honestly. Ah well..."

"This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St. Mungo's," said Hermione.

"This one looks okay, though," said Harry, he was reading through the mail now as well. "Hey, she says she believes us!"

"This one's in two minds," said Fred who had taken the liberty to open the one's directed at Mel. "Says you don't come across as mad people, but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back so he doesn't know what to think now... Blimey, what a waste of parchment. I would believe you in a second, Lady."

"Thank you Fred, but I'm afraid you're biased," Mel grinned, deciding to start opening letters too.

"Here's another one you've convinced!" said Hermione happily. "'Having read your side of the story I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly... Little though I want to think that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth... and Miss Dumbledore's claims seemed to be legitimate, I had a friend who got in trouble with the Ministry and they forgave him in no time after he let go of a few galleons...' Oh, this is wonderful!"

"Another one who thinks you're barking," said Ron, throwing the letter without paying attention, "but this one says you've got her converted, and she now thinks you're a real hero — she's put in a photograph too — wow —"

"At this rate, you won't have to worry about any future dates with Cho," Mel teased.

"What is going on here?" Umbridge asked over their heads. "Why have you got all these letters, Mr Potter, Miss Dumbledore?"

"Is that a crime now? Getting mail?" Fred frowned.

"Be careful, Mr Weasley, or I shall have to put you in detention. Well, Mr Potter?"

Harry pondered his options quietly but shared one resolute look with Mel and knew there was no point. She would find out eventually.

"People have written to us because we gave an interview," said Harry. "About what happened to me last June." 

"And about how much of a fraud Fudge is," Mel concluded.

"An interview? What do you mean?" Umbridge asked.

"I mean a reporter asked us questions and we answered them," said Harry. "Here —" 

He threw his copy at Umbridge and Mel got a pleasant tug at the base of her stomach at the sight. It quickly faded as she watched the woman read carefully all they'd said.

"When did you do this?" She breathed.

"Last Hogsmeade weekend," said Harry.

"There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you two." 

"How would've guessed?" Mel replied carelessly.

"How you dare... how you could... I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Miss Dumbledore, hadn't I told you to learn where your place is? You have no right to speak like that about your Minister!"

Mel thought that if she was already in trouble, she was going to earn it fully. 

"I thought you'd understand, isn't blood status your biggest priority? That's why you're giving Hagrid such a hard time, right? I'm just following your lead," She glanced at the teachers' table, where Dumbledore was talking to Flitwick without paying attention to them, although she had the feeling he was just pretending. "I'll always be loyal to my people."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions!" Umbridge spat, barely able to control her anger. 

"It'll be my pleasure!" Mel shouted, watching the woman stomp away from the Great Hall.

Hermione and Mel smiled at each other at the sight of the decree.

— by order of —

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.

Signed:

High inquisitor.

"What exactly are you so happy about?" Harry asked them. 

"Oh Harry, don't you remember what Mel said? If she could have done one thing to make absolutely sure that every single person in this school will read your interview, it was banning it!" 

If Mel was popular before, now she was almost idolized. The only student at school that had stood up against Umbridge apart from Harry. Of course, there were people like Malfoy, and kids that were related to the death eaters that were definitely not happy about it, but little did they know that Daphne and Erick had her back. Not only that, but several Slytherins were starting to realize some things, as Mel would find out in her next D.A. meeting.

The students weren't the only ones making quiet declarations, Professor Sprout rewarded Harry with twenty points when he'd done nothing but to pass her an empty watering can. Flitwick discretely gave them two boxes of squeaking sugar mice during his class and ran away almost as fast as he'd approached. 

Trelawney openly wept and claimed that Harry was not going to suffer an early death after all, but he and Mel would live to a ripe old age, become Minister of Magic and have twelve children. Since she didn't specify which part was for each, Mel blushed deeply at the mention of babies.

Even Cho forgave Harry for his silly mistake on Valentine's day, and she was telling to anyone who was interested that they had shared a lovely date the day he'd done the interview, and that she was very proud of him. 

Fred was another person who was taking great pleasure in strutting around the castle with Mel by his side. Students would look at him with sneers and faces of contempt, and although Mel didn't appreciate being treated like a prize, she was definitely enjoying the way Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott would glare at her from across the hall without being able to touch her.

Seamus approached her and Harry before their Transfiguration class.

"I just wanted to say," He said, avoiding their eyes, "I believe you. And I've sent a copy of that magazine to me mam." 

Mel was so pleased that she hugged him, Seamus didn't know how to respond. That night a party took place in the common room, she hadn't seen her friends this happy for a very long time, and she was proud to be part of it.

"What you did was foolish and impulsive”

"I'm aware."

"I thought we'd agreed on keeping a low profile this year," Dumbledore stared down at her over his glasses.

"We agreed on keeping my lessons a secret. There's nothing in that interview about my lessons with you, Professor. However, we never said I couldn't talk about Fudge."

They were outside the main entrance of the castle, Dumbledore had asked her for a private word as she walked past the entrance after finishing diner. Neither Harry nor Umbridge were near, which could be part of the reason why Dumbledore had asked her now. She didn't know what he'd been doing outside at this hour, but she was more worried about the lecture she was about to get.

"This is not the time to take things lightly," Dumbledore said gravely. "You know you're one of Voldemort's targets, he wants to use you to his advantage and now you've turned into a person of interest for the Ministry as well."

"I already was," Mel replied. "I merely talked about Fudge, I kept you out of the conversation! They might accuse me of slander, but then again they're probably too afraid of you to try it."

"And you're planning to live under my shadow?" Dumbledore asked.

Mel's annoyance increased. 

"Of course not! I've improved lots this year, I daresay I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself —"

"You have to grow up first before making such decisions," Dumbledore replied in a hard tone that took her off guard. "That kind of behaviour is what kept Aberforth from turning into his best self. You mustn't follow his lead. Matthew would've wanted you to be better."

"Give me a break, won't you? I'm fifteen — I want to have fun, I hate that I have to act like an adult when all my friends are allowed to fool around and —"

"You've been given enough freedom," The man replied. "Haven't I turned a blind eye to your acts of so-called justice? It wasn't wise of me, but I allowed it. Why?"

"Because you hate Umbridge as much as everyone else?"

"Because you wish to be something else than just a Lastname. What you haven't realized is that you already are Mel, but what you're representing right now is no better than what you used to be. You're repeating history and that won't help you." 

Mel was about to reply when a woman's scream reached them. They both turned to the oak doors, hearing attentively. Two trunks came down flying and landed roughly at the foot of the marble staircase, Umbridge walked down in tiny cheerful steps, Trelawney stumbled down holding a bottle of sherry. She was looking around frantically.

"NO!" She yelled, and the students inside the Great Hall walked out to see the scene. "NO! NO! This cannot be happening... It cannot... I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realize this was coming? Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?" Umbridge asked cruelly.

"You c-can't! You c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

"It was your home, until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us." 

Surprisingly, McGonagall stepped forward and hugged the woman protectively.

"There, there, Sibyll... Calm down... Blow your nose on this... It's not as bad as you think, now... You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts..."

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge sneered. "And your authority for that statement is..?" 

Dumbledore opened the door completely, his figure stepping into the scene.

"That would be mine," He said.

Mel followed him, but she stayed behind as he reached the place where Trelawney was.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore? I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she — that is to say, I — feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."

"You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers," He smiled the same way she would do whenever she could get away with something. Her father's smile. "You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continues to live at Hogwarts."

"No — no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere —"

"No. It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll," He turned to McGonagall. "Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course. Up you get, Sibyll..."

Professor Sprout hurried to help Trelawney by holding her other arm and Professor Flitwick held out his wand and exclaimed "Locomotor trunks!" the objects floated in the air and followed the group of teachers.

"And what," Umbridge continued, so angry she could barely speak, "are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"

"Oh, that won't be a problem," said Dumbledore. "You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."

"You've found — ? You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Twenty-two —"

"— the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if — and only if — the headmaster is unable to find one. And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"

On queue, there was a sound like hooves behind her and she turned at the same time that the rest. The sight almost made her doubt her sanity, but it wasn't an illusion. There, standing in the entrance was a centaur. 

"This is Firenze— I think you'll find him suitable." Dumbledore beamed.

When the crowd erupted into loud exclamations of shock, the old man spoke in a lower voice.

"It's not about breaking the rules for the sake of provoking," He told her. "Is memorizing your way around them, so you can use them in your favour."

The sentence 'I must not tell lies' was throbbing on the back of her hand. Hermione was already waiting for her with a jar of murtlap which she and Harry took turns to use. She knew Harry had felt the first day of her detention because he quickly approached to examine her injuries, although she rejected his help.

