#poor danny is anxious

[nanenna]

Alternate Ending

So there was a comment on AO3 that got me thinking and... yeah. I don't hate the previous ending but I don't really like it either, so have a 6k+ offshoot that takes off shortly before the final scene change above. Enjoy! UwU

----

“I would like to state for the record,” Duke was saying as they filed out to the lobby, “that I called it. Bruce as my witness, right down to the bad dye job.”

“I dunno,” Jason replied, “I think the hair is legit. I’m pretty sure Phantom was doing some kind of magic with his voice too. The same kind of magic as Ember, but a different spell? I’m not really sure how to explain it.”

“It makes sense Daniel would learn magic if he took up with magic users,” Damian said stiffly.

“Oh,” Bruce had spotted a stand selling memorabilia once they hit the lobby, “how about we stop and get some of the new merch before meeting them? It would be silly to have Phantom sign something outdated.”

His children all shrugged and went to go join the queue. Bruce pulled Damian off to the side where they were less likely to be overheard. “I know you want to stick to the plan, but Daniel has already proven to be a flight risk.”

Damian scowled mightily, clearly unhappy to hear this. “What do you suggest, then?”

The fact Damian was even asking showed a great deal of restraint as well as a willingness to compromise that Bruce wanted to encourage. “For tonight you and I sit out from the meet’n’greet, then we do some planning. Before you start, I know you want to reach out to him, and I still think you should, but if he runs again we might truly never see him again, he has access to a whole other dimension that we simply cannot get to on our own.”

Damian, who had tensed up to argue, let his shoulders fall slightly, “What do you mean, Father?”

Bruce sighed and glanced at where the others were in the queue. He lowered his voice and bent down to speak into Damian’s ear, wary of being overheard. “Phantom is a known entity to the JL, I’ll brief you later.”

Damian nodded, understanding how vital being properly informed was.

If Danny fled into the Infinite Realms not even the JLD could help them reach out again. It broke Bruce’s heart, knowing that Daniel was Phantom, knowing that he was in fact still fully dead, knowing what he’d been put through when he should be resting in peace. It broke his heart even more knowing he was going to have to expose Damian to all that, Harley had beaten it into his head that just because the children had seen some horrible stuff that it didn’t make them immune to being exposed again.

“Here,” Dick called as he sauntered over, holding a bag out to Damian, “we got you some things too.”

“Thank you, Richard,” Damian said politely, though how eagerly he peered into the bag to see what he’d been given belied how happy he was.

“And for you as well,” Dick said with a smile, offering a smaller bag to Bruce.

“Thank you,” Bruce said genuinely. “Alright, let’s get going before they decide we’re all a bunch of no-shows.” As they walked Bruce leaned in close and said, “Change in parameters, observation only,” softly, and as an extra precaution he said it in French. The others all nodded their agreement.

After flashing their backstage passes, the group was led to the green room, where Bruce decided to take up shop just outside the door, Damian in his shadow. When security gave him a questioning look Bruce just gave one of his patented Brucie smiles, “Oh I’m just the designated driver and wallet for the kids.”

The security snorted in amusement, then went on to ignore him. Bruce sent a few texts off to Babs explaining everything and requesting she set up an abridged version of Phantom’s file for him to present to the others once they get back to the hotel, along with anything else from Amity Park that seemed relevant. Bruce could delude himself it was all a coincidence and the Phantom of Amity Park wasn’t Phantom Dwarfstar.

“Where my Parkers at?”

In their line of work there were no coincidences.

Once that was done he looked in his goodie bag to find the tour’s album, a key chain of Phantom’s face, and an acrylic standee that would be joining the other on his desk at work. He was just browsing Ember’s official site to see if they had a vinyl for Die With a Smile available when he heard newcomers walking down the hallway.

“I told Ember not to do any backstage experiences for this concert,” a feminine voice said in clear frustration.

Bruce looked up and spotted the source, his heart dropped. Walking down the hallway, flanked by two unknown teens, was Jasmine Nightingale, formerly Jasmine Fenton, the daughter of the doctors Fenton who were currently incarcerated for charges of supervillainy. The same Jasmine Nightingale who was mourning a younger brother who she claims her parents murdered, a younger brother who the Fentons had had declared legally dead yet no body had ever turned up. The same Fentons who had captured and tortured the Phantom of Amity Park  and recorded it all ‘in the name of science.’ The recordings where Phantom had cried out for his parents before the doctors had muzzled him.

Bruce felt like he was going to be sick.

He quickly looked back down at his phone as the trio approached, partially to avoid their attention and partially to quickly add Miss Nightingale  and her younger brother to the requested information for the brief later.

“It shouldn’t take too long, just shake some hands, sign some merch, take a few pictures, then presto done!”

“Unless Ember can get them chanting her name.”

“Danny will smack some sense into her if she does,” Jasmine said confidently.

Bruce nearly fumbled his phone, he had to swallow down the bile rising in this throat.

“Uh, who are you?” The trio had stopped just outside the door, one of them looking up at Bruce warily.

“Hm?” Bruce replied as he looked up from his phone. “Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just waiting on the kids.” He nodded to the green room’s door and smiled brightly. The three teens were looking at him suspiciously, but Bruce feigned ignoring them and went back to texting Babs.

One of the unknown teens, a girl with black hair and purple lipstick, bent over so she could look up at Bruce with a furrowed brow. Bruce hoped she wouldn’t decide he looks suspiciously similar to Daniel, from what little he’d seen Daniel took after him in much the same way Damian did.

“Bruce Wayne?” the girl asked.

Bruce looked up and gave one of his gala smiles, “Oh, it’s rare to be recognized so easily outside of Gotham.”

“Yeah, well, my parents have been desperately trying to get invited to one of your shindigs for years.” The girl rolled her eyes, clearly not sharing her parents’ feelings. “What’re you doing here? I wouldn’t expect a billionaire to come to some small time concert.”

“Oh, you know, one of the kids stumbled on a new artist and became a big fan, so I thought coming to see her in person would be a good family bonding experience.” Bruce surreptitiously handed off his small goody bag to Damian, who was still hidden behind Bruce’s bulk, followed by the faint sound of paper sliding against paper.

The three teens just nodded along, though with the way they were looking up at Bruce they were likely thinking how suspiciously similar he looked to Daniel.

The door to the green room opened and the children started filing out. Dick, as a full fledged member of the Justice League had likely already made the Phantom connection, paled when he spotted Jasmine. He valiantly put on one of his gala worthy smiles.

“Dick,” Bruce greeted quickly, “how did it go?”

“Oh, it was great! I got a few things signed.” Dick held up his own bag, which looked a little overfull compared to the others.

“Well come along, let’s not block the hallway, and we have a reservation to get to.” They didn’t, but it was the sort of thing expected of people at their level of wealth. Bruce ushered Dick along, Damian easily slipping into Dick’s shadow and away from those they couldn’t risk recognizing him, and made a show of counting heads as the rest of the children followed. Bruce smiled and waved to Jasmine and her friends, “It was lovely meeting you, have a good night.”

The brunette girl scoffed, but they made no objections as their group left.

“Danny,” Jasmine called as she headed into the room.

“Jazz!”

Any further conversation was cut by the sound of a door closing.

Truly Bruce was glad they didn’t have a reservation to get to, he was sure he couldn’t stomach any food right now.

🎶💚🖤🎵

Once safely inside their suite at the hotel Dick sighed deeply, “So, Phantom,” he said tiredly, “think it’s just a coincidence?”

“He called the people that already knew him Parkers,” Bruce deadpanned.

Dick sighed again, his shoulders drooping. “Yeah.”

“Should we be worried?” Jason asked with a furrowed brow.

“Remember that big to-do recently about expanding the meta protection acts? The Phantom of Amity Park was why.”

“I’ve already asked Babs to send over all the relevant information,” Bruce cut in. He wanted the degree of separation treating this like a case would give him. From the look Dick was giving him he didn’t agree, but it was this risk Bruce losing his lunch.

Dick sighed, but called Babs and put her on speaker. “Hey, Babs, how we doing this?”

“Everyone grab a screen and settle in, I’ve got a presentation all ready to go, I can just sync your screens with mine.”

Settle everyone did. Jason picked an armchair and Cass settled on one of the arms, leaning half against the back of the chair and half against Jason as she looked down at the tablet he was holding. Bruce chose to sit on the couch, holding up a tablet to share with Damian and Dick, who were squeezed in next to him on one side, and Duke who was squeezed in on the other. Tim sat in his own armchair with his own tablet. Once everyone was settled, Babs took over the screen.

“These are the doctors Jack and Madeline Fenton, residents of Amity Park. They’re currently in jail for reckless public endangerment for punching a hole into a dimension full of hostile beings that, due to the Fentons’ negligence, caused wide spread property damage.”

Duke whistled, “That is some supervillainy.”

“Oh it gets worse,” Babs said darkly, “they should also be in jail for kidnapping and torturing a minor, but due to some legal fuckery because of what the kid is it technically wasn’t illegal at the time.”

There were sounds of outrage and protest from the children, save Dick who already knew what was going on.

“I know. There’s also suspicions they murdered their own son, but without a body or a witness there’s no way to prove it.”

“We should probably show them Phantom first,” Bruce suggested.

“I know, I was getting to that.” Babs sighed deeply, “Alright, so the kid in question went by the name Phantom, and unfortunately the only photos I have available of him were from when he was captured.” A photo of Phantom strapped down to a table and muzzled came on the screen. The main features Bruce tried to focus on were the white hair, the bright green eyes, and the white stylized D emblazoned on his black suit.

Dick had pulled out his phone, “I’m sending you something.”

“Oh? What are you… oh! Well that’s a sweet picture.” A moment later a picture of Dick standing between Phantom and Ember, all three smiling brightly at the camera, appeared. “Mind if I update his file with this? Because I gotta say, I love the costume change, and the fact he’s not in the middle of a panic attack.”

“I would appreciate it,” Bruce said. That earned a few odd looks, but they hadn’t seen the other photos, or videos. All that green, all that screaming.

“From what we can gather Phantom was rescued and fled to the Infinite Realms, that’s what’s on the other side of the Fentons’ portal, by an unknown party. What was going on in Amity Park was brought to the League’s attention, the messed up government organization was cleaned up, the laws were changed, the portal safely closed, and justice was served.”

“And these Infinite Realms,” Damian asked, “are another dimension?”

“Yes, or rather it’s every other dimension from what I understand. Everything but the actual afterlife, some of it’s closer to the physical world and that’s where things like underhill and crossing the veil happen, other parts are so far out of sync with us it really is a different dimension. The Fentons called it the ‘Ghost Zone’ because they believed it’s where ghosts uh… existed. And the part they connected to did happen to have a lot of ghosts, but it had other beings too.”

“And that is where Daniel was? He was existing as a ghost near that part of the Infinite Realms and crossed back to this side when the Fentons opened the portal?”

“I’m sure that’s what he wants the world to think of Phantom, but as Bruce brought to my attention we now have a trail. It’s time to look at the Fenton children. There are two, the first is Jasmine Fenton, now Jasmine Nightingale.” A photo of the young woman along with her profile, including age and date of birth, popped up on their screens. “The other is her younger brother, the one supposedly murdered by their parents, Daniel Fention.” A profile for the boy popped up, though no photo was available.

Damian leaned in close to read the profile. “The birthdate is wrong.”

“Wrong how?” Babs asked.

“It’s the right year, but the month and day are reversed.”

Babs hummed, “It’s possible when asked his birthdate he wrote it down European style and then simply went with it.”

“I don’t see how this can be our Daniel,” Damian muttered. Bruce was so proud of him for being inclusive. “We know who his parents…” Damian trailed off, likely having just gotten to the part of the profile that listed Daniel’s adoption date.

“I already checked, the date he was found matches up with the date he went missing.”

“I don’t understand,” Dick said sadly, “if he was revived, why is he a ghost now?”

“We don’t know,” Babs said tiredly. “The earliest recorded appearance of Phantom was a little over a month after the portal opened, but Daniel’s timeline continues on uninterrupted. He keeps going to school, he still used socmed, there’s not even a hospital visit. The only clue we get is a sudden and drastic drop in his grades while teacher complaints about tardiness, skipping classes, and sleeping in class skyrocket.”

“All signs of an unsupported teen vigilante,” Tim pointed out.

“Man, even the kids you don’t raise end up going into cape work,” Jason griped.

“I would like to point out that both Stephanie and Duke were already vigilantes before meeting me, and also that Cass and Damian were already exceptional martial artists,” Bruce defended. Cass and Damian preened at the praise, while Duke looked completely unashamed.

“Maybe Daniel didn’t die?” Dick suggested. “Maybe he learned magic?”

“Maybe he transformed into a fae and was lucky enough to learn glamours fast,” Tim suggested.

“Maybe we should stop speculating and actually ask him?” Duke said sarcastically.

“We are not even sure Daniel Fenton is our Daniel,” Damian insisted.

“Unfortunately for you, we now have a Fenton family photo.” The screen changed yet again, this time to show the Fentons all gathered together. Jasmine and Daniel were much younger than they were now, Jasmine looking to be a young teen while Daniel looked to be not quite in his teens yet. Bruce zoomed in so they could see Daniel’s face more clearly.

“What a sweet baby,” Cass cooed.

“Damn, he and the demon brat could be twins,” Jason said with a laugh.

Damian didn’t respond, he simply looked sad.

“All this to say,” Bruce said to fill the silence, “that Daniel has abilities and a refuge that are currently beyond our understanding, and has already proven himself a flight risk. But he chose to come back to Earth despite the danger he believes himself to be in, so the best thing we can do is find a way to reach out to him that’s more passive, let him feel safe and in control.”

“Cornering him at a show twice would probably have him give up on Ember altogether,” Duke said sagely.

“We have time to plan,” Dick added. “We can keep track of him while the tour goes at least. Likely they’ll all go home to the Infinite Realms when it’s over, but so long as Ember keeps touring and he stays in her band we can keep an eye on him.”

“Fanmail,” Tim suggested.

Damian nodded, “Would a letter be sufficiently passive?” Damian turned to look up at Bruce.

“Hm… perhaps not a direct letter.” Bruce took a moment to consider the matter. “A letter within a letter. Address a letter to Ember asking her to pass on a sealed letter to Daniel if he happens to contact her again.”

“Make sure not to mention Phantom or her band at all,” Dick reminded Damian.

“Skittish feral cat,” Cass agreed solemnly.

“And wait at least until the next concert, too soon and Daniel will think he's been made.”

“Of course, Drake, I am not so foolish as to make such a blunder when being delicate.”

🎶💚🖤🎵

“Fanmail,” Ember said in an annoyed voice.

Danny looked up in confusion, “Morty already doled out the fanmail?” He had a sizable pile, seemed his identity was an open secret at Casper High now and a lot of them were trying to set up being penpals, talking about the good old times of hanging out with Danny. He was currently pointedly ignoring those.

“Well your creepy brother sent me a letter to pass onto you.” She dropped a couple papers on Danny and stormed off.

Oh no, she's jealous of Danny getting more attention than her. He keeps trying to redirect all the attention, it's not Danny's fault he's so charismatic and marketable (Motry's words). Danny sighed and picked the letter up.

Dear Miss Ember McLain,

Danny snorted, how polite and formal.

I hope you and your band are doing well. Please forgive me for inadvertently causing Daniel to flee, it was not my intention. In that vein, I am imposing on your good nature once more to ask that should Daniel ever contact you again to please pass along the enclosed sealed envelope. It is my hope to alleviate some of the very justified fears he has, and hopefully he will be willing to return to his previous musical career as well. Yours sincerely, Damian Wayne

Danny squinted and read the letter again. He doubted Damian wasn’t keeping track of Ember (and thus knows “Frosty” has already been replaced), so he must be pretending not to know. Was it to give Ember a false sense of security? Because surely he knew it wouldn’t comfort Danny at all. Danny frowned (it wasn’t a pout) and read over the letter again, picking it apart for any more hints. He knew it was useless, Damian viewed Ember as a civilian, someone oblivious who it would be easy to manipulate with a few careful words. And well… he wasn’t entirely wrong.

With a deep sigh, Danny tore open the still sealed envelope and began reading.

أخي You were mourned

Danny dropped the letter as if it had bit him, the first phrase burning in his mind. He was mourned? He was mourned?! Giggles bubbled up from Danny’s throat, who would have mourned him? Their severe, distant mother? Their uncaring tutors? Grandfather?! Or perhaps the too serious little boy who only ever saw Danny as competition.

Ancients, he knew the rest of his day was wrecked. He picked up his phone and sent a quick group message telling everyone his brother had sent “Frosty” a letter through Ember and he probably wouldn’t be hanging out tonight. Then he picked the letter back up and started reading.

The letter was about how when he was 10 Damian was introduced to their father, Bruce Wayne, and had lived with him since, even after Mother tried to bring him back into the League. Damian went on to assure Danny that their father is the great man Mother used to tell them stories of when they were children, that they have many rambunctious siblings and a new grandfather who all love Damian very much and already love Danny even though they haven’t met him yet. He ended the letter with a list of ways to contact Damian or their father: phone numbers, e-mails, even a couple snail mail addresses. Damian even included a drawing after signing his name: a dismembered demon.

The head was fully separated from the body by a large margin, most of the empty space filled with blood drops. The head also sported a dagger half buried in the top and large, dark Xs for the eyes. It was very clear Damian was trying to convey their Grandfather had died, likely been killed. Danny didn’t believe it, there was no way he wouldn’t come back in some form or another, his death hardly mattered.

The demon’s body was not bleeding, but it was divided into several pieces. The cuts were clean and mostly straight, only a few zigzags here and there. Danny took that to mean in Grandfather’s absence the Demon had splintered. The League was in pieces, each run by a different person. The only acceptable heirs either in America and refusing to take up the mantle or dead. (Technically Danny was both, but they didn’t know that.)

Danny looked back up at the list of ways to contact his birth family. It felt like a trap. A tempting trap, with the promise of not being found by the League as bait. But the anonymity felt safer, they couldn’t hunt him down if they didn’t even know he was alive (sorta) to even hunt, let alone where to look even if they did suspect.

Was Damian still in contact with Mother? Had he told her about Danny’s revival like he’d told his father’s side of the family? Hah! Family! Danny wasn’t even sure he wanted to give it another chance. They say third time’s the charm, but he couldn’t take that kind of betrayal again.

Danny folded up the letter and tucked it away.

🎶💚🖤🎵

Danny was staring at the letter with blank eyes. Again.

“Dipstick! It’s been three days!”

“I don’t know what to do, Ember,” Danny whined.

“Then call up your brain trust and ask them,” Ember said with a huff.

“I guess,” Danny conceded. He stayed in his spot, hunched over with his chin resting on a table, the letter propped up in front of him. He probably had all the contact information completely memorized by this point.

Ember sat down next to him and patted him on the shoulder. “I think you’re overthinking things.”

“If I do get in contact with him he’ll know I’m still in contact with you, and all that effort to convince him to leave you alone will have been for nothing.”

“Yeah,” Ember agreed, “but wouldn’t it be worth it? To have someplace in the physical realm to go to between tours? A home? A family?”

“That’s Jazz,” Danny said firmly. It was almost his 18th birthday, after that they were going to revive his legal identity and change his name to match Jazz and live with her between tours. Danny was already funneling some of his earnings to her to help get things set up. He felt bad she’d dropped out of college and lost her scholarships just so she could brow beat the JL into finally helping. She was going back to school again, new scholarships and everything, even if they weren’t as good as the old ones.

“You can’t pin your entire attachment to the mortal plane on one person,” Ember said with some exasperation.

“Sam, Tucker, Val, and even Dani since she likes exploring on this side of the portal.”

“Fine whatever. Just make a decision and stick with it, stop sitting here with your wheels spinning and getting nowhere. Call your brain trust already. But do all that later, we’ve got practice right now.” Ember ruffled his hair as she stood back up. Danny sighed, but also got up. He collected his letter before following Ember to go join the others.

That evening Danny did call up his friends and sisters. He’d already explained to them as much as he’d explained to Ember about the whole assassin cult thing, still careful to not give any specifics. For Jazz and Tucker it gave a lot of context to how he’d acted when he first met them. He had somewhat been reined in by the time he met Sam and Val, and obviously he was fully who he is now by the time Dani was born.

“Are you finally ready to tell us about this letter, little brother?” Jazz asked gently.

“I… yeah. Sorry for procrastinating.”

“It’s a lot,” Jazz said firmly. “This is a big deal and could be a huge change for you, I understand you needed time to process all of that first.”

“So, what’d he write?” Dani asked eagerly.

“He said he’s been out of the cult since he was ten-”

“Just a year after you,” Tucker cut in excitedly.

“I… yeah, it is. I don’t think he integrated the same way I did though, he seems very formal.”

“And has access to trackers,” Val added.

