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#amnesiac danny fenton
salmonight · 11 months
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DannyMay 2023, Day 9: Ghost Zone
Tittle: Door of the Lost Ones
Summary:
Doors come in many shapes. Big and small, wooden and metal, new and tattered.
There is a myth about a door that only appears to those who are destined to those who are lost, wandering without a destination. It never looks the same, always changing according to some unseen criterias, maybe to match the wanderers subconscious or maybe to simply follow the whims of a higher being.
No one knows when its tale started to circulate, no one knows who told it first, but one thing was certain those who went through the door were never seen again.
Some speculated it led to other worlds, other galaxies while some more pessimistic ones said it was just a death trap baiting in the hopeless fueling itself with the despair of the passing.
They warily whispered its name, The Door of the Lost Ones.
And anyways this fic, as many as my others is perfectly readable withcout knowing anything about either of the fandoms (its 90% DP tho)
I also drew an art before writing the fic for visualization but my hand didnt cooperate so its nothing like what i wanted so i doubled it as his young adult phantom form and not the one he used in the fic. It was mentioned he can change forms in the fic and u may witness it if i ever decide to write one or two sequels!
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shewhowillwrite · 4 months
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Dead on Main AU Prompt Fic
Edit: i use @shewhowillrise
The Justice League was choosing their head engineer. They had a few contenders. One being the top student in engineering at Gotham University, even has a scholarship through Jason Wayne’s Scholarship for Underperforming Students. Bruce Wayne has started it after adopting Jason and seeing how smart he was but also how much he struggled in school.
Daniel Fenton lived on the same street as the Monarch Theatre, the same street he found Jason.
Batman couldn’t help but think Daniel was what Jason could have been if he was able to finish school and head off too college.
Batman knocked on the apartment door, not at all surprised at how fast it opened. When setting up the meeting, he could hear the excitement over the phone.
“Hello Batman Sir!” Daniel greeted, holding out a hand. He had a strong firm grip, reminded him of Clark’s. Possibly a meta, which is a plus. With what the kid might encounter while building or making repairs, a meta gene would be good to have, especially strength.
And over the meeting Batman fell more and more in love with the kid’s enthusiasm. Without the guarantee of the job, the kid was ready to give some ideas (that would amazing) incase the League would need them.
The meeting was supposed to be an hour but soon he noticed that the sun was low.
Batman sat up straighter upon hearing a key turn in the lock.
“Oh that’s my partner, sorry, I would I have warned you but I didn’t realize the meeting was going to be this long,” Danny (only creepy billionaires call me Daniel) said, which Batman also noted that he tried his best not to blame Batman for going over the allotted time. Kid’s respectful too.
“Hey Stardust how’d the meeting I’m not supposed to know about go? I’m sure whatever words you stumbled over the Bat didn’t hold it against you for being nerv-” the disembodied voice walks into the dining room, and freezes in surprise before collecting himself, an easy smile going on his face while wiping grease stained hands on his grease stained jeans and stuck one out to shake.
“Hi, I’m Jaylad Peters,” he says but Batman doesn’t take the hand offered. He doesn’t react at all.
In front of him is his baby boy, the one that died in his arms, the one he buried in Gotham Cemetery, near Thomas and Martha. His Jason.
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starry-bi-sky · 6 months
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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of
Flesh and bones and they're all scared of
A lost little boy who has lost his heart
Fear's not enough, they have to
Tear him apart —-------
There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 
He’s adopted.
He can’t remember anything else before that.  
‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 
What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 
When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.
(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 
The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.
It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 
The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 
His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.
(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 
(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 
They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  
(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)
Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 
He turned back around and went inside.
—-------
Where do we go
When the river's running slow
Where do we run
When the cats kill one by one
—------
One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  
He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 
It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 
He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 
Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 
(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)
After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 
He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.
—------
Hazel beneath our claws
While we wait for cerulean to cry
Unsettled ticks run through time
Enough for the hunt to go awry
—-----
There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 
He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 
Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 
(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 
(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  
He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 
A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 
He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 
His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.
Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   
—-------
Harpy hare
Where have you buried all your children?
Tell me so I say
—-------
When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 
Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.
He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.
Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 
(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)
(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)
(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  
—--------------
It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders
And they will never
Hear me here listen to croons and a calling
I'll tell them all the
Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow
Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare
—-------
More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 
Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 
His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 
They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 
It is a fast dream. 
His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.
His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 
The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 
The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 
His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 
(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 
—---  
She can't keep them all safe
They will die and be afraid
Mother, tell me so I say
(Mother, tell me so I say)
—-------
When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 
The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 
(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 
(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   
Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 
(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)
—------
Seeker, do you ever come to wonder
If what you're looking for is within where you hold
Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path
You'll soon forget
Home
—---------
When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 
When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.
‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 
He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.
He ends up calling himself Phantom. 
(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 
----------
Home is where we are
Home is where you are
Home is where I am
-----------------
Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#amnesiac danyal al ghul au#songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart#musician danny has my heart and soul#yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks#implied good mom talia al ghul#danyal is a momma's boy send tweet#dpxdc ficlet#dpxdc prompts#dp x dc au#dp x dc fanfic#danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au#no beta no edits we die like danny fenton#poc danny fentons#i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense#ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later#morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it#since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous#phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe#not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him
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kittyfrisk9 · 4 months
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Idea Dp x dc - Amnesia
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't understand the idea.
...
What an unpleasant color. That was the first thought he had upon waking up in a hospital and seeing the white walls.
They told him he had amnesia due to the damage caused to his head. It wasn't that he had simply forgotten everything; he still remembered what common objects like a door or an apple were. He also knew what eating, going to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, or any other daily activity was. But he simply couldn't remember... certain things.
