#ghost physiology

[balshumetsbaragouin]

Lore Post: Whispering Panic

Since we're getting into the thick of things for Passion, and inspired by the general overview post on Wednesday, why don't we have some Lore about the curse sweeping through Amity Park? Join me below as we look through the research notes of a knowledgeable servant of Eulas as they study the Pathology and Epidemiology of this common Curse!

Symptoms:

The Whispering Panic is a mild to moderate curse that causes:

Paranoia

Delusions

Increased aggression

Increased anxiety

Fever

Body aches

Disease Progression:

Ghosts:

There is a week long incubation period for the first symptoms to appear after exposure and successful infection.

The first symptom is typically body aches and headache. This is swiftly followed by a fever within the next 24 hours. The first week of infection mimics several curses, making diagnosis of it difficult. Additionally, because outbreaks tend towards the younger members of a community, and they are not yet immune to any number of curses, diagnosis is made yet more difficult.

However, the characteristic “panic” behavioral changes of the curse quickly set it apart from the more serious Hearthstone’s Heat or Feral Fang . The first of these changes to appear is increased anxiety. In the young, this often manifests as uncharacteristic shyness, clinginess, or introversion. After that comes the aggression, which common manifests in decreased tolerance for sharing or group play among ghostlings, and argumentativeness or churlishness in adults. In normal healthy individuals, the more disruptive symptoms never appear, or only appear in very mild form. In the vulnerable, however, aggressive gives way to paranoia. This encourages the increasingly ill host to self-isolate to increase the chance of the curse burrowing deeper without being cured by another recently recovered clan member. The paranoia then intensifies into delusions, and depending on the complexity of the core, death or chronic illness follows.

One would think a curse spread by energy would encourage interaction, and some do(with symptoms of delirium and euphoria and lowered inhibition), but because this has a very brief asymptomatic incubation period and an even briefer asymptomatic spread period, the only way the curse can survive is by nestling deep into the core of a ghost to be spread once their condition truly deteriorates. Almost all healthy ghosts clear the curse, but children, ghosts afflicted by other curses, or the especially frail or elderly are more susceptible to infiltration of the curse to the core.

Liminal Objects:

Unlike their Living or Ghostly counterparts, liminal objects do not have a disease progression. Instead, the symptoms of the curse are stable once it manifests. There is a shortened incubation period as well, as little as 24 hours, making these objects excellent vectors to spread the curse throughout a community. Once the curse manifests, the object begins moving and then starts reflecting the strongest emotion of the closest spiritually active being. Unless a strong emotion is introduced to a liminal object, it will otherwise act in accordance to its animia. Because many liminal objects form from well loved and cared for objects, their animia combined with these traits make them appealing to keep around. It’s often difficult to convince a child to cleanse an infected stuffed toy, for example, even though its spirit will not be harmed. The charm of a moving object can also make spread among children a more simple task, as they show off their new moving object among their peers.

No known examples of a Liminal object infected with Whispering Panic becoming violent or aggressive absent strong negative emotional stimulus has been recorded.

Spiritually Active Humans:

The disease progression mimics that of ghosts in all but a few key areas. First, the incubation period is typically longer in all but the most spiritually powerful humans. This makes the average time for the first symptoms to manifest rise from 7 to 11 days.

Additionally, humans are more emotionally volatile than ghosts, whose psyches are stabilized by the nature of their Cores. This means mood swings are a common additional symptom in afflicted humans. This shows up around the same time as increased aggression.

Finally, humans are extremely unlikely to reach the final stage of infection, because while their immune system takes longer to clear the curse, there is no core to infect. On top of this, the method by which the curse is cleared in their bodies involves less targeted attacks and more an immune system carpet bombing campaign. Assuming it does not trigger a cytokine storm in particularly vulnerable individuals, the curing method is effective, if inefficient, and leaves no area of the body untouched. (a direct contrast to the Core being privileged from immune response in Ghosts.)

The entire process, from beginning to end in a healthy individual, takes three months instead of the usual six weeks. Like Ghosts, humans are only temporarily immune. However, unlike other spiritual beings, humans do not live long enough for their waning immunity to allow reinfection. Immunity is therefore considered a lifelong in human beings.

Outbreak Potential:

Because most outbreaks are self-limiting, and because immunity is gained relatively quickly, immunity is slowly lost over time. Most ghosts catch and recover from this infection multiple times in their lifetimes without incident. And a single fully recovered community member can quickly sweep away the curse leaving areas cleared from its influence. Natural reservoirs remain in the Wilds of the Zone among the blob and, especially, ecto-animal populations who spread it to more advanced/complex ghosts on a regular pandemic cycle similar to the Flu.

Prognosis:

Ghosts:

For ghosts that are more advanced than Animalia, the prognosis is great. The illness is self-limiting and will resolve in a few weeks with rest and palliative care. For those lower ghosts, or the more vulnerable of the more complex sub-variety, prognosis depends on prompt treatment with a difficult to obtain remedy. For members of the ghostly Animalia, without treatment they will regress into a hyper-aggressive state wherein they do not eat, shun the company of their fellow animal ghosts, and viciously attack any ghosts that come near. The lack of food combined with its propensity to attack any ghost it comes across, no matter its power, lead inevitably to its demise.(Though not without spreading the curse very effectively, as the changes to its core make it broadcast the infection far more effectively.)

For subjects with more advanced Cores, the curative process takes 2-3 weeks from onset of symptoms. This process is elongated in children, whose less developed Cores take longer to produce a counter-signal and make a physical recovery. Because of this, chances of the curse taking root deeper in the core is higher, and the monitoring by a guardian, or if medically fragile, a health care professional is advised.

If a medically vulnerable individual, of sufficient core complexity, does not get the infection treated in time, it takes root inside and becomes a chronic illness.(recall once again that it leads to death in less complex animalia) This illness is difficult to root out, and debilitating. It stunts the production of energy, wastes iridiolymph(the unified solution a ghost’s different ectoplasm is dissolved in), and causes long-term personality and behavioral changes that aren’t conducive to socializing.

Chronic Whispering Panic infection, or chronic Feral Fang infection, is the most common cause of non-deficiency based growth stunting in the Zone. It is especially common in areas with large numbers of wild animal ghosts, who regularly have outbreaks or occasionally harbor individuals in the last stages of the disease, or in areas with high levels of deprivation(as nutritionally unsound ghosts have a harder time fighting off the disease). Both of these perquisites were common in former Kingdom Ĉiamdaŭra, giving it the dubious honor of having the greatest per capita amount of stunted ghostlings.

Liminal Objects:

Lacking any immune system of their own, Whispering Panic is one of the many curses that must be purged by a spiritually active living being. This can be done by a ghost, of any type, that’s producing a countersignal, a recently cured human who is doing the same, or a spiritually active human who can perform a ritual cleansing.

These human rituals produce energy that mimics the natural counter-signal to a curse, and so are the most effective way to cleanse an object. Without this, they remain infectious until the animia either fades, or the object is destroyed.(which breaks the ability of the object’s animia to remain connected to the material realm.) This makes them excellent reservoirs for curses that can cause them to reappear at “random”, even after the initial outbreak has settled. Luckily, most liminal objects that become infected with this curse lack the sophistication to develop the nastier psychological effects of the curse. Instead, the objects are merely animated, as is common in curse infections. One unusual aspect of this infection, though, is the way it causes the objects to mirror the strongest emotions of the other spiritually active beings around it. And because liminal objects, generally because of their simplistic animia, lack emotions of their own, these come from the Humans, Ghosts, Aspects, ect around them. Because of the lack of severity, Whispering Panic, and other curses with similar symptom profiles, used to be prolific among the liminal object subset. Humans, at one point, mistook the symptoms of infection, the emotional reactions and movement, as signs of being liminal at all. And as spiritual activity has waned in the Living Realm, both the spread of curses, and liminal objects themselves have become more rare on Earth.

A simple cleansing of the object of the curse’s energy is enough to render it inert and stop spread. In more ancient times, objects were cleansed at least once a year, if only to make sure they didn’t act as vessels that could sicken the spiritually sensitive among the community. These ritual cleanses still take place in the Zone, and are done at temples throughout the Zone by all major and minor deities’ servants.

Spiritually Active Humans:

Prognosis is once again excellent as the combination of their spiritually energy with their human immune system is able to fend off the disease. In this case, the innate immune system is super charged with spiritual energy. This creates a cascade of inflammation, but those molecules suffice the body, carrying the energy’s counter signal with it. Full clearance of the disease takes longer, like most curses, because of the lack of specificity and efficiency, but the process is still completed within three months. It is a more serious curse among humans, and the fatigue and longer term body aches it induces make it more of a blight.

However, unlike human viruses, it does not result in autoimmune sequela or chronic disruption of metabolism after the curse is cleared, and so remains a marginal annoyance instead of a serious ill.

Like with vulnerable ghosts, if a human is unable to clear the infection, it tries to create a chronic infection. However, without a Core, Ɉ̵̨͈͖͇̘͛͋̉̔͝ʜ̶̡̘̫̹̞͛̾̋̈́̍ɘ̵̡̥̪̠̬̎̈́̓̆͝ɿ̶̖̪̱͉͚̈́̈͆́̑ɘ̷̨̼̙̟̬͊͒̈͑̄'̶̢̛̗͙̣̞́͐̈́̎ƨ̷̦̙̥͍̞̌̈́̉̈́͠ ̸̧̧̢̪͔̓͑̅̚͝ņ̷͇̲̬͛̅̔̀͜͝o̷̬͚̜͎͆͛̓̾͆͜Ɉ̴̧̹̫̬̥͌̾͂̉͌ʜ̷̰̥͔͈̦̾̇̌̋͝i̵͎̩̳̬̞͊̑̾̔̓ṇ̶͔̗̬̐̃͘̕͘ͅϱ̷̛̼̯̝͓̒͐̍͑͜ ̵̳̰̘̪̭̆̒̀̚͝ʇ̸̧̲̼̰̹͊̓̑̚̕o̸̧̳̜͈͓͛̋̇͊̔ɿ̶͉̞̤͚͕̍̓͋̈́͠ ̷̢̗͇̭̙͒̓͗͋͝Ɉ̷̨͍̞̫̪̾̔̉̈́͝ʜ̵͉̬̩̟̑̈̒̍͛͜ɘ̴̺͕͔̯̰̒̿̏̚͝ ̷̗͕̦͓͐́̀̕͘͜ɔ̴̙̩̞͔̋͗̓̓͘͜υ̴͎͚̝̠͍͛̓͛̔̕ɿ̴̣̖̳͙̝͐̒̇̈́͝ƨ̶̥̹̭̦͇͂̅͊͑̆ɘ̸̢̞̮͓̼̈́̋̌͠ ̵̯͚̲̗̼̈́̈́̎̃Ɉ̸͕͈̭̬̝̀̑̿̀̚o̸̫̰̯̳̗͒͒͒̚̚ ̶̡̧̗̗̗̔̐͊͂͝ḑ̷̜̯͈͑͐̐̂̾ͅὺ̶̛̥͓͔̖͇̋̔͘ɿ̷̨̧̹͖̦̈́̒̇́͗ɿ̶̛̜͚̼̻̬̊̈͗̇o̵̡̻̻̩̱͐͒͐͂͗w̵͇̯̙͖̣̏͛̿͘͠ ̶̦̯̱̫̞́̃̾͊͠ị̸̢̻̘̫́̔͌̉̉n̴͔̟͚̪̓̓̈́͘͜͝Ɉ̸̰͈͓̜̒̏̾̎̃ͅǫ̵̩͍̣͊́͆̒̉͜.̷̮̬̥͙̰̅̿̒̽̿ ̸̧̝̻͈̰͒̽̐́̐Î̴̢̻̙̩̳̇̑̌̊n̵̝̞̝̼͎͒̇̀͐̚ƨ̶̡̣̱̜͔͆͒͑͂̕Ɉ̷̡̲̪̰̹̎̒̓̉̇ɘ̵̥̰͇̙͛͑̓̈́͌ͅɒ̴̨̬͈̻̓̈́̐̑̚͜b̸̙̻̼̹͇̀̉̌̓̕,̴̞̟̬͓̂̉̒͝͠ͅ ̴̨͕̣̞̩̋͌̏͒͠ì̸̺͔̥̲͖̈́͒̐͠Ɉ̵̛̝̝̩̱̫̏̐̃̈ ̴̧̥̜̭̘̅͐̇͐̓ɿ̶̨̡̤̳̈͑̔̆͒ͅì̷͔̝̣͍͐̅̕̚͜q̸̧̺̜͙̔̓̐̈͠ͅƨ̶̨̤̙͍͍̉̉̿͑̂

