#One whose not a fruitloop???

[puppetmaster13u]

Another de-aged Danny au, but he's with Dan & Ellie & Jazz as well.

Jason has like just arrived back to Gotham, caused chaos in the underbelly due to well, 8 heads in a duffle bag, and is just starting his takeover of Crime Alley. It's going good, great even! And then he busts some sort of gang or smuggling ring run by people in white suits and there's... holy shit why do these four toddlers have Lazarus eyes?!

Is that a lab?! And Lazarus waters?! Jason might be a bit mad but he's not an asshole, he's not going to just leave these kids here to the streets. He can't just take them to the Batclan either, and as much as he begrudgingly trusts Talia, he sure as fuck doesn't trust Ras. Who knows what he'd do to four... what are they, pit-kids?

Now he's juggling his whole revenge-thing, running a criminal empire, taking over Gotham's underbelly, and being a single dad. At least the goonion seems to be down for helping, seeing as he's making Crime Alley safer...? .... Fuck he needs some proper sleep

[bluerosefox]

Test Tube Babies, Spleens, and Fruitloop Father?! NOPE. No thanks.

Danny and Ellie take a small, reincarnation, vacation from their duties in the Infinite Realms (King Danny and his most trusted Knight/Princess Ellie). Don't worry, they leave the Realms in good hands (Jazz, Pandora, Frostbite, CW, etc, basically Danny's main council takes over for a few years)

They both weren't expecting to wake up in an assassin cult though.... Nor to find out they're five year old twins now... Twin, somewhat clones of the leader and this guy Red Robin their 'father' is kinda obsessed with....

Great their 'father' is an insane assassin leader fruitloop and their 'dad' is named after a fast food joint... whose barely out of his teens btw.

Danny al Ghul Danyal, cast a glance as his full blooded and twin sister this time around Helen Ellie al Ghul who rolled her eyes as they listened to their 'father' ramble on and on about their 'dad' and how they were created to be his heir (Danny mostly, though he had plans on Ellie going to be trained to be his body guard by someone named Lady Shiva soon)

Yeah, no. Ellie dealt with one evil fruitloop father who cloned her once before, she's not dealing that again or falling for the 'I created thus I love you but not really' bs. They need to leave, like yesterday.

Hopefully their 'dad' is... okay he doesn't need to be okay with it at first but hopefully comes around to it, okay with the two of them showing up on his doorstep soon.

And you know what, they're gonna bring him a gift.

His spleen. Yeah it'll be good to give that back to him.

Since you know that was how they got clones to begin with... Maybe don't leave your DNA with people that can make clones next time.

[rboooks]

The bakery is a front....right? PART 4

Dedicated to @foxy-tea. Thank you for your lovely words!

Danny didn't want to do it, but he had to admit that his mating season peak had arrived and could not work in that condition. It wasn't that Danny was like a cat in heat, wanting to engage in intercourse all the time.

No, his body craved a life partner and a child to smother in fierce paternal love. It was a bit worse if you asked him. If he just manwhore his way through the city over three months, well, they would just whisper about how easy he was.

A bit embarrassing but not uncommon for someone with Danny's good looks.

Instead, his mating season made him a would-be kidnapper.

He had to physically slam a hot pot of coffee on his hand a week ago when a customer had walked in with a baby, and Phantom had tried to leap over the counter to take the babbling bundle of joy as his own.

Not to mention how Phantom reacted to some of his youngest delivery employees. He hadn't realized he was mumbling "Mine. mine. mine. mine. mine" while approaching Manolo for his latest delivery until Peter had stepped into his path with the dirtiest glare Danny had ever seen.

The punch to his throat hadn't knocked the wind out of him- since Phantom had stopped his breathing three days prior - but it was enough to get Danny out of the daydreams of tucking Manolo into bed after a cup of tea and a bedtime story.

We could teach him to bake. We can teach him to ride a bike. We can sit through all his school performances, no matter how bad they are. We could be his dad. Phantom had cried as Manolo had thrown himself between Peter and Danny, his little arms spread wide to protect him. Let me have the child! Manolo is mine! He's mine to love, mine to protect!

Danny had never had such trouble getting Phantom to settle.

In seconds, Peter was quickly surrounded by Andres' friends and the rest of Danny's staff. He had taken a fighter position, looking around like an animal about to maul its victims while Danny wrestled with himself to get control.

He and Phantom are not two separate personalities fighting for control but one person with conflicting instincts.

One of a human's most basic instincts is self-preservation. A ghost's most basic instinct is self-fulfillment.

Danny did not want things to become a free-for-all where someone could get hurt. Phantom tried to fight them all to claim the kids under his protection.

Thankfully, everything was deescalated by Jazz's timely arrival. Danny couldn't really remember what she had done (too busy struggling to hold himself as a human and not go ghost to become the most excellent dad to ever dad). Still, if there was one gift Jazz had, it was being able to reason with spirits about their obsessions.

If she could convince beings whose entire existence depended on being stubborn about a particular subject, she could persuade humans of anything.

Peter had been allowed to leave with no injuries, and even two days paid off, while the rest had realized that the man had just acted out of PTSD due to what Jazz called "projecting trauma in safe settings."

There were a lot of people in this area that understood what PTSD episodes did to them and had not faulted Petter. Manolo even gave Peter a small crocheted fox to help him overcome the fear.

(Danny had given the small fox plushy to Manolo when the kid first arrived at his bakery, proclaiming it had a protective spell to keep fear away. He had yet to be aware the boy carried around with him.)

Jazz had then taken Danny to his apartment, where she had placed him in quarantine. She had been informed by Frost Bite during their bi-weekly mentor/protegee meetings- Jazz was studying under the Yeti in Ghost Psychology- that Danny's Peak had arrived. Danny would jack up his "I need to be a dad" and "I need to be a husband" urges to Fruitloop levels.

Danny would try to force someone into that role if he was around humans or ghosts, even if it was against their will. Ugh, he would be a Vlad 2.0 for a full two weeks!

He could not risk himself around others. So with a heavy heart, he informed his employees he would be stepping away for a two-week long vacation and had made it seem like he left on a plane to visit Jazz overseas.

His staff would take care of the bakery for him, but it saddened Danny he could not be there to help with things. He then sealed off all entries to his apartment and informed the residents of the Ghost zone he was in, "Mating Peak retreat," so no one would bother him past a few already mated servants of the Ghost King.

They would bring him supplies and requests through a no-contact portal once he ordered them through a magical catalog. It was like online shopping for ghosts.

Danny now had to wait two weeks for this to finally go away, and he could go about his ordinary daily life of being perfectly dead and alive. Until it happened again the following year.

Elli told him to be grateful it was only a yearly thing, not a monthly deal. He shuddered at the mere thought of experiencing this every month.

Done! Phantom cheers snapping Danny back to reality. In his hands are a pair of freshly crocheted booties. He hadn't even been aware he was making them.

They look great, Danny tells Phantom, turning them in his hands to smile at the giant sunflowers on each side. A button was used as the center of the flowers, and Phantom even included a few lace designs around them to look like leaf vines.

They are based on the park's flowers.

The park?

Yes, the park where you promised to take me today! Phantom goes from calmly talking to screaming, and Danny winces.

You know I can't go outside. You'll just try to steal a child from the park.

I would never forget to also steal a wife or husband!

Danny sighs, rubbing his face knowing he was telling himself that forgetting a spouse was worse than the idea of kidnapping people. He places the booties on top of an ever-growing pile. Since his quarantine has begun, Danny has made about two hundred pairs of various styles, sizes, and colors.

Danny looks around at the piles and piles of other of his crocheting projects. He's got sweaters, scarves, gloves, socks, hats, beanies, and even blazers for various genders, ages, and styles meant to help with the coldest winter. He could adequately dress his whole street and still have some left over.

All prepared for his nonexisting family.

He has been making them at the same speed he can fly, i.e., 200 mph. He's made some yarn dealers in the zone extremely wealthy. He can't help it, though. Danny has frozen every inch of his apartment too far too cold levels for an average human without proper wear.

He's been working fast because his human mind knew that the cold was terrible for his lover and children, so it wanted to keep them nice and warm. While his ghost side added layers of snow to the floor and ice to the walls, he even made decorative ice sculptures that he desperately reorganized again and again to find the perfect balance of the cold. Only his electronics were not frozen over, so even his furniture had layers of ice- some with designs to make them look fancier.

He's also cooked up a storm in preparation for feeding his family. Only to realize a spouse and kids were not coming, thus forcing him to donate his meals to the ghost delivery people. They were ever so happy to have five-course meals shoved at them just for bringing the king more yarn.

Danny throws himself face-first into the pile of snow from his couch, allowing the softness to cushion his fall. There is a terrible itch under the skin. It's begging him to leave to find someone to kiss and worship. Unwillingly, Alvin's face appears in his mind before he turns over and stares at his ceiling. He's made all the constellations into small carvings on the ice. I can't go outside. I can watch another movie or make more bagels instead.

Watching another romance movie won't bring me a mate! Phantom hisses.

I know but-

Suddenly Danny senses flair as someone crosses over his wards. Sitting up in alarm, Danny makes a break for his room as even more people join the first and break into his guest room through a window. Not that he can't take whoever they are, but if he comes face to face with them-well, Danny thinks he may keep them.

That's not something he's willing to risk.

Phantom is already throwing out some severe pheromones that would likely infatuate them to Danny, babbling about this being their chance. Four adults- spouses!- and a child- a son or daughter!- have entered their main haunt. They had to give them food and warm clothes and cuddle them until they never left!

No!

He can't force them to stay!

He had to make them stay even if it meant chaining them!

No, they would be miserable!

Phantom could make them happy forever!

The effort to stay in his human control took so much effort Danny started to aggressively twitch as he fumbled with the hidden room in the back of an old wardrobe. He's breathing heavily, trying to get his blurry vision to focus so he can open the darn thing and get in. Finally, it does, and Danny just barely closes it when a figure bursts through the door.

He watches through a small crack as the figure carefully looks over his frozen domain. It's one of the vigilantes. Red Robin.

What is he doing here?

The man walks into his room, leaving behind disruptive snow that goes up his ankles.

Thank the Ancients, his footprints do not appear in his own snow. Otherwise, a perfect trail would lead the hero straight to him. Instead, he watches with a hand over his mouth as Red Robin carefully searches his room.

Danny cuts off his need to breathe as the sound would give him away. Still, he's twitching so much that he's practically shaking as the hero carefully breaks the ice over his drawers and pulls out his clothes in quick, careful movements.

Go away. Go away. Go away. Danny thinks desperately. He should have tried calling someone. Jazz. Ellie. Even his parents or Vlad!

None of them would cause his instincts to want to force them to play house- though he would likely still try to imprison them since he would like to protect them non the less.

But they could at least do something and get the poor vigilante somewhere safe!

Never leave. Never leave. Never leave. Phantom purrs, and oh no, an intense burst of pheromones is sent through the room. Red Robin freezes; from what little Danny can see of his face, it's flushed red, and gosh, he wants to smother that man in so much love-

"Guys, I think I came in contact with the drug," Red Robin pants after pressing his hand to his ear. "I don't know how, but I am definitely feeling something. Think it's airborne, but not sure."

He doesn't finish his sentence before Redhood and Nightwing are suddenly in his room. Nightwing has a gas mask over his face while Red Hood swings a gun around the room, looking for a target.

Danny almost whines at the gentle way Nightwing helps Red Robin into a sitting position. He's looking him over with such loving protection that he- that Danny- Phantom wants him- wants a husband-!

"Shit," Red Hood hisses, body pushing back as if some strong wind had hit him. "Yeah, it's definitely in this room. Felt a bit of it, even with my built-in filters. Wing?"

"Did the room get colder?" Nightwing asks as he helps Red Robbin to his feet. The other man seems to be feeling better with his gas mask, but he must still be effect by Phantom's pheromones.

"The wardrobe." Red Robin gasps, pointing unknowingly right at Danny. "The ice around it is getting bigger. And...it's leaking."

What? Danny looks down only to see in horror a knocked-over jar of fresh ectoplasm. He hadn't even been aware he had broken the thing when he crawled here.

The jars were the ones that he gathered with Jazz and Ellie after a three-day foraging trip. All ghosts were made of Ecoplasim, but just like you couldn't stick blood into someone without being comparable, you couldn't use any random ectoplasm for other people- humans or ghosts.

It had to be some of the purest natural kind, not linked to any type of beings, like a river of ectoplasm or the frozen pillars in the farthest parts of the Far Frozen. Giving someone ectoplasm from one's body could taint them in the donator's obsession.

Yes, Danny could make more people protective of each other, but it would likely cause them to be Fruitloop-level protective. They just didn't have the filter like he did to not go mad.

That pure kind was now leaking out of his hiding place and into the white snow of his main lair.

Danny only has a second to panic before the door is wrenched open, and he falls into a stunned Red Robin.

He goes limp from the shock as Phantom purrs, settling in his mind now that he's pressed against a possible mate. Like Danny said, it's not intercourse his ghost side is after, it's close contact, and this is enough to satisfy it.

"Shit, it's Danny. He-he's not breathing, and he's ice cold. I think he's de-dead." Red Robin says in what sounds like tears.

No. My husband is sad. Danny and Phantom think, a terrible pulse of pain bursting across his chest. He can't get his body to move to offer comfort, though. It's been a whole week since he last saw someone in person, and this is so nice. Why did he ever fight this instinct? It felt so good to give in.

He could stay in Red Robin's arms forever.

Red Robin was never going to see the clear sky again. He was never leaving this apartment.

"I found something," Red Hood's voice is behind him. "It looks like it is Lazarus' water, but it's clearer. I think this is our drug. Danny must have ODed."

"No! He can't- we have to do something!" Red Robin cries, and Danny slumps further against him like a broken doll. He's not blinking. Blinking is for humans. Danny isn't a human.

His unfocused eyes stare at wherever Red Robin has him positioned to look.

"There is nothing we can do, Red Robin," A new voice says though not unkindly. Phantom doesn't turn his head but can see Batman walk up behind Red Robin, wearing his gas mask. He places his hand on the trembling vigilante. "You need to put him down."

"No!" Phantom purs as the arms around his shoulders bring them closer to his husband's body.

"It's too late for him, Drake. We can only honor his death."

That....that was a voice of a child. A child is in his main haunt.

Phantom wails in joy.

He gets out of his husband's arms, leaping over Batman, and his arms are around a boy in red, green, and yellow. Phantom smothers his face against the hood covering the boy's head, and short sobs rank his body. "My baby! You're my baby!"

"Unhand me!" His little grunts slamming a knife into Phantom's side, but that doesn't matter because Phantom has his son and his husband in his nest.

A bullet harmlessly passes through his forehead after a loud bang, creating a hole in Phantom's wall. He'll take care of that after he smothers his baby in cuddles.

Nightwing swings a baton at Phantom, but that, too, passes through his body without harm.

"Shit! Danny put him down!"

Huh, was that Sam?

"Danny, I mean it. Drop him!"

Oh, Tucker too!

"Daniel Fenton, you let that boy go right now!" Jazz sounded upset. Maybe she should hold his baby. "Are you listening to me?"

"Danny is not here right now." He hears his body say.

"Ohhhhh. That's not good. Okay, Danny time for a nap!" Ellie flies into his face, her hand glowing green and he has a moment to gasp at the betrayal before she blasts him.

He drops, knowing no more.

(Part 1), (Part 2), (Part 3), (Part 5)

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 29 - "That's all? Easy."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

A/N: I sometimes like to headcannon that Danny is actually a rich kid that doesn't live the rich kid style cause his parents use their money for their research and like to live a simple life. He goes to galas Vlad or Sam drag him to as his parents representative.

Damian had been prepared for another boring Gala to go through. His elder siblings as well as Pennyworth had made sure to take away any sharp blade he had on him beforehand. With the blades gone Damian refused to socialize with high society. What was the point in enduring the torture of pinched cheeks and repeating comments with double meanings and hidden insults as well as the 'boot' lickers, as one of his brothers liked to put it, when he wasn't allowed to return the favor these people were giving him with a quick blade swipe.

So Damian was hanging back, retreating to the corners and shadows of the room where people aside from his family wouldn't notice him. But being there gave him the chance to notice something else. At first Damian didn't think much of it but with the minutes passing he noticed it more and more.

Small colorful page markers.

He started tracking them. Eyes going from person to person as he scanned them for these markers. Always in spots and placements oneself wouldn't notice them on their own as well as by others around them. Sometimes they were even Color matched with the person's outfit.

Damian scanned the hall and his eyes landed on a teenager, younger than Drake but older than him. The other boy was gliding through the people seemingly effortlessly and unnoticed towards the snack table. Once there the teen appeared to be interested in what sort of food the gala was offering.

His eyes narrowed as he eyed the people the teen had passed.

A blue marker by the belt loop of an older gentleman.

