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#danny phantom fic
erm-you-see · 7 months
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(Drawing Danny phantom as a creature bc I can and everything looks better creature-ified.)
Now presenting you with:
The After-Afterlife AU!
To preface this post, I’m currently about to rewatch Danny phantom for the first time since I was a kid. I am reading fics too, therefore please forgive me for not being too detailed with this au post!
This version of Danny comes from an alternate dimension, one where he is forced to reveal his identity to his parents earlier then he did in the show and it doesn’t go to plan. It may have been a misunderstanding, pure denial or outright rejection, Regardless, faced with the weight of his ruined relationship Danny moves into the ghost zone for a time in order to sort out what to do.
Meanwhile, in another alternate reality, Jack and Maddie are about to finish up the portal. In this particular reality, the portal acts weirdly compared to the ones in other dimensions. Maddie and Jack accidentally trip one another in the excitement of watching the portal finally open. When they touch it their DNA is un-intentionally used as a direct link with the closest biological entity to them, and he just so happens to exist in another dimension.
On his unwilling transport across dimensions Danny bumps his head on debris. when he finally turns up in his new dimension, he can’t remember a thing.
Jack and Maddie are immediately threatened by him, Raising their weapons. Danny flees but stays hidden in the walls of the house as he feels it is still somewhat familiar even with his loss of memory.
Danny now haunts his parents, as well as jazz as he tries to remember who he was. It doesn’t help that Danny Fenton was never born in this new universe.
A story in which Danny gets gradually adopted into his own family.
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wastefulreverie · 5 months
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fixed point
“Would you like to know how much time you have left?” Clockwork asked.
Danny had never wished more that he’d died in something with pockets so he could hide his shaking hands. The endless ticking in the lair—hundreds of hands TICK TICK TICK -ing in perfect sync—had never sounded so ominous.
“I—” his voice rattled his throat, a raw thing “—I didn’t think you gave spoilers.”
With an absent spin of their staff, Clockwork shifted from adult to child and said nothing. Dread hung heavy in the air, Clockwork’s unblinking stare piercing through it all. Danny pointedly did not make eye contact. Instead focusing on the oscillating hands of the wall behind them.
He took a breath.
“Will it make it easier, knowing?”
Clockwork blinked once, face betraying nothing.
Dammit.
He wasn’t an idiot. There was really only one outcome of this conversation. Just as there had been the day he’d first pulled on his jumpsuit, walking—tripping—through the threshold. Life snuffed out of him in less than a second.
He brought his shaking hands together and met Clockwork’s even gaze.
And answered.
Thirteen days.
Seven hours.
Thirty-six minutes.
It was somehow both longer and shorter than he’d expected.
It was also a weight off his shoulders, at least in the beginning. It wouldn’t happen any earlier than the date Clockwork had recounted that night. Thirteen days of freedom. Peace. Liberation.
Because if he thought too much about the length of thirteen days, how three-hundred or so hours wasn’t enough time— it’s not fucking FAIR —he would be swallowed by the crushing anxiety that made its permanent home in his stomach.
So there was that.
He didn’t bother telling his friends. They were already all on edge, but if he could act like all was well he could ease their worries. Because ultimately they were just worried about him, and if he was fine they would be too.
He did, however, make contingency plans. Farewell videos on a USB drive taped to the underside of his bed.
He wanted Clockwork to be wrong. Some nights he laid awake, trying his damndest to find a way off this track. This self-fulfilling prophecy. But there was nothing. That moment had already passed with that stupid news broadcast that had glued him to the couch, shaking, as his parents had shouted and jeered at the screen. Dismissive. Furious. Invested.
They hadn’t noticed when he pushed himself off the couch and stumbled, shaking, to the bathroom to purge the contents of his stomach.
It was a miracle he’d only gotten a two-day suspension for slugging Wes in the face in front of the whole cafeteria. Even more so that no one had pieced it together from that.
No one saw him. But they would. When it was too late.
He couldn’t stop it. But as he didn’t acknowledge it in the waking world it wouldn’t exist. So he reserved his existential crises for when there was nothing to distract him from the looming, inevitable deadline.
He wished he could tell Mr. Lancer that whenever he was given detention that afternoon.
On the night of the twelfth day, he didn’t sleep a wink. No amount of coffee could keep his head above his desk that morning, and so, Danny spent his final hour in detention. He considered skipping. Detention was not the place for everything to come to an end.
But wouldn’t leaving—deviating from his normal routine—up the chances of putting events in motion?
Avoidance was his specialty, after all.
Jazz could write a paper on his coping tactics alone if she hadn’t already. 
At nineteen minutes Mr. Lancer stopped in front of his desk. It was only him and Valerie today, and she sat somewhere three desks behind and to his left of him. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, loose yellow sleeves draped over her hands. The bags under her eyes rivaled his own, even though he was sure there hadn’t been too many ghosts in the past week or so—but then again, he’d not been the most attentive to things on the ghost front lately. It was probably his fault she was here at all. 
“Mr. Fenton,” Lancer said. He forced his head to turn, a feat much more difficult than it sounded. His head felt full of lead. “Is everything alright at home?”
Danny forced himself not to cringe.
“Uh.” He ignored the sound of Valerie shifting in her seat behind him. Great. An audience. “Yes.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been getting much less sleep of late, is all.”
Now this was a load of shit. Danny’s sleep schedule was normally trash. This current existential crisis was no more taxing than his normal night activities.
Lancer continued. “And your parents have—” he paused, eyes flitting somewhere behind him. “—in light of recent revelations, I just worry, Mr. Fenton.”
Hm.
Did he know, then?
Was this it?
Danny stared stupidly for a moment, forgetting to shut his mouth. And then shrugged.
Falling back on ignorance.
If he was honest, he hadn’t quite expected Lancer to be the one to put it together, but it also made sense. 
Lancer’s mouth thinned. “I know they can be intense, especially with the scrutiny placed on our school now. No one should feel scared to come to school. Or go home,” he said, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “This is a safe space.”
For a moment all he could hear was the drum of his heart in his chest. And then behind him, Valerie cleared her throat.
“With all due respect, Mr. Lancer,” she said, “nowhere is safe with that putrid ghost hiding among us.”
Danny didn’t turn around. Lancer’s reaction was subdued, but there was a protective fire in his eyes that confirmed Danny’s suspicions. He wondered how long ago he’d put it together.
“Ms. Gray,” Lancer said, “I see your point, but I’m just trying to ease tensions.”
Danny checked the clock.
Seventeen minutes. 
Maybe he should’ve skipped detention after all.
(No escaping the inevitable. No do-overs this time.)
Valerie scoffed. “So what? We let our guard down?” he chanced a glance behind him, and Valerie’s eyes were red-rimmed—from lack of sleep or otherwise he had no idea. “Someone here is a walking weapon and we’re supposed to ignore this? Fenton at least knows he’ll be safe at home, but what about the rest of us? We don’t get to go home to ghost-hunting parents—we have to hold our own.”
Lancer nodded. “I understand. I just think that it’s very frightening for all of us, ghost hunters or not.”
Danny’s voice cracked when he spoke. “Yeah.”
Valerie’s expression softened. “I didn’t mean to make light—”
“No. No, you’re right,” he said. “It’s not safe with Phantom as a student here. Whoever he is.”
She sighed. “Danny, I don’t know what it’s like with your parents, but—”
“But what?” he cut her off. “Because they’re ghost hunters they’re automatically the safest people in the room?” He lowered his voice. “You would think that.”
She froze. “What does that mean?”
Hm. Whoops.
“People don’t know what it’s like, I guess.”
Danny turned back around. Lancer’s stare was dripping with sympathy.
Fifteen minutes.
There was a scrape of a chair, a thud of feet, and a warm hand on his shoulder. Valerie released him just as fast. When he met her eyes, they were as wide as saucers.
“D—Danny,” she said with a note of panic. “You’re cold.”
“Yeah?” he asked.
She took a step back. He hadn’t seen her this scared since they’d been stranded on Skulker’s island together. He could see the realization dawning. 
“Val,” he said, knowing full well what was going through her head, “what’s wrong?”
“It’s not you,” she said, a desperate plea. “I can’t be this stupid.”
He sighed and Lancer stepped between them.
“Ms. Gray,” he said, “now let’s not jump to conclusions—”
“No!” she shook her head. “No, no, no! It doesn’t make sense. You’re—your parents hunt ghosts. Hunt Phantom.”
Danny crossed his arms.
“So do you.”
Lancer looked between them like Danny had announced that he liked eating golf balls. “What.”
Tears welled in Valerie’s eyes. “I trusted you!”
The minute hand inched forward.
Fourteen.
“You trusted me to what?”
Valerie clenched her fists. “Don’t do that! Don’t play stupid!”
“Ms. Gray—”
“I’m not playing.” Danny turned sideways in his desk, facing her head-on. “Tell me what you think I’ve done, Val.”
“Mr. Fenton—!”
“You replaced him. You replaced Danny. How long have you been pretending to be him? To be alive? How can you live with yourself, going home everyday and seeing his parents and—and—acting like you’re still—” she choked on her tears. “You terrorize this town, Phantom. I won’t let you take anything else from me, or anyone.”
Lancer’s eyes were wide. He’d never seen the man so shocked, in such foreign territory.
Valerie, on the other hand, was resolute. There was as much determination in her face as tears.
“I’m still me,” he said. “I died, but I came back. I never replaced myself, however that works. I am sorry, Val. There’s a lot that—”
“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! ”
“—that I didn’t mean to happen.”
Lancer slammed his hand on Danny’s desk.
“Can we all settle down!”
It all happened in a matter of seconds. The clock in his peripheral kept him tethered to the moment. 
Valerie reached behind her and pulled a blaster.
A flash of red—
(The minute hand moves.
Thirteen.)
—and a burst of hot pain through his side.
He crumpled forward, his head meeting the linoleum floor with a SMACK and somewhere above him a distant shout.
Everything from his side to his cranium THROBBED and it wouldn’t fucking stop.
(He’d taken hits from Val before. This shouldn’t hurt so much. Why does this—?)
Iron pooled in his mouth. 
Oh right.
Ectoplasm was thicker than blood.
Danny tried to push himself up from the floor but the world spun and his arms gave out below him and he slumped back down to the cold, hard floor.
The floor felt better.
Maybe he would…
Stay here for a while…
***
The television clicked on. A rerun of the six o’clock news.
He didn’t let Jazz turn it off.
“According to a recent report, there is speculation that our local ghost vigilante Phantom might be living among us. Care to tell us more, Lance?”
“Yes, Tiffany.” Lance Thunder’s stupid blonde hair was polished and perfect as usual and he wanted to wipe that stupid half-smile off the bastard’s face. “A ghost ID’ed as Walker —” at this, a crude picture that was mostly just a white blur appeared on the screen “— has publicly announced that our hero is a student at Casper High fooling us, flying under the radar.”
“And as far as we understand, tips from ghosts aren’t verifiable…?”
“Normally, yes, but there is evidence to suggest that—”
“This isn’t good for you,” Jazz hissed. “I know that it’s scary, but—”
“Exposure therapy,” he snapped back. “It’s gonna be the talk of the school anyway.”
She slumped back down onto the couch. “Take care of yourself.”
The door to the lab was thrown open. His parents marched through the kitchen and into the living room, perfectly eclipsing the TV.
“—telling you, Jack. The DNA scans are inconclusive at best. Their so-called ‘experts’ are out of their depths.”