"Now you know how it feels," She said calmly. "Now you understand why I couldn't just ignore you, right?"

Harry looked uncomfortable, yet he had no choice but to admit she was right.

Daphne Greengrass was one of the first students to arrive on the day of the D.A. meeting, but she wasn't alone. A total of eight Slytherins had accompanied her and though they looked tense, they wanted to know what Umbridge was hiding, they wanted to learn. Once again, the group welcomed them with open arms.

"You know," Ron told her while he took a break from being Hermione's partner. "I reckon you may be right, maybe not all Slytherins are evil."

"Took you long enough," Mel patted his back lovingly. "Now be a good boy and practice with one of them."

"What?!"

"Are you afraid of snakes, Ronnie?" She raised a brow.

"Of course not!" He said, his ears gaining a reddish colour. "Hey — Hey, you! What's your name?"

He walked up to a fourth-year Slytherin so they could practice together, Mel's chest swelled with pride. It was Harry's turn to walk up to her.

"Okay, you win," He sighed, looking rather impressed. "We haven't got any fights — I guess we can all be friends."

"Can you write that down and sign it?" Mel smirked.

"Nah," He walked away with a smile.

Their first divination class with Firenze proved to be highly interesting. When Mel walked in she felt slightly disoriented, like she had walked out of the castle without really wanting to.

The classroom floor had become springily mossy and trees were growing out of it; their leafy branches fanned across the ceiling and windows, so that the room was full of slanting shafts of soft, dappled, green light. 

The students who had already arrived were sitting on the earthy floor with their backs resting against tree trunks or boulders, arms wrapped around their knees or folded tightly across their chests, looking rather nervous. In the middle of the room, where there were no trees, stood Firenze.

"Harry Potter," Firenze walked up to them and shook hands with Harry.

"Er — hi– Er — good to see you..." The boy replied awkwardly.

"And you," said the centaur, inclining his white-blond head. "It was foretold that we would meet again. Miss Dumbledore, you continue to grow into your power, I see."

"Er..." Mel accepted Firenze's hand and shook it, trying not to stare at the bruise on the centaur's chest. "I... I suppose?"

She remembered the night Firenze had saved them from Quirrel, he'd said something about her 'vibrating', she knew enough about herself now to guess he meant her magical skills were quite good.

"Professor Dumbledore has kindly arranged this classroom for us," Firenze said once the students had taken a place on the ground, "in imitation of my natural habitat. I would have preferred to teach you in the Forbidden Forest, which was — until Monday — my home... but this is not possible."

"Please — er — sir —" Parvati had raised her hand, "why not? We've been in there with Hagrid, we're not frightened!"

"It is not a question of your bravery but of my position. I can no longer return to the forest. My herd has banished me."

"Herd?" asked Lavender. "What — oh! There are more of you?"

"Did Hagrid breed you, like the thestrals?" asked Dean.

Mel cringed at the question, Dean immediately realized his mistake, but it was too late.

"I didn't — I meant — sorry..."

"Centaurs are not the servants or playthings of humans," said Firenze calmly.

"Please, sir... why have the other centaurs banished you?" Parvati insisted.

"Because I have agreed to work for Professor Dumbledore. They see this as a betrayal of our kind."

Harry and Mel shifted awkwardly in their places, they could still remember the way the other centaurs had treated Firenze after helping Harry and her to leave the forest.

"Let us begin..."

[Firenze] swished his long palomino tail, raised his hand toward the leafy canopy overhead then lowered it slowly, and as he did so, the light in the room dimmed, so that they now seemed to be sitting in a forest clearing by twilight, and stars emerged upon the ceiling. There were oohs and gasps, and Ron said audibly, "Blimey!"

"Lie back upon the floor," said Firenze in his calm voice, "and observe the heavens. Here is written, for those who can see, the fortune of our races."

Mel laid down between Ron and Harry, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. The centaur's words resonated on her mind. 'Here is written, for those who can see...'

Erick's words also came to her mind.

'Knowing what's written in the stars won't help you.'

Maybe it would have. Maybe she could've skipped her whole thing with Harry and she'd be dating someone else for real, happy to have everything she wanted in life, including her best friend.

A thought crept inside her. If she would've known everything, more importantly, if she knew what's waiting for her in the future, if she still had a chance with Harry... No, she needed to get rid of those thoughts as soon as possible, they weren't even that close. Worse yet, he was dating Cho! 

All those novels she'd read for years had messed up her mind, she needed to get a grip on reality. They were over for good, she was sure someone out there was her second chance, and she just had to look around.

"I know that you have learned the names of the planets and their moons in Astronomy," Firenze's voice brought her back abruptly, "and that you have mapped the stars' progress through the heavens. Centaurs have unravelled the mysteries of these movements over centuries. Our findings teach us that the future may be glimpsed in the sky above us..."

"Professor Trelawney did Astrology with us!" said Parvati excitedly. "Mars causes accidents and burns and things like that, and when it makes an angle to Saturn, like now, that means that people need to be extra careful when handling hot things —"

"That is human nonsense."

Ron snorted beside her, Mel had to kick his foot to shut him up.

"Trivial hurts, tiny human accidents... These are of no more significance than the scurryings of ants to the wide universe, and are unaffected by planetary movements."

"Professor Trelawney —"

"— is a human," Firenze replied without getting upset. "And is therefore blinkered and fettered by the limitations of your kind."

If Mel was honest, knowing there were things that humans simply couldn't comprehend was comforting. She could be smart, but at the end of the day, she was still human and had her limits. After a whole year of feeling out of control, the idea was a glorious revelation.

"Sibyll Trelawney may have Seen, I do not know... but she wastes her time, in the main, on the self-flattering nonsense humans call fortune-telling. I, however, am here to explain the wisdom of centaurs, which is impersonal and impartial. We watch the skies for the great tides of evil or change that are sometimes marked there. It may take ten years to be sure of what we are seeing." 

Their Professor pointed to a little red dot that was right above them. 

"In the past decade, the indications have been that Wizard-kind is living through nothing more than a brief calm between two wars. Mars, bringer of battle, shines brightly above us, suggesting that the fight must break out again soon. How soon, centaurs may attempt to divine by the burning of certain herbs and leaves, by the observation of fume and flame..."

If that was really true –and she figured centaurs could be trusted to an extent– then she would live long enough to see the next war. Her hands closed in tight fists, trying to control the way they were starting to fidget.

Firenze asked them to look for shapes in the smoke of a fire, but it didn't feel like he was actually expecting them to see things. On the contrary, it was more like he was just babysitting a bunch of children he didn't find particularly clever.

Either way, he also mentioned how this technique was sometimes useless for centaurs since they could interpret the signals wrong, so in conclusion, no one should ever fully trust their own minds. Mel got the feeling that he wasn't trying to teach divination, more like rational and individual thinking. Which, in Mel's opinion, was more valuable than any kind of fortune-telling.

"He's not very definite on anything, is he? I mean, I could do with a few more details about this war we're about to have, couldn't you?" Ron whispered.

Mel didn't want to know more. Actually, she'd been comfortable in her ignorance, and she was happy being the popular, nice girl from school. Still, she knew she had responsibilities to attend. Responsibilities that she would have to pay attention to eventually, even if she didn't feel like it. A war she had to fight. 

It wasn't just her and her mother now, it was the baby,  Sirius and her uncle Lupin. It was the Weasleys, the Dumbledores, the Longbottoms, Hermione, Erick, Daphne, their classmates, and of course, Harry. 

The bell rang and Mel gave a start. Her breathing was erratic, her hands were sweating. She got up hastily and picked up her things in a hurry, but before she could leave, Firenze called her and Harry to stay for a second longer. Ron stood there, unsure of whether he should leave. Firenze noticed this and allowed him to stay, only asking him to close the door.

"You are friends of Hagrid's, are you not?" Their Professor asked them.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Then give him a warning from me. His attempt is not working. He would do better to abandon it."

"His attempt is not working?" Harry frowned.

"And he would do better to abandon it," Firenze nodded. "I would warn Hagrid myself, but I am banished — it would be unwise for me to go too near the forest now — Hagrid has troubles enough, without a centaurs' battle."

"But — what's Hagrid attempting to do?"