“And has access to trackers,” Danny agreed. “But it turns out he’s been living with our father ever since, he gave me a bunch of contact information and says that side of the family wants to meet me.”

“And do you want to?” Jazz asked, voice oh so gentle.

“I… I don’t know,” Danny finally admitted. “He was six the last time I saw him, he’s fifteen now, I don’t know him anymore. He probably barely remembers me, and I was a completely different person back then and… I don’t know. He says he’s out of the cult and has nothing to do with them, but there has to be a connection there somehow or how else would our parents have met? And if I do contact him do I tell them about being Phantom? I’d have to, right?”

“Breathe, baby brother,” Jazz said firmly.

Danny sucked in a deep breath.

“That is a lot, it’s understandable you’d be overwhelmed,” Jazz reassured. “So let’s just take a minute to breathe, alright? Damian gave you the power to decide, you can take all the time in the world to think about it.”

“Until Damian gets impatient and breaks into the bus again,” Danny said snidely.

“Does he even know you got the letter yet?” Val asked.

“No,” Danny said, then took another breath. “He shouldn’t, anyway.”

“So let’s take a minute do a little mindful breathing.” Jazz started loudly exaggerating her breathing, Danny followed along.

“What if I want to meet them?” Dani asked before things could get back on track.

“They don’t even know about you!” Danny said, horrified.

“Yeah, but I’m their family too, right? So who’s our real dad?”

Danny took a deep breath, he’d looked up his father’s name and knew what everyone’s reactions would be. “Bruce Wayne.”

There were a couple sharp breaths sucked in, but rather than the explosion of surprise he expected there was only silence.

“Uh… guys?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Dani said, bored.

“You might already be made,” Sam said carefully.

“What?” Danny asked.

“The first concert, the debut, the VIPs that evening,” Sam seemed to be scrambling verbally a little to give Danny all the context.

“Mr. Wayne was outside the green room, he said one of his kids was a fan and they went to the concert as a family thing,” Jazz filled in.

“The group of implausibly muscular people?” Danny asked faintly. He remembered it because they seemed more interested in him than Ember despite it being his literal debut and them not being from Amity Park. They’d had him sign so much stuff! Ember too, of course, but if that was just a cover…

Danny groaned, “That means they know I got the letter and all that work to convince them I’m not in contact with Ember was for nothing.”

“Sorry dude,” Tucker said with a chuckle.

“Wait,” Dani suddenly yelled, “the guy’s super rich?!”

“His money could run circles around Vlad’s money,” Sam said with an audible eye roll.

Danny just can’t escape the wealth, no matter how hard he tries.

“I think this is a good sign,” Jazz said cheerfully. “Look how respectful they’re being, giving you the choice of contact or not! He’s not barging in after shows or breaking into your hotel rooms, and he’s given you so much information.”

“You know,” Dani said in that special way that meant she was about to be an absolute menace, “Gotham’s not that far. I can go do some spying if you like. Invisibly do some eavesdropping for you.”

Danny wasn’t sure if he should let her, something about Gotham itched at the back of his brain.

“Oh!” Sam said eagerly, “See if you can get Poison Ivy’s signature for me while you’re there.”

“And maybe Batman’s too,” Tucker said with a laugh.

What?!

“He was very polite the few times I met him,” Jazz added.

“No wait, hold up!” Danny said, suddenly connecting a bunch of dots. “Holy shit! That’s what was bugging me, Batman’s from Gotham! Oh ancients!”

“Yeah,” Val said slowly. “Superman is from Metropolis, Wonder Woman is from Themyscira, and Batman is from Gotham.”

“Son of the bat!” Danny yelled in much the same way one might say ‘son of a bitch.’

“Huh?” A few of them asked.

“Me! I’m son of the bat, it’s one of the things we were called as kids!” That and son of the demon and a few other things.

“WHAT?!” Everyone cried.

“Bruce Wayne is Batman?!” Val asked in shock.

“The himbo?!” Sam sounded offended.

“I thought he just funded Batman,” Tucker murmured.

“So he’s one of the good guys, right?” Dani was asking with a cackle. 

“Oh my god, I’ve been made! I’ve been made three times over at least!” Danny hopped up and started pacing his hotel room. “There’s no way the man Grandfather called the Detective hasn’t already figured out my entire life story and made all the connections!”

“In that case,” Val said far too reasonably, “they know you’re not just still in contact with Ember but touring with her too. No point in avoiding them as some kind of way to protect her.”

“Batman did a lot of work to help expand meta rights to include you,” Jazz added. “He was very polite and professional the few times I met him.”

“He didn’t know yet,” Danny moaned. “About me being your brother. Or rather about having another son at all yet, Damian said so in his letter. He didn’t know about Damian until Mother dropped him off, apparently.”

“Well!” Jazz said, she certainly seemed to have opinions about that she’d keep to herself. For now.

“So,” Tucker said, drawing the sound out, “now what?”

“I still don’t know,” Danny said in frustration. “It doesn’t change the fact I still haven’t seen Damian since he was six, not really.”

“So that means take getting to know him again slowly,” Jazz said in her gentle voice. “You can start with just texting, don’t even worry about an in person meeting until after this tour’s over.”

“And don’t say you’re still scared of your mom’s cult,” Val said sternly. “Your dad’s Batman! If anyone can protect you from them it’s him.”

“You did say your little brother’s been out for years,” Sam backed her up.

“He even said Mother tried to bring him back and he refused,” Danny confirmed tiredly.

“There you go,” Val said smugly.

“Uh guys? We might have a problem,” Tucker said nervously. “Little Dani hung up.”

“What?” Several of them asked.

“Looks like it was a couple minutes ago, dropped right out of the call.”

“Oh no,” Danny said in horror, “she probably went to Gotham. I’ve gotta go.” He hung up and transformed, diving through the hotel’s roof without another thought.

🎶💚🖤🎵

Batman was in the middle of his patrol when a figured popped out of thin air in front of him. A girl, around Robin’s age if he had to guess, glowing white hair held back in a ponytail, black and white suit, and when she had stopped being bent over while breathing heavily: glowing green eyes and an all too familiar stylized D on her chest.

“You are hard to find!” The girl crowed.

Batman relaxed his defensive stance, though he was staying alert. “And you are?”

“Dani with an I. Is it true? Danny thinks you’re his dad. The other Danny, with a Y.”

Batman tapped the comm in his ear, “Robin.” He waited for the comm to be channeled to the correct line, “Do you have a sister you never told us about?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Robin replied warily.

“Sister?” Orphan asked hopefully. As expected, the question had caught Oracle’s attention, and now all the Gotham vigilantes were on the one channel.

“I mean, kinda?” Dani said, unable to hear the chaos erupting over comms. She drifted in the air slightly, “He calls me that now, and we’re working on getting me a legal ID and all that. But technically I’m his clone.”

“His clone,” Batman repeated, causing the chaos to abruptly cut off. Robin scoffed, but otherwise didn’t reply. Batman had known Phantom had been involved in cape work before his capture and escape, so a clone shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it was.

“Yeah, so anyway… is it true?”

Batman simply nodded.

Dani with an I grinned and did a fist bump, “Awesome! He’s being such a nervous Nelly about the whole thing, has himself all twisted up in knots. But like, you’re one of the good guys! So now I can rub it in his face that I got to meet you first.”

Far too trusting, but also younger than she looks, and that’s very young to begin with. Batman fully relaxed, or as much as he ever let himself relax while in the cowl, and held a hand up to Dani. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She floated a little lower to be even with him and eagerly took his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you too, pops!”

Bruce couldn’t help smiling at that, it was quite refreshing having a child who’s so friendly and open.

Dani was hit by a blur of glowing black and white. She and her attacker hit the roof Batman was standing on, bounced up into the air, and stayed there. Batman stood tensed, having just stopped himself from throwing the batarang in his hand when he recognized the attacker.

“Dani! I can’t believe you!” Phantom was wrestling with Dani, maneuvering her into a headlock.

“You were dragging your feet, we all know this is how things were going to end up!”

“Noogies for ten thousand years!”

“Nooooo!” Dani shrieked as Phantom administered the threatened noogie.

Batman smiled to himself as he tucked the batarang away. Not once has he ever encountered a clone made for ethical, upstanding reasons, and yet here Phantom was antagonizing his clone as if she were a beloved little sister. They’ll get along well with the others. He stepped forward and cleared his throat to get the children’s attention. “Hello, Phantom.”

Phantom looked up and visibly paled, eyes huge. He winked out of the visible spectrum, then winked back in. Phantom looked down at Dani with a glare, then they winked out and back in again.

“Will you quit that,” Phantom hissed.

“No, just say hello!”

“It doesn’t have to be more than hello,” Batman said gently. “I’m just glad I finally get to meet you.” He held a hand up to Phantom.

Phantom hesitated for a moment, then finally let Dani go so he could give Batman a brief handshake. “Hello, sir.”

“You got the letter?” It was a useless question, they both knew he did, but it was the easiest opening.

“Yeah, I got the letter.”

Batman nodded, “It would be nice to hear from you then.” When Phantom looked confused Batman decided to elaborate, “There are a lot of us, we can be quite overwhelming. I don’t expect you to just come home with us tonight, especially when you have a prior commitment.”

“He means Ember,” Dani loudly whispered.

“I know that,” Phantom groused.

Batman heard the sound of tires squealing, followed by a grapple being used. Likely they wouldn’t be alone for much longer. “The plan was always to get to know you slowly, we’re all strangers right now, it’ll take time for that to change.”

“Jazz said the same thing,” Phantom grumbled.

“And Jazz was right,” Dani said with a grin.

“I have a feeling your older sister has an annoying habit of always being right,” Batman said with a smirk.

“Akhi!”

Phantom’s head snapped over to where Robin’s voice had come from, darting up into air and dragging Dani with him, shoving her behind him. He relaxed a little when he realized it was Robin running up to them.

“Akhi, please don’t run again!” Robin slowed as he approached, likely soothed by the fact that Phantom lowered a little, though still out of reach. “I did not expect you to come to Gotham so soon.”

“That’s my fault,” Dani chirped as she leaned out from behind Phantom. “He only made the Gotham-Bat connection just now, it was so funny!”

Phantom’s face started glowing green.

“I had to come meet you for myself, it just had the bonus of making Mr. Anxiety finally stop talking himself in circles.”

Phantom groaned in embarrassment, “Dani!”

“What? It’s true!”

“His anxiety is understandable after what he’s been through,” Batman said firmly. Then he looked Phantom in the eyes, “And none of it was your fault.”

Phantom’s face flushed green once more as he averted his gaze.

“So, now what?” Dani asked.

“If you have your phones on you we can exchange information,” Batman offered.

Phantom scoffed, “I already have it all.”

“In your phone?” Robin asked.

Phantom’s face glowed even brighter. “Fine, here.” He pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and tossed it to Robin.

Dani darted around her brother and zoomed right up to Batman, her phone already held out for him. He quickly put in Bruce’s private contact information and sent himself a text so he would have hers. When that was done, he handed Dani her phone back.

There was an awkward silence after that, no one quite sure what to say.

“Well this has been nice and all,” Phantom started, “but I’m sure you’ve got important crime fighting stuff to get back to.”

Dani snorted a laugh.

“It was good meeting you both,” Batman said with a nod.

Phantom nodded back. Then he grabbed his little sister and they both vanished into thin air.

“He’ll be in contact,” Batman told Robin, trying to be comforting.

“Of course he will. And as he said, I have patrol to get back to.” Robin turned and stalked to the edge of the roof, where he leapt off.

“Two for one,” Orphan said with a giggle over comms.

“It certainly seems that way,” Batman growled. Inside he was smiling, Dani had certainly given them a better chance to get to know Danny, and he was looking forward to getting to know his new daughter as well.

“Are you going to inform Mother she now has a daughter?” Robin asked.

“Perhaps… in about ten years or so.”

That's Not How You Keep a Low Profile

Available on AO3

DPxDC

Danny joins Ember's backup band and goes with them on tour, he didn't take into account that he was in hiding from several groups and organizations chasing after him for various reasons. Who knew Ember would get popular enough to be noticed by one of them?

🎵🎸🎶

Damian entered the classroom to find Skylar and a couple of her friends standing off to the side, clustered around one girl holding a phone that was playing loud rock-and-roll music. Damian set his bag down at his desk, then went to go join them. “Good morning, Skylar.”

“Damian, hi!” Skylar greeted cheerfully, then moved so Damian could join their group. He obligingly moved in so he could also peer down at the video playing on the girl’s phone. “It’s this new artist who’s been getting popular recently, Ember McLain. She’s doing a tour right now and is going to be pretty close to us, just over in Pennsylvania.”

Damian studied the vocal artist, a young woman dressed in mostly black with a few silver accents, bright blue hair, and what he believed Brown had called “corpse paint” make up. Though from the way her hair seemed to almost defy gravity and the blue skin tone of her back up musicians perhaps she was a meta or alien like them. The exception was a baseline human young man dressed in a similar style to McLain with dark hair and a regular skin tone, playing back up guitar and doing back up vocals.

Damian frowned, something about the back up vocalist was familiar.

The song wound down, the back up vocalist abandoned his stand mic to move to front stage next to McLain while swinging his guitar behind himself. The keyboardist picked up a virulently pink guitar and took the vocalist's place. Damian pointed at the phone, “Who is he?”

“That’s Frosty McGee, usually he’s the back up vocalist but they have a duet.”

Damian scrunched up his nose, but chose not to comment on the poorly chosen stage name. The camera zoomed in, finally giving him a clear view of the older teen’s face as he opened his mouth and started singing.

Damian’s whole body went cold.

It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t. He’d watched his older brother die with his own eyes, lowered into the Lazarus Pit never to rise. And surely if he did somehow survive he wouldn’t be singing for some rock-and-roll band in America, he would’ve found some way to return home. Surely.

“This…” Damian tried not to let his face twist as he spoke the name, “Frosty McGee is a stage name, correct? What’s his real name?”

Skylar looked thoughtful as she pulled out her own phone and began typing away. “I don’t think their real names are public,” She said slowly as she navigated to the artist’s website. While she went to the “about” page, Damian pulled out his own phone to follow Skylar to the website. “Yeah, all they have listed are everyone’s stage names.”

Damian just nodded, already looking up their tour information.

🎵🎸🎶

Danny collapsed into a chair in the green room, exhausted after spending half the night tapping into his ghostly wail while in human form. Ember and the zombies looked fresh as ever, the consequence of Danny being the only one with a heart beat in the band.

“Your stamina’s getting better,” Ember offered with a smirk.

Danny resisted flipping her off, he knew she really meant it, even if she seemed to like getting under his skin a little too much.

“Look alive,” Mortimer, their manager, said as he walked into the room. “Someone actually bought a VIP ticket with the backstage experience, so you’re going to meet a fan.”

Ember perked up, already excited. “Just one? Or a whole group?”

“Just the one, so be ready to give him the full experience.” Morty left then, likely to go walk their fan back.

“Try to look a little tired at least, you are supposed to be a normal human,” Danny groused as he sat up and went about mopping up what sweat he could without smearing his makeup.

Ember scoffed, “No, we’re metas, Danny. You’re the one who’s supposed to be normal.”

“Or aliens,” Gunther said with his craggly voice. “We never did decide which one we like better.”

“You can be aliens, I’m a meta,” Ember declared proudly.

There was a knock on the door. Everyone straighted and turned to face the door, a bright smile spread on Ember’s face.

Danny’s own soft smile fell as he watched their fan enter and look around the room. A boy, the same age Danny was when he stepped into the portal, with an all too familiar face. His sharp green eyes zeroed in on Danny. There was a long tense moment where everyone simply stood, Damian just inside the door and Danny just in front of his chair (when had he stood?), staring at each other.

“Akhi?”

In a panic Danny turned partly invisible, “It’s been eight years Damian, let me go.” He finished slipping from human sight, then intangibly slipped right out of the room. He raced invisibly through hallways and walls until he got to their tour bus. Technically as ghosts they didn’t need it, but 1) the living expected that sort of thing and 2) Ember insisted on doing the whole experience. (He knew it was really because as someone who wasn’t entirely ghost Danny did actually need someplace to sleep and eat and shower and all that, that Ember actually got the tour bus for him.)

Once inside Danny let his powers fade as he curled up on a seat in the back, arms wrapped around his legs and face buried in his knees. Stupid! Why did he say that? Why did he run?!

He knew why.

“Baby-pop?” Ember called faintly, phasing into the van.

“Here,” Danny called miserably.

“Okay, good. We're all here just open a portal and we'll skedaddle.”

Danny sniffled but nodded. He looked up to find everyone was already gathered in the bus, all staring at him with worried faces. “Right, yeah, okay, I can do this.”

Rock got behind the wheel while everyone else settled in. Danny had to leave the bus, having been taught by Wulf on making portals. Not every ghost could learn, but Danny was predisposed to it because… well, it was pretty obvious why.

Danny clawed open a portal to Ember's lair, grabbing an edge and pulling it wide enough to fit the whole bus. The bus trundled through and Danny quickly followed, closing the portal behind him.

Almost on reflex he transformed once fully in the Realms, taking a deep (but completely unnecessary) breath of that crisp, fresh ectoplasm. The others filed off the bus, Ember put a gentle hand on Danny’s arm. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Good.” Ember crossed her arms and gave Danny a Look™, “Care to explain what just happened?”

Danny groaned, he knew this was coming. “I’d rather not.”

Everyone frowned at him.

Danny scrubbed at his eyes briefly. “I haven’t told anyone, not even Sam and Tucker, not even Jazz!”

“So… do you want to conference call them in and explain it to everyone at once? Or is this a dead men tell no tales kind of situation?”

Danny gave Ember his own Look™. “I know what gossips ghosts are.”

“Hey,” Gunther cut in, “if you want us to not tell anyone we won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

Danny groaned as he thought it over, but he kinda did owe them an explanation. “Alright, but can we go somewhere a little more comfortable first? I’m still exhausted.” He wasn’t, not physically. But ghosts aren’t physical so being emotionally exhausted was basically the same thing.

“Yeah, let’s go hit my lounge.” Ember slung an arm over Danny’s shoulder and led him away from the bus.

Danny smiled, feeling loved and cared for. It was still a little weird sometimes, realizing how much his former rogues actually liked him despite how at odds they’d been at the start. They’d basically been coddling him ever since…

Once in the lounge everyone picked a plush, overstuffed piece of furniture to literally lounge on. Ember had no shoes off rule, it felt weird to just put his boots up on a couch, so Danny chose to slouch comfortably into the back while his legs stretched out to the floor. Once everyone was settled, they all looked over at Danny expectantly.

How to even start? “So uh… I’m adopted.”

“Wait, how does Jazz not know you’re adopted?” Ember exclaimed.

“Oh no, that’s the part everyone actually knows, or at least everyone I knew back then. It’s everything before that that no one knows.”

“That kid is from your bio fam,” Steve wheezed. Everyone looked at him, then back to Danny.

He shrugged and looked down at his gloves, “Yeah. That’s Damian, my little brother.”

“And you just ran from him because?” Ember prompted.

Gunther snorted, “Didn’t just run, he literally ghosted the kid.”

Danny couldn’t help blushing, “I panicked, okay?”

Everyone relaxed at that, smiling brightly at Danny’s embarrassment. Morty pulled out his phone and started tapping away, “Should I get in contact with him about a redo then?”

“No!” Danny yelped, his voice cracking like it hadn’t in almost two months. He flushed harder, Ember was going to tease him about that later. “No, no absolutely not. Honestly if he’s found me then that means Mother and Grandfather know I’m still alive after all. I think… I think I’m going to have to stay in the Realms.”

“What?!”

“Baby-pop, no!”

“You can’t!”

Danny looked down at his gloves, picking at the seems. “Look, no adoption starts for happy reasons, every adoption comes from a tragic backstory. My birth family is dangerous, even to us. No, listen,” Danny said harshly when the others scoffed. “They’re dangerous, they’ll hurt you trying to get me back.”

Ember’s lips thinned, “Are they ghost hunters like the-” she cut herself off, her face getting all the grimmer.

Danny shook his head, “No, magic users. They won’t have to know what you are to use magic artifacts against you. After all, blood blossoms were believed to be harmful to witches, it was just coincidence they were harmful to ghosts.”

“Okay,” Ember said, looking over to the rest of the band. “So Frosty McGee is quitting, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still hang around us. You can be a roadie,” Ember cut in when Danny tried to protest. “Wear one of those medical masks when you’re working, never be on stage or in front of a camera, that’s fine. But we still need you, Danny. You’re the one who’s been dead the shortest, you know how things work now. You’re the one that suggested I get a manager and start doing things legit instead of just overshadowing my way into gigs.”

“We didn’t even know metas were a thing until you told us,” Gunther added.

“I wasn’t aware of how much technology had advanced,” Morty added. “If it weren’t for you we would have a completely outdated website and no youtube channel. We’d probably only have half the merch we currently have available.”