ʜ̷̩͍͔͈̜͗̔͛́̈ὐ̷̛̳͚̖͙̈̾͘ͅḿ̸̨̳̥͍̘͊͂̾͑ɒ̶̧̛̖̞̼̮͛͐̀̋ṇ̴̡̤̱͍͑̓̉̉̿,̴͔̱̖̰͐̉̈́̊̏͜ ̵̰͚̗̰̑̆̕͘͜͠i̶̢̛͓͈̦̱̅́̍̚ň̵̯̗̮̹̺̿͗̈͑ɔ̸̪̣̮̭͓̀͋̇̀̄ɿ̶̧̹̭͖͇͛̒̉͐̆ɘ̴̖̪̪̲͈̋̓͐́̀ɒ̷̨̹̫͔͔͒̆̾̐͝ƨ̶̛̦̩̭̱̠͆̉͋̋ɘ̵͔͔̥̮̙̐͂͌̈̑ƨ̶͓̬͎̗̬̽̈͂͠͠ ̷̻̫̩̲͇̂̏̐͝͝Ɉ̸̦̖̤̲̖̓̔̂͋͝ʜ̶̝̹̣͎̌͂̊̇̈͜ɘ̵̛̫̩͖̙̽̄̾̆͜ị̸̡̛̼̘͕̿̈́̊͘ɿ̶̗̟̘̜̰̈́͂̉͑̉ ̶͔͕̳̭̼̿͗̓̊̓q̸̪̞̩̯̆̀̈́̈̏ͅɒ̸̼͈̣̝͑̊̊̎͐ͅɿ̵̰͍̰͙͇͆͊͛̔͑ɒ̸͚̙̞͕̫͆̍̍̐̅n̶̟̳͙̦̺̒́͒͂̑ò̶̰͕̣͇̫̈́̃̆͑ḯ̶̦̺̗̰̘̏̓̅̑ɒ̶͍̖͕͉̣̀̓͂͊̒,̸̡̘͖͍̫̑̀̊̄͝ ̵͙̹̱̖̙͆̌̎͂͘ɒ̸̹̩̱̥̆̄͑͐̈͜ǹ̴̹̩͎̦̗͐̿̈́́b̷͎͍͖͇̦̈́̓͒͆͝ ̸̡̞̫̱̱̄͐̅̏̋ʜ̷͙̰̯͓̥̈̊̊̔͝í̴̜̰̺̮̀̒̒̚͜į̴̯̘͖̼̺̐̃̿͑̈́ɒ̴͈̠̦̝̲͊̐̿̓͝ɔ̶̗̱̘̘̈́̌̍͐̃͜ʞ̷̡̖̻͉̭̔̽̎̾̂ƨ̷̧̡̛̯̭̉͊̃͜͝ ̸̨̭̩̺͙̎͋͂̐̊Ɉ̵̻͉͎̯̦̌͋͆̾̚ʜ̵̡̪͚̳̲̾̂̈̾͝ɘ̴̥̺̝̪̪̅͆̇̒́ì̶̡̳͈͉̩̎̾̈̓ɿ̶̼̻̼̖͚́͐̂̚͝ ̴̨̡͈̖͖̄̆̇͘̕ƨ̴̡̟̺͕̩͌̎͛̅͝q̸͔͎̹̩͑̎̚͠͝ͅỉ̴̡̪̟̗̌̓͛͛͜ɿ̷̨̼̥͚̱̇͗̓͝͝i̸̛͎̳͙̘̓̏̆̊͜Ɉ̷̧̪͈̦̥̉̿͑̓̔υ̶̨̝̜̣̎̂̄̄̄͜ɒ̵̹͓̮̥̤͌̈́̐̈͠l̶̬̥͈̣̀̏̉͘͜͝ ̶̩͕͔̞͓̄̓̒̕̚q̶̧̖͖̦̊̎̽̊́ͅó̶͖̲͉̭̻̌͆̌̒w̶̬̥̤͖͈͗́̈́̄̒ɘ̸̯̱̣̯̲͗͗͛̊͝ɿ̷̥̭͇̝͙͑͑́̐͝ƨ̶̨̛̥̳̝̞̊̈́̆̏ ̷͈̦̜̩͋̇̒̔͊ͅį̵̛͓̟̪͎̀̑̕͝ñ̸̡̫̝͔͍̈́̓̐͝ ̶̨̜̖̺̗̒̓̎̾̚ō̸̜̥̹̼̫̂̄̃̓ɿ̴̟̬̙̦̩̔͐̂̍͝b̶̟̟̠̦͑̐̐̅̈́͜ɘ̶̖͇̺̲͉̌̇̄̕͝ɿ̷̯̟̥̫̜̈́̈́́́̅ ̴̫͔̼͔̇̅̆̌͒͜Ɉ̷̨̪͍̗̽͛̈̎̋͜o̶̞̳̥̻̹͒͊̀͌͊ ̵̡̥͖̲̟̇̿̃̃̐ƨ̶��̞̦̜̝̂͆͐͛ͅq̶̧̛͇̞̣̗͆̈́̓͘ɿ̸̛̜̤̪̮̗̎́̂̂ɘ̵̡͚̪̙̒́̌̃͘ͅɒ̸͎̦͚̼̰̆̀̉̅͠b̴̡̧͉̙̲̉̑̀͂̌ ̴̨̘̤̠̙͐̿̈̀̉Ɉ̴̢̳͎̲̤̂͂̎̒͝ʜ̴̡̞̻̥̦̏̉̒̌͛ɘ̶͈̬̜̯̻̾̓̿̒͝ ̵̘̟͓̭̮̉̃̐̈́͝ɔ̵̢̲̼̲̗̇̀̑̍̊ὺ̵̜̭̥͚͌͛͛͘͜ɿ̵̫̦̮̬̉̊͒͗̍͜ƨ̴̥̤͇̲̑͌͌̍̓͜ɘ̶̗͖̟̗͍̍͋̍̒̚ ̶̧̪̤̹̲́̃́̽͘ɒ̷̙̟͖̤̓͌́̾̐͜ƨ̴̞̻͈̳̹͛͛̽̑̂ ̴̮̳̻̥̜̀̏̀̐͒ʇ̸͓̱͈̼̳̈́̊͐̏͂ɒ̶̳̭̠̪͔͂͗̌͛̉ƨ̸̧̨̨̦̜̇̐̀̓̊Ɉ̵̛͉͖͓̬̱͊̀̒̈́ ̷̮̥̲̙͎́̃̀̍͝ɒ̵̝̗̲̳̉͗́̈͝ͅƨ̴͕̦̭̝̜́̔̀̂͝ ̵̧̬͕̬̲̒͆͛͗͝q̵͈͕̣̥͋͊̋̿̿͜ŏ̵͈͚̻͇̽̑͐̀͜ƨ̴̻̲̯̗̙͆̓̊͛̆ƨ̸͚̗̲̤̂̉͊̆͜͝i̵̱̳͇͓̘͆͂̉͆͝d̴͖͚̜̮̖̍͋̄̈́͘l̴̢̪̣͈̦̀̈́͊̿̉ɘ̴̻̲̼͙͐̐̃̂͌͜.̶̼͖̻̤̇́͆̎̀͜ ̴̨̲̳̫̙̎͛̀̇͝T̵̯̭̤̹̮͌̓͑́͗ʜ̷̣̣̜̟̃͑͌̄̎͜ȋ̷̛̙̟͍̼̏̓̈́͜ƨ̴̨͙͇̹͖̾͊͊̽̕ ̸̨̢̮̫͈̐͋͗̕͠ɘ̷̧͔̹͉̲̈́͋̿̔͠v̴̻͇̞̀̆̂́̀ͅͅɘ̴̠̗̞͓̲̎͗́̿̚ǹ̷̛̬̩͕̰̟̄͗̄Ɉ̶͉͙͕̤̪̊́̊̕͝υ̵̞̼̣͖͌͋͒͐̚ͅɒ̵̧̡̲͕̯̈͋̊̕̕ļ̴͕͉̫̹́̃͊̓͗l̸̞̟̮̻̫͛̂̒̎͝γ̴̛̖̱͎̜̿͑̔̕ͅ ̵̧̛̘̮̉͊̾̚͜ͅw̶̬̫͇͙̔̍͌̐͜͝ï̸̮̩̝̹̼̆̐̈̕ľ̸̡̢͔͖̭͛͑̎͠l̷̟̰̖͍̹̀̇̿̄́ ̸̢̲͇͇̼̑̂͑̌̃l̵̨͇̪͖̹̎̒͛̌͐ɘ̵̻̙̦͉͙͆̆͂̄̉ɒ̷͇̭̟̻̪̋̉̂͘͝b̴̢̬̲͔̼́̓̍̅̕ ̷͕͔̘̮̜͐̀͂́̕Ɉ̵̟͕̻̹̦́͛̇́̎o̵̙̻̲̞̳͛͋͂̐̔ ̴̨̛̤̪͎͊̔͝͠ͅb̶̜̙͉̠̜̂̋́͗̈ɘ̵̭̘̟͈̰̐̄̕̚͝ɒ̴̛̼̼̮̮́̓̅͗͜Ɉ̵̼͉̞͚̖͋͋͌͑̂ʜ̵͙͍̤̮̣̎͑̏̊͠,̴̫͓͕͉̼́̍̂́̊ ̵̨̜̜̪̬́̔͋̑̐ɒ̶̧̢̪̪̞͋́̽͊̉ļ̴̨̛̺̩͉̒̈́̅͝Ɉ̸̺̣̥̞̦͂͒̓̉̚ʜ̷̢̬̱̦͚̂̇̈͑͠o̸̻͇̞̯̫͛̆͆̒̚υ̶̬̘̻̮̥̒͂̉̉͝ϱ̴̹̱̟̣̪̄͗̒̿̕ʜ̴̰̤͙͎͎̈́͊́̀́ ̸̟̰̮̪͇̾͋̈́̈͂Ɉ̴͙̹̫̗̬̇͑̃̄̚ʜ̴̧̗̤͇͍̑̍̀̔͘ɘ̷̪̦̮͈̈́̄̋͗͜͝ ̵̣̩̥̖̣̊͛̔̈͒ɔ̵̰̹͎̩̋̿͘̕͠ͅö̷͈̺̫͎̠́́̃̎̅m̵̡̧̼͕̟̓́̏̏͂d̸̡̛̲̩͍̀̓͑̈́͜ĭ̶͕͇͉̦̳͐͂̀͠n̶̤̣̺̠̥͑̀̇͛͝ɒ̴̢̠͇̬̟̏̌͛̀̀Ɉ̴͙̳̯̲̯̓̏̕̚͘ĩ̷̧͚͈̝̎̇̓͠ͅǫ̶̢̻͎̪̎͊̾͆̋ņ̵̲͖͆̑̃̔̈́͜ͅ ̸̣̘̗̦̓̿̈͋͠ͅo̵̘̩̺̣͇̿̈́̅̕͠ʇ̸̗̫̗̝̦̀͑̈́̈͝ ̵̬̩̬̩̥̂̒͑̕̕Ɉ̵͎̗̟̦̭͒̈́̓͋͘ʜ̸͍̳͚̦̋͂͐̇͘ͅɘ̴̘̝̝̹͒̅͑̓̿ͅ ̵̨̭͙̟̼͛̎̑̑͠l̵͎̠̱̗̥͒̈̓̂̽ɒ̷̤͖͉̘̼̋̆͑̇͛ɔ̴̖͕̝͖̠͗̎̓̅̓ʞ̷̛̮͇̗̥͖͗͆̈́͝ ̸̱͙͎̤̭͐̓̉̇͝ó̴͈͖͈̜͓̆̄̎͘ʇ̸̨̯̹̻͛̽͐̆̽ͅ ̸͚͖̻̻̳͊̎͒̀̚Ɉ̷̫̲̬͊̆̏̑́ͅͅɿ̸̤̞̞̹̱͂̄͑̽̕ɘ̸̼͙̥̙̋̎̉͗͒͜ɒ̸̩̹͓̹̮̉̑͂͐͝Ɉ̸̛̭͇̼̲̻̈́̃̀͊m̸̬̞̩͔̯̀̌̅̚͝ɘ̵̥͔̳̥͂̄̿̃̽ͅņ̷̭̖͎̯͛͌̽͆̆Ɉ̷̪̦̮̼̫̓̒͛̊̕ ̸͉͕̫͙̹͂̓̄̀͒w̸͖̖̰͔̙͛̐̾̇͠i̸͙̲̰͓̻̊̍́̉͗Ɉ̸̢̧̥͚̫͒́͐̆̕ʜ̵̨͕̩̣͇̄̅̂̐͠ ̵̡̨̲̯̬̋̍̔̽̕ɒ̴̰̟̝̳̋̈̿̐̂͜ ̶̗̥͚͎̟̈́̈̾̾̅l̷͈̤͙̲̖͗̉͘̕͠ɒ̸̲̜̺̥̾̅̏̆̿͜ɔ̸͉̘̝͉̽̓̂̀͐͜ʞ̴̭̲̻̙̜̐̆̏̚͠ ̵͚͔̙̜̒̽̍̀͒͜o̵̪̠̪͚̗͐̌̔̊̊ʇ̸̦̖̗͚̞̌̄̔̆̚ ̵̲͖͓̱̞̀̌̈́̕̕ɒ̶̭͕̘̭̗̄̌́͑͠d̷̨̝̘͇͛͗̇̈́̋͜į̴̝̭̣͚͒͑̿̓̚ļ̵̧̯̖̯̄͋̿͂͝í̷̧̺̟̮̩̏̆̓̿Ɉ̴̬̯͕̱̃̈̏̇̽͜γ̴̰͉̹̣̩͑́̃͊̒ ̵͈͙̬̠̹́͗̆̕͠Ɉ̵̢̫̘͇͓̎̓͂̑̈́o̴̡̨̭̠͉̅͒̈̅̑ ̷̭̱̳̺͇̽̽̽̈́͠ɔ̴̛͇̰̲͓̰̾̂̉̄l̴͖͍̘̳̋̽͐̇́ͅɘ̸̡͖̗̯̯̈̂̃͊͠ɒ̴̭̳̞͙̈́͑͌̄͜͝ɿ̷͓͎̻̝̮͗̿̂̀͝ ̴̡̫̥̙̦̾͗̇̀̂Ɉ̴̡̨̠̪̲̄̆̿͐̾ʜ̵̯͕̫̣̺̃̇̅̎͋ɘ̴̨̢̩̹̪̋̇́͑͘ ̶̭̳͔̥̫̀̈́́̏̓ɔ̵̙̣̟̮͓̌̌̾͌͛ὺ̶̫͎̞͉͇͋̈́̑̔ɿ̷̭̗̭̙̃̃́̽̚ͅƨ̷̗̫͇̞̠̀̈͒͗̌ɘ̵̭̭̱̮̬̓̃̔̄͝ ̶̢̯̙̘͍̂̀̃̀̋n̷͍̗̼̙̠̒͊̾͘͠ɒ̴̧̳͓̭͛̈̽̑͝ͅɈ̵̭̳̺͉̜̒̂̑͆̉ϋ̶̡̛͉͉͙̃͊̀ͅɿ̵̟̦̩͚̍͆͗̿͂ͅɒ̶̟̰̫̯̔̒̒͋͜͠l̸̼͖̼̞̜̅́́̔͘l̴̛͖̼͕̲̉̿̌̿ͅγ̷͕̠̬͓̮͆̎͋̾̄ ̷̖͈̺̝͕̋̈́̾̅̎ì̵̧̦̩͚̯̋͌͒͠ƨ̶̢̬̠̤̀͒̔̆͑ͅ ̵̹̮͈̫̯́̏̾͆͝ɘ̸̧̳͕̭͛̒̈́̌̽ͅx̸̟͚͉̞͌̄̄̿͠ͅɔ̷̣͔̮͇̣̀͗͒̽̃ɘ̴̨̧̖͓̳́̉̉̒̉q̴̹̙̲̺̭̾̆͛͊͝Ɉ̶̡̛̩͇̖̠̅̋̓̊i̶̱̩̰̫͍͐̎͛̅͘ő̸̺̻̟̮̜̄́̿̈́n̴̡͉͍̻̦͑̎͆͝͝ɒ̷̖̫̩͖̱̓̅̊̒͠l̷̢͔̪̱͍̃͊̒̔͝l̶̟͉͙̱̱͑̌̄̇̓γ̷͓̟̬̟͕̆̃̃͋͌ ̶̰̼̫̖̆̍̑̉́͜ɿ̷̛͉͍͚̩͖̇̋̾͠ɒ̶̳͚̰͖̂͂͑͘͝ͅɿ̸̩̱͕̻̪̀̌̐̅͝ɘ̴̢̗͕̗̞̊́͒͐͝,̵̢̰̯͉̫̇̊͌͆͝ ̷̯͖̹̝̫̂͑̃͆̚ɒ̷̜͍̮̮̹̽̈́͑̕͝ņ̷̭̹̼̥́̈́̋̒̚b̷̰̮̯̦̮̑̑͂͘͝ ̵̧̛̫̣̯̣̒̈́͂̑o̷̧̩̤̥̰̊̐̐̽̾n̸̢͇̲̤̣̈́̆̈́̑̈l̸̡̼̪̱̯̑̈́́̊̾γ̷͚̝̰̳̖̔̀̓̿͝ ̷͙̣͖͙̜̓̾̎̂̐Ɉ̷̬̲̼̐̇̉̓̕͜ͅʜ̴̺̺͕̪̦̈́͋̽̎̊ɿ̴̧̟̭̘͍̀̀̄̈́̕ɘ̵̛͖̲͔̺͓̔̿̄͠ɘ̶̣̗̦̘̰̏̈͊͊̀ ̸̮͔̘͖̜̓́̎̕͝ɔ̷̙͔͍̥͎͆̓̊͊̚ɒ̷̧̼̱͖̱͐́̈̔̇ƨ̸̢͍͓͕̺̒̒̑̀͘ɘ̷̡̤͓͍͍͆̐̌̑̋ƨ̸̛̛̩̲̤͓͍̉́͑ ̸̮̝̲̩̮̆́́͋̐ʜ̸̪̼̘̂͌̍̇͝ͅͅɒ̶͖͓͈̹͆͌̿̚̕͜v̷̠̹̰̪̍̽̇͂͗͜ɘ̷̗̰͇̝͆́̎̒͆ͅ ̷̪͔̥͎̮̾̃̒͛͘ḋ̸̡̙̗͇̣̓̉̔͠ɘ̶͚̤̰͈̫̓̿̉̉̅ɘ̵̤͙̭̗̰̈́̇̏̍̈ṇ̷̨͉̜̱̽͌̏̉͝ ̷̳̼͎̥̺̋̂͂̿̈́n̵͇̱̙̠̙̆͂̾̚͝ơ̶̡͖͕͉͖̑̂̀̉Ɉ̸̨̨̟̝̞̇̅͂̔̀ɘ̶̛̝̭̼̭̜͌̄̑̚b̶̡͍͖̥̱̿͐̓̿̿ ̸̨͈̗͈̻͊͛̈̓͘i̵͉̜̫̲̟̓͊͂͊̋ņ̶̧̺̻̣̿̈́̀̄̿ ̶̧̨̩̺͖͑̀̈́̽͘Ɉ̴̡̙͍̯͊͗́̌́͜ʜ̸̺̟̣͚̯̎͆̿̔̆ɘ̷̛̪̹̲̺̪͂̆̋̀ ̶̛̱͉̭̮̃̀̀͘͜l̸̯̘̮̼̥͆͗͋͋͝i̸̧͔̻͍̣͒̃̈́͋͠Ɉ̶̘͓͉̯̬͋̃̐̅́ɘ̷͙̮͙̘͙̀̓͛̈̆ɿ̴̠̮̮̳̝̏́͗͛́ɒ̷̡̗̲̝̦̈́̔̏̈́͠Ɉ̷̭̜͕͚̈́̎́́̐ͅυ̵̘̜̱̗̟͑̈́̓͊͒ɿ̴͙̜͉̩̹̓͐̋͂̕ɘ̵̯̯̥͉̟̓͐̇͘͠.̵̧͍͓̘̽̾͗̌̈ͅ

