#and Danny will probably freeze the room

[nelkcats]

Phantom Fever

When Danny left Amity he was pretty sure it would be a quick trip. He wasn't expecting a few days' visit to Gotham to check some annoying "co-workers" of Vlad's, a gala and a serious case of fever.

Being fair, Danny didn't know that ghosts could get sick, or how much damage this could do. His powers went completely haywire, activating and deactivating in the middle of the street, and it was only thanks to Vlad that he was able to come up with an excuse or two.

Vlad obviously didn't expect him to get sick either, if his disgusted face was anything to go by. The two had a truce of sorts but it was obvious they were only on friendly terms thanks to Jack Fenton.

Danny didn't feel like locking himself in a room and drinking soup. He wanted to call Frostbite, but he was too far away from the Realms, and the halfa refused to let Vlad check on him.

So he ended up on the streets of Gotham, spreading early winter and ice stalagmites in his wake. It was just luck that Vlad found him before the bats, who were obviously interested in the new development. Danny wondered how he was supposed to attend the gala in those conditions.

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

I’ve had this idea in my head for days now and it just won’t LEAVE so here have scraps

So we know those de-aged au’s with Danny right, and the ones where Jason adopts him? YESSSSSS so anyways the thing that’s been ravaging my brain like an anteater on crystal meth is:

So all night has been pretty shit for Jason. Drug dealers, a couple muggings (who even goes out anymore in crime alley, at this time of night???????) and some human traffickers. You know, the usual. So anyways he’s pissed. Not to mention when he comes across some bastard who’s beating his family, jason promptly broke his legs in a couple new ways he liked. Later, deep into the night he’s already seeing a bit of green around the edges and he’s already called in dick to cover some areas while he cools off, so, naturally, as it is in crime alley, something goes horribly wrong that gets him pissed. Beyond pissed. He sees green and only when dick drags him away does he see some red too. A lot of red.

Fuck.

Well, he knows exactly what he has to do, so he pushed dick off of him and starts roof-hopping over to his apartment (where did his bike go?) and dick calls in the others thinking Jason’s going for more weapons/ammo or smthn, and Jason gets to his lil place and carefully opens a window, trying to be quiet because even though he’s in a killing mood he doesn’t want to wake Danny up, what kind of monster would do that?

Anyways Jason’s taking a moment with his helmet off, leaning his arms against the counter to calm himself down taking deep breaths he learned from Danny yes okay he learned from his son when Tim and dick crash through and Jason gets a little more pissed because those assholes probably just woke up Danny!

So here’s Tim and dick wrestling with Jason to get his weapons off of him and calm him down when all of a sudden the lights flick on and there’s a little boy, around 6, with a messy mop black hair and loose space-themed pajamas, rubbing his eyes as he clearly just woke up. everyone freezes in place and Danny looks around, his eyes adjusting to the light before he looks at Jason and–

“Dad? What’s going on?” He asks so innocently with a tilt of his head. While his brothers are stunned to silence Jason shrugs them off as hard as he can (they woke up his son) and walks over to Danny. Dick and tim lurch foreward but Jason just picks up Danny and places him on his hip. Danny reaches forward and carefully pulls off his dads domino and holds it in his hand while he frowns. “Green monsters are being angry again?” And Jason just sighs with his son (his son!!) in his arms and looks at danny; dick and Tim now seeing the green almost completely gone from his eyes.

“Yeah bud. No big deal though, alright? The green monsters are all gone now. So come on, it’s past your bedtime Danny.” To which Danny groans and he turns to look at the two others in the room who are bewildered as fuck because does Jason have a kid????? W h e n?? H o w??? Okay they know how they really don’t but that’s not the point

Anyways they stand there for a minute while Jason puts Danny to bed and when Jason comes back out he stares at them in silence. Then he just *sighs* and stares them dead in the eyes “yes, I have a kid. Yes, he quiets the pit. Yes, it’s past his bedtime. And yes,” Jason cocks his gun, “you both will be getting out of my apartment. right now. Silently.”

Yeah, they guess questions can wait till tomorrow

Link to the fic :)

[radiance1]

Multiple businesses have suddenly been handed over to one man under the name of Masters. Multiple businesses who have some type of corruption one way or another.

The Wayne's wouldn't have even noticed, really, if the same wasn't happening in Gotham city.

It was alarming, really. Whoever Masters was he new how to pick his targets, businesses which are either small enough to go ignored, about to go bankrupt, or had rumors (which were true) about dabbling in crime.

All the businesses he took seemingly flourished under his hands, with not even a single corner being dipped in crime. Whoever Masters was, he was undoubtably a successful businessman, he managed to built an empire that was soon capable of rivaling both Lexcorp Wayne Foundation in a few years, and he was an incredibly elusive man himself.

No one knew what he looked like, nor his first name.

Only his last, Masters.

On a different note, there was another thing Tim was looking into. A new restaurant/ice cream parlor which opened up recently, it just opened up out of the blue, owned by a family that just appeared in Gotham one day.

From what he checked, there wasn't any records about any of them anywhere Tim could find, like literally nothing. Almost like they didn't exist prior to the day they opened.

There was only three people who owned the store. Vlad- no last name- the cook and owner, Danny- again, no last name- the cashier and Jasmine- once again, no last name- the waitress.

He had a suspicion- no he was very sure that Danny was a meta, one who had power over ice. They never ran out of ice, the space behind his counter was always cold (Well he did man the ice cream parlor and the drinks, but still), he quite literally watched the guy freeze someone's coffee when they tried to complain it was too hot and the most damming thing.

Their ice cream machine was never, not even once, broken.

Vlad was most definitely a fire meta, the temperature always seemed to rise whenever he was in the room, and his kitchen was a goddamn furnace, no one who didn't have at least some kind of fire resistance would be able to go in there with an apron and stay there for hours on end.

He was also very defensive over his kitchen for some reason, Tim thought it was because of the insane heat which might be part of the reason, but even to his own workers he doesn't allow them inside. Tim managed to overhear his reason as to why though.

"No offense, and in the most respectful way I can put this. But you two just throw food in the oven and hope it doesn't gain sentience."

Tim thinks he probably didn't mean that literally.

Jasmine couldn't be flagged as a meta, but he does think there's something about her. Probably has a pretty solid foundation in martial arts, or ballet, because her balance is impeccable. He quite literally watched her dance her over to different tables with multiple plates on her body.

Tim didn't think there was any type of connection between the Masters takeover and the restaurant, and technically he should be alerting Bruce to the two new metas in Gotham but.

They have a coffee to die for.

No, he should probably be telling Bruce, or at least another one of the family...

Maybe after he stops by and grabs himself a coffee, oh and most definitely one of their ice creams too.

[lovelytsunoda]

the right temperature to be keeping you warm // daniel ricciardo (kinktober day 6!)

summary: she’s not used to october being as warm as it is when she joins daniel in perth for thanksgiving. the heat is unbearable, and daniel has a fun way to cool her down.

prompt: temperature play

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

warnings: ice play, lots of giggling and laughter, daniel is incapable of taking anything seriously.

"jesus, danny, it's just at hot inside as it was on the patio! at least in here there's a bit of a breeze from the fan!" she groaned, falling back against the sofa, sweat-marred tank top plastered to her skin.

she considered herself lucky she was wearing pumpkin orange and not white, otherwise everybody in a ten mile radius could probably see her bra.

danny laughed, taking the shopping bags into the kitchen. "is it not usually this hot in october back in canada?"

"uh, no? there was one year it snowed in october. like, on halloween. canadian weather doesn't make sense, usually our octobers are just wall-to-wall rain."

"sorry, sugar. i can't control the weather, unfortunately." danny hummed, opening the freezer to grab two mr. freeze ice lollys.

his lover was still lying on the couch, arm thrown over her closed eyes while she used her free hand to dan her face. with a devilish grin on his face, danny sat next to her on the couch, eyes trained on where her shirt had ridden up to show off her midriff.

holding the freezie carefully, he pressed the wrapper against her stomach, the thin layer of ice melting almost as soon as it touched her belly. she shrieked, jumping slightly. daniel laughed, moving to pull the freezie away before she gripped his wrist, pulling the coldness back to her skin.

she rolled her eyes at the aussie, shuffling so her crossed feet rested on her boyfriend's lap. "i'm annoyed at you for making a joke out of this, but it feels nice. refreshing. it's cooling me down."

danny raised an eyebrow. she looked up at him through her eyelashes, blinking slightly before she realized that daniel had the look.

and god help anyone who got between daniel and his love when he had the look.

danny pulled away from her, taking the mr.. freeze with him as he went back to the open kitchen, large windows letting in the light and illuminating his silhouette like some kind of greek god or adonis.

"babe, what are you doing?"

"close the blinds and take off you clothes!" danny shouted back. "just trust me on this! leave your bra and panties on, though!"

she rolled her eyes, forcing herself to get up from her position of rest on the couch. she was glad to get out of her sweat-stained clothes anyways, flipping the white blinds closed in one twist of the plastic tab before she began to undress.

danny came back into the living room with a tray of ice cubes in his hand and a devious look on his face. because he had an idea. a very good, definitely not sexual idea. read: the idea was almost entirely sexual.

he beckoned y/n back over the couch, instructing her to lay down and get comfortable. out of the corner of her eyes, she kept trying to give danny a questioning look, hoping he would tell her literally anything at all.

"patience, pretty girl." he grinned, popping an ice cube out of the silicone tray. "good things come to those who wait. literally."

she playfully stuck her tongue out as daniel settled in next to her, placing the ice cube on her burning skin, gently pushing it over her belly button. he was attentive, watching the way goosebumps rose on her skin, the small trail of water that the ice cube left behind as he chauffeured it around on the edge of his finger.

the way she sucked in a breath, biting her lip to stop from whining.

he smiled roguishly, bringing his head down towards her stomach and sucking the ice cube into his mouth. at the feeling of his warm lips contrasting with the icy cold of the ice cube on her stomach, she gasped, arching into danny. he smiled against her, using his tongue to push the cube around her skin.

she moaned at the sensation, an honest to god moan. “oh, danny.” she breathed, tangling her hands in his hair, and giving one of his curls a tug.

daniel moaned, the ice cube slipping out of his mouth and sliding right off her skin and onto the couch. they both laughed as daniel reached for another one.

“is this making it better, pretty girl?”

“much.” she hummed, running her thumb over his cheekbones. “but I need more. I need you to eat me out.”

daniel laughed before softly kissing her thigh, running his cold tongue over her skin, watching her lips curve upwards in a smile.

"my pretty girl." he mumbled, snaking his chilled fingers underneath her cotton panties, slowly teasing them down her legs. "such a good fucking girl for me."

he drew back, making a show out of dramatically placing the ice cube into his mouth before leaning back in, running the ice cube gently over the skin around her entrance.

"fuck, danny."

"the condensation from the ice cube was mixing with the evidence of her arousal, making it almost impossible for daniel to keep a grip on it. the ice cube slipped out of his mouth a few times before he gave up, allowing it to fall to the couch cushions.

"so worked up for me, sugar. yeah, you're so wet for me that i can't even hold the ice cube against you. slips right outta my mouth."

he couldn;t wait any longer, pressing his tongue up against where she ached for him most. she let out a strangled moan, thighs threatening to close around his head.

daniel smiled against her, ready to immediately shower her with all the praise she could need.

and there would be lots and lots of praise, because it was going to be a very long afternoon spent tucked between the thinnest sheets in his linen closet and showing her all the ways in which he loved her and her sexy body.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @mignonricciardo @oconso @monzabee @thatsdemko @userlando @httpiastri @love4lando

[theglamorousferal]

The Cryptid of Smallville

I am posting the first couple chapters of the fic that I am currently working on juuuust in case AO3 goes down again. In the next couple days I’ll start posting some of my wips that I don’t think I’ll finish. If any of them inspire people to write more then I’ll be happy. 

I had the thought a while ago about what if Danny was raised alongside Clark Kent and the hijinks that would result in Danny being near the liminal space that is cornfields. These are basically a series of connected one-shots because I am not that great at trying to do a real plot lol

Without further ado, here’s the first chapter of the Cryptid of Smallville! (Small edit: here’s the link to AO3 the first two chapters are there)

______________________________________________________________ The night sky was clear and open above the cornfields as a gentle breeze caused the plants to stir. It was a calm night on the Kent family farm. A streak of neon green broke across the sky and landed in the middle of the fields, purple tinged smoke wafting from the crash site. A boy of about six rolled over in his sleep, glowing green eyes glancing at the stars above framed by smoke. The gentle breeze is still blowing, returning the night to calm.

*****

Danny was gonna put Clockwork in soup time whenever he got back into the Zone. 

He was laying there, staring at the clouds in the sky, surrounded by corn, and only about three and a half feet tall, wondering where in the Realms he was. Clockwork had said something about sending him off somewhere with people who could handle a child with powers growing up before tossing him through a portal by the ankle. He had ended up in low orbit and was lulled to sleep by staring at the stars he is so fond of.

Crawling out of the hole he was in, he examined the surrounding area and just found a bunch of burnt and slightly smoldering corn and kicked up dirt. The gentle breeze brought the smell of bacon to his nose and he floated to look just above the tall plants around him. He spots a house in the distance and starts heading there, making sure to walk the last few yards just in case this isn’t where CW intended him to go. He finds himself stumbling from the field just to make eye contact with a man pulling on his work boots for the day on the porch steps, the man freezes. 

“Hey Martha?” The man yells into the house.

“Yes Jon?” a voice muffled from the door yells back.

“Do we have a spare room done up?” the man, Jon, asks, not taking his eyes off Danny.

“Why? Are you expecting someone and forgot to tell me?” the voice sounds like it’s getting closer to the door.

“No honey, I think we may have a repeat situation of Clark though.” He briefly glances from Danny up to the last bits of smoke wafting from the field. A quiet “What?” comes from the house. He gentles his voice, full attention on Danny. “Hey son, did you have a bit of an accidental landing in the corn? Is your head okay? Are your parents around?”

Danny stays still for a moment thinking about what’s going on. The man seems to at least suspect that he crash landed on his property and mentioned something about something like this happening before. Have these people dealt with a random child appearing at their house before? Specifically one that crashed from the sky? He has many questions, but he should probably answer Jon first. 

“Yeah, I got sent away until I was better, my head doesn’t hurt at all and my parents are not exactly from around here, and don’t know where I am.” He pauses thinking about it. “Does the children-crashing-onto-your-farm-thing happen a lot to you?”

Jon chuckled as he finished tying his boots up and walked down the stairs just as the door opens and a woman in an apron is standing there looking surprised to see an unknown child standing in her yard. The man crouches down in front of Danny, giving him a once-over. 

“You’d be surprised, now what’s your name son?.”

“It’s Danny Fenton, what’s yours?”

“Jon Kent, my wife over there is Martha. Now you look like you could use a good meal and a washup, how’s that sound?” Jon grins at Danny and musses up his hair before standing and offering a hand to walk into the house. He smiles over at Martha who blinks and then gives Danny a warm smile, standing aside to let them enter the house.

“Good thing I made some extra breakfast then, let’s get some food in you young man, you’re as skinny as a post!” She smiles and heads towards the kitchen. “Be sure to wash up your hands first hun, can’t eat with dirty hands! And Jon! What have I told you about your muck boots being in the house! I’m sure Danny can find his way and wash his own hands; second door on the right hun; and git outta my house with those things on, I’ll have more coffee ready for you once you feed the animals!” Jon pouted and trudged his way out of the house.