“Don't forget the portals,” Steve wheezed.

“Yeah! Without portals we couldn’t make regular pit stops back to the Realms to recharge. So we need you, Danny. Frosty can quit, but don’t let Danny abandon us.”

Danny sighed, but he couldn’t help smiling at his friends, even if his bottom lip was wobbling dangerously. “Alright, I get it. I’ll stay, a roadie you say?”

“It’ll make us loading and unloading the bus more believable if we have hired muscle pretending to do it.” Morty smirked down at his phone.

“Ugh, gonna make me earn my keep.”

🎵🎸🎶

Damian stood in the green room in shock, unsure what had just happened. His mouth felt dry, his skin felt cold, every hair on his body was standing on end, his hands felt clammy. Daniel had just vanished right before his eyes. He turned to ask someone, anyone, what had just happened.

The room was empty.

Damian looked around, the door behind him was still closed, there were no other exits, he was the only living being in the room.

Metas, Damian reminded himself. He was fairly certain McLain and her band members were metas, likely the phrase Daniel had spoken was actually a code phrase for immediate evac. Damian turned and left the room, quickly making his way further into the building and out to the back. There was an employee parking garage just behind the venue that surely the band’s equipment vehicles were kept in during the show.

The garage was not completely empty, but it was completely bereft of trailers, tour buses, or other equipment hauling vehicles. Damian had been too late, they had fled completely. Damian kicked a support pillar in frustration, it didn’t help.

All he knew was his brother lived, and for some reason he chose not to return home, had fled at the mere sight of Damian.

Well, he would have some research to do. But before that, he had to return home before his absence became suspicious, there was only so long his careful web of misdirection would hold.

The next morning he returned to the manor, no one the wiser. Thomas was on his way out and greeted Damian as he entered. “Hey, how was the sleepover?”

“It was an experience,” Damian commented absently.

Thomas laughed at Damian’s response. “I’m glad you had fun.”

He was about to leave when Damian realized this was the perfect opportunity for some information gathering. “One of my peers said something I didn’t understand, I believe it was a meme.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

Most memes followed a format where the exact details could be adjusted to the situation at hand. Considering Daniel had said Damian’s name and the specific number of years he’d been -dead- missing likely he could swap those out for less suspicious details. “It’s been two years Thomas, let me go.”

“Ah, okay so you just claimed to be a ghost or a grief fueled hallucination and that I need to get my shi- uh… stuff. Together. My stuff together. Anyway, usually whoever says that also disappears right after they say it.”

“And is this meme recent?”

Thomas shrugged. “Eh, not really? The concept’s been around for decades at least, even in that format, but I don’t think I’ve seen it used as a reaction until a little bit ago.”

Damian nodded, “Thank you for the clarification.”

“No problem.” Thomas waved and was on his way. Damian went to his room to take care of his overnight bag. A quick check of McLain’s website showed no change, but that was to be expected so soon after they fled. He wondered if the whole tour would be cancelled.

Damian spent the next few days practically haunting McLain’s website (when he wasn’t systematically searching for Daniel’s likeness on public cameras), as well as the website of the tour’s next venue. He even went so far so to create a throw away email, signed it up for McLain’s fan club, and set it to alert him of incoming emails. Thus he was one of the first to find out when the next concert was suddenly cancelled, all tickets refunded. The newsletter that followed informed the fans that, “Sadly Frosty McGee has had to part ways with us due to some matters Frosty wishes to remain private. We wish him and his family well.” It went on to promise that though the next concert was cancelled the rest of the tour would continue as scheduled.

So Daniel had fled.

Damian wasn’t surprised, judging from his reaction Daniel felt his new identity had been compromised. Damian just didn’t understand why. Why Daniel was afraid of him. Why he hadn’t attempted to contact Damian. Why he hadn’t come home.

He had been away from the League and Grandfather’s influence long enough to understand why Daniel would choose not to go back to them, but Damian had been out of the League for five years, did Daniel not know? Had he not heard the news about famous billionaire Bruce Wayne’s youngest and only (known) blood related son?

It didn’t matter, Damian wouldn’t have the answers to any of his questions unless he found Daniel again. Even if he has fled again, Damian really only has the one lead and he would follow it.

In the meantime he had his regular duties to attend to.

🎵🎸🎶

“C'mon, what are you doing just sitting around? It's time for lessons.”

“What?” Danny looked up from where he was slouched in a chair with phone in hand, blinking at Ember.

“Lessons, we still haven't gotten you to sing and play at the same time yet.”

“I… quit… the band?”

“Frosty quit the band, I figure we can use this time to really work on your skills so they're finally up to snuff when we debut Phantom.”

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” Ember huffed and rolled her eyes. “Do you know how many people asked for refunds when we said you quit? I'm not letting any more fans get away.”

Danny just kept blinking, “You know Phantom is in hiding just as much as Danny, right?”

“So you get a costume change and pick a different stage name. Your old duds are outdated anyway.”

“It's what I died in???”

“And you think I died dressed like this?”

Danny wasn't sure how to respond to that.

“So we get you some new duds, pick out a better stage name, and wear makeup while performing. Do you know what contouring can do?”

“It would be suspicious-”

“If we brought you in right now,” Ember cut him off. “Which is why we're aiming for the next tour, which will give us time to get everything set up, including improving your abysmal guitar skills.”

Danny couldn't help smiling, “Yeah. Yeah, okay, let's get to it then.”

🎵🎸🎶

When the time came, Damian knew better than to buy another VIP ticket, they would be on guard for that. This time he decided to find and sneak into their vehicle while the concert was held. There was the risk the band would take a taxi or uber to their hotel instead, but considering the size of the venue and number of tickets sold they would likely attempt to reduce spending, especially since they missed the previous concert. It was a simple matter to pick the lock and sneak onto the bus. He sat waiting in the driver’s seat, making it impossible for them to drive off without him.

McLain stood just outside the bus and opened the door with a scowl on her face, crossing her arms once the door was open. “I could have you arrested for this.”

“I merely have a few questions for you.”

“I should sue you for lost revenue, do you know how much we lost in deposits alone? All those tickets we had to give a full refund on. Not to mention we lost 10% of sales for the rest of the tour, which might not sound like much but when you’re counting pennies that’s a lot!”

“How does Frosty McGee feel about having such loyal fans?”

McLain threw her arms in the air, “I don’t know! We haven’t heard from him since he left. Just took one look at you, packed what he could fit in one bag, and hopped the next bus.”

“And he told you nothing?”

“He told us he was oh for two on families, but you were from the first set of fuck ups and he wasn’t going back.”

That was disheartening to hear. It sounded as if Daniel had found a family to take him in the way Father took in children, but it also sounded as if they were not good to him the way Father is with his children. “Who was his second family?” Damian would make them pay.

“Fuck off, I’m not telling you that. It doesn’t change anything anyway, they know where Frosty is even less than us.”

Damian would like to find out what Daniel had been up to since his disappearance, there was also the chance it would give him a better idea of Daniel’s direction, and certainly he would like to find out what this so-called family did and find a way to get justice for Daniel, but McLain was not wrong that little of that would be useful in tracking Daniel down. He pulled a business card from a pocket and held it out to her. “If he does contact you again.”

“No.” Despite her words she took the card. She took it and set it on fire before dropping it to the asphalt beneath her feet. “In the extremely unlikely event he does get back in contact, I’m not telling you. He clearly wants nothing to do with you, got spooked real bad.” She crossed her arms again and looked away. “I’m worried.”

“Very well.” Damian descended the bus’s stairs, the band moving aside to glare at him as he passed. “You’re not the only one worried for him, it may have been years but he’s still my brother.”

“That’s none of our business.” McLain waved him off as she entered the bus, the manager and the rest of the band following behind her. Damian stood to the side and watched as the bus trundled out of the parking lot, leaving him behind.

🎵🎸🎶

Danny watched Damian until he was out of sight, going so far as to lean invisibly out of the bus. Once the building they were passing came between him and his little brother, he finally moved back inside and quietly scoured the bus.

“Baby-pop?” Ember asked as she watched him methodically search high and low.

Danny put a finger up to his lips, then went back to scouring. One thing Danny had learned over the years is that ghosts have a 6th sense for when they’re being observed, they always know when being watched or listened to. Danny felt that subtle itch now, a scratch at the back of his brain that felt a lot like how on edge he used to be all the time, like the paranoia Grandfather had carefully beaten into him.

The first bug he found was just a tracker, a weirdly spiky oval with a tiny red light to let him know it worked. Well, that he would leave on the bus, their whereabouts would be public anyway, and if only one of the bugs goes out Damian might not come back to plant more. He handed it to Morty with another finger over his lips again, he’d answer questions after he found the other bug.

Eventually he found the listening bug, this one a plain little button shape. It almost looked like an oversized button, the holes for the mic a good disguise. This one he showed to the others before phasing his arm out the car and dropping it in the road. He did one more sweep to make sure there weren’t any others, double checked the weirdly spiky tracker didn’t have any tiny cameras or mics attached, by the time he finally sat down to explain the bus was parked in the hotel's lot.

“The one I dropped outside was a listening device, that one I gave you is a tracker. Since where we’re going on tour is already publicly available I don’t see a point to getting rid of that one too, though we should probably leave it behind when we go to the Realms.”

“Ancients,” Morty murmured, staring down at the tracker nervously.

“Not painting a very reassuring picture,” Gunther agreed.

“Danny,” Ember said softly, “your little brother broke into our bus and hid bugs inside.”

Danny sighed as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Right, this is the part even Jazz doesn’t know about. You need to keep this to yourselves, you can’t even hint you know what I’m about to tell you.”

Everyone nodded.

“Jazz and… the Fentons believe I was raised in a cult before I met them. Honestly, looking back at it now, they’re right. An incredibly violent assassin cult that worships pools of nasty smelling, bubbling, glowing, green water.”

Everyone was staring at him with wide eyes, forgetting to even pretend to breathe.

“The person who both started and runs this cult is my Grandfather, who is over five hundred years old and still alive. Well… mostly, so far as I can tell. I didn’t know about ectoplasm or the Realms back then, so it’s kinda shifted my view of a few things but I can’t really confirm anything without going back there, yanno?”

“That is… a lot,” Morty said quietly.

“Have you ever assassinated anyone?” Gunther asked.

“I was nine when I got out,” Danny deflected.

“Has your brother assassinated anyone?” Rock asked.

Danny shrugged, “I dunno, probably?”

“Ancients,” Morty murmured again.

“So we’re just… keeping this?” Ember plucked the tracker from Morty’s open palm.

“I’m hoping if the tracker keeps working and is accurate he won’t break in and put more devices in here.”

“Lovely.”

“I can see why you were hiding,��� Morty said tiredly.

“And also why I didn’t want to tell anyone,” Danny added. “Ghost hunters may have all the specialized tools to hurt us, but most of the ones we’ve met so far are pretty incompetent.” It had taken Danny letting his guard down for him to be caught in the first place, and by the time he had realized the betrayal it had been too late.

“That explains the hat though,” Steeve wheezed with a laugh.

Danny hadn’t just been wearing one of those paper medical masks, he’d added a brimmed hat to hide his hair and face from cameras. The mask got hot and sweaty sometimes!

“Well this just makes our decision all the better, you'll blend in better if we have other roadies,” Ember said confidently.

Danny perked up. “Oh? Who'd you get? Johnny actually looks human, I could blend in with him. And Kitty would kill it as security.”

“They're waiting in the hotel, you'll see.” Ember winked as she got up and exited the bus. Danny followed, eager to see more familiar faces. 

The faces waiting for him in the hotel were familiar, but not the ones he expected.

“Sam! Tucker!” He ran to them, arms open wide. His best friends eagerly opened their own arms in welcome. It was like coming home and breathing for the first time, being in his best friends’ arms. Only one thing could make it better, but no annoying older sisters were in sight. Danny wasn't going to let that ruin this reunion, though.

Danny leaned back just enough to look Sam and Tucker in the eyes. “What are you doing here? How?!”

“We took our finals early,” Sam supplied. “And since the last week is just classroom parties we took it off.”

“We're gonna spend the whole summer with you!” Tucker grinned so brightly Danny thought he might go blind. Or it might just be the tears brimming.

“You guys!” Danny snuffled and swiped at his eyes.

“Check it out.” Tucker turned around to show the back of his shirt, which had “STAFF” in big white letters across the top, stark against the black shirt, and the tour's info below.

Sam pulled out a black fabric face mask from her pocket and offered it to Danny. He held it up to find it also had “STAFF” in bold white letters across what felt like very breathable fabric. It probably wouldn't stop a sneeze, but it worked great as a disguise.

Danny couldn't help barking out a bright laugh, “You guys going to help me load and unload the band's gear?”

Tucker scoffed, “You wish, I'm Ember's new tech guy.”

“Makeup and costumes,” Sam said in a deadpan before raising her voice slightly. “Which seems pretty sexist.”

“Do you want to help Danny cart gear or not?” Ember asked from where she and the others were watching their reunion.

Sam made a face and sighed, “Makeup and costumes it is.”

“So glad we got that figured out. Hey dipstick, open a portal to my lair. The boys and I are gonna party.”

Danny rolled his eyes but obliged. Honestly it was sweet of them to let him have the room to himself while he and his best friends caught up. Danny was so lucky to have so many good friends.

🎵🎸🎶

After Damian’s lackluster conversation with McLain, dashing any hopes for progress or leads, it was time he told Father and the others the situation. Truly he knew he should have before now, springing Daniel on Father would not be kind, he had simply hoped to have Daniel's whereabouts known so Father could meet him as soon as he was ready. Instead Damian was going to need to request assistance in tracking Daniel down.

It felt like a personal failure.

Still, to tell Father about his living, if missing, son was far preferable than him finding out about Daniel some other way and believing him dead. Damian had just finished setting up his presentation on the large screen TV in the media room when Father and Alfred entered.

“All ready to go, chum?”

“Yes, Father, we’re just waiting on the others now.”

Alfred began setting out drinks and snacks while Father took a seat in one of the armchairs. “While we wait, any chance of a hint on what all this is about?”

Damian was unsure how to answer, the news was not all bad but it seemed Father was under the impression this was some left over school project or something of the like. “It is a very serious matter,” was all Damian ended up saying.

Father smiled, “I’m sure it is, you wouldn’t have gone to all this effort otherwise.”

Damian nodded, glad Father understood.

Soon the others began trickling in. Thomas and Cain, as other residents of the manor, had been invited, Richard of course was also invited as he would be devastated to learn of a new brother any other way, Gordon and (reluctantly) Drake had been invited as Damian would be requesting their help in searching for Daniel, and Todd had been invited purely as curtesy and had, expectedly, turned the invitation down. Damian had considered some of the other Gotham vigilantes, but had ultimately decided against it. There were already enough people crowding into the room.

Once everyone had arrived and found their seats, Damian started his rehearsed presentation. “Thank you all for coming, I appreciate the support. I’m afraid this will not be as light hearted as you may be expecting. In fact, I have some rather distressing news. Father, at Mother’s behest I have been keeping a secret from you.”

Father sat up straighter, his pleased smile falling into a frown.

Damian took a deep breath, “I am not your firstborn, I had an older brother.”

As expected, this announcement caused quite the stir. There were a few shocked gasps, Richard looked devastated, Father had hunched forward to rest his elbows on his knees while staring down at the floor, Alfred moved to stand beside father with a hand on his shoulder.

Damian gave them a moment to digest what he had just told them before moving on. “His name was Daniel, when he was nine and I was six he went on a mission and came back successful but critically injured. Grandfather granted him permission to use one of the smaller Lazarus Pits, but he died en route. Mother put him in the Pit anyway, but the device used to lower him broke and his body never surfaced.”

“Oh Dami,” Richard said softly, a hand held out as if he would pull Damian into a hug.

“I’m telling you all this now because five weeks ago I saw him in a video for a performing artist.” Damian started the visual portion of his presentation, beginning with with a promotional photo of McLain and Daniel, then zoomed in on Daniel’s face.

Everyone’s heads snapped back up, entire focus laser guided to Daniel’s picture.

“He is using the stage name Frosty McGee,” Damian paused to allow the snickers and guffaws he had been expecting, he switched to a different promotional photo, this one including Daniel’s bandmates, “and was performing as a back up guitarist and singer for the artist known as Ember McLain. As they were, and still are, touring I attended a concert under a VIP ticket that included meeting the artists after the show.”

Father frowned, “I didn’t know you went to a concert.”

“It was an information gathering mission for personal reasons, of course you were not informed. I simply wanted to be sure I was not mistaken and McGee was actually Daniel before I burdened you with this distressing secret.”

“Daniel isn’t a burden, none of you are a burden,” Father said tiredly.

“And you confirmed that Frosty is Daniel?” Tim asked rather loudly.

“Yes, Drake. Unfortunately he recognized me as well. He said, and I quote, ‘It’s been eight years Damian, let me go.’ Then he and the other artists all vanished into thin air.”

There were more titters and guffaws. Thomas smiled brightly, “Ah, so that’s why you asked about that meme.”

There were a few frowns, clearly the others already putting puzzle pieces together. “Vanished?” Drake asked.

“I believe the other backup band members may be metas, possibly McLain herself as well. Invisibility is not a common met ability, but it is not unheard of either.”

“Or magic,” Cain offered.

Damian nodded to her, “Magic is also a possibility. Unfortunately,” Damian clicked to the announcement about Frosty McGee leaving the band, “McLain claims Daniel packed his belongings and left without any further explanation, neither she nor her companions have heard from him since.”

“Oh no!” Richard and Gordon both said together.

“I have monitored all publicly available modes of transport out of Midville, Pennsylvania, but I have not been able to track Daniel’s movements.”

“Send me what you got, I’ll see what I can do,” Gordon ordered.

Damian nodded, glad to have her help. “There is one last matter. McLain said Daniel had been adopted, but he was hiding from them as well, I suspect that was why he was using such a ridiculous stage name.”

“Well we’ll just have to look into finding them as well,” Gordon said with a wicked grin.

“They don’t have any shirts in my size,” Richard whined, staring down at his phone.

The others all pulled out their phones and began tapping away.

“Oh,” Thomas said brightly, “he has a credit on one of the songs!”

“Yes, he performed a duet with McLain.”

“Anything for You?” Tim scrunched his nose as his phone.

“Unfortunately,” Damian agreed. “A standard pop love song.” For the duet no less.

“Everything from the tour is listed as limited supplies,” Richard said morosely, swiping further.

“Of course,” Gordon said with a smile, “Frosty left without saying he’d ever come back, they aren’t going to make more merch with a member who’s left.”

“I don’t think they have shirts wide enough to fit any of us,” Thomas said.

Father tapped his phone decisively, then tucked it away while looking quite proud of whatever he’d just done.

Damian sighed deeply, from his very soul. “McLain also has a youtube account, there are a few private videos with behind the scenes footage if you wish to see Daniel in a more casual situation.” Damian regretted going straight to the next concert rather than doing his due diligence on digital information gathering, at the time he had felt rushed by the concert being only a couple days after his discovery.

Drake was already pulling a laptop from some hidden place while Gordon rolled over to his side of the couch, her own phone in hand.

Father stood and came to stand next to Damian, an arm reaching across his back to rest on his far shoulder. “Would you like to talk? About Daniel?”

“I believe I have given you quite a shock, do you not need time to digest the information?”

Father shrugged, “Likely, but we all know if I’m left to my own devices I’m going to just start digging and not come up for air for three days.”

“Yes, anything to prevent you from spiraling, Master Bruce.” Alfred smirked at Father before turning his attention to Damian. “I understand why you did not inform us of Master Daniel sooner, thank you for letting us know now.”

Damian nodded, glad he did not have to explain himself on that part.

“Too easy,” Drake crowed as the TV sputtered to life with one of the private videos.

Daniel and his bandmates were sitting on folding chairs in an otherwise empty space, likely an on stage rehearsal. On screen the recording of Daniel hopped up onto a folding chair, “May I have your attention, please! All rise for the national anthem.” There were titters from behind the camera, but the other three members of the band all obligingly lumbered to their feet. Daniel took a deep breath, then started singing, his voice low and haunting even as he pulled his hand into a sloppy American style salute.

Seasons don't fear the reaper Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain We can be like they are

The other band members were laughing and hooting when Daniel started singing, but quickly fell in to join him on the chorus.

Come on, baby (don't fear the reaper) Baby, take my hand (don't fear the reaper) We'll be able to fly (don't fear the reaper) Baby, I'm your man La, la, la…

Daniel started laughing too hard to keep going. The other band members were laughing right along with him.

“C’mon, dipstick!” McLain’s voice came from behind the camera. “Have you no respect? Finish the national anthem!”

Daniel was laughing so hard he tumbled from the chair, though the short fall didn’t seem to do him any harm. He attempted to sing the second round of “la la la” from the floor, but was incapable through his laughter.