"Hagrid has recently rendered me a great service," said Firenze after a moment of contemplative silence. "And he has long since earned my respect for the care he shows all living creatures. I shall not betray his secret. But he must be brought to his senses. The attempt is not working. Tell him. Good day to you."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee​

[blackevermore]

x Secrets of The Lake: Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 1 }

Summary: Vladimir Masters' family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters' family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor's crimes? Vladimir doesn't know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 1693

Usually, there would be an inkling of life that swirled around the Ghost Zone that informed others of each other. Like an unspoken energy communication that told you the mood of the day or even when to stay away. Ghosts of all kinds upheld this unspoken rule since the changing times of Danny’s arrival and the lack of the ghost king. However, as Danny flew around doing a monthly check-up it seemed deader than ever. Danny could feel the energy of others around him but the energy felt timid. Danny knotted his brows and flew lower towards locations he knew certain ghosts to be at. 

He rounded Skulker's island and didn’t see the tech-head anywhere, figure, he must have been out. Maybe with Ember. He then flew by the warehouse but all the lights were cut off which was very unlike BoxGhost and Lunch Lady. Danny looked through the high windows but there was nothing but stillness. Danny hummed in concern and flew off, he wasn’t planning on going too deep into the ghost zone today, but with how awkward it felt, it might be necessary to find out what was going on. As he scanned around him for any sign of a familiar face he finally found one. Youngblood’s ship floated idly in the middle of the zone, Danny really didn't want to be bothered with the little kid but maybe it was his only chance of an answer. So Danny brought himself to the deck of the ship and looked for any sign of the rambunctious kid.

“Youngblood?” Danny called out but received nothing, not even a snicker from a hiding place. Danny called out again in hopes the young ghost would give away his hiding spot but Danny was left in silence. A quick thought crossed Danny’s mind that as soon as he lowered his guard he would be pulled into a game. And that made Danny roll his eyes in annoyance. “God I don’t have time for any of his tricks. This was a bad idea.” Danny was about to fly away until he heard the squawk of a bird.

“He’s hiding inside, he isn’t coming out until the screaming stops.” Youngblood's assistant flew around Danny then perched on the ship’s wheel.

“Screaming? What screaming?” Danny hadn’t heard any screaming coming from the Ghost Zone the last time he visited.

“Recently there have been obnoxious waves of screaming rippling through the Ghost Zone. Everyone has been staying away from venturing outside because of it.” The bird squawked and used a bonny wing to rub its face.

Danny’s brows knotted and he thought for a moment, “Where has it been coming from?” It was best if Danny quickly found out who the ghost was causing trouble and why. Danny wouldn’t say the Ghost Zone has finally found peace in a settling sense. But there was peace in a way that everyone respected one another to a degree without too much hassle. If this new ghost had a problem with said peace, Danny wanted to handle it before it caused a bigger issue. The last thing he needed right now was ghosts leaking out of the portals and staying on Earth longer than normal. The vultures were enough now that Vlad allowed them to do as they pleased.

“If we knew where it was coming from, it would have been dealt with long before you arrived.” The bird rolled its eyes then flew down to float in front of Danny’s face. “I will say some think it comes from beyond the endless paths of the ghost zone. Maybe farther depending on how far you go. Maybe you could find it before it makes everyone’s ear bleed and put a stop to it.” The bird flew away from Danny’s face and let out a few more squawks. Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose, great, he already had a lot to deal with back home and now this. With the little information he got from Youngblood's assistant, Danny started to float up and plan out what he was going to do.

But before he could get far he heard Youngblood's assistant call out to him again.

“As much as the child can be a bit much, he is still my master and I would prefer not to have to see him cry. The screaming reminds him of his mother.” With that, the bird flew back into the small peephole of the ship. Danny took the words into consideration and flew off. Well, this check-up was a mess and now Danny had to sit down and figure out what to do. With his head already swimming with what-ifs and what-nots, Danny made his way back to the Fenton portal. Maybe he could run this by Jazz if she wasn’t busy and get her opinion on it before he ventures out. As he was about to step through the portal the zone started to shake violently. Danny could hear what was coming before it was close to him and he quickly covered his ears. The scream was ungodly and knocked Danny out of balance, he had to hold on to the edge of the portal just so he wouldn’t be knocked in the other direction.

In retrospect, the scream only lasted a few seconds but for the unwilling listener, it felt like stretched out minutes. Danny knew what pain felt like, so many years of dealing with it left permanent scarring in his brain, and this scream was every bit of pain. A sudden wave of sadness peaked in Danny’s heart and tears began to form in the corners of his eyes.

“What the-” Danny quickly whipped his face, looking down at his fingers to see the wetness then back up into the void of the zone. “This isn’t good.” Danny turned around quickly and shot through the portal and closed it. Once he was back home, he changed into his human self and leaned against the lab table and sighed.

“Skulker give you a run around again?” Danny snapped his neck towards the stairs and smiled. His older sister came down the stairs looking over a stack of papers shoved into a thick book.

“What are you doing home, don’t you have some big time exam to be studying for?” Danny made quotations around ‘big time’ and smirked at his sister. Jazz had been away from home for the past 3 years at her top ivy league university in Chicago. But every so often she’d make the trip back up to visit or just to get away from the stresses of being the far smarter person, as she put it.

“I opted to take it early so I could have a long weekend.” Jazz placed her book down on the table beside Danny and crossed her arms with a smirk. “So Skulker?”

“No, something worse.”

“Worse?”

“All the ghosts are hiding from something, there is this ear killer scream rippling through the zone and no one knows where it's coming from.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck and looked towards the closed portal with worry. Although he spent far more time on Earth, the Ghost Zone was a second home to him, he couldn’t help but be sympathetic to everyone in there dealing with that.

“Could it be Pandora?” Jazz asked, Danny quickly shook his head.

“I spoke with her last month and as always she keeps her promise. It’s not Ember, she’s shacked up with Skulker and they’re fine.” Danny thought through all the possible ghosts who could cause a loud enough scream like that but they all cancelled out. Last month's check-up had everyone in the Ghost Zone perfectly okay wherever they were.

“You’re not thinking of going too far to find where it's coming from are you?” Jazz quickly became worried for her brother. He was older, smarter, wiser, and a lot quicker than three years ago. Even at 17, Danny was still her reckless 14 year old brother who chose to save the world. Danny hadn’t gone too far into the zone in all these years. Sure he had been to almost every corner but never too far where their communication broke. With the Ghost Zone being as massive as space there was no telling how far he could go or how long it would take for him to come back.

“I don't wanna think about it but I’m guessing I might have to. I got hit with one of the waves when I was coming out and I can tell by the velocity that it’s not far from the main area but still farther back.”

Jazz snickered, “The velocity? I thought you sucked at physics?” Danny knew she was trying to lighten the mood a bit from all the seriousness. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in a matter of factly manner.

“I’ll have you know staying up late and falling asleep watching space documentaries does teach you things. There’s a Planet X just outside our solar system that is too far to reflect the sun's light so it’s likely we’ll never find it because Nasa refuses to tell us about it.” Danny felt an air of power being able to flaunt his knowledge of space.

“And Pluto is a planet,” Jazz waved her hand in the air to shoo away Danny’s self-righteousness.

“Well duh, he is small but mighty and has a very big heart. Pluto is a planet to me.” Danny chuckled and Jazz shook her head before wrapping an arm around her brother to usher him back upstairs. Danny didn’t protest, he could deal with the Ghost Zone issue when he wasn’t freaking out about a new threat. It was better to figure things out when you weren’t ready to fall over and die a second time.

“Not since 2006, little bro.” Jazz smiled and allowed him to go up first. When Jazz closed the basement door behind her either of the siblings heard the dripping coming from the portal doors. Slowly but surely a puddle of water formed at the foot of the entrance.

[darks-ink]

Absurdism Chapter 11

Danny antagonizes Vlad, Valerie shows everyone why she is Amity’s best ghost hunter, and then promptly as A Regret.

Rating: Teen/K+ (a lil swearing, because teenagers, man) Warnings: - Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Additional Tags: Sibling Bonding, Family Bonding, Alternate Universe - Halfa Jazz AU, Jazz makes friends

[AO3] [FFN] [more Absurdism on Tumblr] First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

---

“Have you seen?” Jazz asked the moment she joined Phantom in their clearing.

“What, the bounty?” He shrugged, far too casual for her comfort. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Fine? It’s a million dollar bounty! The world’s best known ghost hunters are all coming to Amity, just to hunt you down! How can you not worry about that?!”

Phantom blew out a breath. “Chill, Jazz. They’re the world’s best known ghost hunters, not the best. They’re a bunch of phonies who couldn’t catch a ghost if it waved at them.”

“But—” Nerves curdled in her stomach. Why was he so dismissive?

“It’s nothing,” Phantom said, more comfortingly, like he’d finally caught onto her concern. “Really, Jazz, it’s fine. I got away from all of them when I was your age, and I could do it again now. Not that I would have to, because the bounty isn’t real.”