Danny smiled a little to himself as he looked for the door Martha was talking about, noting the wallpaper and decor that looked like every midwest farmer’s house he’d seen in any piece of media ever. After washing his hands he made his way to where he could hear soft humming and dishes being washed. He saw a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table next to a glass of orange juice, a glass of milk, and a container of syrup and headed to the spot.

“Thank you Mrs. Kent.” he said from his seat and she smiled back at him, going back to the dishes. Danny realized he’d probably have to start explaining what he could to them soon, but decided to focus on the breakfast in front of him. The breakfast that wasn’t alive and currently trying to kill him. He nearly cried.

“So Danny,” Martha began as she wiped her hands off with a dish rag. “Do you remember how it is you got here?” She joined him at the table with a cup of coffee after setting a mug, a spoon and the sugar bowl next to the machine for her husband when he came in.

“I do, it’s a really weird story though, I’m not sure you’ll believe me.” He was hesitant, he still wasn’t sure these were the people that Clockwork meant to send him to. Though they’ve taken the whole crash-landed-child-thing pretty well… Screw it, he’ll see if he can wait until Jon comes back and explain to both of them. “Can we wait for Mr. Kent too? I don’t really want to say it twice.” 

She smiled at him, taking a sip of her coffee and then nodded. “That’s fine hun, he shouldn’t be more than a couple minutes unless the rooster decided to pick a fight again.” she chuckled to herself, looking out of the window while drinking her coffee. She sees the faint trail of smoke rising in the sky outside and her eyebrows pinch in worry. “You didn’t happen to see anythin’ burning when you got up, did you?” 

Danny glances out the window and sees the smoke. “Oh no, there was just a little bit still smoldering in the hole, but there wasn’t anything actively burning. I can show you both when I finish explaining what I can.” The slapping of a screen door startles him and Jon walks in, heading straight for the coffee maker and making himself a cup, then joining them at the table.

“So Danny-boy, what can you tell us?” Jon gives his full attention to Danny. 

Danny shifts in his seat, looking every part the six year old he appeared to be, uncertain at the attention of two adults. “Well, it’s a long story and kinda out there? I’m not sure how much you’ll believe?” He looks uncertain at the pair across from him who share a look. Martha reaches across the table to take Danny’s hand.

“Honey, you wouldn’t believe the stuff we’re used to, I’m sure it’s fine.”

Danny only hesitated a moment longer and then sighed looking far older than his apparent six years. “So to start off with, wherever this is, I’m not from around here. I’m assuming since you both speak English that this is still Earth, but maybe not MY Earth, I’m still a bit confused on the whole ‘multiverse’ thing, but either way, I got sent here until some stuff got sorted out and so I’ll be here until it does.” He was rambling, he knew, but he’s kind of anxious about stuff. “I kinda got put in my childhood body and now I have to get back to my actual age and my Guardian said something about time here running differently than in my dimension before he just chucked me through a portal. He did say he was sending me to people who could handle my weirdness as I age, so I’m assuming you are them and maybe have some experience with kids with freaky weird stuff happening to them?”

The Kents once more shared a look, this one a little longer than the last, then turned back to Danny. “Oh son, I think you’ll fit in just fine. So, how long can we expect you for? I can tell you’re probably a lot older than six judging by how you talk?”

Danny blinked at him, trying to process the fact that they didn’t seem phased and rather seemed like they believed him. “Uh, I was sixteen, so I guess a decade? I’m sorry to impose on you for a while, really I can figure out stuff on my own, I don’t want to be a bother.”

Jon chuckled “Oh trust me son, it wouldn’t be an issue, I’m sure Clark would love a younger brother, or at the very least a friend who understands him. We have plenty of room here, and though we’d probably ask you for help with chores, we’d be glad to have you for however long you need.”

Danny blinks again at them. They weren’t serious, right? They just seem fine taking in a random child and having him live with them for however long. And who was this Clark? What did he mean by younger brother?

“Clark?” he asked hesitantly.

“Oh right, our son, you’ll meet him when he gets home from school, I’m sure you’ll get along just fine! Now Danny, let me show you to a room and we can get you settled, we’ll probably have to head on over to the thrift shop to get you something to wear besides these charred and muddy pj’s, but we should have something from Clark that’s too small that’ll fit you for now.” Martha took his hand and led him upstairs to where he’d be in apparently his new home.

*****

Clark had had a pretty boring day at school. The classes were boring. He had to hold back in gym class again and when studying the skeletal system in biology, he started studying the teacher’s bones instead of the display skeleton or the worksheet. He was really looking forward to getting home and maybe going for a fly around the fields where no one could see him or maybe catching the latest episode of Rescue Rangers. 

He could spot his house in the distance and after looking around to make sure no one would see him, he sped down the driveway as fast as he could, knocking up a lot of dirt in the process. He really liked going fast, whether running or flying. He just loved the wind in his hair. 

“Ma, Pa, I’m home.” he kicked his sneakers off and rushed upstairs into his room to drop off his bag. He listened around for heartbeats and realized that Pa was out on the tractor and Ma was out with the chickens. He froze as he heard a much closer sound though. It was very slow and faint, but he could hear another heartbeat in the house. Even more, he could hear someone muttering to themselves in the guest room and the flipping of pages.

Clark slowly made his way down the hall towards the sound and peaked in the room with his x-ray vision. There, sitting on the ceiling, was a child about half his age reading a ratty old book about space. Clark stood in the doorway, now able to see him in regular vision and just stared at him. He took a moment until he decided to just join him up there and sat across from him.

“So who are you?” Clark asked while the kid was still focused on his book. He didn’t even look up from the book.

“Name’s Danny.” The kid paused for a second before he looked up and stared at Clark. Danny looked from Clark to the ceiling, to the floor, and then back to Clark. “Oh, so that’s why they said I’d fit right in here. I guess we are pretty similar! I’m guessing you’re Clark then?” The child beamed at him, putting out his hand to shake. Clark took it gently, not wanting to hurt the kid. Then the kid gripped his hand tight and Clark realized that they have more in common than he thought and gripped his hand tighter in response.

“So where are you from?” Clark asked, very curious as to how this kid who could fly and had his strength, but also had almost no heartbeat ended up at his house. Danny rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m not from this Earth and I kinda got put here to recover for a long while and my Guardian decided your parents are the best equipped to handle a kid growing up with powers, so he sent me here. I’m guessing because of you?” 

“Yeah, mine started manifesting around your age. What powers do you have? How long do you plan to be here? Where are you from? You said this wasn’t your Earth, I’m guessing you’re from a different dimension then? That’s so cool!” Clark, ever curious, shot off many questions rapid fire and Danny laughed while answering them all as best he could.

Part 2

[flamingpudding]

Ghost Hunting Vigilantes #2

Ties to: Ouija Board Prompt and Ghost Hunting Vigilantes

A/N: The electric gun thing was inspired by Elton from TFIL Overnight. They used it in one of their videos I just don't remember which and what they called it. Also thanks to @cyber-geist for sparking this follow up idea.

Danny was pressed flat against the wall and floating close to the ceiling. His hands still covering his mouth. What the actual fuck? How prepared was this teen? Sam had made him watch a lot of ghost hunting videos online but none of these 'hunters' appeared and held themselves like Red Robin.

Ancients, he wouldn't be surprised if they also had some Fenton Tools now.

Danny watched how Red Robin was frowning at the screen, the camera was still pointed at him. Once more the Ghost King looked down at himself, feeling for the familiar hum of his powers. He definitely knew he was still invisible.

"It's all a little blurry but I think the SLS Camera is picking something up…" The Teen muttered and Danny watched how the girls wandered over to look at the screen too.

"That's just a bundle of yellow lines. Doesn't even remotely look like a stick figure." Spoiler commented and Danny really wished he could let out a sigh of relief. So the camera was not picking him up. That was good to know.

"That is strange. When I tested it before the background image was still clearly visible but it looks like everything is blurry and static like." Red Robin muttered and Danny couldn't help but suck in a breath when the teen looked up directly at him.

The Ghost King knew they couldn't see him but right now this feels like the teen could. Danny let out the breath he sucked in once the teen turned to the vigilante in blue.

"Hey Nightwing. Could you spark some electricity?"

"What?"

"Your escrima sticks." The teen deadpanned. "Use them and spark some electricity into the air to charge the molecules."

"Why the fuck should he do that?"

"The interference I am getting on the camera is probably because the ghost used up most of its energy with the little music stunt it pulled. So to recharge and offer them some energy to keep communicating with us, we will release some electricity into the air. This will also prevent the ghost from attempting to drain any of our batteries or in the worst case our own energy or stamina if you want to say it like that."

What? Danny blinked. Okay he was the Ghost King, yes he had learned from his tutors that there are some ghosts that feed on electricity but most of them had an electric core and as far as Danny knew he was not sucking up battery power or life energy, not a power he had developed…. yet? He probably should ask his former rogue Technus if he knew anything about what Red Robin just said.

While Danny contemplated this the other vigilantes were staring at Red Robin and his explanation and the teen sighed. "Look if you don't want to use them, under the table to your left is a case with a modified stun gun that will do the same."

"We are not giving this Pit Demon power!" Robin declared as he moved to sit in front of the case blocking Nightwing as well as anyone else potential access to it.

Nightwing only shrugged and took out his weapons letting them spark to live.

There was a very hearable sharp intake of air and suddenly the rooms temperature dropped. The vigilantes watched how a sheen of ice spread around the walls and ice flowers started to bloom on the windows and glass like surface.

"What the fuck?!" Red Hood yelled, dropping the controller he was holding and pulling out his guns.

"We didn't invite Mr. Freeze, did we?" Spoiler asked no one in particular, rubbing her arms for warmth. Orphan was taking on a fighting position with her eyes surveying the room. Robin had sprung up on his feed, katana out and ready to fight once more, even Nightwings whose escrima sticks were still crackling with electricity assumed a fighting position.

The only one who appeared unconcerned was Red Robin, his eyes were still glued onto the screen that was still blurry and static like at times. "Hmm they weren't drawing energy front he camera... but now we know that the ghost has temperature changing abilities. I wonder… if I use the integrated heat-vision of our masks...."

"RR not the time to get stuck in your head!"

Danny couldn't breath as he pressed himself further into the ceiling. Green glowing eyes focused on the visible electricity sparking and humming from the blue ones weapons. His entire focus was on that and he hated it.

He had fucking trauma with a capital T. His friends knew that. His siblings knew that. His parents knew that. His former rogues knew that. Ancients. Even Dan had admitted it once to him that he had a similar problem with electricity!

Everything in him screamed to get away from that electric hum, he barely remembered to keep his invisibility up as he sought out the point farest away from what he probably presumed were tasers sticks. He hated how his core trembled and he wanted to do nothing more than fly as far away as he could.

"HEY GHOST FUCKER! STOP TRYING TO MAKE US POPSICLES!"

Green eyes snapped away from the crackling electricity and Danny could only stare at Red Hood who clearly didn't know where Danny was but still yelled profanities at every wall of the room not once moving from his spot though.

"Like yelling at the ghost will work. Anyone happen to have a blow torch on hand?"

"<tt> I told you it's a Pit Demon and now because of Red Robins stupidly we might end up frozen."

"Look how was supposed to know that the Ghost would use the electricity to change the Temperature this drastically? I knew they could change the temperature slightly but not like this!"

"Nightwing stop fucking sparking electricity already!"

"Oh right." The electric hum stopped and Danny felt himself relax slightly. "How do we get out of this? Think we could get B on the coms to bring us something?"

"Isn't he with the Justice League, right now?"

"<tt> You are all too relaxed for this."

"Oh, do you have a better idea than Demon Brat?"

Blinking Danny realized he had frozen over the entire room and that the ice had traveled up to the knees of the vigilantes. Nervously he rubbed at the back of his neck as he let his powers run and told the ice to withdraw from the vigilantes.

-Sorry, I am not got with electricity like that.- The Ghost King apologised in ghost speech sheepishly as soon as that spirit box was no longer covered in ice and his own trauma infused panic had settled down. It was probably better not to let them hear his voice right now.

Red Robin instantly turned his attention back to the SLS Camera Screen only to find it shut down. The cold had messed with something in it, making it blue screen and shut down. The vigilante narrowed his eyes, had the ghost maybe done this on purpose like Robin had said?

"Okay fucking noted. No sparking electricity if we don't want to be popsicles." Red Hood grumbled clearly not happy with what happened as he dramatically stomped with his boots like he was testing if he could feel all his toes.

"Did you die getting electrocuted? That was a pretty strong reaction." Nightwing couldn't help but ask. A little worry as well as curiosity layering his voice.

"Wait didn't Mr. Ghost say last time that asking about how he died is rude?"

"We are not pissing of that fucker any more than we already have." Red Hood decided, crossing his arms, guns still in his hands, while the EMF Meter lay forgotten by his feet.

"This Pit Demon is clearly tricking us. This was an attempt to get rid of us."

"Stop saying that! We still don't even know if it's a Pit Demon in the first place!"

Danny felt a presence appear next to him as he continued watching the vigilantes argue, a little amused as well as still apologetic because of the ice. Carefully he side eyed the presence hoping for all there was that it wasn't who he felt it was only to gulp. Next to him was Lady Gotham and she was once again holding the ghost club in her hands. A new kind of panic settled in the Ghost King's stomach, he slowly started to understand why Clockwork had such respect for this spirit.

"Oh look at the time. It has gotten late. Gotta go! BYE!"

Okay he panicked and once again forgot about ghost speech when he opened the portal home right next to him to escape her first swing but in his defense: That spirit had a mean swing that rivaled all the females of his family when they had the Creep Stick at hand and were pissed.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Have you… you know… died?

part 3 of MM ao3

Jason wakes up slowly. God, his whole body feels sore and achy. He shifts, then freezes. 

He was in an alley. He’d just been shot by some idioceta. He’d been bleeding out and unable to contact the cave. He struggled to remember what had happened. 

Tim had been there, hadn't he? But he didn’t think he was at the cave. And he wasn’t in enough pain to account for a near fatal bullet wound. In fact, apart from feeling achy he felt fine. But he knew he had been shot. How long had it been? 

He froze. He remembered glowing green. No. He was fine. He wasn’t with the League.

He could hear the sounds of traffic and what sounded like a whispered argument and he was still in uniform. 

At least he still had his helmet on. Which actually didn’t help much since the display was busted and he could barely make out a water stained ceiling above him.

He tried to focus on the sound of voices, but they were muffled, probably in a different room.

He sits up slowly, turning his head to take in as much of the room as he can through the fritzing display. It looks like he’s in a living room. He’s laying on a couch with a small coffee table between it and an old T.V. that's sitting on a crate. Off to the side is a kitchen. The voices are probably coming from a bedroom, he still can’t make out what they’re saying apart from a few words that don’t tell him anything. 

He stands, moving quietly towards the window. Whatever the situation is, it will be better if he can get out of here before they notice he’s awake.

The voices fall silent and Jason quickly unlocks the window. There are footsteps behind him and he hurries to pull the window open.

“Red Hood.” 

Jaso pauses and turns back, tensing and preparing to defend himself. 