Damian looked up to see Father looking on fondly, smiling gently as the video came to an end. The others were smiling at the video as well, likely glad to see Daniel being happy and enjoying himself. Despite everything he’d been through he still found his own happiness.

And then Damian’s impulsivity had driven him away from the friends and happy life he had made for himself. Damian needed to find Daniel.

🎵🎸🎶

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were just hanging out in the latest hotel room after a long day on the road, just a pit stop between one concert venue and the next. They could just use portals, but for some reason Ember was insisting on the full concert tour experience, including greasy diners and sketchy hotels.

Danny collapsed onto his back on one of the beds, “Ugh, Ember has me practicing singing and playing at the same time by singing Anything for You,” Danny complained.

“Well, it’s your duet,” Tucker pointed out.

“It’s Frosty’s duet, I won’t be singing it when I re-debut. Besides, it’s such tripe, just the required slow song to cool things down before the grand finale.”

“So… re-debut with a new duet?”

“Avoid love songs this time,” Sam ordered from where she was hunched over a notebook at the hotel room���s desk.

“I think Ember has it stuck in her head a slow duet has to be a love song,” Danny scrunched up his nose at the thought.

“There are plenty of duets that aren’t love songs.” Tucker defended.

“Name one,” Danny said with a huff. “No really, I need examples.”

“Easy, there’s… uh…” Tucker blinked and trailed off, suddenly looking kinda scared. “What about… Mungoje- no… um… there’s always You’re the Top uh…” he started visibly sweating. “Anything You Can Do… oh! Somebody I Used to Know.”

“Ooooh! A break up song!” Danny liked that, it would definitely be something more along Ember’s whole image too.

“I’m Not Writing You a Love Song,” Sam offered.

“Not a duet, but a good example of something that feels like a love song without being one.”

“You could also go all in on the devotion, sing about how you’d die for her or something,” Sam continued. “Or sing about loving each other even after dying, real obsessive stuff.”

“Have Ember sing about wrapping my calcified heart in my own poetry?” Danny asked with a cheeky grin.

“Not my fault Mary Shelley invented romance,” Sam said with a sniff.

“I hate to say it, but Sam’s right,” Tucker added. “That would really fit the whole undead thing more.”

“They’re all great ideas, I’ll bring it up to Ember tomorrow when we do lessons.”

“Your re-debut as Phantom is going to be great,” Tucker said with a laugh.

“Yeah… Phantom,” Danny replied morosely.

Sam sighed, “I don’t understand why you won’t even brainstorm on possible name ideas.”

“It’s just!” Danny sighed and rolled over on the bed to look at Sam, “If I pick a new name I can’t use the logo you designed for me any more.”

“And I can design you a new one.”

“I know, and it’ll be awesome. But you worked hard on that first one, and it’s so… perfect. I’d hate to never use it again.”

“No one says you can’t keep the old logo too,” Tucker cut in before this old not-quite-argument could play out again. “One of the costume ideas was a jacket with patches on it, so put the DP on there somewhere.”

“Right at the top of the sleeve,” Sam suggested, pointing to her arm just below the shoulder joint.

“You can have patches for everyone, even. A skull and crossbones for Youngblood, a paw print for Wulf, a thirteen for Johnny.”

“A heart dripping poison for Kitty,” Sam said thoughtfully. She turned and started furiously scratching at her notebook. “Pandora’s helmet with four crossed swords behind it…”

“Pandora uses one single magic staff,” Danny said in a deadpan.

“Do Frostbite’s ice and bone arm, that’s rad as hell.” Tucker laughed to himself.

“Just don’t design anything for Spectra, I refuse to have her on my cool jacket.”

“So you’ll do the jacket?” Sam didn’t even look up.

“Yeah, I really like the idea. It’s a good way to keep my logo and little reminders of all my friends. You’ll do patches for yourselves too, right?”

“And Jazz,” Sam promised. “Val too, even. Red Huntress deserves her own logo.”

“Yeah, she does.” Danny rolled back onto his back and picked his phone back up, going to the notes app. “So I guess I can’t really use Phantom at all since I’m still hiding from the GIW and any connection to Amity Park.”

Tucker sighed, “Yeah, probably not.”

“And Ember has already vetoed any more ice or cold names.”

“Which is too bad, there are some killer ice puns out there.”

“Could always go with Great One,” Sam said airily, “that’s your yeti name.”

“Absolutely not,” Danny said with an upside down glare sent Sam’s way.

“Tyrant’s Bane,” Tucker suggested.

“Guillotine,” Sam gave her own suggestion.

“Imperial Coup.”

“Monarchy Ender.”

“Twenty-three stab wounds.”

“I didn’t even kill the guy, just put him back down for nappies.” Danny couldn’t help laughing. Any further banter stopped dead as Danny’s phone started buzzing and dinging. Danny sat up, “It’s Jazz.”

Sam and Tucker both turned to look at Danny, staying quiet as he answered.

“Hey Jazz, you okay?”

“Danny! Have you heard the news?” Jazz sounded excited, so hopefully it was good news.

“Not yet, hold on a sec and I’ll put you on speaker for Sam and Tuck.” While he put his phone on speaker, his best friends both moved to sit on the bed, surrounding the phone. “Okay, so what’s this news?”

“The Justice League is finally getting somewhere! Mom and Dad are on trial for supervillainy, the GIW is suspended while under investigation, and the anti-ecto acts are being repealed!”

“Oh shit!” “Really?!” “Finally!”

“Well,” Jazz hedged, some of her excitement dimming a little, “the GIW is probably going to be disbanded, so that’s good at least. But it turns out the anti-ecto acts are scattered over several bills working together. Apparently several pieces were hidden in environmental acts, probably betting on ecto being misread as eco. The big thing they’re trying to focus on first is all the legal definitions that are scientifically incorrect, like ecto-beings being non-sentient.”

“Yeah, I’d kind of like the government to acknowledge I can feel things,” Danny said with a hollow laugh.

“The other big news is the meta protection acts are getting expanded to include anyone from the Realms!”

“Danny!” Tucker was bouncing in place in excitement, “Danny you’re going to be legally protected!”

“Yeah,” Jazz agreed. “The meta protection act should supersede the anti-ecto acts. The main thing is that everyone from the Realms are going to be considered people now.”

Danny didn’t know what to say to that, it was… it was great! It was wonderful!

“So you keep saying everyone from the Realms, is that more than just ghosts?” Sam asked.

“Any kind of spirit, actually. Nature spirit, city spirit, spirits of the dead. Since the Infinite Realms are infinite it actually includes a lot, mostly it’s ‘the otherside of the veil’ and is also where fairies and elves and goblins live? And maybe demons and angels and some gods?” Jazz sounded less sure the more she said.

“Oh, nature spirits,” Sam said thoughtfully. “I guess that explains Undergrowth.”

“Something like that. Basically anything supernatural is getting lumped in all together. And also a few undead too, guess they’re using this as a chance to really expand things. From the way Wonder Woman was talking a lot of the magic users are upset this wasn’t done sooner.”

“Well considering that a few heroes have died and come back they were really leaving themselves open to be blindsided,” Tucker joked.

“It’s about time they stopped and considered actually doing what they promise to,” Sam grumbled.

“Danny,” Jazz asked in worry, “you okay?”

“I’m… legally a person.” Danny felt a little numb and kinda floaty, but he was pretty sure he was still on the bed.

“You’re legally a person,” Jazz said warmly.

“Hey,” Tucker said, “does this mean Phantom doesn’t have to be in hiding and you can use it as your stage name?”

“Just because I’m legally protected doesn’t mean all the people out for my head are going to suddenly stop. People do illegal stuff all the time,” Danny said.

“Yes,” Jazz agreed sadly before plowing on with steel in her voice, “but you shouldn’t have to hide anyway! If you want to be a ghost on stage then you should get to use your name.”

“It’s not like they wouldn’t recognize you anyway,” Tucker added.

“Plus, any former GIW agents that come looking for you won’t have government backing anymore. They might not even have access to any useful anti-ghost weapons.”

“I’ll think about it,” Danny said. “Later, for now I just want to enjoy this good news.”

“We should tell the others,” Tucker exclaimed.

“We should throw a party!” Sam scrambled off the bed and went digging through her luggage.

“Yeah,” Danny thought that was a great idea, “let’s throw a party!”

🎵🎸🎶

Time passed and life moved on, much to Damian’s annoyance. Daniel never resurfaced, not surprising when all Damian had was a single chance encounter after 8 years of hiding from The Demon. They couldn’t find any hints of how he managed to leave Midville, and no hints he was still there either. McLain was no better a lead, Gordon found she had had a few shows a couple years earlier, but all traces of it had been scrubbed from the internet. Likely her previous debut had been a humiliating flop and McLain wanted to bury it. Unfortunately for the bats whoever she got to do it was good, they didn’t even know where shows had been, let alone if it was where she had met Daniel. Gordon had set up a facial recognition program that was constantly scanning for Daniel, but all it ever turned up were false matches. It was frustrating, but it was beginning to look as though they would have to wait for Daniel to realize Damian wasn’t a threat and reach out to him.

Damian hoped Daniel would realize.

Father’s order came in, copies of every piece of McLain merch that had Daniel on it, including the duet as a single. On vinyl. Most of it was put on display in Father’s office in the manor, an acrylic “standee” ended up on his desk at Wayne tower, nestled in among the various photos of the family. When Damian saw it he wondered if Father’s employees had noticed it and if he’d explained who Daniel is to them yet. That would certainly be an interesting conversation.

Damian had also ordered a round of merchandise, even if most of it wasn’t displayed. The private videos had been downloaded and saved in various storage states to preserve them. Damian watched one from time to time, it gave him strange feelings watching Daniel be happy knowing he wasn’t living like that right now.

Damian hoped Daniel found new friends and another new life to be happy in. He hoped Daniel hadn’t gone and become a hermit somewhere to be so hard to find.

But all of that fell into the background as life continued. Summer was in full swing in Gotham, which meant miserably wet and hot days with barely any reprieve at night, and a population whose collective patience was at its shortest. Then school started, the weather finally cooled in the fall, Damian turned 15, and then another busy holiday season rolled around.

Damian wasn’t sure, but it seemed his family was specifically avoiding mentioning Daniel. It was understandable, they still had no idea where he had run off to, he couldn’t join them for the various holiday traditions they all partook in. When he asked Richard about it, he had told Damian that in these kinds of situations it’s better to focus on the people you are with than the people who can’t be there. As if to prove Richard’s point, Todd even showed up for a few of the holiday traditions.

And yet all Damian could think about was how every Christmas he’d ever celebrated had been without Daniel.

Then on Epiphany something happened. McLain announced a new tour in the spring, this one featuring a special surprise guest. It was all Damian could talk about at dinner that night. “Surely if she were just replacing Daniel’s role she would not make such an announcement.”

“Maybe, you said she lost a lot of fans when Daniel left?” Father asked. “It’s possible she feels highlighting the rest of her band may be a good PR move.”

“What are the chances it’s Danny with dyed hair and facial recognition obscuring stage makeup?” Duke asked jokingly.

“That would be utterly foolish,” Damian said with a sniff. “Daniel is smart enough to know better than to keep company with anyone he’s already been discovered with.”

“I don’t know about that,” Father said with a furrowed brow.

“Father, you’re not insulting Daniel’s intelligence!”

“No, no… not at all. But after you told us about him I don’t think any of us looked into Ember’s current doings too much. Bands usually have a lot of staff traveling with them on tours, and they usually don’t have photos taken of them. We couldn't find out much about her staff, it seemed she was paying them all under the table.”

Damian frowned, “Aside from their manager, I didn’t see any staff with McLain.”

“Well, it certainly won’t hurt to look into the staff working this new tour, just in case.”

“We should go to the new show either way, see who this special surprise guest is,” Duke said with a cheerful grin.

Damian did allow himself to make a sour face at that, sitting through the first show had been enough punishment.

“I will say, after paying so much attention to her I have grown a soft spot for Ember’s music,” Father said with a mischievous smile.

Damian did not want to go, but she was still their one and only connection to Daniel. “Very well, I will allow you to make the arrangements.”

Now time was passing with a goal, Damian found himself anticipating the coming spring break. It was foolish, he knew this likely wouldn’t lead to Daniel’s whereabouts, and yet the anticipation persisted.

When the night of the concert arrived Damian had found some of his family had chosen the most ridiculous clothes. Father was sensible, wearing his usual casual clothing. Damian, Cain, and Drake were all wearing the shirts from McLain’s previous tour, since they were available in their actual sizes. Richard and Thomas were also wearing the same shirt, but since it wasn’t available in a size that would fit them they had both altered the clothing by taking off the sleeves and seam ripping down the sides until the shirts gaped, like the ones worn while lifting weights at a gym. Todd chose to wear a shirt that actually fit him, though his was for a completely different band called The Grateful Dead, apparently it is a faux pas to wear a band shirt for the band one is seeing. Judging from how many other attendees were wearing either the previous tour shirt or the one with just McLain’s face on it, it’s not much of a faux pas.

The night went much the same as Damian’s previous McLain concert experience, neither improved nor worsened by his family’s presence. Although Todd kept making odd faces. Between songs he motioned them all to lean in close.

“There’s something going on with their voices, magic I think. Not sure what though.”

Ah, so it was magic that was used to spirit Daniel away when he was discovered. There was even a chance he had been learning it as well, it might even explain why they couldn’t track him down after.

“Alright, Easton!” McLain said loudly, earning a round of cheers from the audience. “You guys ready for the debut of a brand new song?” Judging from the way the audience cheered, they were. “Anything for you, my lovely fans.”

That earned a round of surprised gasps along with the cheers. The lights suddenly turned off and the audience hushed in anticipation. A spotlight came on, shining on McLain as she started strumming a slower song.

I, I just woke up from a dream Where you and I had to say goodbye And I don't know what it all means But since I survived, I realized

What followed was a bittersweet song about spending the end of the world next to her lover. It seemed morbid, but the sentiment all the sweeter for it. The song built in intensity as McLain wailed the chorus, then the song pulled back. A second spotlight came on, a new artist was strolling onto the stage.

Oh, lost, lost in the…

The rest of the line was drowned out by excited screaming from the audience, which was quickly hushed by the rest of the audience. The teenager that came walking up as he sang was playing a glittering, white, translucent guitar that looked to be imitating ice. He was wearing a black jacket covered in colorful patches over a black shirt, silver belt, and loose black pants tucked into silver combat boots. Most notably his hair was pure white and seemed to defy gravity while his eyes were such a bright green they could be seen even in the audience.

The pair sang together, trading off lines in the chorus or harmonizing when they sang together. The effect was certainly haunting, but most haunting of all was just how familiar the new singer’s voice was. Damian glanced at his family to see them all staring at the stage with similar focus, clearly thinking the same thing as Damian.

It seemed whatever magic or cosmetics Daniel used to change his appearance couldn’t be done to his voice.

Thomas was going to be insufferable.

A large screen at the back of the stage lit up and words appeared. Phantom and McLain held their hands out to the audience, who started singing along.

If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you If the party was over and our time on Earth was through I'd wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you

As the song wound down Father leaned down to whisper into Damian’s ear, “I’m glad I sprung for the backstage experience after the show.”

“We’re not deviating from the plan,” Damian responded.

“Yes, of course.” Father straightened back up and clapped along with the audience once the last note played.

The audience screamed, “Phantom!” loudly from behind them. Damian turned to find a portion of the audience jumping in place, holding up signs with what seemed to be a stylized D on them or the name Phantom scrawled across.

Daniel, presumably Phantom, looked shocked. He put a hand up to shield his eyes against the now brightly lit stage lights. “Is that…?”

“Surprise!” McLain called cheerfully as she patted Daniel on the shoulder.

“Oh ancients, you guys!” Daniel was clearly struggling to keep hold of his emotions. He rallied with a bright smile despite his glittering eyes, “Where my Parkers at?”

The audience screamed, yelling phrases such as, “We love you Phantom!”

“I missed you guys too.” Daniel sniffled, but was smiling so wide it was becoming unsettling.

“For those of you who don’t know, this is our surprise secret guest: Phantom Dwarfstar!” McLain paused to allow the audience to express their excitement. “Now nothing and no one can replace Frosty McGee as a person, but Phantom here is taking his place in the band.”

“I was actually supposed to debut with Ember, but couldn’t until now.”

“And it’s great to finally have Phantom up on stage with us, right where he’s supposed to be. Let’s hear it one more time for our newest member!”

The audience cheered once more, most of it coming from the section that already knew him, it seemed the rest of the audience had mixed feelings about Phantom. A glance at Father showed him him frowning for some reason, clearly looking concerned.

Daniel smiled and waved, “Alright, enough about me. Let’s hear it for the real star of the show. Ember! Ember!”

As if on cue the portion of the audience that had been chanting for Daniel started chanting for McLain, the rest of the audience quickly picking the chant up as Daniel jogged over to join the rest of the band.

“Alright, you guys ready for Remember?!”

The rest of the show went on as before, save for Damian and his family keeping their eyes solely on Daniel. Once the show ended Father herded them towards the backstage, where their VIP experience would pay off.

“I would like to state for the record,” Thomas was saying, “that I called it. Bruce as my witness, right down to the bad dye job.”

“I dunno,” Todd replied, “I think the hair is legit. I’m pretty sure Phantom was doing some kind of magic with his voice too. The same kind of magic as Ember, but a different spell? I’m not really sure how to explain it.”

“It makes sense Daniel would learn magic if he took up with magic users,” Damian said stiffly.

“If we’re going to stick with the plan you need to use his stage name,” Father said softly.

Damian nodded. He knew what he had to do.

🎵🎸🎶

Danny and his friends were celebrating in the green room after the show. Danny felt… strange. Emotionally tired, physically pumped. Guess doing the show as a ghost really changed his stamina.

“I can’t believe you guys!” Danny said with a laugh.

“I give the best surprises!” Ember cackled, spinning in the air in delight. “The look on your face!”

“It’s amazing! Any clue on when they have to go back? It’s Saturday night…”

“It’s spring break, dipstick,” Ember mocked him. “They’re here until next weekend!”

Danny felt gravity’s hold on him slip away, the room growing brighter. “The whole week?”

“It took a lot of doing to arrange things like this, you better appreciate!”

Danny darted over and pulled Ember into a hug, “You’re the best, Ember!”

“And don’t you forget it!”

There was a knock on the door, Morty poked his head in. “The VIPs are here for their backstage experience.”

“Awesome!” Ember settled down on the floor, always excited when these happened. Danny was rather proud, he thinks it was one of his better suggestions. He moved to go perch on a nearby armchair while the zombies all leaned back on a couch.

Morty opened the door wide and in filed a group of people. Four absolute tanks of men, one guy who was just regular buff, and a woman. One of the tanks, an older man with gray in his hair, stepped off to the side while everyone else approached Ember for the meet’n’greet. Something about the older man looked strangely familiar. It wasn’t helped by the way everyone kept glancing over at Danny. At Phantom.

“And you are?” Ember asked the older man after meeting everyone else.

“Bruce Wayne, but I’m just here as the chaperone.” Which was an odd thing to say, everyone else was at least old enough to drive but half of them looked like full blown adults.

Ember seemed to agree, “You guys need a chaperone?”

“Not them, no. My youngest.” Mr. Wayne looked back, “Do you want to come out and say hello?”

Damian stepped out from behind Mr. Wayne.

Danny couldn’t help stiffening up in shock, looking between Damian and Mr. Wayne. He was paler than Damian, but the similarities were there. ‘So that’s where I get my eyes from,’ Danny found himself thinking.

Ember also recognized Damian, crossing her arms and scowling. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Hello, again,” Damian said blandly. “I simply wish to send a message to Daniel.”

Danny caught the way Damian’s eyes darted to him for a moment. Time to commit to the bit, “Ember, who’s this?”

“This is the guy who scared Frosty off,” Ember motioned to Damian. “And I already told you, we haven’t heard from him since he left.”

“Nevertheless, if he does contact you please inform him that Grandfather is dead and I left the League years ago.”

“WHAT?!” Danny couldn’t help shrieking, rocketing into the air in shock.

Everyone in the room turned their attention fully on him, including Damian. “Grandfather is dead, and I left the League years ago. I’ve been living with our Father.” He motioned to Mr. Wayne, who waved awkwardly.

Danny didn’t know how to react to that, didn’t know how to feel about that. His legs wisped into a tail before popping back to legs, a layer of frost coated the room then vanished. Danny looked over to Ember.

“Baby-pop I swear if you abandon the tour again!”

“No, no, of course not,” Danny defended.

“I’ve already bought so much merch, how can I brag about you to my board members if you drop out again?” Mr. Wayne asked.

Danny felt something in his brain break and couldn’t help giggling at that.