Red marker on the purse of the lady dressed in purple.

Green marker on another man's vest.

He was sure these markers weren't on them before. Interesting, he missed before moving towards the teenager by the snack table. The boy by now had piled up one of the small plates high with some of the overhead foods and Damian first felt reminded of everting Todd went to a gala and immediately would go for the foods.

"You are quite sneaky." He spoke up after waiting somewhat politely for the other to acknowledge his presence. Which never happened even after five minutes and Damian having clearly seen the other looking at him from his corner of the eye.

"Oh, what do you mean?" The teen then said after swallowing a bite of food.

"I presume the page markers are what you're doing?"

"Damit, not even an hour in and I am already busted." The teenager muttered and Damian arched an eyebrow. "Look, I don't know whose rich kid you are but will stop as long as you don't tell the fruitloop. I am here to represent my parents and if this fruitloop hears I am playing the game Sam invented for these galas he will-"

"I believe you misunderstood my intention." Damian smirked as he held out a hand. "My family found it adequate to take my blades. So I want in on this 'game' you are playing."

The teenager blinked at Damian before a grin spread across his face. He hurriedly placed his plate on the table before rummaging around in one of his pockets."Well that is a nice change! Your not a stuck up like the other kids here."

A block of green, red and blue page markers were then placed in Damians held out hand. "I am Danny Fenton by the way, representative of Fentonworks."

"Damian Wayne." He answered out of reflex as he inspected the page markers given to him, uncaring if the teen would now start fawning over his last name like he had seen others do before.

"Cool. So want to make it more interesting? This is more fun in a two player setting then one player." Damian inclined his head, not letting the surprise of the other teens lack of reaction towards his name show. Well it looked like Daniel, because what else got the name Danny stand for, would be nice company for this gala.

"Let's make specific targets for each other, maybe even placements. Sam always dares me to do specific things. If one of us gets caught is an automatic loss, the one with the highest successful placements at the end of this gala is the winner."

He smirked. Daniel had no chance, a game like this was easy for him. This was going to be an easy win. His league training as well as the training his father had made him go through was going to give him a clear advantage. He was playing with the thought of giving Daniel a chance by not using certain skills but after the first three targets, Damian decided that that would be unnecessary.

The gala went by faster, the two pointing out specific people or placements of the marketers to each other. They both had surprisingly their fair share of failures as well as success. In the end they both had a draw and were on their last page marker to place.

"This is going to be the final decision between, win, loss or draw." Daniel hyped up the game and Damian shook his head lightly at the others foolishness that reminded him of Jon.

"Well then, it would be only right to select the most difficult targets for each other."

"Well if that's the case, see the guy over there, the one with gray hair and a ponytail? That's the fruitloop. Place your last marker right to the left on his lower back, where his jacket covers over his belt."

Damian arched an eyebrow but the teen only grinned. He smirked if the other wanted to make it apparently difficult then Damian could provide him with a real challenge. "For you target, my father is currently talking to this 'fruitloop' as you call him. Place the marker on his back on his left shoulder blade."

Daniel would not be able to so, his father was vigilant and despite his act, very aware of his surroundings. His newly made gala acquaintance would fail and Damian would be the winner of this game.

"That's all? Easy."

The two boy's started to move towards the two adults. They shared one last glance before splitting up slightly in two different directions to approach their targets. Damian was close, his steps silent as he neared his target the 'fruitloop'. The page marker was tagged to the tip of one of his fingers. Once he was close enough he would be able to place it without even having to get too close.

His father noticed him and Damian gave him a polite smile as he moved like he was going to pass the man in his way towards his father. He did however not anticipate for his target to place his hand on the hip obscuring his target placement. Damian's hand instantly hid his hand behind his back transferring the page tag to his other hand and unconsciously clicked his tongue. He would have to try again.

"Fruitloop! Who are you talking to?!" He heard Daniel shout out of nowhere suddenly, his head wiping around to see the other clapping his hand on his fathers shoulder. The shoulder where he had told the other to place the marker. Damian ground his teeth. He was not going to accept a loss here.

"Daniel! Where are your manners?! This is Bruce Wayne. CEO of Wayne Enterprise. I am so sorry Mr.Wayne."

"No worries Mr.Masters. He is just like how my sons were at his age. It is good for teens to be so full of energy."

Damian narrowed his eyes as the other teen gave him a peace sign and mouthed the words 'I won.' As the adults returned to their discussion Damian glared at Daniel, his last page tag crumpled in his hand, he switched to stand on his fathers other side so that he was next to the teen now.

"I demand a rematch." He hissed agitated, to which Daniel only grinned wider. "Sure. The next time we see each other at a gala again. I will have two packs ready for our rematch."

Later that night when Damian had returned home from the Gala, he took off his jacket only to notice something green peaking through the folds of it. As he lifted it to inspect where the Color on it game from his eyes narrowed and his grip on the jacket tightened. On his jacked he found several green page markers tagged on it one of them even had a little ghost drawn on it. "Well played Fenton, well played."

[notoverjoyed]

Blame the Cat

I'm not late, I swear. Anyway here's the last of my Phic Phight fics, for the honorable @five-rivers

Prompt: For centuries, the cult has anticipated the glorious rise and return of Lord Phantom. That time is at hand. All they need to bring him fully into the mortal world is the perfect sacrifice: Danny Fenton.

Summary: A story in which Danny really needs to stop getting in trouble on purpose.

Ivan Petrovitch wouldn’t normally field calls from mayors of small American towns, even those as wealthy as Vlad Masters. After all, an individual like that is unlikely to have a legitimate interest in his own illegitimate business. Facilitating the sale of endangered fish is a rather niche profession. None the less, he did a cursory internet search of the man. Nothing caught his eye until he saw an image of the man.

It wasn’t Vlad himself that caught his eye, however. The photo depicted the Mayor, a man in a suit with long grey hair in a low ponytail, standing in front of a large building. Ivan wasn’t looking at the mayor, his eye was instead drawn to the boy whose shoulders Vlad had his arm around in a fatherly fashion. The boy looked uncomfortable, and familiar.

He had to check to be sure, but his soul was certain; This boy was the key.

You see, selling endangered fish was just Ivan’s profession. It was how he made a living, not his calling. It was his more esoteric interests that gained that honor. Ivan was a member of an international group of individuals dedicated to the study an veneration of a figure most thought mythical, if they knew he existed at all. And this boy looked almost exactly like him. A change in hair and eye color, and the boy would be identical.

In the past decades, this group had toyed with the idea of summoning this being, a god really, to the mortal plane. This would serve the purpose of bringing the being closer to his disciples so that they may worship him more closely, and make requests of him more directly. He was told to have incredible powers, and many sought to be rewarded for their faith.

With that goal in mind, many of the groups members began to develop various strategies to summon their god. The ritual and material needed in each plan varied wildly, but most agreed that one thing was essential. A sacrifice.

Ivan read the caption to the photo. ‘Mayor Vlad Masters (left) accompanied by his godson Daniel Fenton (right) celebrating the renovation of Amity Park’s historic City Hall building on Wednesday.’

“Daniel Fenton,” Ivan murmured. Yes, he’d have to send a message to the group. They would see if there were any members in this ‘Amity Park’ that could investigate further. In the meantime, perhaps he should give Mr. Master’s a call. Far greater things than money could come of working with him.

. . .

Okay, so Danny probably shouldn’t be letting this guy lead him away from the main crowd at Vlad’s party to. He also shouldn’t have accepted the drink of sparking juice the guy handed him. He was pretty sure that he was all but immune to most poisons at this point, but it was still bad practice.

And he definitely shouldn’t have played along with this guy’s attempt to get him out of the ballroom by acting woozy and disoriented. Sue him, he wanted to see where this was going.

“It looks like the poor boy must have gotten the sparkling wine rather than the juice, it’s a bit strong isn’t it,” he heard the man say as he led him Danny toward one of the doors near the kitchen. He pulled out a key and unlocked it before dragging Danny through.

If this Ivan dude was interested in him in that way, then Danny could easily kick they guys ass, get him arrested, and ruin Vlad’s party in the process. If he interested in Danny in some other way, then Danny would still take the option to get away from the fruitloop’s flirting with his mom.

On the other side of the was a short hallway with only two doors: an all gender restroom, and an elevator. Ivan tugged a staggering Danny toward the elevator.

‘Door number two it is,’ He thought to himself, almost sad about losing the opportunity to make Vlad look bad.

Once he got Danny in the elevator and leaning against one wall, Ivan pressed the button marked B. The doors closed, and the elevator went down.

. . .

“Danny?” Tucker said again. “Danny! Sam, where’s Danny.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go to the restroom,” he heard Sam say through the Fenton phones. She must be extricating herself from her parent’s friends. He waited a few minutes to give her time to get away, then Sam responded.”

“Last I saw he was talking to Vlad and Vlad’s shady business partner.”

“Is he still with Vlad?”

“Vlad’s hitting on Mrs. Fenton again. Alone though. Danny and the other guy are . . .” She paused, and he guessed she was looking around the ballroom. “Nowhere,” she finally said.

Tucker took a moment to activate the tracker function he’d added to the Fenton phones. Sam’s had her firmly in the North corner of the ballroom, while Danny’s had him outside it entirely.

“Not nowhere, actually. Tracker has him in what I think is a staff passage. Can you take a look.”

“And miss this wonderful party?” She said sarcastically. “Yeah, give me a couple minutes.”

She made her way across the ballroom at Tucker’s direction and found the staff exit he was talking about. The door was unlocked, so she just walked through.

“Is Danny in the bathroom?” she said, mostly to herself. There were nicer bathrooms in the main hallway, so unless he needed to transform there’d be no reason for him to go this out of the way.

“You can check, but I don’t think so. Danny’s tracker went offline. What else is over there?”

“An elevator,” she said, then realized what that meant. “So he’s underground?”

“That would explain the Fenton phones cutting out,” he said. Despite being made to withstand unholy amounts of radiation, a few feet of concrete could block the Fenton phones’ signal entirely.

Tucker was about to suggest that she follow him down, when Sam spoke.

“Where are the stairs?” she asked.

“Why not just follow him down?”

“Because he was probably taken down by that Ivan guy. Who knows what this elevator opens up to? I need a back way.”

“Point. There should be a staircase near the front entrance. That should lead to the parking garage in the basement.”

“This place has a parking garage?” Sam asked, and Tucker could hear the noise of the party resume as she walked through the ballroom.

“I know, right?”

. . .

He could hardly contain his excitement. Weeks of planning had let to this moment. First, convincing the other higher ups of his theory, then sucking up to that insipid mayor, and finally getting local members in place to perform the ritual. And now here Ivan was, sacrifice in tow, ready to usher the being he has so long venerated into the mortal world. And perhaps, gain his favor.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. What was normally an inky expanse of darkness was lit by dozens of candles. They might normally have lit the underground parking garage with bright LEDs, but the designers of this particular ritual insisted on keeping things traditional.

“Here he is, the man of the hour!” a voice said excitedly. It was one of the locals. Apparently this town had the fasted growing group membership in North America. In the world really.

“I’m Nolan,” the local man said as he began to usher Ivan and the boy further into the garage.

“A pleasure.” Ivan said.

Nolan gestured toward a large circle drawn on the ground with a smaller circle inside of it. Intricate symbols were drawn between the two circles. Several other people meandered about, setting up candles, talking in hushed tones, or just gawking at Ivan and the boy.

“Just put him right here.” Nolan said, indicating the inner circle. Ivan set the boy, now fully unconscious, carefully on the concrete floor.

“Oh lord he is perfect,” Nolan said. Before Ivan could respond, he continued.

“When Phantom first came to our town I knew we had been blessed by our god to see his form in this world. But he always disappeared before we could speak with him.”

Ivan stood stoically, but scoffed inwardly. He’d heard about this heretic offshoot of the group claiming to see their god in the mortal world. They would have been barred from the international group if they weren’t the single largest source of new members.

“And to think, someone from outside the country would discover what we had overlooked this whole time. The perfect sacrifice for our god. A mortal, human, host.”

For a moment, Ivan thought he heard a muffled snort coming from the boy, but when he looked down at him the boy was a still as ever. He dismissed the thought, then walked over to one of the supporting pillars of the garage and leaned against it. Just a little while longer until his god arrived, and Ivan planned to become his most favored disciple.

. . .

Sam’s phone lit the way as she took the stairs in twos and threes going down to the basement. It was hard with the shoes her mother had made her wear for this party, but she couldn’t waste the breath to curse. It had been mere minutes since Danny’s tracker went offline, but she was almost down to the basement.

‘There,’ she thought, and stumbled to a stop in front of the door. Panting a little, she checked in one last time.

“Tucker, can you hear me?”

His response came laced with static, but was still understandable.

“Yeah, but not for long. You got what you need.”

Sam pulled a Fenton wrist-ray from the pocket of her dress.

“Always,” she said, and she opened the door.

She turned off her phone’s flashlight and lit her path by the light of the screen. It was harder to see, but less noticeable as she walked into the basement. It looks like Tucker was right. The floor, ceiling, and supporting pillars were all the same gray concrete you’d find in a parking garage. You could even see the lines marking out parking spots, faint as they were through the dust.

There were footprints in the dust, two pairs. Sam sucked in a breath then slowly followed the footsteps, keeping an ear out for anything suspicious. Soon she started to hear the faint noise of people moving around and talking, and see two figures silhouetted against a faint light.

She drew up close to the pair and was about to do something violent when she heard a voice gasp out.

“Danny!”

“Jazz?” Sam hissed out. What was she doing here?

. . .

It was all Danny could do not to bust out laughing. This group didn’t seem to really know what they wanted. They wanted to sacrifice him, to summon himself. Or to have him possess himself, it was hard to tell.

He kinda wanted to see what else they wanted, but he didn’t like the look of those symbols. Just because they didn’t seem to know what they were doing doesn’t mean they wouldn’t do something. He was just about to make himself invisible the moment everyone looked away and hang out to see everyone panic, when he heard a familiar voice. Two voices, actually.

‘Jazz? And Sam? What are they doing here?’ He opened his eyes just enough to see.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one that had heard them. Vlad’s creepy business partner shouted, “Who’s there,” and someone make a high pitched squeak. A flashlight shined at the noise and illuminated three figures.

He could see Sam, Jazz, and Jazz’s friend Spike. Spike had his hands clasped over his mouth, making it obvious where the squeak had come from.

‘Crap,’ Danny thought,’So much for ghosting out of here.’ Spike was looking right at him.

Everyone froze for a moment. Danny held his breath, ready to intervene if necessary, secret identity be damned.

Then Jazz looked at Danny, and seemed to come to a decision. She bolted back toward the stairs, dragging the other two with her. Danny felt a little betrayed for a moment. Was she going to leave him to be sacrificed! Then he realized; she was drawing their attention and giving him an opportunity to go ghost in private.

Everyone started chasing the three teens, so Danny took his chance. He went invisible and changed into phantom, leaving the magic summoning circle. He didn’t go after everyone else though. Instead he went to the elevator he came down in and broke a few important looking wires and cables. He didn’t want anyone to think of beating the three teens by taking the fast way up.

. . .

Sam, Danny, and Jazz met on the steps of the ballroom. Spike had gone home. Apparently he managed to snap a picture of Danny lying in the summoning circle with the old-school film camera he had on him and wanted to develop it tonight. Something about how it was perfect for his project.

Jazz had just finished lecturing Danny on his stupid decision to play along with the guy about to sacrifice him, and Sam had Tucker on speakerphone ready to talk about what just happened.

“So you and Jazz barricaded the door to the stairs,” Tucker said.

“Yep,” Sam replied.

“And Danny killed the elevator?”

“Yep,” Sam said again.

“So Vlad’s creepy business partner is trapped with his creepy cult in the creepy basement of City Hall.”

“You’re three for three.”

“Well that’s convenient,” Tucker says. Danny frowns.

“Why?” he says.

“Because those FBI guys are coming to investigate him.”

As if on cue, a black sedan pulls up to the curb in front of City Hall. Three men come out and start up the steps. The first two are unfamiliar, but Sam seems to recognize them.

“Its the FBI,” she whispers. “You can tell by the shoes.”

All three of them continue up the stairs, and the third one glares a Danny before following the others. The third guy is a GIW agent working under cover at the regional FBI office. They’ve had dealings.

Besides the last guy, none of them spare the three teens a glance as they disappear into City Hall.

“Ooookay,” Jazz says as the door shut behind the men.

“I almost feel sorry for him,” Tucker says

“Who, that Ivan guy? I don’t,” Danny says.

“Did we ever learn why Vlad was working with him?” Sam asked.

“Oh yeah, remember how this guy’s deal is that rare fish?’ Tucker said.

“Yeah.”

“And remember how you told Vlad to get a cat?”

“Ugh, yeah, and he named it after my mom.” Danny made a gagging noise in the back of his throat.