“We’ll show them once and for all. If we can find out which student it’s using as cover—”
“—we’ll expose Phantom for the monster he is!”
His parents disappeared upstairs for the night, but he could still hear snippets of their vows to destroy him. 
He shot Jazz a tired look. “Easier said than done.”
***
Someone was touching him.
Everything on his left burned. Far above him were LEDs and beige ceiling tiles. He wasn’t sure when he’d been rolled onto his back. But he was now, and someone was pressing down on the spot that burned burned burned—!
Blood trickled down his throat.
How many minutes had it been?
How many did he have left?
There were voices, somewhere, but everything sounded like it was underwater. Maybe it was. Drowning would be preferable to many of the other deaths he’d prepared for. Still terrible, sure, but vivisection lowered the bar considerably. 
“—have you done!”
“He’s—” A girl’s voice wavered, quiet. “He’s Phantom. He’s not supposed to—to—”
Wow. Valerie had the decency to sound ashamed.
At least he could die knowing that his killer at least had a few shreds of regret.
(Is it sad that it’s more than he expected?)
“—little first aid.” The pain came in waves, and all Danny could hear was the rush of his stupid heart in his ears. “—expecting shootings in America, but not from a—” 
Just as fast as it came, the world melted away. His last grasp on consciousness slipped away.
(As fast as the click of a button.)
***
Wes had a punchable face.
But hey—that’s what you get for talking to the press. The accusations were written off as pretty baseless, but the damage had been done. He got inquisitive stares now and again. After all, Wes was a joke, but his interview put Danny’s name on the list of suspects and that was enough to fuck his entire life over.
After his two-day suspension, Danny had little opportunity to survey his work. Honestly, more people asked him about how bad he fucked up Wes’s face than whether or not he was Phantom.
(From what he had seen, it was in a perpetual state of purple and that was enough to curb his anger for now.)
So. He had two days off from school.
Danny went to see Clockwork.
Long Now welcomed him with welcome arms, and he broke down into a fit of whines and gripes about how it seemed like everyone was out to get him, that everyone wanted to put his head on a pike. Everyone wanted to ferret out the wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Clockwork shared their sympathies.
“No matter what I do, I just—I’m a wreck. I think someone’s figured it out. That they know, but then I mention it to Jazz or Sam or Tucker and I’m just paranoid and I think I’m paranoid now and—” he groaned. “I don’t know what to do. I’m losing my mind.”
“You do know that it’s inevitable that the truth comes to light.”
He froze. “What.”
Clockwork shifted from senior to adult. “Your paranoia isn’t for naught. It’s a matter of time.”
No. This couldn’t be happening.
He’d figure a way out.
There had to be something.
“I thought nothing was inevitable.”
“Not nothing,” Clockwork hummed. “Often, it is nothing. But not this time.”
Their words shook him to the core. He’d suspected it, sure, but confirmation was—
“I know it isn’t fair.”
“Don’t tell me what is and isn’t fair!” Danny snapped. “Your entire life isn’t—isn’t under scrutiny for everyone. If they know that I’m me, I—”
He pressed his hands to his chest.
He would be finished.
One way or another, someone would find a way to put him on their table.
The government.
His parents.
Maybe someone else out for his blood.
(His body.)
“I can’t see what will happen past them learning the truth,” Clockwork said. “But it is a fixed point. Everything past that diverges, a thousand roads. Timelines. Possibilities. I can’t tell you what to expect. The best, the worst. I cannot offer that reassurance.”
“Oh.”
They nodded. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“I don’t want them to find out,” he said in a pathetic whine.
For a long moment, Clockwork said nothing. If not for the constant ticking of clocks, he would have thought they were frozen. But then Clockwork’s expression shifted.
And they asked: 
“Would you like to know?” 
***
……
………
Warbled voices were around him again. Different.
But this time more in focus.
“Sir, Ma’am, if you could leave the room—”
“I will NOT. That is my son, and I am not leaving until someone tells me why there is a HOLE in his chest—!”
And somewhere else, a shriek of sobs.
“We’re transporting him to the hospital, you can’t—”
“I did it,” said that same, sobbing voice. “I shot him. I shot him.”
More people were touching him and Danny didn’t like it oh god no no no —
“—get him on the stretcher—”
“—the hell DID you—”
“—Ms. Gray, you—”
“—no! I want to know why—”
“—securing him, just—”
And now time did slow.
The EMTs lifted the stretcher.
And his face lolled to the side, giving him a clear view of the clock.
The minute hand moved one last time.
Just as:
“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t—he’s Phantom, I didn’t think that it would—!” Valerie, cut off, sobbing. “I’m so sorry, Danny. If you can hear me, I’m so sorry.”
And then there was silence.
Crushing darkness.
***
If he had any last doubts that his secret was out, they were snuffed out when he woke up in the hospital to the pained faces of his parents. Jazz was in the chair to his left, hair mussed up and asleep. His parents’ eyes were red with tears. In his delirium, he also noticed Sam’s backpack discarded in the corner.
How long had—?
“Two days.”
Clockwork appeared before him in their adult form. They swung their staff, looking rather pleased with themselves. Danny then realized the occupants of the room had been frozen as long as he’d been awake. 
“You’re recovering well, all considered.” Clockwork tapped a clipboard on a nearby table. “I will say, I am surprised that we took this route. It is what you might call a ‘spoiler,’ but it’s kinder than most.”
“Is it,” he said, voice hoarse.
Clockwork waited for him to finish coughing up his lungs before speaking again. “They’re handling it as best they can. I won’t say it’s great, but you’re on the way there.”
“I—what happened, again?”
And as he asked, it came rushing back.
Lancer. Valerie.
And paramedics?
Clockwork gave him a knowing smile. “Your teacher called an ambulance. In his panic, he might have let it slip that you were having a reaction because of a ghost weapon, and your parents were looped into the call.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Danny’s eyes found his frozen heart monitor, time stopped between beats. Below, his mother had tied off the top half of her HAZMAT suit and was wearing a black shirt beneath. He did notice that the contents of her weapons belt were emptied.
He turned back to Clockwork. “How did they take it?”
They shrugged. “Why don’t you ask them?”
“Wait—wait, I'm not ready.”
“How about this? I tell you how much time you have left.” They raised their staff. “Three—”
“Clockwork—”
“Two—”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Time in.”
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dat1angel · 4 months
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Friendly Neighborhood Dimension Hopper
Danny's home dimension becomes unsafe for him so he leaves. After some training from Wulf he learns how to make portals of his own and uses them to travel the multiverse, occasionally doing errands for Clockwork if he's in the right dimension for it. He discovers cool places and makes friends across many universes, spending time in some universes more than others. His other dimension friends have grown used to him coming and going at the most random times.
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halfghostwriter · 11 months
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“Do Not Offer Sacrifices to the New King.”
No one knows exactly why it happened. One day, there are clear instructions on how to prepare child sacrifices to the ghost king, the next said instructions are covered in green splatters, with bold black letters across them reading “Do Not Offer Sacrifices to the New King.” The phrase was written across every single set of instructions to summon the ghost king ever written down.
Of course, there were skeptics. People who believed some rogue individual was trying to invoke the Ghost King’s wrath by not preparing a sacrifice in exchange for the summoning. It wasn’t long before the first attempt at summoning this new king.
The cultists had prepared a fine sacrifice. The previous king was known to prefer very young sacrifices, as the potential years of life stripped away equated to the amount of power the king would absorb at the child’s death. It was for this reason that they had prepared a child of a mere 6 months old, coating it in the finest jewels and fabrics, and choosing a dull yet beautiful knife to slice through the child at the king’s arrival. The old king was said to enjoy watching the life drain slowly.
As the ritual began, the leader took his place by the child, raising the knife high above his head, preparing to strike down the moment the new king’s eyes were on him. Chanting filled the room, and the sigils on the floor burned with a toxic green glow. The infant began to cry, small hiccups echoing over the sound of ice cracking that began to fill the room. A being whose figure seemed to be made of the cosmos itself began to rise from the circle, eyes closed as it towered over the room. Small tendrils seemed to drift away from it, but kept flinching back, as if actively being restrained. As the beings glowing green eyes began to open, the cult leader leaned forward, preparing to shove the knife into the child.
But he couldn’t move.
He tried to push the knife downward, but it felt as if all of his joints were suddenly fused together. He couldn’t move his body. He couldn’t even move his head. All he could move were his eyes, which locked on to the glowing green pits staring right back at him.
“How… Dare… You….”
The words shook the room, causing the infant to wail. The being, the king, flinched back, and his body began to warp into something… smaller. Younger. A child, barely entering puberty. He floated towards the sacrifice, softly shushing the child as he approached. Delicately, as if it were made of glass, he lifted the sacrifice and held it close, stroking its head as he continued making calm, soothing sounds. He did so until the wails dimmed down to mere hiccups. Once that happened, he turned his eyes to the leader.
“How. Dare. You.”
He kept his voice at a mere whisper. His tone could almost be considered pleasant, had his face not conveyed such burning hatred.
“Did you seriously not listen to my instructions? I wasn’t subtle, writing that on every single ghost king summoning in the world isn’t something just anyone can do. Are you stupid or something?”
The leader wanted to say something. Beg for mercy, plead for forgiveness, anything. But his jaw wouldn’t move. No part of his body would move. He felt cold. He glanced around the room, hoping some other cult member would see his dilemma, would speak up for him. But instead of panicked members on their knees begging for forgiveness, he only saw figures encased in ice.
“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”
The leader’s eyes locked back on to the king’s enraged glare.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I am taking this child somewhere where they won’t be hurt. You,” the king poked a clawed finger into the left side of the leader’s chest, “are going to help spread the word. Make sure everyone knows not to offer sacrifices to me. You have a lot of influence, I’m sure you can get it done. Oh, but in case you don’t…”
Veins of warm ice began creeping up the leader’s chest, beginning from where the king was poking, down his arm, and up his face.
“There. If anyone, and I mean anyone, offers up a sacrifice as young as yours, at any point in time, those ice veins with expand and freeze you to death. After that, whoever offered up that sacrifice will take your place spreading the word. And don’t worry about your cult members, they’ll defrost within a day to help you out.”
The young king turned away, and floated back to the sigils, small infant in hand.
“You’re pretty lucky, you know. If I weren’t having such a good day, I wouldn’t have just left you off with a warning.”
And with that, the king and the infant leave through the summoning circle in the floor.
Within days, it’s known that the new king despises anyone who dares give him a sacrifice.
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torscrawls · 7 months
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Batman’s no-kill policy is ectophobic
Summary:
“Well that just makes it sound like he thinks ghosts are worse than humans, you know? And! It got me thinking, Batman refuses to kill his enemies, right?” “Right,” Tim faintly agreed, desperately trying to make sense of this conversation. Phantom relentlessly continued, oblivious to Tim’s spiraling sanity. “Maybe that’s because he thinks that ghosts are less than humans! He doesn’t want to create more of us.”
Phantom is upset that Batman refuses to kill his enemies. Tim just wants his shift to start so he can get out of this conversation.
Words: 1 245
You can read the whole thing on AO3.
-
Tim was sitting in the break room of the Watchtower, mindlessly flipping channels on the big wall-mounted TV while trying to wake up for his next shift. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Phantom slowly drift in front of the big windows, face almost pressed against the glass and his whole attention fixed on the stars outside.