Like his name, important events in his life, people... He couldn't remember anyone. Not even the boy who threw himself on him, crying and apologizing, saying that all of this was his fault for being too slow.
Apparently, this boy was his boyfriend.
And he was right, because something in his chest twisted when he saw that cute boy crying. He doubted it was his heart; it was more like a kind of feeling, a sort of instinct that hated seeing that cute boy cry.
"It's okay, don't cry, it's okay, I'm fine." He hugged the other man, stroking his hair and saying sweet things to try to calm him down.
Jason Todd started crying again.
...
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't understand the idea.
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Jack and Maddie Fenton attend tons of ghost and supernatural conferences across the midwest, occasionally spreading out to the coasts or neighboring countries.
One of these times is a supernatural conference on the east coast, Gotham, New Jersey to be specific. Some of their ghost tech reacts prompting them to go hunt the ghost down.
Only to find a boy no older than their own son wandering the streets catatonic in a dirt covered suit.
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minty364 · 10 months
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DPXDC Prompt #95
He woke up knowing his name and his civilian name but nothing else about himself. Danny looked around to find himself locked in a room on what looked like a space station. When he figures out the mechanism that unlocked the door, for whatever reason it was set up for, he ventures out into the rest of the station. Danny finds out he’s not alone and there are several others that seemed to share the same problem.
They scoured the space station but the zeta tubes that one of them remembers doesn’t seem to be working and they keep finding things from these companies called Dalvco and Lexicorp. Danny only remembers hearing these names but Dalvco gives him a really bad feeling about what was going on here. For some reason the rest of the station was set up like a giant puzzle.
It would be interesting to leave all these red herrings that Vlad or Lex were the masterminds but reveal at the end it was really set up by Talia trying to get Danny to remember his time in the league or something by putting him in a stressful and unknown situation hopeful that it would cause enough distress that Danny would remember.
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dafry-shenanigans · 23 days
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I keep hearing...
Pieces of a melody playing in my head,
Fragments of the past that it won't let me forget.
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Someone that i used to be hanging on a thread-
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A blurry silhouette,
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I wonder...
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When you look at me, who do you remember?
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Broken memories, time we spent together.
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Tell me honestly-
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-Do you-
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-Recognise-
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-My voice? Voice.
TIS I, I HAVE FINALLY RETURNED TO FEED MY SECRET TRIO FANS, ENJOY THE SONG COMIC BASED FROM THIS vvv
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I've always wanted to do amnesiac Randy/post ninja era ever since that fic i found- NOW AFTER YEARS AT LAST IT HAPPENED
And with a sprinkle of secret trio angst cause tbh they probably hang out and first met while being heros so most of their friendship would be forgotten since it's tied to his ninja era-
Shame i only have limited space in my notebook left- 🫠 and any paper/drawing books are already filling up and sbsmskaiywhslsiqjajnxkq-
Considered to make it digital, but it would take a ridiculous amount of time and just be a hassle-
And also tragic that i don't know how to edit videos, cause if i could, i would format this as a short animatic... 😔
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castrianamore · 1 year
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You Can’t Teach an Old God New Tricks
DC x DP crossover
Danny didn’t have a lot to his name. He arrived in Gotham 2 years ago lost and confused. He knew he was a king. He knew he was a half a, and he knew that he ruled all of the infinite realms. But the harsh realities of Gotham also kept him on his toes as he tries to ignore his past. Nothing from before the age of 14 but electricity down his spine, A sister whom he loved, and an apparent complaint of his newfound lack of Empathy because of it.
Danny had avoided the infamous Bats for too long but as the ghosts start to delve into the world once more moaning for the Phantom, and a family edging on being a gang. He finds himself far too close to the vigillante’s and Batman than he really wants to find himself.
And as his world collapses in on itself, maybe he needs someone to catch him for once. Someone he never expected.
*My second official Batfam fic!!! Link for ao3 below and first chapter
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shewhowillrise · 4 months
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I wrote a whole fic but tumblr deleted it so here’s bare bones bc I’m on verge of break down
Amnesiac Mechanic Jason Todd goes by Jaylad Peters (doesn’t have a SSN so has to do under the table paycheck) is dating engineer degree Danny Fenton who’s at the top of his class at Gotham U (on the Jason Wayne’s Scholarship for Underperforming Students - a scholarship started when Bruce say how smart his son was but struggled in school. Low high school grades doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be college eligible)
Batman meets Danny because he’s top of his class to possibly be part of the team to build the watch tower.
Near the end of the meeting Jaylad walks in.
EDIT
I POST IT TO THE WRONG FUCKING BLOG
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salmonight · 11 months
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Whispers of the Forgotten series idea art
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Drew this while brainstorming for my newset oneshot. IT did not end up as what i wanted but i may use it for visualizations if i decide to write one or two sequels for it.
Series link here. It only has two oneshots in it so far but we will see if i get any inspiration for writing in the coming days
Prepare for my usual cryptidness. I just love begin crytid as fuck. I even periodically confuse my own beta too *mischevious cackle*
Oh yea almost forgot lineart:
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
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okay a few more danyal al ghul au memes because i think they're funny to make. with bonus yaelokre danyal memes!
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yaelokre! danyal 🤝 threes! danyal: being five years older than damian
yaelokre danyal comes from my oneshot right here. however, i would frankly recommend reading the version i put on ao3 because it's been edited and includes more content! shout out to my boy, he's got amnesia </3
Do i think that the LOA has technology in it? Absolutely I do. LED lights but in 3000k warm white instead of the jarring bright sterile white, if they've got glass windows they're those solar panel glass panes my college natural science building uses that detects sunlight position, which in term controls the lights, which in turn saves energy. Amber lights for outside, solar panels. Just. anything environmentally sound and friendly, they've got it, they use it.