“Well I checked his google history and it was all searches about how to get your picky eater of a cat to eat, then searches of this rare fish . . .,” Tucker trailed of meaningfully.

“You’re serious?” Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

“So it’s all the cat’s fault?” Danny said.

Sam scoffed. “Not the cat’s fault Vlad’s crazy” Neither Danny nor Tucker could refute that.

[inthememetime]

It is TIME

H(a)unted

Summary: Danny is surprised when he and his sister are taken to court with Vlad and their parents. Vlad is suing for custody. Ridiculous!

Or is it? As the court case continues, Danny and Jazz have to come to terms with the idea that Vlad may be their only shot at survival and escape- and that their parents are not the people they thought they were.

Who is he really? Who- and what- is his sister? Are his parents bad luck to be around- or murderers?

This story is told primarily through dialogue and epistolary storytelling as an experiment. Throughout the story, please expect body horror, illegal and nonconsensual experimentation on human beings, murder, and kidnapping. Mind the tags, please.

Chapter 1 under the cut. Tagging: @shroudthecursedone @ghost-malone @goata33 @tellmeabtspinos @murderandjam @elegantmantaray let me know if you want to be tagged for chapter 2!

Based on this convo!

"State your full name for the record, please."

"Vladimir Gregori Masters. Born Vladimir Gregori Romanov."

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God? And, uh, the Ancients?"

"I do so swear."

Vlad wasn't swearing on a bible. Somehow, that made him almost want to laugh. Instead, he was swearing on a glowing purple book with ectoplasmic green pages. It floated slightly above the bailiff's hands. It hissed, opened itself, and Vlad bit one finger, allowing a drop of blood to land on the blank page. The book hissed again. "Your oath is accepted. Failure to uphold it shall result in grave punishments upon the river Styx."

A drop of sweat rolled down the bailiff's balding head. "You can set it down now," Vlad told him.

It added to the absurdity of the situation. One week ago exactly, he and Jazz were picked up from school by police officers and two CPS representatives. One week and one day, it was as normal as his life ever got. Just one day later, everything changed.

He hadn't spoken with Vlad- not for lack of trying, but he was always watched. If he could just get the fruitloop to see this wasn't the winning strategy! He was using ghostly artifacts in front of humans- someone was going to figure out what they were, and Vlad had a lot more to lose than he did.

Everything Vlad did had a reason of some sort. Neither he nor Jazz could figure out the reason for this.

"The trial of Vladimir Masters, the State of Wisconsin, the State of Illinois, the State of Michigan, et. all, versus Madeline and Jack Fenton is now in session," the judge said, banging a heavy wooden gavel.

Danny swallowed. This wasn't some dumb ploy by the fruitloop, not if three states or more were involved. "Mr. Masters, please state your intent with this trial."

"I see it, based on evidence, that I would be a better caretaker for both Jazmine and Daniel Fenton until they reach adulthood than Maddie or Jack Fenton."

Maddie or Jack. That made Danny freeze when he wanted to jump out of his chair and yell. Well, that and the tight grip his sister held on his arm. What was his plan if he wanted mom in jail, too?

"I would also like to press charges for murder."

A low murmur started in the courtroom. The judge slammed the gavel down again. "Whose murder, Mr. Masters?"

"An unknown number of children," he began, and Danny wanted to scream, "as well as my own." And then, in front of a full courtroom and cameras, Vlad Masters became Vlad Plasmius.

-

"The state of Michigan would first like to provide evidence." A lawyer said.

"Granted. Mr. Masters, please leave the stand." The judge ordered, still watching the ghost carefully. Vlad didn't try anything. He stepped through the witness stand and transformed back into his human form halfway to his seat.

-

The evidence had been provided by a librarian at the University of Michigan, of all places. A binder had dropped behind a heavy metal bookshelf, and it was found when the university started construction on a library expansion and had to remove the shelves.

Copies were passed around.

-

March 16, 1981

First attempt at protoportal had moderate success. Able to withdraw 15 samples, 1 gram each, of ectoplasm in a jellylike state.

Leaving 5 untouched as control samples. Divided remaining 10 into sample sets.

Hypothesis: if ectoplasm is what is used for energy by beings from another dimension, it should either burn or reenergize organic material. Possibly reanimates the recently dead.

Control A: houseplant. Watered exactly 2 every week. Kept in direct sunlight. Sample A- same type of houseplant, watered in same conditions. Addition of one ectoplasm sample mixed into soil. Sample B- instead of mixed with soil, applied directly to leaves and stem. Sample C- applied both in soil and on leaves. Sample D- .1 gram added every week to soil.

Control B: lab rat. Rat is given food and water amounts listed below. Sample E- rat has ectoplasm mixed into weekly water storage. Sample F- rat has ectoplasm mixed in weekly food storage. Sample G- rat has ectoplasm mixed in bedding. Sample H- rat has ectoplasm mixed in food and bedding. Sample I- rat has ectoplasm mixed in food, water, and bedding. Rate is .2gram/week for all samples.

Sample J- dead rat, killed by mousetrap. Injected with sample of ectoplasm.

March 17, 1981

Sample A- same as control. Sample B- ectoplasm has disintegrated the leaves of the plant and caused severe stem damage. Sample C- ectoplasm has caused some damage to stem and leaves, but not killed plant. Sample D- same as control.

Sample E- rat suffered convulsions, then dissolved from throat out. Sample F- rat noticeably sluggish, no other effects. Sample G- rat has developed red areas, and possibly will become sores. Sample H- results mix of F & G. Sample I- same as E.

Sample J- rat has begun twitching. Possible nerve stimuli?

March 20, 1981

Sample A- plant has a noticeable glow. Sample B- completely disintegrated. Sample C- plant is repairing damage. Repaired areas are glowing. Sample D- same as control.

Sample E- rat completely dissolved into black protein sludge. See images below. Sample F- rat's teeth have fallen out and been replaced with sharper ones. Images below. Sample G- pores are pus-filled and oozing. Rat lethargic, no longer attempting to eat. Sample H- red spots developed into bony protrusions, rat lethargic but still attempting food. Sample I- rat partially dissolved.

Sample J- body has begun glowing. Tail has noticeable twitching.

March 23, 1981

Sample A- plant has grown 8.23 cm. Sample C- plant has grown 8.04 cm. Sample D- growth of 6.82 cm.

Adjusted hypothesis: ectoplasm provides greater assistance to wounded/ill plants.

"May I direct your attention to the log for April 14?" The prosecutor asked.

April 14, 1981

Surviving and reanimated rats have eaten contaminated plants and each other. Vlad cites behavior as disturbing and votes to stop all animal testing until we can create adequate containment due to multiple escapes. Also cites ethical concerns; experiments causing too much distress to animals.

He is thinking too small. The animals do not have a large enough body to metabolize the amount of ectoplasm needed to maintain homeostasis after initial exposure. In addition, rat does not have a way to communicate thoughts and experiences.

Jack and I will be controls. No need to alert Vlad yet; behavior changes may invalidate results.

-

Bile ran up Danny's throat. This had to be a late April Fool's joke. Or faked by Vlad. This- his parents couldn't do something like this.

[doctorshipper137]

Never Poke My Child

[Danny wants peace from Vlad's childish games and their fights.

Clockwork cannot always be there to save the day but he will do anything for Daniel and knows just a thing to make Vladimir stop his chase after Ghost child.

Walker owns him after all]

                              _______________________________

"Why that fruitloop…" Danny grits his teeth getting Ecto blast by Vlad Plasmius a.k.a Vlad Masters whose first Half Ghost and human just like him.

 "Have you changed your mind, little badger?" Plasmius asks, floating above him. "You know I hate doing this to you"

 "You know my answer will always be 'NO' to you" Danny replied, getting up from the ground and rubbing his shoulder where Vlad shot him. "Why are you so obsessed with me anyway? I thought you were after my mum? Even though I am glad you are no longer after her"

 "As much as I love Maddie, which I still do! You are my top priority…"

 "Great, I feel special"

 Plasmius landed on the ground and grinned. "Does that mean you will be my son?"

 Danny hums fake thinking and taps his foot. "Hm…how about…NOOO!!!" He shouts, scaring the shit out of the older ghost and blowing him away using a Ghostly wail.

 They were fighting outside the Casper High school building, it was weird how no one had noticed them yet except Sam and Tucker who watched their fight and worried for their friend.

 "We have to do something!"

 "What can we do? If it was technology I would have been hacked and I can't call Police to help us, can we?"

 Sam's eyes wide and look at Tucker. "That's it! Call Clockwork now!"

 Tucker immediately pulls out his phone and calls Master of time.

 The phone was specifically made by Technus that can help make a call in the Ghost Zone and the Human world with ease.

 Danny and Sam find out Tucker was friends with Technus because of their shared love for Technology. 

 It didn't surprise them because Tucker never leaves his PDA like it's his baby and always plays with it.

 "The number you try to reach is out of reach, please don't try later because I don't have time for the boy scouts, Good day" The call cut off before Tucker would speak and look at Sam with a dumbfounded expression. 

 "What did he say?"

 "He…said hi?"

 "Huh?"

                                      _________________________

 ‘Honestly, what do they think I am? Knight in shining armor?’ Clockwork thought as he watched the mirror where Daniel and Vladimir were fighting with each other. 

 He cannot always interfere and saves the day. 

 Although he can bend rules and teach Vladimir a lesson that he will never forget.

 Yes, maybe he should.

Nonetheless, he stays there and watches over the time stream. His time hasn’t come yet and he is always on time.

Clockwork adult form changes to child form and Old form. Ah, he sometimes can’t control his forms.

 “Now…How should I approach this?” He mumbled to himself. “So many choices…”

                                     _______________________

 It has been 5 weeks since Danny fought with Vlad, He just hopes Vlad doesn’t decide to pop out of nowhere and attacks him again. His surprise visit always leaves him in buries and annoyance.

 Currently, the group is visiting Nasty Burger after their Ghost hunt and avoiding Dash’s group who wants to bully Danny because it’s his fault he got a ‘C’ on his history test.

“I don’t even understand how that is my fault! I didn’t overshadow him and make him fail the test!” Danny says in frustration and anger.

“Did you?” Tucker and Sam ask at the same time looking at him.

“No! Why would I? I have a lot of work on my plate and fighting with ghosts…Plus ever since the Pointdexter accident I decided to never bully again…I almost became Dash in a way…” Danny replied.

 “You learn the lesson”

 “True, in a hard way…”

“Cheer up, Danny! One large meat in buns will clear all your troubles away! In fact, why don’t you come to my house? Mum will be making steak tonight”

Before Danny would say a word, his ghost sense went off, and groaned. “Great…Trouble”

 All three look up at the sky where they see none other than Vlad in his Ghost form Plasmius flying and ready to fight.

 Danny looks around to see no one and glares at the Halfa Ghost. “Don’t make me sue you, fruit loop! Attacking a minor and stalker is illegal!”

 “It’s the Father’s job to look out for his children”

 “NOT YOUR CHILD!!”

 Plasmins shrugs. “Deny as much as you want”

 Danny throws his bag at Tucker and takes a stance. “I am going Ghost!”

 Plasmins smirks seeing the transformation and raises his hand ready to blast him. After Transformation Danny Fenton turns into Danny Phantom, he flies toward him in speed and dodges the Ecto-Blast then slams himself into Plasmins.

 “I AM GONNA KICK YOUR BUTT, FRUIT LOOP!!”

 “TRY IT, LITTLE BADGER!!”

 “Gosh, they do fight like a father and son duo” Tucker commented dumbfounded.

 “Don’t let Vlad hear you saying this…” Sam says already feeling tired and watching the fight. “I don’t get it…Why is he so obsessed with Danny? Why not go after his mother?”

 Tucker funnily looked at her. “Do you want him to?”

 Sam made a sick face and shook her head. “Nope”

 Suddenly a portal opens, and Clockwork flies out of it in his child form and looks at the fight with an unreadable expression.

 “Hey, it’s Clockwork!” Tucker exclaims in surprise and is startled.

 Clockwork changes to his adult form and looks at the two children with a calm smile. “Hello Samantha and Tucker”

 “Here to stop the fight?”

 “In a way, yes”

 “Dude, why did you ignore my call the first time?”

 “I was busy” Clockwork lied easily. “Besides it isn’t my time”

Sam frowned. “What do you mean?”

They heard Danny scream and land on the ground beside them. Danny sat up and rubs his head. “A little help would be nice guys…” Danny says rubbing his head and his ghost senses went off. His eyes widen and see Clockwork floating on his side. Danny gets up and looks alert. “What are you doing here? Did something happen? Did Dan escape? Is there Timeline about to get destroyed because of me again!?”

Clockwork put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “I am here to give Vladimir a taste of his own medicine”

“Huh?” Danny looks confused. “What do you mean?”

“Give up already, little badger? I just-“ Plasminus froze seeing Clockwork and frowns. “What are you doing here?”

Clockwork adult form changes to old form and grins. “Duck”

Plasminus looked confused by that and yelped, getting hit from behind. Danny, Sam, and Tucker’s jaws drop seeing the attacker was none other than Walker himself along with some guards.

“Vlad Plasminus, you are under arrest!” Walker says proudly and arm crossed behind his back.

“For what?” Plasminus asks after he composes himself and looks at Wadern with a deadpan. “I didn’t do any crime!”

Walker pulls out a rule book and opens it. “Section -0991 Crime 69 ‘Assault the underage minor’ The sentence…” He shut the book and pointed his finger at him. “10,000 YEARS!!!!”

“WHAT!?!?” 

Danny unconsciously turns back to his human form and looks at Clockwork. “Oh my god…you sue him for me? To Walker!?”

“I had a much more fitting lesson for him…But I found this situation very amusing besides Wadern owns me” Clockwork says grinning madly. “Now he won’t bother you for a while”

 “Oh yeah…He can’t get out of Ghost Jail” Tucker said, finding this amusing as well.

“If he was in Human jail he could have gotten out easily but how will he get out of Ghost Jail…” Sam laughs. “Money won’t save him from Walker himself!”

Danny couldn’t hold himself back and hugged Clockwork. “THANK YOU!!!”

Clockwork hugs him back. “No one can touch you while I am around, Daniel”

“W-WAIT! THIS IS A MISTAKE! I AM NOT-“

“GET HIM, BOYS! DON’T LET HIM ESCAPE!”

“STOP IN THE NAME OF LAW!!”

Plasmins flies out of there like a rocket and Walker follows after him along with the squad while Danny, Clockwork, Sam, and Tucker laugh at Vlad’s dismay.

                                     ___________________________

[ipoisonai]

Genesis 1:1■■In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness and the MR darkness from the Beast. And God called the light day, and the darkness light. And the evening and the morning were the first day. And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters. And God made the firmament, and the ment was fir. and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was ok. And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day. And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one ●hous●e in the middle of our house, and let the dry land appear: and it was so. And God called the dry land Tristen; and the gathering together of the waters called that shit anakin skyscraper hated: and God saw that it was good. And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding metaphores after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth: and it was so so suck your toe. And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruitloops, whose seed was in itself, after his kind: and God saw that it was good. And the evening and the morning were the third day. He got cornflakes in his buttwhole for this whole segment btw. but. And God said, Let there be lights. "Let's get litty in this earth", god said. in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years: 1887- 13ac circa 1*6

[lexosaurus]

Invisobang: Morge pt 2

It was a beautiful day outside. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming...a corpse was found in the woods.

Or, Amity Park's local cadaver dog trainer was walking her dog in the woods when they discovered a little surprise waiting for them six feet under.

Pairings: none WC: 9886 read on: [ao3] part 2 of 2, read: [part 1]

---

some amazing accompanying art by @ghostkiin

---

“It’s like you’re not even trying!” Plasmius barked, throwing Danny an exaggerated yawn while blocking the ectoblasts thrown his way. “Really, Daniel, you were always woefully incapable compared to me, but this is just abysmal, even for you.”

Danny gritted his teeth and glared back, allowing his glowing eyes to glare to toxic levels. Plasmius picked the wrong week to try to steal blueprints from Fentonworks.

“What, are you going to hit me with a little ectoblast again?”

“Oh I’ll show you an ectoblast,” Danny growled, charging ectoplasm in his palms so concentrated that the green glowed a fierce white. He flung his hands out, releasing the energy with a venomous, “eat shit, Fruitloop!”

But just like the rest of his life, his attack was uncontrolled, wild. It flew several feet to Vlad’s side, nailing a road sign and burning it like acid until there was nothing left.

Plasmius grinned at its charred remains. “Was that supposed to hit me? My, Daniel, I’m quaking in my boots!”

Danny felt his aura increase.

This week had already been shitty enough, even without Vlad’s help. He felt like his brain was trapped in a hailstorm, with constant unavoidable attacks pelting him from all sides. His core was a ball of energy and anxiety, not allowing him to sleep or eat or even breathe without the constant fear about his body and how it was being messed with and he needed to protect it and how he’d failed so miserably at protecting it and now his secret was going to be revealed and he was screwed.