[starry-bi-sky]

childhood friends danny and jason miscellaneous thoughts: because why not, i'm reworking ch2 because it no longer fits with the remaster of chapter 1 so i've been thinking of them, and i love talking about them. which you should totally go read the remaster because its 26k words and im very proud of it and it barely got any attention.

First off Ellie vapes. Mostly because I think its real fucking funny. The first time Danny finds out about it he gets all up in arms about it. Ellie at first thinks its because she's smoking -- which, helloooo pot meet kettle, Danny has been smoking for a lot longer than she has.

And then he throws a curveball at her and says he's upset specifically because its vaping. Like no, no. Dammit, if you're gonna fuck up your lungs you gotta do it properly, none of this cotton-candy flavored nonsense.

He plays it up for laughs and it's largely non-serious 'i can't believe you're using a vape', if only to hide the fact that he is genuinely displeased with his little sister smoking. Self-destructive behaviors and bad habits are his thing, thank you very much.

But, well, he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he told her he didn't like that she was smoking. He's aware its bad for him, but habits are hard to break and he's not particularly keen to break this one in particular.

Danny bullies her relentlessly about it whenever she vapes in front of him. Like don't be a loser, Elle, carry a carton of cigs and a lighter in your back pocket like the rest of us degenerates.

[more under the cut]

Secondly: Danny's piercings? He got the first lobe piercings as a lost bet from Sam in junior year, and they did it in her room with a needle, a small bottle of blood blossom extract, and an apple. He broke out in hives for a week after thanks to the blood blossom, but it prevented the hole from healing up :)

He got the rest done professionally at a piercing place in the Ghost Zone. He asked Johnny where to find it. Sam and Johnny (and Kitty) nearly convinced him into getting snakebites. He got an eyebrow piercing instead.

Danny's undercut is also self-done, he did it because Technus shot at him with an ectoblast and it missed hitting him, but set his hair on fire. Danny got it out pretty quickly, but it left his hair lopsided and obviously looking like it got burned by something. He went to Sam for help after the fight. He liked the way it looks so he's kept it that way since.

-

Vlad brought up Jason once(1) in a taunt during a fight, and this was after Jason disappeared from the ghost zone, and Danny very. very nearly killed him on the spot. He hasn't done it since.