He stills. In front of him looms a gorgeous redhead, she’s tall, probably about his height, and she has brilliant teal eyes. Behind her stands… a boy who looks remarkably like Tim. The eyes are a slightly different shade of blue and his hair is longer and unruly. 

“If you’ll wait just a moment, Hood, my brother,” she glares at they boy who looks sheepish, “can explain what’s happening.”

Jason considered. It would be nice to know what happened. Why he isn’t dead. And what that green stuff was. And neither of them look like they could take him down.

He turns full towards them and crosses his arms, “Explain.”

The girl relaxes and smiles at him. “Thank you. I’m Jazz, and this is Danny.”

“Hi.”

Jason waits. Jazz nudges her brother who steps forward and rubs the back of his neck not looking at Jason.

“I found you outside and unconscious. I brought you here, so you wouldn’t get murdered by some random goon or something.”

Jason stares. “You,” he points. “carried me?” There’s no way this scrawny kid carried him.

“Umm…” 

Jazz nudges Danny again and he shoots her a glare.

“What did you do?” Jason asks.

“What?” Danny frowns.

Jason motions to the tear in his suit, the bloodstain. “What did you do? I clearly remember getting shot.”

“Well, you see…” Danny trails off.

Jazz sighs. “Danny was able to heal you.”

“You a meta?” Jason asks. He feels relieved. If the kid’s a meta that means there was no Lazarus pit involved.

“Not exactly.” Danny says slowly, not looking at Jason. Jason waits. After a moment Danny continues. “Have you at some point, died or been really close to death or glowing green goo?”

Jason tenses up. He grits his teeth and he can feel his eyes start to glow. He steps forward menacingly, reaching for a gun that he only now realizes is on the coffee table and not in his holster. He shoves the fear down and growls, “What do you know about the Pits?”

*idioceta (ee-dýoh-keh-tah)- a word I made up combining the spanish words idiota and biblioteca. Means a library full of stupidity or a library worth of stupidity.

[ghostboybrainrot]

Out of Touch Part 2

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, AO3

Edit: I'm starting the process of transferring these to AO3. Click the link above to subscribe and get updates more reliably! (But don't worry I'll keep posting on Tumblr, too)

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It’s odd being invisible to the living world. Danny doesn’t have to put on a performance. He doesn’t have to awkwardly smile at strangers. He doesn’t have to monitor his facial expressions to make other people feel more comfortable. In a way it's nice. Freeing, even.

He didn't have to worry about people misconstruing his actions or his words. Assuming he had ulterior motives. Looking at him like he was weird for asking clarifying questions.

He wasn't judged for asking someone to explain a joke. He wasn't called rude and self-centered for sharing a similar experience when a friend was venting about their problems. He wanted to understand. He wanted to connect. But it felt like the way he did it was always wrong.

He'd been lucky to find friends who understood him. Who shared in his idiosyncrasies. 

He didn't have that anymore, but at least he didn't have to pretend either. It was a small victory, but he still counted it

Of course, his invisibility didn't affect the dead. They could see him just fine. And many do not like what they see. His ghost form had been shifting. He hadn’t made change consciously.

When he looked at himself he saw something sharper, something darker than he used to be. He wasn't happy about it but he didn't feel the need to dwell. This was who he was now. He didn't have any control over it.

If the other spirits he came across flinched away from him, he tried not to let it bother him. Spirits were just people. And he could deal with people.

Fortunately, most ghosts were too distracted by their own problems to pay him much mind. The shades floated around usually tethered to a specific location, sometimes a specific person. They interacted with things that were not there. They carried on conversations with themselves. If Danny attempted to talk to them, they would respond. He’d even held a decent conversation with a couple. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t seeing the same things he was. That their reality was much different than his. Once he’d finished talking, they’d continue about their business as though he wasn’t ever there. 

)-(

Danny had settled in an abandoned apartment near Park Row, or Crime Alley, as the locals called it. The building was only 3 stories. It had been condemned but had never gotten around to being torn down. It's not property investors were going to want to build something in it's place. Not in Crime Alley.

The bottom floor had been boarded up at one point but the boards on the back entrance had long since been pried off. Several squatters had made the bottom floor their temporary home. If they heard odd noises coming from the upper floor they ignored it.

Once, a man had come to the top floor to look around. He stepped carefully, testing his weight on the unstable floor. He checked the empty apartments. They’d long since been picked clean. When he neared the door at the end of the hall a chill shot up his spine. This door was closed, unlike the other three which had been swinging ajar before he’d arrived. Was someone already squatting in there? No one had mentioned it to him. He’d stayed here a few times now. Surely, if someone had already claimed the room, he’d have heard about it. He continued to approach the door. The cold sensation was worse the closer he got. He started shivering slightly and he could see his breath misting in front of him.

Weird. He swore it hadn’t been this cold outside earlier. How could it be so cold INSIDE. Maybe a window had been left open? That would explain why this door was closed. The wind had probably blown it shut. It had to be empty. No one would be able to stay in these freezing temperatures. 

If nothing else he should go and close the window. Wouldn’t want a draft to follow him downstairs. They needed to conserve the heat the best they could. 

He grasped the door knob. For a moment he worried his hand would stick to it. It was like holding a ball of ice. He attempted to turn it. Locked. 

He wasn’t sure why but he let go of the handle and raised his hand to knock on the door. Three short raps echoed in the empty hall. For a moment there was silence.

Then. Three short raps answered from the other side of the door.

He jumped back. Okay, someone was in there after all. Weirdo. Who the hell locked themselves in an abandoned freezing apartment. Before he could decide whether to tell this person off or just mind his business, he heard it again.

Three more knocks. These were much louder.

Suddenly there was a steady pounding on the door. It rattled from the impacts. The man’s heart leapt in his throat. He’d had enough. He started making his way back to the stairs. The pounding hadn’t stopped. If anything, it had gotten even louder. And closer! It was following him! It was coming from the walls in the hallway now. He could hear it coming from the other empty apartments. Everything was pounding. The whole building seemed to be shaking. He didn’t remember bolting but next thing he knew he was running down the stairs. Not paying attention to the cracks in the floor, as he had on the way up. He took 2 steps at a time. By the time he reached the bottom, the onslaught of sound had stopped. 

At first he didn't notice. He could still feel the pounding. It felt like the banging was coming from inside his head. It took him a moment to notice it was his own heartbeat hammering in his ears.

He spent several minutes at the bottom of the stairs, hands on his knees gasping for breath. After his heart finally slowed and his breath came easier, he went back to the room where he'd placed his sleeping bag.

He thought about packing it up. This place no longer felt safe. What if whatever it was followed him? 

He glanced at the door that led to the stairwell. If it were going to follow him it already would have. It was already late and this wasn't the first time he'd crashed here. And something told him, whatever it was, hadn't just arrived. He swallowed nervously. It had probably been above him this whole time.

He looked back down at his sleeping bag. He'd paused partway through rolling it up. Lost in thought. Finally, he decided to stay. At least for the night. He rolled it back out and got ready to get some rest. He was exhausted. The adrenaline from only 10 minutes prior had fled his system. Leaving his muscles weak and his brain foggy.

He wasn't going to be able to find a safer place this late. There were worse things than ghosts haunting the streets of Gotham at night.

If his upstairs neighbor didn’t want to be bothered. He just wouldn’t bother them.

—-

Danny felt a little guilty for scaring the guy. In the moment it had been exhilarating. Like playing a prank. After all, he had no intention of ACTUALLY harming him. He wasn't in danger. He just didn't want the guy poking his nose around his stuff.

But of course the man had no way of knowing Danny wasn't a threat. It wasn’t like Danny was going to jump out and yell 'Gotcha!' In fact, that probably would just scare the guy even more. 

Danny looked down at his hands. They were clouds of black smoke. The edges were fuzzy and undefined. His fingers were long and came to sharp points. 

Scary, he thought.

Before he could linger too long on that uncomfortable thought, Danny decided to make it up to the guy.

It took a while for the man to fall asleep, unsurprisingly. But Danny waited patiently.

)-(

When the man woke up the next day he found a few cans of soup, some clean socks, and a small pack of baby wipes. It had been stacked neatly next to his backpack. Clearly, it had been left for him. He looked around but no one else had come to join him in the night and the door to the room was still locked.

He didn’t mention the interaction to anyone. And none of the other squatters mentioned it either. He knew they had to have heard it. The pounding that shook the building. He knew he hadn’t imagined it. Even if he had, it didn’t explain the food left in a locked room in the middle of the night. 

He decided whatever this entity was. It wasn’t kicking him out. Just expressing a boundary. He could handle that. As long as he left the apartment upstairs alone, he should be fine.

Hopefully.

)-(

Danny hoped the guy would see the gifts as an olive branch. He thought about leaving a note, but decided against it. It was one thing to insinuate that the building was haunted. It was another thing, entirely, to come right out and say it. 

Hey I'm the ghost that haunts the upper floors! Sorry to give you a fright. Here's some food as an apology just stay out of my area, okay? 

Thanks!

He smiled at the thought. It'd be funny but l would just bring more attention to him. The last thing he needed was other people finding his haunt. A note was tangible. The guy could show others. More people would want to investigate. Without any concrete proof, people were less likely to believe him.

Danny did not want to have to move, especially when he had just gotten settled.

He’d just gotten running water. It had taken a lot of time and effort but he'd finally figured out how to turn the water back on.. He'd had to phase through a lot of walls holding a flashlight in his teeth. It had taken a week of following pipes around and messing with valves, but he’d done it! Granted, when he first got it, it still went out randomly and it wasn't hot or even warm. But it was a start.

Now getting electricity, that had been much harder. He wasn't an electrical engineer. He felt uncomfortable with the idea of trying to mess with high voltage wires. Getting electrocuted again, scared him more than he'd ever admit, even to himself.

Eventually, he settled for a small generator. He'd pilfered it from a big chain farming supply shop several miles outside of Gotham. It was a pain lugging it all the way back. It wasn’t that he was too weak to carry it, but it had been very awkward to hold.

He set it up on the roof above his apartment. Feeding the wire down into the apartments poking holes through walls. It didn’t look professional but it worked. 

The best part was that he’d gotten a model powerful enough to run the old hot water heater.

Danny hadn't taken a hot bath in months. The closest he got was taking quick showers in the 24 hour gym down the street. He'd go in the middle of the night after patrol when no one was around. But he tried not to linger in case someone decided to do an early morning workout. Those showers were more functional than relaxing. 

He didn't need to bathe that often, anyway. He spent more time in his ghost form than his living form and he didn't sweat when he was dead. He'd been getting by on baby wipes and paper towel baths at the sink in public restrooms.

So, when he finally had an opportunity to have a real bath. He decided to treat himself.

He lit a couple tealight candles and set them on the counter. He turned out the lights. The bath/shower combo wasn't very deep but fortunately Danny wasn't a very tall teenager. For the first time he counted himself lucky that dying had stunted his growth.

He had swiped a bath bomb from a dollar store a few blocks away. He'd never used one before but he figured he should at least try one to get the full relaxing bath experience. He drew himself a warm bath and dropped the lavender-scented bomb into it.

As soon as he sunk into  the water he immediately felt himself start to drift. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this relaxed. He closed his eyes and was asleep within minutes. 

)-(

Danny was having a bad night. 

Nights? He wasn’t sure. 

He’d gotten carried away again. He felt that familiar tug at his stomach. He wasn’t sure for how long. He knew he needed to stop. To take a break. At least grab a drink or something to eat. But he knew if he stopped, if he switched forms, he'd be too exhausted to switch back. 

He just kept telling himself one more. Just one more person to save. Just one more person to stop. And then he would rest.

As he neared his apartment he felt his form stutter. 

Oh no.

Just a little bit farther. He could still make it! The form continued to stutter. He felt gravity pulling on him. He couldn't keep flying like this.

He looked for a place he could land. There was an empty alley below him. Only 50 feet or so ahead. He angled his descent. But he was falling too fast. His ghost form continued to flicker, petering out 20 feet above the ground. He plummeted, reaching out trying to find purchase on the side of the building. Only managing to scrape his palm. He hit the ground on his side, with a soft thud.

He groaned. He had definitely broken something. His earlier exhaustion had been replaced with sheer terror as he'd fallen. This was the only thing allowing him the energy to push up off the pavement. He sat in the alley wincing with every movement. He took inventory. His shoulder was bruised as hell. He'd, also, bruised his ribs, breaking at least one. He was lucky he was so resilient. Falling from that height would have been much worse if he wasn't already half-dead.

He tried to pull himself to his feet. His leg buckled under the weight and he fell back on his backside. He'd definitely messed up his knee. He reached down to palpate around the joint. It was tender and he could already tell it was starting to swell.

Great.

He pulled himself up again favoring the side that hadn't impacted the ground. He braced himself against the wall of the building. His vision swam. He realized it probably had more to do with the fact that his blood sugar was dangerously low than his injuries. 

After a couple minutes, his vision began to clear and he could take in his surroundings. 

Good news, he knew where he was. He was close to his apartment. Bad news, his apartment was in crime alley. And he had a couple blocks and two flights of stairs before he could get to it.

Danny did not like his chances of getting there unscathed. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem. He could just switch to ghost form and fly straight there. But seeing as how he'd already been doing that, and he'd fallen from the sky. He didn't think this was going to be an option.

He tried anyway. Focusing hard on fading into his phantasmal form. He felt the barest hint of a flicker but no transformation came. 

Figures. 

The adrenaline from the fall had worn off, at this point. He was feeling woozy again. His exhaustion and hunger hitting him full force. 

The ground next to a nearby dumpster started to look very enticing. His eyes were drooping. He had enough awareness left to know if he was going to pass out he needed to hide.

It wasn't the first time he'd had to take an impromptu nap in an alley. Usually, he found a cozy dumpster to crawl in to sleep it off. Bit his leg was too injured and he was too weak to pull himself up. 

Behind the dumpster would have to do.

He kept his hand against the wall as he stumbled forward, ignoring the pain in his palm from the scrape, he'd suffered during the fall. He wondered, dully, if it was a bad idea to be rubbing an open wound on a grimey building. Probably not, but he'd have to worry about that later.

He felt like he was moving through molasses. As he rounded the side of the dumpster he looked back, making sure no one was watching. Satisfied he was alone, he tucked himself into the corner behind it. He was already pretty small. It didn't take much to pull his hood over his head and pull his knees to his chest. He pulled a few loose pieces of plastic and cardboard over him. With that and his grimey clothes he was pretty sure it would be hard to spot him. At least, in the dark.

Certain this was as good as it was going to get, he closed his eyes and fell immediately into a dreamless sleep.

He hadn't noticed the figure in the dark when he'd fallen. He hadn't noticed its eyes watching him as he pulled himself up and limped toward the dumpster. And, he didn't notice as the figure approached the sleeping boy.

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Sorry to anyone who was waiting for me to update my Ghost Zone Amity fic! This one was making my brain itch so this is the one you get.

I love getting comments! Keep them coming. Who do you think found Danny? Is it one of the bats? Is it a rogue? Let me know what you think so far!

Tags:

@alinmenttreasure @quirky-gardener @mnemovoid @amercurio @may-rbi

@allmune @i-havenothingelsetopost @kittenline @alienzil

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 6

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,800 Warnings: Angst, fluff, and some supernatural shenanigans.