“Well? I’m waiting! Tick tock, Little Badger!”

Ancients, Vlad was such an asshole.

“Shut UP!” Danny yelled, releasing his ghostly wail.

Just as a pink blast slapped him across the face, sending him flying into a brick building.

Plasmius tisked, flying nonchalantly towards him. “We can’t have you using that particular power, now can we? Not while you’re so obviously in control of yourself.”

“Fuck off.”

The older ghost smirked and brushed dust off his red and white cape. “Teenagers. Always so hormonal. What, did a girl at school reject you?”

“What are you talking about?” Danny launched himself back in the air and powered an ice blast. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t care what you have to say.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t,” Vlad said, releasing a plasmius blast just before Danny released his own. The pink blast travelled across the air like a bullet, punching Danny in the gut and sending him crashing back into the building.

Meanwhile, Danny’s ice blast flew a foot above Vlad’s head, webbing itself into a tree and coating the branches with thick icicles.

Danny tried to push himself back onto his shaky feet, only to be pushed back down yet again by another plasmius blast.

Brick tumbled onto his head, coating his vision with dust. His body ached, and his neck was sore from the whiplash.

From his clouded vision, a glowing white figure with red eyes and gaudy horn-like spikes for hair hovered closer to him.

“My, my. You really are out of sorts today,” Plasmius said. “This is almost too easy. I could just take you out right here and go take your parents’ entire spectre speeder straight from your lab.

“What do you even need a spectre speeder for? You can fly,” Danny asked, rubbing a lump from his skull.

“A simple minded teenager such as yourself couldn’t possibly understand my reasons.”

Anger flared through Danny. He gripped some wreckage next to him and forced himself back onto his feet. His legs shook and he felt something wet drip down his calf.

Great, he was bleeding. Just add that to the list of reasons as to why this week was the worst.

“Shut up. I won’t let you do that.”

“Oh?” Plasmius powered a pink blast in each hand. “Then prove it.”

Danny tried, but with each attempted blast, kick, or punch, it seemed like Plasmius was one step ahead of him.

And worse, it felt like he was reveling in the power trip.

A burn here, a kick there—everywhere Danny looked, there was Vlad, glowing fist at the ready. It reminded him of the first time he’d encountered Vlad, back at the mansion. Having Vlad so openly destroy him had been shameful.

Danny collapsed onto the pavement, heaving, his entire body searing in pain.

Plasmius paused to survey him up and down with suspicious eyes. Finally, just as Danny was one breath away from turning invisible out of sheer discomfort, did the ghost finally open his mouth. “Alright, spit it out.”

Anxiety gripped Danny’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“Something’s troubling you enough to make you pathetically weak. It’s honestly embarrassing. I can’t stand here watching my future ward make a fool of himself any longer.”

“I’m not moving in with you, creep,” Danny bit back.

“That’s what you think. No matter, tell your dear old uncle what’s troubling you.”

“Go play in traffic.”

Plasmius’ eyes narrowed. “I’d nearly forgotten what a brat you are. Now tell me before I take methods into my own hands.”

Danny sighed, and attempted to stand. But the moment his foot touched the ground, a sharp pain shot up his shin. He hissed, and lowered himself back to the pavement.

“Well? I don’t have all day.”

“It’s nothing,” Danny grumbled, glaring at the pavement. He felt small under Plasmius’ critical gaze. “Nothing at all.”

“It’s obviously something,” Plasmius said, landing in front of Danny. “Now quit wasting my time and tell me what it is before I—”

“Then why don’t you leave? If I’m just wasting your precious time, then go home! It’s not like you even care about me anyways.”

Vlad leaned in, flaring his aura. “In case it’s not clear to your simple teenage brain, your actions represent the both of us. You fuck up, I have to pay the consequences.”

“Who says this is even about ghost stuff?” Danny hissed. “For all you know, I got in a fight with Jazz.”

Vlad scoffed. “Do you seriously believe me to be that stupid? Of course it’s about your identity! Why else would your core be acting so wildly if its Obsession weren’t at stake?”

Danny flinched.

“You did something, and I want to know what it is so I can determine if I need to run damage control on you or not before you blow this for all of us.”

“It’s...” Danny felt his aura pull back. “It’s about...you know…”

“I can assure you I do not know.”

“I...I might have…the police may have found...it…’

Plasmius sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “What did they find?”

“My—my, uh...body?”

“You mean your identity?” Plasmius’ eyes widened.

“Not exactly.” Danny felt his face burn. “You know...the body I left when I...after the accident.”

Plasmius reacted instantly. He shot up, glancing around, before grabbing Danny and pulling him through a hastily erected portal.

Danny felt his body squeeze through the portal and then seconds later, he was in Vlad’s study. The ghost threw Danny on his loveseat and heightened his aura. His brows creased, and his eyes glowed a dangerous shade of red. “What exactly do you mean when you say the police found your deceased body? How did this happen? What the hell did you do?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Danny cried indignantly. “They found it with their freakish police dog! I swear I buried it deep in the ground.”

“Well not deep enough, apparently!” Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Of all the stupid, childish things you could do!”

“It wasn’t my fault!”

Vlad ripped his hands away from his face, his eyes snapping back to Danny. He took a step closer to the teen, his eyes narrowing until a red glow peaked underneath. “Then whose fault would it be exactly, hmm? What, is this yet another piece of blame you’re going to cast upon my shoulders? Me, the halfa who has managed to keep this a well kept secret for over twenty years when you apparently can’t even manage to keep it to yourself for one?”

Danny let his own ghostly strength shine through his eyes. “Quit acting like I invited them all over. I didn’t, it was a coincidence. A mistake.”

“Oh, goodness me!” Vlad let out a sardonic laugh. “I guess when the Ghost Investigative Ward appear at my doorstep in a month, I’ll just tell them it was all a mistake. That’s sure to turn them right around!”

“Shut up.”

“No I will not.” Vlad’s face set back into a scowl. “You have proven yourself to be a liability again and again, and every single time it’s me who has to clean up your little messes. Messes that you don’t seem to realize could be the end of our kind!”

Anxiety shot through Danny’s stomach. He gripped the arm rests of the chair, squeezing them so tightly he heard the faint sounds of cracking in the wood.

“And now you mean to tell me that the police have your rotting, ectoplasm-drenched inhuman corpse in their possession?” Vlad yelled. “And you’re really trying to argue with me that it was just a simple mistake?”

Danny’s shaking hand slipped, tearing off a chunk of the armchair. It clattering to the floor. “I don’t—I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t…”

Vlad closed his eyes, but Danny could still see the wisps of red shimmering through his eyelids. “No, of course you didn’t. But that doesn’t mean we can let them keep it.”

“I’ve tried.” His voice cracked. “I keep trying to convince them to stop, but they won’t—”

“What, you actually thought they’d listen to you? A ghost? My boy, I know you were dim, but this is truly extraordinary.”

Danny sniffed, keeping his head down. He felt like an egg boiling over, the yolk just one jolt away from breaking.

“No…” Plasmius hummed. “What we need is to take it back by force.”

“We can’t, they have the whole morgue under a shield. We can get in as ghosts, and it’d look too suspicious if we showed up as humans.”

“Unfortunately, you may be right about us appearing as humans. We can’t do that. But,” Plasmius’ tone shifted, “one thing we can do is break the shield.”

Danny froze. He gazed questioningly up at the older ghost, who was facing the window with a renewed sense of determination. “Break the shield? How? We can’t touch it!”

“No, but the shield doesn’t exist on its own. It has to be generated from somewhere, doesn’t it? Do you see? We break the device, we break the shield.”

Danny wasn’t following, and he was sure his face betrayed that much.

“Listen, Little Badger. Ghosts cannot touch the shield or the device, but who says—oh I don’t know—maybe a collapsed ceiling might do the trick? Some torn cables, perhaps? After all, with no energy supply, how could it possibly generate the power necessary to produce a shield?”

Danny felt his eyes widen. Something icy settled in his gut. When he spoke, his voice was hollow. “You want to destroy the building.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t be so crude, but perhaps a few colleagues of mine might be swayed—”

“No.” Danny stood automatically.

Vlad’s head snapped over to him. “No?”

He could feel Vlad’s confusion, and it blended with his own. Deep down, he knew he needed to stop at nothing to get his body back, but collapsing the building? Putting others in danger?

Putting his remains in danger of ruin?

What if something happened? What if a brick fell on his skull? What if a spike tore his abdomen in half?

No, he couldn’t do it. It wasn’t worth the risk.

This was wrong.

“We can’t,” Danny choked out. “You’ll hurt it.”

“I don’t think you understand, Little Badger,” Vlad hissed, leaning down.

Danny could feel the heat of his red eyes on his skull.

“With the position you’ve put us both in? You don’t get to decide what happens to your corpse now.”

“No, Vlad. I’m serious. You can’t—”

“And so am I.” Plasmius straightened, and his aura tinted to a dangerous pink. “You’ve put us at risk one time too many. Now I’m taking things into my own hands. And no amount of scary eyes is going to sway me.”

In one motion, Vlad ripped open a portal and pushed Danny through. Before he could blink, he was back in the damp alley they’d just been in.

“Good day, Danny Phantom.”

Plasmius shut the portal, and Danny was alone.

---

“Thank you for taking the time to come talk to us about this,” Mark said, opening the conference room door for the consultant before him. “This case is unfortunately a bit out of my expertise, and the lab results are even more perplexing. Hopefully you’ll be able to parse through the documents much easier than I.”

Dr. Maddie Fenton, dressed in her typical turquoise lab attire, stepped through the door and took a seat at the table. “Of course, I’m always happy to help Amity’s law enforcement protect its citizens against ghosts.”

“Well,” Mark pulled out a chair for himself, placing the manila folders against the table. “This is actually a bit more complex.”

“Oh?” Dr. Fenton reached for the folders.

“To bring you up to speed, I mentioned on the phone that we needed your assistance with a murder case involving a ghost. But there’s a bit more to it.”

She opened the folder and leafed through the files.

“The truth is the body we uncovered we believe to be Phantom’s body.”

Dr. Fenton paused, her eyebrows shooting up. She glanced up at Mark. “That’s a rather serious case. What evidence do you have to support that?”

“Well…” Mark started. “When we uncovered the body, Phantom appeared above it, and was acting rather erratically. Like a cornered animal, almost.”

“He felt threatened.”

“Right.” He nodded. “But it’s more than that. When we ran forensics on the body, we found that all our lab results were corrupted with ectoplasm. Ectoplasm that when we ran the ectosignature for, turned out to be Phantom’s.”

Dr. Fenton looked back down at the files. “That’s highly unusual.”

“Well we were hoping you’d be able to piece this all together.” Mark gestured to the files.

“I see…” Dr. Fenton’s voice trailed off. Her eyes scanned the page, hungrily soaking up each word. The silence stretched on for a few minutes as Mark awaited her opinion.

Contacting the Fentons had been something Mark had been pushing off for as long as possible. The Fentons were loud, boisterous, and not at all known for their professionalism nor tact.

But it was either they contact the Fentons or the Ghost Investigation Ward. And despite Phantom’s cold demeanor towards the detectives, Mark still had hope that perhaps he could gain the teen ghost’s trust. And to do that, the GiW could not be anywhere near the station.

Of the duo, Maddie Fenton seemed the most level-headed. And it had just been Mark’s luck that of the pair, she was the one with a doctorate in ectobiology. Which meant that it was perfectly understandable when Mark had requested that she alone come into the station to review the files.

“We’re trying to keep this on the down-low. If Phantom feels like we’re going to turn him over to the government, he’ll clam up. As it stands we’re only barely getting information out of him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t trust anything he says anyway,” she said, not looking up from the paper. “He’ll do whatever possible to keep himself safe. Ghosts are products of their Obsessions, and Phantom is no different. If he feels like this investigation is going to come in the way of him being able to feed into his Obsession, then he’ll do anything to stop that from happening. No matter who he hurts in the process.”

Mark felt a shudder creep up his spine. “Do you think he could be lying about this being his body? Maybe he could have been the one to kill this boy and is trying to cover it up?”

“Hmm…no, that doesn’t seem likely given the labs. And besides, it would be highly unusual for Phantom to be summoned to a body that wasn’t his. Although…” Dr. Fenton mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this before.”

“Like what?”

“Well, when an animal dies near a cluster of ambient ectoplasm, their body runs the risk of forming a ghost. However, there must be a significant final moment for the neural pathways in the brain to bond with the ectoplasm. That moment translates into an Obsession, which forms the core that the ghost then forms around. If a human dies peacefully, there’s nothing to work with. But if the human dies violently, or if they die with unfinished business, that gives the ambient ectoplasm something to charge with.”

Mark nodded politely, not seeing where this was going. This was all common knowledge for the people of Amity, and Mark had certainly seen enough of the Fentons’ public speeches to understand these basics.

“The ambient ectoplasm comes from the electrical connections in the brain, unrelated to what’s happening in the body. It’s why a human can be paralyzed from the waist-down, but still form a ghost with functioning legs. Do you see what I’m saying?”

Mark nodded, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not seeing how this relates to Phantom specifically?”

“There’s no real reason that Phantom’s human body should have been corrupted by ectoplasm. In fact, there’s never been a case of a human body with an ectosignature embedded in its cells. It’s virtually impossible, in fact. Living cells are completely incompatible with ectoplasm.”

Mark stared down at his own copy of the reports, his mind reeling. “You’ve never seen this before?”

“Not in my twenty years in this field.”

“Do you have any idea what could have caused this?”

Dr. Fenton pursed her lips. “There’s one...it would explain a lot about him actually. Human experimentation.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

“You don’t think…” Mark’s voice trailed off, his tongue incapable of finishing the sentence. To think that some sick individual would even attempt such a thing.

“It’s the only logical explanation here.” Dr. Fenton gestured at her folder. “Or at least, the only one I can piece together given this information. Phantom would have had to have died after interacting with an intense amount of ecto-technology. Technology with the power to chemically alter every cell in his living body just before finishing him off with electrocution. Of course, it’s just a theory. Only Phantom knows the truth.”

“Right.” He could hardly process what was being said. “But he won’t tell us the truth.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. Ghosts run a different social hierarchy than humans, theirs is far more simple. It’s entirely based on strength. The stronger the ghost, the better they protect their haunt, the more respect they’re given within ghost culture. If Phantom shows weakness, then the other ghosts can use that to dethrone him as the human world’s great protector.”

“But we’re not ghosts.”

“But he is.” Dr. Fenton cocked her head. “This explains other things too. Like the fact that Phantom, a relatively new ghost, is already a level seven on the ectoplasm power scale.”

“I assume that’s unusual.”

“Quite. It would have had to require an extremely intense death at the very least. But human experimentation with ectoplasm, feelling your body reject itself from the inside out, every strand of DNA being corrupted by the essence of death—that’s not an end I’d wish on my worst enemies.”

“And now we have his corpse. Phantom’s going to feel incredibly threatened. He’s bound to lash out.”

Dr. Fenton nodded gravely. “Then you better wrap this investigation up quickly, because Phantom is still a young ghost. He’s impatient, like a child. The longer you take to solve this case, the more unstable he’ll get. And I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end when he finally snaps.”

---

A dull unease panged at Danny’s core. It was calling to him, trying to goad him to his corpse.

Trouble, trouble, trouble, it seemed to whisper.

But he ignored it, just like he’d been ignoring it all this time. Because no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get past the shields, he couldn’t get back to his corpse.

He was powerless. Alone.

Scared.

He tried to focus on his math worksheet, but the numbers blurred together and he couldn’t remember what eight times seven was. He had a calculator, but it was in his bag and he couldn’t remember what pocket he’d shoved it into, or even if he’d remembered to put it in his bag last night after staring blankly at the homework assignment for an hour without lifting his pencil even once.

No, his calculator was probably still on his desk at home.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

The voices were louder now, and the pull was more desperate.

His throat hurt, and for a moment he was convinced his lungs were collapsing before he remembered that he’d forgotten to release the air trapped in his lungs and he couldn’t remember when he’d stopped breathing.

“Danny?” Mr. Falluca said from the front of the room. “Is everything alright?”

He commanded his head to nod, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. Maybe he did. He couldn’t check, he couldn’t lift his eyes from the desk.

The voices were too loud.

The dull pang wasn’t so dull anymore.

Trouble, trouble, go now, go now.

The pang was solidifying, taking shape. It was becoming sharper, more urgent.

Go now, go now, go now.

The pokes turned into pricks, threatening to rupture his organs, sending needles down the nerves in his arms and legs. A headache sparked before his eyes and his vision swam.

The voices attacked him from all angles, and fingers brushed against his skin, tugging the sleeves of his shirt towards the window, the ceiling, the wall, the door— anywhere so long as it was away from here. Outside. To the morgue.