Do i think they've got computers and tvs lying around for casual recreational use? ....that i'm not so sure about. For this au? I'm gonna say nooooottt really. That stuff is typically reserved for like, mission planning, debriefing, research, etc. Frankly danny probably does know how to use a computer, however i thought it was funny if he didn't. so the meme is staying in lmao.
If they're not training, they've probably like, got a greenhouse or two somewhere on base they can help with. The LoA's whole thing is balance, harmony, restoring the natural world with extreme environmentalism. All that jazz. Probably plenty of ponds, recreational areas outside, gardens, just, stuff to do that's not technology based. My most basic understanding is that these people are the world's deadliest hippies. They can't be training all the time, that's neither good for morale nor for their bodies, so when they're not training... they're off doing shit. If Ras has kept this thing running for thousands of years then it’s gotta be pretty lit enough that nobody’s revolted lmao.
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demonic0angel · 1 year
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Story Idea (click for clarity)
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In which amnesiac Danny Phantom, Robin, and Jasmine Fenton are invited to a mysterious game from another world, complete with other inhuman and monstrous participants. The three of them, upon finding that they’re the most normal looking ones there, join hands and decide to make sure they all get through the game alive. The reward for winning?
A wish of theirs gets granted and they’re able to return to the living realm.
(No, I am not writing this. However, I will be drawing some pictures for this idea so stay tuned!)
(Edit: I lied. I wrote it.)
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Dc x Dp prompt? idea? story? whatever: Ghost Library
the ship is danny x jason (dead on main) but it could work as jazz x jason (anger management)
old dusty corners of a public library are considered some of the most liminal places that exist, they become even more liminal based on how old they are and how thin the veil(how liminal) is in the city/town it is located in.
Gotham city and Amity park happen to be extremely liminal places.
so when (insert your preferd age)-year old jason todd goes in gotham’s public library to hide from his criminal dad and drugged up mom and indulge in his love of literature, he decides to go into the furthest corner of library, a corner that the librarian never checks.
In the Amity park public library where n-year old danny fenton hid from his bullies/parents (or he was dragged there by his sister) he decides to find a book about stars and then hide in the most secluded corner of library to avoid people as much as he can.
both boys being in doubly extreme liminal spaces, as they try to leave find themselves in strange library that they have never seen before, they end up bumping into each other and become fast friends bonding over their family situations and their love for their chosen hobbies.
they wander around this strange library for unknown amount of time, hours?days?weeks? they don’t know, but as they explore and fight against sentient books, going into stories and experiencing different lives, their bond gets stonger.
until one day? a floating figure appears before them( the librarian? ghostwriter?), telling them they shouldn’t be here and sends them back to their respective libraries. the boys find out they had only been gone for an hour or so (or any amount of time you prefer).
they go back to library the next day and manage to go into the strange library again and this time they learn how to get out too. and they keep meeting up day after day after day.
until some time (years?) later jason starts going less and less, and then he suddenly stops never appearing again.
danny is devastated, and keeps going and searching in the Other library in hopes of finding jason, but after his accident he too stops going to the library.
it is only years later that a resurrected jason goes into the library to look for danny but despite looking for a long while he doesn’t find him.
its only when danny moves to gotham for college/work that they finally reunite.
could also have amnesiac!jason both are good.
please add to this i would love to see what you add
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Revenant!Jazz ideas:
Continuing from this DPxDC prompt of mine, I’ve had some more thoughts about Jasmine Fenton and Revenants, especially where it concerns DC lore and Jason Todd in particular.
———————-
In my original post, @starlightcat04 asked whether or not Jazz’s eyes would glow toxic green too. I propose that, no, they wouldn’t.
While it’s a common head canon that Ectoplasm is heavily influenced by emotions, Jazz’s Ecto-contamination is bone deep and pure, unlike Jason’s. So no, I don’t believe her eyes would glow green.
They turn from the teal she had in life to a smoldering green that reflects light just like a feline, with a heavily damaged sclera that is perceived as black in low lighting, with ash grey veins spreading from her eye sockets down to her jaw like tears.
Her once bright hair turns from a lively orange-ish red to the color of cooling embers.
That which caused her death, a punctured artery is half-way healed by the time Jazz reanimates in the crematorium, so not only is she supposed to be dead still, she also has to be very careful with her movements otherwise she could very well bleed out again before she is fully healed.
What else changes with Revenant!Jazz?
In exchange for a higher mental processing and the high damage absorption of Revenants, Jazz loses most (almost all) of her memories of her life. What she does remember is thankfully not her death, but rather Danny’s, his death scream and ghostly wail overlap in her mind, at times causing severe headaches and nausea.
(According to his wiki page, Jason spent a year in a coma and as an amnesiac vagrant, therefore it’s not entirely without precedent that Jazz wouldn’t keep hers.)
Her Ecto-contamination has to factor in a lot though.
Jason was revived by Superboy-Prime’s Reality Shattering Punch. Jazz was reanimated by her own willpower, aided by Ecto to allow her body to heal and regress the stages of rigor mortis.
———//:///////———-
What does Jazz need to accomplish as a Revenant?
In the original prompt I wrote that Jazz returned to keep Danny safe- broad enough for a prompt, but what exactly does “safe” for a halfa entail?
Let’s list the major threats to Danny’s health, beginning with the obvious: the Ghost Investigation Ward and The Fenton Parents.