This in and of itself wasn’t anything uncommon; Phantom seemed to have an almost obsessive fascination with space, but what had caught Tim’s attention was the frown on the ghost’s face. Normally he would have a dreamy expression if not a big smile on his face as he watched the expanse outside the windows, but not today. And Tim was willing to admit that it was getting to him.
After another few minutes of switching between channels, silence, and no change in the frowning Tim pressed the off button on the remote and heaved a sigh as he turned to face the window and the floating ghost. “What’s wrong?”
Phantom startled as if he had forgotten he wasn’t alone in the room, or as if he had forgotten he could be seen by others. He had a bad habit of forgetting to turn himself visible and scaring the shit out of people around the tower. He looked over his shoulder and fixed Tim with a wide eyed, literally shining, look of confusion. “What do you mean wrong?”
Tim made a vague gesture at the ghost. “You’ve been frowning ever since I got here. Did something happen?”
Phantom turned around in the air, spinning on his own axis until he was looking at Tim upside down. Tim noted that his hair stayed in the same position throughout. He wasn’t jealous, not at all.
“Well, I was just thinking... Does Batman hate ghosts?”
Tim blinked, thrown by the direction the conversation had taken. “What? No?”
The frown on Phantom’s face deepened as he righted himself in the air. “But he just told me that he ‘was sorry for my loss’, as if something bad had happened? And when I asked him what he meant he said he regretted not being able to save me.”
Tim paused, weighting his words carefully before slowly saying, “I’m sure he just meant that he was sorry that you had… You know…” Tim trailed off, winced, and then forced out, “Died.”
It was always a hard subject to breach, nobody liked to think about death. The Justice League and the Batfamily had all come to the unanimous decision to avoid the subject around their newest member since they were convinced that he would react badly to the topic.
Phantom snorted. “Yeah I know. Kinda hard to miss.”
“I didn’t mean—”  
But Phantom cut him off, “Wait. Is that why none of you talk about death around me? You’re scared that I’m gonna be, what? Offended?”
“Well… No?” Tim said unconvincingly.
Phantom laughed. “Oh my Ancients! You did! That’s so cute!”
“You know, we don’t really talk about death with each other either,” Tim said, feeling like he had to defend himself somehow.
Phantom tilted his head, still smiling. “Why?”
Tim blinked, thrown by the question. “Because… People don’t like to think about that?”
Phantom pursed his lips in thought. “See, that’s what I meant! Isn’t that just kinda rude? I mean, I’m dead, does that mean you guys don’t wanna think about me?”
“No?” Now it was Tim’s turn to frown. “That’s different.”
“Hmm,” Phantom hummed, looking unconvinced.
Tim scrambled for a change in subject and latched onto the first thing that came to mind. “So why would you think that Bruce hated you just because he said he was sorry for your loss?”
“Well that just makes it sound like he thinks ghosts are worse than humans, you know? And! It got me thinking, Batman refuses to kill his enemies, right?”
“Right,” Tim faintly agreed, desperately trying to make sense of this conversation.
Phantom relentlessly continued, oblivious to Tim’s spiraling sanity. “Maybe that’s because he thinks that ghosts are less than humans! He doesn’t want to create more of us.”
Tim had to step in at that, feeling like they weren’t on the same page when it came to some very important fundamentals. “Phantom, you—you understand that people don’t like dying, right? It’s the end.”
Phantom tilted his head with a look of confusion. “It’s not though?”
And Tim guessed that was true. He couldn’t really argue the point with a literal ghost, now could he?
“The town I come from, people don’t really care. Death, life, it’s kinda all the same,” Phantom said happily, as if that wasn’t a very troubling statement to make. And with no respect for Tim’s quickly dwindling sanity, he continued with a thoughtful finger tapping at his lower lip, “Except that death has a lot more flying in it. And energy beams.”
Tim made a mental note to try and find out exactly what town Phantom was talking about. Hopefully it wasn’t one on Earth. He managed a resigned, “Of course,” and hoped that was the end of the conversation. He needed to have enough energy left for his whole shift after all.
But Phantom just nodded and continued on, “Batman refusing to kill his enemies is all just an obvious ploy not to have them move on as ghosts!”
“Obviously,” Tim faintly agreed.
“That’s messed up! He just wants to trap them in the human realm with him so he can torment them forever!” Phantom shook his head. “I know a couple of people in the Zone who would love to exchange torture ideas with him. I thought that Fright Knight was scary and now I’m working with a guy like that, can you believe it?”
Tim couldn’t. “I—I don’t think that’s what he means by that.”
Phantom huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms. “It’s blatant ectophobia, is what it is!”
Tim opened his mouth to try and come up with an argument when the subject of their argument stepped into the break room. Bruce addressed him with clear disapproval in his voice, “Red Robin, you’re late for your shift.”
Tim had never been so grateful to receive Bruce’s disappointment. At least he wasn’t alone in this shitshow of a conversation anymore. “I’m sorry. Me and Phantom was just having a conversation about how you’re clearly discriminatory towards ghosts.”
Bruce stopped from where he had turned to leave. “…What?”
Phantom nodded. “Yeah! Don’t think I’ve forgotten your rude comment earlier about your condolences!”
Despite the bizarre situation, Tim almost laughed at the shocked expression on Bruce’s face, visible even under the mask. His father opened his mouth, closed it, and tried again, “I was just saying that I wish I could have helped you before you ended up as a ghost.”
“And I’m saying that that’s clearly showing a preference for living people!”
Bruce pressed his mouth into a thin line before saying, “I think we need to have a conversation about the value of life if you’re going to be joining us on any more rescue missions.”
“See!” Phantom looked at Tim as he gestured angrily at Bruce “There he goes again!”
Tim got up from the sofa. “I’m late for my shift.” And he left the break room as if the ghosts of hell were at his heals. Which they kind of were; Phantom’s angry voice following him down the corridor. He really wasn’t awake enough for this shit.
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crimzon0king · 7 months
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my Danny design for my silly, cute, wholesome, and not at all suffering-filled fanfic!!!
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kettlefire · 10 months
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Continuation of this post -
Tag requested: @kyrianclawraith
DC x DP Therapy Prompt 2.0
Bruce had given Danny all the power that went into picking a therapist, which is fine. That's what the kid needed.
What he didn't expect to already blow through eight different therapists.
Danny lived in little ole Amity Park, no one had expected him to have connections all the way to Gotham. Yet, Danny claimed to recognize 2 our of 8 therapist.
Then finally, just finally Bruce thought he found the right one. Her history was ridiculously impressive, and she seemed to have a good hand in handling teenage boys.
Bruce wished he met her ages prior. It would be easier than his boys being at different therapists. Bruce felt ready, prepared, and lucky.
But then Danny walked in...
And then right out.
Fear rose in him with every chasing step along the way back to the car. Danny had ignored him every step of the way. Up until they were buckled into the ride and Bruce was preparing himself to move on.
Then Danny spoke, and immediately all of Bruce's worries and fears flooded out of him.
This wasn't the one. She wasn't the one that made Danny hesitant about therapy.
No.
She was his sister. Danny's rush leave was solely from the fact that he was met with this sister. His sister who thought it was a good idea to mention this to Bruce.
Regardless, Bruce was most opposed to meeting said therapist.
Danny had been so strong on his rules of engagement. Bruce wasn't to meet a therapist until after the fifth session.
Which the man was perfectly fine with. He loved Danny, and only wanted the best for the teen.
However!
That didn't stop the rambunctious laughter that ripped through him at the teen's flushed cheeks.
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bongo-clash · 1 year
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Peacock Au Part 3
(Part One & Two here!!!)
Continuation of the Eldritch Danny DPxDC fic!!!! This is Kind Of the final chapter but Bones has also been making my brain go So Wild with other ideas so!!! Big chance they'll be more parts at some point (probably after Ectober week if I do!!)
Either Way Here It Is
(Fic under cut!!) (+ Part 4 Here)
-
Constantine makes the executive decision not to explain anything to Batman until the other League members are gathered in the watchtower meeting room. Maybe not his best choice, evidenced for the most part by the seething glare the vigilante is shooting him from his place at the head of the table, but still, John really doesn’t want to have to talk about this any more than he has to. It’s already going to be a pain in his side as is. 
It doesn’t take long for the rest to appear through the zeta tubes. Superman and Wonder Woman predictably arriving first of the lot, followed by Zatanna, the Flash, and then Green Lantern. Once they’re all settled and he figures this is all the people that’ll be showing up today, he deigns to begin speaking. He might’ve appreciated a bit of a higher attendance rate, but he’ll take it. 
“Alright, you lot,” He starts, just as the Green Lantern opens his mouth, likely to ask what this whole meeting is for. “I believe we’ve got a little bit of a situation on our hands.”
“Situation how, Constantine.” Batman asks, eyes narrowed behind the cowl, the furthest thing from a question. 
Constantine sighs deeply, fingers fidgeting in his coat pocket for a cigarette even if he knows he can’t smoke in the watchtower (maybe he could just hold one…). In lieu of looking the man in the face, however, he addresses everyone else in the room. “Well, see, the Bat here had a Pit forming in his territory, and he decided it’d be a bloody brilliant idea to call me for help instead of literally anyone else. The good news is the Pit’s gone. The bad news is I’m pretty sure the thing that got rid of it is worse.”
A few of them make faces, since if Constantine’s involved then this is definitely a magic problem, and none of them are fans of magic problems- Superman looks like he’s trying not to twitch. “Can you describe it?” 
“Not properly, no. Big, bright, bit of a space theme going on? Had these horrible things on them, kept changing between eyes and mouths and hands- used those to reach out and get rid of the Lazarus Pit, ‘far as I could see. They knew I was doing it for the Big Bat even though I never said a word about it, and from what I understand, they wanted a favour for sorting it out. I don’t know what they want it for.”
Batman’s face is unreadable, but there’s a scrutiny there that permeates the air around him. “So you discovered the existence of a powerful, unknown entity, and not only did you deign to summon it into our world, but you then proceeded to make a deal with it as well, completely unaware of the potential consequences.”
“In my defence,” Constantine retorts. “This is entirely your fault for getting me involved. I’ve no clue why you thought coming to me was a solid plan in the first place.”
There’s a storm brewing beneath that bat mask, but Wonder Woman intercepts before it can descend into a full-blown argument. “Now is no time to be assigning blame, we need a plan. Do you know of any way we can attain more information on this being, Constantine?”
“Not the foggiest,” He replies simply. “The only thing the book said was that it could help with the Pits. When I asked the damn thing what it was, it just gave me a riddle and, quite frankly, I wasn’t going to push it. So unless Zatanna has anything, I’ve got nothing.”
The whole table turns to look at Zatanna. She has a contemplative look on her face, pausing for the moment presumably to run through the information in her head. “Well, there’s a lot of entities around whose existences centre on keeping the balance between realms or concepts, but this is the first I’ve heard about anything like this. The closest thing I could think of is maybe Pariah Dark, since he’s known to have a connection to the Lazarus Pits, but he’s been out of commission for centuries now, and he’s never been depicted at all the way you described…”
“…And I know for a fact that his summoning ritual requires a blood sacrifice, and this thing didn’t want blood.” Constantine finishes. 
Zatanna makes a sour face, seeming to understand his implications, and the remaining non-magic members of the JL look appropriately disturbed. He thinks the worst thing about it for them is probably that there’s no real way to plan this out. They’ve got no power list, no strengths, no weaknesses, they don’t even really know what the entity is beyond its relation to the Lazarus Pits and even that’s an area of questionability, because the Pits are damn confusing on their own. If this thing shows up on them now, they’re screwed.