“How much longer is this going to take?” Dash’s voice came loudly yet muffled from the hallway. “We have an afterparty to get to!”

“Give them a moment, Phantom’s in the middle of a reunion with his birth family,” Morty snapped back.

“WHAT?!” Jazz shrieked. Oh, Jazz was here too! This was great! The door to the green room burst open, Jazz standing in the doorway. She leveled the Not-Fenton-Anymore Anti-Creep Stick at Damian and said, “You!”

“Jazz!” Danny zipped down and wrapped himself around her for a full body hug.

“Danny!” Jazz hugged him back, everything was right in the world.

“Ms. Nightingale,” Mr. Wayne said with a strained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Bruce Wayne, Danny’s father.” He held a hand out, which Jazz ignored.

“It’s okay, they said Grandfather is dead and Damian’s not in the League anymore.”

“I’m assuming the League is the cult you were born in,” Jazz said with a fond sigh. She turned her attention back to Mr. Wayne. “How do you know my name?”

“I’m one of the Justice League’s backers, I like to keep abreast of their bigger projects. Finding out the US government nearly started a war with an entire dimension was quite the shock.”

Great, now Damian was going to look up everything to do with Jazz and find out all about everything.

Sam and Tucker slipped into the room and joined the hug. Okay, now for real everything was right in the world.

“So, how about that afterparty?” One of the tanks asked, Danny thinks he introduced himself as Jason.

“Can we come?” One of the other ones asked. “It’s okay if not, we can just exchange phone numbers, it’s a lot to take in.”

“No, afterparty’s fine.” It really was, Danny was actually pretty happy about getting his little brother back in his life, and he was super curious about his birth father. “You guys got a hotel for the night?”

“Wait, hold up,” Sam demanded. “Is that Bruce mother fucking Wayne?!”

“He did fuck my mother, thank you for reminding me,” Danny deadpanned.

“Danny!” Jazz snapped, accompanied by a relatively gentle smack to the back of his head.

“Hey, watch the piercings, those hurt!” Danny protectively put his hands up to shield his ears from any errant hands. The piercings may be fake, but only because he just straight up phased them into his ears.

“No, back up, you’re telling me Bruce Wayne is your bio dad?!”

“I literally just found out myself.” Danny sighed deeply, then squinted at Sam, “Wait, how do you know him.”

“He’s richer than Vlad and kinda famous for it.”

“Oh… gross.” It seemed Danny just couldn’t escape from money. Danny idly wondered what his too-rich-for-his-own-good secret underground lair was, couldn’t be worse than Vlad’s cloning lab or Grandfather’s afterlife sewage jacuzzi.

“To answer your question,” Mr. Wayne said with an amused smile, “yes, we do have hotel rooms booked for the evening. Though we can extend it a little longer if you’d like.” Mr. Wayne sounded so hopeful.

“I dunno, my friends are only here for spring break…” Danny looked towards the door, where the rest of his friends were waiting to start the afterparty. He could hear the rest of his classmates starting to get more and more impatient.

“We can arrange something later,” the second tank said brightly. “We’ll extend the hotel a day or two, exchange numbers, make some plans, and you’ll have the rest of the week to hang out.”

Sam scoffed, “It’s not like Gotham’s even all that far, c’mon let’s get going!”

“Gotham?” Danny asked, that seemed important for some reason, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as Sam dragged him out the door.  He had an afterparty to get to. He had a new life to get to.

[clarkeybabey]

Hi! This is my first time requesting anything so I hope I'm doing this right, was wondering if u could do some george hcs of being his gf while he plays in the charity match? Thank you xx

thank you so much for the request!! I hope you enjoy:)))), a bit suggestive at the end..... more coming soon;)

poor baby is so nervous in the weeks leading up to it

"i would've rather them ask me the day of." "you wouldn't have been prepared." "I genuinely couldn't care less about preparation; the suspense is killing me."

He's dialled in every second, whether that be the sidemen Instagram or the whatsapp group chat

"you do know they've already announced you, right?" "yes, darling, but what if they change their mind or something???"

and you better believe when the fellas streamed discussing the lineup, he had it, volume blasting, on your bedroom tv, knee bouncing.

"you're going to be riding that bench mate," "shut the fuck up, Christopher."

chris and arthur give him so much shit for how he's acting

"arthur, you weren't even invited. you're not a part of this!!!" "Bit harsh, mate, no?" "They're scared they'll hurt your ever-so-fragile ego if they don't invite you back." "alrighty then..."

practically begs them and you despite your plans with the other wags to let you be there on training day.

"she'll be well behaved, simon, i promise." "i don't think I'm the one they're worried about..." "we'll bring the leash just in case," "STOP FORCING THE PET PLAY NARRATIVE, GEORGE CLARKE."

he has an eye on you the entire day, introduces you to everyone you haven't met yet, and makes sure you see all the defending he does or the goals he makes. Clearly in search of much-needed validation

"is this your missus, clarkey?" "oh yeah, ginge, this is [name], my wife." scoffing, you hold up your ringless hand, "that's news to me."

"did you see that, holy shit," he says in a pile of limbs on the grass, "I did, yes, but lets not kill ourselves before you've even touched the pitch."

all of a sudden, the morning of match day, he wakes you up dressed in his Sidemen FC zip-up, feeling scarily indifferent about being in front of millions, playing with some of the biggest social media stars.

he kisses your cheek before stepping out for team breakfast. "are you sure you're okay?" two nights prior he was quite anxious about the crowd or disappointing anyone, but now he's just chill.

"im fine, baby, excited but im not freaking out anymore," he shrugs toying with his vlog camera settings, "Well, I've got breakfast with liv and sab in a bit, text me okay?"

You receive a kiss on the corner of your mouth, followed by a salute, and he's off

Throughout the time before the match, you're shooting him endless messages of encouragement and well-wishes, he's quick with thank you's and assurances that he's okay, just footie with his mates, he insists

The crowd erupts with screams during their walkouts, you're aware of the amount of support your friends and boyfriend receive on the internet, but the energy in the stadium seemed to be something otherworldly.

He was benched for a bit, but when he was out there, he made his presence known. Anxiety and pride are the only things you find yourself feeling

especially the ladder when he scored his goal, despite his doubts that he'd be able to do so.

Once the celebrations calm down, one of the girls speaks up, "Someone's getting it tonight," with wagging brows. you don't answer, but the irrepressible smirk on your face says everything you refuse to.

Before you know it, it's over. The match goes into penalties for the first time ever, unfortunately, Sidemen FC loses because of one missed penalty.

There are no hard feelings as 4.7 million pounds and counting was raised and split among three charities. Unless Chris, Deji, and Danny's bragging rights are brought up

You find him in the showers after most everyone's left to change and freshen up for the afterparty. He's a sight with his towel hanging low on his hips, seemingly typing up a text; it takes a lot of restraint not to jump on him right there.

your phone chimes with his notification, he smiles when he finds your eyes, "Don't go getting any ideas, i don't think i'd like to be banned from Wembley." you scoff, jokingly offended, "how dare you assume I'm thinking inappropriately, just wanted to see my man,"

"told you id meet you in the lobby. you're very impatient," simple words, his pretty eyes, and a hand squeezing your hip have all words dying on your tongue

They quickly return when his wet hair soaks both your neck and top. "George," you gasp, doing your best to put space between the two of you, not really caring when you fail and are lifted up onto the communal sinks, "Now whos getting ideas?"

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Chapter One (of four)

Masterpost

Danny hit the brakes hard and veered into a bicycle lane with a very Fenton sort of style and disregard for physics. He dodged the gunman in the carpool lane. He stuck his tongue out as he passed and then steered back into the right lane once he’d cleared the pedestrian. 

It turned out that Gotham rewarded the sort of drivers forged in the crucible of the Fenton tactical GAV, which was great. Jazz had gotten a job as a barista for her third year at Gotham U, so he had inherited the car that she had used as a delivery driver. She’d even somehow managed to pay the taxes on it despite the restraining orders that most government offices had on the Fenton family.

Jazz had been a pizza girl, but Danny wasn’t willing to work the late nights. He worked for three different rideshare companies. It was.. Well. It was a terrible way to make a living, if he was honest. It was wretched. But it worked! Until the car crapped out on him, this was a viable option to feed himself while he was enrolled full time at the university. He was available to drive early in the mornings and for a few peak hours on the weekends.

Danny brought an order of 17 coffees to a warehouse with serious ‘murders will happen here today’ vibes and whistled as he left. People in murder warehouses actually tipped pretty well. Worker solidarity or something. He left the early birds to enjoy their 3 am drinks and then idly checked the app to see if there was anyone else waiting for a ride or delivery. 

“Victor,” he read, and took a glance at the address. It was close! He snagged the request and turned on some bubblegum pop to enhance the ride over. 

He saw a man standing outside, haunting a storefront with metal shutters pulled down. Must be the guy! Danny pulled over, checked the app, and then furrowed his eyebrows. Huh. Seemed wrong. He fixed his face before he looked back over. 

In the app, Victor didn’t look especially young or fit. In person, he was easily over 6 feet tall and lugged a huge bulky bag like it weighed nothing. 

He also had a giant ugly motorcycle helmet with the vague impression of a caveman brow ridge built into it. Danny hid his judgmental thoughts and rolled down the window to chirp, “Hi! Victor?”

“That’s me.” Victor sounded like he was auditioning for the Deft Punks, electronics grinding out his voice to a silly robot autotune. Danny hid the way his lips wanted to tremble. You can’t laugh at clients. “Can I put this in the trunk?”

Danny hated that. “Go for it.” He opened the trunk with the button and hid his real thoughts. He didn’t like people using the trunk. Why not just put it in the backseat like a normal person? There was enough room for a person and a bag there.

‘Is there enough room for this guy, actually?’ Danny wondered, looking Victor up and down subtly. Were his shoulders padded or was he actually built like that? Bizarre. 

He had the sense that Victor was tense.

‘Ah., fuck. He caught me checking out his shoulders.’

Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 

Victor took him up on the front seat option and readjusted the passenger seat back with a casual ease. 

Danny waited a moment.

Victor cocked his head at him.

“Seatbelt,” Danny prompted.

There was a long moment. Victor silently buckled his seatbelt. 

“Awesome.” Danny put on his turn signals and pulled out. He went slower than he preferred. He’d learned the hard way that most passengers didn’t like his driving. It was great for cutting time off when he was delivering food, but no good for nervous cargo like poor Victor here. The poor guy was so anxious that he kept his emotional support helmet on when a passenger in a car. 

Danny thoughtfully drove the speed limit and let Victor change music.

They didn’t have much to talk about. Danny didn’t mind much either way. He liked quiet rides and he liked chatting alright.

“Stop the car two blocks early,” Victor said. He pointed. “There’s fine.”

Obligingly Danny guided the car to a stop and shifted to park. He jumped out of the car. “I’ll grab your bag!” He called over his shoulder. He popped open the trunk and lifted Victor’s bag with a winning smile that said ‘I deserve a good tip.’

Victor had moved to the back of the car faster than Danny expected. He paused. He looked weirdly stiff. “Thanks.” He took the bag. “...Here’s your tip.”

“Have a wonderful day!” Danny said, pretending not to be interested in how much money it was. He waved Victor goodbye and pulled out. As soon as he was a block away he counted the bills. “Fuck yeah,” he hissed. Victor tipped like a crime boss. He stuffed them into his wallet and made a mental note of the account. He’d definitely try to accept requests from him in future.

He gave two more rides before he could go back to his shitty apartment and get ready for classes. Danny parked in the little underground garage near his place where he paid a monthly fee and jogged to his place. He got his bag and left on foot.

He had a pretty normal day. The only hiccup was that it was kind of hard to focus on his lectures when he could faintly hear what had to be every TV on campus playing the same news bulletin. Danny did his best to block it out, grimacing. Having advanced senses really sucked sometimes. If he heard the breaking news jingle one more time, he might cry. 

By the time he was free he felt pushed to his limit. He went back to his place and turned off all his electronics for some peace of mind. 

The next morning felt better. He turned on the tab that said he was available for work at 3 am and ended up bringing a huge delivery of breakfast materials to the same police station that he’d left Victor at yesterday. Danny hummed as he jogged up the concrete steps with three bulging bags of baked goods and coffee grounds. He handed them to a weary-eyed receptionist and accepted his tip without looking at it. He considered cracking a joke about them being busy and decided it was better not to.

He was still an illegal entity, after all. His parents were covering for him, but scrutiny was not his friend. He didn’t want any interaction with the police or the rogue band of detective freakazoids that ran this crime town.

Back in the car, he checked his tip. Danny clicked his tongue and made a disgusted sound. He hated cops. Cheap! There was nothing worse than being cheap.

His next customer tried to rob him at gunpoint as soon as he got in the car. Danny wrestled the gun away from him and ate it while the guy watched. “Just try and report me to the app,” Danny sneered between crunches of metal. It tasted like shit and the guy probably hadn’t washed his hands, so like, yuck. But it was a choice he was making for the intimidation factor, not because it was yummy.

‘Bet my iron intake is good now.’ Danny held out his hand. “My tip,” he said, and did not unlock the car door until the shaking wannabe carjacker had given him three dollars American money. Hell yeah. “Have a good morning.”

He went into the app and canceled the ride. There was another request waiting, so he drove to it. It wasn’t the name that the app’s request had shown, but- “Good morning, Victor!” Danny waved. “Call from a friend’s app this time?”

Victor stared at him dumbly. At least, that was Danny’s best guess of what was going on inside the helmet. “Yes.” He eventually said.

Cool, cool. Very weird. But he was an ok guy and he tipped well. “Hop in,” Danny said, and unlocked the car.

[phantomwithbreakfast]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

First post ever. Oh, my. I’m such a noob at this. So bare with me, please!

DP content loading…

Halloween was supposed to be Danny’s night off—a chance to enjoy the frights and fun without worrying about ghosts or ghost hunters. He, Sam, and Tucker were strolling through the rainy streets, drenched but laughing, making their way to a Halloween party. Danny had even gone for a classic look, throwing an old bed sheet over himself. Underneath, he was still Phantom, his ghostly glow hidden, figuring no one would notice on Halloween. Right?

As they got closer to the party, droplets dripping down his soaked sheet, Danny couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. Maybe I’ll get through tonight without a single ghost hunt, he thought, smiling to himself.

But just as he let his guard down, he caught sight of two familiar figures in the distance—his parents, Jack and Maddie, sprinting toward him with their ghost-hunting gear gleaming through the mist. Their ecto-scanners must have picked up his signature. Heart pounding, he backpedaled, slipping and stumbling until he found himself cornered in a nearby alley, the rain pouring down harder, plastering his sheet to his body.

“Uh… can’t I just, like, take a night off?” Danny stammered, pulling the sheet tighter around him, hoping they wouldn’t recognize the glow. “By the way, nice costumes!”

“Costumes?” Maddie smirked, aiming her ecto-blaster, raindrops streaking down her goggles. “Nice try, Phantom, but we’re not here to trick-or-treat.”

Danny shot a desperate look at Sam and Tucker, silently begging for an escape plan. Spoiler alert: they didn’t have one. His parents were closing him inn he hit the back wall of the alley, rain dripping down his face, and in his panic, the sheet slipped from his shoulders, leaving him exposed as Phantom. Great. Just great.

“Well, well, look who’s cornered,” Jack grinned, his blaster humming as he powered it up. “We’ve been saving this tech just for you, Phantom!”

Danny forced a nervous smile, raising his hands in surrender. “Uh, I was just here for the candy, really…”

His dad fired before he could finish, and Danny found himself tangled in an ecto-net, rain-soaked and sputtering as his powers faded. “A net? Really? You can’t do better than that?” he muttered before realizing sarcasm probably wasn’t helping.

“Oh, we’ve got more than that,” Maddie replied, tightening the net with a gleam in her eye. “Tonight, we’re making sure you’re not going anywhere.”

Danny cast a helpless look at Sam and Tucker, rain dripping from his hair. “Uh… a little help?”

Sam shrugged, giving him a teasing smile. “You did say you wanted an exciting Halloween.”

Danny sighed, muttering under his breath, “Should’ve just gone as a ninja…”

———————

I wanted to draw something for Halloween. And DP is the perfect match for it, for me though. First I didn’t want to draw Dannyyy angry… But all of a sudden his brows were furrowed. So I had to came up with a little story behind the art lol.

Poor Danny is being captured again.

Art made in ProCreate.

DP copyright/rights, belongs to Nickelodeon 🥶

Still pissed they ended the show 17 years ago, but hey. Who am I? Lol.

———————

PS: stay tuned to see more in the future.

You can also follow my IG: phantomwithbreakfast

I also have an account on FanFiction.net under the same name. So if you want to read something when you’re bored… (posted there my first story—not finished yet)

Also, almost everything is gunna be DP related.

——————

I don’t know how Tumblr works, even when I had it like… years now—I never used it. But I needed new Social Platforms for specific reasons.

And also, I was a bit anxious about posting my stuff online, but here we are—I finally shared it.

[medusas-graveyard]

Comfort In A Knight

There was an uproar in the infinite realms after they found out about the GIW's imprisonment of the crowned prince, and as an attempt to damage control, he decides to hold a temporary martial law over the dimension. Some are upset, of course; but all of them ultimately acknowledges the young ruler's attempts on not starting an interdimensional war.

A few months go by, and while the inhabitants of the infinite realms all calmed down from the initial uproar, ironically, the crowned prince is the one getting agitated by the meddling of humans. All the pressure of his monarch lessons so he could take the king mantel, civil conflict between different parts of the realm, and some extremist rebellions are slowly making him more tired, anxious, and easily agitated. The once lawful neutral prince has turned into someone who would get rid of anyone he deemed as a bug, squashed by the heel of his boots.

Tl:Dr; He's tired of everyone's bullshit.

.

So really, it's not a surprise to see his eldritch self bounded inside a summoning circle, surrounded by Justice League members because of course he is.

"What do you want."

He's really contemplating on going 'fuck it' and destroy earth right now.

...that is, before a familiar gruffy voice called out to him.

"That's enough, Charon."

He whipped his head (if you can call it that) to the direction of the voice, finding batman's figure walking closer to him, ignoring the yelling from other Justice League members.

Eventually, he drops his act and turn into the teenager the Batman is all too familiar with. The boy drops his hand below the golden ribcage nestled on his chest, the familiar white hair peeking out of his hood slightly move around non-existent air, as his Lazarus green eyes stared at the dark knight, causing his Calavera–painted face to scrunch.

The man didn't stop for a second as he trudged closer, only stopping when he's directly Infront of the ghost, all within arms reach.

"I'm right here."

For the first time in several months, the prince finds himself breaking down into a sob. He easily destroyed the (poor attempt of a) binds caging him, throwing himself to the Knight's body.

The rest of the League stared at them dumbfoundedly, before Batman eventually sighed.

"Justice league; Phantom. Crowned prince of the infinite realms."

"...And my ward."

Notes:

Reference on Danny's clothing

Yep. Another adoptee au

[cat-autism-wizard]

wes watching phantom is nothing new. everyone knew wes was spitting nonsense about that poor ghost boy and they just stopped listening to him at one point. it came to bite in the ass for him.

after the countless fight for the day, phantom was tired of everything and just wanted to go home and sleep but lady luck never smiled at the fentons other than to mock them. as he was flying towards a safe space to change back he heard very familiar voices shouting after him.

"we will catch you phantom and we will dissect you molecule by molecule." he heard his father shouting.

not this again.

he usually was better at avoiding his parents but this time his exhaustion was catching up to him.

wes saw phantom flying and decided to follow him. he knew nothing was going to happen since it was the fentons. until they shot him. wes didnt think too much about the shot, danny endured so much worse than a little shot from his parents. wes saw danny fly away to behind some building, probably to transform so he could get rid of the target on him. so he waited him to come out of nowhere to excuse him of being phantom but he didnt come out.

"i swear to ancients if you flew away to not to face your parents or me i will-"

wes' sentence was cut by the scene in front of him. danny passed out on the ground with blood coming from where he was shot.

"fenton?"

shit. this wasnt supposed to happen. it shouldve been the regular easy-to-heal wound, not the wound-so-bad-turned-human wound. shit shit shit SHIT. what was wes supposed to do? he cant leave him like that, even though they dont get along the best danny was still a person, half ghost or not.

wes decided to go to the fentons for help. he could get danny some help and could expose him too. two birds with one stone.

what he didnt expect was how the fentons react.

maddie and jack laughed like it was the funniest joke ever.

"you silly boy. ghosts cant turn humans, if something like that happens its just a ghost manipulating you to pity it." maddie said.

"no i mean what if theyre a half ghost?" wes tried to explain but it was to no avail.

"nonsense, everyone know half-ghosts dont exist. theyre like leprechauns, nonexistent!" jack stated.

their ideas were not even budging even a little.