The Fentons are capable of tracking Phantom by his Ecto-signature, creating and having created weaponry specifically designed to target the ghost in question, to which they pass that tech on to the GIW.
If Danny remains in Gotham, the ambient Ecto will scramble the tech over enough of a distance, but if Danny were in a line up of three people right next to a GIW agent he’d be clocked almost immediately.
So, the Fentons and the GIW have to go. How does this happen?
The greatest irony I could possibly inflict on these anti-ghosters- becoming ghosts themselves. I won’t go into detail about what my brain jumped to when I thought about that outcome, but let’s just say it was pretty dark.
(And karmically well-deserved.)
#3 on the list depends on where Danny is when Jazz is finished with numbers 1 & 2 on her list.
If Danny is is Gotham and staying there for the long haul, then I believe this girl would take one look at Batman’s rogue gallery and nope them so hard everyone in Gotham gets the sense of their world about to be rocked, but the ones she gunning for the most?
(Joker, Bane, Manbat, Firefly, Madhatter, Riddler…)
They get the sensation that someone just walked over their non-existent graves.
(I got a little gleeful demented imagining Jazz just straight up ripping Manbat’s wings clean off, burning Firefly alive and throwing a detoxed Bane into a crowd of vengeful Gothamites.)
(Jazz learns that Joker killed a young hero with a crowbar and a bomb. She’s fully onboard with turnabout being fair play when it comes to that Pennywise reject.)
(I can’t even begin to list every rogue Jazz cuts down, it she doesn’t kill all of them, just most of their number.)
(Gotham celebrates for weeks.)
(I’m not sure whether or not Jazz kills the four mentioned previously in a couple of nights, one night or over a a few months, but it doesn’t take as long as one might think.)
/://:///////:::/::::///////
What’s next for Revenant!Jazz?
I’m still writing The Regent series, so I doubt I’ll come back to this for a while, but I’ll still be posting ideas and whatnot about Revenant!Jazz. There’s still plenty to explore here, and I have a pretty angst/bittersweet ending for Jazz in mind I want to talk about later.
If you have any ideas to add, please feel free to comment! If anyone does write this, please let me know so I can read it!
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lexosaurus · 10 months
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The Fog Around Us: Chapter 1
Hello all here's my second fic for the @ecto-implosion! This one with @nightwanderers12081 who did AN INCREDIBLE PIECE OF ART LOOK AT IT!
Please enjoy my accompanying fic!
read on: [ao3]
[see all chapters]
Characters: Danny Fenton, Valerie Gray Tags: Amnesiac Danny Fenton, Enemies to Friends WC: 4476 Summary: Two weeks had passed since Danny Fenton went missing. Two weeks had passed since Phantom had disappeared as well. It couldn't be coincidence.
****
“He can't have gotten far.”
Those were the words Valerie had heard the first day the missing child report had been filed. The first day Danny didn't show up to school.
“You kidding, Fenton?” Dash said, emphasizing Danny's name with the sort of disbelief one would say about a toddler training for the Olympics. “No—no way! He's so annoying, I bet whoever nabbed him will get so pissed at his loser squeaky voice that they'll toss him right out of their truck. They probably didn't even get him out of the city!”
“No way he's gotten far,” Kwan agreed.
The next day in homeroom, it had come from Sam. She hadn't been in school the previous day. Well, she had at first, but after the whispers started going around and the police showed up at the school, she and Tucker had been pulled to the main office all too quickly.
“He can't have gone far,” she whispered to Tucker, who was wringing his red cap around in his fingers. “It's Danny we're talking about. He's probably—you know. He's fine.”
Tucker was silent for a moment. To an outsider, it would look like he simply had nothing to say. But Valerie knew better. She could see how his jaw twitched, just barely suppressing whatever words were swimming around in his mind. It was only after his muscles relaxed that he finally spoke, his voice so quiet that Valerie almost didn't pick up what he said. “I know you want to think that, but Danny wouldn't...do this. He wouldn't slip away without telling us first.”
Whatever temper Tucker swallowed, Sam had no problem spitting out. “You don't know that. You know how he gets!”
“I do know, Sam. There's no way—”
“This is the same guy who—” Sam stuttered, then lowered her voice, hissing something too softly for Valerie to hear.
Tucker's reaction was telling, though. He sighed, not sharply, but still showcasing his frustrations all the same. “This is different. Come on, you know that.”
“I don't want to hear it,” Sam snapped. “He's fine, Tuck.”
And that was that.
Valerie could almost believe them. And god, she yearned to believe them with a fortitude that nearly crushed her heart, but on the third day, she made the mistake of passing by the teacher's lounge.
In an instant, she was plunged back into this new ice-cold reality.
“His parents suspect ghosts,” came the gruff voice of Ms. Tetslaff. “And you know, as wacko as they are, this time? Yeah, I might believe them.”
“It's not too far-fetched. You know that the CPS investigation came up clean. Especially after speaking to Ms. Jasmine Fenton directly, nothing came up that was particularly worrisome from their house. They seem like a good family, albeit a bit to the left. It feels unlikely that any of this could have stemmed from within the home,” Mr. Lancer said.
CPS investigated their house? Valerie thought back, but she didn't remember Danny ever mentioning it. So, why? Why had CPS gone?
“And you know how Mr. Fenton gets whenever a ghost gets near,” Mr. Lancer continued. 
“Oh yeah, he's a jumpy one,” Ms. Tetslaff agreed. “Always the first one out of the class.”
“And the last one back, sporting some sort of bruise,” came the voice of the old history teacher. What was her name, Mrs. Sawyer?