And just as the thought crosses his mind, there’s a tangible shift in the watchtower atmosphere, like the air’s thinning and closing in on itself at the same time. He looks at Zatanna with matching confusion, praying to gods he’s never met and that don’t like him that he hasn’t just managed to jinx himself in the worst way possible. 
“Do you feel that?” He says, and it doesn’t look like it’s only the other magic user in the room that does, because a fair few of the remaining League are pulling expressions Constantine really doesn’t like. Please, please say he hasn’t jinxed himself. 
There’s a sound like whale song and whistling as something comes up through the floor, and there’s not enough languages on Earth or beyond to encapsulate how many swears John wants to say right now. 
But it’s not the entity. 
Or at least, it doesn’t look like the entity, even if it certainly feels like it. It kind of looks like a teenager, of all the awful things. They have flare-white hair, bright, sheepish green eyes, and they’re wearing what Constantine thinks is a hazmat suit but doesn’t know enough about hazardous material protection to say for certain. No alarms going off, no doors opening or shutting, no signals at all; just a weird breeze, and the few seconds of warning that gives before the being appeared. That’s worrying. The way the League doesn’t even say anything is more so. 
“Hi,” They start, after what feels like an eternity of silence, and oh boy, they really do sound about twelve. Constantine doesn’t know how to deal with children, let alone ones that can just phase into the most secure superhero base in Earth’s orbit. This is awful. “Okay, so, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, so I just wanted to, y’know, rectify my first impression? Uh, sorry if I came across sort of… weird.”
Everyone looks at the glowing kid. Everyone looks at each other. No one knows what to say. Flash decides to be the one to break the silence with a cough. “That’s great, kid! Uh… who are you, though?”
“Oh!” They startle. “Right. Me and Constantine met yesterday- I think I kind of scared him? It was by accident, though, I promise! I’d just had a long day, y’know? I didn’t know I was gonna get summoned and I wasn’t thinking so everything just kind of happened.”
No way. 
No. No way in Hell.
“You are not that thing I summoned yesterday.” 
And he knows, he knows entities like that tend to have forms more palatable for mortal eyes, but after seeing that yesterday, his brain just cannot for the life of it connect it to this. This child floating mid-air in a base he shouldn’t be able to access, with big huge earnest eyes and a painfully youthful face. One that seems to have reached a realisation. 
“Ah,” He says, smile just a little bit wry. “Fair enough, I did look kinda different then. Just- here, this should look a little more familiar?”
It’s not a full shift. He doesn’t contort into the same mind-searing thing that Constantine had had to bear yesterday- but his eyes scatter into neon spots across his face, nose and mouth left intact, the neck of his jumpsuit folds into the creases of an open eye, and those peacock-membrane-whatevers fall into fruition on his back, drifting like a cape or like spines. And just to top it all off, there’s a dinky little crown floating above his head, decorated with icicles and whispers of mist. 
It’s not a full shift, but Constantine’s never going to forget those damn cosmic peacock feathers. No mistaking it: that’s the entity. Forget yesterday, this is the worst day of his life. 
“What the Hell is happening right now.” Green Lantern flatlines, face dulled into non-understanding. Constantine thinks he feels the same way but worse. 
He takes a deep, cleansing breath, and tries not to scream. “You’re the one who sorted the Pit problem out?”
“Uh, yep, that’s me.”
“Okay, great! Fantastic. Can you tell me what the Hell that whole deal was?”
What’s left of the maybe teenager’s face drops somewhat, and a gloved hand reaches up to rub at the back of what’s left of his neck. “Ha, right, yeah sorry.” He mumbles, and Constantine kind of feels bad, but he’s also still kind of suffering from the adrenaline high of meeting the guy yesterday, so he guesses they’re even now. 
“So, I mean, I don’t usually look like that? It is my true form or whatever, but I’m not really… I don’t hang about in it too often. Gives people the heebie jeebies, y’know? I don’t want to scare people out of nowhere, especially not for a first meeting! But I was about to go to sleep last night when you summoned me, and I wanted to shift my form a little just to be more formal about the whole thing, but I guess I let the whole thing go by accident, and I didn’t realise at all until I got home. And if I was in that form by accident- I usually go with ghostspeak during summonings ‘cause it’s easier in that way and there’s usually translation sigils embedded in the circle- but if I was in that form by accident, then I was probably using a different dialect to the one I thought I was, so if I sounded kind of off, then that’s why. Again, really sorry about that. This was totally not how I wanted my first impression with the Justice League to go. You’re all really cool, y’know? I wanted to get off on the right foot and not the ‘let’s fight each other’ foot.”
Constantine blinks, opens his mouth, closes his mouth, and then blinks again. He’s sure there’s a reasonable response to this that can be expressed in a sentence somewhere, but right now he’s too enamoured with how utterly absurd this is. He genuinely, honestly does not know what’s worse: that this kid can turn into that, or that he can turn into that and it’s so natural he doesn’t even notice. 
Still, as consistent as the sun sets, Batman’s the first one to break the stupor, interjecting with narrowed eyes. “How do we know you’re not a threat to us? We don’t even know who you are.”
“Uh,” The kid splutters. “I didn’t introduce myself. My name’s Danny.”
“Danny.” Batman replies flatly. 
“It’s a nice name!” Danny, apparently, defends, looking about as stupefied as someone can without eyes on their face. The dinky little crown drifts after him when he moves his head. “And, um, I don’t know how to prove I’m not a threat? I mean, I closed up that Lazarus Pit for you, if that counts as being helpful in a non-threatening way?”
If anything, Constantine would think that makes someone more threatening. “You said you wanted a favour for it, that you were going to ‘find your recompense’.”
“No I didn’t?” Danny says incredulously, before he pauses and his lips part in an O. “Right, translation error, duh. I uh, didn’t actually say that, that’s just how the sigils took it I think. You don’t owe me anything. It might be nice to get some help if I’m ever in a bind or something, but we didn’t make a deal or a pact or anything, you just asked for help, so I helped. 
His brain completely shuts down, blue-screen style. This isn’t how this type of thing goes. There’s no way this is that easy. “You seriously don’t want anything.” 
“I mean, an autograph might be nice. My friend thinks you and batman are cool.”
“You don’t think the rest of us are cool?” Flash complains, because that’s exactly what he’s supposed to be getting out of this conversation and not how utterly insane it is. 
Danny, the kid that’s going to be giving him nightmares and is already giving him migraines, has the audacity to look embarrassed. “I think you’re cool; obviously you’re all cool, you’re the Justice League! My friend’s just into the edgier members, I guess? She’s goth.”
“Oh? So who’s your favourite?” Why is no one acknowledging that the incomprehensible cosmic horror just called him edgy. Why are they just moving past this. 
“…Martian Manhunter and Green Lantern. I really like space.”
Yeah, no shit, he’s made of it. 
Constantine genuinely wants to pass out. He wants Batman to get him over the head with a batarang; he wants Superman to tap him on the forehead and give him a concussion, just- anything not to be here right now. This might not even be the weirdest thing that’s happened to him, but he’s hating every minute of it. This kid’s talking and existing like it’s nothing but even as the conversation begins to border on casual the atmosphere is still thick, nearly physical with the chill and the chiming of bells and the way something shifts every time those peacock feathers waver behind him. 
Right now, John really, truly does not care if this entity’s playing some kind of twisted long con to trick them into sacrificing their souls or something equally as horrifying. He just wants to go home and forget anything ever happened. “So, you’re not a malicious entity.” Constantine states finally, putting an end to any further back-and-forth that he’d managed to tune out. 
“I promise you I’m not.” Danny replies seriously, even as his features shift back to something more human-looking that only seems like it’s trying and failing to hide something bigger underneath it now. 
Constantine puts his hands in his pockets, and turns straight to the door. “Brilliant news. I’m leaving now. I hope we never have to see each other again.” The League and that kid can do whatever they want, but Constantine swears on everything he holds sacred that he’s not touching any of it with a ten-foot pole. He never wants to have to deal with anything like this again, and he is never agreeing to do Batman another favour. 
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glassroo · 11 months
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pov you wrote a fucked up dp fanfic and i (mentally unwell) have found it
shoutouts to Ghosting, Echoes, Mortified, Phantom of Truth, and once again Something's Wrong With Danny Fenton for all being incredibly well written fanfics that have also irreparably damaged me
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starppleb · 23 days
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A new One Shot that I wrote today!
Rating: General Audiences
Archive Warning: Major Character Death
Category: Gen
Fandom: Danny Phantom
Relationships: Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton & Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton
Characters: Danny Fenton, Maddie Fenton, Jazz Fenton
Additional Tags: Mentioned Sam Manson, Mentioned Tucker Foley, Identity Reveal, the major character death is danny, One Shot, Fluff, and maybe angst, Good Parent Maddie Fenton, Grammarly is my beta
Words: 1,234
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
Maddie noticed changes with Danny. Other than his drop in grades and broken curfews. She noticed how changed the way he talked and put himself. She wouldn't want to admit how long it took her.
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comingchameleon · 8 months
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There's Ghosts Haunting the House of Mystery
☆☆☆☆☆
Pick up, pick up, bloody pick up!
Hearing the phone ring...and ring...and ring, before it went to the same automated voicemail John had been hearing for the last couple of minutes - "Hello, this is Clockwork, Master of Time. If I haven't gotten back to you before you heard this message, I'm most likely ignoring you - nevertheless, I'll eventually get back to you in a timely manner. Goodbye." - before abruptly cutting off with a resounding beep.
Stupid old codger. John thought bitterly.
Having to use his own money to buy the old ghost coot a phone, just in case a situation like this ever arose, (even though he could very well get his own one for free in any time stream that he wanted) and he still couldn't even be bothered to pick up the blasted thing!
Ending the call before the machine recording could pick up any of the curses he muttered, Constantine let out a weary sigh before pocketing his phone is his coat and looking back at the situation laid out before him.
Batarangs embedded in the living room couch, green fire covering both the ceiling and the knocked over telly, and various miscellaneous things scattered all over the floor - though the most damning thing being the guilty three-person party in the middle of it all.
A snow-haired, lanky, teenage half-ghost of a boy, a miniature pre-teen female, almost clone of said boy, and a hulking, psychotic (medical condition as he called it), twenty-something year old, ghost man-child from an alternate timeline.
All three looking different degrees of remorseful.
Oh, it was a sight to behold, that was for sure.
....Though, if anything, the thing that John was most surprised by, was that the House of Mystery hadn't kicked out the trio in the time that he was gone, for making such a mess inside her.
"So...tell me again. What exactly happened while I was away, on call for Zatanna?"
Having been continuously pestered by the Bat over a number of days for information relevant to a supernatural anomaly in one of his cases, and because his go-to, Zatanna, was away on an interdimensional mission, it was a wonder that Batman didn't show up at his doorstep sooner.
So, Constantine actually had a pretty good idea of what had happened while he was away, but getting the full picture never hurt.
Breaking the silent glaring contest he was having with the floor, Dan let out an amused huff, his luminescent red eyes locking onto Constantine's shorter stature.
"Oh, so is that what we're calling hookups for old folks, now?"
The two liminals besides him snorted at the sarcastic comment before schooling their faces back into the blank expressions they were trying - and failing, to maintain.