Which leads into the other thing: Grief Triggers! As I call them. All Banshees have them in this au.

While all banshees are, in general, in a permanent state of grief, Grief Triggers are a specific emotional response that can cause them to spiral into a state of intense, sometimes debilitating sorrow, and most of the time causes them to start wailing.

Banshees know what their Grief Triggers are and in general tend to try and build up a form of resistance against it so that, if something occurs that happens to trigger said grief, they can at least either get away from other ghosts to let loose or have enough control over themselves that it'll take more work to send them spiraling.

As expected, Jason is Danny's grief trigger. He's built up a pretty good resistance to it so that hey, talking about him and his death is easier than when Danny was fourteen. But a little more prodding and it will trigger, especially depending on who brings him up and how. (See: Vlad)

Grief Triggers also manifest relatively the same; with the induction of an intense state of grief and sorrow, but how a banshee acts on it can sometimes vary. Again, it depends on who triggers it and how. Some of them can get,,, violent, depending on how it happens.

Rath, this au's 'Dan', is a case of a banshee being put into the grief state caused by grief triggers and... never really leaving it. Which they usually do on their own, or with help depending on the severity of it.

At the time it happened Danny was going through the worst week of his life a second time: his best friend's ghost disappeared, then his family and friends all died right in front of him, and then he was stuck with someone who wasn't helping him through that grief.

He was already in the grieving state when Vlad tore out his ghost half. As a result, Vlad only made it worse. With that fury thrown into the mix, Vlad ended up getting torn apart and nobody else was close enough with nor could they get close enough to Rath to help him come down from the wailing state.

So Rath ended up getting stuck in a perpetual negative feedback loop of absolute misery, and well... drove himself insane. The rest of the world became collateral as a result.

-

the difference between Danny and Jason lies in the fact that Jason died, while Danny is dead.

-

I'm having more thoughts on the CFAU/TMWS universe banshees, actually.

Banshees are either born in the ghost zone from ectoplasm and are ecto-entities and work as banshees as how we know of them, or they're human spirits that died mourning someone and that grief was so intense that it turned them into a banshee. They're a little more rare.

These banshees typically mourn only one person, or sometimes they follow their Realm-born counterparts and choose a family to mourn for. Typically their own.

Ember is not a banshee; human spirit banshees are always mourning another person. However, her abilities emulate certain qualities of banshees: like the beautiful singing. But in comparison to an actual banshee, Ember's voice pales.

Does this mean Danny has the better singing voice? Yeah. Ember is incensed by this.

-

If canon Danny and CFAU/TMWS Danny met, I think canon Danny would be kinda unsettled or off put by CFAU.

CFAU Danny still has some pretty core Danny traits, at least I like to think so -- his general drive to help people just out of compassion for them (even if it manifests differently at first due to trauma), his wit and humor, his fear of failing to protect his loved ones, all of those resonate with canon Danny.

However, canon Danny, as far as I can remember and as far as his wiki goes, rarely gets extremely angry or emotional. He gets irritated and he gets annoyed but him getting mad I don't think happens super often. CFAU Danny is the angrier one between Jason and Danny. It's one of the things I consider a division point between him and canon Danny as it's a result of him growing up in Crime Alley. Canon Danny is canonically shy and meek prior to becoming Phantom, CFAU Danny couldn't be -- he'd be dead already.

CFAU Danny's anger would off put canon Danny, in my opinion. His anger, his smoking, and for lack of a better term, his bloodlust would unsettle him.

Like, for example, say CFAU Danny gets transported to a canon (or canon-adjacent) Danny's universe. He's staying with canon for a little bit as they brainstorm how to get him back home, and CFAU Danny goes to school with canon if only so that he's not stuck in the house all day.

Whether they try and pass CFAU Danny off as canon's cousin or if the town already knows that he's another version of Danny, it doesn't matter. Because insert Dash.

Dash who, in CFAU Danny's world, has since learned not to fuck around with Danny or the other kids because Danny has long since asserted that he will beat his ass if he does. 'Fucking around' always predates the 'finding out', and Danny is happy to act as consequence.

(As my father told me (paraphrased) when I was a small child and full of uncontrollable anger: "there's gonna be a day where you're gonna hit someone, and they're gonna hit you back")

And canon Dash, who is used to canon Danny who kinda just takes it because it means that he won't target other people, would see CFAU Danny. He'd notice the resemblance between him and canon, immediately try and go "oh new target!", and try and bully him the same way he does to canon. And Danny "I am the consequences of your actions" CFAU Fenton, instantly throws hands.

Just, CFAU Danny is kind but he's also Gotham-raised and full of bite; he's meaner than canon is. He's more ruthless too, especially in his ghost fights. The ease of which he slips into violence would, imo, discomfort canon. CFAU and Canon would eventually get along though, they're not so different that they'd be in constant clash of each other.

(Canon Danny and Danyal Al Ghul however,,, thats another post LMAO)

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 53

Jazz leaves amity for college. She did all the application and stuff via tuckers computer. For some reason nothing was going through on hers.

Due to majority of her extracurricular activists not being sent thought she didn’t get accepted to her top choices. Ended up going to Gotham u.

Things don’t add up. Leaving was a big deal. Like she ended up just going in the middle of night. The roads were closed for “construction”. They were absolutely fine when she ignored the signs and drove.

It took her less then a 6 hours to figure out amity couldn’t be contacted. She tried calling Danny upon getting to Gotham. Nothing. Research, nothing. It’s like the town didn’t exist.

She does have a communicator from tucker. One of the multi dimensional ones. She gets ahold of them just to hear the chaos. There is a hunt for her. Lockdowns. The whole town is shutdown.

She didn’t inform her parents where she was going. They only insisted she goes to the university in town and nowhere else. That could be the issue. She is 18 but they are extra special.

Obviously she’s gonna head back. What else’s is she supposed to do. She had to go get her brother and his friends. Do something. Authorities in amity never cared why would any outside force care. To bad her car suddenly doesn’t work.

Leads to her walking at night. Her goal is to find a rental car place or bus that maybe would be open late.

She doesn’t find a car or anything. But does punch a would be mugger. That punch back home would have not knocked a person back 5 feet into a wall. Were people here just that weak.

This leads to some guy in cosplay called Batman. Which come on that name is just as bad as box ghost. Telling her it’s not safe in Gotham for metas.

Jazz just lectures him on how that not his decision. She is going to be attending college here after she figures out why her home town completely shut down. All when she left for college. Besides she’s not whatever a meta is.

Long story short. Batman now has to deal with two not-metas in Gotham. Plus a whole town that didn’t exist. Multiple arrest. Then a possibility of pissing off the afterlife.

[minty-bunni]

I wonder if the Fenton parents would make something like an inhaled form of Ecto-Dejecto if they knew about Danny and Elle's status? It can be used as a spray or injection already in canon, but more options may be helpful for them.

[superwholocked2016]

How I think a first interaction between Marion from CLSFAOQFC and My oc Bambi from my fic DYOG would go! @lunammoon

[your-ghoul-pal]

Dew *smiling*: What that mouth doing *Finger guns* Aether *stone faced*: Spreading the excruciating pains of the mortal world Dew *now worried*: Are you okay?? Aether: Is anyone ever truly okay? Dew: I'm here if you need anything, what the fuck dude.

[answrs]

Character bingo thing:

Lewis Pepper my beloved

[kithj]

games (mostly text-based) about houses and places-- exploring them, haunting them, feeding them:

childhood homes (and why we hate them) - after a decade, you return home.

return - a text-based horror game about coming home.

singing from the far side of the hill - about a trans woman, homeless after a bad breakup, who rents a stranger's spare room. it's a decision she comes to regret.

anatomy - Explore a suburban house, collect cassette tapes, study the physiology of domestic architecture.

leave house - leave house

the open house - We at Northtree Real Estate (in partnership with Optix Dynamix Labs) are proud to present our new, state-of-the-art, open house simulator!  Come and take a quick tour of 15615 Hollow Oak Lane, a familiar and comfortable showcase home in one of our premier developments!

what girls do in the dark - This little game is based off one of the greatest fears they had as a teenage girl: showing up late to a stranger's slumber party.

unbecoming - a sonically-textured interactive horror fiction exploring cycles of trauma and unspeakable forces of nature in a mythic rural American landscape.

13 laurel road - an interactive fiction game about the relationships we have with places and reconciling with trauma. You play as a young man named Noah who has been tasked with picking up some things from his cousin’s old house.

domvs - a gothic mystery game in which you rely on your environment to uncover the truth.

flesh, blood, & concrete - you find yourself in a vast, empty apartment complex.

i am still here - a short, unconventional ghost story and vignette reflecting on the end of a long lockdown.

vacant - Film a ghost-hunting show.

[nerdpoe]

Danny needs a few...odd things. A few dietary and emotional requirements unique to his physiology. Meat is one of them.

But like, raw meat. He doesn't have to eat it often, maybe twice a month, but it does need to be completely raw.

He also needs to eat non-sentient blob ghosts, which are very different from sentient ones. Same amount, maybe twice a month.

He's weak to hot temperatures, where most humans require some sort of positive contact he needs to fight, if he gets too much sunlight his dopamine levels drop, and oddly enough as he got older milk or products with a lot of milk started to affect him like alcohol affects humans.

Now that he's made it to college, hiding most of these things is easy enough.

He chose Gotham, because of minimal sunny days and naturally cold weather. He regularly goes for walks at night, to fill his need for fighting. He says he has a milk allergy, and avoids milk products.

The blobs and the raw meat are a little uh. Those are a little hard.

He's taken to ducking into a bathroom stall to just swallow the blobs whole. But the meat...

He decides to sear the outside and leave the inside entirely raw. Does this detract from the nutrients by cooking them off? Yes. Does it mean he needs to eat raw meat four times a month instead of twice? Yes. Does it mostly hide that he's doing this in front of humans? Kind of.

Until he got a vegan roommate.

Said roommate is far too sharp-eyed for his own good, and now the guy is being weird.

Or: Damian's roommate is a meta who clearly has dietary restrictions outside the norm. It's fine; Damian understands that like animals in the wild, people have different diets. But the cuts of meat Fenton is eating are...subpar. Damian isn't sure how to be...civil, or appear polite, or not be a "snob" if he suggests Fenton allow him to procure farm fresh cuts of steak from cows raised in an open pasture and were well taken care of.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Big Fish in Gotham Pond

Based off of @saphushia art found here. . I just loved the idea of Tucker not knowing his skill level because he grew up in the boonies

Tucker gets scouted by Wayne Enterprises after he fixes a kid's computer game while in Gotham visiting Danny.

See, Tucker always known he is passable at tech- one has to be when a technology theme ghost is consistently harassing one's best friend- but to be good at something in a small town like Amity Park didn't mean much .

It's a big fish in a small pound sort of deal. That's why he's never put much thought into it. If Tucker were ever to rank himself in terms of school grades, he would say his computer skills were about a C-.

B+ if it was just coding.

His parents also don't think much of his obsession with his PDA or phones. They thought he waste too many hours on them like the rest of his generation.

It didn't matter that Tucker's technology was about five or more years behind his classmates.

The Foley were hard-working people who barely scraped enough for bills. They were never below the property line, but they danced on it often enough that Tucker knew never to ask for unnecessary purchases.

For as long as he could remember, his parents have always worked long and hard hours. He never blamed them for missing so much of his childhood, in fact he was grateful that they worked so hard to keep the roof over his head, but he did miss them.

That's why Danny's house became a haven for him. He was always at the Fenton's place because the loud, wacky family was much better company than the home silence.

Tucker knew that his family's financial situation didn't change how Danny or Sam viewed him. They had his back through tick and thin just as he did for them, but as they got closer to graduation the difference between them became jarring.