Part 6: Trust Building

After you showered and dressed in a clean shirt and yoga pants, you felt refreshed but still somewhat anxious. You don’t have anything to be nervous about, you tried to remind yourself.

You finally met him. His name is Dean. He seems…nice.

A soft smile grew on your face when you thought of how he’d looked over your injuries in concern. How he’d seemed just as nervous as you, but was familiar in his teasing and gentle when he’d helped you up the stairs.

He seemed to be a decent guy. But so had Danny Schmitt.

That thought made you shudder. Those horrific memories of last night tried to surface, but you stubbornly shoved them down by covering your eyes with your hands and letting out a few deep breaths.

When you’d calmed down, you released your trembling hands. That’s it, you decided. You were going downstairs. You were going to go crazy if you stayed up here in this room.

…Plus, you were getting hungry.

Things were probably going to get awkward fast, but you were up for it. You didn’t want to be rude to your uncle, and you wanted to get know Dean and his brother Sam.

So you carefully descended the stairs, trying not to freeze in place when all three men paused in their conversation to look at you. You gave a little wave.

“How’re you feelin’?” Bobby asked.

“I’m okay.” You joined Sam and Dean on the couch once they made room for you. Bobby sat in a rickety chair across from them, with a coffee table full of old, open books in between. What kind of book club were these guys having?

You shared a small smile with Dean, who seemed to take a brief moment to look you over. You noticed his gaze lingered on your yoga pants. But smoothly his eyes returned to your face. He inhaled and looked curious.

“What’s that, apples?” he asked. You blinked in confusion, until you realized what he meant: your body wash. To be fair, it did have a strong smell.

“Oh, apple spice.” You nodded. “Good guess!”

Dean grinned a little. “It’s nice.”

Sitting on his other side, Sam rested an elbow on the couch’s arm. He hid a smile behind his hand, while Bobby just rolled his eyes.

“All right, well dinner’s on the way,” your uncle said. “Hope you like Chinese.”

You were just about to reply affirmatively when your phone buzzed on the coffee table. With a quick glance, you saw who it was and frowned. Dad.

“That’s been going off non-stop for the past ten minutes,” Dean said.

“Yeah,” you sighed, and went to pick up the phone. “Hi, Dad.”

You felt guilty about taking off from Jody’s house without telling anyone, but in fairness, you’d left her a note. Your dad was stern and quick to reproach you.

“You can’t just take off like that. You had me looking over the whole damn town for you!” said Jack.

Your lips pressed together. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going, but now you know where I am. I’m safe.”

Jack started to interject, but you cut in before he could start giving you orders.

“Tell Jody I’m sorry, but I’m comfortable here,” you said, glancing up at Bobby, and then at Sam and Dean.

“…Fine. The house should be back to normal in a couple of days. If you leave Bobby’s house for any reason, you call me,” Jack said.

Like you were a child.

“Fine,” you snapped and hung up the phone. Then you looked up at the men, who all looked away as if they hadn’t been listening.

“Sorry,” you added. “My dad’s a bit…overprotective.”

“I mean…can you really blame him right now?” Dean asked. “I get it, you ditched your babysitter. But not for nothing, I’d probably react the same way.”

His face was more serious, devoid of the flirtatious teasing from before. Your hackles started to rise as he took your dad’s side…until you realized that he meant well. Through the connection that bonded your soul with his, what you felt most was his concern for you. 

And, he might actually have a point.

You just weren’t willing to acknowledge that just yet.

You tried to get to know Sam more too. You learned that he’d gone to college at Stanford for pre-law, and that he’d planned to be a lawyer. When you asked why he didn’t go for it, he and Dean got quiet.

That’s when the takeout finally came. You sensed it was a sensitive topic, so you didn’t push it.

The four of you ate while Sam and Dean traded off telling childhood stories and motel room antics, most of which made you laugh.

But you became sad when you realized what Dean had told you once was true: he and Sam had been raised on the open road. They hadn’t truly had a home since Dean was five years old, and Sam had been just an infant, after their mother died.

“The house burned down,” Dean explained, but you had a feeling there was more to the story. You sensed it in his guarded emotions—both in his body language and through your bond.

“Nice ring,” he remarked, noting the flash of silver on your right hand. You gave him a closer look and he took the opportunity to take your hand. You tried (and failed) not to blush.

“My mom’s,” you said, your eyes lowering. “She…died when I was around fourteen.”

Dean sighed and released your hand. “I’m sorry.”

You knew he understood how you felt. He’d lost his mom too.

“What about your dad?” you asked.

Sam and Dean shared a brief glance before Dean replied. “He’s still around. He started the family business, so he travels a lot too.”

“I see.” You were very curious to meet their dad. If he was anything like Dean, then that man was sure to be interesting.

After a while more of eating and talking, Bobby wished you goodnight and went up to his room. Sam returned to the living room to set up his sleeping spot on the recliner, leaving you and Dean to clear the dining table and wash the dishes together.

“So your dad’s a cop, huh?” Dean asked.

You nodded. “Yep. Hence the overprotective bit.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell him about our…” Here Dean raised his brows. “Situation?”

You smiled in amusement. “Honestly, yeah. It just…didn’t feel like the right time to tell him about us. When you meet him, you’ll understand.”

“I get it. My dad’s not always a picnic either, but he’s a good man,” Dean said. “Your dad seems to be too.”

“Except he doesn’t want me here,” you said. “He’s got this…thing with my uncle. I can’t figure it out.”

Dean seemed to remember something. “Yeah, Bobby was sayin’ something like that. They had a falling out a while back?”

“I think it started when my aunt died,” you admitted. You were seven, and Aunt Karen had been your dad’s younger sister. You didn’t remember her that well, but you had a warm memory of her making pies for every season: pumpkin and apple for fall, blueberry for winter, strawberry and rhubarb for spring, and peach for summer.

“I’ve asked Bobby about it, but he’s not really the sharing type,” you said.

“Yeah, fair enough,” Dean said. It made you look over at him with some curiosity.

Dean was becoming something of an enigma to you. In some ways, he could be incredibly straightforward and kind in how he looked after you and asked about your life. But any time you asked about his family, about his past, about his job, he would pull back from you.

It made you nervous. What the hell is he hiding?

But it also made you determined to find out more. Now that you’d found him, you weren’t going to let him go so easily.

After the table was cleared and the dishes were done, you realized just how tired you were. Even your head was starting to ache.

Dean might’ve heard your thoughts (you had to get better at controlling that), because he looked you over in an assessing way.

“Hey, you should probably get some sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day, sweetheart.”

Even that small nickname made you blush again. Dean noticed, smiling. You purposefully looked away and called out to his brother.

“Goodnight, Sam.”

He looked up from the book he was reading and smiled at you. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

You returned his smile before returning your gaze to Dean. He crossed his arms expectantly, a grin playing at his lips. “My turn?”

You uttered a laugh. Gaining some courage, you leaned up on your toes, rested a hand on his shoulder, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Sweet dreams, you added mentally, then you turned to climb up the stairs.

See you tomorrow, he replied. It made you pause on the stairs and turn back to him with a soft smile.

Then, Dean watched you go up the rest of the way to make sure you were all right. He did his best to clamp down on his mixed emotions, so you wouldn’t sense them. When he turned around, he found Sam wearing a knowing grin.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I just never thought I’d see you like this.”

Dean rolled his eyes and sat on the other end of the couch. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, then rubbed at his face with both hands. Sam sat down next to him and dropped a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m glad, Dean. You deserve this,” he said.

Do I? Dean thought. “You know we’ve got a job to do.”

“…Yeah,” Sam said with a sigh. He was conflicted too. He wanted to give his brother the time and space to enjoy this, to spend time with you, but they still had to find their dad—and the Yellow-Eyed demon that killed Jess, and their mom.

Still, this was important.

“Why don’t you go up and talk to her?” he suggested, nodding up the stairs.

Dean frowned. “She’s going to bed.”

“Even if it’s five minutes,” Sam said. “Don’t waste any more time, Dean. Do something.”

So Dean went up to your room, and he knocked.

You opened the door a few moments later, but you hadn’t changed clothes yet. Sensing more than hearing his anxious thoughts had kept you puttering around the room, straightening things up, brushing your hair, trying to find something to wear for bed. You just didn’t know how to reach out and comfort him, or even if you should.

But you smiled when you saw him.

“Can I help you, sir?” you teased.

“Just for a minute,” he said, once you let him into the room. “You can kick me out whenever.”

You beckoned him to sit with you on the edge of your bed. You and Dean sat in silence for a moment, both of you trying to think of something to say.

“This is hard, isn’t it?” you said. Dean let out a breathy chuckle, his shoulders sagging a bit in relief. He looked over at you.

“Somehow, thought it’d be easier,” he said.

“Okay, let’s just get this out of the way. We’re basically strangers. Let’s stop focusing on the cosmic bond part of it all, and just try to get to know each other,” you suggested. 

Dean saw the logic there.

“Sounds good to me,” he said. He reached out and tucked your hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing the side of your face.

A blush dusted your cheeks. “You like doing that.”

“You don’t seem to mind.”

“Not really, no,” you admitted with a smile. Dean returned it, before his expression became more serious again.

“Hey, can you answer something honest for me real quick?” he asked.

“Okay.” Though you wondered where this was going.

“Are you okay?”

You folded your hands in your lap and stared down. “Yeah. I feel fine, Dean. Really.”

“Not what I meant,” he said. You felt his concern through your bond, encouraging you to look up at him.

“I get it if you don’t, but if you need to talk about what happened last night…” He let the thought hang off, giving you the space to decline if you wanted to, or if you weren’t ready. You sensed that he was willing to listen to you, and actually, that he genuinely wanted to know.

Well, that you could believe. He seemed to be the protective type.

You sighed; as much as you didn’t want to think about what happened, flashes of those memories were already resurfacing behind your eyes.

“It happened so fast,” you began. People always said that in the movies, but it was true.

“I got home late. I was…talking with you. As soon as I set my things down in the living room, he grabbed me from behind, dragged me into the kitchen for some reason…” You took a breath. “When I had enough wits about me to start fighting back, that’s when he used my head for basketball practice on the counter.”

Dean was quiet while you spoke. He was trying to keep his darker thoughts from spilling into his connection with you, but that was a feat in itself.

It was a good thing for him that Danny Schmitt was already dead.

“I saw the kitchen knives, but before I knew it I was on the ground,” you continued, though it was difficult to steep yourself in those wild, thrashing moments. Being pinned down, not being able to call for help or reach anything that could help you.

Your hand went to the bruises on your throat. “I couldn’t breathe…then I’m…not sure what happened. Maybe I got some adrenaline-fueled, Hulk Hogan-type strength, because the next thing I knew, I was looking down at Danny’s body. And the kn-knife, somehow I…”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you started to lose your grip, but Dean reached for your hand, squeezing yours. That, and sensing his supportive presence in your mind, gave you something solid to ground you as you breathed through it.

As was your habit, you twirled your mom’s ring around your finger.

“Danny?” Dean asked.

“Y-Yeah. We went to high school together,” you explained. “He was an idiot then. He got his fingers caught in the automatic stapler. How do you go from that to psycho-killer spree?”

Dean gave you an amused look, but he gave you an honest answer.

“Some people are born bad. Some people do bad things once in a while, and regret it,” he said. “Some people got evil shit on their mind, but don’t got the confidence to actually pull the trigger. Until they do.”

You let out a deep breath as you nodded.

“I just…Dean, I don’t remember grabbing the knife,” you confessed. “But it makes me wonder…what the hell else am I capable of?”

Dean could understand that, better than most. He let you lean into him and drew you close as you finally allowed yourself to let go. You felt bad for dampening his shirt with your tears, but you relished in his comfort and the safety of his arms.

Until both of you shivered. It felt like the room had dropped ten degrees all of a sudden.

Dean got an awfully familiar, suspicious feeling.

“Aw, shit,” he said.

“What?” you asked nervously. Your bedside lamp flickered, and somehow a draft kicked up into the room.

Dean got you to stand up by the elbows and grabbed your hand, heading for the door. It swung closed in your faces, making you gasp.

“Shit,” he repeated.

Your looked up at him in fear. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Whatever happens, just stay close to me.” Dean’s voice was firm, authoritative. It was fair to say you clung to his arm. Maybe that made you the quintessential damsel in distress, but to be fair, you were definitely in distress right about now. You didn’t have a clue what was happening, but Dean seemed to.

Then a strong gust of wind pulled him away from you and threw him into the large wooden dresser across the room. You watched in alarm, but you eventually made yourself move to go and help him.

That’s when a strange mirage glitched and appeared in front of you, startling you. It was a woman, maybe in her late-thirties. She looked familiar, but before you could focus on her face, Dean’s fist swiped through the mirage and made it disappear.

You looked up at him in shock. He was a bit banged up with a couple of scratches on his arm, but he held what looked like the iron handle from one of the dresser drawers he’d smashed into. You touched his arm, and your mind blazed with questions that you were finally able to express.

“Are you okay? What the hell was that? What—”

“All right, for right now just follow my lead, okay?” he said. He grabbed your hand and tried opening the door. It was locked. Damn it.

Sam called from the other side.

“Hey, you guys okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’ve got us a ghost,” said Dean.

“What?” you exclaimed. As in Casper?

Dean sighed. “I’ll explain later. Move away from the door, Sammy.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

In one powerful move, Dean kicked through the door and broke the lock. You and Dean escaped the room, but your eyes widened as you pointed behind Sam. “Watch out!”

The woman was there again. Now you could see that she wore a white blouse with small flowers on them, and a long, dark skirt that seemed to glide across the floor. You realized that you recognized the shade of her hair, the shape of her face and features—many of them were similar to your own.

You felt like the air had fled from your lungs, all while your heart constricted painfully. Dean’s head swiveled toward you; he’d picked up on the shift in your emotions through your connection.

“Mom?” you uttered.

A gun shot rang out, making the vision of your mother scream angrily, and then disappear. Behind her was Bobby with a shotgun full of rock salt.

“All right, let’s get downstairs,” he said.

The four of you ran down quick to the ground floor. The lights continued to flicker as you went, and a draft followed you through the living room where the fireplace crackled with life. You watched as Sam went and got cannisters of salt from the kitchen and started drawing a large circle of salt around you all. Meanwhile, Dean grabbed the iron poker from the fireplace.

“Okay, will someone please explain what the fuck is going on already?” you asked. “Why am I seeing my mom?”

And why is she trying to kill us?

Sam and Dean shared a look before the latter sighed and met your wide-eyed stare.

“Like I said, she’s a ghost. Yeah, they’re real. Salt keeps them away, iron fends them off,” he explained. “Temporary fixes though. The only way to get rid of a ghost is to burn its old body’s bones.”

That was a lot of crazy information to absorb in all of thirty seconds. Dean laid his hands on your shoulders to get your attention, and to ground you.

“Where is she buried?” he asked.

“The cemetery,” you said tremulously. “Don’t say you’re gonna dig up my mom, Dean.”

His face twisted in apology. “That’s kinda where this is going, yeah.”

You were a tad bit horrified.

“But wait, you can’t,” you realized. “They buried her ashes.”

Sam, Dean, and Bobby all shared a similar frown. Damn it.

The ghost of your mother, Christine, reappeared just a few feet away and startled a scream out of you. The four of you stood within the salt circle, but that didn’t stop her. Her dark eyes were focused on the men as she created a gust of wind to blow the salt circle away.