Ah, kids. Annoying little bastards, always quick to backtalk you. Which is why John never wanted any. Yet here he was. Pseudo step-guardian to three eldritch ones.
"I would deny that, but we both know how much truth that statement holds - isn't that right, Spooks?" John drawled, shifting his weight to get a better view of the sitting room - and hopefully an (intact) bat-shaped man somewhere in it.
The truth was, he was, surprisingly, not lying about being called for help by Zatanna. Something about needing help distracting an interdimensional tyrannical ruler, while she played Indiana Jones in said ruler's heavily guarded dungeon, in hopes of finding a magical relic.
Safe to say, there was no hanky-panky during any of that, though Constantine was cutting it close. Turned out that specific ruler had a thing for cheeky, blond blokes.
"So. Out with it, then."
Ellie, being the most extroverted out of the three, floated forwards a couple of inches. White hair flowing in the nonexistent wind, her face scrunched up in a thoughtful expression, trying to find out where to start explaining.
"Thing is...Danny and I were playing keep away with the TV remote, and Dan was being a sore loser", Dan shot daggers at her for that comment, though Ellie was quick to stick her tongue out at him before continuing, "and starting shooting ectoblasts at us - and I guess during the fight we didn't hear the bat guy come in, because then he started throwing batarangs at Dan and...ta-da." She finished with a sardonic smile, gesturing to the living room.
Fucking hell.
Giving ol' Bruce access to the House of Mystery probably wasn't one of his better ideas, but it beat having the man bombard him with messages all hours of the day until he answered. 
He had never come to the House of his own accord before, preferring to keep his distance from John and usually having the know-how between his own occult library (mind you, the one Constantine was still banned from) and Zatanna, not to have to.
And he just had the shittiest timing, showing up on his doorstep when John wasn't around.
"Bollocks. Ah - okay, I see. So, where is ol' Batsy now?"
The three gave each other a quick look before Danny spoke up. "We plead the fifth."
Constantine felt his headache grow.
Ancients. This was definitely Clockwork's way of getting back at him for cheating the House of Mystery's keys out from under him, during that poker game, from oh-so long ago.
He may have thought he was being clever at the time, cheating Father Time, but now it was becoming clear this was all carefully planned out by the old ghost.
"Look - I may not care much for the Bats - but I need to know if he's still alive, at least. Since I haven't seen neither hide nor hair of him - and I know those batarangs didn't come out of your arses. So, who did what to him, Dan and Ellie." John said pointedly. "And don't try to blag your way out of it."
The two prime suspects in question, squawked at the accusation.
"Hey, wait - I dragged a dead body around one time, and it was a prank!"
"A guy destroys one alternate timeline Earth, one time - and now he's being accused of everything."
John raised a brow at them. Really, time was not on their side (thanks to a presently missing Ancient) as the seconds ticked by, with Constantine having an unspoken staring contest with the two young ghosts in front of him.
Running out of patience for said interrogation and John's version of "intimidation", Dan was the first to break eye contact, making his way to the still burning couch before flopping onto it.
"While I definitely did kill that pathetic excuse of a man in my timeline," he harrumphed, absentmindedly plucking out one of the batarangs embedded in the couch's armrest, "I didn't kill him in this one." He finished, before swiftly crushing it in his hand.
John sighed, not really knowing if he believed the oldest ghost, given his track record. Hopefully the big oaf wasn't lying, but now that only left two...
"Wasn't me!" Ellie responded, shrugging her shoulders as she turned invisible.
"They say you gotta watch out for the quiet ones." She said teasingly, voice echoing around the room.
So that really only left - "Danny..." John started, noticing the halfa flinch now that Constantine's full attention was on him.
Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, Danny was making a valiant effort to look anywhere but Constantine.
"Where. Is. Batman."
"Well, you see - the thing is - t-that -" The halfa stuttered, starting to look greener and greener by the second.
"Dude vored Batman." Ellie butted in, reappearing over John's shoulder.
"Ellie!"
"Well you did!"
"...What?" Oh, Ancients. John needed a smoke.
"Gobbled him up like he was ecto-dejecto." Ellie continued, lazily rolling over midair to Constantine's other shoulder.
"Like he was a Nasty Burger burger." Dan snickered from the couch.
"Oh my god, that is not how it happened!" Danny protested, face now completely blushed green. "The dude had blood blossoms - and I had to save your sorry butt," he pointed accusingly at Dan, "before he completely kicked it."
"Why you-" Dan snarled, ears tinging green.
"What, embarrassed that you were getting your butt kicked by a furry?" Danny mocked.
Both ghosts turned their attention to each other, bickering as Ellie watched, occasionally interjecting to instigate the squabbling further.
Shakily lighting himself a cigarette, John took in a big inhale, before slowly let it back out.
Okay. Okay. Batman was swallowed whole by the Prince of the Infinite Realms...Great. Peachy. This would definitely go great when the Justice League found out and not at all, bite him in the ass.
...
Couldn't he just leave him where he was..? No one would be the wiser...
...No! No.
His little posse of birds probably knew where he was, and John didn't need Bruce's whole brood after him.
"...Can you spit him back out?" John asked, interrupting the bickering trio.
Danny made a face at that. "Yeah, I can. But it's not gonna be pretty."
Taking another drag of his cigarette, Constantine nodded. "Well, go on, then."
"Okay...but you have to turn around. Please, Constantine." The halfa pleaded, giving him the best puppy dog eyes he could muster.
John grumbled before complying, turning his back to the teenage halfa. The sooner this ordeal was over the better.
Making sure the british man in front of him wasn't due to turn around anytime soon, Danny's eyes started to glow a brighter green as he stretched his mouth far wider than was humanly possible.
Hearing the hush of quiet before abruptly hearing the loud efforts of Danny gagging and retching, before a resoundingly heavy slimy "plop!" hit the floor behind him, John was relieved that the halfa told him not to look.
Coughing a bit more to make sure everything was out of his stomach, Danny wiped his face before replying to the Brit.
"He's out, Constantine. You can look."
Turning around, John found a disoriented, but not digested, Batman covered in green, ectoplasmic bile.
Crouching down to eye level, Constantine took out a rag from his coat - offering it to the man before him.
"Hello, Bats. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. I wish I was saying this under better circumstances, but let's get you out of those clothes, ay?"
Grabbing the Brit's outreaching hand, Constantine pulled the Gotham vigilante up, and helped him up, shouldering his leaning weight and leading him to one of the many bathrooms in the House to get cleaned up.
Three luminescent watching them go, all three trying to figure out how long they would be grounded because of today's incident.
"...And by the way, since I did get you out of your predicament, how about not telling the rest of your Boy Scouts club about what happened today..."
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snaileer · 1 year
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New Danny Phantom Idea
Ghostly reversal!
Danny phantom but he’s a Zone-borne ghost who was trying to learn teleportation/portals at the same time the Fentons tried to open their portal.
And now he’s half-human!! And he can’t go too long without turning back into a human, which makes him fall through stuff in the zone.
So he starts to spend some more time in the Living Realm- sorry, Earth- and he meets some really cool mortal people, this one reminds him of Technus and this one looks like Ember but less blue and more plants.(What’s a goth?)
And they’re working to help him figure out this whole living thing. Who knew you had to eat and they couldn’t just absorb their atmosphere. Weirdos..
And of course, because he’s now in this crazy new world with all these new things to explore and what do you mean you have a place you can learn about it!!
So Danny starts going to school, except it’s kinda hard with his ghost friends coming through all the time to hang out. (Danny doesn’t really get why the people give him such weird looks for coming in when the front teacher person is already talking)
“What’s your name then kid?”
“Uh… Danny..?”
The Jock raised an eyebrow, “Danny…what, no last name loser?”
Danny froze glancing at the new human friends he’d made, both of which were freaking out and of no help.
A head of red hair blocked his vision.
“Danny fenton. He’s my little brother, Dash. Back off.”
“Danny Fenton. That’s me….” He gave a little wave as the Jock stomped off.
The new red head girl turned around with curiosity in her gaze, “Nice to meet you little brother, I have questions.”
And of course Jazz…. Well she’s just interested to see what ghosts are actually like.
From the first ghost to ever live.
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sinorim-pisani · 4 months
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tl;dr The Danny Phantom fandom is just obsessed with Found Family and I FALL FOR IT EVERY TIME
Hear me out, people, hear me out......
FRAIDS.
that's it that's the post.
jk jk that is absolutely not the post, because I have SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT FRAIDS. Danny Phantom lore at it's FINEST.
Strap in folks, it's about time for another (weirdly long??) DP word blast!
Now this could be the "found family trope" lover in me, but I freaking love the possibilities that exist when it comes to the concept of a ghost fraid. What I've read in fics is just *chef's kiss*. We have the mental links, the ectoplasm based threads that bind everyone together, the found family idea of course, and pleeeeenty of angst potential. But I wanna talk about the nitty gritty details.
What is a Fraid, if not a subconsciously and artificially created link based on a ghost's heightened feelings of attachment, or ownership? Bear with me, I can explain; we'll use Danny and his Fraid as an example here. Typically, when introducing the idea that Danny is connected to his friends and Jazz and Dani via the concept of a "Fraid", fic authors use the image of threads created with ectoplasm to tell the reader that the group is connected together on a higher level. These threads are often a result of Danny unknowingly marking his people as his, and thereby telling the ghost world that messing with these people means messing with Phantom himself. To me, this sounds a lot like Danny is essentially layering his own ectoplasm onto his group so frequently, intensely, and even intently (despite his continued ignorance to what his ghostly side is doing), that his resulting Fraid essentially becomes a part of himself. The ectoplasmic threads are then a physical manifestation of Danny's ectoplasm as it exists in his friends.
But if this is the case, could a Fraid ever be created intentionally?
Let's lay out the apparent requirements to create a Fraid, based on the proposed example above. I'm postulating that, to create a Fraid, the ghost needs to 1) spend a sizable portion of time around the future fraid members, 2) feel strong feelings of possession, protection, obligation, or what have you, 3) maintain a large amount of affection for their persisted presence, and 4) feel safe enough around them to allow their ectoplasm to manifest like an aura, rather than keep it tightly inside and controlled. In Danny's case, all of these conditions are met by Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Dani, and they are typically the ones you see being placed in Danny's Fraid. His parents aren't on that list, as they fail to meet condition 4, and possibly even condition 3 (which is not to say Danny doesn't feel affection towards his parents. He definitely loves them, but does he love them consistently, constantly, and in the same way as he does his friends?). While Danny is constantly choosing his friends (he chooses them day in, day out, after Sam convinces him to walk to his death, after Tucker makes a decision out of intense jealousy, after Dani hunts him, Danny is still choosing them), he isn't constantly choosing how he feels in their presence. That would be hard for anyone to do, let alone creatures whose entire being revolves around their emotional volatility. The idea of intentionally creating a Fraid is ruled out, based on the idea that, even for beings that run off emotional cognizance, feelings as vulnerable as those required for the process are difficult to create and maintain consciously.
Now how does Fraid creation actually work?