No, her name didn’t matter right now. What, with this information piercing every wall around Valerie's mind.
Danny was...getting hurt? And she hadn't noticed?
But she didn't have long to process this before Mr. Falluca took his chance to interject. “Didn't I tell you? After that whole CPS debacle? I told you all it was ghost related. I told you that the parents are weird, but Danny was always getting hurt around a ghost attack or on his way to school.”
He was what?
Why hadn't Valerie seen anything? Or heard anything?
“And I agreed if you'll recall,” Mr. Lancer said.
“I wouldn't be surprised if a ghost kidnapped him this time,” Mr. Falluca said.
“To get to his parents, most likely. The weekly harassment wasn't getting anywhere, so they had to escalate,” Mr. Lancer concluded.
“Poor kid,” Ms. Tetslaff murmured.
“Indeed. And if that's truly the case, then who knows how far they've gone. They're ghosts, after all.”
But Valerie was through listening to the teacher's gossip. She backed from the door, stumbled over her feet, and bolted around the corner, nearly slamming into some upperclassmen as she did.
No...no way....Danny? Her Danny?
She'd broken up with him so he wouldn't get hurt, hadn't she? She'd predicted this. Ghosts were ruthless and vengeful and ugh, she had let him go to prevent this from happening!
And yet!
And yet...
She skidded to a stop, her heart thundering in her ears. Around her, the hallway bled Casper High red, posters about kindness and unity hung haphazardly over the walls, and the ever-long fractals of lockers wove spiderwebs around her vision.
And yet, he'd been hurt anyway. No, it was worse than that. He'd been hurting the whole time, and she hadn't known. He'd...never told her.
But why would he? It wasn't like he knew that she was the Red Huntress. Maybe if she'd revealed this to him, he would have told her about the ghosts harassing him. Maybe she could have done something. Maybe, maybe it wouldn't have come to this.
Now, it was too late. Danny was gone.
And she had to bear the weight of the blame.
Her breath shortened, and hot tears sprang to her eyes too quickly for her to will away. They spilled down her cheeks and splashed onto the disgusting red and white tile below her.
She should wipe them off, stop crying, suck it up. She couldn't break down now, not while Danny was out there with god only knew which rogue now.
But shit, it was her fault.
Her weakness got to her, and she found herself standing before the row of lockers with her forehead pressed against the cool metal. Her curly hair fell around her, shielding her from the view of any potential onlookers. But thankfully, the science hallway—tucked in its own small corner of the school—was always nearly deserted while classes were in session.
She should have saved Danny. She should have noticed something, anything. What was even the point of having all this gear if she couldn't protect the people she cared about most?
She wanted to crumble, to disintegrate into a pile of dust on the floor. She held her hand against her mouth, choking back sobs that tried to rip from the core of her diaphragm, but she knew that the lunch period was nearly over and it would only be a matter of minutes before the hall was populated once again.
So she breathed. In, then out. First, nothing but a shaky jolt, and then steadier. In and out until the thick tears had reduced to rubble, and her sobs were nothing but hiccups. 
And then she made a promise to herself. One to bring Danny back home.
She may have failed to protect him before, but she wouldn't fail to save him this time.
She wouldn't.
****
The air was still tonight—unusual for this particularly windy fall—and it was as if Valerie could hear every secret Amity Park whispered into the stars. Every owl hoot in the surrounding air, every soft click of someone’s heels on the pavement below. 
There was a certain serenity to these kinds of nights, ones that were bathed in countless stars glittering in the air above. Not that Valerie had really cared about silly things like the stars before. But after she began donning flight in her red suit alone, they became a source of comfort to her. A constant that she could count on—if the clouds allowed so. 
And it was all thanks to one particular boy that she had even looked up in the first place, hadn’t it?
The past two weeks, she found herself leaning on their comfort more as she spent the nights searching, and searching, and searching some more.
But where should she look? She didn’t know. It had been so long that he could be anywhere. There was a chance—a very likely chance—he wasn’t in Amity Park at all.
Especially if what she’d heard about him was true.
It was Johnny 13 who had let it slip. After a week of no leads, of no sleep, Valerie had the rather unfortunate pleasure of running into the biker ghost himself.
Or, maybe the fortunate pleasure. Because after cornering him and pressing her gun to his temple, his silver tongue was all too eager to spill.
“The kid?” Johnny had asked.
“Fenton. Son of the ghost hunters? Maybe you’ve heard of him.” Valerie wedged her gun into his skin just a little more.
“Jeez, cool it. Yeah, I’ve heard of him. Kid’s damn annoying enough on his own without his parents getting involved.”
Confusion sliced through her, but she had only just begun to react when Johnny slid out from her hold, reappearing on her other side.
“What are you talking about?” Valerie whirled around, nearly forgetting to keep her gun out in front of her. “Danny? The son? He doesn’t have anything to do with ghosts!”
Johnny barked a vicious laugh. “Oh, is that what he tells you? Man, you humans are so blind. Well, kid’s a good actor, I’ll give him that.”
Then, black cloaked her vision, and she could hardly escape the swirling shadows before she looked up and realized that Johnny 13 was gone. And then, so was his shadow.
That had happened almost a week ago, and since then she had questioned any ghost that crossed her path, but either no one knew or no one would tell her.
As the days stretched on, her suspicion about who could be behind Danny’s disappearance only grew, molted, and then solidified until there was only one ghost it could be.
The one ghost that had—not-so-coincidentally, Valerie was sure—disappeared as well.
In fact, Valerie was sure she hadn’t seen Phantom since before Danny’s disappearance. She tried to remember and…yeah, he hadn’t made any appearance grande nor small over the past two weeks.