She blinked at him. “It’s not?”

“Nah. Or, well, in my universe it wasn’t, so I bet it’s not in this one either. Vlad set it up to lure me—you—us away from the Fenton Portal so he can steal it. And I guess I make a better target than you.” He shrugged.

“He’s probably still trying to get you out of the way,” Jazz pointed out, crossing her arms. “Since you ‘stole’ his mentorship position, and all that.”

Phantom made a face. “Ugh, yeah, probably. Really, though, I’ll be fine.”

Jazz shuffled her feet uncertainly, watching her glow flicker slightly. A reflection of her emotions, she now knew. “Are you sure? I mean, it just takes one slip-up…”

“I’m sure, Jazz.” He smiled at her. “I mean, really, the only reason why I got caught in my own universe was because I felt bad for Dad and let him catch me. And you obviously haven’t hurt his feelings like I did, so…”

She snorted, startled. “Oh my god, you let him catch you? How did you even survive your first year as a half-ghost?”

“Well, some might argue I didn’t.” Phantom winked, his grin growing more wide. “But for real, he found out that the bounty was a trap, and the ghost who put it out was going to target our family. Or, well. Jack’s family. I offered to free him from the trap if he freed me from the Fenton Weasel, and that’s pretty much how it went.” He shrugged at the end of it, like it wasn’t a big deal that their ghost-hating father caught and then released a ghost of their caliber.

“How can you act like that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously, Dad caught you and then let you go?”

“His family comes before ghosts,” Phantom pointed out, humor leaching out of his voice. “Always.”

The mood was clearly broken. Silence fell, strained and uncomfortable.

Jazz cleared her throat uncertainly. “Right, so, uh. What are we working on today?”

---

Now, Danny usually doesn’t go out looking for fights—not counting his patrols—but he figured he would make an exception this one time. Vlad was still in Amity somewhere, lurking.

Besides, he fought the elder half-ghost in his own universe. If he didn’t come to Vlad, the man would surely seek him out. Better to catch him off-guard and engage on his own terms, right?

Finding the older ghost was easy enough. Even though half-ghosts were harder to detect—thanks, ghost sense—Vlad wasn’t alone; he’d brought the three vulture ghosts along. And those? Those were easy to track down, as long as you were looking for them.

Danny glanced downwards, quickly making sure that they were high enough up that no one could overhear. Assured of this, he flew up to Vlad’s level, even though the other half-ghost hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Hey, Plasmius!” he yelled, drawing even with the four ghosts. “What the fuck are you doing in Amity?”

Vlad whirled around, his red eyes briefly blown wide open—startled. Danny had actually startled him.

The expression was quickly wiped away in favor for Vlad’s usual smooth blankness, of course, but Danny was counting it as a win anyway.

“Phantom, I presume?” Vlad hummed, as the vultures spread out behind him. An attempt at intimidation, or were they getting out of the way for a possible fight?

“Oh please, like you don’t know exactly who I am.” He rolled his eyes at Vlad. “Seriously, man, you’re not welcome here. Haven’t you caused enough trouble yet?”

“Me?” Vlad pressed a dainty hand against his chest, eyes wide and blinking innocently. “Why, Phantom, what are you accusing me off? I haven’t done a thing.”

Danny shot Vlad the flattest, most disbelieving look he could manage. “Uh huh. Sure, old man. Nothing about this bounty is sketchy at all, and it certainly has nothing to do with you. Now, for the last time. Leave this town, or I’ll make you.”

The vultures behind Vlad squawked, a dead giveaway that it was Vlad’s fault. Not that Danny had any doubt about that, but it was always nice to have proof.

He grinned at Vlad, knowing the other half-ghost hated that cocky smirk. “So, now that we’ve established that… Leave, Vlad. I’m not above fighting you.”

“What, all on your own?” Vlad quirked an eyebrow at Danny. “I didn’t know you fought without your dear… sister.” The last word, he said carefully, measured.

Danny snorted. “I’ve fought more without her than with her. But don’t you worry, I’ve got more than enough power to deal with you.”

“Big words for a ghost who hasn’t even met me before,” Vlad scoffed, flaring out his cape in a (weak) attempt at intimidation. His fists flared up with pink ectoplasm. “But if it is a fight you want so dearly, I suppose I give you that much.”

“I would prefer if you just left,” Danny bit back, firing off two quick but low-powered ecto-blasts towards Vlad, “but I’ll settle for kicking your ass.”

Vlad summoned a minimal shield, small and glass-like, reflecting the blasts. “Oh please. Bold words for a little ghost that can barely form an ecto-blast. It’s a miracle that Specter would even consider you a mentor, when you have so little to offer her.”

“You’re just jealous that she didn’t want you,” Danny countered, smirking at Vlad. His core thrummed eagerly, flooding him with energy. It had been far too long since he’d been in a serious ghost fight. “But don’t be jealous, Vladdie, because she wouldn’t have accepted your offer even if I hadn’t been around!”

He underlined the statement with another ecto-blast, bigger and more powerful than the previous two. Vlad swore, ducking underneath it—barely.

Vlad shot back a blast of pink ectoplasm in retaliation. “Don’t call me that!”

The blow petered out against a hastily formed shield, and Danny blinked innocently. “Call you what, Vladdie? Don’t you like it when people use your name?”

Vlad snarled, the ectoplasm whirling together into pink flames. “Who do you think you are, you little pest!”

Danny opened his mouth to snark back, but Vlad lunged at him and he discarded the attempt in favor of protecting himself. He dodged the first swipe, used a shield to block the second, and then blasted Vlad in the side to push him away.

“Why do you even care about Specter?” Vlad asked, once he’d recovered from the unexpected counterattack. “You say she’s your sister, but you can’t be. It must be something else.”

Oh, Vlad. For an expert of all things half-ghost, he could be incredibly oblivious. “Why can’t I be, hm? Is there some sort of limit on half-ghosts, or do you just feel threatened by the possibility that someone could’ve managed without your help and expertise?”

He could see Vlad’s brain grind to a halt at that. The man froze in mid-air, the ectoplasmic flames around his fist dying off.

“You… You can’t be,” Vlad mumbled. His voice was quiet, like he was just thinking out loud. Danny would feel bad about listening in but, hey, Vlad has done far worse. “It makes sense, but— surely I would’ve noticed? He acts like he knows me, and he’s close to Jasmine, but— no. Surely not?”

“You’re rambling, man,” Danny interrupted, leaning his chin on his hand and rattling the fingers against his cheek. “You wanna leave to have your crisis somewhere else, or are we still gonna fight?”

Vlad whirled around to him, his aura flaring brighter. “Would you shut your mouth, Daniel?!”

Immediately, Vlad snapped his mouth shut, but it was too late. His cheeks colored—an inhuman teal—and Danny realized that Vlad hadn’t even meant to say his actual name.

“You know, I usually ask people to call me Phantom or Danny, but I’ll give you a pass for this once.” Danny lounged backwards, his spine clicking as he stretched. “Seriously, though. Are you gonna leave, or what?”

A pink ecto-blast whizzed by him, and Danny raised an eyebrow. “Well, alright then. If that’s how you want to play this.”

The next blast, he intercepted with a shield. It lasted through several more shots from Vlad, before Danny suddenly dropped it, following it with an ecto-blast of his own. It caught Vlad right in the arm, breaking up the steady rhythm of firing.

In the newly made gap, Danny darted closer, angling low and bypassing Vlad entirely. Electricity crackled over his arms, and he discharged it right against Vlad’s unprotected back.

The older half-ghost was blown forward, tumbling heels over head, but he managed to straighten himself quickly. He snarled, baring his fangs, flames licking over his arms.

Danny rolled his eyes, looking as unimpressed as he felt. “You’re not that scary, man.”

He waited until Vlad opened his mouth to snark back. When he did, Danny launched a pointed icicle, swiftly followed by several more.

Vlad swore, throwing his ectoplasmic fire in front of him. Once the flames had faded, Danny could see that Vlad had gotten soaked, but he seemed unharmed.

“You’ve been underplaying your skill,” the other half-ghost commented, his voice strained. “You didn’t need Specter’s help for any of those fights of yours, did you? But why else would he train her…"

“Yo, fruitloop, I’m right here!” Danny shot another ecto-blast, but it was halfhearted, and Vlad easily shielded it. “And I think you know the answer to that last question already, don’t you?”

“It can’t be!” Vlad snapped back, aura flickering wildly. “You’re obviously experienced, and I can’t have missed— missed another for so long!”

Danny scoffed dismissively. “Clearly you can. Seriously, man, it’s been years. You’ve missed your shot by miles, and Jazz will never take you, because she knows she’ll always have her actual family. Give up, Vlad. Or learn to do better, and maybe I’ll let you help.”