Sam had easy picking of what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go. Her parents were so overjoyed that she wanted to go to a university that they didn't even argue about her wishing to major in botanical biochemistry.

She had started house hunting in Star City midway through senior year. Her parents would gift it to her as a graduation present. Sam would live there for the next eight years to finish her degree.

Danny's parents, while somewhat eccentric, were also certified geniuses. Between the two of them, they had five PHDs and were often freelancing for companies when not doing ghost research. They too could send their two kids to college States away with housing not being a issue.

Jazz went to Metropolis to study Physiology. She lived in a small apartment but was doing well off her scholarships and parent's funding. Last he heard, she had a part-time job at the Daily Planet as a research assistant to gain some independence.

Danny wanted to go to Gotham for their engineering program. He, too, had an apartment of his own, with scholarships and equal funding from his parents. He also worked at Wayne Enterprises, but he was a receptionist. He hoped that once he graduated, he could apply for their engineering program

Not Tucker. His family could only help him get into Community College near Amity. He also couldn't afford to move out so he stayed with them, picking up a part time job to help out when he could.

Tucker is a first-generation college student so even though it wasn't much, he loved to see how his parents glowed when telling others their boy was futhering his education. He wanted to do something that paid well- and after years of patching up Danny- he figured nursing would do the trick.

Tucker would do all his basics in the community College, take a break to save up some money and then move on to the bigger schools.

The day of the graduation felt bittersweet. Team Phantom was finally adults, finally starting out in the real world, but while Danny and Sam moved on to bigger and better things, Tucker knew he would be left behind in little no-where Amity Park.

He never brought it up, but he felt a small dosage of envy the last day of summer before his friends finished packing and left.

Despite both being gone, Tucker had little to no social life even though they called, texted, and emailed often. His days blurred between class, work, and home. Even then, classes were long and tedious, work often ending with one or more customers screaming in his face to try and get free food.

His parents quickly started to nag that he should find a wife as they had married young. They couldn't figure out why he didn't want the same, even though he had no social life again.

Life became dull.

Tucker's only sparks of joy were playing online with Danny and Sam - when they found the time to log in or re-coding his old tech to try and salvage it whenever it broke down.

Soon, it became apparent that Tucker was slowly lacking motivation when he started skipping classes to sleep in and started feeling anxious when he needed to clock in for shifts.

It leads to him barely getting out of bed.

He felt horrible about it, thinking his parents sacrificed so much for him only to have him throw away the opportunities they gave him, and the cycle of not being able to get out of bed would start all over again.

It was Danny who caught on, and all but begged Tucker to come to Gotham for a weekend. He even sent money over for the plane ticket.

Tucker couldn't have gotten on that plane fast enough. He arrived early on Friday since the tickets were cheaper- and Uber over to WE headquarters to pick up Danny's keys as they agreed.

That way, Tucker could sleep and rest in the apartment while Danny worked.

Danny would finish his shift and have the weekend plus Monday and Tuesday off to spend with Tucker. When he arrived, Danny was helping a school check in for a field trip, so Tucker sat down to wait.

Next to him, a kid was growling at his laptop, frankly typing and moving his fingers over the computer's touch mouse. Tucker accidentally glimpsed his screen when the kid started swearing in a different language.

It looked like a shooting game but his lag was bad. By the time the boy pressed the buttons to have his little drone move the other flying things he was chasing were flipping though the air and out of his shooting rage.

It sucked when that happened, and since he was using WE free wifi for guests, it was probably the game. The graphics were badass, though. Seemed almost real.

"Hey try updating the system" He tells the kid after seeing the boy once again lag so bad he missed his shot.

Green eyes swing to him drenched in rage. Which yeah, Tucker knows how frustrating that could be.

"Did I ask for your help!?" The boy snaps, his words lined with an upper-class accent. Made sense since he was wearing a Gotham Academy uniform like the rest of the large school group. "Why are you even looking this way, peasant?"

"No, sorry. I just noticed the lag." Tucker raised his hand, slightly amused at the peasant insult. "I thought I could fix it for you."

The boy's face spams, "You believe you have the ability?"

"Ugh sure? I can try?"

"Here. Be quick. The fate of this city's air defenses depend on it" the boy turns his lap top to him and Tucker blinks.

Okay. So fix the game. He can do that.

And he does, quickly opening the code, analyzing the control and commands , he gets it running properly in less then twenty minutes. The boy seems utterly shock but he quickly takes control of the game and shoots down all the escaping ninjas from the sky.

"Thank you." The boy says with no more tense in his shoulders. Then he closes his laptop and dissappears with the crowd of students.

Tucker thought the kid was a cute.

Danny hands him the keys not long after and he leaves.

Never was he aware of the Boy being Damian Wayne and that the game was not a game but a actual defensive drone system that was fighting off the League of Assassins.

He only finds out how important those two facts are when Danny gets a call from Tim Drake asking if he could pass along Tucker's information because the CEO wanted him on staff as soon as possible..

Both nineteen-year-olds lost their minds after getting the call, screaming at each other in ghost shrieks of glee. They called Sam to let her know- and have her lawyers look over the contact Tim Drake sent just to make sure it wasn't a big-time company trying to screw him over.

He went to an interview three days later. He faced Tim Drake, the current seventeen-year-old CEO, Leo Noir, the current head of HR, and Jessica War, the current head of computer services. They asked him many questions about himself- some of which he felt he had answered terribly- then had him take a computer test.

Tucker thought it was busy work, so he quickly breezed through it. He fixed the problem in many of the coding for various programs, adding his flare to the final product, and after thanking them for their time, went out into the lobby.

He hadn't even reached the door before Jesssica ran after him, offering him the job. Apparently, the first two problems they had him do was the busy work. Tucker had thought they were the ones to let him get comfortable with the coding program.

Like a tutorial in video games.

The other seven were actual issues; many of their latest cellphone products failed. Tucker had solved them in an hour, which had taken the actual team of coders about a month.

"Nitey one dollar and thirty-five cents an hour," Tim tells him tapping the hiring contact. "It would be eighty hours every paycheck. You can work here or at home. Full Benefits. What do you say?"

Tucker's jaw drops. "When do I start!?"

He calls his parents to tell them he will be staying in Gotham with Danny. He tries to explain what had happened but it was all so fast that he can only babble about certain parts.

They tell him not to worry about explaining because they understand how much this means to him.

His parents help pack everything for him and when he flies back for it they, offer him hugs and support. Tucker is so glad they aren't mad.

"I sort of knew it was coming," His dad laughs. "You and that Fenton boy have always been inseparable."

"I did the same thing, you know," His mom says, wiping tears from her eyes but smiling all the same. "I moved with your father states away with little to no plan when I turned twenty too. Drove your grandfather mad."

He loves them both so much. He promises to send money- disregarding their denials- and flies back to Gotham, where Danny has opened his apartment until he gets enough for his own place.

He plans on renting a house with three bedrooms, one for him, one for his office, and another for Danny, as soon as he can. He wants to pay his friend back for everything he did and Danny deserves a bigger living space.

And for once, he'll not have to worry about money!

For once, life is looking up!

(What Tucker is unaware of, is that his parents think he moved to the big city to be with his childhood best friend turned recent lover. They don't know that the money he is sending home is from his own payroll and not Danny's. They think he's a stay-at-home husband.

Tucker is also unaware that the Bats are closely watching him in case he goes rogue. They have been slowly "causally" running into him in the city and breaking into his place to check for supervillain activity.)

[charlietheepicwriter7]

H̵̩͋o̸̹͒l̶̢̑ď̸͕ ̵͔͛T̴̲̄h̶͙͋e̶̤͘m̵͍̋ ̷͓̈D̵̯͛o̶̡̅w̵̖̃n̵͝ͅ

Get in the Water AU: Original Post Ruthlessness

Ghosts were physiologically different from humans.

It was something Tucker and Sam didn't understand. They saw Phantom as "Danny with superpowers," not as a fundamentally different being.

Sometimes, Danny didn't understand either.

But his parents did. Utter disregard for the scientific method aside, the Fentons were the ones who learned how inhuman ghosts were: "Just emotions and electricity imprinted on ectoplasm, Danno, nothing to be scared of!" Snapshots of people at the moments of their deaths. The past and the present, incapable of contemplating the future.

And with his duality, Danny struggled to understand either of his halves.

As a human, Danny could move past his nightmare of a childhood, compartmentalize and think to the future, when he was fully healed and his past couldn't hurt him anymore. So when Dora, first elected Queen of the Infinite Realms - long may she reign - asked him to collect all the resurrected humans for a health check and assessment... when he'd noticed Damian Al Ghul-Wanye on the list... He'd thought up a little prank to pull on his long-lost brother. A cruel one, perhaps, but nothing harmful.

As a ghost, Danny couldn't move on. He could never forget that Sam led him to his death, that his parents negligence allowed for the stage to be set, that the lab they loved so much held both his home and his grave. Just as Danny would always be that fourteen year old, caught in that moments, he was still the 7-year-old Danyal Al Ghul who trusted his brother not to hurt him... and ended up poisoned.

Phantom wanted his murderer to suffer.

And Danny, much to his shame, had allowed it.

For a few weeks, Danny managed to ignore it. He'd gone after Damian first, so there were tons of resurrected on his list. He started with the more extreme cases first, like Constantine, but soon enough the next on his list was Ra's Al Ghul.

He'd asked Queen Dora to send someone else, anyone else. That he wouldn't be able to control himself if he saw his grandfather again. Instead of relieving him, she'd given him a knowing look and told him to follow his core's desire.

She never mentions it, but Queen Dora had been a murder victim too.

There was no showmanship, no dramatic reveal. Just Danyal, his grandfather, and the Pit.

Despite all Ra's Al Ghul's power, he was no match for a spirit hellbent on drowning him.

That's what Danny did to his grandfather. He'd thrown up afterwards, once he was human before. But the ghost in him relished the act; he could still feel Grandfather's throat under his hands, pulse fluttering against his palm as Danyal held him down. He struggled and shook as the Lazarus waters filled his lungs, burning away healthy tissue. Fingernails morphed into claws that sliced through the tender skin, blood leaking into the water, and water leaking into the blood.

It took a long time for Grandfather to die. Deep within Danny, next to his core, he knew it was what was deserved. That the murdered finally had justice. He was content with never speaking of it again, a secret between him and the waters.

And now it was going to happen again as Phantom's impulsive mind overtook Fenton's tactical one.

He'd known Damian was looking into him. Knew another confrontation was inevitable, what with two more of his siblings needing their health checks. But as Danny was stalking their mother, searching for the best way to abduct her (she was still his mother after all, he didn't want her dead... yet), Damian and his family confronted her.

Relief washed over him as only a normal amount of rage bubbled up at the sight of Damian, instead of the overwhelming, all-consuming fury he'd felt. Danny laughed at their arguments, at Constantine thinking he could put a living ghost to rest, at his siblings-unmet and his father-unknown, until...

Damian confessed.

His murderer confessed, yet as he continued to speak, to explain, the fury rose in him again. Because it wasn't a betrayal. He'd always thought Damian betrayed him, but no.

Through his own ruthlessness, Damian gave him the only mercy he could manage. And there was only one thing Danyal wanted now.

""̸̲̈́T̶͘͜ä̵̢li̸a̶̬̓ ̴̬̐A̵̛̪l̸̲̚ G̸̛̫h̶̺̏u̸̢̚l!̴̳̈́ D̷̩̕o̸͛ͅ ̶̝̍y̴͙͘o̵̙͐u̵̬̓ ̴̤͂k̸̡̑n̵͓̈́o̷͈͝w̷͖͂ ̷͓͑w̴̧̄h̵̲͌o̴̮̔ ̵̼́Ị̷̂ ̷̣̽a̵̳̓m̷̩̓?̷̝͒"̷̧͠"

It was her fault. She was the reason why he was dead, nothing more than a coward who couldn't go against her father for the sake of her children. She abused them, she struck his brother, it was her fault-

"Danyal," she answered. And Danyal grinned, fanged and sharp.