Bobby shot off a salt round from his gun and made her disappear for a few seconds. But she was getting tenacious. She reappeared moments later to continue whittling at the salt line.

“Why is she coming after us?” you exclaimed.

“Some spirits don’t pass onto greener pastures if they feel like they’ve got too much to leave behind,” Bobby explained. “After a while, they start to lose their grip on…well, reality.”

“They turn vengeful,” Sam supplied. “Poltergeists, hauntings—”

“But why would she go after me?” you asked. You buried your hands in your hair and closed your eyes. Maybe you could block all of this out and pretend it wasn’t happening. “This can’t be real!”

“Hey,” Dean said. He grabbed your arms just tight enough to break you out of your spiral. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “This is real. It’s happening. Somehow your mom’s ghost is tethered to something else, because I think she followed you here.”

“Followed me?”

“From your house,” Dean said. He was leading you somewhere—with his tone and his eyes.

You gasped at as hit you.

The impossible knife stabbing of Danny Schmitt.

You hadn’t been anywhere near the kitchen knives. You’d been pinned down while slowly choking to death. It hadn’t been adrenaline. There really was no way you could’ve reached them.

“She…she killed Danny.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “Trust me, I know, because this is my job.”

“This is what you do for a living?” You were damn near hysterics.

He offered you a helpless grin. “And it don’t even come with health insurance.”

“He’s right, there’s something else keeping her here,” Bobby said. He looked at you. “Do you have anything of hers?”

“No, I—” You’d started toying with your ring before it dawned on you with a gasp. Dean looked down at your hand and came to the same conclusion.

“It’s the ring,” he said. “We need to burn it n—”

Dean couldn’t finish his thought, because Christine reappeared behind him and threw him several feet away. The iron poker in his hand clattered away from him. She turned to Sam and Bobby next.

Before either one could shoot off a salt round, Christine raised a hand, commanding a desk to shove them against a large bookcase. They had to shield their heads as books fell off the shelves and thudded to the ground.

Christine stopped when she turned to you. Instead of attacking, she raised her hand out to you. Your eyes widened.

“Mom?”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t look at you with the same anger and menace as she had to the men.

“She’s not after you,” Sam said, with a tilt of his head. “She’s trying to protect you.”

He was still stuck with Bobby, while Dean was also pinned against the wall by the force of Christine’s will. He had enough autonomy to raise his head and meet your eyes with urgency.

“Toss the ring in the fireplace,” he told you. “Do it now!”

Your limbs were frozen in place. It was almost like being attacked by Danny; you could see the knives, but you couldn’t make yourself grab one. This time, you didn’t want to.

“I can’t!” You shook your head adamantly.

“I get it,” Dean said. He was struggling to break free of the ghost’s hold, gritting his teeth. “But you need to put your mom to rest. It’s the ring or your life. Throw that thing into Mount Doom!”

You looked up at Christine, and at times you could see through her spirit-like body. She wasn’t really there, nor was she supposed to be here.

Right now you were poor old Mrs. Jenkins, clutching your pearls.

So you ran to the fireplace. But the moment you fell to your knees there, a strong gust of wind blew out the flames. You gasped and turned to see that your mother was there, and she was now angry with you for trying to destroy her.

Frantically you searched for something to keep her away. What you found was Dean’s iron poker.

“That’s it, stick it right through her!” Dean guided you. Inside he was desperate to help you, but he instinctively buried it under the practiced focus of a hunter.

Your hands closed around the iron and you swung it like a baseball bat, making Christine’s spirit dissolve. Sam then called your name and showed you a lighter in his hand. He threw it towards you, but it bounced through your hands and scattered across the floor.

“For God’s sake,” you muttered frantically. You all but dove onto your hands and knees to scramble after the lighter.

“Watch out!” Dean shouted.

With a gasp, you twisted to face Christine again. This time, she commanded a chef’s knife from the kitchen.

“Mom!” you tried. While she heard you, she didn’t acknowledge what she was doing. Her face was twisted with a truly evil expression—one that you’d never seen on your mother when she lived.

The knife turned in mid-air. Then it spiraled toward you.

You instinctively covered your face with your arms and shouted. “Stop, Mom. Please!”

The room was deadly quiet.

Slowly, you realized you were still alive, if breathing heavily. You opened your eyes and lowered your arms a bit. The knife hadn’t pierced you, but it was still hovering in front your face. You remained very still when you looked up at Christine.

Her face revealed her shock. The evil dregs of death had melted away, revealing your mother as she was. As she had been in your fourteen-year-old memory.

Her expression softened into regret and sadness. The knife fell away from you and clattered to the ground. You let out a relieved breath and laid a hand over your wild beating heart.

Then it was Sam, Dean, and Bobby’s turn to feel relieved. Christine released them from her hold, and Sam and Bobby pushed the desk away from them while Dean rolled the kinks out of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” said Christine. Her voice was familiar, and also sounded overlaid with many whispered voices. Tears pooled in your eyes, but your hand closed over the lighter you found at your side.

You toyed with your ring and glanced at Dean. He gave you an encouraging nod.

“Do it, honey,” your mom said.

Shakily, you got to your feet and went back over to the fireplace. You used the lighter to reignite the wood, but once you took the ring off your finger, you hesitated.

A hand rested on your shoulder, and your tearful eyes met Dean’s sympathetic ones.

It’s okay. You can do this, he told you through the soul bond.

With a deep, shuddering breath, you nodded and let go of your mother’s wedding ring. It took a while, but eventually the silver started to melt.

Your mom’s spirit dissipated with a smile on her face.

The aftermath of that night was difficult, to say the least. The guest bedroom you were supposed to sleep in had a broken door, but the guys had helped you get it back on its hinges, more or less. You all agreed to leave cleaning up the house for tomorrow, as there were only a few hours left in the night anyway.

The way you felt…well, there weren’t really words for that. You laid in bed in a worn-out, oversized shirt you found in the damaged dresser. Your body was exhausted in every way. Your mind, however, was wide awake.

So was Dean’s. He stared up at the wall from his place on the couch, downstairs. Through the bond, he could feel the many shifts in your fraught emotions. It was keeping him awake too, mostly out of concern.

He tried to take hold of that thread of energy and send you something reassuring, even if it was just his presence and not his words. Because what could he say, anyway?

He sensed that you accepted the connection. He felt your gratefulness, despite the rest of it.

Do you want to come up here? you asked.

It surprised Dean, but his reaction was…conflicted. After tonight, part of him wanted to keep some distance between you and himself. His job attracted even more supernatural batshit insanity than a vengeful spirit. He didn’t want you to get caught up in that…

But a larger part of Dean couldn’t deny you, either.

I’ll be right there, he said.

Without waking up Sam on the recliner, Dean got off the couch and climbed up the stairs towards your room.

AN: Congrats to @spnexploration for figuring out the impossible stabbing of Danny Schmitt! You guessed it right on your first try. But I hope the clues I left were subtle enough lol.

Now that the reader knows about the supernatural, let's see what she and Dean get up to upstairs...

To keep reading: PART 7

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A huge thank you to everyone commenting and reblogging and overall engaging with this story! I didn't think it would end up being this long lol. But there's more to come soon!

If you like this, follow me for more SPN fics (and other fandoms). I'm also on Ao3!

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Phantom of Gotham 13

Chapter 12

Meanwhile, Jason and Tim met up in the cave after Danny had gone to bed early. “How come you weren’t at dinner?” Tim asked casually. Jason sent him a look. 

“Wanted to look over the newest case,”Jason grunted. “Goldie and the old man took down Mr. Freeze trying to bring that blizzard to Gotham. So, the snow should be letting up soon.”

Tim nodded absently.”And that means Danny’ll be leaving soon.” 

“Bingo,”Jason grunted. “We know the kid is involved with Phantom somehow, and most likely has some kind of meta abilities. There’s no telling exactly what he can do, but it’s possible that he could be one of the Halfas that Phantom’s been protecting.”

Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “We could ask Phantom? If we come out and ask him about Danny he might help us help the kid. Or at least keep him off the streets. You said there’s more than the Fentons hunting them?”

“The GIW and the Fentons are hunting ghosts like Phantom. Apparently they don’t know about Halfas, but that could change. We don’t know why Danny left Amity Park, and if any of it is because of Phantom,”Jason said. The two of them thought for a moment before Jason spoke up. “I think we should talk to Phantom.”

“Yeah,”Tim sighed. “We’ve already determined that he’s an ally, so it’s a good chance that he’ll let us help now that we know most of the details. It might help segue to the whole treaty between the Infinite Realms and Earth thing that I’ve been working on.”

“Alright. Suit up then and we can try to find Phantom. Maybe we should get him a phone now so we can get ahold of him,”Jason grumbled. 

“Anyone else coming?” Tim asked, glancing around. He wasn’t sure if Burce even knew about their plans or much about Danny in general. 

“I hope not,”Jason grumbled, steering Tim toward the cave locker rooms. “B’s got his hands full with some stupid Gala in a few days anyway. So have fun going to that later,” Jason joked. 

Tim groaned. “Maybe I can use Danny as an excuse to miss it. We have a lot of information to go over and plan for. I doubt Bruce would care if I came anyway as long as Damian joins him.”

Jason snorted. “He’ll have his hands full with the demon brat, you’re probably safe.”

“We can only hope,”Tim sighed. 

-------------------------------------

Three hours later, Danny woke up refreshed and ready to blow off some energy. Looking at the time, he was happy to note that it was only 10, just in time for the Gotham vigilantes to start their patrols. If he was fast he could probably catch up to them, he thought. 

Danny pulled the covers back and stood up to stretch, relishing in the sickening pops coming from his back. Jazz had always shuddered and gave him a look of horror whenever he did it in front of her. He bit back a smile just picturing her face. Then he frowned at the thought. It’d been so long since he’d seen Jazz. 

Shaking his head, he put the thoughts behind him as he transformed and flew out of the manor invisibly. Danny distracted himself with loops and twirls until he spotted a speck of red on the roof of a building. Still invisible, he glided down and saw Red Robin and Red Hood quietly discussing something on the rooftop. Feeling mischievous, Danny hovered right next to Red Robin and phased a hand through his shoulder. 

Red Robin gave a full body shiver, grimacing at the sudden chill. “Phantom?” He called. Red Hood seemed to perk up at this. Danny hummed, the noise sounding like an echo. 

“Uh, we need to talk to you,”Red Robin hedged, and Danny made a questioning noise. At this point he trusted the vigilantes to not turn him in to the GIW or hunt him down. Not so much Batman, but Red Hood he especially trusted.. 

“It’s about Danny Fenton,”Red Hood cut in impatiently. Danny froze, his core thrummed with chills at the name. 

Abruptly, Phantom dropped his invisibility, floating closer to the two startled vigilantes.”How do you know that name?” He demanded. Were they looking into him? Why? Did the GIW come to Gotham? “Is he in danger?” 

“No, no, he’s fine. He’s safe,”Red Robin reassured. “We’ve just.. Noticed a few worrisome things about him and uh,”Red Robin trailed off. Phantom narrowed his eyes at him.

“Is he the Halfa you’ve been protecting here?” Red Hood asked. Danny pursed his lips, nodding hesitatingly. “Okay, thank you for telling us. We’re trying to protect him, but some things about his behavior is a bit worrisome.”

They were watching him? Danny thought abruptly. He was pretty sure he’d only met Red Hood as Danny. The only people who really had the chance to observe him were the Waynes. Did they tell on him to the vigilantes? Did they know? Danny floated around them cautiously. “What do you mean?” 

“How does being a halfa affect his health? He doesn’t eat much, he barely sleeps but he looks tired the time, and he has a slower than normal heart rate and body temperature,”Red Robin listed, much to Danny’s surprise. “Is that normal for a halfa? Can he get sick? Does medication work on him?” He continued to ramble. 

Oh. Danny’s eyes widened. They were worried about him. That was… something he was admittedly not used to, but also made his core thrum with warmth. If anything they sounded like the Wayne’s when they were trying to get him to eat. He took a breath of relief and straightened. “He’s okay, promise,”Danny reassured, holding his hands out with his palms towards them. “Halfas are more or less an unfamiliar species, so we don’t know exactly what his baseline is supposed to be. From what the medical ghosts in the Realms observed-” Or what Frostbite had-” he normally has a lower body temperature, heart rate, and doesn’t need to sleep or breathe as often as a regular human. It affects his appetite to where he doesn’t really feel hungry anymore, so we aren’t sure if he still needs to eat human food or just absorb ectoplasm or emotions, but we have been keeping an eye on it.” Danny explained. He was definitely lying about keeping an eye on it though. Absently, he thought maybe he should go see Frostbite for a checkup. He’d only been there a few times when he’d been really sick, like with his core developing. Other than that though, he’s never been sick with things he used to before he turned ghost.

“Okay, that… makes sense. Half ghost would probably mean lessened functions of his body,”Red Robin rambled, typing on his computer. Danny being not only half dead but also a different species is definitely going to make medical treatment difficult, Tim thought absently. Though some of the symptoms were reminiscent of Jason’s back when he still had the pit rage inside him. Though there were a lot of differences, like that Jason had a higher body temperature than normal instead. “Making sure he eats enough is probably the most important concern..”He trailed off and continued typing. 

“What would we do if he gets hurt, or sick?” Red Hood cut in. He kind of reminded Danny of Jason for a moment. Very direct, but still concerned. 

“He heals a bit faster than usual humans, and uh. His blood is a bit… ghostly? Radioactive maybe? His molecules sort of got rearranged during the.. When he became a halfa,”Danny said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was not doing a great job of explaining this. To be fair though, he’d only found out most of these things by trial and error. Once he’d gotten blood on his jeans once and it burned a hole through the fabric after a few hours. “So don’t touch his blood directly just in case. Medication doesn’t really work on him unless it’s from the Infinite Realms, but we haven’t really been able to test it on anything stronger in the human realm. And uh, I guess stitches don’t work well on him either. They dissolve,”Phantom concluded, and the two vigilantes looked mildly concerned at the information. 

“Alright, so possibility of meta-level medication working on him, radioactive blood, and no stitches. Got it,”Red Robin noted. The other two could tell he was thinking through a bunch of options in his head. 

“You said he became a halfa?” Red Hood asked lowly. Danny bit his lip, fangs poking his lip harder than usual. 

“Halfas are… rare,”Danny started hesitantly. He wasn’t sure how much he should share, but they seemed to have good intentions. “You have to understand that if the GIW know how a halfa is made they’ll just try to create more, right? It’s not a painless process and halfas can be dangerous. I don’t want this information out and have more portals to the Zone showing up.”

“A portal?” Red Robin’s attention snapped back to Phantom at the mention. “Don’t the Fenton’s have a portal?”

“Listen,” Hood cut in. “This information won’t get out, and we’ll respect any boundaries you have with Danny. We only asked in case Danny had any specific traumas related to it. I know dying isn’t pleasant, so I can’t imagine what it took to become half dead all the time.”

“Ah,”Phantom grimaced. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Should he tell them? They’re helping him so far, but what if they just want to know for bad reasons? Danny shook his head, dispelling the thoughts. No, they were worried about Danny’s health and well-being, and haven’t pressed about anything else. His core hummed and he felt like he could trust them. “Yeah. He uh… The Fenton’s portal… it didn’t work until Danny tried fixing it, and it… turned on with him inside,” He said quietly. Red Robin and Hood were silent, but he could see Red Robin’s lips turn into a thin line. Hood on the other hand had clenched his fists together so hard his gloves made a slight creaking sound. “But uh, the other halfas happened more slowly. With Danny it was instant.” 