"what if that ghost turned into someone you know?" wes asked trying to hear some sympathy or just a little hope that they will help.

"then we will regret that ghost ever taking that form." maddie said smiling but anyone could tell it was a violent smile.

shit.

wes weston was a lot of things. observant, annoying, stubborn.. and apparently stupid was one of them.

he was stupid to think two of the most ghost obsessed mad scientists could change their ideas just by his words.

"oh. oh yeah alright. i uhh i need to go." wes sadi and ran towards the place danny was lying unconscious. he tried his best to put some pressure on the wound to hopefully stop the bleeding. the moment he put his hands on it he heard danny hiss with pain.

he didnt know what to do. he couldnt call an ambulance, half ghosts probably had a different bodily functions he guessed after seeing danny avoiding to go infirmary even after a concussion in the school. he couldnt call his parents apparently.

"who knows about phantom after than me. think wes think" he thought out loud. then he realized.

ancients he really was stupid.

wes tried to find danny's phone in his pocket and called one of his friends to get them to help.

as the phone was ringing he was getting more anxious and worried by the second.

"dude this better be good i was middle of a mission in do-" wes cut tucker.

"foley i'll send our location. you have to help fenton."

"wait is that you wes? why do you have danny's phone? i didnt know you were a fully a creep-"

"folley shut the fuck up and come here. fenton's hurt." the line went quiet. then wes heard some typing and a chair noise.

"i texted sam. send us the location we'll be there in 5. and wes if something happened to danny because of you i'll make sure you regret everything." tucker hang up. wes expected a threat but he thought it would come from the goth and not the geek.

wes send their location and tried to get danny in a more comfortable position without moving him too much. he put danny's head on his lap and pray to the ancients that tucker and sam would be there soon.

tucker and sam came after five minutes like tucker said but for wes it felt like hours.

sam without even talking started to tend his wounds best way she could while tucker started to ask questions to (investigating) wes.

"what happened to him?" tucker asked with no sign of his normal upbeat tone.

"his parents. fenton was flying and they shot at him and actually succeeded then he flew here i followed him and i found him lying on the ground unconscious." wes explained.

"so you were stalking him again." sam spitted like venom.

"i was not stalking. i saw him and i followed him. would you rather him dying here with no one by himself?" wes argued.

"dont you fucking there saying stuff-"

"sam thats enough. we will shout at him later." tucker tried to stop sam. she mumbled a 'fine' and continued to make sure danny was not losing any blood.

"he needs ectoplasm and blood." sam said after a while of silence.

"ectoplasm is easy we can get into fenton lab easily but why blood? he never needed blood before." tucker asked.

"yes because he never go unconscious when he got shot like this. he lost blood as a human too this time." she stood up as she collected her aid bag. she sighed.

"i dont know how we're going to find blood for him though. i could try to buy some but it will land us in a list or something. we cant go to a hospital and cant ask his family for some blood." she thought out loud like she was asking them.

"i can give it to him." wes said suddenly after a quick thinking.

"he has an O negative type he could only get from O negatives." sam explained annoyed.

"i am an O negative." wes said as he took of his jacket and put under danny's head as he stood up. sam and tucker shared a glance.

"i guess it would work." sam said with defeat. "tucker you get the ectoplasm from the fentons, i'll get wes and danny to my house for the blood transfusion." she gave out orders. tucker nodded hurried up to the fentonworks.

"help me get him to my house." sam said, wes just nodded and lifted danny bridal style and sam got her aid bag and wes' jacket. he was careful not to touch the wound or fuck up any bandages. all the years he knew danny for the first time he looked vulnerable like that. it hurt wes' heart. he looked tried, it was obvious he didnt get any sleep more than a day. he was too focused on not hurting danny, he was only reminded of sam's existence when he heard a pic take noise. he gave her a questioning look.

"black mail." she said as if it explained anything for wes.

"dont worry my house isnt that far." sam informed wes and started to walk, wes following after her. after a little while they stopped in front of the manson mansion. sam waited for wes' reaction to be like everyone else's but he just stood there and waited for sam to open the door.

"not gonna react? 'wow you were actually rich? why didnt you tell anyone?' or something?" sam mocked as she was unlocking the door. then she realized something.

"wait dont tell me you already knew my house because of the stalking." sam accused. wes with wide eyes.

"what? no!! seriously do you guys think anything about me other than a creepy stalker? i figured out you were rich after you paid for almost everything for the both and even offering to buy blood if it didnt land you in some list!!" wes defended himself.

"now can you open the door so we can get to saving your friend, who im carrying?" sam opened the door and guided him to her room.

"put him on my bed. i'll get the syringe." wes did as she said and sit on the bed waiting for sam. he stared at the boy who was on the bed. his white shirt he always wore now had blood stains and another stain wes guessed as ectoplasm. he was sweaty from the pain, his hair was sticking to his face. wes gently removed his hair from his face and stared some more.

wes was an observant person but he never really looked at danny other than him being the phantom. now he looked at him as a person and not just phantom. and he was pretty. really pretty.

"alright weston, roll up your sleeves." sam came into the room with the necessary equipment at hand.

"have you done this before?" wes asked as he rolled his sleeves up.

"with blood?? no. i did it with ectoplasm multiple times though. however they feel different, so it'll be different for me. blood is more liquidy than ectoplasm." sam explained as she set the stuff accordingly.

"this does not help me relax at all." wes mumbled with anxiety.

"relax it will be fine. probably." sam flashed a teasing smile. wes gulped.

sam carefully inserted a sterile needle in wes' arm. they were really lucky that wes grew out of fear of needles or it would be impossible for him to stay with a needle on his arm in a teenager's room without any professional.

oh ancients he was about to lose it.

"ho-how many more you do you- uhh do you need?" wes stuttered. sam checked the blood in the bag.

"not much like a five minutes top. why?" she turned to wes, who looked like they saw a ghost which ironic because he was currently donating blood for a ghost.

"wait. are you afraid of blood? wait, no you were fine when you were helping danny. are you afraid of needles?" sam grinned. wes didnt say anything knowing it was pointless to deny it.

"wow. thats what i call a character development. giving your archenemy your blood even if youre scared of needles?" sam started to laugh. wes wanted to deny it but with everything that was happening she could be right.

"hes not my archenemy." he mamaged to get that out.

"sure whatever you say, weston. but good news is the is enough for now. we could think about other options when danny wakes up." sam said as she get the needles out of wes' arm. he sighed with relief. she started to set the bag for danny when the door rang.

"wes open the door its tucker." sam said as she continued to set things up. wes opened the door for tucker.

"okay i got some ectoplasm luckily i think its from the blob ghosts' ectoplasm so no ghosts were damaged with this one also i saw some disturbing new weapons." tucker started to explain as he gave the container to sam.

"what kind of weapon?" sam asked.

"was it the one they used on fenton today?" wes asked. tucker was about to start explaining but he stopped himself.

"sam can we talk after you set up danny's ectoplasm and blood?" sam nodded and finished up inserting needle into danny's arm. she put the contained ectoplasm into a bloog bag and put next to blood. after the blood she was gonna set the ectoplasm to the intravenous line.

after the set up tucker and sam went out of the room to talk. wes sighed. he couldnt blame them for not trusting him. he did try to expose danny to everyone everyday for two years now.

as the time passed by wes pulled up a chair next to the bed and waited.

then danny moved.

"danny?" wes gently said as if he was afraid of waking him up.

"wes? why are you here? where am i?" danny tried to get up only stopping when he realized the needle in his arm. he looked around and was relieved when he realized its somewhere he was familiar with.

"dont move. i'll get manson." wes stood up but danny held his arm to stop him.

"alarm her later, she wont let me breath if she knows." danny said weakly and sat up. wes didnt think it was a good idea but still played along and sat down.

"what happened?"

"you were shot and then passed out i found you, called foley and now youre here." wes explained briefly.

"shit." danny said as he started to remember stuff.

"do my parents.. know?" he asked but he didnt want to hear the answer.

"no. they dont." wes assured. danny looked at him with suspicion in his eyes. he didnt blame him.

"i'll get manson." he get out of the room this time without letting danny stop him again. then he overheard tucker and sam talking.

"what do you think? should we trust him?" tucker asked.

"he does seem changed but i dont think we can trust him just yet." sam replied.

he couldnt blame them.

he knocked on the door to alert them. that he was coming.

"hey, danny's awake." he said. both tucker and sam quickly went into the room to check up on their friends. it was more of a scolding than a check up.

wes smiled at sight. he had so much to think about. he went to the door.

"where are you going?" danny called out for wes. he turned back.

"since you were good, i thought i would leave you guys alone." wes explained like it was the most obvious thing ever. the trio exchanged looks and turned back to wes.

"do you wanna stay more?" tucker asked.

"what?"

"he asked if you wanted stay more, weston." sam repeated.

"why?"

"geez we thought you would like to stay more. no need to-" wes cut sam mid sentence.

"no no i mean why would YOU want me to stay? you dont trust me, understandably so. we're not friends. i actively put you in danger by trying to exposing you. why would you want me to say?" wes explained still not processing the question.

"because you helped me." danny said. continued to explain when he saw wes' confused look.

"if you actually wanted to hurt me you would left me to perish or expose me at my lowest but instead you stole my phone to call for backup."

"also gave blood while being afraid of needles" sam added.

"also uncharacteristically you were quiet the whole time you were helping, you listened to us without questioning." tucker stated.

"so? what? are you gonna give me the 'not much of an asshole as i couldve been' award?"

"no, we're giving you a chance to be less much of an asshole. like a second chance." danny explained.

"it still doesnt make any sense. why would you-" wes started to argue.

"wes just shut up and join us for the day, okay?" danny said with a faint smile. wes looked at the trio. they seemed genuine.

"okay."

wes never knew he had so many common interests with the trio. they talked for hours, never excluding wes from the conversations and explaining stuff if he didnt understand.

he felt good.

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

What the Boyds were like as children? (don't know if you did this one already)

Steve Murphy: He was kind of an unruly kid, actually! He got a lot more obedient around middle school (the opposite of what usually happens!), but before that he was stubborn, rambunctious, and had bursts of hyperactivity.

Donald Pierce: Pierce was an imaginative kid! He was a big reader (comics and fantasy books were his favorites) and he was a bit of a daydreamer. He was usually fairly obedient, but he definitely had his surly moments as well. I think before his stepdad entered the picture he was kind of a neglected kid - he was alone around the house a lot, had to learn to cook for himself and do fix-its around the house. This didn’t make him especially independent though - instead it kind of left him anxious and needy (although he tried to hide that around his mom).

Cap Hatfield: Him and his brother would tumble around and roughhouse like feral wolves, but other than that he was the perfect angel - so sweet and helpful!

Clement Mansell: You know, I think Clement was actually a pretty quiet and unhappy child. I suspect a lot of it was due to his fraught relationship with his mom - at points when he was real young they were *so* close, almost like siblings, and there were absolutely periods, even years later, where she could be lovely and caring. Unfortunately she also had nasty mood swings and often had a rotating assortment of strange men at the house. Clement often felt like he was walking on eggshells around her, and the men set him on edge. That constant tension and the eventual resentment it created was such a bad combo for him as a kid.

Eli Klaber: He was a surprisingly happy kid! He grew up in a pretty poor neighborhood, but he was such a cute kid and a few older girls absolutely doted on him when he was little. He was also a bit of a thief - he’d shoplift on occasion, but he especially liked to sneak into empty houses and swipe pretty things from jewelry boxes and closets. Sometimes he kept them for himself, sometimes he gave them to the girls as gifts. For some reason, I’m picturing him as the youngest in a pack of siblings that mostly forget he exists.

Danny Maguire: He was such a spoiled, bratty kid! But you know, I bet he sometimes got so wistful imagining himself having the kind of average suburban life he saw on TV shows (his dad berated him for being ungrateful the few times he mentioned this, so he stopped). He did not have many friends until he was a teenager.

Ty Shaw: Absolutely the sort of kid that had to grow up fast, but despite that, he was such a cheerful and playful kid too! He had a lot of friends, and liked to run around and go on adventures, and he actually enjoyed a lot of the household chores his sister resented they had to do.

Quinn McKenna: Quinn learned how to mask better, and become marginally more popular in high school (being athletic helps!), but as a kid he was precocious and prickly. He threw tantrums at home that his parents found exasperating, and in school the other kids thought he was an unfriendly know-it-all.

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Notice But Hoping For The Best Part 4

Mister Lancer is the first person to truly say something is wrong with Daniel Fenton. That boy was never the most attentive student- He was loud and prone to goofing off with his friends in the back, though he wasn't too disruptive- but he was a good student. If it was a topic he was passionate about, such as science- something he certainly got from his parents- or when they covered the stars? He went from being a good student to one of the best, though he never quite beat his older sister Jasmine's performances.

Which was why the change was enough to spot and be a cause for genuine concern; at least, now it was. Though it may not seem like it, and though he may struggle to be unbiased, Lancer truly cared for his students. So when Danny started turning in work with poor handwriting that was at times hard to read, he started grading harsher. When he started sleeping in class, he made sure to wake the boy up and at the very least give him a mild verbal slap on the wrist. It seemed like the youngest Fenton was randomly deciding to slack off, which Lancer would not tolerate in his class!

Then the worry started to set in as his condition slowly, day by day, ended up deteriorating. At first, it was the messier clothes, the food-stained shirt and poorly tied shoes. Alright, miss Manson was probably the one behind his style, then, and her family randomly deciding to extend their trip meant clothes likely weren't Daniel's first concern. But then it became more serious, looking like he was struggling to brush his hair before coming to school, small tics with his hands- well, usually only his left hand- that he quickly pressed the other hand to suppress and hide, and random twitches that seemed to be focused more around his left side, but were echoed- albeit much weaker- on his right as well. The fact it seemed to coincide with the decreasing quality of his handwriting was very telling, and the fact the deterioration started when the ghosts began attacking... It was easy to sense something was going to break soon.

The break was both sooner- and more literal- than expected, when they were doing a lab for science class. Everything was going normally, Lancer wasn't paying close attention to anyone in particular, he simply happened to glance over at the youngest Fenton. Because of that, he was the only one to see his arm spasm, his fingers twitch and open reflexively- unwillingly. It was the breaking of the beaker that made everyone else turn to look after that. "Danny, clean up the glass and see me after class- and for the love of Shakespeare, don't handle any more of the glassware." He almost felt guilty after seeing just how close to tears that boy was at the order.

Daniel looked like he'd just predicted yet another ghost attack as he stood by his desk after class. Usually it would be a lecture, a detention, some form of punishment- but not today. Given who his parents were, what their jobs were and the fact the Fentons were targeting the ghosts with so much aggression- they were zealous in their work even before, but now there was a concern this was something much more personal. "Calm down, you're not in trouble-" Perhaps he had been a bit too harsh, given how the dark haired teen suddenly relaxed, as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "-we just need to talk about something."

Asking about what had happened with the ghosts and what sort of injury they had caused Danny felt personal. Especially since his parents were so aggressive about going after the ectoplasmic creatures now. Lancer knew he needed to be diplomatic about this, for once carefully selecting his words. "I won't ask for any details, but clearly something has happened." It seemed his student was growing anxious again, but he continued. "I have been harsh due to believing you were slacking off, but if this is a genuine problem, it's my job as an educator to make sure any special requirements you have are met. Now, the ban on you handling glassware will exist and stay in place-" There was an almost painful look of loss in Danny's eyes at that. "-however, you will be given paper assignments you can fill out instead of doing the lab. Partner with someone and watch the experiment, then fill out the sheet your given. Every time you submit a written assignment, I would like you to stay back and help me read it; your handwriting is like another language to me. Understood?" A nod. Daniel was never this silent... It was disconcerting. "Good. You're dismissed." The only words were a mumbled 'thank you' before he left. It was almost... Heartbreaking.

Lancer noticed, he would try to assist, but he could only hope for the best. After all, the Fentons were taking care of things, and while they were... wild, to put it mildly, they were good people. Of course they'd get their son the proper care.

Previous Next

[ofthecaravel]

I'd Rather Be With You

Sequel to But You Look So Cool

Summary: Happy (????) Holidays!

Tags: Being home with your family for the holidays, The Twins conspiring, shame, doubt, arguing, Danny being a saint, NSFW at the very very end for like 2 secs