Vlad snarled, vicious and animalistic. “I don’t need your pity, boy, nor your advice! I’ll get what I want sooner or later, and you’d be wise to join me before you pick the losing side.”

“I’m already with the winning side, Vlad.” Danny crossed his arms, staring Vlad down impassively. “You’re free to join us if you clean up your game, you know? But nobody wants this, Vlad. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can find happiness yourself.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vlad sneered, eyes narrowed into bright red slits. “You’re, what, sixteen? You have barely an ounce of the life experience I have. But, nevertheless, I am done here.”

Vlad caught the edge of his cape, bowing deeply. “Goodbye, Daniel. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

And, with that, he swept the cape over himself, disappearing in a swirl of pink smoke.

Danny cast out his ghost sense, confirming that Vlad had actually left. Him, and those vultures too. Uh, whoops. He’d gotten so caught up with Vlad that he forgot about the minions.

Well, they couldn’t have gotten that far. He would just have to keep an eye out during patrol.

Actually… maybe he could take Jazz out with him. That would assure her that the bounty wasn’t dangerous to him, right?

Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

---

“Wanna join me on patrol?” Phantom asked, completely out of the blue. Jazz jerked her head towards him, frowned.

“Why?”

He shrugged vaguely. “You’re worried about the ghost hunters, yeah? If you come along on patrol, you can see first-hand that they’re no danger to me. Besides, they won’t go after you—they’re only interested in the bounty.”

“Well…” She made a face. He was right, she supposed, but still… “Are they really only going to chase you, though? That seems…”

“Sketchy? Kinda shitty? Just overall a really awful thing to do? Yeah.” He shrugged, lounging in mid-air. “There’s a reason why they held off on coming here until now. They don’t care about the actual ghost hunting, they care about the money.”

“That… sucks.”

Phantom shrugged again. “It also means that they have very little experience dealing with actual ghosts, so. Not very threatening. Want to join me for patrol?”

“I guess. Are you that worried about ghosts?” She frowned at him. “I mean, won’t the ghost hunter’s presence scare off other ghosts?”

“It’s possible,” Phantom admitted, easily. “But Vlad tends to drag his vulture minions along with him, and he’s not above having those guys cause trouble just to lure us out. So I’m gonna go on patrol and find them, make sure they can’t cause a ruckus later.”

“Isn’t that exactly what he wants, though?” She sighed. “But, yeah, sure, I’ll join you on patrol. Give me a second to finish this bit of homework, and I’ll meet you outside.”

Phantom grinned, wide and bright, and saluted her. Then he was gone.

She rolled her eyes—he was definitely running head-first into a trap—but did as she’d said. Her homework was almost done anyway, and she had plenty of time for the rest later. For now, she had to make sure that Phantom wasn’t doing anything stupid.

And, yeah, in some way he was her older brother. Maybe she was a bit too worried about Phantom. He was, after all, both older and more experienced as a half-ghost. He was way stronger than she was, could beat her easily if they fought.

But he didn’t always make good decisions. And that? That wasn’t a Phantom thing. That was a Danny thing.

Besides, they both knew that Phantom wasn’t happy to be here. No matter how hard he tried to be cheery, to help to the best of his abilities… He missed his home. He wanted dearly to go home. It was clear, so clear.

So, Jazz was glad that he was staying around anyway. That he was helping her with all this, instead of looking for a way home. Sure, he said that there was no point in looking for portals back, but there must be other ways. And even if he didn’t know about them just yet, he could’ve done tons of research in the time he’d been here.

But, no. Instead he’d stuck around in Amity, helping her. Training her, mentoring her, teaching her.

With her homework swiftly finished, Jazz pushed herself away from her desk, out of her chair. She bit her lip, hesitating for just a second… Leaving with Phantom to patrol would be sneaking out, wouldn’t it? But as long as she returned before it was too late her parents wouldn’t miss her, and Danny definitely wouldn’t.

She easily shifted to her ghost form, turning invisible and intangible so she could sneak out unnoticed. From her room it was just a short flight to the rooftop where Phantom was waiting, and she dropped her invisibility almost immediately.

“All done?” Phantom asked, pushing himself to his feet. With a quick flash of light he returned to his usual ghost form—he must’ve shifted back to avoid ghost detectors.

“Yeah. Lead the way, Phantom.”

He nodded, pushing himself off of the rooftop. Jazz followed him, taking a moment to remember the first they’d met. When she could barely fly up to meet Phantom’s height, never mind follow his steady flight.

She still couldn’t match his grace in the air, but, well. Danny had always been aiming for space. It made sense that he was better at flight, at disregarding gravity, than she was.

They found the vulture ghosts faster than the ghost hunters found Phantom, which either said worrying things about the hunters, or great things about them.

Unfortunately they weren’t that much faster, and the cacophony from the human hunters distracted her and Phantom long enough for Vlad’s minions to get away from them.

“Just follow my lead,” Phantom told her, a grin on his face, before he turned a full 180 degrees and flew back over the ghost hunters chasing them—him—them. She scowled, but did as he asked.

The hunters, in four clearly-uncoordinated groups, got tangled up in each other when they tried to give chase. Only a single shot was fired in their direction, and it went so wide that Jazz was almost embarrassed for the hunter who had fired it.

With their tail thus thrown off, the two of them managed to track down one of the vultures.

“Must’ve split up,” Phantom mumbled under his breath. They were hidden from the ghost around the corner of a building, ready to chase it down. “I’ll come from the front and freeze it, you catch it in the Thermos.”

“Gotcha.” She nodded, pressing her feet against the wall so she could push herself off.

Phantom nodded back, and off they went. He shot straight at the vulture, legs immediately melting into his spectral tail, hands glowing blue. He didn’t even fire the ice beam from the distance, like she knew he could, but held off until he was practically touching the vulture before releasing the shot.

It was effective, though, she had to give him that. The ghost was frozen solid, and the Thermos sucked it up easily.

“One down, two to go,” Phantom said, rejoining her. “Let’s keep up the pace, before those suckers catch up again.”

They returned to their sweeping loops over Amity, both turning invisible when they passed the ghost hunters again. Jazz thought they had ghost detectors, but they either didn’t have them, or didn’t use them, because the hunters didn’t even notice them. Suckers.

The two of them used a similar tactic on the second vulture, once they had found him. This time, though, Phantom scared the vulture by flying at him from the front, while she caught it off-guard—and in the Thermos.

“Just one more.” She grinned at Phantom. “Are you sure you didn’t ask me along just to make this go faster?”

He laughed, holding up his hands. “Guilty as charged. But, really, do you still think those guys are a threat to me after this?”

“I guess you’re right,” she allowed. “Come on, let’s go catch that last vulture.”

Just then, both their ghost senses went off.

“Well, I guess that he’s making it easy,” Phantom said, twisting his head to look upwards. “Oh, yeah, there he is.”

Jazz followed his pointing finger, and indeed, there the third vulture ghost was. Way up high, and actively flying around.

“What are we waiting for?” She smirked at Phantom, Thermos already in her hand. “Let’s get him.”

He grinned at the challenge, and before she could move, he launched himself upwards. Jazz laughed, quickly flying after him, even if she couldn’t match his speed.

The vulture squawked when Phantom hit him, apparently forgoing ghostly tactics to just body-slam the vulture at top speed. Jazz worried for a moment about how she was supposed to catch him in a Thermos, but Phantom was already turning around, arms still wrapped around the ghost.

They leveled out with her, stopping abruptly, and Phantom released the ghost. Apparently the maneuver had disoriented the vulture, because he didn’t even try to fly away.

Jazz uncapped the Thermos, held it up, and captured the ghost in its vortex. Satisfied with a job well done, she capped the Thermos again, clicking it back on her belt.

“And that was the last of them,” she said, a satisfied hum to her core.

Phantom dusted his hands, grinning at her. “Yeah. Thanks for the help, it really made things easier for me.”

“Not that you needed the help,” she countered with a shake of her head. “Seriously, those ghost hunters are just sad. I know that people don’t like it when we protect the town, but we have to be better than that, right?”

“The Fentons aren’t that bad either,” Phantom pointed out with a shrug. “And there’s always Val.”

“There sure is,” a familiar voice answered, and Jazz’ eyes snapped upwards. Red, and a lot of it. The whine of some sort of technology, and a blinding flash of light.

Jazz clenched her eyes shut, slowly opening them when the light faded again.

Valerie stood on her hoverboard, a knock-off Thermos in her black-gloved hands. It was nigh impossible to read her expression thanks to her mask, but Jazz thought she was frowning down at the device.