Red Hood was silent for a moment while Red Robin peppered Phantom with more questions. “So his parents- the Fentons- they didn’t know he was a halfa? And they hunted ghosts. Is that why he left?”

“Yep,”Phantom said, trying not to think too much about it. “M- Maddie and Jack found out and long story short he’s hanging in Gotham until… well until things calm down or he finishes school.”

“About the GIW,”Red Hood cut in. “They know about Danny right? Since the Fenton’s have been working with them? We read that the Fenton’s think you kidnapped Danny.”

Phantom barked out a laugh,”Nah, I didn’t kidnap him. He and his sister, and two of his friends had a plan in case his parents or the GIW ever caught him.”

Red Hood exhaled harshly, “That’s fucked up,” He commented dryly. To be living with people you were terrified of for so long, Jason thought. He might have to pay a visit to the Fentons after they take down the GIW. 

“And its exactly why we’re trying to take down the GIW and establish a treaty between the Infinite Realms and the Human world,”Red Robin added. At this, Phantom’s pointed ears perked up and he stood straighter. “Would you be willing to introduce the rest of the bats to some ghosts? You mentioned there was a Ghost King, do you think he’d be interested in a treaty?” 

Phantom’s eyes were wide and he suddenly stopped floating, his bright white boots landing softly on the rooftop. “You’re serious?”

The two vigilantes nodded. “They’re already going to be in trouble when the Lantern Corps hears about this from the league. The GIW is basically committing inter dimensional genocide with no one else knowing. That’s a crime. If we could start by meeting with people from your realm to talk about how to form an alliance it would be great.” 

Phantom nodded enthusiastically. “I can arrange a meeting between the ghosts. If you’re serious about this that is.” Phantom paused, looking pensive. “I just… don’t want to involve the Halfas just yet. If the GIW or the Fentons know how a halfa is created…” he trailed off but the two vigilantes grimaced in understanding. They didn’t need more people being experimented on. 

After a half hour of back and forth about the potential alliance of the Human World and the Infinite Realms, the two vigilantes went back to the cave, while Danny continued to fly around invisibly throughout the city. He was thrumming with energy, mostly excitement and dread about what this meant for ghosts. With the alliance, they’ll be able to come to earth with no threats of being torn apart molecule but molecule. The ghosts acting out in the human realm would be punished by the ghost king and handled by a team of experts appointed by said king rather than a mysterious government agency.

Not only that, but the portals would be restricted and only a few allowed access through. Humans wouldn’t be able to come and go either, but Danny thought it might be okay for scientists- actual scientists- to study the realm safely. He knew a lot of lost artifacts, worldly treasures and sometimes places ended up in the realms. Time moved differently there and so Ancient Greece and Egypt still existed and thrived. 

Phantom flew around towards the manor and thought about their next meeting. It was going to be a few more bats at a warehouse tomorrow night. Danny just needed to think about which ghosts to bring. Frostbite obviously, but maybe Dora too. Clockwork he knew was hit or miss, but that was a lot of the ghosts too. Wulf or Cujo might be helpful to open a portal too. He’d have to think on it. 

Surprisingly though, was that the two vigilantes actually listened to him. They trusted him to bring unknown beings to meet with them, and that the ghosts really wanted peace with the humans. Danny conceded that he was also giving them a lot of trust in telling them about himself, or halfas. They already knew about the Fentons weapons, and despite being one phone call away, the bats still didn’t put Phantom or Danny in danger. He liked that they waited til they had all the information before making a decision. 

Red Robin in particular was focused on gaining any little bit of information he could on Danny's health. It was a bit endearing, and reminded Danny of Tim. Hood on the other hand was quick to think of ways to protect Danny, which was nice. He’d only ever had Jazz and Sam and Tucker to do that for him. Hence the whole moving to Gotham plan. 

Eventually after Danny finished catastrophising and coming up with a plan of action, he headed back to the manor. It was only 3am, so he floated to the library to grab another book. He’d finished the last one and had started on a series with demigods. It amazed him to think that he’d never read books like this ever since his accident. Danny’d always been too busy with school and ghosts to read for fun.  He took the book invisibly back to his room and for the next few hours he read. It was easy to get sucked into the book and forget about everything that was about to happen. 

Somehow, Danny had fallen asleep in the midst of reading, and had slept through breakfast. The residents of the manor had all come to check on him, but once peering into his room to see the boy laying face down on a book, they decided he needed more sleep. 

Tim on the other hand noted that maybe Danny had trouble sleeping and read until he felt tired. Jason did that a lot when he couldn’t sleep. Thinking back to everything Phantom told them, Tim couldn’t help but think that Danny really didn’t know how his sleep schedule was supposed to change. He thought maybe Danny finally felt relaxed or safe, and that’s why he’s able to sleep more, but it was just a theory. The same went for his appetite, and Phantom had said Danny literally didn’t feel hungry anymore. He was glad Danny hadn’t outright stopped eating, but it was still worrisome since Danny looked like skin and bones. 

He’d have to keep an eye on Danny’s eating habits and sleeping patterns in order to gather data, Tim thought. Maybe he could rope Alfred into helping him. Either way, Danny sleeping the morning away allowed Tim to brief the rest of the household on Danny and Phantom. Jason in particular was sticking around, probably out of worry for Danny, but he didn’t contribute a whole lot to the conversation. 

“Do we know what kind of powers Danny has?” Bruce asked, and Jason scoffed. 

“Not really,” Tim pondered. “Phantom only told us the medical stuff, which wasn’t much. Danny might have more ghostly attributes too, since we know Phantom has invisibility, intangibility, flight, and super strength.”

“Doesn’t really matter if the kid has powers,”Jason said, “He still needs help. The kid basically got turned into a different species with no instruction manual. If he does have powers, he might have trouble controlling them.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Folson has shown me that he has the ability to manipulate ice during our snowball fight,”He reported, only for the cave to go silent as everyone stared at him. 

“And you didn’t inform us of this before?” Bruce narrowed his eyes, and Damian bristled. 

“I highly doubt making snowballs is worth reporting,”Damian scoffed. “Danny had told me in confidence because he trusts me,”Damian preened, before sneering at the others. “I am only telling you as a courtesy. He is unaffected by the cold temperatures but from what I observed unable to create or stop something like the blizzard. He is secretive about his powers and used them minimally, but he could be hiding others.”

“Aw, you two are getting along so well!” Dick cooed, moving to wrap Damian in a hug, but was dodged by the scowling kid. They stepped further from the group as Dick attempted to cajole Damian into talking about his feelings.

“We won’t mention his powers, Damian,”Tim reassured, looking sternly to Bruce. “I’m not sure how ice ties into ghosts, but it might come up later. We can ask Phantom tonight.”

“He’ll be bringing a representative from his dimension?” Bruce clarified, and Tim nodded, bringing up the notes he shared with everyone. 

“Phantom said he was going to contact one of the Ghost King’s regents. They’re choosing to trust us here, with their people’s existence and Danny’s safety, so we can assume they’re not going to ambush us,”Tim reported, and Jason gave a stern look to Bruce.

“Think of it like a diplomatic Justice League meeting, but in a dingy warehouse in Gotham,”Jason snorted. Then he stretched, making to leave. 

“Where are you going?” Dick called, looking a bit sad. Jason waved him off. 

“Chill out, I’m going to find Alfred and see if the kid’s awake yet,”Jason said, heading to the stairs. 

“He’s really gotten attached to the kid,”Dick mused with a small smile. 

“I heard that!” Jason called, voice echoing in the cave. 

“Danny and Jason did sort of die,”Tim muttered, turning to his tablet. 

“Danny and Phantom seem close,”Bruce commented, and Tim rolled his eyes at the lack of communication. 

“From what Jason and I gathered, Phantom is only in Gotham to keep an eye on Danny and look out for the GIW or Fentons,”Tim said.” We don’t have a way to track Phantom, but he didn’t seem to know who Jason or I was under the mask. He might be keeping track of Danny through other means though.”

Bruce just grunted. 

“Hold on,”Dick interrupted, and Tim turned to see Damian sulking behind Bruce while Dick was messing with Tim’s tablet. “He has radioactive blood? Like acid blood?”

“Not.. exactly?” Tim groaned. “I’d really have to test it but Phantom made it seem like their blood had more of a lazarus pit consistency. It’s better not to risk contamination though.”

“I am more worried to how Danny was in danger enough to know stitches wouldn’t work on him,”Damian scowled. Tim made a thoughtful face at that, and Bruce’s mouth stretched to a thin line. 

“Well,”Dick sighed,”He is on the run for a reason. We just have to protect him from now on so it doesn’t happen again.”

“Clearly,”Damian crossed his arms,”Those buffoons in the white suits will not be coming anywhere near Danny while I am around.” 

Bruce cleared his throat.”There’s been no sign of the GIW in Gotham, but a tech company in the same area seems to have their sights here.”

“A tech company? Which one?” Tim perked up, head swiveling to Bruce. He had his computer out and ready to type. 

“DALV Co.,”Bruce grumbled. “Specializes in equipment commonly supplied to the GIW and FentonWorks. Run by Vlad Masters, who has invited himself to the WayneTech gala next week.” 

“That can’t be a coincidence,”Dick muttered. “You think he knows Danny? Or Phantom?” 

Bruce just grunted again, which Tim translated into ‘we’ll keep an eye on it either way’. Tim turned back to his computer, eager to run more searches on Masters when Dick grabbed his swively chair and steered him towards the elevator. “Dick-” Tim started, only to be cut off.

“Nope,”Dick cheered, hauling Tim out of the chair with Damian trailing behind. “Danny is your friend and you guys should be hanging out more! I bet he’s already up and Jason’s the only one up there right now.”

“But-” 

“B can handle Masters, but I bet your friend is missing you,”Dick said sternly. 

“Tt. Obviously Danny would prefer my company over Tim’s anyway,”Damian tutted. Tim shot him a look. “He was my friend first, brat,”Tim pointed out. 

“The keyword there is ‘was’,” Damian sneered. “Unlike you, Danny has already shown me his secret powers.” 

Tim frowned at that. “I thought you said he told you not to tell anyone.” 

Damian shuffled guiltily. “I.. It was important to the mission to disclose his wellbeing.”

Tim smirked,”Right, well, I won’t tell him you told unless you distract Alfred so I can make coffee.”

Damian scowled at him. “Fine. But your petty addiction will only worsen and Pennyworth will not be happy.”

“I can live with that.”

Chapter 14

[bewitched-forest]

Danny & Billy - Brothers in Too Much Power

For @gummybearstastelikesadness

Summary: Danny Fenton and Billy Batson were a pair of homeless, secretly super power minors trying to navigate life. Danny Fenton takes on the role of Billy's older brother, and the two spend a pleasant breakfast together. Until they are rudely interrupted by Billy's Justice League communicator popping off. Billy Batson, now taking on the form of Captain Marvel, goes to handle the disturbance, until realizing it was Skulker, ghost hunter extraordinaire. Billy taps out, letting Danny Phantom take over.

[Ao3: link]

Danny shifts, eyes fluttering open before he squeezes them closed with a groan. Despite it being winter, the morning is bright with the sun reflecting against the snow. He shifts, blinking his eyes open when he notices the head tucked into his shoulder. With blurry eyes, he looks down at the mop of hair just below his head. It takes him a moment, the phantoms of sleep playing their tricks before he realizes that it's Billy.

 The two boys had met, well, almost a year ago now. Danny had gone on the run, his coronation as King of the Infinite Realms making him a much more sought-after ghost, by his parents and strangers alike. Billy had been homeless for a couple of years, bouncing around Fawcett City’s back alleys long before he became Captain Marvel. The two had met when Danny broke into an abandoned home, one Billy had also been using to stay. The strained situation when they had run into each other broke when Danny accidentally slipped a pun, causing Billy to laugh. The two had ended up becoming something of a family, Billy regarding Danny as an older brother and Danny seeing Billy as a younger one in kind.

 Danny shifted again, adjusting Billy still asleep behind him before scanning the room. The room in question was very run down. Half the roof had long since been gone, causing the only part free of snow to be the corner Danny and Billy had tucked themselves into. Thankfully, everything seemed untouched. 

 He heard a soft crackle, pulling his attention to look up. Danny sighed at the sight of the Crown of Fire floating softly above him. It must’ve manifested in their sleep, providing warmth on the freezing winter night. Danny takes a deep breath, forcing the crown away to wherever it went. Billy shifted against Danny, opening his eyes slowly and looking up. Danny looked back down, smiling softly.

 “Morning Danny,” says Billy as he pulls away, rubbing his eyes.

 “Morning Billy,” Danny replies, groaning softly as he stretches.

 Billy shifts, reaching for the backpacks. He pulls them closer, passing the black one to Danny while he opens his red one. Danny takes the bag, tugs open the zipper and reaches in. He pulls out a couple of cans of food, ranging from corn to green beans to regular brown beans.

Billy looks over, grabbing one of the cans. “Hey. What kind of vegetable is jealous?”

 Danny looks over with a grin, squinting at Billy. “I dunno, what?”

 Billy turns the can, showing the label to Danny. “Green beans!”

 Danny snorts, before breaking down into laughter. He grabs the rest of the cans, packing them away. Billy laughs, setting the can of green beans next to its double before digging into his bag. He pulls out a bag of frozen beef jerky, offering it to Danny once he starts calming.

 Danny grabs it, setting it down before summoning the Crown of Fire again. He reaches up, grabs it with both hands, and sets it on the ground. Or, well, setting it to hover just over the ground. Billy grabs the cans, holding them over the crown as he mutters under his breath, pulling on stamina of Atlas to protect him from the heat. Danny smiles, grabbing the jerky and holding it over the crown as well. The two shift closer, leaning against each other as they wait for the crown to warm their breakfast for the day.

 Danny sighs, plopping his head on top of Billy’s. “We should probably move today. We’ve been in this house for almost a week now.”

 Billy nods. “Yeah. Probably should have an actual roof, too.”

 Danny snorts. “Definitely.” 

 Danny pulls the jerky away from the crown, pulling it open. Billy smiles, settings down the cans as he grabs some jerky. The two go on to eat their breakfast peacefully, Danny sending away the crown.

 As Danny gets up to throw away the cans, an alarm sounds. Billy jumps, reaching into his bag and pulling out a communicator. He looks up at Danny before tapping it, the screen lighting up to show the Justice League logo.

 “Captain Marvel, 1-5,” Billy says. Danny crouches down next to him, looking at the screen.

 “Captain Marvel, 1-5. Access granted,” sounds a female voice, before the screen changes.

 “What's up, Billy?”

 “There’s apparently an unidentified disturbance here in Fawcett City. Since I’m closest and available, they’re asking me to check it out.”

 “Alright then.” Danny stands, grabbing the bag of cans and swinging it around his shoulders. “Guess we ought to get going then.”

 Billy stands up, grabs the other backpack, and offers it to Danny. “You’re coming?”

 “Just to watch. I want to make sure you’re okay, tiny.” Danny grins, taking the other bag.