The way I've described it above, I'm going to claim that a Fraid is essentially the ghost version of a horcrux. Instead of the soul going into an object, the ghost is exposing other ghosts (or people, in Danny's case) to intense amounts of their ectoplasm (which could be argued to be their soul given form, I guess?) and the ectoplasm is then settling inside the other party, being absorbed into their core, or skin, and cementing that individual as a part of the ghost creating the Fraid. Since this kind of ectoplasm is primarily that of the ghost, it will invariably have ties to the emotions that ghost is experiencing, hence the idea mentioned above that there needs to be a prolonged feeling of relaxation and safety about the creatures in the pre-formed Fraid. This being the case, I like to think about how Fraids might function when they're made of other ghosts too, and whether or not those secondary ghosts can basically form a layer of Fraids (like one web of ectoplasm built on another web and on another etc with different ghosts being the center point....does that make sense?). Would a Fraid with mostly ghosts develop it's own impression of a core? Is there a threshold of ectoplasm needed to develop a power level in this case? That's some juicy theory building right there.
When Danny's Fraid comes onto the scene, it gets a bit wonky.
Most of the time, his Fraid is made up of two (or three if you're counting Dan) ghosts and three (sometimes liminal sometimes not) humans, and there's almost of bit of a power imbalance. I would say that both Danny and Dani end up establishing this group of people as their individual Fraids, but how do the three humans influence the ectoplasm connection? And how does the fact that Danny and Dani virtually share an ectoplasm signature influence it? (this isn't to say that they share a core or are the same people, I am a firm lover of ice core danny and water core dani, but Dani is a clone and a product of Danny's ectoplasm....do you think they have the same signature, or would Dani develop her own signature?)
Connecting this to my first question above (is a Fraid a product of a ghost's feelings of "ownership" or "possession"): if you like your humans liminal like I do, I'm going to take a chance and say that Sam, Tucker, and Jazz have developed juuuust enough of a ghost core or an ecto signature for the Fraid threads to stick to them, and that ghosts probably wouldn't be able to draw regular, non-liminal humans into their Fraid unbeknownst to them. Due to this, I believe the humans would be able to reflect the ectoplasm back to Danny, creating a stable loop that allows for the continuance of the Fraid connection. I don't necessarily think this alone would allow for a strong connection - they're human, however liminal they might be, and liminal humans don't have the same ectoplasm reserves as a ghost, nor do they have the amount of "soul-like" ectoplasm needed to cement themselves inside the other parties like Danny could ( remember the horcrux analogy?). But! But but but! If Danny and Dani share an ectoplasm signature, and a Fraid is essentially an emotional feedback loop given substance, then you have two times the ectoplasm signature being run through and reflected back to each of the Fraid members, essentially....eliminating the original weakness of their connection?? And therefore you end up with a fully formed and healthy Fraid system?? I think that's pretty neat, right?
Idk dude, is this too long? Is there a limit to how much I can talk about this? I don't think there is.
for the sake of digestibility I'm going to DEFINITELY be writing a part 2 for this!!
But think about these questions in the meantime, if you want:
Would a ghost that isn't the Fraid's formation point be able to reject or leave the Fraid system? How?
What would happen to the Fraid "head" so to speak, if their Fraid threads were severed or rejected, based on the theory that it's essentially a part of themselves implanted in another creature?
Are potential Fraid members aware of what's happening when a Fraid is in its preliminary stages?
Could Fraids be rare?
Am I projecting my feelings of isolation onto a cool kid's show?? Who knows! I feel a fanfic idea coming tho....
Part 2 coming soon!
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dat1angel · 1 year
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May I Have Your Name?
DP x DC au where ghosts are basically the fae. Danny being half ghost gives him access to the fun bits like the fae magic, trickster abilities, and being able to eat/drink fae food with little to no side effects while he is less affected by the not so fun bits like being incapable of lying(he can but he feels really weird when he does) and being burned by iron(it'll give him a rash if in prolonged contact). Due to fae having extremely long life spans, he has outlived all his loved ones and moved into the infinite realms permanently after their deaths. This has caused him to lean a lot more into the fae traits as the years pass. He occasionally takes trips into different dimensions to cause mischief.
One such trip brings him to Gotham. He's in a park and due to his fae-ness the local fauna are extremely trusting and drawn to him so he has a small collection of birds, squirrels, and maybe even a stray cat or two following him around. This catches the attention of Damian who just so happened to be at that park. Damian walks over to this strange boy who has such an affinity with animals, and starts a conversation with him.
"How do you get them to follow you?" Damian asks as he slowly approaches, voice low to avoid scaring off any of the creatures. Danny glances over at Damian, a smile flitting across his lips, before turning to the gathered animals.
"Patience," he replies, lowering a hand for a young squirrel to climb on, lifting his hand, and cradling it near his chest, "and kindness". He turns back towards Damian and reaches for his hands, which Damian let's him take, and gently deposits the squirrel in his gentle hold. The squirrel looks up at Damian curiously, looks back to Danny who gives an encouraging nod, and then climbs up Damians arm and settling upon his shoulder. "It takes a truly gentle soul to gain an animals trust," Danny says, "Something that I have a feeling you possess. You are intriguing."
If it were anyone else, they may have clocked the way Danny spoke as strange, but Damian was too in awe of both Danny and the squirrel who was currently snuggling against his neck to notice. Even if he wasn't, however, he wouldn't have noticed as he himself was often told he spoke strangely, though he never thought so.
"This is incredible," Damian said, ever so gently bringing a hand up to stroke the squirrels fur. Danny smiled as he watched Damian interact with the squirrel, so kind and gentle, his curiosity and interest in the human growing by the second.
"May I have your name?"
Damian, who takes great pride in his name and would never consider hiding his identity, proudly proclaims, "Damian al Ghul-Wayne".
Danny's eyes sparkle with mischief and his smile grows into something a little too wide and suddenly all his features look just this side of odd. His ears a little too pointed and his teeth and nails a little too sharp and his eyes a little too bright, did they always look like that?
"Well Damian," and when he says his name something shifts in him, like he has no choice but to listen, and... what was his name again? This boy just said it, why in the world can't he remember what it is? "I think you'll be coming with me."
Damian can't stop himself from allowing Danny to take his hand and lead him further into the trees. What was supposed to be a small patch of trees in a park seem to thicken before his eyes, fog rolls in and licks at his heels and they emerge into a clearing that definitely wasn't there before. When he looks around, he can't see any of the park through the tree line. The air in front of them seems to ripple and waver until it divides itself and creates a gateway of sorts to a place Damian doesn't recognize as anywhere in Gotham.
"Come along Damian," Danny says and once again, he has no choice but to comply, allowing this stranger to take him away.
~~~~~~~~
So basically Danny is a fae and meets Damian and decides, hey I like this one, I'm gonna keep it and steals his name and takes him home. I picture it as Dead Serious but it doesn't have to be taken that way.
Other things I envision for this au include:
Danny showing Damian off to his friends in the realms(Kitty, Johnny, Ember, Skulker)
they congratulate him on his "first catch" and coo over Damian as if he was a new puppy and not a whole human person
Damian being very distraught over his inability to remember his name
Danny tells him that it doesn't matter and his name(and by extension Damian himself) belongs to him now
But if he really wants something to call himself he may go by Dove
Damian always keeps a communicator on him which he uses to contact his family and tell them what happened
They try to track his location but as he is in another realm they cannot
They reach out to Constantine because they need a magic user's help
Constantine hears that Damian got taken by the fae and nearly shits himself
He gives the batfam a run down on fae etiquette and then takes them on a field trip to the fae realm to try to convince Danny to give Damian back
Danny does not want to give Damian back
Anytime Danny gives Damian an order in which he says his name Damian has no choice but to comply
Danny doesn't intentionally abuse this but after centuries without normal human interaction he's lost touch with what is and isn't considered cruel
As if stealing someones' name and kidnapping them is in any way not cruel
So sometimes he ends up being a little mean
Forcing Damian to shut up if he starts being rude
Forcing him to sit or stand or go here or don't move
Once, in an attempt at defiance, Damian refuses to eat and Danny gets this cold expression and his features once again take on that just-this-side-of-odd look and he says "Damian, eat"
Danny goes out of his way to get food from Damians universe because he doesn't want him to have any side effects from eating the fae food
He wants to keep him and doesn't want to risk anything potentially harming him
Time across dimensions is kinda fucky
Idk if I'll continue this cuz I don't really know the DC universe well enough to write it. Everything I know I learned through fanfics. If anyone wants to try their hand at writing it you have my full permission just please tag me because I'd love to see what you do with it. It's up to author interpretation if Danny ever gives Damian back or not. Maybe he makes the batfam do some tasks to prove themselves to convince him to give him back or not. Maybe if you take the Dead Serious route then as they come to truly care for each other Damian is able to convince Danny that he wouldn't be happy living the rest of his life in the fae realm, unable to leave or see his family, and that is what eventually gets Danny to release him. But at that point they really care for each other(maybe already dating) so they keep in touch and Danny visits often and starts getting accustomed to socially interacting with humans again. He is very embarrassed about some of the things he did while Damian was under his possession after relearning human social norms.
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la-bruja · 8 months
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Fanfiction Reccomendations
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hi im a little insane and i read way too many fics 💖
here are some fics I've enjoyed this week! so far it's mostly batman, danny phantom, and crossovers between those two! haha I need some variety I swear.
everything under the read more because I have fifteen (15) listed! <3 okay thanks for checking out my recs!!
(if the formatting is a little ugly, it's because i did this on the app on my phone <3)
(tumblr (app) is a peice of shit and deleted some of the fics i had on here. aaaaaaaaa) (i will try again next week)
»»———-DPxDC-———-««
Wait, I'm a What? by @atiyasnake
based on a tumblr post
Incomplete. Multi-Chaptered. 31k+ Words. Last Updated June. 5k+ Kudos. Misunderstandings. Ghost King Danny. Accidental Crime Lord Danny. Cryptid Danny. Sentient Gotham.
He kept taking the cash from the assholes (and damn there were a lot of assholes near where he lived) messing with the residents who lived in the area. He kept accepting their offers of food. So because of this new routine that kept him able to afford to rent out his shitty (and possibly illegal) apartment and the hunger pangs sufficiently satisfied, rumors grew.
Like and Survive - Phantom’s Guide to Young Hero Survival by @robinasnyder
based on a tumblr post
Incomplete. Multi-Chaptered. 73k+ Words. Last Updated July. 3k+ Kudos. Youtuber Danny. Ghost King Danny. Adult Danny. Good Parent Clark Kent. Therapist Jasmine Fenton.
Phantom is considered an old timer who deals with a small city and nowhere else. When he begins uploading videos with advice for young heroes, he hopes a few new heroes might avoid some of the pain he went through. He's shocked at just how popular his advice suddenly becomes.
Bus To Nowhere by @precarious-hermit
Incomplete. Multi-Chaptered. 98k+ Words. Last Updated July. 20k+ Kudos. Ghost King Danny. Bad Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton.
After being on the run from his parents and the government for a couple of months, moving from town to town, Danny ends up in Gotham City and decides to risk staying in Batman's territory. He'd take the wrath of Batman over live vivisection via beloved parents or being studied and torn apart by the government. Besides, he's not a meta. Being dead is a medical condition.
The Firstborn Son by @faeriekit
Complete. Two-Shot. 7.5k Words. 1k+ Kudos. Ghost King Danny. The Infinite Realms. Dimension Travel. Accidental Child Acquisition. Child Endangerment. Mind Control. Horror.
Danny Phantom, a somewhat established ruler of the Ghost Zone, has unwittingly acquired a baby.
And. Well. He can't exactly keep it in Pariah's Keep. He's no parent, not to mention the huge problem of how the air and sky destabilize human cellular structure. There has to be a way to prove that the man is safer than the home the baby comes from.