He approached, the waters of his birthplace lovingly brushing against his legs, consoling him the only way they knew how. They whispered revenge into his ears, madness into his heart, just as they had when he'd confronted Damian, when he murdered Grandfather. "You have much to answer for, daughter of the Demon Head," he said, voice echoing around the room.

Unrestrained greed filled her gaze. "You've returned to me, my son."

Danyal laughed, brutal and rough. "I've returned for you, Mother," he corrected. "Don't think this reunion will end well for you."

"You mean to hurt me, Danyal?" she crooned, all false hurt and fake love.

"I mean to kill you."

Genuine anger flashed across her face. "My son would never-"

"Y̵̺̆o̴̩͂u̸͉̕r̷̰͝ ̴͔͝s̵̡̉o̶̡̎ň̵̞ ̶̗̈i̴̘̍s ̸̦̐d̴̯̚ê̶͚á̶̩d̷̻̈́," he snarled, and Damian flinched. He was too close to Talia. "You wanted me dead... for being weak. For having mercy." He stared up at his mother's shocked form. "I killed Grandfather. Tell me, is that ruthless enough for you, Umi?" Talia flinched with just her eyes. He hadn't been allowed to call her Umi since he was three.

Their father stepped forward, the naked distress on his face contrasting with his battle armor. "Danyal," he plead. "You don't have to do this-"

"Stay out of this, Baba." The man's breathing hitched. "This doesn't involve you."

Constantine tried to talk him down next. "It does, kid. A Siren on your level can't stay around for long. It's time for you to rest."

Danyal threw back his head and laughed. "As if you could stop me, exorcist." No more delays. It's time for action. "I will drown you all before you can."

Danyal lunged. And despite his mother's decades as an assassin, she couldn't kill what was already dead.

He held her down by the throat, the attacks from Damian's family bouncing off him. "This is mercy," he cooed as she desperately clawed at his hands. "For me. For Damian. For everyone you will try to hurt in the future. Ruthlessness is the only mercy I can give you now." Her face turned red as she gaped for air and Danyal-

Was thrown back into the water.

Reorienting himself, he found John Constantine standing over his mother, protecting her from him. "̷̪͂E̷̺͐x̷̝̑ŏ̶̺ȑ̴͉c̷̟͘i̸͔̋s̶̮̀t̶̯͝."

And the Pit's water began to rise.

[rboooks]

DC x DP Fic idea: The Bakery is a Front!...right?

Danny Fenton starts his own business in Gotham. He knows that moving to Gotham is dangerous in a way, but it is the only other place with enough natural ectoplasm that can sustain him.

He wanted to move away from Amity Park to start on a clean slate. His parents now knew the truth, and to show their support, they were turning their research into a more sociological base instead of biological- I.E. ripped ghosts apart. Jaz got accepted into her dream college- Oxbridge. She moved overseas and is doing well in her advanced physiological courses. They told their parents of Dani, who promptly adopted her and signed her up for a traveling club under the condition she returned home for school.

The ghosts stopped challenging him after he explained Amity was his haunt and that it was bad manners to spar inside a haunt. He is open game in the ghost zone, but Danny got to choose when to go in there- his obsession requires him to defend something, so defending weaker ghosts in the Zone was a good option.

Danny always wanted to be an astronaut, but his teenage vigilante lifestyle ruined his chances- it isn't even his grades. It's a fact Danny's heart is so slow due to his ghost side it is mistaken as a heart condition. No space program would ever send him up with that. Danny decided that he would instead go with his second joy- baking. He opened Phantom Bakes in his second week in Gotham using funds from his Ghost King vault.

He served everyone and asked no questions. He was mostly sure half of his customers were gang members, but he didn't start anything and didn't allow any fights in his bakery. He became a sort of haven for everyone. He even began preparing packs for people experiencing homelessness, and bought the building next door to put some heating systems for anyone to sleep In during the winter.

Despite his obsession with protection, his human side made it possible for him to ignore it. He decided that his teenage years were spent too much giving in to his obsession and that in his twenties, he would retire. He did nothing while the various Bats threw themselves into battle, he turned a blind eye to petty crimes and basically tried not to bring any attention to himself.

He managed about six months until he accidentally walked through a cloud of fear gas while texting Sam and Tucker. His friends were tying the knot- the fact they all were best friends and exes was only slightly strange- and he was so focused on helping them plan the wedding as their Best Man he didn't hear the gasps, and horrified yells until he ran into Scarecrow.

He apologized for not looking where he was going and got a needle shoved unto his arm as a response. Danny's reflex to that was to punch the man a foot away from him.

The Bats quickly locked up the villain, and Danny decided he needed to be gone as fast as possible. He tried to return to his everyday life, but the next day, some of Scarecrow's goons showed up at his bakery asking him for work....so he hired them and taught them to make pastries. Then those goons brought over some friends who needed work but were recovering addicts and couldn't find employment.

He added coffee to his menu and threw them into that. Then some street kids asked if he would buy some stuff from them. Danny told them that he wasn't interested in car parts, but he was interested in furniture for the building next door. He had kids bringing in broken bookshelves, bed frames, and much more, paying them far more than the shady garages would.

Then some shady groups of men kept coming to his bakery asking for money for protection but Danny can protect himself just fine and proved it every single time a group made trouble.

He started having the streey kids make deliveries hoping to get them out of life of crime.

He made natural ectoplasm which, after much testing and research done by his parents, proved to clean out dangerous substances from the body. He made unique pastries that could help overcome addiction and heal withdraw.

He saw the light slowly return to the eyes of a drug-ridden community, and it brought him so much joy he barely charged for them.

Unknown to Danny, he has set himself as a up and coming villain. Rumors of his Fear Gas immunity attracted the attention of the Joker- who was found with all limbs broken, beaten black and blue after the clown tried to take a swing at Danny's employees. The baker had taken his broken body back to Arkharm, dragging the bleeding man through the streets uncaring of the line of red he left or the various people recording him in awed fear.

The rest of Gotham waited to see his true colors as he carefully built a front and gathered people. Some want to take him out as soon as possible.

Red Hood, most of all, after he heard that Danny had kids run special deliveries to know addicts. The only reason he hadn't blown his brains out was because Danny hadn't set himself up in crime alley.

The Bats had even talked him into joining an undercover mission to learn more about Danny. They didn't know what drugs he was moving or if he had a hand in other crimes, and needed more information that Oracle was unable to find.

She couldn't pull anything on Danny, driving her insane. (Techus erased Danny from the internet as a prank once and forgot to undo it.)

That led to Jason and Tim entering Phantom Bakes, acting like street kids who ran away from a homophobic father looking for a job.

Danny had them decorate cupcakes within the hour, letting them know he didn't expect them to crunch out masterpieces. They knew it would be a while to see Danny's real business so they bite thier tongues and got to work.

Tim just hopes they finish this mission before Jason snaps and shoots their main suspect....or before Danny romances the entire of Gotham because, goddammit, he has as much game as Brucie pretends to have. It's getting frustrating to see so many people throwing themselves at him, only for Danny to pretend not to notice. His good looks, charming personality, and carefully manipulated cover, drag good people into his schemes. He didn't want another Harley Quinn.

(He will ignore that his heart skips a beat whenever Danny gets too close. Thank you very much. It's just a crush; people get those all the time.)

(Part 2) (Part 3)

[undercookedcatgut]

Danny always wanted a dog. Cujo was great, but he wasn't always there. Cujo was far too free spirited to be held down by being a pet. So Danny decides to take in a stray.

Then SOMEHOW he ends up with the most rabid, bacteria infected canine he's ever met, and he absolutely ADORES his new puppy. He also forgets about vaccinations and vet visits.

In Danny's defense! The puppy was fine and so was he, what with his unique ghost physiology, and that would've been fine — if he didn't have a roommate that was a human who COULD contract diseases from Danny's cute little friend.

-

Meanwhile, Jason, who was NOT expecting someone to actually take up his residency offer, now has to play roommates with this kid and his dog. He's pretty sure the pup has several diseases just waiting to pounce on him.

[sleepingdead96]

Prepared for Anything Part Two

Gotham was a terrible place to live.

It was great.

People weren’t overly friendly or familiar with people they didn’t know, meaning they paid Danny no mind. No one mentioned he had fangs. No one commented on his slightly pointed ears. And no one questioned his strange ability to ward off muggers and would be criminals without even having to speak to them. His ghost aura came in handy sometimes.

It also mean that rent was dirt cheap. Especially in Crime Alley where Danny had taken up residence. It was made even cheaper by the fact that Danny didn't need heating with his ghostly physiology. It cut a lot down on bills. Not that it really mattered much. As Ghost King, he had an abundance of funds that he wasn’t sure he could dry it up within fifty lifetimes, let alone his one. However immortal it was.

The downside was the old wiring. Leaving him here. Eating Mac and cheese out of the pot he’d been cooking up as he watched the fire flicker and smoke plume out the windows.

Now, Danny hadn’t been planning to flee his apartment, it’s not like he woulda been in any danger, but his neighbour, some guy named Jason, had gone door to door, ensuring everyone was following the fire drills that children learned in elementary school which were ultimately incredibly flawed. Who really believed that an entire school of children would stay calm and collected during an actual fire?

Jason was nowhere to be seen now, though. Danny wondered if he was okay, but that guy currently helping a family out onto a fire escape, Red Bird. . .Red Helmet or something, would probably make sure he was. He was apparently a crime lord, but a good one?. . . .

. . .

Gotham was weird.

Just as the red guy and the family reached the ground, a scream for help called from the second top floor. They sounded young. Danny looked up to see a little girl at a window and flames raging too close for her to go anywhere.

Well. . . that was concerning. Who had left such a young kid unattended? 

Red Dude was dashing out to the front of the building to get his bearings, looking for a way up. He wouldn’t be able to reach the girl using the fire escape. Danny took another bite of his Mac and Cheese, watching as the man’s grapple gun jammed.

Danny heaved a deep sigh. 

He supposed he would have to get involved.

Leaving the crowd of tenants that had huddled on the sidewalk, Danny trudged back across the street and into an alley. He went far enough that no one would see him and opened a portal. With one hand, he reached in, found purchase on his quarry, and turned away to drag the ladder out and behind him.

Danny found Trigger-Happy-Dude starting to scale the building. Danny interrupted him before he got too far.

He belatedly wondered where the fire-fighters and cops were.

“Oh, hey, look what I randomly found in that alley.”

Red Dude paused to look at him. Looked at the ladder trailing behind Danny.

“It’s a ladder.” Danny raised it slightly from his lazy hold, noting how much he felt like he was giving an infomercial right now. “Pretty long, huh? Long enough to reach that floor, I bet.” Danny added helpfully with an encouraging nod. “How fortuitous.”

The Red Dude was quick to drop down and take it from him, but stared at Danny the whole time as if was abnormally weird.

Which was rude. Danny was just abnormal, thank you very much.

“Uhh. . .good work.” Red Dude said, setting up the ladder with Danny’s help. The vigilante tested it for stability. 

Danny scoffed. As if he would purposefully tamper with it.

Which wasn’t too far-fetched in this city.

Red Dude deemed it acceptable. “Hold it steady for me, would ya?”

Danny nodded.

The man climbed up and Danny held both sides, pouting down at his pot of Mac and Cheese he’d had to set aside for the moment.

Ah, the sacrifices he makes.

Across the street, there were a multitude of cheers as Red Dude reached the little girl and settled her on his front like a backwards piggy-back hold.