Words: 3k

A/N: Itty bitty holiday sequel to my most beloved! Wanted to touch more on Sam's family dynamic and what they've been up to since we left them. Thanks for reading MWAH

~~~

“Oh, my God, you were serious.”

“Did you think I was lying?”

“I mean, a little! Can you blame me?”

The Kiszka twins -home for the holidays, clutching wine glasses, and peeking around a doorway- were struggling to understand just what they were seeing. Not only had Sam brought someone home for Christmas (which is something they had never, ever expected from him, at least not in the state he’d been in for the past couple of years), but he had brought Danny Wagner. Danny fuckin’ Wagner, who stuck out in their collective consciousness for being a consistent presence during their Sunday school days and very briefly being the solitary member of their high school’s golf team. A nice, well adjusted boy with a nice, well adjusted family that he could easily be spending a much merrier Christmas Eve with. But here he was, laughing in the quiet living room of the Kiszka household and going through a photo album with Sam and their sister.  

“Crazy,” Jake murmured into a sip of his wine, shaking his head slightly as Josh nodded thoughtfully next to him. 

“It’s not like I’m mad he’s here,” Josh added, his eyebrows still high in surprise. “It’s just funny to see him next to Sam.”

They did admittedly look a little out of place nestled shoulder to shoulder. Danny’s smiling face was aglow with a wine drunk blush, snuggled up in a well fitting blue sweater and his hair tucked dotingly behind his ear. Sam, on the other hand, had his knees clad in oil stained mechanics pants and pulled up to his chin, looking not unlike an anxious pretzel as he chewed on his thumb and rested his head on Danny’s shoulder. 

“He pierced his ears,” Josh noted as he wiped some crumbs off the chest of his sweater. “Ya think Sam had something to do with that?”

“Definitely,” Jake smiled, his lips still stuck to the lip of his glass. “He probably did it for him. He’s gonna corrupt that sweet kid. Poor guy.”

“He’s been doing better,” Josh argued on behalf of his baby brother. “He’s got a job and his own place now. I swear Mom was gonna start charging him rent.”

“She would never,” Jake hummed, tuning in to the sound of their mother in the kitchen, talking to someone on the phone as dishes clinked in the sink. “He could crash the car into the house and she’d forgive him.”

“I guess the standards have been set pretty low,” Josh mumbled. Jake sighed a little and Josh cringed at his own words, slotting another cookie into his mouth and pulling out his phone.

He’d meant it as a joke, but it was still weird to even allude to everything that had gone down with their dad. It was hard to ignore, mostly when they were all together. It made it all the more obvious that someone was missing from the equation. Sure, he was a phone call away, but none of the siblings really wanted to talk to him. The twins were already graduating when their dad had been arrested, and they quickly escaped the immediate fallout with the titles of valedictorian, salutatorian, and two full ride scholarships that they rode the hell out of town. Ronnie had escaped into time with their mom and a myriad of friends to disappear in. And Sam…Sam had found his escape in means that only added to the fallout of the situation. 

So, yeah. The joke didn’t land. 

Especially during December. The family that used to fill their house simply didn’t bother to come by anymore, leaving only the immediate family to desperately try and revive a festive cheer that none of them really believed in anymore. Sam had barely attended the past few gatherings, and Jake and Josh had skipped them altogether under the pretense of their busy lives and jobs in Detroit. So imagine the oddity of having someone know all of the tension that would come with their awful little Christmas party and deciding to come anyway. 

“It’s just weird, dude,” Jake said plainly, finishing off his drink and setting it down loudly. “Kinda thought we’d be the ones bringing people home to try and fill the silence.”

“He’s making us look bad,” Josh chuckled, making a fond noise in response to seeing Danny give Sam a quick kiss to the forehead. “Look at that! What witchcraft has he been cooking up in his shitty little basement to swing that?”

“Love potions,” Jake responded in a silly voice and they both erupted into harmonizing giggles. 

The three on the couch looked up in confusion at them, which only made them laugh harder. Sam bristled instantly and Danny turned to see his eyes flicker with insecurity before glazing into a cold glinting squint.

“Shut the fuck up!” Sam barked, immediately (and correctly) assuming they were laughing at his expense.

“Sam!” their mom yelled from the kitchen, and Sam immediately closed his mouth and continued to glare stormily at his snorting brothers. 

“What’s funny?” Danny asked innocently, applying a gentle pressure to Sam’s shoulder with his own to try and calm him a little. Sam had been touchy for days leading up to this and Danny was honestly running out of ideas on how to soothe him.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jake said coolly, turning his back on them to return a bottle to their bar cart.

“He’s drunk,” Josh accused teasingly, exchanging an amused look with Danny that made Danny ease up ever so slightly.

“He’s an idiot,” Ronnie quipped, which Sam passionately nodded in agreement with. 

“You’re an idiot,” Jake retorted, his words carrying no bite as he and his sister traded mocking faces at each other while Danny watched with a shy smile. While the bickering continued, he looked over at Sam and melted a little at the sight. Around his siblings, Sam seemed smaller and softer than when he was trying to put on a suave front when he was on his own. Danny had obviously seen through that facade over a year ago, but Sam still attempted to carry himself with that same edge that Danny had fallen for but never really bought. However, in his childhood home surrounded by family and the ghosts of dynamics established long ago, there was no hiding for Sam. He was a little boy in a leather jacket being picked on lovingly by his big brothers and sister, and while Danny knew that Sam was going to be annoyed for the rest of the night, he really couldn’t help but find the whole scene adorable. 

“Danny is very tired and we are going to bed!” Sam finally shouted over his jabbering siblings, holding onto Danny’s arm and tugging to try and get him to his feet. 

“Aw, lame, Sam, come on!” Jake cackled while Danny gave Sam a look of confusion and amusement as they both stood up. “We were all gonna stay up until midnight and throw rocks at Santa’s sleigh.”

“I thought we were seducing him,” Josh complained, clearly much more into his idea. 

“Well, give him my number, then,” Sam countered. “Or throw a rock in my honor. I can’t be around you assholes for a minute longer.”

“That’s not very festive of you, Sammy,” Ronnie frowned, pulling on his sleeve as Sam attempted to shuffle Danny across the room almost as if he were a human shield. “Come on, stay.”

“I really am tired,” Danny said with remorse, giving all of Sam’s siblings a sincerely sympathetic smile. “But we’ll be up bright and early for presents, I promise.”

“You’re the sweetest, Danny,” Jake replied, clapping Danny on the back as they passed. “Don’t know why you bother with this street urchin.”

Sam rolled his eyes but Danny felt the genuine shiver of irritation from him as Josh and Ronnie hummed similar sentiments about Danny and Sam being…Danny and Sam.  

“Goodnight, you guys,” Danny bid them, giving a little wave as Sam practically dragged him up the stairs. 

--

They had all tossed him enthusiastic and properly festive goodnights as he chuckled and let himself get pulled along by Sam, who let out a frustrated sigh the second they were out of earshot. Danny only got a moment of appreciating the cute, vintage wallpaper of the hallway and the childhood photos hung up before Sam pulled him into his old bedroom and closed the door noisily behind them. Sam immediately collapsed face first into his pillow and let out a muffled groan while Danny cracked his neck and did a little perimeter walk of the room. He ghosted his fingers over posters ripped haphazardly out of magazines and Scotch taped to the wall and sun bleached science fair ribbons. Sam let out another noisy sigh while Danny continued to dote on every tchotchke and think with red cheeks about another time he’d surveyed Sam’s room while Sam vied for his attention. 

“They only razz you because they love you, baby,” Danny hummed, finally turning away from the sweetly dorky photos of Sam and his school peers to smile at Sam sprawled dramatically on his twin bed. 

“I wish they would do it in a way that didn’t remind me I’m such a fantastic fuck up,” Sam spat bitterly, flipping so he was staring up at the ceiling. His eyes were flat and dark in the way that Danny had seen for so many years and his heart fluttered sadly as he sat on the edge of the bed and put a reassuring hand on Sam’s cheek. Sam immediately let out a little huff and nuzzled against his palm.

“You’re really warm,” Danny noted simply as he felt the heat brewing on Sam’s skin.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m fucking pissed off,” Sam muttered, rolling his eyes dismissively and shaking his head slightly as he stared at the wall and allowed Danny to swipe his thumb over his cheek and smooth his hair.

“You’re not a fuck up, Sam. I hate hearing you say that,” Danny assured Sam, using every ounce of sincerity in his body when he said it. Sam didn’t answer, simply continuing to chew on his lip and petulantly avoid eye contact. 

“Hey, can you look at me when I’m talking to you?” Danny asked sternly.

“Can you stop pretending like I’m some pathetic wimp fishing for a compliment?” Sam snapped, pulling Danny’s hand off of his face and rearranging himself again to stare into the expanse of the room. Danny recoiled slightly, unable to fend off the sting of Sam rejecting his kindness. But after a year of learning how to navigate Sam’s many tantrums and categorizing the roots of the meltdowns, he knew that Sam didn’t mean to hurt him. He never did. 

“Sammy,” Danny said softly, moving further onto the bed and tucking his feet under Sam’s legs. “I know you were really hesitant to come and do this at all.”

“They just make me so mad,” Sam whispered. “There’s just, like, this hole whenever we’re all together. Dad, I mean. His stupid choices and then, you know, my stupid choices. I don’t…I don’t want to be another empty space for them. And I feel like no matter what I do, I’m gonna be that.”

Danny couldn’t stand to give Sam his space for a second longer. He lowered himself to lay behind Sam and Sam immediately turned and buried his head into the crook of Danny’s neck, the both of them awkwardly entangling to keep Sam as close as possible to Danny’s chest while they clung together. There weren’t any tears from Sam, but Danny could feel the shudder in his thin chest as he fought to even out his breathing and calm down.

“And then,” Sam continued weakly, his voice high with emotion as he stumbled over his words frantically. “They’re giving me all that shit about how great you are and how you don’t belong with me. Like I don’t already know that. Fuck, Danny, I’m sorry but I agree with them. You deserve so much better than me and my-”

“Sam-”

“I’m serious, I swear I’m just waiting for you to wake up and realize I’m an asshole with-”

“Sam.” 

Sam, ever the obedient listener even in the midst of a full blown rant, cut himself off with a ragged exhale and pressed his mouth against Danny’s neck to silence himself. Danny held the back of his head and rested his lips right next to Sam’s ear, resisting the urge to nip his earlobe like he usually did when he was this close. 

“Sam,” Danny whispered, soft and smooth and steady. “You know I love you. You know I hate hearing you talk about yourself like this. I know you’ve had a lot of trouble coping with everything since your dad went away, and I know you made a lot of choices that you’re not proud of. But, I mean, you were a kid. A really hurt kid. And you’ve been trying so hard to change from the person you were and frankly, I can hardly believe you can’t see how much you’ve grown in this past year alone. You’re amazing.”

Sam sniffled slightly and burrowed up further against Danny. Danny smiled, his mind fuzzy with fondness as he thought about every instance that proved his own point. Sam, who quietly leafed through self help books rented from the library and wrote down all the tips and tricks he could because he was so determined to stop picking fights with anyone and everyone. Sam, who taught himself to cook with nothing but the cooking channel and the goal of having a new dish for Danny to try every week. Sam, who had worked infuriating shifts at the mechanics to pay for the lovingly hand picked presents for his family that now lay under the tree downstairs. Sam, who Danny loved more than anything.

“You should be with a good man,” Sam breathed, barely audible. “You’re gonna die wishing you hadn’t wasted so much time on me.”

“Good men die too,” Danny replied with a disbelieving laugh. “I’d rather be with you.”

Danny felt Sam’s lips smile slightly against his skin and he kissed his temple, still gently cupping the back of his silken head as his other hand absently doodled soothing shapes on the considerable curve of Sam’s back. If his hand dipped any lower, he’d be tracing the inky wings of the lower back tattoo Sam had surprised him with a few months back. Danny’s cheeks burned thinking about it for a moment too long and he channeled the warmth into pressing more kisses against Sam’s hair.

After a few minutes of silence, Sam pulled away just enough to look up at Danny through his starry lashes and give him a lovelorn smile. 

“Thank you,” Sam whispered sincerely, tucking a frizzy wave behind Danny’s ear with his deft calloused fingers. “I’m sorry for spinning out on you.”

“Family makes everybody crazy,” Danny shrugged, reaching up between them to lightly hold Sam’s chin with his thumb and forefinger. “And you never have to apologize. I’m happy to help.”

Danny tried and failed to smother his smile watching Sam’s pupils blow wide with affection as Danny kept a hold on his jaw. 

“I love you, Sammy,” Danny purred, teasingly brushing his nose against Sam’s. “And for the record, I have never once thought you were bad. You’re actually very, very good.”

“How good?” Sam asked bashfully, his lips parting to let out a shaky smiling breath as he playfully pressed his finger against Danny’s lip. If there was one thing Sam loved, it was hearing mountains and mountains of praise from Danny. And with all things considered, Danny figured he was owed it in.

“So good,” Danny grinned, tapping Sam’s nose. “You’ve always been so good for me, Sammy, right from the start. Such a good listener especially. So gentle and kind and nothing but good. And so, so pretty.”

“Now you’re just buttering me up,” Sam murmured with flushed cheeks, still staring unabashedly at Danny’s lips.

“I’m serious,” Danny rasped, his hand moving to properly cup Sam’s jaw with his fingers pressed right behind his ear. “If I had known how well you take direction, I probably would’ve started bossing you around a lot sooner.”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly and Danny knew he was teetering on the edge of falling deep into a sweet, needy headspace that he’d initially been shocked to uncover. But these days? He counted on it. 

“You want me to boss you around a little, baby?” Danny asked gently. “Do you want to forget your hard night and let me do the thinking for a little bit? And then you can wake up nice and happy on Christmas morning and open all the presents I got you. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” Sam breathed desperately. “Please.” 

Despite his impatience, he always knew what Danny wanted to hear from him.

“I didn’t even have to ask you to say please,” Danny delighted, finally giving Sam a kiss but pulling away far too quickly to whisper again. “You’re gonna have to be quiet, okay? I know that’s not your strong suit but we can’t have anyone hearing all your cute little noises.”

Sam nodded eagerly and, with both hands firmly planted on the sides of Danny’s head, pulled Danny into a much longer kiss that had Danny readjusting to pin Sam under him. Under any normal circumstance, Danny would’ve had Sam by the throat for grabbing him the way he did. He would’ve had him on his knees until there were tears in his eyes showing Danny how sorry he was for getting handsy without asking Danny first. But maybe Danny was feeling the holiday spirit a little more than usual and decided to show Sam some mercy. He’d bring it up later after Sam had the nice, black necktie Danny had gifted him as an early present wrapped around his wrists. 

“Love you,” Sam murmured dreamily against Danny’s lips as Danny put his weight on his knees and began moving his hands up to smooth over Sam’s chest and play with his waistband.

“Love you too,” Danny echoed with a mischievous smile. 

He didn’t give the chance for Sam to speak again before his palm muffled Sam’s chatty mouth and stifled his growls and whines until the first rose flush of dawn stretched over the newfallen snow and the lovesick boys tangled in a creaky little bed.

--

[clarkeybabey]

❝ no seriously get your hands off my man ❞

summary; you don't like the way she acts around him playlist; miss possessive - tate mcrae word count; 1.2k note; this is for @raekensluver as she is in her miniminter era rn, no one else asked for this so its very much self-indulgent, back to our regular scheduled program after this one.

You and Simon enjoyed many parties in your time, much more when you were younger but, if you hadn't shown up for the charity match after-party he would've been given quite a bit of shit as he took charge of setting up almost everything. He's not stopped beaming since he woke you up yesterday with a coffee in hand for you, ensuring you knew it was nearly time to get going so everyone would be checked into the hotel before training.

Danny makes his way over, Ten's arm hooked with his, a blonde girl whose face is vaguely familiar in tow, "Simon!" Danny dabs him up pulling him in to aggressively clap him on the back, Your husband stumbles slightly before straightening up. They go into a loud conversation about the match attempting to speak over the bass-boosted music.

Tennessee and the nameless girl ogling at Simon sidestep around the two men over to you, "Ten, darling, you are glowing," you pause to kiss her cheek before continuing, "And admirable, can't believe you're out. I'd rather be under several duvets and I'm not pregnant." She smiles, shaking her head, "Glowing, no, oily, absolutely. Wouldn't miss it, Danny's floored." The girl behind her clears her throat, reminding you both of her looming presence.

"This is Emma Moran, she was on locked in with us," and that's when it hit you. The insufferable woman from Locked In who couldn't seem to keep her hands to herself when it came to the guys on there with even the slightest bit of clout or interest in anyone but her. She wanted attention, negative or positive, in her eyes any of it would do.

You nod along as she fangirls over your husband and his friends, he had fans so this was nothing new but she seemed to discuss solely followers and how she had been trying to get in on a Sidemen shoot or their podcast since the end of the show but never had success. "Maybe you could put in a word," she smiles too big for it to be real, you find yourself unable to control the way your face twists.

Her blue eyes flit from you to him a few times before settling on his face, "Uh, I can't really do much, I mean, I can mention you?" The words come off your tongue sounding unintentionally bitter, "They honestly do their own thing guest wise, I'm just his wife."

"That'd be nice, thank you," you smile, albeit tight-lipped, the next thing she says catches you completely off guard and based on how her brows knit together, Tennessee was thrown off just as much as you: "He is very nice to look at isn't he?" You narrow your eyes in her direction, doing your best to let the comment roll right off your back, he gets that from hundreds of thousands of girls daily. "Yeah, he is. One of the reasons I married him."

Silence quickly falls among you, and Simon, being only an arm's length away, picks up immediately on your now stiffened form and the abrupt ending of the conversation. Emma senses the awkward tension within the circle "Think I'm gonna go get a drink." Her grin resembles the Cheshire cat as she saunters off to the drink table, and poor Arthur Hill gets roped into a conversation with her.

The hazel-eyed girl watches her slip through the crowd of people and once she deems her out of earshot she's quick to let apologies flow, "I'm so sorry about her, she's so odd." You shake your head, giving her shoulder a squeeze, "Her actions are not your responsibility, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"No really, I knew I shouldn't have introduced her," she fidgets with her fingers quickly becoming anxious, "Ten, it's not your fault. I'm fine, I promise." Fine, yes, shocked at her audacity, absofuckinglutely.

Warmth creeps up your neck and soon your whole face feels hot, but you continue the lighthearted conversation with your friend, trying your best to relay how fine you thought you were. You're partial to crashing out in the middle of a party celebrating your best friends but if you could see her undressing Simon with her eyes at that moment, that feeling might just change.

Your ears perk as Danny excuses himself, wanting to mingle with some others Tennessee mutters more apologies as she follows behind her fiancee. "What was that about?" He quickly asks after they've stepped away. Rolling your eyes at the thought of what she said, your hand finds the back of his neck, ushering him down to your height.

"You see that girl over there?" He hums leaning into your touch, "She's your biggest fan, you know that?" another grunt of acknowledgment rumbles against your back, "Said you're nice to look at."

His bottom lip juts out and his brows shoot up, "Oh, really?" You tell him about how she was eyefucking him while you spoke with Tennessee and while you do so Simon's lips meet the exposed skin of your shoulder, his fingers graze over where his mouth just was, sliding the sequined strap of your little black dress down but not completely off.

Public displays of affection like this were few and far between, not due to a lack of admiration but because you loved so deeply it felt too nice to let the negativity of the outside world taint it. Even in the early years of your relationship back in school, you saved it for when it was just you two, now you keep it for when you know there are no cameras to be shoved in your face to capture such intimate moments. At this very second, something within you was staking its claim over him so everyone was aware he was not up for grabs.

"She's definitely watching," his warm breath fans over the place where your neck meets your shoulder, goosebumps rising in the wake of his words. You meet her baby-blue eyes from across the room, watching as her tongue darts out to wet her lips. He speaks up again, rubbing down your sides, to your hips getting dangerously close to the hem of your dress, "Why don't we get out of here?"

You sigh leaning back into him, "Yes please." He laces your fingers together, his thumb fiddling with your wedding ring, keeping you close as he makes his way through the sea of people.

You stop in your tracks unknowingly close to the refreshment table where she was last seen, "Shouldn't we say goodbye before," you cut yourself off at the sight of Emma's manicured hand on his bicep, "Simon, right?" she plays into faux oblivion, "I never got to introduce myself," before she can continue, he removes her hand from his arm stepping back from her.

He doesn't bother exchanging pleasantries, "I'd love to stay and chat, but we've really got to go." Her mouth hangs open before she can rack her brain for some form of rebuttal he's turned, tightening his grip on your hand. You can't help but turn giving her the same sickeningly sweet smile she shared with you earlier, following it up with a wave as you round the door and are out of sight.

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 2: Strange Hospitality

In which we return to the present day, where Danny finds a strange mansion in the woods while searching for her friend. Contains: ~2.8k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

The weather was not kind to Danny as she trudged through the woods, each footstep falling heavy and laboriously through the snow as she marched onward, fueled by a bitter spite towards whatever entity had decided she would not have an easy journey.

She couldn’t give up. The horse that Nathan had taken out of town this morning had returned, frightened and skittish, without him. It had taken all morning to calm it down enough to take out again. They had been traveling for so long that Danny had to walk beside it now, giving the poor horse a rest while he carried the meager supplies she’d scraped together at the last minute. 

She tried to follow the path Nathan should have taken towards the next town, keeping a vigilant eye out for any danger. All of his things had still been in the horse’s saddlebags, so it couldn’t have been bandits, right? Had the horse been spooked by a wild animal? Had they simply gotten separated? He would walk back the way he’d come if that was the case, wouldn’t he?

He’d look for shelter, or for someone to help. Maybe there’s a home somewhere along the way. 

Surely he’s alright. He has to be.

But Danny had traveled all day, and hadn’t seen a sign of Nathan anywhere on the road. No one she’d passed had seen anyone matching her description of Nathan, either, which only made her more and more anxious. The sun began to dip near the horizon, and the encroaching darkness brought with it a fresh wave of anxiety. She couldn’t turn back, not without Nathan. She had to find him.

“NATHAN!” she called out, desperately, hopelessly. She couldn’t just yell his name out here in the middle of nowhere and expect a response. She did it anyway. “NATE!” 

“Hello? Are you okay?” 

She stopped in her tracks abruptly, so surprised by the voice that she almost didn’t realize she’d heard one in the first place. It wasn’t Nathan—and she couldn’t quite place where it had come from. She whipped her head this way and that, but all she could see immediately were snow-covered trees. 

“Where are you?” she called out, against her better judgment. Strangers in the woods were usually things you tried to avoid, but she was desperate—she had to take her chances with anyone who could help her find her friend. 

She followed the voice’s direction a little further down the path, and to her left, hidden well amongst the trees and the snow, she finally saw it—a huge mansion surrounded by a large, iron gate, obviously the home of someone who was very rich and important. This far out in the woods, though? She supposed some of them must have homes out in the country for when they got bored of city life. 

The voice from earlier came again, but she still couldn’t see who its owner was. “You seem lost. Are you okay?” 

Oddly, she couldn’t tell if the voice even belonged to a man or a woman, not without a face to go with it. Even so, it sounded young, and…fairly trustworthy, or at least, feigning a genuine enough concern.

“I’m…I’m looking for a friend. He was traveling this way earlier today…his name is Nathan Hayes. Have you seen anyone, by chance?”

The voice didn’t reply for a moment. Danny moved closer to the gate, cautiously, searching the mansion’s grounds for anyone who could have spoken to her. And then, she watched in wonder as the gate swung open—almost of its own accord.