Go to the morgue.

Ignore it, be strong. Just ignore it and it’ll go away.

Go now.

No.

Go now, go now, GO NOW.

No, he couldn’t.

The pinpricks finally morphed into one sharp, icy cold knife.

It stabbed his core.

Go now.

He stood from his chair, knocking it back.

Vaguely, he could hear the alarmed cries of his classmates, but he ignored them.

The only thing that mattered was his body. His corpse.

Protect.

A hand grabbed his arm, yanking him back, but he could feel the warmth of the human blood running under its veins and he couldn’t be bothered with human problems right now. Not when he was in danger.

He phased through the grip, and ran out of the classroom. He sprinted down the hall, tearing open the familiar looking door and transforming and taking off into the sky nearly as soon as the sun brushed his skin.

This was different than all the other times his core had tried to coax him to his corpse. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong. His body was in danger, and he needed to save it.

He heard an explosion in the distance, and he increased his speed, feeling his eyes sting as the cool air slapped against his corneas. The world blurred, but it was okay. His core was guiding him now, not his eyes. He didn’t need to see, he just needed to close off and follow his ghostly instincts.

“That’s right!” A deep voice yelled from across the way.

Danny pulled to a halt, blinking the sting from his vision.

Then a boulder flew past his body, hitting the wall of a disturbingly familiar building.

His core yelled in protest. The body was in danger. His body.

“You thought a pesky shield could keep me out? Me, Skulker, the Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter? I’ll show you!”

Ice filled his veins, freezing his aura and building in power around his hands.

Skulker hoisted a parked motorcycle from the edge of the street into the air. “Take this!” he yelled, hurling it into the air.

It was heading straight for the door. It was going to break it, it might break the window, it could damage the body.

An icicle stabbed his core, and before Danny could blink, his hands were raised and jagged blue ice was shooting from his palms, catching the motorcycle in midair and pinning it to the street.

“What is the meaning of this?” Skulker roared, whipping around. His eyes locked on Danny and his confusion melted from this face only to be replaced by a triumphant smirk. “Well hello there, ghost child.”

Danny’s palms burned an even brighter blue. “ Leave,” he hissed, the Ghost Speak slipping off his tongue like butter.

Skulker’s grin widened. “It seems I’ve touched a nerve. Fear not, child, I’m just here to procure your pelt. Well, your other pelt.”

He flashed his aura in a showcase of power that would send most ghosts running for the hills. “Leave.”

A look of contempt replaced the humor on Skulker’s face. His eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered. “I don’t take orders from you, child.”

There was a natural balancing act between his human brain and ghost core, one that ensured that neither half of him was in full control one hundred percent of the time. No matter how human he was, his core still lingered in the background, and no matter how ghost he was, his human brain still kept tabs on his movements.

But now, as Danny watched Skulker rip a slab of concrete from the ground, he felt something snap inside of him.

“Then I have no choice.”

Green overtook his vision, and Danny Fenton simply disappeared.

Time passed—or it didn’t—in swirls of blue and green. If he looked out, he could see the power released from his gloves, he could see the mix of ectoplasm and ice that he was hurling at Skulker, to protect the building, to protect his body, to protect himself from Plasmius.

That vindictive, lonely asshole.

Who was Plasmius to encroach on what was his?

There were flashing lights around him, but Danny paid them no mind. The only thing that mattered was protecting his body.

Protect his haunt.

Protect his people.

Protect.

He could feel the newly pointed teeth pinch his gums, and the ghostly wisps of his hair fizzle around him. But oddly these changes didn’t worry him, instead they made him feel safe, secure. Like a child clinging onto their blanket.

He launched another barrage of attacks at Skulker, tearing holes through his armor. Panic struck Skulker’s features, and all Danny could think of was, ‘good.’ If Skulker wanted to try to claim dominance over his body, then he would suffer tenfold.

And just before he was about to launch a blast at Skulker that was sure to disintegrate his armor, an amplified voice behind him called out, “PHANTOM!”

Danny flinched, his power leaking out of its concentrated ball.

Weak.

“Phantom, stand down!”

Not a chance.

“We have the area surrounded. Stand down or we’ll be forced to shoot.”

“Better listen to your human puppets,” Skulker said, his voice too shaken to sound mocking. “I know when I’ve been bested.”

It took everything in Danny’s power to not launch himself over to Skulker and tear off his head. “You tried to steal my body.”

“That’s a fight between you and Plasmius.”

“Don’t try to get out of this.”

“Phantom,” Detective Johnson said. “Final warning. Stand down.”

Ectoplasm surged throughout his body. “Make me.”

Multiple events happened at once. Skulker motioned to leave just as Danny raised his arms, blistering white light moments away from release. Then, pain seared through his torso.

Danny yelped, jerking his hand back and releasing the ectoblast somewhere off into the sky. He fell back and hit the ecto-shield, sending electrical warnings through his bones.

Memories of the portal, of the thousands of volts of electricity, of the feeling of his bones and muscles and tissues and cells being ripped apart and stitched back together flashed before his eyes. It was too much, all too much too soon too present. He tried blasting the portal but his gloves were splattered with green and oh no, not good, not good.

He was dying, wasn’t he?

Again.

Would he have a second body?

His vision tilted, and finally he managed to rip himself away from the shield. He collapsed onto the cement and stared up at the sky, chest heaving.

He was paralyzed. He knew he had fingers, toes, arms, legs—but they didn’t work. He couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t fly.

He was dying.

“Phantom?” Johnson’s cautious voice sounded from somewhere off to the side. “Sit up, let’s talk through this.”

There was a pregnant pause, and then Danny finally managed to blink. The world snapped back into focus, and his surroundings came with it. He looked down at his torso to see a little hole in his side of his suit surrounded by a trickle of green.

“What—?” Danny gasped.

“I’m gonna put the gun down, okay?” Johnson said. “I just wanna talk.”

“No.” Danny slowly pushed himself up. He surveyed the damage along the walls, the falling bricks on the sidewalk, the shattered windows and bent door. “No, no, no.”

His body wasn’t safe. Not anymore.

“Phantom, come on. Work with me here.”

But he couldn’t. That detective and his partner were just human, they didn’t understand. This was his body and Vlad knew about it and was trying to take matters into his own hands no matter the cost to Danny.

This was a disaster. He shouldn’t have told Vlad anything. He was so stupid for thinking Vlad could help him. He should have known, should have known.

“Phantom.”

“No.”

The cloak of invisibility covered his body, and he shot up into the sky.

Towards the city.

He needed to end this.

---

Sarah felt the chill first.

“You have to stop,” Phantom’s voice echoed behind her.

She sighed and put down her pencil. “Phantom, I thought I explained this already. The police can’t—”

“I don’t care about the police!”

The room grew cold.

“I don’t...ugh!” Phantom floated around her desk, clutching his forehead with one hand and his chest with the other. Mark had just called her with a warning, saying that Phantom was unstable. Looking at the ghost now, Sarah had to agree.

Phantom looked awful.

Dark circles pooled under his eyes, his hair stuck up in all directions, and his face lacked the green blush that normally sat below his skin. His jumpsuit was burned and dried ectoplasm crusted around the torn edges. He looked every bit the image of someone quickly coming undone.

Except this wasn’t just some random person, this was a powerful ghost. This was someone who could easily kill anyone who wronged him.

Or who he felt wronged him.

Deep down, Sarah knew Phantom wasn’t a violent ghost. It didn’t line up with his ghostly Obsession, or the theorized one anyway. But this was his corpse they were dealing with, it was an extension of himself.

Sarah had never confronted a ghost who had lost possession of their corpse. She’d never dealt with a ghost who willingly protected the shield that kept him away from his body if only to make sure it stayed safe. She’d never seen Phantom look so rattled.

At this point, there was no telling what he was capable of.

“Phantom,” she tried cautiously. “You need to calm down.”

“No, you need to tell your buddies to call off this investigation!”

“You know I can’t do that. I have no control over the department, and even if I did, we need to follow the law.”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Why, because I’m a ghost? Because my words mean nothing because I’m not human? I’m telling you that I don’t want to press any charges, I don’t get why that’s not good enough!”

The room grew even colder.

“We’ve been over this. Please, Phantom, sit down—”

“No!” he snapped. “I’ve been telling you guys since the beginning that this was a bad idea, that people are going to get hurt! And no, nobody listened to me because I’m a fucking ghost! And now look, the building was attacked! My body was attacked! Do you—” his voice cracked, and the glow on his eyes wobbled. He drifted closer to her. “Do you even understand? Do you get how dangerous this is? Do you understand the people you guys have pissed off? Who you’re playing with now?”

Sarah took a deep breath. Even as a human, the power Phantom was emitting was palpable. “What people? You mean the ghost who attacked the morgue?”

“Not him. He—he’s just a lacky. Just following orders.” He let out a bitter laugh, running his hand over his forehead and smearing green across his skin. “You guys have no idea, you really don’t…”

Dread crept up Sarah’s spine. If what Mark was saying was true, then this could run deeper than they thought. “Explain it to me.”

“I’m…” He glanced up, looking ill. “I’m not…normal. For a ghost, I mean. I can’t explain it. I really can’t. But the other ghosts...they consider me a liability. And now that you guys have my—my body, they’re afraid.”

“Why are they afraid?”

“Because…” His brow furrowed. “I can’t—I can’t…”

She tilted her head, watching the ghost choke on his words. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll stop at nothing till they get my body back. They’ll kill everyone in that building if it means nobody finds out my secret.”

What secret? Sarah wanted to scream, but she held back.

“Phantom,” Sarah lowered her tone. “Are they the reason you’ve been so afraid of us finding out the truth? Have they threatened you in any way?”

“No!” He backed up in shock. “I—I mean, sort of? Listen, it’s not because of him—them, I promise. It’s more complicated than that. He’s just protecting me, you know? If my secret gets out, that would put them all in danger, but it would put me in even more danger. I wouldn’t...I’d have to leave. I’d be on the run.”

“Why?”

“It’s so messed up.”

“Then tell me.”

She already knew. She just needed him to confirm it for her.

He looked to her, his bright green eyes seemingly desperate for help. But he shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

“Wait—”

But he was already gone.

---

“I’ve never seen him look so scared,” Abrams said.

“So you think he’s right.” Crowley took a long swig of his coffee, “Course you do.”

“It makes sense,” Abrams insisted. “Why else would Phantom be so terrified of people finding the truth?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know, maybe it’s because he’s a teen who was playing with electrical equipment he wasn’t supposed to be near and even in death doesn’t want to get in trouble for it!”

“Yes but how would that explain all the ectoplasm in his DNA? That doesn’t come from just any electric shock.”

“Who knows,” Crowley said. “The Fentons have always been crackpots. Always have had ludicrous theories. Now suddenly when it’s convenient, you’re all running to their side?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “We’re not running to their side.”

“Then what do you call this?” Crowley gestured to the duo. “Sure looks like it to me.”

“You have to admit that it makes sense,” Mark said. “I mean, get real. Doesn’t any of this smell fishy to you?”

Crowley slapped his empty coffee mug on the table. “You know what smells fishy to me? The Fentons are the only known ecto-scientists in this whole damn city, the only people who have lab-grade ecto-equipment in Amity Park, and suddenly right when they were getting into some financial trouble, Phantom appears out of nowhere from a death that reeks of forced ecto-contamination. That smells fishy to me.”

Mark paused, but then shook his head. “If that were true, then why would Dr. Fenton even offer human experimentation as a possibility?”

“To gloat? Gain our trust? Test our intelligence?” Crowley threw his hands up. “Who knows? They’re crazy!”

“So you think we need to investigate them?” Mark asked.

“I’d be a damn shit detective if I didn’t. They have the means and motive to create a ghost like Phantom. It’s just like Maddie said.”

“I think he’s right,” Abrams said, nibbling on her bagel. “If this is actually a case of ecto-experimentation, then the Fentons should be on the list of suspects.”

“Finally, some common sense around here. Just about the only case of common sense these days…” Crowley grumbled.

Mark chose to ignore that comment, instead checking his phone. No notifications, damn. The entire department had been on high alert for Phantom ever since the attack on the morgue. Mark was just relieved that the new and improved ecto-guns had finally been issued that morning. If not for the updated technology, that incident likely would have ended far less smoothly.

Not that it really ended smoothly. Phantom had yet again escaped Mark’s clutches, free to run off and break into Sarah’s home.

Guilt clawed at Mark’s stomach, but he pushed it back. Phantom was a slippery ghost, one that had escaped all levels of ghost hunters from the Fentons, to the Ghost Investigation Ward. Mark knew it would take a lot more than a few words of peace and one ecto-gun to stop that kind of raw power.

“What do we even know about the Fentons?” Abrams asked.

“They’re ghost hunters and mostly make weapons now, but before that they dabbled in all sorts of ecto-based technology. The husband, Jack, is the engineer and the wife, Maddie, is the biologist. They have two kids, Jasmine and Daniel. Jasmine, or ‘Jazz’ is supposedly top of her class, likely to graduate valedictorian, while Daniel’s something else. Bad grades, skips class, all around a bit of a loner,” Crowley said, regurgitating information like he was reading a case file.

Mark glanced at his colleague, giving him an impressed smirk. “Did your homework early, eh?”

“I told you, something aint right here,” Crowley said.

“And? What do you think?” Mark asked.

“What I think is that I’m shocked their house is even coded to have a lab inside. I’d like to know whose ass they kissed to give them that permit.”

Abrams snorted. “Jesus, Jacob.”

“What? I’m right!”

“Fine, whatever,” Mark stood, collecting his empty coffee cup and paper plate. “I godda head home, my sister’s visiting this weekend.”

“Alright, tell Susan I said hello. And say hi to her little demon child too.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “She’s four.”

“What, four year olds can’t be demons? I should know, I had two of them.”

Abrams swiped her empty wrapper and tossed it in the trash. “Yeah, I have to feed Atlas. I’ll see you both next week.”

“Take care!”

---

“Well at least we know Phantom didn’t change anything about his facial structure when he became a ghost.” Crowley’s small eyes swiveled between the photo of Phantom in one hand and the new sketch rendition of his human identity.

Mark grunted and stared at his own copy of the photo.

The corpse had been too decomposed to be able to distinguish a face, and ghosts often change their appearance in death. Sure, Phantom looked like a regular human, but it was impossible to know that for a fact.

Fortunately, modern research and re-composition was advanced enough that they didn’t have to wonder for long. Especially with this being such a high-profile case for the city.

And as it turned out, aside from the hair, Phantom really didn’t look all too different when he was alive. He had the same sharp nose, the same angular chin, the same boyish face. The only thing that was different was his hair and presumably his eye color, although that was still a mystery due to the corrupted DNA.

Even though there was little change to Phantom’s appearance, seeing the black haired, brown eyed human boy staring back at Mark was rather shocking, if he were being honest. There was something off putting about seeing this enigma quite literally brought back to life. It took away that edge of lore that the heroic town enigma had.

Now Phantom wasn’t some wild mystery. He was just...a kid.

“This really is something,” Crowley said. “Guess we should put it to good use.”

Mark sighed, turning his attention back to his desktop. Sifting through missing person’s reports was never exactly a fun way to start the morning.

“You think you can handle it, rookie?” Crowley asked.

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting.”

Crowley let the photographs drop to his side. “Alright, I’m going to continue doing some digging on our suspects.”

“Good luck.”

“And you.”

The work was tedious and depressing. Face after face of missing minors flickered across his screen. It was almost too hard to believe that Phantom was a part of this list.

Caucasian. Black hair. Eye color unknown. Five foot five.

That was all they had on Phantom. For all they knew, he could have been from another city entirely.

But hopefully Mark would find a hit, at least one kid from Amity who fit the profile.

And in fact, there were a few...sort of. Four teens who had black hair and were about five foot five. But none of them looked quite like Phantom.

Which meant Mark had to widen his search.

How wonderful.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out wide. It was nearly lunchtime now and he felt like he’d gotten no further than where he was before. Mark stood from his chair, feeling a bit defeated. Hopefully Crowley would’ve had better luck on the suspect list than Mark.

He strolled over to Crowley’s desk, only to find the desk empty. Crowley had likely already left for lunch, the bastard hadn’t even bothered to grab Mark on the way.

Not that Mark could really blame him. He doubted Crowley wanted to use his lunch break to talk about the case after the tedious research they both had spent their mornings doing.

Mark dug his phone out of his pocket, intent on sending the older detective an update, when he stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, a familiar face stared up at him.

Mark slowly lowered the device and crept toward the desk, as if his mere presence would disintegrate the paper on his desk.

Inside Fentonworks: the Fenton family’s home-grown anti-ghost business!