Wait.

Where was Phantom?

She looked around, but there was no trace of him. It was like he… disappeared.

Oh.

“Did you just catch my brother?” she bit at Valerie, twisting back to look at her. “I thought you were alright with us!”

Valerie scoffed, shoving her Thermos in a holster on her thigh. “There were more important targets. It’s a thing called prioritizing.”

“What, and we suddenly pushed to the top of your priorities?” Jazz asked, but cold realization seeped in. “Oh, no, of course. It was the bounty, wasn’t it?”

“Oh please.” Valerie huffed, her tone of voice making it sound like she rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t expect a ghost to understand what that money means to me, to my family.”

“There is no money!” Jazz snapped back, feeling her glow flare out, ectoplasm sparking around her fists. “It’s a trap, Huntress! Just let Phantom go. Don’t do this.”

“Or what?” Valerie bit back. “You’ll attack me? Not good for your status as protector, is it?”

“I’m serious! It’s a trap, alright, and you won’t get the money.” Jazz darted around to block Valerie’s path. “The bounty isn’t real, some ghost put it out because he wants Phantom out of the way, I swear!”

Valerie scoffed, pushing Jazz out of her way. “Yeah, I don’t believe you. Leave, Specter, or I’ll shoot you.”

“Fine.” Jazz moved aside, crossing her arms. “Go, then, prove me right. But don’t blame me if this comes back to bite you in the ass, Huntress.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Valerie murmured, shaking her head. Her hoverboard roared to life, and away Valerie went—with Phantom captured in a Thermos.

“Ugh,” Jazz sighed, immediately dropping her stern posture. “I can’t believe— Of course she would be out here too, hunting for the bounty.”

She knew she should go out after them, should free Phantom, but… there wasn’t all that much she could do. Valerie would probably release Phantom sooner or later herself, once she discovered that it really was a trap. And Phantom wouldn’t want her to follow, either. Would want her to keep her house, and the ghost Portal, safe.

So she reluctantly turned around, flying back home.

No ghost hunters bothered her.

---

Danny had some experience with getting captured with ghost hunting devices, but the Thermos always remained one of his least favorites. The Weasel, at least, allowed him to overhear the outside, to still feel like he existed. The Thermos was… was nothing. From the moment he went in to the moment he was released again, it was like no time had passed.

It wasn’t… uncomfortable, or something. It just… didn’t exist. As long as he was in the Thermos, he was completely and utterly unaware. It was like no time passed at all; he was just suddenly elsewhere, and also it was three hours later.

He tumbled back into awareness—literally—staring right into Valerie’s mask. It was creased heavily around her brows, a clear sign of her frowning at him. And glaring, probably, knowing Valerie.

They were inside a cage of sorts, the bars made out of pink ectoplasm. Ah, yes. Danny remembered this part.

“I hate your sister,” Valerie told him, leaning right into his face. “I want you to know that.”

“Duly noted.” He rolled his shoulder, grimacing at the sound of it crackling. “She warned you about the trap, huh?”

Valerie hissed, low, and Danny raised his hands. “Chill, it’s fine. Specter can be a bit of a know-it-all sometimes. She’s clever, but she’s not great at conveying that knowledge.”

“I don’t care,” Valerie growled, then took an audible breath. When she continued, her voice was calmer. “Look, I just… I know you and Specter aren’t actively causing trouble in the city, so you’re not, like, high on my shitlist or anything. But that bounty went out and… it seemed too good to be true, but I just… wanted it to be real.” She shrugged. “My family and I… we really could’ve used that money.”

“It’s fine, Red. I get it.” Danny caught himself halfway through lifting a comforting hand, freezing in place. Valerie probably wouldn’t be receptive to that sort of thing, not from him. “I know everyone thinks that ghosts don’t remember anything from their lives, but… I know I do. And I… I remember what being poor can do to someone. How much it sucks, and what kind of weird shit people might pull just for some money.”

Valerie cocked her head slightly, her mask crunching together slightly. “Like what?”

“What, is this a cross-examination now?” He rolled his eyes, huffed for dramatic effect. “I might have sold stuff from my parents’ shed to make some money, hoping that they had hoarded enough stuff that they wouldn’t notice.”

“That’s nowhere near what I just did,” Valerie pointed out, crossing her arms.

“Well, no, but it’s not like I had ghost hunting equipment or potentially dangerous ghosts to chase down.” Danny shrugged, loosely. “Seriously, it’s fine. Not the first time I’ve been caught, and you, at least, had a pretty valid reason to catch me. If I had to get captured for this bounty stuff, I’m glad that it was you and not one of those other hunters.”

She made a face. Or, well. He thought she did. “Are those… seriously the best money could buy? Because, uh, yikes. I had no idea ghost hunting, as a profession, looked like that.”

“Yeah, you made a poor career choice.” He grinned at her. “But, hey, you’ve got plenty of time left to change stuff around. Or to better the name of ghost hunting. Either or, really. Up to you.”

“You sound like a motivational speaker.” Valerie scoffed. “Seriously, I thought you were bad during battles, but this? This is worse.”

“Aw, Red, I didn’t know you cared.” He pressed a hand against his chest, blinking lovingly. It was just… too easy to fall back into his easy banter with Val. He knew he shouldn’t, but, well. Banter was better than fighting, yeah? “But, for real, I get it. Specter and I, we try our best, but we’re not perfect. We can’t catch every ghost the moment they look like they’re up to anything malicious, unfortunately. I’m sorry it happened to you.”

“I don’t think you are,” she said, shaking her head, but Danny recognized that tone. It was her “I’m starting to acknowledge that you’re actually kind of human-like but I refuse to accept it” tone.

And, yes, Valerie had a tone like that. It was rare, but the few times he’d heard it had been memorable enough to stick.

“Well, that’s up to you.” He reached out a hand towards the bars, but they didn’t shock him. Ah, yeah, just like last time. Not phase-proof. “You want me to apologize by phasing you out of this?”

“You can do that?” She jerked her head back towards him. “I thought— It looked like ectoplasmic energy, I figured it would zap you if you tried.”

He wrapped a hand around the bar, tugging it meaningfully. “Doesn’t look like it. Besides, isn’t that why you let me out of the Thermos again? Or did you just want to vent about my sister so badly that even I would do?”

“Oh, shut up,” she grunted. “Just let me out and we’ll ignore this ever happened.”

“Sure thing, Red. The closer you are to the bars, the shorter I’ll have to make you intangible, so…” He gestured vaguely. “I’m assuming you want that time to be as short as possible, anyway.”

She inched closer, keeping her head turning towards him the whole time. “Why do you keep calling me that, anyway?”

“What, Red?” He shrugged. “Specter and I needed a name to refer to you, and, well. You’re a ghost hunter, dressed almost entirely in red. So, the Red Huntress.”

Valerie stopped next to the bars—and him—and stared him down. “I would comment on your naming skills, but I feel like that’s a lost cause, since you’re two ghosts called Specter and Phantom.”

“Believe me, I’ve heard it before.” He offered her a hand. “The worst part is honestly that we didn’t even coordinate that. We didn’t know the other had become a ghost until we ran into each other.”

“So shitty names are a family trait?” Valerie asked as she took his hand. Hers was warm even through her gloves.

Danny paused, thinking of literally every single one of his parents’ inventions. He shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.”

“I… I really don’t know how to feel about that, Phantom.”

He laughed, and used the moment of distraction to turn the both of them intangible. He stepped backwards through the bars, tugging Valerie along with him. Released both the intangibility and her as soon as they were through.

“That’s fair,” he ended up saying with another shrug. “My family was… a lot.”

“At least Specter still is,” Valerie said. Then she froze, seemingly startled by the fact that she’d just said something comforting to a ghost.

“That, she is,” he agreed with a nod. “Speaking of, I should go check in with her. Tell her you didn’t re-kill me or anything. Will you be alright from here on out?”

Valerie scoffed. “I don’t need your help. Yes, Phantom, I’ll be fine. Go worry over your sister.”

“I will. Stay safe, Red.”

He pushed off before she could answer, darting upwards too fast to hear anything she might shout afterwards. After that, however, he lowered his speed for the flight back home. Or, well. Back to FentonWorks. His dad could deal with Vlad fine on his own, and Jazz was around in this universe, too.

Still, even a casual speed brought him to FentonWorks quickly, and he landed on the same rooftop that he’d started the patrol on. He only had to wait for a few moments before Jazz appeared next to him.

Danny opened his mouth to greet her, but suddenly a body was pressed against him, chilly arms wrapping around him.