That was unusual for him, the ghost that almost seemed to live in Amity Park for how much time he spent here.
So Phantom had to be involved somehow. He just had to. Perhaps he was the one who took Danny, or he could be just an accomplice. Either way, the timing was too exact for him not to be involved at all.
But he was just. Gone. 
Valerie had searched high and low, but there didn’t seem to be any sign of him anywhere. And if he was the one who took Danny, then where had they gone? The Ghost Zone?
Valerie tried not to think about that possibility too much.
So when a frighteningly familiar ecto-signature reading popped up on her wristband, Valerie didn’t hesitate to jet over to the source of it. He was just around the block—so close—and soon, she would have answers.
That little asshole thought he could just appear after two weeks of Danny’s disappearance as if everyone was going to welcome him back with open arms? As if nothing ever happened?
Yeah, fuck that. 
Drawing her weapons was a subconscious action at this point. Valerie didn’t have to think before her gun of choice had formed in her hand—black, with red on the side. Sleek and deadly, just like her.
She whipped around the corner of a building, looked out into the street, and there he was, hovering thirty feet above the sidewalk. Bathed in white with wild hair floating around him as if underwater and his black and white suit unmistakable against the Amity Park skyline, there was Phantom.
He was slow to face her, but that only worked to her advantage. Because as soon as it clicked in his head what was happening, Valerie was already on him, her gun trained at his forehead, her eyes fiery with weeks of untapped fury as she shouted, “What the hell did you do to him?”
Phantom blinked once, his eyes flickering to the gun, then Valerie, then to the gun again. He blinked again, this time slow, and perhaps so obtuse and obnoxious that Valerie couldn’t help but press her ectoweapon into his aura as she yelled, “I’ll fucking kill you again, Phantom! I’m not playing. Tell me what happened to him! What did you do to Fenton?”
Knitted eyebrows shot up along with his hands, and he jolted back as if seeing the gun for the first time. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hang on, what are you talking about?”
But that only enraged Valerie even more. “Don’t play dumb with me!”
“Seriously, I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t even know who that is!”
“You disappear for two weeks the same time as Fenton does, and now you’re claiming to not know anything?” Valerie’s glare narrowed as red tinged the edges of her vision. “Seriously, how much of a dumbass do you think I am? Spill! What the fuck happened to him? What did you do?”
He inched back more, his hands clasping, unclasping, then dropping once again. There was a nervous energy around him, and Valerie noticed—odd—that his chest seemed to be rising and falling almost as if he were hyperventilating.
But no, that wasn’t possible. “Answer me!” she snapped.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! Do I even know you?”
Valerie could have laughed at the sheer audacity of Phantom, but then she looked at him—really looked at him. His wide eyes quivering in anxiety, his ears which seemed to be pointed lower than usual, his panicked stance, and his fast…breathing…and suddenly, Valerie wasn’t sure anymore. Because the Phantom she knew would have made a stupid quip, shot her gun, and darted away.
But this? This Phantom? The one having anxiety before her?
This Phantom was almost pitiful.
She felt her grip on her gun weaken, and her arm lowered ever so slightly. “You don’t…remember me?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, but I think you have me confused for someone else!” he said, drawing his palms up once again in surrender. “I’ve never met you.”
…How?
She tried again, gritting her teeth and drawing her gun back to full force. “Oh no, you don’t get to do that game with me, ghost! Tell me what you did to Danny. Now.”
“I don’t know who that is!” he pleaded. “I’m serious! You have to believe me.”
Why did she believe him?
No, he was a ghost. Ghosts were conniving and evil. They were made to trick humans into getting their way. Valerie knew this. It was as ingrained into her as any self-defense move was.
So then, why? Why could she look into his acid-green eyes and instinctively know that he was telling the truth?
“What do you mean by that?” she pressed further. “I saw you just a few weeks ago. Hell, you live here. I know you do, even if you refuse to admit it.”
“I don’t—I don’t know. Really, I don’t know what you want from me. I’ve never been here, I promise! I was in the Infinite Realms and—”
“What? Where were you?” 
The glow in his eyes flickered, and his nervous energy was suddenly so palpable that Valerie could almost taste it. “The Infinite Realms! You know, where all the ghosts live!”
But…Phantom had only ever called that the Ghost Zone. Like all the other humans did. 
Infinite Realms? Was that…what the ghosts called it?
“I’ve only ever been there, I promise! I just…just woke up there one day, and I’ve been there ever since. I only got here—the Human World—a few minutes ago. There was a portal. Green, swirling light? You know? And I flew through it. I swear that’s the truth,” he insisted. “I promise I’ve never been here before. I didn’t know it was forbidden to come to your territory. I’m sorry! Once another portal comes, I can leave—uh, what’s your name?”
What. The. Fuck.
Valerie hovered in the air, stunned, staring into the eyes of a ghost she knew like the back of her hand, but one who didn’t seem to know…anything about her, about Amity, about anything. 
“You are Phantom, right?” Valerie asked.
“That—that’s what the other ghosts call me,” he said.
So…this was Phantom. It wasn’t some strange clone or anything. So then, what the fuck was going on?
“But you don’t know who I am?”
“No,” he said, then his eyes widened once more. “Am I supposed to?”
A fit of hilarious anger surged through Valerie, and she wanted to snap at him that of course he should know! What was he, stupid? But almost as that spiked her, it dissolved away. 
It wouldn’t have been fair to be angry at this Phantom. This one had no idea who she was, he didn’t know their history, and he apparently knew nothing about Amity Park, which Valerie had more than assumed had become his haunt.