Danny stepped aside when Red reached the bottom to pick his pot back up.

Sirens cut into the roar of flames above their heads and the loud call of the tenants that had lasted rather short, a few half-hearted cheers dying on the wind.

It was the middle of the night. Everyone was tired.

The mother of the little girl ran up to take her child and flagged down the first paramedic to arrive on the scene.

Danny returned his gaze to Red Dude who equally eyed him. Or at least, Danny assumed. His head was facing him.

“You’re that guy who punched out Joker.”

Danny paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. He slowly brought it the rest of the way. “How’d you know about that?”

“Cameras.” Hood tapped his helmet with a finger. “I saw RR and Robin’s video feed.”

Danny hummed, nodding along as he chewed. He wasn’t terribly concerned. Danny was just a random guy that happened to punch another random guy. It probably happened all the time in a place like Gotham. There was no need for further investigation into who Danny was. The vigilantes had probably forgotten all about him until this instant.

Red Dude looked at his pot. “That’s what you’re eating?” He said, somehow conveying judgement through the modulator.

“Yep.” Danny took another bite. After a moment of contemplation, he left the fork in his mouth to produce another from his hoodie pocket. He held it out to Red Dude. “Mac and Cheese?”

The dude leaned back slightly and his crossed arms gave the impression he was offended. “You just carry forks around in your pockets?”

Danny shrugged. “Ah, ya know, never leave home without a back-up fork.”

Red Dude considered him for another moment and Danny thought he’d decline. But then, he shrugged, his stance relaxing somewhat. “Sure.” He accepted the fork.

[hypewinter]

I've had a brainworm for a few days now so here me out.

After an accidental reveal gone wrong, Danny is forced to flee the country with both his parents and the giw after him. While he's trying to find some place internationally to settle down, he comes across a secluded complex.

Said complex happens to have access to an ectoplasm run off which Danny is in desperate need of. Though it has been corrupted by whatever the people of the complex have been doing to it, that's no problem for Danny as he can easily purify the portion he takes in to survive.

Deciding this is the perfect place to live off the grid, Danny sets to work figuring out how to blend in. It turns out that's the easy part. With his temporary stint as a ninja, his training with his black belt mom, and his general ghost physiology, he fits in pretty well.

He fits in so well in fact that he is told he'll be training someone one of the head bosses has their eye on. A kid his age.

Basically what follows is Danny accidentally ruining Talia's plans for Jason by unconsciously purifying his corruption and just talking him through his emotions. When Jason gets back to Gotham, he returns without a clouded mentally and realizes just how much Bruce went through after his death.

Instead of unleashing his complicated plan, he quietly takes over the underworld. He loves his father but also knows there are situations in Gotham that require a more firm hand. Jason decides to be a firm hand in his dad's place.

(I imagine he is only revealed on accident yet his reunion with his family is just as dramatic as Under the Red Hood. Tbh it probably has something to do with the joker suddenly going missing.)

Meanwhile back at the League of Assassins, Talia is impressed by Jason's training and is under the impression that his failure in Gotham is due to him getting cold feet at the last second so she puts Danny in charge of Damian's training.

Danny this time takes a more conscious role in ruining the league's brainwashing by challenging Damian's beliefs and teaching him he should use his weapons to protect, not to harm. By the time Damian gets to Wayne Manor, there is significantly less deprogramming that needs to be done.

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Louder than Words - Portgas D. Ace

Portgas D. Ace x Reader

This is like the mushiest piece I have written. I was kinda embarrassed...but here it is. Let's give him the hugs and space he needed huh? This could also be a message to you lovelies out there too. MasterList linked at the bottom too!

Ace didn’t know what came over you, but whatever it was, he wasn’t complaining. Per se. 

You’d cupped his face gently, rubbing your thumbs along his cheeks tenderly, while he just looked back at you, curious. He smiled, in hopes of easing or appeasing whatever drudge was swirling in his chest and tainting this moment, “everything alright?”

You hummed and nodded at him, not a line on your expression but the bliss that pulled at your lips, revealing your peaceful serenity to him. His breath hitched slightly as you pressed your lips to his forehead, lingering for a moment. Then a shorter peck to his nose, before nuddling it back and forth with your own. He reopened his eyes when you tilted his head, still cradled in your palms, and pressed kisses to either of his cheeks.

You pulled away enough to look him in the eyes, and he felt his heart chase after you, beating with a tenacity meant to jump ship from his chest to yours. Your eyes dropped to the last target on his face, and he felt his entire physiology twist in anticipation.

You guided his face to yours gently, holding him as though he was the most prized treasure of all the seas. If he ever said that aloud, you would agree. 

Your own personal One Piece. 

You guided him, and he followed eagerly, gravitating towards you naturally, and you met him somewhere in the middle, colliding in an explosion of euphoria, igniting the wiring of his entire being.

His every sense sharpened, yet by attuning himself to your every move he melded into you. He-his edges-seemed to all but disappear as he chased after you unwilling to disconnect for a moment longer than necessary. Your pull, irresistible-inevitable as he continued to dive deeper into it.

Deeper and deeper. 

Closer and closer. 

Chest to chest. 

Heart to heart.

Until you gently guided him away, again cradling his face and rubbing sweet, sweet, tender circles into his skin, massaging your warmth into him. Your eyes again held his, and gosh you’re just so beautiful. He’s pulled out of his daze when he felt your chest struggling under his. You’re panting slightly, your breathing a little strained, and he realized that his weight on you definitely isn’t helping. 

He lifted himself up just slightly-unwilling to completely part but-no longer crushing you. He couldn’t help but wonder: when had he ended up on top of you like this?

You’re gently moving his head about in your palms again, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Then another to the crown of his head and for a moment he’s so glad he showered and washed his hair yesterday.

“I’m so thankful to have you in my life,” you breathed into his skin, lips inscribing the words into his forehead, and tugging on his heart strings.

Again his head is guided by your hands and again his eyes are treated to the sight of yours. Like a rope with a knot catching onto a splinter of wood, the air caught inside his chest. Your own eyes trailed over his features, slowly, carefully, as though committing every part of him, every detail, to memory. You studied him with a sort of reverence, your awe manifesting in a choked gasp and subtle widening of the eyes.

Your hands slowly slipped from his face, and he found himself missing your touch immediately. Thankfully, he didn’t have to part with it for long. 

“I am so grateful,” your fingers ghosted along his cheek moving to his lips, “that you exist,” your words tugged at that stuck knot.

“That you were born,” a warmth spread through his chest - yet he couldn’t breathe. 

“That you exist in this world - and that I,” your expression became impossibly soft, “that I get to know you.” 

He opened his mouth desperate to return the sentiment, but you continued gently tracing his lips as you did, “that you’re allowing me to love you like this.”

He couldn’t-

You let out a little squeak at the speed and force with which he sat the two of you up and held you. His fingers interwoven with your hair, his nose buried in your neck, his other hand pressing you into him, melding you into his body. Soon enough, even his legs came to wrap around your own, completely preventing any chance of escape.

Though to be honest, you escape to him, not from him. 

Oh the things you did to him. 

He might be made of fire, but his devil fruit couldn’t protect him from the way your affections effectively set fire to his very brain-his heart. His chest heaved, pressing against yours, his eyes water and his grip tightened. Tremors overtook him as he fought the urge to crush you completely into his body. 

How could joy resemble a knife tearing through his chest? How could the tearing pain feel so delightful? The contradictions were enough to make his head spin and his thoughts knot up.

A gentle hand - your gentle hand slowly worked its way through his hair, patiently undoing any tangles your fingers came about, consequently undoing the intricate knotting of the net entangling his mind. The delicate trails your fingertips drew along his scalp soothed his thoughts such that each raging beastly emotion was conquered in turn. It wasn’t too long before he’d vanquished the confusion, your tender care steering him to clarity.

You were steering him towards dreamland too if he’s honest, as his consciousness began to ebb under the rhythmic flow of your fingers through the waves of his hair. It wasn’t long before it plunged completely into the ocean of unconsciousness. 

// ——

When he regained consciousness you were seated beside him, reading something or another. You were really engrossed in whatever it was you were reading, so much so that you startled a little when his hand lethargically claimed your own, pulling it closer to him.

He brushed his lips on the back of it, grinning up at you with eyes that drooped with the sleep still in them. He delighted in the flustered expression you wore in response to his own affections, blinking at you slowly. You marked your page with your free hand, before closing the book to give him your undivided attention.

“How was your nap, love?” Love you called him. Love.

His eyelids closed, succumbing to the weight they seemed to carry, basking in the bliss washing over him like a gentle summer shower. 

Love. 

He could hear you moving about, his hold on your hand tightening as you shifted. A little groan left him as he struggled to open his eyes and mouth to speak to you. You were not helping with how your other hand came to comb his hair again, but he managed, “mmm you’re…gon’ make me fall ‘sleep ‘gain.”

“Then that means you need more sleep m’love,” m’love, not just any love, your love. Yours. 

He was your love. 

Yours.

He was yours. Happily so. Forever would be too. If you’d have him. 

He hummed, lips weakly pushing through sleep to show you his satisfaction. 

Your voice was much closer to him now, speaking from right above his head, and he fought an uphill battle trying to open his eyes to look at you. His whole body felt heavy, completely sapped of strength. Heck even his grip on your hand was as limp as ever. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was in contact with sea stone or something. 

He felt you press your lips to his forehead again, gently fueling him enough to pull his lips into a drowsy, wobbly, smile. 

“Get some rest love,” you spoke softly, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Stay wit mmmmm,” talking was proving to be a challenge, “c’mere.”

He threw a heavy arm over what he hoped was your waist. It probably was? Gosh he couldn’t care with the way you were giggling next to him. 

“Sure thing love,” you had to be doing some kind of magic with how he felt like he was levitating despite the weight that seeped into his bones, “just let me brush my teeth first.”

He couldn’t hold you down if he wanted to with how tired he was, “mmm back soo,” he mumbled.

“Sure thing,” his lips wobbled themselves into a smile as you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead again. 

He was out instantaneously. You kept your promise though; through his daze he felt you slip in and embrace him. Seems like his body knew what to do too, despite its earlier lack of cooperation, and he wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you in return before he was out again.

He woke up in your arms. 

His head rested against your chest, with your arm languidly around his shoulders. Taking in a deep breath filled him with the nostalgia of the scent of home. A home that did not exist in his memories. Which meant it probably existed in his imagination then. A home that could be. A home with you.

It was the scent of home nonetheless. 

He tightened his hold on your waist nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

I’m so grateful you exist.

His arms instinctively tightened.

That you were born. 

His inhale was a stuttery one, his own lips and vision stuttering as well. He buried his face further into your neck, taking in your scent again. Yet all that did was push the tears out faster. 

That was the opposite of what he’d expected! 

Urgh. One of those hot, salty blobs ended up on your skin.

To his relief, and dismay - oddly enough - you remained unconscious. Your eyes closed and breathing consistent. Though that didn’t last long, as you shifted slightly, the arm around his shoulder worked to pull him into you, as your other one came up to play with his hair-you really liked doing that huh?

“Get it aaall,” your voice was thick with sleep, “get it all…out,” you hummed a bit, “let all that poison out.”

“Darlin’, did I wake you?” It was pathetic how his voice cracked - he hated this weakness that was welling up...again.

Just like that, your hold on him tightened, your lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head. 

“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” you sounded much more awake now, “you’re one of the people I want to be there for the most.”

Unfortunately, a choked sob left him. Gosh he was so pathetic. He was a full grown man! He wasn’t supposed to be some weak crybaby! To think he used to get mad at Luffy for crying too!

Yet…

He. couldn’t. stop.