...But the man has his own ward.
Hm. Danny can exploit this. What's an assessment without a little test?
Amity In The Ghost Zone by @ghostboybrainrot
Incomplete. Multi-Chaptered. 7k+ Words. Last Updated March. 1k+ Kudos. Good Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton.
The city doesn't return on its own after Pariah Dark is defeated. Without knowing how to get the whole city back to the living world, Danny tries to evacuate the residents but most Amity Parkers don't really want to leave. Some people do, but many decide to stay. After all, Amity Park is their home, and the idea of having to start over somewhere new isn't very appealing. So the town, for the most part, continues on like normal.
Holding Me Now In Hand by @disillusioneddanny
Completed. Multi-Chaptered. 67k+ Words. 4k+ Kudos. Death Defying. Dick/Danny. Ghost King Danny. Teacher Danny. Bad Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton. Miscommunication. Identity Reveal.
After Tim Drake tells his family about his new insane chemistry teacher, Dick Grayson decides to do some investigation himself.
What he wasn't expecting was to instantly fall in love with the chaotic science teacher.
Our Empty Graves by @nabtime
Incomplete. Multi-Chaptered. 63k+ Words. Last Updated July. 3k+ Kudos. Graphic Depictions of Violence. Dead On Main. Jason/Danny. Slowburn. Bad Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton. Hazmat AU. Mute Danny. Hurt/Comfort.
They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. Rival gangs say he's vicious, that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.
death echoes by @redskyeatnight
Incomplete. Multi-Chaptered. 38k+ Words. Last Updated June. 9k+ Kudos. Account Locked. Ghost King Danny. BAMF Danny. Creepy Danny.
Cold air on the back of his neck. Skeletal fingertips skittering up his spine, barely there and yet pressing so hard they would surely leave indents. A sound like an iceberg cracking apart echoing in his ears and through his head, pain following in its wake.
His throat went cold, his tongue suddenly numb.
And for a second - just a second - he smelled nothing but the stench of death.
"Oh My God, I'm Becoming My Father." by @fanfiction-artist-prototype
Incomplete. Three-Shot. 22k+ Words. Last Updated June. 1k+ Kudos. Account Locked. Misunderstandings. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. Blood and Injury. Accidental Child Acquisition. Implied/Reference Underage Prostitution. Protective Jason Todd.
Dani needs money, there's only so long her human body can last without food, and she lost the credit card Sam gave her when she crash-landed in Gotham city bay. So, she decides she's going to go the one guy she knows exists in Gotham that will help a kid down on their luck no questions asked - Red Hood.
Last time she'd seen Danny, he'd told her that there were rumours the Red Hood was undead, so he was the safest option for a halfa like her.
Hatred At First Sight by Sagoberattare
based on a tumblr post
Complete. One-Shot. 1k Words. 4k+ Kudos. SoulHate AU. Danny Phantom is a Little Shit.
Until the Joker looked at the skrunky kid in a ratty hoodie that looked like he could be a Wayne adoptee. And they both froze for a good minute.
And like some kind of demented switch got flipped the kid snarled and (still with his hands tied behind his back mind you) launched himself at the Joker.
Back to the World, In the End by @akela-nakamura
Incomplete. Multi-Chaptered. 9k+ Words. Last Updated June. 800 Kudos. Halfa Jason Todd. Heavy Angst. Supernatural illnesses. Jason Todd is Not Okay. Eventual Comfort.
Jason's been sick for weeks and nothing he does seems to help. He's not ready for his confrontation with the Bat. He's not ready for his plans to fall apart when they've barely begun.
But his illness isn't stopping. One warm Gotham night, he hits a metaphorical wall.
Nightwing finds Red Hood on a rooftop. It's been a long night, but it might be looking up. After all, finally capturing the Red Hood will make Gotham that much safer.
Inquisitive by @oliveofvanders
Completed. One-Shot. 1k+ Words. 2k+ Kudos. Journalist Danny. Danny is a Little Shit. Damien Wayne Loves Animals. Crack Treated Seriously.
Damian has a very specific way of dealing with reporters – show them the animals, that usually scares them off.
Danny, however, has seen weirder shit in his lifetime.
Like Betta Fish Do by @clockwayswrites
Incomplete. Multi-Chaptered. 48k+ Words. Last Updated July. Updates Bi-Weekly. 7k+ Kudos. Dead On Main. Jason/Danny. Ghost King Danny. Halfa Jason. Canon-Typical Violence. Jason Todd Needs a Hug. Danny Fenton Needs a Hug. Lazarus Side Effects. Identity Reveal.
Danny had ended up trespassing in Jason's haunt. He didn't mean to. Total accident, he swears. (He blames Johnny.) So he bought the other halfa a basket of bathbombs and chocolate as a 'sorry, please don't disembowel me' gift. It was the proper thing to do, alright?
Everything was going to be just fine.
Then things got a little out of hand.
»»———-Batman-———-««
Send To All by @cairoscene
Completed. One-Shot. 3k Words. 5k+ Kudos. Emails. Epistolary. Poison Ivy Adjacent.
I, _____________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).
»»———-Danny Phantom-———-««
and they were roommates by @captainbrookeworm
Completed. One-Shot. 9k+ Words. 400 Kudos. ChatFic. Humor. Memes. Crack. Crack Treated Seriously. Post-Canon. Identity Reveal.
Mr. Lancer’s English Class Group Chat
Wes Weston: FINALLY
Wes Weston: INDISPUTABLE PROOF
Tucker Foley: For the last time the moon landing was NOT faked!!!!
》 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。 。° 。。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。 。°《
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torscrawls · 3 months
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Pressurized
Happy Holiday Truce @ectospacecadet! This is my gift for you, based on the prompt “Sometimes all it takes is one bad day to break someone: Danny snaps.” Hope it tastes good!
You can also read it on AO3.
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“Fenton! Get up that rope!”
Danny clutched his aching left arm tight to his side, cursing Skulker and his attack early this morning as he moved to do as Ms. Tetslaff had ordered. The wound throbbed and radiated pain up his whole arm as he grabbed the rope and started to haul himself up.
“Ha! Fenturd is too much of a wimp to get up that rope!” Dash laughed and was soon joined by the rest of the A-listers.
Danny grit his teeth and reminded himself that what Dash and the rest thought about him really didn’t matter in the big picture. He had more important things to worry about. Like how to keep his wound from opening back up while making it to the top of the rope. Maybe he could use a touch of flight to—
Suddenly the whole rope heaved beneath him, writhing like a snake come alive, and Danny lost his grip. Thankfully the fall wasn’t long, but it still hurt when he landed—of course—on his wounded left arm.
Danny groaned from where he lay on the mat and as soon as he opened his eyes he got a face full of a grinning Dash, leaning over him and looking proud of himself. He still held the rope Danny had been climbing in one hand. Of course he had been the one to mess with him. Danny couldn’t even find it in himself to be surprised.
Danny turned his head to his side and saw Tetslaff on the other side of the room, not looking. Of course.
Dash laughed. “Wow, I didn’t know Fentoe was so weak he couldn’t even hold on to a rope!”
Danny reminded himself that Dash didn’t matter and that he didn’t care about what they thought, that he didn’t care about any of this. He didn’t.
Danny got to his feet, keeping his left arm close to his side. He felt a slow trickling of warmth run down the inside of his arm and really hoped his wound hadn’t opened back up. It would be just his luck.
Tucker jogged up next to him and sent him a concerned look. “Hey, you okay man?”
Danny took a deep breath, relaxed his clenched hands and let it out slowly before looking at Tucker and giving him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yeah. I’m good.”
Considering Tucker’s grimace, he guessed he didn’t manage it, but his friend thankfully didn’t push the issue. And he was fine, this didn’t matter. It was just a slight annoyance. He would fix the wound after gym was over and then it would all be fine.
They were interrupted by Tetslaff suddenly deigning to look over towards them now that Dash had started climbing his own rope to the cheers of his friends. She frowned and immediately screamed, “Fenton! Foley! If you have time to just stand around talking, then you have time to run twenty laps! Get going!”
So Danny pushed down his pain and started running, Tucker by his side.
—-
After gym was over he waited until everyone else had finished changing out of their gym clothes before doing it himself, ignoring Dash and his lackeys continuous jabs and insults.
He didn’t feel like explaining his wound—which he was now certain he had reopened as the warm wetness on the inside of his arm hadn’t stopped and only gotten worse as time went on—and his extensive bruising. It would just raise a lot of questions. And probably even more insults, and even if Dash and the rest didn’t matter, Danny was too tired to deal with it right now.
He had to convince Tucker to go on ahead without him, “There’s no reason why we both have to be late. Besides, I don’t want them to start bullying you too.”
Apparently that hadn’t been as convincing as Danny had thought, but in the end he had managed to convince Tucker anyway and that was all that mattered.
As soon as the door closed and Danny was alone he let out a long sigh as his shoulders slumped. He rolled up the sleeve of his left arm with a grimace and then let out another sigh at the sight. Oh, he would definitely be late for the next class. He dug out his beat up first aid kit from the bottom of his bag and got to work.
Ten minutes later Danny carefully eased the door to the classroom open and quickly slunk inside. His hopes of sneaking inside unnoticed were dashed as Mr. Lancer fixed him with a glare and didn’t waste any time before chewing him out in front of the whole class. He could see Dash grinning and elbowing Kwan, Paulina leaning in to whisper to Star as they both pointed at him, Mikey and Nathan looking annoyed at the interruption and aiming their glares at Danny. Danny felt his shoulders climb up towards his ears. Great.
The whole spiel ended with Lancer declaring that he had detention after school and Danny barely found it in himself to give the teacher an affirmative before making his way to his school desk.
Well, no matter. Danny had only planned to get his homework done as soon as he got home, do his chores, and maybe actually go to bed early tonight. Maybe sleep off some of the exhaustion and pain dragging him down. Guess that wouldn’t happen. He didn’t know why he even tried anymore.
He sank down in his chair and Tucker immediately leaned in towards him and hissed out, “Man, your eyes are glowing.”
Danny closed his eyes in defeat. He tried to calm himself down, taking slow breaths and consciously relaxing his shoulders. The last thing he needed right now was any more attention.
After a few tense seconds he turned back to Tucker, one eyebrow raised in question.
Tucker gave him a slightly uncertain thumbs-up.
Danny felt himself relax slightly. Crisis averted, for now.
He just had to get through today.
Just like always.
—-
When he, Sam, and Tucker stepped into the cafeteria it was already full of students and Danny’s head throbbed at the noise. He really wished he had been able to grab more than a few minutes of sleep in between ghost fights, trying to avoid his parents, and all the traps they had set in the house.
Sam and Tucker walked towards the line for food and Danny stumbled after them. Tucker put a careful hand on Danny’s arm and Danny did his best not to jerk away from the pressure it put on his wound. Tucker still dropped his hand, a worried expression on his face, “Hey, man, you sure you’re alright?”
Danny nodded groggily, trying to muster up a smile. “I just didn’t get any sleep last night.”
Which wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth. He hadn’t gotten any sleep, but he had also been in two fights and one hunt spearheaded by his parents. Then his home had decided he was a threat and attacked him as well. And, oh right; he got woken up by an alarm in the middle of the night because the portal almost blew up because of some new tests his parents were doing. He didn’t even have time to eat breakfast. He looked down at the slop the lunch lady splattered across his plate and it was a testament to just how hungry he was that it actually looked appetizing.