Deep breaths, then. She needed to figure out what the hell was going on, then she could give Phantom a ginormous piece of her mind.
“You’ve been here before,” she explained. “A lot, actually.”
“I haven’t, I swear,” he insisted again in a panic, eyeing the gun that Valerie had forgotten was still between both of them.
She dropped her arm, though she didn’t retract the gun into her suit. One could never know, with ghosts as duplicative as they were.
“You have,” she retorted, now without the gun backing up her words. “I’ve seen you here more times than I can count. I’m The Red Huntress. That ring a bell at all?” 
He shook his head, though his brow was furrowed. “I was born in the Realms like other ghosts, and I’ve only ever been there. I’ve never left!”
This game of ping-pong wasn’t going to work. At least, it could only work so long as Valerie was willing to sacrifice her entire night’s sleep for the cause of Phantom’s mental rehabilitation, which as it stood, she wasn’t. 
Okay then. Time for plan B.
She pulled her cell phone out of the pocket in her suit’s thigh and opened TikTok, typing Phantom into the search bar.
“What are you doing?” a panicked voice asked.
She shushed him, eyeing past all the debate and theory videos until she found what she was looking for. Then, without so much as looking past her thumb clicking on the thumbnail, she shoved her phone in Phantom’s face.
He watched what sounded like some sort of compilation video with eyes expanding to comical proportions. Whatever weird fast “breathing” he’d been doing before was picking up again, and if it weren’t for Valerie’s adept reflexes, he probably would have swiped her phone out of her hands when he made to lunge for it.
“Nuh-uh!” Valerie said, holding her phone back.
“That can’t be right!” Phantom said, turning on her. “I swear, it’s not me!”
“It’s from a month ago, glow-boy!” she said. “There’s literally thousands of videos of you on here from the past year!”
He halted, his body growing rigid. “The past…how long?”
“Year,” Valerie repeated. She clicked another video and turned up her volume in time for the video Phantom to say a truly god-awful pun.
“Year?” Phantom’s voice was breathy. He wasn’t looking at the phone anymore, but Valerie could see him flinch at hearing his voice. “But that…no, that can’t be right.”
“I think your brain is having a hardware issue,” video Phantom said. “Have you tried turning it off and turning it back on?”
“You just don’t understand my BRILLIANCE!” a nasal voice screeched.
“Technus, your brain is slower than an Internet Explorer loading screen. I wouldn’t exactly call that brilliant.”
The Phantom in front of her shook his head incessantly. “That’s not me. It can’t be.” However, his voice sounded anything but convincing.
“It obviously is. What, you think I just made up a bunch of videos to confuse you?” Valerie snorted. “Give me a break.”
“But…I’ve only been a ghost for a few weeks! See? That can’t be me.”
A few weeks?
But that’s…
Valerie swiped down to the next video, this one a close-up of Phantom’s face grinning down at the camera below. He brought his gloved hands up behind his pointed ears like moose antlers, sticking his tongue out as he did. His white fangs poked out of the corners of his lips, his smile stretching until he broke into laughter.
The Phantom before her was sheet white.
“I’m only a few weeks old,” he begged quietly, hiding his eyes behind his hands as if Valerie’s phone screen was displaying imagery too horrific to look at. “This is impossible. I’ve been in the Infinite Realms. It’s…this is…no…”
“Phantom, I’ve known you for months.” Valerie leaned in, but as if sensing her, he reeled back, curling into himself.
“Is that how everyone knew who I was?” Phantom peered up from his hands. 
“Who?”
“The other ghosts. They…they acted like they knew me. Like I should know them. But I’d never met them before.”
Valerie didn’t know what ghosts he was talking about specifically, but she had a general idea. “You have. You do know them.”
Phantom reached for her phone again, and this time Valerie let him have it. But, to her amusement, when he jabbed his finger at her screen, nothing happened.
“You have to take your gloves off.”
Phantom’s brows furrowed, and he surveyed his hands as if seeing the gloves for the first time.
“Do they come off?” he asked himself mildly.
“They do,” Valerie answered, even though she was sure he didn’t expect her to. And sure enough, at his look, she explained, “I’ve seen you do it before.”
“Oh.” 
He handed her phone back to gently peel the white hazmat gloves from his suit. To his shock, but not Valerie’s, as soon as they left the vicinity of his aura, they simply dissolved into a green goo that began falling like rain before evaporating into the air.
“So that’s how that works,” he mused.
On one of his hands was the faint green glow of lightning that spindled up his wrists and disappeared into his suit. It was something that Valerie had seen before but never had the balls to ask about. Considering how much Phantom didn’t seem to know about, well, anything, she was sure as shit not getting that answer tonight either.
But on his other wrist was something interesting. And it was a small, skin-tight metal wristband.
“What’s that?” Valerie nodded toward the wristband.
“Huh?” Phantom asked, following her eyes to the bracelet. “Oh, I don’t know. I woke up with it, so I must have died in it. It’s how our outfits work, I think. Well, until you get powerful enough to change your appearance.”
Valerie filed away that bit of ghost lore for later. Her Phantom was never so forthcoming about the inner workings of ghosts as this. 
“No, you didn’t. I’ve never seen that before, and I’ve seen you with your gloves off.”
“Well, I don’t remember. Maybe I was starting to figure out how to change my appearance before I got like this?” He reached for the phone, clearly uninterested in talking about a silly bracelet when his entire world seemed to be imploding.
Valerie relented, handing it over. But, to his growing agitation and her further amusement again, his fingers had little impact on the screen.
“How the hell do you work one of these?” he growled.
“You might be too cold. What are you trying to do?”