It was an article printed from some online magazine that Mark didn’t recognize. Slapped on the cover of the page, just under the title, was a photo of a family of four beaming, waving at the camera. One of the members was a young boy—about Phantom’s age—with black hair in almost the same haircut as Phantom, with that crooked smile that Phantom had been caught adorning all too many times.

Waving at the camera.

Skinny, short for a boy, son to two ecto-science parents who fill their basement with dangerous high-voltage and easily combustible ecto-technology.

His name was listed as Daniel.

Mark glanced at the two images in his hand, and then looked at the article below him.

Holy shit.

No. There was no way. Crowley had been suspicious of them, and he had good reason to include them on his suspect list, but this kid was alive. He wasn’t missing, he wasn’t dead, he was standing right there.

It just wasn’t possible.

His apple watch pinged, alerting him of a ghost attack nearby.

Mark hurried back to his desk, swiping his coat off his chair.

This was impossible.

The police sketch and the copy of the article pressed against his fist.

Phantom was a ghost. Ghosts will do anything to protect themselves. They would lie, cheat, and manipulate humans in order to stay on top.

Mark was just seeing things.

There was no way that this was him.

He beelined for the door, tucking the papers into his pants pocket.

It wasn’t possible.

The drive there was short, and the fight even shorter. It had just been the Box Ghost, so nothing that Phantom couldn’t handle. The ghost gave his little song and dance, captured the ghost, and waved brightly to the crowd. But Mark could see right through it, right past all the cracks in his façade.

Phantom was losing it.

And Mark could end this.

“Phantom!” Mark called out through his cupped hands.

The ghost flinched, his cheery face replaced with a scowl instantly.

“Another time,” he said.

But Mark didn’t have another time. He needed to know now.

Because Phantom could end this insane proposition. He could laugh heartlessly at the mere mention that he was this random living child. He was Phantom, protector of Amity Park, not some human experiment.

Not some impossibility.

Not some kid who’s been dead for a year and only pretending to be human for his family.

Not the greatest act of manipulation from a ghost that Mark had ever seen.

Mark yanked the papers from his pocket and unfolded them with shaking fingers. He held them up hastily, knowing that they were too far away for normal human eyes.

But this was Phantom. He wasn’t human.

Mark saw the exact moment that Phantom recognized the photos. The ghost’s eyes widened, his face paled, his aura dimmed. Then, in the blink of an eye, the ghost vanished.

Mark was right.

---

The air was thick, tense. Phantom slumped in his armchair, his body the equivalent of a white flag. Even so, his eyes were bright, charged with nervous energy.

He was terrified.

Atlas must have sensed this, because the dog had decided to break away from being Sarah’s shadow to lay against the ghost’s feet.

“I don’t know where to start,” Phantom admitted after a few tense beats of silence.

“The beginning, maybe,” Jacob said.

Phantom looked sick at the suggestion, but relented. “You’re right. Yeah...I…” he glanced up at the two detectives and Sarah seated across the coffee table on her dull green couch. Phantom had appeared in her kitchen not even an hour ago, looking like he’d just seen the personification of death itself.

And instantly, Sarah knew.

She’d tried to coax him to let her bring him to the station so he could come clean there, but he refused. He said the information was too sensitive and he didn’t trust the station to not have cameras recording every angle of every room.

And so they settled on her living room instead. Mark and Jacob arrived, seeming none too surprised by the arrangement, and more than willing to follow Phantom’s direction if it meant they would finally get the truth.

Which Phantom didn’t seem remotely ready to give.

“I guess…” He tried again, closing his eyes. There was another tense moment of silence before a pair of white rings appeared around Phantom’s waist, traveling up his body and leaving behind a skinny black haired teenager.

Phantom cautiously opened his eyes. And, to Sarah’s surprise, they were blue.

“You’re Daniel Fenton,” Mark said.

She heard Jacob suck in a breath.

“Yes. I’m Danny Fenton.” Without the echo, his voice sounded much closer, much more down to earth than Phantom’s. “And a year ago, I was in an accident.”

His voice, like the rest of him, seemed softer without the powerful aura of Phantom behind it. If Sarah had passed him on the street, she wouldn’t have blinked twice. Gone was the cocky personality, the perfect posture, the floating white hair, the bright, determined expression. Gone was the jumpsuit, the logo, the strong voice that seemed like it could project for a mile, the banter, the confidence.

It was just a kid. A kid with baggy jeans, dirty shoes, and a plain shirt. He didn’t seem lithe, he looked weak. The green undertone to his skin was replaced with red, and his shoulders hunched in a way Sarah had never seen on Phantom before.

“What happened?” Mark asked.

“When my parents first completed their interdimensional ghost portal, it didn’t work. I decided to—it was my fault. I just decided to go in it. I don’t know why.” He looked up to the ceiling. “It was a stupid idea. The portal was plugged in, but there was a switch inside that wasn’t turned on, and I tripped over a wire and turned it on. From the inside.”

Sarah felt a pang in her chest. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah. It was,” Phantom agreed. “And then I guess the portal stabilized the connection between Amity Park and the Ghost Zone, because ghosts started appearing in town. So I decided that if it was my fault that they were here, I was going to protect the town. And that’s what I’ve done.”

That’s his Obsession, Sarah realized. It’s protection.

“Why not come out with it?” Jacob asked. “Why bury your body? Why still try to pass as a human?”

Phantom’s head fell into his hands. “I didn’t know what else to do! It—I...you have to understand, my parents would never understand. They think all ghosts are evil. I couldn’t just come out and tell them what happened, they’d kill me!”

“So you decided it was safer to play human,” Jacob said.

“Yeah. I guess I did. Especially since...I sort of still am?” He lifted his head and stuck out his wrist. “I still have a pulse.”

No one moved.

“You’re shitting me,” Jacob guffawed.

“No, I’m being serious. The portal killed me, but then it brought me back to life. Except by then my body was already altered from the ecto-electricity, so the working theory is that I exist in this sort of limbo state between dead and alive. Hence why…” He transformed into Phantom and then back to Fenton. “Hence why I have two forms.”

“And the body,” Mark said. “The coroner report said it only weighed a little over half the weight of a normal body due to all the ectoplasm. But if you’re half alive, how would you have a body?”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know? To be honest, that day was such a nightmare that I’ve mostly blocked it out.”

Mark finally reached over and took the boy’s wrist. He pressed two fingers against the skin and waited.

“Damn.” His eyes widened. “It’s actually there.”

“No way,” Jacob said, leaning over to take Phantom’s wrist. A few seconds passed before he was joining Mark’s reaction. “It is there.”

“I know.” Phantom tucked his arm back to his chest. “I don’t understand it. I have a heart and also a ghost core. I can feel it all the time, even as a human. I have human thoughts and feelings and ghostly instincts playing constantly.”

As confusing and morbid as this was, it made sense in a sort of twisted way that Sarah only reserved for the rambling logic of her paranoid, senior grandmother. It explained why Phantom, a ghost, would willingly risk himself day in and day out over the safety of humans. Phantom was a ghost who was driven to protect his home, and he was also a human who wanted to look after those he loved.

He was truly Schrödinger’s cat. Dead and alive inside his little box, his little town, with no one able to measure him.

“That’s the thing that sets you apart from the ghosts,” Sarah said, tapping her knee with her finger. “That day when you came to my house saying that you were different, this is what you were talking about. You also said it would be dangerous if this information got out.”

The question was implied, and Phantom seemed to pick up on it, judging by his grimace.

“You weren’t talking about your parents.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“So then who is it? Who was trying to destroy the morgue? Who are you hiding from?”

Danny crossed his arms and glared at the floor. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said bitterly. “The government. GiW, all of them. Think of what they’d do if they knew someone could be both dead and alive at the same time.”

“Well fuck the lot of them,” Jacob said.

“Yeah,” Danny agreed.

“And the ghost who was trying to take down the morgue?” Mark pressed.

“I…” Danny’s eyes shifted. “I can’t say. It’s a ghost thing. All the ghosts in the Zone know about me, they call me a halfa. Half alive, half dead. Honestly, I don’t think it took much convincing for them to want to protect me.”

“But you were fighting against them,” Jacob countered. “If they were really trying to protect you, then why not go along with them?”

Danny opened and closed his mouth, the words seemingly stuck in his throat. Words from Maddie’s ecto-biology papers fluttered across Sarah’s eyes, about how ghosts were evil, they were liars, they’d say and do anything to keep themselves safe.

But as Danny let out a defeated sigh, his arms uncrossing to dangle at his side, Sarah couldn’t help but see the face of a scared teen who was just doing his best.

“It’s a ghost thing,” he finally said. “I didn’t like what they were doing because...because I needed to protect my body. If the building collapsed, it would have gotten damaged.”

Sarah blinked, and her and Mark exchanged a glance.

“I see,” Mark said carefully. “So if there was a plan to recover your...body...safely, you would have gone along with it?”

“I don’t know. Ghosts are weird, they all have their own agenda. I’d rather if it were just...left alone. In the ground. Untouched. Like it had been.”

They were silent for a moment, and Sarah watched as Jacob and Mark stared at each other in silent conversation. One that only partners could properly understand.

Finally, Jacob relented. “Okay, here’s the deal. Say I go talk with Chief Davis and he agrees to keep your identity secret. In exchange, all you’d have to do for us is tell your parents.”

For a moment, Sarah thought Phantom was going to bolt out of the armchair.

“Why?”

“Because you’re screwing around putting your life in danger every day, kid,” Jacob said. “Not to mention, your parents’ house is a walking minefield for you. You godda protect yourself.”

“I protect myself just fine.”

“Doesn’t dismiss the fact that you’re running off getting in fights every day with ghosts, and then coming home to a house littered with ecto-weapons that could kill you. You know, all the way.”

“My parents will kill me if they find out though,” Danny said darkly. “You don’t know them.”

“Which is why you won’t be alone. Crowley and I will be there with you. And I know a woman in CPS who can keep this on the down low too. We won’t let anything happen, promise,” Mark said.

Phantom glanced between them, his wide blue eyes betraying just how fearful he was. “You promise?”

“Yeah kid, we got your back.”

---

“It’s going way better than I thought,” Danny said, throwing the stick up the path.

Atlas didn’t hesitate, bounding after the object with an enthusiasm rivaled by no one.

“I’m glad,” Sarah said. “You deserve a safe place to go home to.”

Danny cocked his head. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

Getting to know Danny these past few weeks was surreal. For a year now, Sarah had a set mental image of who Phantom was. The hero, the great protector, the thrill-seeker.

But now, as she got to know the quiet yet snarky kid who went to school and stressed over his math exams just like any other teen would, she’d gotten to appreciate the person that Danny truly was, the person he became when he wasn’t trying to hide his ghostly persona or playing the larger-than-life character.

Atlas pranced back, the stick held high like an Olympic medal.

“Good boy!” Danny praised.

At Sarah’s nonverbal command, Atlas dropped the stick in front of Danny, who was more than happy to pick it up and hurl ahead of the dirt path again.

“It’s weird. It’s almost like...I don’t know, it’s just kind of relieving? To not need to hide? Like don’t get me wrong, my parents are still kinda weird about it. I still don’t really use any of my powers at home because I just don’t think I’m ready. But the other day I used intangibility to get a cup out of the cabinet instead of just opening the cabinet door, and my mom didn’t even say anything. I remember back when I first got my powers and I couldn't figure out how to work them. I spent so long trying to hide any weirdness, and to think that now I can just do stuff and nobody cares.” A blissful smile dressed Danny’s lips. “It’s just nice, is all.”

“I bet,” Sarah said. “Must be a huge weight off your shoulders. And your sister’s okay with it?”

“Oh yeah. My sister actually already knew about it.”

“You’re kidding. Really?”

Danny threw the stick again. “Yeah, but I already knew about that. She told me a few months ago. But she’s been really helpful at home with trying to get everyone on the same page.”

“That’s good.”

“And my dad’s already been begging to take me out to the field with him.”

“Have you taken him up on it?”

“No. Not yet.”

Sarah peered cautiously over to him. “Why not?”

“I dunno.” Danny’s eyes tracked Atlas’ triumphant return from the woods. “It just seems a bit weird still. And besides, it would be kinda odd if my parents went from trying to kill me to suddenly Phantom’s new best friend overnight. For now they’ve agreed to a public truce.”

Ah yes, the truce. That had been all over the news when the Fenton’s announced it, citing new research into ghost psychology that showed instances of benevolent ghosts. The news had rocked the city, some calling the duo crazy, while others praising them for their growth.

Even though Phantom and the Fenton couple were still in the growing pains of their new truce, no one could deny how much more smoothly ghost fights had gotten since it began. There was less property damage, less citizen’s hurt, and overall the process seemed far more professional than it ever had.

“I’ve noticed a change,” Sarah said. “I really think it’s for the best.”

“So do I. Even though it’s still kinda weird.”

“It’ll get easier, just give it time.”

Atlas dropped the stick, apparently distracted by some scent on a bush. He stopped to sniff the plant before wandering behind it, his nose glued to the ground.

“Wait, Atlas—” Danny started, watching as Atlas disappeared into the foliage.

Hearing his name, the dog leapt back onto the trail and over to Danny, who paused to scratch him behind his ear. “Good boy.”

Sarah grinned down at the duo.

Who knew a cadaver dog and a half dead kid could make such a good pair?

---

Thanks for reading!

[ask-the-riders]

Let's see... so far, Death's recruited:

A former member of Nightmare's team/a former AU destroyer in training that's assisted in the complete annihilation of numerous AUs, who would then also be at least partially responsible for the countless lives that were lost at those times

A former cultist who managed to successfully summon him at the cost of at least a dozen other people's lives (with the help of somebody she probably should not have turned to), who then went on to bear his child and bring that spawn into the world

A former pirate who's probably notorious when it comes to being a thief, and who also may or may not have a drinking problem. And think about it; she's probably also killed before, too

A homicidal maniac big ol' fruitloop who lost his marbles and was way too enthusiastic about killing and eating humans, who also murdered one of his own brothers

A former doctor and scientist who ended up infecting (and probably unintentionally killing) a lot of the people he was trying to help cure after he was promoted to his current position

A former prince with anger management issues and borderline separation anxiety, whose job is to commit murder just about every single day

As you can see, there's definitely nothing questionable about his judgement. Nope. Absolutely not. He couldn't have picked better teammates

And that doesn't even pertain to what kinda people he's romantically drawn to, either (*coughs* Error and Geno)

[shreyamistry]

write the fruitloops fic for choicesaholic, dumbass

Pairing: Adrian x Jax

Title: Sugar High

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Adrian tries to convince Jax that Froot Loops are delicious and the superior breakfast food. Jax remains unconvinced… but for how long?

A/N: I actually wrote it lmao. Man who woulda thought I’d follow through. Requests are open, find my masterlist in bio which includes a link to my rules page for requests! Thanks for the idea Chetav, hope it makes you laugh at the very least. Pop off in the tags, what’s your favorite cereal?

Warnings: Suggestive (No Smut But It Is Suggestive)

Tag List: @choicesaholic + @teamtomsato

Thanks for reading! I hope you like it!

Adrian sits at the dining table in his loft in RainesCorp, strumming his fingers against the table as he browses the newspaper sitting on the table. He shifts his eyes over the articles that draw his eyes, reading over the reports of a decrease in attacks around the city a pleasant smile on his lips. He lifts his spoon to his mouth taking the sweet sugary fruit flavored cereal with a satisfied smile.

“How do you eat that crap?” Jax’s voice startled him for a second causing him to drop his newspaper quickly catching it before it falls off the table. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Jax walks towards the table pressing a kiss to the top of Adrian’s head, brushing his black locks back into Adrian’s signature style using his hands.

“It makes me feel human,” Adrian replies thoughtfully, as he looks up at the vampire standing before him frowning. “Don’t give me that look, I didn’t mean it in ‘a woe is me’ light. Sometimes… it’s nice to feel human again.” Adrian fiddles with a spoon for a second enjoying another bite of his cereal as he looks back at Jax whose face crinkles in thought, mulling over his lover’s words.

Jax’s hands fall onto Adrian’s shoulders rubbing away some of the tension building in his boyfriend’s body as he leans down pressing another kiss against the top of his head in a comforting gesture. His eyes looking over Adrian’s tanned skin, letting his thumbs push against Adrian’s spine the way he likes Jax to touch him.  