“Hey, Jazz,” he said, voice soft, as he wrapped his own arms around her. “It’s fine, I’m alright.”

“I was worried,” she admitted quietly. “I… I knew you’d be okay, but I couldn’t stop worrying.”

“I’m sorry.” He ran his hand through her hair, as strange and gravity-defying as his own. “I didn’t realize you’d be so worried, or I would’ve stopped talking to Val sooner. I promise, I’m fine.”

She huffed a breath in his neck, then pulled away a little. “You were talking to Valerie?”

Hook, line, and sinker. “Yeah. Warming her up a little to, well. Ghosts in general, I think, but mostly to us. How’d things go here?”

“They went fine. I didn’t have to do anything.” She pulled away entirely, but still didn’t look quite settled. “Dad beat up Plasmius with some of the inventions, and Mom and Danny just kind of shouted encouragements at him. I didn’t even have to do anything.”

“Good, good. That’s pretty much what happened in my universe too.” He nodded, rolling his spine and grinning at Jazz’ disgusted face. “Well, not the encouraging part, but Dad defeated Vlad on his own. In my universe, the vultures had grabbed Mom and, uh, Jazz, and trapped them in the weapon vault.”

Jazz blinked at him for a moment. “We have a weapons vault?”

“Yeah? It’s got a circular door and a keypad?” He shrugged. “It’s also not phaseproof, so it’s kind of worthless against ghosts. Well, it isn’t phaseproof now. They improved it when too many weapons disappeared but, well. Not much point to it if they kept telling me the password.”

“That’s ridiculous. How did I not know that it existed? You should show me where it is, later, just in case.”

“Sure thing.” He yawned. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. Shouldn’t you head to bed soon?”

She heaved a deep sigh. “Yeah, I… Wait a minute. You talked with Valerie! Danny!” She jumped forward, suddenly, crowding him. “You need to tell me what you two talked about!”

“Woah, chill, Jazz.” He gently pushed her away again. “Now?”

“Yeah, now!” she snapped at him. “You tried to change the topic so I would forget! I need to know what you two talked about so I know how to approach her tomorrow!”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” He shook his head. “Alright, so, it started like this…”

[bigskydreaming]

So I’ve been going through all my old Scrivener files and rounding up all the various fics and updates I’m planning on queuing up to post during the month/however-the-fuck-long I’m bedridden after surgery in a couple weeks. Which includes Teen Wolf as well as Batfics, FYI. 

Anyway, came across this old WIP that I never ended up posting because I ultimately thought it felt too similar to both Where Wild Things Are and Lightning Crashes, just in different ways....not enough that any of them were derivative of each other, but enough that I wasn’t super inspired to continue writing it because the vibe I was going for with it, I was already getting from writing those other two fics.

But I still liked it and think there was some good stuff there, so what the hell. Here’s an opening from a never-planning-on-finishing-it Scallison AU, where things diverged from canon right after the Hale fire six years pre-pilot, and there was a different-from-canon McCall pack at war/trying to survive Peter’s pack in its attempts to stamp theirs out. 

The Scallison part starts out in the vein of the ABC show Revenge, where Scott’s initially just trying to keep an eye on the hunters in town/figure out where the Argents land in all of this, but then, y’know. The feelings happen.

Anyway, it was chock full of my favorite TW writing tropes - runaway/long lost Scott, pack politics, side characters turned main characters, scheming, double-dealing, Scott Is A Goddamn Genius and No I Do Not Accept Constructive Criticism On This Matter For It Is Wrong....you know, my usuals.

I did have a pretty extensive outline/summary for the rest of the fic and my plans for it, that I can post if there’s any interest in reading that and seeing where this was going. *Shrugs* Just let me know.

WHAT THE FIRES LEFT BEHIND

Scott McCall came home on a Tuesday.

For Allison, that didn’t mean much at first.  Her only context for the mass text was the bemused quirking of Lydia’s lips and a rather underwhelming ‘Huh.’ Then a shrug and a flick of her hair, and her best friend by default returned to ruffling through the Macy’s clearance rack with a vengeance.

“Awful. Grotesque. Needs to be set ablaze, immediately - ”

Allison nodded to herself and bore continued witness to Lydia’s evisceration of every hack designer of every fashion atrocity present, though sadly, the novelty of that had long since worn off. It was 7 pm on a school night. They’d been scouring the mall for something to meet Lydia’s approval for three hours already, and Allison did have trigonometry homework she could be torturing herself with instead, so….

Tough call. Hard choices had to be made. Allison steeled herself for battle and called Lydia Martin on her bullshit.

“Why are we here again? You hate Macy’s, and you absolutely despise clearance items.”

“I know that, and you know that.” Lydia emerged from a forest of polyester blouses wearing a look of disdain that had a ph level that would put any acid in the school’s chem lab to shame. “But I’m trying to see if I can find something here to start a trend with anyway.  Call it…a social experiment.”

“Hmm.” Allison nodded again thoughtfully. Briefly, she considered mercy. But she had just wasted three hours of her life. And mercy wasn’t really the Argent family way. 

She pulled the trigger. “You sure its not called Daddy cut your spending limit?”

Her melodrama-prone friend threw her hands up as if to express the whole world had gone mad and nothing made any sense. “It’s like he’s not even trying to buy my affection anymore!”

Allison coughed into her hand to smother a giggle. Being able to so easily rile up her friend when all others’ attempts dashed themselves harmlessly upon Her Majesty’s porcelain mask of perfection? Still her favorite sport next to archery. But certain social norms must be respected. One didn’t openly mock a friend in such obvious distress. She quickly changed the subject. For Lydia’s sake, really.

“So who’s Scott McCall?”

Lydia paused midway through working herself up to a truly tickets and popcorn-worthy rant, thrown by the sudden segue. “What?”

Allison waved her phone, flashing the mass text Danny had sent out to pretty much everyone in the Beacon County zip code.

“Scott McCall’s back. He just walked into the Sheriff’s Station. Stiles saw him himself,” she read out loud. “Who’s Scott McCall?”

“Oh. That.” Lydia tore her horrified gaze away from a leopard print mini-skirt and shrugged. “He’s this guy from our class who disappeared seven years ago. You know that Dunbar kid’s stepmom, Melissa? It’s her son.”

“Wait, seriously? And he’s our age? How have I never heard about this before?”

“I don’t know, Allison,” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Maybe because normal people don’t talk about things that depress them? It was a long time ago anyway.”

“I can tell it had a real effect on you,” Allison said, with just a touch of acid herself.

“I’m in the midst of a personal financial crisis currently. I’ll care when its over. Besides, its not like anyone has any details yet. Pointless gossip is for the peasants.”

“So what happened anyway?” Allison asked. Lydia shot her a look and she smiled innocently. “What? I’m comfortable with my peasant status. And I’ve lived here almost two years now and never heard a word about this. How can I not be curious?”

“Well this was an utter waste of time,” Lydia said under her breath as she gingerly replaced a sequin-studded monstrosity back on the rack, seemingly preoccupied once more. Or possibly just flat-out ignoring her. 

The menace of the malls then raised her eyes to the ceiling as if despairing at the world at large, heaved a sigh that was practically a soliloquy unto itself, and ran her fingers through her hair in some kind of ritual of self-composure. 

Once she’d observed the proper formalities for conceding her quest was officially a failure - at least, Allison was pretty sure that’s what she was doing, though she’d rather not commit to that, given that some of the intricacies of her friend’s habits still eluded her grasp - Lydia finally slung her purse over her shoulder and set off towards the exit with an imperious wave of her head. 

It was only when her brisk walk stalled out while waiting for the garage elevator that Her Highness deigned to address the lowly commoner’s curiosity. 

Allison just sighed internally. She’d long since made her peace with her friend’s little power games. They were entertaining as often as they were exasperating, so it was sort of a pick your battles type situation, and Allison preferred to err on the side of not waking the beast beneath Lydia’s deceptively dainty exterior.

“You know about the Hale fire, right?” Lydia asked.

Allison nodded. It wasn’t an everyday topic of conversation by any means, but it had come up at least once or twice since her family moved to Beacon Hills two years prior. Talk of the tragedy had even made an appearance in her own home, in a couple of muffled shouting matches between her parents that she’d only caught bits and pieces of.

“Yeah, my Aunt Kate actually lived around here back then. That was the fire that killed that whole family, right?”

“Right. So it was pretty much right around that same time. Scott went missing just a few days after. A lot of people even wondered if there might have been a connection, there were rumors the fire was arson, I don’t know. It was a whole thing, and we were only ten at the time, you know? Anyway, Scott’s dad was this hotshot FBI agent. There were search parties for like two months, but they never found a body or anything. Most people eventually figured it probably had something to do with one of his dad’s cases.”