He was doing great.
Thankfully, Sam and Tucker didn’t push it as they walked towards a free table. Danny did his best to follow along in their conversation, but he was too tired to make sense of their discussion about the math homework they had just gotten. Was it futile to hope that he would have enough energy and time to do it later tonight? Probably. Danny wished he had the capacity to feel bad about it.
He looked down at the food in his hands and allowed his thoughts to drift as he followed Sam and Tucker and their familiar voices. At least he would be able to sit down for a while with his friends and just breathe. And eat. Ancients, he was starving.
So of course that was when a foot suddenly appeared in front of his feet and despite his usually quick reflexes his tired brain reacted too late and he tripped, losing his hold on his tray and watching as it spilled absolutely everywhere. He had to use both his hands to catch himself against the floor to avoid smacking his head into it and groaned at the pain radiating up his left arm. Maybe the face would have been preferable to this.
He didn’t have time to get back up before Dash’s laughter rang in his ears.
Of course it was him.
“What’s this?! You can’t even walk correctly, Fentrip?!”
Danny pushed himself up on shaking arms and kept his eyes locked on the floor, ignoring the giggling he could hear from all around him. It was fine. Dash didn’t matter. This didn’t matter.
He blinked when a hand with back nails came into view before carefully grabbing his shoulders and helping him back up. Danny looked up to find Sam frowning at him. “Why do you let him push you around like this?”
Danny blinked at her. Yeah, why did he? His arm ached and he was so tired. If he just fought back once then Dash would know that he couldn’t just do whatever he wanted to him, they would all see just how—
Danny shrugged as he pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t afford to think like that. He couldn't risk turning into him. Danny feigned nonchalance as he said, “He doesn’t matter.”
Sam frowned at him.
Danny shrugged her hand off.
“Ha! You need your little freak girlfriend to protect you, Whimpton?!”
Danny felt himself tense up. They could pick on him all they wanted, but he hated it when they picked on his friends. They didn’t deserve that. He felt the tension rush back, ensnare itself through his shoulders and his arms until he couldn’t help but ball up his fists.
Sam raised a hand again as if to touch him, but let it drop again without making contact. “…Danny?”
“Dude,” Tucker joined in, voice strained and eyes glancing around them, “calm down.”
“I am calm!” Danny gritted out.
Sam raised an unimpressed eyebrow and Danny forced his hands to relax. He bent down to pick up his spilled food.
“Come on,” said Sam, “let’s go eat.”
They walked away from the laughing table full of A-listers.
Danny looked down at his ruined lunch and couldn’t help but let out a petulant, “I’m not hungry.” If he said it, then maybe it would make it true. Where was Desiree when you needed her?
Both Tucker and Sam sent him pointed looks and Tucker said, “I know that’s a lie. I could hear your stomach rumbling the whole class.”
Danny felt embarrassed that he had been found out; he didn’t like to make his friends worry about him.
Tucker just smiled. “Come on, you can have some of mine. I have a couple of snacks in my bag. Besides, I ate a really big breakfast so I’m not that hungry.”
Sam didn’t say anything, just silently handed Danny an apple from her tray.
How had Danny been blessed with such nice friends?
Danny sank down on the bench to finally eat with his friends, but the moment his arms touched the table he felt a familiar feeling of cold claw itself up his throat. The taste of ozone and ectoplasm burst forth from his mouth and he looked at the small cloud in dismay. Danny groaned. “I have to go. There’s a ghost. Again.”
Sam and Tucker exchanged a look and Danny tensed up. He didn’t have the energy to argue with them right now.
Tucker began hesitantly, “Maybe you should leave it to someone else?”
“I can’t. You know that.”
Sam crossed her arms. “Then we’ll come with you.”
Danny looked at his two friends and their full trays of food, which they hadn’t had time to touch. He didn’t want to drag them down with him, he owed them that. So Danny made an effort to sound snappish as he said, “I don’t need a babysitter.”
Tucker held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Hey man, we didn’t say that. We’re just worried about you.”
And now he had made his friends worry about him. Great. He couldn’t do anything right, could he?
He got to his feet. “I have to go.”
“Danny, wait!” Sam called out, but before they could start arguing with him again, he left.
——
Thankfully the fight didn’t take long, and Danny closed the thermos on the tiger-ghost just as the bell rang. It did leave him with scratch marks down his back though, and Danny cringed as he changed back into human form; praying that his quick healing would make sure it didn’t bleed through his clothes and thankful for the thick hoodie he had put on that day. He ran to his locker and got out his things, but was still late for the next class.
Lancer merely shook his head at him and Danny stumbled over to his desk and sank down in it while ignoring the worried looks from Sam and Tucker.
He was fine. It was all fine.
And even if it weren’t; it didn’t matter. He just needed to keep it together and do his job, keep everyone safe.
—-
The bell finally rang and Danny let out a stuttering breath. He was free.
He didn’t waste any time before stuffing all of his things into his bag and getting up, ignoring the pain in his arm and his back as he shouldered his backpack. It was worth it if he could get out of there quicker. Sam and Tucker joined him as he made for the door.
Tucker lowered his voice as he looked Danny over and carefully asked, “Danny? You okay?”
Danny kept his eyes on the door, feeling his steps lighten as he passed through it. “I’m fine.”
Sam pursed her lips and asked, “…Who was it?”
“A tiger ghost.”
He knew that they wanted more information than that, but he just wanted to go home and crash. He was so very tired and he hurt.
Tucker huffed. “Maybe you should leave the hunting to your parents for tod—”
“Mr. Fenton! Get back here, now!” Lancer’s call interrupted Tucker and made dread pool in Danny’s stomach. Right. Detention.
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. He’s fine.
Danny sucked in a shaking breath and stopped walking. He didn’t look at his friends as he said, “Well, see you guys tomorrow.”
Tucker let out a long sigh and sounded defeated as he said, “Please be care—”
Danny nodded and took a step towards the classroom and then he felt something collide with his back. Hard.
Immediately he was back fighting the tiger, its swiping claws on his back right in the same spot. The pain was immediate and intense, and Danny saw stars as he stumbled forward, falling to his knees.
His mind reeled. Was he still fighting? He wasn’t even transformed! He had to defend everyone!
He reached for the cold feeling in his chest, ready to tug on it and go ghost to—
Cheers erupted around him.
“Touchdown!” Dash crowed from above and Danny froze in place.
Right. He was in school. There was no ghost to fight. It was the A-listers. They didn’t matter.
For the third time that day he picked himself up off the floor.
His arm and back burned. The pain pulsed in time with his thrumming core.
Ghosts fought during stressful situations and right now his instincts were screaming at him to fight. To get them before they got him. Danny balled his hands into shaking fists.
He tried to force his heart and his core to slow down. It didn't work.
A part of him slipped, too tired to fight it anymore. They wanted a fight, right? Then he would give them one.
But then he registered movement beside him and he blinked. Right. Sam and Tucker were here, which meant that he couldn't fight right now. Not with them so close. He couldn't risk it. Risk them.
Danny pressed everything down down down.
Or, he tried to.
His breath clouded in front of his face, but it wasn't because of a ghost, but because of the sudden cold blanketing the hallway.
“…Danny?” Tucker said hesitantly from beside him. “Dude, calm down.”
“I am fucking calm!” Danny growled.
Sam looked at him with clear worry in her eyes. She leaned in and whispered, “Your eyes are glowing again.”
Danny covered his eyes with his hands. He tried to force them to return to normal, to force himself to calm down. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, he repeated in his mind.
Danny heaved in deep breaths.
“Ha!” Laughed Dash, “Are you going to cry?!”
Danny sucked in breath after breath. It didn’t matter.
He tried to force the tension down. Tried to stuff it all down. Down where it couldn’t hurt anyone.
It doesn’t matter.
He gritted his teeth.
It shouldn’t matter.
He was fine. They didn’t matter. He was fine.
…He didn’t feel fine. He ached and was so very tired. He hurt.
His arms fell down to his lap and before he could do more than open his eyes, Tucker was standing in front of him, shielding him from view and hissing out, “Your eyes, man!”
And Danny tried. He really did, tried to make them go back to normal, to look normal. So he wouldn’t upset anyone. So no one would notice. So he wouldn’t matter. Danny grabbed his hair in his shaking hands, winced at the pain radiating up his arm.
“What’s wrong with the freak?” Dash asked and before Danny could react there was a hand reaching for him. His mind screamed at him to get away, to make it all just stop.
“Man, don’t!” Tucker shouted out in warning and then Danny watched with wide eyes as his friend was showed aside by Kwan, making him stumble to the side.
Sam stepped in front of Danny and then got pushed into the wall by Dash as they all laughed.
Danny’s eyes jumped from the wince on Tucker’s face to the angry scowl on Sam’s. To the way she pushed away from the wall and grabbed her left shoulder that had collided with it, on how Tucker wasn’t able to hide the fear in his eyes as he looked at the people who had attacked him.
They had attacked his friends. Because of him. Danny had put them in danger.
After everything that had happened, after all the pain and exhaustion, he couldn’t even keep them safe. His core screamed.
Danny felt himself fracture, crack like a thin layer of ice beneath a boot.
Dash’s hand moved as if in slow-motion as it approached him and Danny viciously slapped it away. “Don’t touch me. And don’t. Touch. Them.”
Dash cradled his hand in stunned silence for a split second before he broke out into laughter again, elbowing Kwan in the side as he said, “Wow, would you look at that? The wimp is fighting back!”
Laughter.
Danny’s ears roared and his chest stuttered as he tried to get enough air into his lungs; to calm down. His eyesight narrowed into a thin point as he raised his shaking hands to grip the front of his shirt. There was a pressure on his chest. On his core. Building and building and building.
“Stop,” he managed to croak out. He didn’t know if it was a warning or a plea. His instincts were screaming, clamoring, demanding, that he fight.
“What are you going to do about it?! Cry on us?”
A rough hand crabbed Danny’s shoulder and his own hand snapped up to grab it as he hissed out, “You don’t matter! You’re fucking nothing!” None of them did. So what did it matter what he did to them?
“Danny!” Sam yelled out in warning. But she was still gripping her arm where she had collided with the wall and that as all he could see.
Danny managed to let go of the hand in his grip, but he couldn’t calm down.
Maybe he didn’t want to.
“Hey…” Dash trailed off. “What’s wrong with his eyes?”
Tucker took a step closer to Danny. “Danny, you have to calm down!”
“Why?!” Why did he always have to calm down?!
He hurt.
“Danny!” He couldn’t even tell who was speaking anymore. It didn’t matter.
The air was cold enough to sting his throat and he breathed it in in in in.
He couldn't breathe out. He couldn't—
“What the fuck?!”
“Shit!”
“Get back!”
He smelled ectoplasm. The cold snow.
He smelled sour mouthwatering fear.
Danny recoiled with nausea climbing up his throat. He shouldn’t like that. He shouldn’t be that ghostly. He had to control himself. Just get himself back under control and calm down and—
And he couldn't. He couldn't.
His heaving breaths stopped when he realized that he didn’t need them.
In the end, he was just like any other ghost wasn't he?
The cold spread through him, out of him, and Danny didn’t even try to stop it.
They didn’t matter.
And he h̵̪̗͊u̴̯͒r̴͍͈̈̇t̸̮̺͈́.
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