 Billy squints. “Shazam!” he shouts. Lightning strikes down, and in his place stands Captain Marvel. “I’m not tiny now,” he states, puffing out his chest.

 Danny laughs, floating off the ground to put them both face to face. “You’ll always be tiny to me.”

 Captain Marvel just sighs as he lifts off, following his communicator. Danny shifts to be invisible before following.

 } ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ {

 When Captain Marvel arrives on the scene, he tilts his head. In front of him is a man of metal, with a silver mohawk. He has several guns, from a bazooka to a machine gun. And the man is glowing. Brightly.

 Danny groans beside his younger brother. “This one’s one of mine.”

 Marvel blinks, looking over to where Danny’s voice came from. “One of yours?”

 “Yeah… Remember how I told you I was a hero once too? This bastard is one of the ghosts I fought. Name’s Skulker. And he wants my pelt. I’ll deal with him.”

 “I’m sorry he wants your what?!” Captain Marvel asks as he floats down to one of the rooftops, looking scandalized at his brother once Danny shows himself.

 “Yeah, it's nothing. I’ll tell you later.” Danny slips off the backpacks, handing them to Captain Marvel before he shifts, white wings expanding to replace the human boy.

 “O-okay. Shazam!” Marvel shouts after he drops the bags, turning back into Billy. He watches as Phantom lifts off, flying towards the metal man and punching him. 

 “Ah! Brat! I have found you at last!” shouts Skulker, aiming the machine gun at Phantom.

 “Can it, Skulker!” Phantom says, grabbing Skulker and slamming him into the ground. Billy races to the edge of the building, looking over to continue watching his brother fight.

 Skulker was definitely outmatched by Phantom. Phantom had him pinned down, and was actively tearing apart the various weapons he had. Billy watched with wide eyes, jaw-dropping as Phantom ripped off the head. Phantom shakes the head, a small lump of green tumbling out. Billy watches as his older brother grabs the thermos on his belt, sucking up the entire mech suit and blob before capping it again.

 Phantom looks up and around before spotting Billy on the roof. He lifts off, turning invisible before looping back around and settling down by Billy. He shifts back to human after letting go of the invisibility, clearing his throat.

 Billy whirls around, barely hesitating to slam into Danny with a hug. A little cheating with flight is probably the only reason Danny didn’t hit the floor.

 “Oof-” Danny mutters, returning the hug.

 “That was awesome!” Billy yells as he leans back, staring at Danny with a face full of admiration. “You must’ve been such a good hero before! That was so cool to watch! You just slammed into the ground and then bam, pow, crunch he was done for!”

 Danny chuckles as he steps back, Billy taking the opportunity to practically bounce around. “Yeah. I guess.”

 Billy pauses, looking back at Danny. “Why did you stop? Being a hero and all? You’re really good at it.”

 Danny sighed, looking away. “I got crowned king. When I became the King of the Infinite Realms, all of the sudden the ghost hunters and magic users started hunting me down even more. I spent most of my battles trying to save my own skin rather than actually keeping the peace.”

 Billy frowns, walking over and hugging Danny again. “I mean we have each other now. We could become a team! Then I could keep away the hunters, and you could be a hero again!”

 Danny looks down at Billy, blinking in shock before hugging Billy back with a smile. “Ah- Maybe. It wouldn’t be easy. Ghosts aren’t exactly recognized as citizens.”

 Billy grins. “Well, that seems like an injustice to me. And lucky for you!” Billy steps back, puffing out his chest and pointing at it with his thumb,” I’m a member of the Justice League! And we specialize in fighting injustice!”

 Danny chuckles, ruffling Billy’s hair. “Okay. Let’s talk about this later. We definitely need to head off.”

 Billy smiles, nodding. “Alright.” He grabs his backpack, throwing it on as Danny does the same. Then he grabs Danny’s hand, interlacing his fingers.

 Danny smiles before turning them both invisible. He walks over to the edge of the roof, lifting off into the air. The two fly off, set about continuing their day.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Get Well Soon

Danny is sick and his powers are going crazy.

For the prompt: Danny comes down with a nasty, but totally regular cold. It's not the first time he's been sick since he got his powers, and normally, it's no big deal, but this time his powers are acting up, setting off randomly every so often. It's never very long, but it IS getting hard to hide, especially as he starts to recover. (AKA: sickfic with shenanigans) [from @gottacatchghosts]

Read also on AO3

[No applicable warnings]

Danny was dying. He was definitely gonna die. He was already half dead, but this vile infection was going to do him in the rest of the way. He moaned in pain and distress.

"Stop being so dramatic, Danny," Sam told him, rolling her eyes. "It's just a regular cold. It's not even a ghost flu or anything like that. It's a perfectly normal, run-of-the-mill cold, and you're gonna be fine."

"Are you sure about that, Sam?" Danny asked. 

His voice was low and nasally, thanks to his stuffy nose and sore throat, and he promptly buried his face in his blankets and burst into a coughing fit. 

When he looked up again, Sam was staring at him, wide-eyed.

He looked down at himself curiously, wondering what she was looking so freaked about. White gloves and black sleeves met his swimming vision.

"Just a normal cold, huh?" He looked at her and raised an eyebrow—probably both actually. His muscle control wasn't the best at the moment.

"It is just a cold," she insisted. "We've already run the tests, and there's absolutely no chance at all that this virus is in any way ghost related. It's a regular cold, Danny. You're just gonna have to tough it out until it goes away."

Danny groaned in despair and agony.

"But Saaaammm."

"I don't know what you think I can do about it. I'm rich, not magic."

He groaned again, and Sam shuddered as the temperature in the room suddenly dropped to freezing, and a thin sheen of frost formed on Danny's window.

He'd had colds before since getting his powers, and normally, it wasn't that big a deal. It sucked, sure; being sick always sucked. But nothing like this had ever happened before. His powers had never acted up like this before, and he'd never lost control of his powers.

Sam walked over and opened his window to let the cold air escape.

"I've gotta get going," she told him apologetically. "You should change back before your parents come in to check on you. Fair warning, your mom was making soup when I came in."

"Thanks for the warning," he grumbled, and sniffed.

It took more concentration than usual to shift back into his Fenton form, but it seemed he hadn't completely lost control of his powers... yet, at least.

It was only a few minutes later that his mom came in, carrying a steaming mug full of chicken soup.

"Hi sweetie, how you feeling?" she asked, her voice dripping with sympathy.

"I feel half dead," Danny replied with a small smirk. 

He felt a sneeze coming on, but held it in. He knew what would happen.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she told him pouted. "Do you need anything? Cough syrup? Hot tea? Marshmallows? Oh!" 

She turned to look in her utility belt, and as she did so, Danny let loose a sneeze, and the accompanying ghost-ray that shot out from him and scorched the wall opposite his bed, only narrowly missing his mother.

"Your dad found his old Game Boy," she said, pulling out a device lat looked kind of like Tucker's PDA, but way more eighties. "You don't have to take it if you don't want, but since you're stuck in bed right now, it might be fun, just to pass the time."

Danny put his mug of soup down on his bedside table, wiped his sweaty hands off on his blankets, and took the device from his mom. Examining it to figure out how exactly it worked. The controls were fairly intuitive, but he couldn't find the 'on' button. His mother laughed softly.

Well if that keeps you entertained, then my work here is done. She patted her knees, stood up and walked out the door with a gentle, "Get well soon, sweetie."

As soon as the door closed, Danny sneezed again. A ghost ray shot out and his the door where his mother's head had been a moment before.

Yeah... he'd better get well soon.

The Game Boy only had Tetris, Pac-Man, and the Ghostbusters 2 video game, so Danny chose to play the one game that didn't have ghosts in it, only to discover rather quickly that he sucked ass at Tetris. That didn't stop him from trying, even though his record at this point was 16 lines.

He was starting to get chills now, but he remained steadfastly focused on his game until his dad came into the room.

"Ah, the old Game Boy," he said fondly, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Danny. "You know, I can get all the way to level two hundred and fifty-six on Pac-Man. Spent a whole summer trying to get a perfect score, but I never quite got there."

"I'm playing Tetris," Danny said.

A chill wracked his body and he saw his hands disappear and gasped softly. Thankfully his dad didn't notice, or the man might've turned around to look and seen empty air where his son had been a moment before. Danny quickly turned himself visible again.

"Oh... yeah, there was a deal going when I bought the Game Boy," his dad explained, oblivious as usual to the paranormal activity happening behind him. "It came with a free copy of Tetris. I tried it a few times, but the best score I ever got was twenty rows before I finally gave up."

"Yeah," Danny commiserated. "I've only gotten up to 16 so far."

He shuddered again with a chill and turned invisible once more. Then his dad started to turn toward him and Danny desperately snapped back into the visible spectrum.

"Well, as long as you're having fun, that's all that matters," his dad said.

Danny smiled in response, just relieved he'd managed to turn visible again before his dad saw—or rather, didn't see.

They didn't talk long before his dad left, and he was in his room alone again, free to turn invisible as much as he liked—whether he wanted to or not.

It was more-or-less fine when he was mostly left alone in his room with no one to see his powers acting up. He was still sick, and he still felt like death, but at least he didn't have to worry to much about his secret identity being found out.

But a few days later, he started to recover. He could get up and walk around the house, and people spent more time around him because they were less worried about catching his cold. The problem with that was, even though he was on the mend, his powers were still acting up.

Once, when he was microwaving some soup, he randomly went intangible and fell halfway through the kitchen floor. Thankfully Jazz had been the only one to see, and she'd helped pull him back up, but if his parents had been there, he'd have been screwed. 

When he was watching TV with his mom, he'd had a light cough and when he looked up, he saw that he'd accidentally made the coasters on the coffee table start floating. Thankfully, she'd been too focused on the drama they were watching together to notice, but it had been a close call.

His cold was almost gone, but he wasn't out of the woods yet.

Truly, he couldn't get well soon enough.

[ourrechte-blog]

Part 4 of, Funny take on Daddy Danny and DC

After learning the existence of humans with ghost powers, Valerie thought being surprised had ended. Then came the video of Danny Fenton of all people leaping through glass and coming out unharmed in defense of Dani after the latter had screamed for daddy But she's a clone of Phantom. She called out for her father. And Danny Fenton came to her rescue instead of Phantom. After that realization struck her and, in hindsight, Fenton being Phantom became a lot more obvious. As obvious as Victor Frieze being Mr Freeze. Or all the characters in Kim Possible with the punny names Her jaw then fell at Danny's admission of being a time traveler. Though the fact that he kept a working time machine right in his room didn't surprise her as much as it should. He was rather good at hiding in plain sight. Of course the revelation of things made her angry. Danny was Phantom. He blew up her old suit. He got her dad fired. He... was sweet. And a jerk. And her prey. And her ex. And he was never in danger from her enemies. But he will be in danger from her. She will be getting her pound of flesh from him That was why she was in costume and shaking down Tucker. "How many pictures do you have of Danny?" she all but demanded "A lot," he stammered. "I need pictures of Danny Fenton. Preferably shots of him from the back," she told him. She knew how it looks. A ghost hunter asking for what amounts to butt shots of the child of ghost hunters. But she didn't really care. Let the rumors spread. It's not like people will come back to bite her in the butt ------ Valerie inspected the field filled with many dummies, each having a picture of Danny's face or backside, and cocked her gun. And fired at one of them, vaporizing it. "A little too strong there," she muttered before turning down the intensity. "Take your time, Danny," she says to herself. "Take all the time with your daughter. Because once you're back, your butt is mine!" she declared and fired at another dummy, this time lighting it on fire. "This is going to take a while. Good thing I got a lot of targets" ------ "I can't believe you just gave her photos of Danny!" Sam yelled at her friend. "Don't you care what she's going to do with them?" "I'm not worried. She's probably just admiring the view," Tucker says dismissively. "You jealous you didn't ask for photos first?" he teases Sam's only response was to blush before deciding to drag Tucker after Valerie

[pickleking8]

10 - Adoption Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be - Chapter 10

Words: 1090

Ao3 Link

Previous - Next - Masterpost

Tw: kidnapping, sprained ankle, lmk if I missed anything

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Danny’s window was silent as he cracked it open, not a single squeak or scrape as it slid smoothly up. Standing there, he held his breath for several moments, before letting it go in a long exhale when no alarms sounded. Looking out the window, he frowned. In the daytime, the drop down had looked daunting, a solid twenty feet of air between him and loose dirt with no flight to slow his fall. At night, it looked even more so, as the darkness of the dirt blended into the moonless night, leaving Danny staring at an unwelcoming maw. The only way he could know there was even ground there was the plopping sound of rain hitting the steadily growing puddles below. Jumping down would be stupid. It would be dangerous. He could easily get even more hurt. 

He had to try, though. He had to. He had spent the whole day trying to convince these people that he wasn’t fucking Jason, and they hadn’t believed him. They hadn’t believed him when he yelled, or when he cried, or when he tried to hit them (emphasis on tried. He always found his wrists caught in an iron grip the second he raised his hands). No, all they ever did was smile a condescending smile that was still all too wide and exchange sad glances from beady, shifting eyes. This wasn’t a problem that would get solved if he just waited; Jazz didn’t know where he was and there was no one else that would be looking for him, and these people clearly weren’t going to snap out of their delusions any time soon. So… he had to try, because what else was there to do?

The mud would probably cushion his fall anyway. He bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, and exhaled quickly before placing his hands on the rain-slick window frame and swinging his feet over. For a second, he dangled there, water pelting him and quickly making him shiver, stomach scraping against rough brick and legs in open air, his whole body buffeted by a strong breeze. After that second, before he could even plant his feet on the wall and prepare to fall, he felt his hands slip off the mossy, wet stone and his heart sink into his stomach as he fell. 

He hit the ground hard and with a squelch, creating large splashes from dirty puddles and thoroughly coating himself with black mud. He didn’t allow himself any time to collect himself, no, he had to hurry, who knew how long he had until he was noticed? Grunting, he pushed himself up, and wobbled to his feet, only to immediately grimace as he put weight on his right ankle. 

Fuck, he thought, sprained. Not good. 

A light flicked on inside, glowing dimly through green stained glass windows, illuminating him in a sickly, familiar shade. Danny spared no time to glance at the window, not chancing being blinded by memories, and simply heaved his aching, mud-covered body forward, stumbling and limping at an admirable speed for one so broken and exhausted. His bare feet were numb, slipping and sliding on slick grass, rain plastering his hair to his face. 

He was almost there. The creepy, wrought-iron gate was almost within reach, and he stretched his arm out, ready to grab it, to have something other than his stupid sprained ankle supporting his weight. Just as his fingers grazed the smooth, freezing metal spotted with bright green moss, he was yanked back with strong arms into someone’s chest, who easily lifted him off the ground and held him tight, with his arms pinned against his sides. He started crying, screaming and yelling as he punched and pushed the arms trapping him. 

It did nothing. Absolutely nothing. The person simply turned around and started walking back to the stupidly big house, not even flinching, barely even tensing as Danny struggled. Within a few minutes, they were back in the living room, and Danny was dropped unceremoniously upon a dry towel that had been placed on the couch. Five people stood around him, all of them looking angry. He shrank back, pressing into the cushions below him. 

“I’m sorry, I–” he began to say, only to be immediately cut off.