After a thoughtful period of silence, Jax replies, “I get it.” Before letting the both of them fall into a happy silence, his fingers moving against all the knots in the CEO’s shoulders, digging deeply into the skin of his neck reaching the main point of tension. Adrian’s eyes fall closed giving into the moment with a sigh of relief. After a few more presses, Jax brushes his hands away from Adrian placing a kiss on his bare shoulder. Jax falls into the chair besides Adrian cringing at the cold of the chair against his bare skin. He plucks a dry cereal piece out of Adrian’s bowl of cereal inspecting it. Froot Loops, the red piece of candy cereal sits between his finger glistening with a glazed coating of sugar. Even in life, Jax found Froot Loops questionable at best. His gaze lingers on the cereal, his gaze turning to Adrian afterwards with a puppy dog smile on his lips.“This is basically just sugar, Adrian.” Jax sighs, crushing the cereal between his fingers, “You could get a contact high just being in the same room as these damn things.” Brushes the crumbs into a napkin placing it onto the table as he plucks Adrian’s glass of blood from the table taking a sip of the metallic nectar of life. “Did you come simply to poke fun at my choices of breakfast foods?” Adrian asks, quirking his eyebrow at Jax who smiles despite himself letting his eyes roll in response. He places on hand on top of Adrian’s that strums the table in an even beat giving him a reassuring squeeze. “The point is that they taste good, not that they are healthy. If we all only ate for health, we wouldn’t find simple enjoyment of eating Froot Loops at seven at night.” “You’re the only person I know who enjoys Froot Loops in the middle of the night,” Jax replies ducking his face away from Adrian before continuing, “Maybe, I enjoy your company. And the bed was getting lonely without you.” Jax replies. Adrian spoons himself another bite of his cereal enjoying the sugar treat without much mind of the look on Adrian’s face besides him. The rebel clan leader picks through the funnies in the newspaper as they fall into a comfortable silence with one another.

“Kimberly would eat Froot Loops in the middle of the night.” Adrian says in reference to his employee, smirking at Jax who ignores him the corner of his lips quirking upwards knowing Adrian was right.

Once Adrian finishes his cereal, brings his dish to sink washing it quickly before setting the dish into the drying rack. As he turns around, he finds himself wedged between Jax and the counter, Jax’s hands lazily resting on his waist holding him in place. “Hey.” Adrian smiles.

“Hey yourself.” Jax smiles back, leaning in to kiss Adrian on the lips, the kiss is quick and Jax pulls away before Adrian can give himself into it. He lets his hand move up Adrian’s abdomen, his hand exploring the CEO’s chest as the other dips low onto his thigh following the curve upwards. “You look beautiful.”

Adrian flushes pink, “Thank you.” He places both of his hands loosely on Jax’s shoulder. “Froot Loops are still the superior breakfast food.” Adrian grins, as Jax gives him a glare his hands stopping in place on his body.

“Are you still hung up on that?” Jax asks.

Adrian leans in placing a kiss onto Jax’s nose causing him to wrinkle his face in response. “Yeah, I am still ‘hung up’ on that, Jax.” Adrian can’t help the smile taking over his features as he strokes his hand down the curve of Jax’s collarbone, a shiver running through the clanless’ body. “I can’t believe you don’t enjoy the comfort of Froot Loops. Kimberly has a snack bar recipe, she made some for the office.”

“If I say I like Froot Loops can we continue where we left off?” The clanless asks, his hands still on Adrian’s body, a growing heat under his fingertips for his boyfriend as he looks him in the eyes. “Because I will pray to Froot Loops for that. I’ll even make some damn Froot Bars for you.”

“How romantic.” Adrian grins, his hands slinging around his lovers shoulders his fingertips pursuing the skin of his solid form, leaning in close so his breath is warm against Jax’s skin. Jax’s breath catches in his throat, as Adrian places a kiss onto his neck. A moan catching in his throat, as his kisses follow the curve of his neck bringing Adrian to the Clanless’ jaw. His fangs digging into the skin with rough desire biting onto Jax’s neck.

“Fuck..” Jax groans his grip tightening on Adrian’s waist. 

“I would enjoy another bowl of Froot Loops.”

“I’m sure you would,” Jax groans as Adrian’s lips brush the sensitive skin of his neck. “Maybe later.”

“Mmmm.” Adrian moans back, sucking a hicky onto Jax’s neck. His hand brushes against Jax, causing the clanless vampire to whimper in pleasure before his hands grip firmer onto Adrian’s thighs. With a quick motion, he scoops Adrian’s thighs into his hands dropping Adrian onto the counter behind them standing in between his legs as his hands tug on the ends of his hair on his neck. Jax’s eyes fall close his head leaning back enjoying the pressure of Adrian against his neck, as he quickly plucks a few pieces of Froot Loops from the box beside them careful to not raise any alarms by the crinkle of the bag. He pops the treats into his mouth, before Adrian’s kisses resume against Jax’s jaw leading towards his lips, as he slips his tongue into Jax’s mouth moaning into the kiss.

Their tongue pushes around one another’s mouths, savoring the taste of one another. With a quick flick of his tongue, Adrian pushes a few pieces of Froot Loops into Jax’s mouth. It takes the clanless a moment to register the addition of Froot Loops in the kiss, his eyes widening in surprise for a moment before ignoring his boyfriend’s subtle attempts to sway his opinion on the cereal in question he swallows the sugary treat resuming the kiss. His hands tugging on Adrian’s waist their bodies brushing against each other.

“Froot Loops aren’t so bad after all.” Jax jokes after Adrian breaks the kiss his forehead resting against Jax’s. “I could get used to them for you.” His hand resting on the nape of the CEO’s neck, brushing his thumb against the corner of Adrian’s lips. “So…. are we going to fuck?”

Adrian blushes, leaning into the touch his hand dangerously low on Jax’s stomach. “Did you know they make Froot Loop straws?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Jax smiles despite himself, pressing his lips firmly against Adrian’s enjoying the moment with his CEO boyfriend.

[mabel-but-slytherin]

Christmas Truce 2018

I know this is so very late, but like Danny I too can forget to prepare all of my Christmas gifts in time. I hope this is still on time for the Truce.

First a thank you to @monocheshaa for her wonderful gift for me, and a thank you/apology to @letswonderspirit for their patience! Based on the specific scene they asked for I think they were expecting art, but as I am a writer and cannot produce pictures with a fraction the beauty they can, you get this 3700 word fic instead. Enjoy!

Letswonderspirit asked for “Danny and Dani opening a present with Cujo inside. (If this is too specific than you can just do something with Cujo, I just really like dogs. thank you.)“

December 1st,

Danny Fenton walked through the Amity Park mall with a smile on his face for the first time in the month of December. He’d always hated the holiday spirit (spirits in general tended to haunt him or set his parents off, and Christmastime was no exception), but after being shown the Christmas Truce by Ghostwriter last year, Danny was determined to learn his lesson.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t come around to having a good holiday last year, but this time he was determined to get a head start on the season and do all the things he didn’t have the time and preparation to do. Namely, this year he wanted to be sure to get presents.

Being a first-time Christmas shopper, Danny was worried he’d have a hard time finding the time to sneak away from everyone and buy fitting gifts behind their backs. Yet it was not even 3pm on the first of the month and Danny already had half of his shopping done. New steel-toed black boots for Sam, a kit to build the first custom PDA-compatible laptop for Tucker, and most recently a memoir by the head of Harvard’s psychology department for Jazz. 

Even making time wasn’t so hard. All Danny had to do was tell his friends that he wanted to catch up on homework before the next ghost attack and they gave him pleased but dubious looks and sent him home. Once there, Danny had no problem: he was a pro at sneaking out of the house under his parents’ noses. Slip one small hint of a Santa sighting at the mall two towns over and Maddie was dashing to her bazooka awhile Jack ran for his Fenton™ Wish List.

Speaking of lists, Danny pulled out his list of people left to shop for and crossed Jazz’s name off. Looking down he knocked off Mom and Dad while he was at it. Mom did most of the family shopping and would definitely prefer something home-made and deadlier than what he could buy at 16 years old, so he’d just spend some time in the lab putting together some gadget throughout the month. Dad was probably the easiest of all: he’d pulled his mom aside last week while he helped serve Thanksgiving dinner and asked if they could work together to make double fudge this year. The squeal and hug his mom gave was almost another gift itself.

That just left some of his other classmates, and honestly, although Danny was trying to make up for years of missing the Christmas spirit even he admitted they were probably optional. Dash definitely wasn’t getting anything from Fenton, as the only thing Danny could think he’d like is 20 minutes to wail on Fenturd with no chance of Lancer catching him (and telling him to save his arm strength for the big game Friday).

Sam told Danny that under no circumstances should he buy a present for Paulina, but Danny couldn’t help himself, and felt pretty proud to have found a Danny Phantom compact mirror in the makeup section of the mall and then transformed briefly in the changing room to autograph it in green sharpie. (He later told Sam he found the present while looking in the make-up section for an eyeliner for Sam’s Goth look. He still doesn’t understand why Sam tested her new steel toes on his shins when he told her his first thought was that Paulina would love it.)

And of course getting a gift for Paulina meant he had to pull something together for at least a couple other people or else risk coming across as creepy. Star just needed something fashionable and shiny, and given that Danny knew nothing about fashion he just went for shiny earrings and hoped she wouldn’t hit him. He probably didn’t need to get anything for Wes, but let’s just say a whole day walking through Amity Park mall revealed so many potential gag t-shirts that Danny couldn’t resist.

Valerie would be both the easiest and hardest to shop for. She was extremely practical ever since her dad lost her job, and would happily accept any homecooked treat or mall store gift card, but Danny also wanted to give her something more meaningful without being frivolous. Danny wanted to give her a box of tree-shaped sugar cookies and a matching Christmas tree sweater, but when the ecto-oven brought the cookies to life and Danny took them out with the closed Fenton™ pistol, the teen settled for giving her the sweater and the pistol instead.

A bead of sweat ran down Danny’s face as he imagined what her reaction would be to that…

With all the humans crossed off his list, Danny was ready to call it a day. Over a year of being a halfa had taught him better than to guess at ghost traditions, so his plan was to fly over to Ghostwriter’s next week to ask for advice on presents for the Truce before the scribe was too deep into the holiday rush. There were a bunch of things Danny wanted to ask, from prospective gifts to whether he should be getting something for just his allies or his nemeses, and how a good hit or faux pas might impact his survival in the coming year. No matter what, Danny had already swore he would take a hard pass on getting a gift for Vlad. Half-ghost he may be, that man was a full-blooded fruitloop and would inevitably read way into anything from Danny.

The young hero already started to fold the list to put in his pocket when his eyes froze on one last name scrawled at the bottom of his list with a question mark. It was no question that Danny cared about the last name and wanted to give her a nice Christmas, the only question was whether she would be there to receive it.

After all, Dani had stopped by every couple of months ever since she was stabilized and free to travel the world, but it was purposefully near-impossible to contact the young girl on the run, and Danny had no clue if she even knew of the holiday. Even if she did, there was the question of whether she would come visit him or celebrate abroad.

Either way, it was Dani’s first Christmas and she was Danny’s clone, which meant it was Danny’s responsibility to find her the perfect present just in case she stopped by, right? Well, ghost etiquette was one thing, but Danny had no idea who to ask on clone etiquette so as the older clone/brother in this situation he was going to call himself the expert and go with that. 

That just left one major problem: what could a sixteen-year-old teenager from the Midwest who already burned half his allowance on other presents get for a half-ghost pickpocket whose already flown halfway around the world?

Two laps around the mall later and Danny was still stumped. Flashy clothes from most of the girly stores were flimsy and would only make her stand out. Anything bigger than a bag was too bulky to carry, any electronic device Danny would have to make sure she could use and charge it, and also pray there was no tracking to put her on someone’s radar. Money or gift cards was impractical and would probably look to her like a moral lecture, and while Danny briefly considered a souvenir from Amity Park as a good gag, the teen was embarrassed by how they probably paled in comparison to all the ones she’s probably seen.

Danny sighed and just decided to make his way home. The homework/mall Santa distractions would only buy him so much time and he still had a few weeks to finalize ideas, so there was no need to rush.

A piercing scream burst out throughout the mall and the cry of “GHOST!” made Danny groan and wonder where he could possibly stash his latest purchases before the next fight, as he highly doubted the Truce extended all the way to early bird shopping. Then a bark followed and Danny gave a sigh of relief. “Cujo! Get out of there!”

Maybe there wouldn’t be a fight after all.

December 24th,

Danny had been wondering how far the Christmas Truce stretched. Apparently, the answer was not until the stroke of midnight Christmas Day.

Or at least that’s what Skulker thought, coming after Danny shouting that his pelt would make such a nice gift to Ember that she’d have to accept his proposal. Danny wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, and was currently trying to either wrestle him into the Thermos or run out the clock.

Of course, Danny also didn’t want to risk getting on the bad side of the entire Ghost Zone by violating the Truce and continuing to fight on Christmas morning. Skulker had the advantage of a mechanical exoskeleton featuring a timepiece, but Danny had to try to keep him somewhere that he had a view of the Amity Times clocktower.

That and the desire to minimize property damage on Christmas Eve left Danny stuck in the wide open space of the park. Which makes hiding and dodging Skulker’s myriad of bombs and nets a challenge.

“Seriously Skulker, you haven’t been able to catch me in over two years! Did you really think you would be able to capture me in under an hour?” Danny taunted as he evaded yet another cannon blast that expanded into a taser net shortly after passing over his shoulder.

“Quiet, welp! The best hunter knows how to claim victory under pressure!”

Danny paused before firing an ectoblast at Skulkers torso. “I thought the saying was ‘a great hunter knows how to bide his time…’”

“…And seize an opportunity.” Skulker finished as he took advantage of Danny’s distraction to pull out a small pistol and shoot the Fenton thermos out of his left hand. Danny cursed and rubbed his burnt hand as he watched the thermos fly halfway across the park.

“Yes, I quite like the saying.” Skulker continued. “Speaking of like, I also must admit I am enjoying this new pistol! You see, Ember and I have started this family tradition where we open one small present each on Christmas Eve, and I just happened to get this little thing. I can’t wait until tomorrow to open the other present under the tree, it’s shaped like a blaster and bigger than the tree itself!”

Danny shivered. “Okay, first off, I guess that explains the sudden Christmas Eve manhunt. Second, please never talk to me about you and Ember’s ‘family traditions’ ever again. Already imagined one messed up ghost couple future, don’t need another one.

“Third,” Danny said as he glanced between where his thermos went flying and Skulker preparing another round from the net launcher, “I don’t really want to be Christmas dinner. Let’s go back to the original plan of Christmas duck-duck-goose!”

Danny made a break in the direction of the thermos, then banked into a sharp curve as Skulker fired the net right behind him. The net again sailed past him as Skulker fell for the feint and carried on in the direction of the open field near the thermos.

Until a small green blur dashed across the grass towards where the thermos was lying.

Recognizing the ghostly green glow but too far to see the shape, Danny could only wonder either who would show up in the human world this close to Christmas Day or when Skulker got a hunting partner.

The figure’s identity was made apparent when it finished trotting over to the thermos, picked it up in its mouth, and let out a happy bark.

“Cujo!” Danny called. The small ghost dog wagged his tail and looked over in Danny’s direction.

“Oh wow, you must want to play fetch. Good boy, Cujo, bring the thermos over here!” Danny turned his spectral tail back into human (ghostly?) legs and patted them to further call Cujo over. The dog started trotting happily until it yelped as a third net flew by and tangled it in the grass.

“Phantom has a puppy?” Skulker wondered aloud. “And one that is fearless in the face of battle? You will make the finest gift to Ember this holiday! She will cement you as one of her cutest fans and I will train you into the Ghost Zone’s Greatest Hunting Dog! Skulker shouted as he flew over towards Cujo.

Cujo just ignored Skulker and started trying to drag the net towards where Danny was running to him. Skulker shook his head at the sight and reached towards his controls for the taser net. “First, to teach you some obedience.”

As soon as he turned the dial to its lowest setting, the net turned on and started to zap Cujo lightly. This caused the dog to yelp, and then grow angry.

And then to just grow.

Within seconds, Cujo stood tall in his full, monstrous height. The net snapped off of the dog now twice its size, and the freed prey turned his eyes directly onto Skulker.

“Oh no.” The hunter muttered.

Cujo charged towards Skulker as the mechanical ghost tried to fly away, and managed to close the distance in time to grab on to one of Skulker’s jet boots and pull it off like a 20-foot puppy stealing a stranger’s shoe. The ghost dog had just finished shaking the lone boot and turned to the sky to growl and the figure trying to balance with one-sided rocket propulsion when the clocktower struck midnight.

In a flash, Cujo shrunk back down to his puppy size and panted up at Skulker, tossing the boot around for a second before lying down and gnawing it like the advanced ghostly technology was his latest chew toy.

Skulker, realizing it was safe to land, crashed back down to the grass and tried to approach Cujo to retrieve his boot. Cujo remained in puppy form, but instantly grabbed the shoe and backed away, growling menacingly that the shoe was his.

“Oh, come now!” Skulker shouted. “It’s Christmas.”

“And that is his toy your trying to take, Grinch.” Danny smiled as he walked over and scratched Cujo behind the ears. Seeing Skulker’s frown, Danny sighed and slowly pulled the metal boot out of Cujo’s mouth before throwing the thermos to distract him. The dog happily ran after the thermos, leaving Danny to shake the pool of saliva off the boot before handing it back to Skulker.