“And now he’s back,” Allison prodded when Lydia lapsed into silence. The smaller girl just chewed on her lower lip, staring at the wall of the garage almost pensively.

“And now he’s back,” she echoed with a distracted nod of her head.

“That’s....interesting,” Allison offered tentatively. She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the mood that had fallen over her friend, like a spell had settled upon her the moment she’d actually stopped and reflected on her memories of the events in question. 

It seemed somewhat conspicuous to her that Lydia made no mention of who Scott was beyond just the victim of some strange small-town mystery, and so she was uncertain just how cautiously she needed to tread here. Had they been childhood friends? Mere acquaintances? Something else, likely as baffling and unexpected as most things about Lydia Martin tended to be?

But the born and raised Beacon Hills native just shrugged one shoulder listlessly and twirled a strand of strawberry-blond hair around a finger.

“It’s something,” she said at last. The elevator arrived at their level with an almost cheerful-sounding ding that was at odds with the somber mood they stood draped in. Lydia shook herself, a full body kind of motion not unlike a dog drying itself off.

“Are you coming?” She tossed over her shoulder at Allison, sounding almost exasperated, as though she hadn’t been the one just standing there staring at the wall for a good ten seconds after the elevator doors had slid open.

Allison sighed and shook her head, but she held back any retort and instead simply followed her friend down into the lower levels of the garage. Now was not the time to pursue...whatever that whole thing had been, just now. 

Lydia Martin had just unwillingly displayed an emotional reaction in front of another person. It was too dangerous to prod for further weak spots in her armor without letting at least a day or two pass first.

The self-styled Queen of Beacon Hills had relieved commoners of their heads for lesser offenses than that.

[cherrysunflowers]

nsfw for kiss the canvas babes 👀👀

ok i am SO READY FOR THIS 

kiss the canvas babies

• who kissed who first?  

n&m: okay sO I feel like nicky PLANNED on kissing mo first??? but every time he tried during their first date, something would come up and the mood would just DIE and he'd get so frustrated abt it??? but lbr mo would’ve honestly just been like ‘fUCK IT’ and kissed him im cackling

j&m: i think jesse did?? bc it was during the power outage when margo was over rmr, and they were surrounded by candles and :’(( 

• who made the first move?

n&m: why,,, do i get the feeling mo did,,,, bc lets face it even tho nicky wants to fuCK he would most definitely wait until mo gives him a sign that she's down?? like yea they'd joke abt fucking and stuff like that, but he would most definitely not do anything crazy until she shows signs that she wants it, and even then, he would’ve asked for consent bc he is a Good Boy

j&m: okay so since jess is also a Good Boy, I feel like he would’ve also waited for margo to make the first move. and I feel like after lots of reassurance and affirmations, she would've finally gotten enough confidence to make the first move?? it wouldve definitely been a little thing tho, like maybe setting a hand on his chest, or nibbling his bottom lip or smth as they made out. just small things.

• what’s the relationship like?

n&m: ridiculously adventurous. spontaneous. not much is planned between the two of them. I feel like they wouldn't even plan dates, nick would just pick mo up at her apartment, and they just see where it goes. but they can also be rlly lazy and domestic?? like, when mo’s slammed with work, and nick is busy at the warehouse, they have date night at home and do takeout and a movie while wearing pyjamas y’know??

j&m: soft, really domestic and sweet. since jess’ got danny, it kind of already feels like they're married, really. since margo takes care of danny like she's his mother, and they already kind of have the whole family dynamic. so I feel the relationship consists of small acts of affection, like knowing smiles, and gentle touches, stuff like that. and since they aren't able to go out as much, their date nights mostly consist of home cooked meals, watching netflix and falling asleep on the couch at 11pm.

• who’s the most possessive?

n&m: nicky. definitely. he knows that girls like mo never ever give guys like him a chance. he doesn’t fuck around when it comes to guys flirting with her or trying to make moves. she’s the most special thing he’s ever had in his life, and hes absolutely terrified of her leaving him, even if it doesn't show.

j&m: I feel like its jess. since he knows everything about margo’s past, he’s dead set on protecting her. and that shows whenever he sees someone trying to talk to her in a way he knows isn’t all that innocent, or something like that. and all he'd even have to do is shoot them a look and thats it. 

• what is their favourite way to kiss?

n&m: ok lbr when they kiss, they fucking mAKE OUT. like fuckin’ all tongue or nothing, nicky does Not Fuck Around okay he thinks pecking is for pussies

j&m: softly. I feel like they wouldn't feel the need for all that passion and craze. margo would love leaving little kisses all over jess, whether its his shoulder, or back, or cheek, or lips. anywhere she can reach to show him her affection.

• who tops during sex?

n&m: I wanna say it’s pretty even? like before mo, he'd definitely be used to topping but when he and mo are together, I feel like both of them are good with whatever, and its pretty even on that front. just whoever wants to top goes for it lMAO

j&m: we’ve def talked about this and I think your answer to that was that jess always tops bc hes a dominant lil shIT !! but I feel like every RARE moment, margo would playfully roll them over and try to top, bc she just wants to tease him and :’)

• thoughts on sex toys?

n&m: nick would joke about using ropes n handcuffs n shit but I feel like mo would b the one to be like ‘listen buddy I hope ur fuckin serious and if not imma be pisSED’ 

j&m: the thought of sex toys would fLUSTER THE H E L L OUTTA MARGO??? like even though she ain’t a virgin, she's still !! such a lil prude !! and whenever the conversation comes up, she’d just get all flustered and would blush up a storm and !!!!

• most sensitive areas?

n&m: for nick, I wanna say its his neck and the spot right behind his ear, or where his jaw connects to his neck???

j&m: for margo, it would most definitely be her hair. if jess tugs her hair even the slightest bit, bITCH IS ON HEFJNK but also she would most definitely have a thing for him biting her lower lip while kissing :))

• do they shower/bathe together? if so, how far does anything go?

n&m: lets be real, they've fucked in the shower and the bath, these kids are like bunnies ok I stg. but there are times where its just soft and tender, and all they wanna do is be cute and wash the other’s hair yknow??

j&m: I feel they’d def shower and bathe together, and maybe yeah they'd fuck in the shower, but I cant see them having sex in the bathtub?? like I feel like margo only ever rlly takes baths when she's stressed or sad, so whenever jess joins her, its to cheer her up yknow??? iDK LMK WHAT U THINK OF THAT

• how do they like their sex?

n&m: I honestly feel like sex for them is a reflection of who they are as people. super passionate, exciting, full of love and affection for the other person. like, nicky would do nothing but try to please mo, and I feel like that would be the same thing the other way around. 

j&m: margo is lowkey plain as fuck when it comes to sex, just bc she's so nervous about trying new things?? jess probably has to suggest that they try new stuff bc she would’ve been brainwashed by v*nce that sex isn’t fun and that its a way for the guy to take out his frustrations and ://

• how rough can sex get before its taken too far?

n&m: okay honestly, nicky would be really careful when it comes to getting rough, bc even though hes been fighting for this whole life, he still doesn't know his own strength, and he would keep himself on a tight leash when it comes to that. like, when he feels himself getting out of hand with spanking, or just plain gripping her, he would have to pull back and take a breather, bc the last thing he would EVER wanna do is hurt her. but back in his fighting days, he wouldn't have cared, nor realized how rough he was bc baby boy was always on drugs. :// thats why hes so careful with mo, I feel like.

j&m: once again, this is a doozy bc like I said before, margo is pretty nervous when it comes to sex already, so I feel like she wouldn’t be able to handle too much rough stuff before getting triggered and having a panic attack. she’d be able to handle ur average groping and light spanking and would like having her hair pulled, but anything more rough than that, and she would freak out.

• favourite sex position

n&m: when mo is on top :)

j&m: margo tryna playfully get in control n topping but then jess rolling them over to show her who's boss :)

• if they could have a threesome, who would their third choice be?

n&m: jeSsE, obviously !1! lmAO im kidding. but I honestly don't know if nicky would wanna have a threesome?? like, to him, sex would be such an intimate thing, and he wouldn't wanna share that ( or mo ) with anyone else. hes definitely had threesomes in the past during his addict days tho oop-

j&m: def don't think margo or jess would’ve ever thought of having a third person join them? like nick, margo def believes that sex is a super intimate thing between two people ( unless they're poly, homegirl is an lgbt+ ally don't get it tWISTED ), and she wouldn’t wanna share jess with anyone else.

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LET ME KNOW IF THIS WAS GOOD OR SHITTY IDK WHAT THE HELL IM DOING AAAA