His shoulders shook, the tremors traveled his body, and a violent shiver wracked it. Yet you laid and held him and ran your fingers through his hair, kissing your favorite spot on his forehead consistently. Every kiss, every gentle brush of your loving fingers tenderly working through his hair, every tender trace of your fingertips on his scalp, brought a fresh wave of tears to follow the next. At some point he’d started clutching on to you, like you were the life-ring preventing him from drowning.

He wasn’t sure how long you two stayed like that. All he knew that in between his sniffles and his sobbing there was your voice. 

“Get it all out love,” you lightly encouraged - as though he wasn’t lesser for crying like a baby. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you said a few times too - as though this pathetic display wasn’t shameful.

“I love you so much,” you reaffirmed time and time again stroking his hair - as though his weakness didn’t make him less desirable.

For whatever reason he didn’t doubt a word. Despite the mental cesspool working overtime to drown him in darkness, the light of your honesty shone through. No matter how far he fell, it followed.

He wasn’t sure how long you two lay there, holding each other, and he wasn’t sure when he’d lost consciousness again. His eyes were so incredibly heavy when he woke up again though. They must be swollen from all his crying. You weren’t next to him this time, however as his senses came back to him, he could hear the sounds of a pen scratching and paper flipping.

When he sat up, he noticed a pitcher of water and a tall glass with an opaque yellow-tinted liquid and some mint leaves in it-lemonade probably-on the bedside table. He had a moment to locate you at his desk before you turned to face him, “hey there.”

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still thick from lack of use.

You put the pen down, got up, and walked towards him with a kind smile, “I made you some lemonade, and got some water,” you sat down near his legs, “gotta replace all those fluids you lost.”

That got a chuckle out of him, “your lessons with Marco are going well, huh?”

“I also have a lot of personal experience with these things,” you grinned at him.

“With crying like a baby?” 

You just hummed and nodded.

“This might sound bad,” you weren’t looking at him as you confessed, “but I’m kind of…” you trailed off, shooting him a quick glance, “happy,” you shrunk, your shoulders reaching your ears, “you felt safe enough to be that vulnerable with me.”

“So, you liked seeing me cry?” He poked at you. “Should I cry more for you, doll?”

“Ace,” you groaned, your smile only growing fonder as you looked at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a masochist,” he kept teasing, “I’m not sure how I feel about this kink of yours.”

He loved the way you rolled your eyes, but revealed your teeth with how big your smile was getting. “I don’t like seeing you cry,” you corrected, “I like that you feel safe with me.”

You paused, then appended, “well safe enough to not hide your pain.”

“Hide my pain?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Crying is one way to get pain out of your body,” you twisted your body to face him more fully, voice soft as you shared your opinion, “emotional pain especially.”

“Isn’t crying just weakness?” He frowned at you. 

“No?”

“It’s not?” 

“Do you think I’m weak when I cry?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“But you’re a woman.”

A tired look flashed over your features momentarily, “so men aren’t allowed to cry?” You challenged, tone still as patient as ever.

“Only weak men cry,” for some reason the words sounded less convincing in your presence.

“Who says?” His gaze snapped up to meet yours and you repeated yourself, “who said?”

“Isn’t it just something that everyone knows?” His brow furrowed, scowl taking his features. 

“No,” you paused as you said that, “well I guess in a sense,” you squinted at nothing, “yes… it is something that many people assume.”

“You just saw me cry like a baby,” he countered, “you don’t think I’m weak?”

“On the contrary,” he felt his eyes widen despite the weight embedded into them, “you’ve been carrying all that pain.” 

An ache tormented your gentle expression, “and you choose kindness and warmth and bring joy to those you care about despite it,” you looked him in the eye again, “that isn’t something a weak person could do.”

A shiver traveled down his spine at the way your eyes studied him, softening as you opened your mouth to speak again, “kindness is the mark of the strong, Ace,” you placed your hand on top of his notably larger one, pride dripping from your voice, “and you’re so incredibly kind.”

What was with you and stealing the air from his lungs? He felt his chest constrict like he’d been punched too.

“We’re so lucky to have you in our lives,” your thumb traced circles onto the back of his hand, “we’re even luckier to be loved by you.”

He could feel that prickling in the back of his eyes he was becoming way too familiar with for his liking. “We really have to do something about that crying kink of yours,” he joked.

You scoffed, shaking your head, but you weren’t mad. “I think I’m just going to have to tell you more often how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

His heart lurched in his chest, “I think I’m the lucky one.”

“We can both be lucky.”

“Then I’m luckier.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yea huh.”

“Agree to disagree?”

“No,” he has a huge grin on his face at your scowl. 

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, rising from the bed with a dramatic sigh, “I’ll let you believe whatever you want to believe.”

“Oi!” He couldn’t help the chuckle that left him.

“Drink some water and your lemonade, love,” you gave him a little peck on his forehead again, “then let’s get you showered and fed.”

He caught your wrist as you moved away, “where are you going?”

“To the desk,” you blinked at him.

“What’re you up to there?”

“I’m just going through some paperwork,” he really was the luckier one of the two of you.

“Marry me,” the words flew out of his mouth before his mind could even register them in his thoughts.

You laughed, raising your left hand for him to view, “already did.”

Shoot.

“Now,” mirth still colored your expression, “you drink your lemonade while I get these papers done.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted you and allowed you to slip out of his grasp.

It was when he’d finally moved to lean back against the wall and grabbed the drink you’d prepared that he heard you giggle a little. Strange, given what you were working on, “see something funny?”

“No,” you singsonged, cheerfully wiggling in your seat, “it’s just my husband asked me to marry him, again, and I’m feeling very happy.”

His head clunked against the wall he rested against, heat rushing to his cheeks as a disgruntled groan left him, despite the way he was grinning, “I swear I didn’t forget.”

“I didn’t think you did, love,” you giggle some more, turning slightly to look at him, “I’m just so happy you would want to marry me, again.”

“I’d marry you again every day if I could,” he took a swig of his lemonade enjoying the way you fought and failed to keep your smile contained as it threatened to split what he could see of your face.

You turned back around and he could see that you were fighting to focus on the papers in front of you. 

“How about we have another wedding on the Moby Dick?” He found himself scooching his way down the bed, his excitement uncontained. “We can get you a proper dress this time! Your own!”

He looked up thinking some more, “and I’ll wear a proper suit with a vest and a tie and everything!”

“I’m surprised you know about vests and ties,” you shot him a teasing grin.

“Hey! I took some etiquette classes as a kid!” 

“You did?”

“I didn’t tell you?” He’d have to tell you more about his life before he set sail then. “Yeah back when I was in the East Blue,” it’s been a while since he left huh? “Makino-a barmaid from the village nearby-taught me manners.”

“So she’s the one that taught you about vests and ties?”

“Yeah,” oh wait a second, “we can have Thatch make us a huge cake and a feast!” Now that he was back on the original topic he had so many ideas! “Pops can officiate! Marco can be the one to bring you down the aisle! And-and-”

“You really want to have another wedding then?” You were now turned to face him completely.

“Yeah! How about it?” He scooched even closer to you. “Our first one was nice too, but we were in a hurry and I remember we had to go with whatever we had.”

“Is it bad that I liked our small, humble wedding?”

“Huh? No of course not! It was great!” Where did that come from? “I’m just saying we can have another so I can ‘marry you again.’”

“Hmm the idea of seeing you all dressed up in a three piece suit is tempting,” you hummed.

He guffawed a bit at that. “I’d probably mistake you for an angel if I saw you in a white dress.”

“Aww you wouldn’t recognize me?”

“Nah because,” he smirked, “I’d be blinded by how beautiful you’d look.”

When you hunched your shoulders to your ears and looked away a bit, his chest swirled with pride. He was getting better at this flirting with you thing!

“Maybe we shouldn’t then,” sounds of protest were leaving him before he knew it, “I don’t want to blind you.”

That had the two of you laughing.

When you calmed down, you turned back towards the work waiting for you, “there isn’t much left to do commander, so stop distracting me.”

Your distraction quickly chugged the rest of that refreshing glass of juice, and moved back to pour himself a glass of water. Something seemed to click within his head as he pondered your order: “I’m distracting now, am I?”

“Very.”

He burst out laughing. “Well we’re even then,” he proceeded to take a loud slurp of water.

He almost choked on it laughing when he saw you startle a bit, his flirt landing well with you again. 

Cradling his glass, he opted to just watch you work. He’d make your second wedding happen. You deserved to be celebrated again and again. Besides, it’s not like pirates didn’t party regularly. So it’s not like they’d be going out of their way really-if that’s what you were worried about. Well, knowing you, that was something you were worried about. He found an amused little huff leaving him at that thought. 

“See something funny, love?” Seems you’d heard him.

“Nope,” he grinned your way, “just thinking.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“Hey!”

“You come up with some pretty crazy schemes,” he noticed the little smirk on your lips - oh you cheeky - “they’re usually fun, even if they’re dangerous.”

“Like you’re one to talk!” He grinned. “You always add on more crazy things!”

“My crazy things are to make your crazy things less dangerous,” you hummed, “I very much prefer you alive, well, and healthy you see.”

“You just like me,” he beamed at you with a laugh.

“I love you, actually,” you responded without missing a beat nor looking up from your paperwork.

Yeah.

He was definitely giving you that second wedding here on the Moby Dick. Maybe even at one of the prettier spring or autumn islands on Pops’ turf. Whatever you’d like the most! Heck he’ll give you two second weddings - er - a second and a third. Wedding. Yeah.

Oh!

Maybe he could even surprise you with it! 

He ought to get started on it - today! Right now!

He threw back the rest of his glass of water and rushed to the door.

“Ah! Ace! Wait a second!” He paused right before opening it up. “I’m just about done with this! Let me finish and I can help you with your hair and back!”

“Huh?” He raised a brow at you.

“Huh?” You returned equally confused. “Weren’t you going to shower to feel better?”

“No?” He tilted his head.

“Then you’re going straight for the kitchen?” You continued, still confused. “Didn’t you want to eat together?”

Oh that was tempting. He couldn’t say no to that. Wait, even the shower help was tempting. You’d been the one to teach him how to properly scrub his scalp after all. But he didn’t want to delay his surprise a second longer!

“Then, I’m gonna get some fresh air,” not really a lie, he’d get fresh air on his way to see Marco, “then we can eat together.”

“So no shower?”

“Wouldn’t we get caught?”

“What do you mean? I’m just washi-Ace!” You let out a garbled sound making him laugh.

“Alright, alright darlin’,” he gave you a lopsided grin, “I’m just teasing. Yeah we’ll do both.”

“Okay,” you seemed pleased with that outcome, despite it being more work for you.

He let go of the door handle to come press a kiss to your forehead, “love you.”

“Love you too,” you returned immediately.

He walked out the door feeling lighter than he had in a while.

Yeah he was definitely giving you the grandest wedding he could, and he was a Whitebeard pirate, and they really knew how to party.

Extra:

Later during an “Official Division Commander Meeting”:

Izou: she must be the one to pick out her dress

Ace: then I’ll take her out to get one picked

Izou: absolutely not! I will

Ace: hey she’s my wife

Izou: exactly! You’re not allowed to see her in the dress until the ceremony you fool!

Marco: (placing a comforting hand on Ace’s shoulder) well, there’s no one better for this task than Izou yoi

Izou: hmph! but of course

Thatch: you all have the easy part, I have to make all the food, and the cake

Ace: it’ll be worth it!

Thatch: for you maybe, you’re not the one cooking to feed a fleet. I swear I have the most difficult job

Marco: we have feasts all the time, no need to do anything extra yoi. 

Ace: except the cake! The cake is really important!

Thatch: yeah yeah I heard you. groans

Marco: Besides your division has a bunch of cooks to help you out doesn’t it?

//------------------------

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