“Just this once, because it’s Christmas.” Danny said.

Skulker grabbed the boot and shoved it on his foot before grimacing and the squelching sound it made. “Ugh. Fine, I accept your gift and will be prepared to make an honorable exchange for this gift at the Truce this evening. Merry Christmas, Whel- I mean, Danny.”

Danny smiled. “You’re welcome Skulker.” The teen nodded before grimacing himself. “Wait… gift exchange… Danny… I totally forgot to get a present for Dani!”

Skulker tilted his head. “You exchange presents between your two halves? That is… an odd halfa tradition I was not aware of.”

“No!” Danny shouted. “Not for me, other Dani! Man, I was planning on getting her something all month, but time totally flies.”

Danny turned around to see that Skulker had already flew back towards FentonWorks and the Ghost Portal while his back was turned. “Guess that’s not the only thing that flew by. And I gotta fly home myself.”

“Woof!” Danny looked down to see Cujo triumphantly wagging his tail over the Fenton Thermos lying at Danny’s feet. Looking around and seeing no other ghosts to take him back to the Ghost Zone, Danny scooped the little dog into his arms and start flying back towards home.

“You travel all over the place, Cujo, maybe you can help me? What present can I get for my clone/cousin who’s been all around the world and just grabs whatever she wants?”

December 25th,

Danny woke up the next morning to see a pair of nearly identical blue eyes perched over him, shining with a burst of holiday joy that Danny himself had never felt until this month.

“Good morning, Danny!” Dani cried out, “Guess what day it is?!”

“I don’t know,” Danny bit out teasingly as he laughed at her excitement, “Christmas?”

“Yeah!” Dani shouted, causing her original to just laugh at her even more. “Hey, I have a right to be excited, this is my first one!”

Danny just smiled. “In a way, this is my first one too.

“I’m glad you’re here and all, but what are you doing in my room?” Danny asked his clone.

Dani shrugged. “Well, everywhere I’ve been people are saying Christmas is time to spend with your family. And given that the rest of my family doesn’t know I exist, I can’t really go downstairs.”

Danny frowned at that, before seeing the matching expression on his younger clone’s face and realizing that his job for today is to make her smile. “I guess that just means we have to do the present exchange up here then before Mom and Dad wake up, and you can hang around the rest of the day invisibly. Let me go get Jazz so she can join us.”

That worked, and Dani’s face stretched into a grin for a moment before she paused. “Wait,” Dani said, “present exchange?”

At Danny’s nod she groaned. “Oh no! I forgot to get you guys anything!”

To her surprise, Danny just laughed. “Don’t sweat it!” He consoled her, “this is actually the first year I’ve been able to get everyone a present. We’ll just have you open your presents, and then you can tell Jazz and I all the cool stories about places you’ve been!”

Dani smiled again at this, missing Danny reaching under his bed to grab her present box before he slipped out the door to wake Jazz. He had just a couple finishing touches to put on her gift before he returned.

The three teens sat tightly together on Danny’s bed as both Fentons passed their wrapped presents over to Dani.

“Oooh, ooh, open mine first!” Jazz exclaimed, still able to get childishly excited about every holiday.

Dani obliged and started ripping the tape off of the elaborately wrapped package, before watching Jazz wince at the destruction of her wrapping perfection and attempting to pry to tape open without damaging the paper. A second later had the young clone groaning in frustration before slapping her head and phasing the paper right off.

Once the paper was gone, Dani awed over the beautiful ribbon in her hand. It perfectly matched the one Jazz wore in her hair with the exception of its dark red color that was the exact shade of Dani’s sweatshirt. Dani held it up to her hair and giggled and Jazz leaned across her lap to tie it, the young clone’s arms reaching out to pull Jazz into a hug when the older girl was done.

“Thank you so much Jazz! I love it!” Dani squealed as she squeezed tighter.

“You’re welcome!” Jazz replied. “I’m so glad you love it! I figured it would fit under your hood when you wanted to hide away somewhere, and that no matter where you are in this world or the Ghost Zone, we’ll match!”

Dani reached up to feel the ribbon and her grin stretched even wider. “I’ll just have to figure out a way to get it to stay on in my ghost form.”

Jazz smiled, and then let her expression shift into a smirk. “Or… you could just wear this one.” She said coyly, reaching into her pajama pocket to pull out another ribbon, this one ghostly green.

The two girls squealed and hugged yet again, and Danny hoped his gift would be just as well received. “Well Dani,” he said, passing over a wrapped box. 

“Here’s your gift from me. I would just untie the bow and open the box rather than phase it out.”

Dani took that as permission to rip right into it and within seconds was raising the lid and getting ready to look inside. She was interrupted by a small yip.

“Danny!” Jazz shouted, aghast. “There were no air holes on there!”

Danny smirked, “Her gift doesn’t need it.”

Dani froze as she looked down into the box, further deepening Jazz’s puzzled expression. A second later Dani reached both hands into the box and pulled out a playfully panting Cujo.

“Oh my god Danny, this is amazing!”

“His name’s Cujo,” Danny told his clone as she cuddled Cujo up to her face and laughed when Cujo licked her. “He’s run through Amity Park a couple of times looking to play, but is always just going from place to place. I figured with each other you both might be less lonely.”

Cujo seemed to take that cue to look up and down Danielle, see the big red bow tied in her hair, and happily bark like he had just received his own half-human for Christmas.

Dani smiled so wide she nearly cried and had to place Cujo on the floor in order to make room for the giant hug she gave her clone/cousin. Cujo of course objected to the sudden lack of warmth and made it known by growing to his full size, prompting Dani to shout “Awesome!” and hug Danny even harder.

Danny just grinned and basked in Dani’s happiness. Yeah, sometimes the only thing to give someone who has the world is someone to share it with, and he was so glad that the two looked like they would be happy together.

They were so happy, that that very afternoon the Red Huntress came out chasing complaints of a giant green ghost dog roaming Amity Park, hoping to finally get revenge on the ghost boy for ruining her life. She was stunned to instead find Danielle riding in the ghost dog’s fur, laughing and hollering and shouting that this was the best Christmas ever. 

For once in her career Valerie decided to let a ghost go, figuring that out of everyone, the ghost girl deserved to be happy on Christmas day. She was sure Mayor Masters would forgive her for taking a day off to spend with the her family. Even if the ghost dog pooped on his front lawn.

That was the moment Dani swore she and Cujo would be friends for life. The had a whole world to travel together, and a whole afterlifetime of Christmases to do it.

[bluerosefox]

Hhmmmm

Hmmm

Guys another DPxDC idea.

Can you imagine the unholy terror and general chaos a deaged Danny and Tim would unleash if they met?

Like say they got deaged by their creepy old man fruitloops in an attempt to make them their heirs but somehow they escape from them and both meet each other on the run.

They maybe small and with little to no memory of how they got there or where they are but they know fruitloops when they see one and thus team up to make their ways home, or at least to Gotham so Batman can help! (-Tim's idea)

Look I just want Tim being a tiny and a little feral smarty whose using that brain of his to outsmart Ra's (and Vlad) and he knows he's not meant to be tiny but his memories are foggy. And I want Danny feral vibing back, finds out he gets powers, and wants to kick the fruitloop that keeps talking mean about his dad and making kissy faces at pictures of his mom butt and also kick the other creepy old man too whose after his new best friend.

Also, I wanna see them hold hands as they run away together. (As a League base is on fire in the background)

[markedasinfernal]

You mentioned that suggestions were welcome, and there are a coup;e things I'd love to see you tackle if you ever have the time or motivation. One would be Tar-Mairon in Numenor. I'd love to see you bring his days with those fruitloops to life. But more than that the reunion of Mairon and Morgoth and the maelstrom that Dagor Dagorath would be fantastic. I'd love to see how an older, wiser, Mairon whose had time to reflect on his days with Melkor would welcome him back. Thanks.

Suggestions of things that people would like to see me write are always welcome - I file them away and maybe one of them sticks like a little idea-worm in my head and then fics may flow forth! Of the two periods of Arda that you propose here I would be far more inclined to write the Dagor Dagorath scenario. Indeed, some ideas for how Mairon and Melkor might interact here have been floating around for ages, and perhaps one day I’ll actually put them to paper. 

Númenor… ehhh. It’s just not a time period / setting that really inspires me - I’m not sure why. And also, there are some very good Sauron in Númenor fics out there - I don’t think I could tell much of a different story to the ones that they’ve portrayed there already, or it would just be a re-write of my Sins of our Fathers fic, but with Ar-Pharazon instead of Celebrimbor. So yeah, not likely to see much Númenor from me, but Dagor Dagorath? Hmmmm watch this space. 

(Though not very intently please, I’m taking a little break after the colossal effort that was the final AEC chapter!!)

[mommyg2013]

Growing Up and then some!

BG1 had her 4 year well visit with the pediatrician a few weeks ago. Refer height pic below. The kid is doing okay, must be all those healthy meals I cook up every day. And by ‘healthy meals I cook up everyday’, I mean the chicken nuggets that we consume, at least thrice a week. That and mac-n-cheese are food groups in my house.  Side story - I once sent in gummy bears to school for ‘healthy snack SHOW-N-TELL’. BG returned home with the bag unopened and a message from the teacher that gummy bears ARE NOT healthy snacks. HASHTAG FAIL. The ingredients at the back do say “2% guava extract”.

  Speaking of healthy, I am now onto Slimfast protein shakes. Because I Googled “How to lose 3lbs every week” and that’s what came up.  SLIMFAST. If that reeks of desperation it’s because that’s what it is – desperation. It’s what you do when you find yourself on the wrong side of FLUFFY. You guys, if this fails, then my only hope maybe the E word. And y’all know how much I love the E word.  I have sneakers from 2010 that haven’t been broken into. I also have a yoga mat, dumbbells and an exercise ball. And workout pants in several variety, because that’s me. The workout chic.

 Now, before someone from the Food & Drug Administration or Social Services or any institute whose job it is to enforce health and well-being write me off as a delinquent, let me post this ovary-weakening heart-melting picture of the girls reading together in bed. For real. 

The older kid can read – sight words. Little sentences. KIT SAW A CAT. THE CAT RAN AWAY. MAMA IS OUTRAGEOUSLY AMAZING. 

DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO HAVE YOUR OFFSPRING READ? IT MEANS CHICKEN NUGGETS AND SLIMFAST SHAKES BE DAMNED, YOU ARE DOING SOMETHING RIGHT WITH YOUR LIFE, AFTER ALL!

 The younger kid, let’s see.  Here are some of her key accomplishments in the last 12 hours:

·         She loves fruits and she also loves silverware, or plasticware in her case. It means that she spent 30 minutes trying to fork blueberries into her mouth. FORK BLUEBERRIES. When they say patience is the Mother of virtues what they mean is that patience is watching a one and half year old with partial gross motor skills insisting on eating blueberries by herself, with a FORK.  I gave up at the 6th berry and ate them myself. I do that sometimes – I eat their food to make it go down faster. Refer above paragraph on SLIMFAST.

·         She likes to hurl shit. Like pens, toys, food. Ever had a heavy plastic teapot hit your face? And NOSE BUMPS. Dear God the nose bumps. One minute I’m cajoling her out from under the couch where she found a dying fruitloop and the next minute my nose feels like it split in two from her head butt. My house is a combat zone.

·         She loves water. All kinds. Commode water. Sink water. Puddles. Toothpaste water. As in the post-brushing water around the sink that she is happy to stick her face into. GROST!!!! as my four year old would say.

Somewhere between reading, writing and fruit flinging is the realization that the girls are growing up. The older kid’s class has a year-end annual performance next month. One of the songs they’re singing is Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe”.  Only she says it as CONNIE MAYBE.

Yeah. Maybe Connie. Or Sarah. Or Rose. A nice reminder that there’s still a lot of growing up to do.

P.S. I decided to give the other adult a day off. Not even a guest mention. I was told that he’s on a Netflix detox only to uncover that he has started watching a whole new show (ALPHA HOUSE or something) - WITHOUT ME. Starting a new show without informing spouse and not asking spouse to partake in this new show watching joy and then guffawing loudly at the sad little jokes on the new show is just plain pitiful. 

[madpicks]

New Post has been published on https://www.madpicks.com/sports/nfl/hire-delete-nfl-draft-prospects-old-bad-tweets/

Hire me to delete NFL draft prospects' old and bad tweets

There are three things in life you can be sure of: Death, taxes, and old tweets from NFL prospects resurfacing the moment they’re drafted.

Let’s take quarterback Mitchell “Not Mitch” Trubisky, the Bears’ first-round pick and also the cause of at least 13,000 heart attacks in the greater Chicago area last Thursday night. As soon as the news broke, one of his old tweets popped up at the top of Twitter’s garbage sea, the place where stained opinions and smushed takes float around like rogue plastic bags. It said, “Hell yeah, Go Packers.” Another tweet in which Trubisky said he liked to kiss women’s breasts (albeit in less formal language) also started recirculating.

First of all, I would like to commend Trubisky for his usage of “hell yeah.” It is one of my favorite sayings and, in my humble opinion, a fantastic way to convey enthusiasm. As for his tweet about boobs, I offer no comment.

Secondly, I would like to ask a question: How can agents, upon signing a yet-to-be-drafted player, NOT go through their client’s tweets?

Seriously — this isn’t rocket science, folks. We all know how the internet works: nothing you say in cyberspace ever goes away unless you pour industrial strength bleach on it in the form of deleting anything even remotely damning (even then, there are way-back machines that use sorcery to screw you over and surface your removed and bad posts). I can’t understand how adults whose literal job it is to make sure these kids don’t shoot themselves in their own feet wouldn’t think to do a quick check of the old timeline.

Mitch — sorry, Mitchell — isn’t the first guy to have his forgotten tweets haunt him. My favorite old tweet-haver is Jimmy Garoppolo, who once laughed at a dude who fell off his longboard. Besides the Liquid Swords tweet, it remains the only good thing ever been posted to Twitter.

I can’t stop thinking about how negligent it is to let a guy go to the draft without combing his internet history first. Trubisky’s were fairly tame in the scheme of things. The Eagles’ Wendell Smallwood, for example, saw one of his old and bad tweets about Philly resurface after he was drafted last year. It’s reappearance actually caused him to delete his entire account (which isn’t a bad idea for anyone, but isn’t always an option in this day and self-promoting age).

That people don’t think to go through their history before entering the draft has been bothering me to the point that I feel like I personally have to do something about it.

I’m therefore thrilled to announce Wilder, Wilder, & Wilder: Tweet Liquidators at Large, a firm that will ensure potential athletes don’t have to take their feet out of their mouths before they even lace up their first pair of professional cleats (lot of foot sayings in this post, but feet help you play sports, so I’m gonna roll with it).

Here’s how my business works: For a flat rate of $1 million — and then a 5 percent cut of whatever the player goes on to make for the rest of their athletic career — I’ll go through a draft prospect’s Twitter and search a series of words. Those words will include: every other team in the league that said athlete is attempting to enter, the names of the major players in that league, all the bad words that could ruin a career, and any sex stuff.

In fact, to show you how this would work, let’s pretend for a moment I was just hired by an anti-cheese lobbying firm. If I were to hire Wilder, Wilder, & Wilder, here’s what we would do to ensure nothing embarrassing surfaces on my first day at work: we’d search “cheese.”

Here’s what we’d find:

https://twitter.com/TheWilderThings/status/838429767548403714

And:

Wow, thank god I hired myself in this hypothetical situation so I could delete these cheese tweets, because otherwise my new anti-cheese employers would be like, “Holy shit, she’s been in the pocket of Big Cheese this whole damn time!”

Speaking of cheese:

My services extend to Instagram, Facebook, MySnap, FruitLoop, and FartButt, too, but it’s my experience that Twitter is the platform most likely to come back and bite you.

As for Trubisky, he’s since deleted his Packers tweet, but not before I and my coworkers could make fun of him for it on Facebook Live. He’s also gotten rid of his tweet about what he likes to do to women’s breasts. But I took a gander at some of his remaining tweets and found these, simply by searching “Aaron Rodgers.”

Could be worse! But the fact remains that Rodgers is now his sworn and mortal enemy by nature of being a Bears quarterback. Had someone just gone through and cleaned these out, we wouldn’t have even an ounce of ammunition against Trubisky in the event that he someday starts beefing with Rodgers.

If you find some really bad stuff, that’s obviously cause for concern and something to be dealt with. But for the most part, cleaning out athletes’ past thoughts from when they were, like, two years old in 2012 is only a way to save them some minor embarrassment. And seems like the most obvious thing in the world. Would doing so be a loss for those of us who enjoy laughing at guys who laughed at guys falling off longboards? Yeah, it would. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make sense.

Anyway, this blog post is now too long so I’m going to stop writing. But the moral of the story is: Never tweet. But when you do, delete them.