“You should be! Jason, what were you thinking? You could have been hurt! You did get hurt! Where on Earth were you even going, in the middle of the night?” the older man, maybe forty, said in a long tirade, barely stopping to take a breath. Danny felt anger flare again, fingers curling into the towel below him, wrinkling it, turning his knuckles white with rage. 

“I was going home! I was leaving this stupid house and you people, and you know why? Because I’m not Jason! I’m not!” he yelled, continuing in a smaller voice as the faces around him got angrier, “...I just want to go home.”

“Jason, you are home, why don’t you understand that? You’re right where you belong, right where you will belong for the rest of your life. And stop saying you aren’t Jason! Even if you don’t remember, we are your family, and you could at least trust us to do what’s right for you!” he said, having the audacity to look hurt, to lace his words with worry and sadness. 

Danny simply scoffed, and looked away, not trusting his voice to carry his words properly, and not trusting these people to listen.

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Later that night, after Danny’s ankle had been treated and he had been shoved inside a large bathroom and left to take a shower, he was once again left in ‘his’ room, the door shutting quietly behind him with another reprimand from the older man. 

Danny sighed, and looked to his window, only to find that his view of the gate was now marred by cold steel. The bars were pretty and intricate, with curled branches and floral patterns to match the richness of the room, but they were affixed to the window frame, strong, unbreakable, and all the same as they would be if plucked straight from a crumbling prison. All of that effort, that pain, the ankle and the rough hands that treated it, and he was right back where he started. 

He had been so close. 

But now, all he could see was green. Still too bright. Still too neon. Still too stagnant, too venomous, too poisonous, too sickly, entrapping and encompassing. 

Still a stupid color, especially  when 

                                                                         he

                                                                                had

                                                                                         been

                                                                                                    so

                                                                                                           close.

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Next - Masterpost

Hey everyone! Sorry for the long break, my life was really busy for a bit and I wasn't sure how I wanted to write this. By the way, if anyone has opinions on the formatting of that last sentence, give them to me, I wasn't sure if it was a good idea or not.

Also! I have officially written over 10,000 words! That's a lot of words! I'm really proud of myself, I didn't think that this fic would come this far, but I'm really happy that it has. You should all be proud of me. Anyway, thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

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Taglist: @tkiesai

[rhythm-of-space]

To Be in Clover

notes - another big thank you to @sunfl0wer-power for the header and encouragement. this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so i thought i'd share!

warnings - none! just a night with dad!jake

-

"to be (or to live) in clover", meaning to live a carefree life of ease, comfort, or prosperity.

-

“Daddy!” Your little girl squealed from her booster seat at the dining table. You had received a text from Jake earlier, explaining how the band meeting ran late, that he wouldn't make it for dinner, and how sorry he was. This has started to become a routine lately. You knew what you signed up for when deciding to marry him and start a family, but sometimes it felt like he was a traveling nomad in your shared life. 

You didn't even hear his car pull into the driveway as you were wrestling your 3 year old, Clover, into her seat for dinner. But she did, she always did. It's like she had a sixth sense for when her father was around. Since she was born it was like her and Jake shared a brain. Every little detail about them was the same - their unwavering kindness, their steadfast stubbornness, even down to their mannerisms when they tag-teamed far-reaching, but always entertaining, bedtime stories.

Though you had just tucked her legs into her seat, you knew it wouldn't last long until she whined for you to help her down so she could meet her father at the front door. 

You lifted her out by her underarms and set her down on the floor. Immediately, she was out of your grasp and stumbling to the foyer as quickly as her little legs would let her. You followed behind to catch any blows that were common these days with your high-energy toddler.

You hear the click of the lock, the squeak of the door hinge, and then the excitement from your daughter as Jake walks into the house.

“Hi, Clove!” He lifts her up in the air and then hugs her close to his chest. “How was your day, Honey Bee?” 

Her arms wrap around his neck and her legs around his waist to get closer to him, if that were even possible. “Good. Me and Mommy went to the park to feed the ducks. One of them looked like you! We named him Jacob.” She glances up to meet his eyes as they both giggle, “Mommy took a picture. He's real funny lookin’.” Jake looks over at you with a gasp and wide smile from his daughter’s candid observation. 

“You saying I'm funny lookin’?” 

She shrugs nonchalantly, “Kinda…” That earns her a prod from Jake's fingers to her side, prompting another round of giggles.

When her laughs die down some, he steps towards you and slides Clover onto his hip so he has a free arm to bring you in for an embrace. 

“So, you made it…” you state with a pointed tone.

“I did! I missed my girls!” He says with a kiss on your forehead to try to relieve any tension - though he knows a discussion needs to be had between you two when the little one is put to sleep. You weren't the only one feeling the pull that he’s been causing recently. You both need to find a compromise and make it work - just like you always did. 

He turns his focus back to his daughter, “So guess what, Bee? Uncle Danny and I finally finished that riff we’ve been working on. You know the one?” She nods enthusiastically - you, in fact, did not know what he’s referring to but with their unspoken communication and daddy-daughter moments he always makes time for, sometimes it’s hard for you to keep up, “So, I was thinking of playing it for my harshest critic, if you’re up for it.” Clover immediately wiggles out of his grasp, takes Jake’s hand, and bolts to his music room like her life depended on it. 

“Woah, woah, woah hold on a minute,” they immediately freeze like statues at your abruptness, “Uh, dinner? You know, the food I’ve been preparing. The food that’s probably gone cold?”

“But Mommy, you got it from that one place down the road…” she states, and you see Jake unsuccessfully hold in a laugh, looking up to the ceiling to conceal his grin from Clover. 

“Not the point!” You look to Jake for some help, although you know you're not going to get it from him when it comes to his mini-me. She got her wit from him after all. 

“Pleaseee, Mommy, can we go play?” And that came from Jake, the grown man who is now acting like his own toddler, lips pouting and everything. You shake your head and roll your eyes before you turn your back and head into the kitchen to reheat the food as it looks like dinner will now be eaten in Jake’s music room tonight. 

-

You return, arms full of plates and cutlery, to the most picture-perfect moment. Your partner and daughter sat on the carpeted floor, legs criss-cross, mirroring each other - they look more alike every day that she grows into herself, you think. Guitars are propped on their arms - Jake’s Gibson acoustic pulled off the wall and her mini one, fitted to her tiny hands, which usually hangs right next to his. Despite what her father thinks, she is not some baby prodigy so she has no idea how to even play the guitar, let alone understand the chords Jake repeats back to her. But it’s the way they bond. She likes to watch his fingers glide effortlessly along the strings and hear the pretty sounds created from his movements; she thinks he’s making magic, which you can’t argue with. 

Despite Jake’s constant reassurance, you always feel like you’re interrupting these moments. You know they won’t last forever; when she finds her own interests and doesn't see her mom, dad, and uncles as the lights of her life anymore. Sometimes, when she is curled up in his arms drifting off to sleep, Jake mentions how he wishes she could stay small so he can hold her close to his chest and feel her heartbeat flutter next to his forever. 

Jake’s cursing is what brings you out of your thoughts, “Jacob.” you hear Clover scold - even at just three years old, she’s caught onto the idea of naughty words and will take any opportunity to remind her dad and uncles of their place. You’re still surprised her first word wasn’t ‘fuck’ despite how often it’s used around her. 

You make your way from the doorway to where they’re sitting and put their plates down to their sides. His tattered leather bound journal is laying between them, turned to a page filled with his and Danny’s handwritten notes that look like illegible scribbles of crossed out chord progressions and quick notes only they would understand. You sit next to Jake and he offers a quiet thank you and leans over for a kiss.

As he begins to strum a mixture of chords, you start to shovel food into Clover’s mouth as she's too focused on the show in front of her to do anything other than open her mouth for access and chew. These moments have been too far and few between lately as he’s spent his nights in the studio and returns after Clover is asleep, and you missed them dearly. The simple comfort found in the quiet of Jake’s soft thrum of his instrument, the wind-down and relaxation from the busy day, and the way you get to finally be together, just the three of you, a little family filled with love and warmth. 

A couple minutes pass by before he finishes his rough draft of the new riff and he finally looks up from his notes, always a little apprehensive of showcasing his work. The silence is filled with Clover’s open-mouthed chewing - you’ll let it slide this time - as her eyebrows furrow as if she’s deep in thought. 

After a swallow, she says, “Mmm, I like it… but I think you need to practice more. You should ask Uncle Danny for some help, he’s really good, ya know?” Now it’s your turn to chuckle at her blunt honesty not directed at you this time. 

Jake clicks his tongue and smirks, trying not to take his daughter's comment to heart. “And what do you think, darling?” 

“I think she said all that needed to be said,” joining in on the playful teasing. 

“Oh, is that so?” Jake moves the guitar to the floor and places your half eaten dinner out of the way before pinning your body to the ground and poking the spots he knows are off limits, the ones he found early in your relationship that make you laugh uncontrollably. You feel this tiny bit of weight added and in your haze of laughter you look over Jake’s shoulder to see that Clover has jumped onto his back with her arms wrapped around him, joining in on this impromptu dog-pile. 

In this moment there isn’t anywhere else you would rather be and all you want is to sit in this bliss for as long as you can. The conversation you were going to have with Jake can wait for another day.

-

thanks for reading <33

[dannystattoo]

Change Your Ticket

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Female Reader

Warnings: None

It’s Danny’s birthday enjoy this one shot based on the One Direction Song if you were wondering

Your alarm started going off, and you cursed when you saw it was already somehow 5:45am and time to get up. Your flight didn’t leave for a few hours, but it was a holiday weekend, you were anxious about getting to the airport in time, and you wanted to leave earlier than probably necessary. You also still had to get all your stuff packed up. You’d been on the road with your boyfriend’s band the past week, and when you had to choose between packing your stuff when you got back to the hotel after the show or getting laid for the last time until the tour ended in two months, the decision was easy. You tried to get out of bed without waking him, but it was nearly impossible seeing as you were about as tangled as two people could be.

“Y/n, are you up already?” Danny said next you, definitely still half asleep.

“Yeah babe, I have to pack remember?” You turned on your phone’s flashlight, not wanting to turn on the overhead light, though you still needed to find something to put on. Unable to figure out where the clothes you wore to the show last night went (they’d been off not even 5 minutes after getting into the room), you grabbed Danny’s shirt off the floor after your foot had become tangled in it.

“It’s still dark, come back to bed.”

“Baby, I can’t, I have to pack and take a shower. Go back to bed, you have another show tonight and we probably don’t have to leave til like 7:30, maybe 8 depending on traffic.”

At this point, Danny was awake enough to give you puppy dog eyes in an attempt to get you to come back to bed. “Then you have time, please? I won’t see you til April”

“Don’t remind me, I’m actively choosing to ignore that for as long as I can. Can I turn this lamp on? I can’t see shit.”

“Fine. Will you come back to bed when you’re finished?” As he said this, he reached out of the bed and you're just close enough that his fingers brushed against your bare thigh.

“Ok, ok, you’ve convinced me. I do still have to take a shower if you wanna come?”

The minute you said that he was suddenly much more awake and on his way out of bed.

“I knew that would work,” you laughed as he followed you to the bathroom.

“Jesus, does this hotel not have hot water,” you complained after waiting for the water to heat up for a solid couple of minutes.

“Probably not, this place is honestly terrible.” He was right, they’d played in a bigger city last night, making hotel rooms more expensive, which meant less of a budget for your room.

“This place is kind of a shithole, you’re right. Oh well, I feel absolutely disgusting from last night.”

“Don’t worry, I think I can help.” You threw Danny’s shirt into his suitcase before climbing into the shower, wincing as the water hit your skin. It was lukewarm at best, and it didn’t help it was the dead of winter.

“Fuck, this is freezing. Danny, you wanna get in here?”

Just then the curtain slid open and he climbed in behind you, arms immediately wrapping around your waist. He was always so warm, your personal space heater, and you instantly felt more comfortable. You leaned back against his chest, closing your eyes and letting the water wash over you. You could have stayed like that, but you were pulled back a few minutes later when you felt Danny’s arms break contact with your skin.

“Wait, come back here, I need your warmth.”

“Hold on, I’m getting your shampoo”

“It’s fine, I’m good to just rinse off,” you said, holding your arms out.

“Y/n, you said your hair smelled like booze last night because that asshole at the bar spilled his drink on you. I love you, but you’re right, your hair smells like cheap vodka.”

“I don’t remember you having any complaints last night,” you rolled your eyes.

“Babe, just let me spoil you while I can.” You relented, returning to your place against just chest.

“What if you didn’t leave today?” Danny asked as he worked his fingers through your hair.

“I have to, baby. Trust me, I wish I didn’t have to.”

“You don’t work again til Tuesday though, right?”

“Right, but by the time I get home tonight, it’ll be a long day. I have a seven hour layover in like, Texas or somewhere that isn’t at all on the way to Nashville from here. And then I have a house full of things I put off before I left that I now have to do. Besides, you think i can change my flight if it’s in 5 hours?”

“Don’t think it hurts to try. What if you could come with us tonight and see if you can fly out of Detroit tomorrow.”

The rational side of you thought better of this. First of all, there probably weren’t even any flights you could get in at this point, and if there were, it would probably be a little out of your price range to do so. You knew you also had a million and one things you’d put off for “future y/n” and now it was the future. Then there was the part of you that ached at the thought if not seeing your boyfriend for two months and wanted any extra time with him no matter what it took.

“I don’t know, babe. Will you guys have room for me in the van? I know you didn’t expect me to be here after today and Jita’s getting in today”

“Babe, we have room trust me - we’ve finally made it big enough that we have space for an extra person on the road”

“Oh.” You were now closer to being convinced.

“Will you at least look into it before you say no?” Danny had moved on from your hair and was now lathering soap on you, stopping at the point between your shoulder blades that he knew got you every time.

“Fine, as soon as we get out, I’ll look. I don’t wanna get either of our hopes up this late in the game though. But before that, it’s your turn, you have that after-show musk,” you laughed as you turned around and started running your shampoo through his hair.

“I don’t remember you complaining last night.”

“Touché” after you’d both finished cleaning up, you leaned into his chest one last time before moving to turn off the water.

“I really hope you can stay,” he said as he ran his fingers up and down your back.

“We should probably get out and look into it.” You climbed you out the shower, threw on a towel, and went back to the bed where your phone was charging. You pulled up your flight information and prayed you could find anything you could afford.

“Baby! I think I found something - red eye Monday night, I could come to your show in Detroit tonight, you guys don’t have a show tomorrow and we can spend the entire day together, and this flight leaves at 11:55pm. Should I do it?”

“You have to ask?” Danny was now sitting behind you on the bed, pushing you wet hair aside and placing light kisses up your neck.

“Hold on, lemme make sure this all works,” you reached up so your hand was in his hair. You were trying to brush his lips aside until you’d gotten this taken care of, but he didn’t make it easy.

“And…done! You’ve got me for almost two more days babe”

“You know what that means right?”

“Hm?”

“We have a little more time now that I don’t have to take you to the airport before we get on the road.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm” Danny had buried his head in your neck now, his hand running up and down your thigh. You turned around and he instantly pulled you towards him so that you were straddling his lap. He very quickly leaned back, pulling you with him.

“I’m so glad you’re not leaving.”

“Me too, thank you for talking me into it.”

“I can be very convincing,” he said, going in for a quick kiss. “I love you so much, y/n”

“I love you too, so fucking much…now let’s put this shitty hotel bed to good use one last time before we check out”