“I’m trying to see if I knew that ghost! The metal one that was attacking me in the Realms yesterday!”
Valerie plucked her phone out of his fingers. “Okay, chill. Did he tell you his name?”
“Yeah. Said it about a million times.” He rolled his eyes. “Skulker, greatest hunter in the Ghost Zone. That’s what he said, anyway.”
“Oh, you definitely know him,” Valerie said, while still typing Ghost Skulker into the TikTok search bar. Sure enough, hundreds of videos appeared before her displaying the same annoying face in various poses on her screen. She clicked on one and handed her phone over to him.
His reaction made Valerie wonder if a ghost could jump out of its own skin. “What?! How? How is this possible?”
“I told you, we all know you! You’ve been around for a little while longer than a few weeks, Phantom!” 
She took the phone from his fingers. Just in time too, because he looked about ready to kneel over.
Could ghosts faint? As soon as the question popped into her mind, she realized that she didn’t want to test that theory. She barely knew what to do when a human fainted, let alone a ghost. And Valerie wasn’t one to start coddling ghosts.
She sighed, then glanced around. “Hey, wanna sit and talk for a minute?” She gestured over to the tall office building nearby. “If you like heights and privacy, I know a good rooftop.”
He squinted as if trying to figure out if he knew that roof. And then Valerie remembered all the nights on patrol, ambushing Phantom on that same building.
She thought back. What had he been doing those nights? 
“Sure,” he said, breaking her out of her thoughts.
Right. She didn’t have time to waste on Phantom’s silly actions. She was here for Danny. And somehow, this amnesiac was connected—she was absolutely certain of it.
They flew over and touched down on the roof, Valerie’s hoverboard retracting into her boots. She looked over to see Phantom’s flight tail morph into legs before he cautiously hit the roof as if he were afraid of breaking it. He looked down curiously at the ply and gravel roof before crouching down and…touching it? With his ungloved fingers?
What the hell?
As if noticing her staring, he answered, “Everything here feels weird. It’s missing that charge.”
“Charge?”
He glanced back at Valerie. “Yeah, the charge from the ectoplasm.”
“You can feel that?”
“You can’t?” 
Okay…yet another weird thing to file about ghosts. Apparently, they had some sort of sixth sense for ectoplasm.
It was like every single word out of this idiot’s mouth left Valerie with more questions. For a moment, she wondered if that was on purpose. If he was using his classic ghostly manipulation to try to distract her from asking about Danny.
But then, she looked back down at him rubbing the grains of rock and pebble between his fingers, and yeah…no freaking way this was an act. Her Phantom was an idiot, but not this stupid.
So what the hell was going on?
****
next chapter
[read all my works here]
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artbribery · 10 months
Text
But what if danny became jason became danny.
As in, coming out of death portal/pit, both 14 year olds suddenly take each other's place.
And hey, if they act a little... a lot different? Well, this was a traumatic event that would leave anyone absolutely changed.
it's like they became a completely different person.
Jason was very amnesiac, much confusion when he went in so it could be excused that he will panick and show absolutely no chill at being surrounded by strangers that aren't doctors, let alone ninjas, when he came back to life
(after the shock and subsequent almost drowning that went from vertical standing in a hell/hallway to horizontal swimming in a hell-pool. the reverse is also applicable to jason-as-danny)
Oh Jason lost all his fighting skills? He doesn't know Bruce or Gotham? Must be some trauma response. No matter, there are no flaws to correct, just a blank canvas to paint on!
Bad times for "Jason" might include: oh no my morals, murder and stuff, is this hell and all these ghosts?, incredible anger issues, a whole cult of ninjas, coming to terms with the situation that went from 0 to 100 (like, seriously, nothing had ever happened to danny before), evil cult leader and the ??? cult leader's daughter that is kinda your mentor now?,
On the flipside
Danny hasn't yet had his rebellious teenager phase right? He seems very withdrawn for some reason?
Danny? Reading the classics? Doing well in literature class? Lancer is very proud and very concerned
Suddenly Danny is out of the house and won't return until very late, Teenagers am i right? Wanting their independence and all
His friends seem worried but guilty, maybe they had a falling out? And that's why they don't seem to hang out? Don't wanna look too close, they'll figure themselves out, I'm sure
Danny? Awkward string bean and nasa nerd, getting into fights? He really grew a spine, he must have grown tired of the bullying
Bad times for "Danny" might include: first prize for weirdest basement, oh no powers out of my control, im? dead? or not???, suspicious nosy sister who wants to psychoanalyze him, great(derogatory)- new rogue gallery just for me, regular teenage problems, oh yeah evil rich godfather probably
and
(problem that might: oh yeah this is not my body and that's not my name wtf)
Bonus
I am assuming the mish-mash things they have would be those pertaining to the body they just pseudo-isekai'd to but what if
they followed the soul
the powers followed danny, the anger followed jason
which would mean that "danny" would be reliant on the fenton tech which would not be too different from being robin, gadgets and all, and would be an absolute vicious terror on ghosts
which would mean "jason" would be in absolute hell because the waters already made people some sort of meta but this was never seen before,
dam boi can't catch a break
Jason, The Chosen one, it must be Fate, the will of Lazarus, we either become the next "molecule by molecule" in an effort to find out more or we will worship the child—the league of shadows maybe
Or
They don't bodyswap and but still swap stuff
(but who's danny angry at? his parents? sam and tucker? ghosts?)
(in other news jason is a meta now, yep, ghost? no, whatever made you think that... he is still in hot water though,, for that whole "anomaly" thing)
This is all assuming they both don't get away at the first chance they get and actually deal with the "life" they were thrown into
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