…maybe the wind blew it open?

“I think I can help you find your friend. Would you like to come inside?” 

There was absolutely no way in hell this wasn’t the same kind of setup as every nightmarish fairy tale Nathan had ever told her—getting lost in the woods, wandering into some strange house, and then getting eaten by a witch or chased by bears or cursed by some fairy queen. 

She glared at the gate with a very heavy dose of suspicion. “What makes you say that, huh? How can you help me find him?” 

Another pause. “Because I’ve seen him. Curly brown hair, freckles, green shirt, right?”

Danny felt her heart drop into her stomach. “T-that’s him! You’ve seen him? Where? When? And…where are you? Why can’t I see you?” 

“I’m inside,” the voice simply said—which frankly should have been a lie, because the front door to the mansion was pretty far down the path, and this voice was as clear as if it was right next to her. Danny, unfortunately, didn’t have a better explanation to refute the claim. “I can explain more if you come in? It’s getting late—you shouldn’t travel at night. It’s dangerous.” 

I can’t argue with that, she thought sullenly. Though it’s just as dangerous to trust strangers like you. There was no doubt, though, that this person—whoever they were—had seen Nathan, at least. Danny had no choice—she needed to accept whatever help this person had to offer, no matter how strange. She had nothing else to go on.

She took a deep breath and made her way to the opened gate, pulling her horse along.

The horse stopped before the gate, kicking up his hooves and letting out a frightened whinny, refusing to go any further towards the house.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, Buddy! It’s okay.” Danny tried to soothe him, but it was useless—no amount of coaxing was going to get the horse to calm down, it seemed. She didn’t know what had gotten him so worked up—but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better about listening to the strange voice.

I don’t have a choice. I have to find Nathan.

She tied Buddy’s reins to the fencepost—lest he run off again and leave her stranded in the woods as well—before heading down the path alone.

The grounds of this mansion, now that she could get a closer look, seemed to be well-maintained. A fountain sat a short ways down, the water frozen over it in an icy, solid waterfall. Hedges lined the yard, covered in a heavy layer of snow. There were even what appeared to be topiary animals here and there.

Rich people really do have the weirdest hobbies. 

She finally reached the mansion itself—a hulking, obscenely elaborate building of dark stone and sharp, twisted spires, like a grand cathedral instead of a place someone actually lived in. Ivy crawled up the edges of the worn brick, giving the whole place the feeling of being terribly old. 

Danny had never been afforded many luxuries in life—the modest house on their farm was a luxury in and of itself. This was far beyond her understanding of how any normal person could live. How much money did a place like this even cost? 

She took a few more cautious steps towards the huge front doors, which loomed before her in all their ornate beauty. There were patterns carved into the wood, elaborate etchings that curled their way all the way down and around a pair of huge, equally elaborate brass door knockers. 

A shiver ran down her spine, but she wrote it off as a gust of winter wind that snapped at her then, rustling her traveling cloak in its wake. 

She reached out for one of the door knockers, but before her hand could touch it, the door opened wide towards her. 

It was dark inside of the house—too dark to see much besides some sort of entryway awaiting her, and what looked like a grand staircase further in. She didn’t see anyone on the other side, strangely. 

“Hello?” she called out, waiting on the porch for an answer. 

“Come in,” the voice insisted, friendly and bright. “Sorry it’s a little dark, I’ll get things lit up for you.”

The voice seemed to have floated further inside the house, and so, with one last, decisive breath, she decided to follow it, and stepped over the threshold.

And immediately, she fell flat on her face. 

Something had rushed to her head almost immediately that had caused such a spell of sudden dizziness—almost a vertigo of some sort, like she’d fallen from some great height instead of just walking into a house. The split-second flash of memory she had retained from before the fall was quickly brushed away, written off as the ridiculous concoction of a brain that didn’t have the capability to walk in a straight line.

She quickly rose to her feet in shame, straightening her cloak and looking around for anyone who would have beared witness to her fall.

Suddenly, though, embarrassment was the least of her concerns.

This was not the same house she’d seen from outside the open door—the tiles below her were the same, the entryway stood before her, yes, but the problem was that everything was built for a fucking giant. 

The edge of the floor tile she was on now stretched on—it had been small enough to step over in one stride, and now it seemed to be as wide as her whole house. The ceiling rose above her, taller than a grand cathedral, much taller than the outside of the building suggested. She thought that a mountain could fit within this space comfortably, and the more she looked up, the dizzier she became. She tried to avert her eyes to something that made sense, but everywhere she looked brought an even further sense of terror. Everything, every chair, every window, every door frame and odd object scattered about seemed to be designed for someone easily a hundred feet tall, maybe more. 

She found that she had frozen in place, and as she looked behind her frantically, as if to catch a glimpse of the outside world to see if she was in a crazy dream or not, she saw the door—now rising so far above her that it would have been an impossible feat to reach the door knocker from before—closed shut on its own.

As if to fight against the sudden lack of air in her lungs, she took in a forceful inhale of breath—though what to do with it, she hadn’t decided. Screaming didn’t seem productive, not yet, and she wasn’t sure whether she was angry at having been deceived, or simply awestruck at whatever magic she’d stumbled into. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t panic.”

“I am NOT panicking,” Danny gasped, almost sounding offended at the notion as she did her best to stifle the hysteria rising in her throat.

She still didn’t see anyone nearby—which, frankly, maybe she should be thankful for. Oddly, the strange voice didn’t seem to come from high above her, as she imagined it might have if it had belonged to a giant. It almost sounded as if it came from right beside her, like there was another person standing just to her right—but there was nothing, except for a huge, stone vase next to the door that held a bouquet of flowers that rose higher above her than any tree she’d ever seen.

“It’s okay. I know it’s…a little weird.” 

“A-a little weird? You’ve got to be fucking with me,” Danny muttered, her eyes still casting about the room as though it might make sense the longer she took it all in. “What kind of crazy-ass house is this?” 

“It was built about three hundred years ago, and takes some influence from Baroque design-”

“I’m talking about the GIANT FUCKING EVERYTHING,” Danny blurted out, waving her arms around as if maybe the owner of the voice needed help seeing what she did. “How the fuck is this possible?”

“Uh…magic?” the voice supplied, semi-helpfully. 

Danny sighed, relinquishing the breath they’d taken in a weary, frazzled exhale. They couldn’t argue with that.

She gasped as a series of lamps far above her along the walls lit themselves up along the inside of the room, illuminating the space even more. She’d almost not noticed it from her vantage point earlier, but there was a gigantic staircase a ways ahead of her in the middle of the room, made of dark wood with a red fabric runner going down its length and spilling out onto the floor at the bottom. It rose up to the second level of the house, its railings intricately carved and oiled, with enormous wooden birds of a species she didn’t recognize adorning the bottom of the railing like perched gargoyles. A huge chandelier lit up directly above her as well, dripping with fine crystal far above like the stars in the sky had formed into one dazzling constellation. 

She stared in awe, a little of the initial shock making way for what might have been amazement. It truly was grand, and far fancier than anything she’d ever seen before. If only she didn’t have to crane her neck to actually see half of it—and if only she wasn’t also given the new and rather unwelcome perspective of what a bug might see before it was unceremoniously crushed under someone’s heel.

“It’s a real nice place, isn’t it?” 

The voice no longer came from her right, but from her other side—though, unsurprisingly at this point, there was nothing there but a small (relative to the house, not to her) table. 

“Y-yeah, it’s uh, it’s pretty fancy,” she relented, trying to settle her frantic heartbeat with what she’d come here for in the first place. “So, can you tell me what you know about Nathan? Do you know if he’s okay? Where are you?” She wondered if she would have to go wandering in this giant house—if this strange person was up the stairs or on the far side of the house, it could easily be a grand adventure of multiple days just to reach them, at her size. “Are you a…giant?”

“Nathan’s fine, he’s alright. And uh, no, I’m not a giant. But can I just say, you’re taking this really well so far.”

A few things seemed to rustle about, like a wind blew through an open window into the room. But none of the windows were open, so what made the curtains move like that?

“So…where is he? Is he here? Can you take me to him?”

Another chill ran down her spine like an ill omen, and she didn’t have to wait long to figure out what such a premonition had warned her of. She could hear, just around the corner, the sound of hulking, huge footsteps, moving slowly towards the room she was in now.

A giant.

“Can you do me just one favor?” the voice whispered, and it felt now as though the invisible person stood right next to her ear. It sent a fresh wave of chills down her skin, raising goosebumps along it, and she stood silently, frozen in place. “I’ll help you find Nathan as long as you don’t scream when you see this guy.” 

“W-when I see who?” Danny muttered harshly, her head beginning to frantically turn this way and that as she looked for the danger her body warned her about, her heart’s tempo increasing with every second. 

“The master of the house,” the voice said simply. Danny felt a sudden, almost tangible absence then—as if there really had been some sort of invisible person beside them, and they’d just…disappeared. 

She steeled herself for what she was about to see, doing her best to quiet the rising panic inside of her as the footsteps grew closer. It felt almost as though each step shook the whole place, though certainly that was only due to how utterly dwarfed she was by everything. It was like she could feel the vibrations of each step in her chest as the sound echoed hollowly in the huge, empty house. 

And then he made his appearance around the corner from a room further down, his eyes landing squarely and immediately on her—though as he caught sight of her, he remained standing where he was, as if he was simply observing her from a distance.

The man appeared to be young, not much older than her, with a slender, willowy frame and sharp, dark eyes. His dark black hair was done up in an elegant but simple updo, his hair twisted around on each side of his face and collected in a bun in the back. He wore a brocaded burgundy waistcoat atop a loose, white shirt—everything about him suggested an air of wealth and sophistication that fit the house he resided in. 

That, of course, and the fact that he was at least a hundred fucking feet tall. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Next Chapter ->

You've all seen the movie, so surely you all know it's going to go well in the next chapter, right?

Thanks for reading, and see you next week with chapter 3, Master of the House!

[whorrorbellee]

Cherry Waves : two and a half

Ghostface! Danny Johnson x f!reader

Danny just had to save you. He just had to save your poor sad life. Knocking your sad frail body against fake plastic tiles. Shoving his fingers down your throat like a kid fishing for pennies. What was it you wrote in your diary? Your shiny white masked knight in a black shroud? Well how cute. Maybe it was time he kept a pet around.Just to play or course.18+ : eventual smut, themes of suicide (reader attempts), selfharm, sexual content, murder, themes of violence

ao3 prolouge masterlist

 11th August 1992

Roseville sure is something. Hot weather, Sunny skies. Rednecks. Everything I had wanted to avoid until now. Utah was great, born and raised. Left poor pa alone in the farmhouse at nineteen. Burnt to a crisp, the detective said. Goddamn alcoholic could never remember to see if the fire had gone dead before laying his head down on the pillow. Too damn bad. 

Danny Johnson would become Martin Lee the small town photographer somewhere in Arizona, and then I was Jack Mayfield, the slightly deplorable stoner writer in california. But in Pennsylvania Jed Olson was born. Kind hearted, protective. Red blooded american that wanted to uphold traditional family values. The type of guy you'd see a pretty blonde next to with six kids. Jed Olson was perfect and fucking irritating. He was the type of guy you would ask to set up shelves in your apartment. And god i fucking hated it, i still do. At first Jed was sweet, he could lend a hand. Enjoyed a cold one. Then where's your girlfriend Jed? Or maybe you're gay? I've got a daughter you could take out some time? When are you gonna settle down?

So in New York Jed Became colder. But the problem with New york. Half of my work got lost to gang violence and hate crimes, by the time i had figured out who Jed really was, Ghostface had been lost in a lineup of violent Men and petty thefts. So I moved smaller. Florida. Small baptist town wedge between Jacksonville and St. Augustine. You could hardly call it a town, in reality it was a housing estate with ten shops lined up, a couple of offices and three different churches, two within the town and the third connected to a road that led you straight out of roseville and into St.Augustine. It was perfect. Enough crazies to not get caught, drive close enough that someone out of town could come in and kill. And small enough to cause a frenzine. 

So while I was in New York, I took as many freelance photography jobs as I could. Let myself wake up with cheap instant coffee and gouged myself on instant ramen, until I had enough to buy a truck from a guy I knew and road-trip myself down to florida. 

And here I was, a man with very little to say in the matter. Even though I had a way with words. It took me less than five minutes to wedge myself into the crew at roseville gazette. Mike had welcomed me with open arms after I had fooled him with my American values. White picket, 2.5 kids and a cute dog laid out on a plate for him to stuff his face with. 

12 September 1992. 

One month has passed and I'm settled in at last. Work is fine. Writing about lost dogs and people who've found rings along the shore. Work is boring. It's not really my work, well it is.  But not the work I really want to do. In-fact , I'm craving it. I'm not sure how long I'm going to last. Sometimes I just want to take Adam's face and crush it between the wall and the door in the stairwell. And I won't! God I could never. Well I could.  Just not Adam. Adam is great. He's really perfect. He's so anxious and erratic everytime a crime is committed. When I start and I mean really start (not drive to Georgia and kill some rando) he's just going to snap. Linda is great. She keeps to herself and writes pieces about Best places to take your family this (insert month) or should your kids be having sugar?. 

There's a list in my head of who I want to take out. I haven't started watching just yet. Need to get adjusted to the town properly. I've been going on runs every night. Keep the stamina up and find out every slip road and street I can hide on. To the others I'm in a health kick. Waving past dog walkers and drunk teens. James told me he saw me running outside his house and that he'd wanted to get together for an early morning run the next sunday. And now there's a group of us at 6am. I drive to the closest diner after and order the biggest breakfast platter they have. 

Case no: 289 D75   Date: 5th July 1984

Reporting officer: DC Smith

Prepared by: PC Stein

Incident: Fire at the Johnson’s farm house on 4th July 1984 at 11pm . 

Event details: I was attending the 4th of July celebrations with my girlfriend. After the fireworks stopped at around 10:45. The family packed up and I asked if she wanted to head back to mine. We got to the farm house and the place was on fire. The house was practically black. We went to the nearest phone so I could call the emergency services. 

I thought my dad might have gone out. But when the fire was put out, they recovered his body. When I left him he was on the sofa passed out. He usually drinks whiskey. I knew it was him because of the white gold wedding ring around his neck.

30th september 1992

So Mike's niece has officially started her job. Which has ruined all plans of me developing my own photos in the office. I'm sure she couldn't help it. Nepo babied her way into a job. Fresh out college and straight into the office. Didn't even have to have a shitty barista job first. She's shy and slightly skittish. Pays no attention to where she's going. Always tripping over her own feet. The good thing is now we have software to edit photos after mike bought a one year package to see how far it gets us. 

She lives next to me. I passed her in the stairwell and walked behind her on the way home. 

She doesn't crack a smile when I do. Hardly ever reactive. Emotionless. Faked a smile on her first day before curling inward on her desk to jot something down. 

An enigma. Uncharmable .

16th October 1992

I didn't mean to do it. I was just a little rusty. I don't have time for mistakes. And I panicked. I dont panic. I never have. What little humanity I have left in me is reserved for good coffee and books. So I climbed into the wrong window that night. Mine was one over. A complete accident. Someone had swung a brick at my face and knocked me sideways. So I was a little puzzled when the bare apartment I lived in had a shitty two seater armchair and a pretty girl laid on it. And I had nearly turned away. But the pill bottle had glowed under the moonlight and headlights of late night drivers. When I had picked them up and the out of date pills rattled inside. I looked upon the pretty girl who I thought was asleep. Breathing erratic. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Lying in a puddle of her own sweat. 

Well I just panicked. Picking up her body and rushing to the toilet. Scraped along plastic tiles. My hands held her up by her neck and I shoved two thick fingers down her throat until I had felt her gag. Barely held up by her knees. Watching her puke into the toilet. 

I should've left her there. Let the darkness swallow her up. Swelled in the bathroom. Let the police press a black body bag to her skin. Cracked tiled angel. Another lost to the hidden disease. And I gazed into her eyes, half shut. Her mouth opened as her head fell into the crook of my neck. Soft skin against the rough fabric of my shroud. I felt her heartbeat grow stronger. Poison exiting her body.

So instead I pressed her to the shower wall and washed her body, dressed her in the softest pyjamas I could find. Held her like my own. Held her like Piper wished I would. 

I won't make this mistake again.

[tinynerdz360]

Future Ghost Chapter 2

"Hey, Fenton," one of the fellow engineers said, catching him off guard. "What's your story? How'd you end up here?"

"Uh, well," Danny stammered, struggling to come up with a plausible explanation. "I've always been fascinated by space and engineering, so joining Starfleet seemed like the perfect fit." He forced a smile, hoping it would be enough to satisfy his curious peer.

"Interesting," the engineer mused before returning to his work, seemingly content with Danny's response.

As the days went on, Danny continued to excel in Engineering. But beneath the façade of the competent, young ensign lay an ever-present anxiety. He still felt out of place. He tried to keep up with his older peers. But he swore he saw suspicious glances regarding his age. Or the ever-present itch under his skin to use his powers. He hadn’t transformed in a while now. It felt like he needed to stretch and expand outside of his human body. Or the silent hum of his core demanding he help others or gaze out into stars and learn everything he could about space and what it held.

Danny loved meeting the alien crewmates. His core sang with happiness. He felt nervous and giddy; he just wanted to know everything about them.

And at night, lying in his bed, in his shared quarters. Listening to the snores of his roommate. His thoughts turned to his family and friends back home in the twenty-first century. He had reframed from looking them up, not wanting to know their fates or making an event set in stone. He feared finding that he had never returned home. Danny felt his stomach turn in homesickness. He missed Sam and Tucker. He longed for his sister and parents. As much as he enjoyed working and being in SPACE, he still longed for his family, and he feared there might be no returning home for him.

****

The engineering deck hummed with activity, the buzz of conversations and machinery creating a symphony of life. Danny moved through the chaos with practiced ease, the youngest ensign on the Enterprise fitting in seamlessly with his fellow crew members. The older engineers often doted on him, their affectionate pats on the back and words of encouragement fueling his determination to succeed. They would often tease him for looking much younger than eighteen.

"Great work on that plasma conduit, Ensign," Mr. Scott said, clapping Danny on the shoulder. "You've got a real knack for this."

"Thank you, sir," Danny replied, his cheeks flushing with pride. He had come to admire the chief engineer, and earning his praise was no small feat.

*****

During away missions, Danny took great care to conceal his ghost powers, using them only when necessary to protect his crewmates. On one hand, he loved away missions—for crying out loud, he got to go to alien planets! What more could he ask for?

But no, on every away mission, he was filled with anxiety; he could not relax. The fear of his fellow away members being in danger ate at him.

He could not ignore his crewmates when they faced danger. His core screamed at him to do something!

For this reason, he hated away missions. He felt anxious and hyper-aware of his fellow crew members. His sense became sharper. He was afraid his eyes would flash green more often. His eyes and ears were extra sharp for detecting alien dangers. He could feel his ghost sense stretch out and feel for other living beings. He could feel the emotions of those around him and the life force of every living creature in a 5-mile radius. In short, it was exhausting, but he was able to predict when his crewmates were in danger and step in. Every away mission he went on had a zero fatality rate.

On one such mission, he noticed a crew member getting trapped in a rockslide. The poor man was struggling to move a large boulder that had pinned his leg. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, Danny turned invisible, phased through the rock, and lifted it with ease, setting it down gently beside the injured man.

"Did you guys see that?" the crew member gasped, staring in disbelief at the sudden disappearance of the massive obstacle. "It was like...an invisible force just saved me!"

"Strange energy readings have been detected in this area," another crewmate mused, scanning the vicinity with his tricorder. "Perhaps we're not alone. Oh! What the fuck, where did Fenton go?”

Danny bit his lip, holding his breath as they discussed the mysterious incident. He floated around another giant rock, eased back into his human form, and popped out to greet his co-workers.

“Aw, I’m fine; I thought I saw something over there…..hey dude, are you ok? That’s wild and super weird; that boulder moved by itself. Do you think there’s some alien entity around?”

“Maybe, I got some weird readings. In fact, I just got another ping from where you just came from. Maybe you did see something?” The other ensign remarked. He wore a blue shirt marking him to the science department.

Danny awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Hehe, maybe, we should check it out, peaceful contact and all that, it must mean well, I mean it helped Miles.”

“Well, it could be many things; it might not be sentient. But worth checking out, we’ll have to add it to our report.”

Danny suppressed a sigh; it was going to be a long mission. And not his last. For some reason, Captain Kirk liked adding Danny to all the recent away missions. Danny hoped to Clockwork that Kirk hadn’t suspected anything.

And how could he? Maybe he had just taken a shine to him and his cheesy puns, Danny couldn’t help but tell. Danny kept getting nervous around his older co-workers and superior, so he resorted to telling cheesy jokes and puns, which earned him fond smiles and laughs.

Danny hoped the captain didn’t make a weird connection that he was the reason they had a low body count on away missions. He tried so hard to do everything invisibly. And he even got better at making his duplicates. He hated making duplicates; it was so hard to have his attention and memory literally split in two and do different tasks. It was one of his weakest abilities. He could only manage up to three. He had no idea how Vlad ever managed to make more than ten. But it came in handy on missions. He just had to find a way to hide for a bit so he could transform and make them. Sometimes due to the worry of everything going to shit, he did this early on in the mission to prepare for the disaster.

On the bright side, away missions did a wonderful job of feeding Danny's core and obsession. Danny always felt full and satisfied after a good save.

Chapter 3

[carries-corn-syrup]

i’m gonna take fandom fanfic requests. under the cut is the first chapter of a fanfic i’m writing, so you get an idea of what you might be getting!

what i’ll write for:

1. dead rising

2. slasher/horror films (none on my blacklist, request-based)

3. american horror story (i wont write x readers)

4. five nights at freddy’s

you can also ask about me looking into fandoms!

Cecil Hargrove. Not a particularly remarkable person in the least. Prone to nosebleeds and seizures, just barely holding on to life. Cecil was strong, somehow. His parents always knew that. Strong how? Nobody really knew. Not even his family.

The house they lived at was unremarkable as well. Ranch house, 3 bed, 2 bath. Cecil had a brother, Samson, who didn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. Their aunt, Dannie Sue (her real name was Danielle), had just given the family reservations to the resort she worked at as a caretaker.

“More like janitor,” Samson snorted when Dannie first gave them the envelopes with their reservations. The key card was in mom’s envelope, obviously. A 17-year-old boy and his 12-year-old brother can’t take care of a card by themselves. Dannie was indeed a pushover, so she got great rooms for her sister. A suite, actually. Poor old Dannie, with her downturned eyes and dark hair that never bothered to grow past her shoulders. Brave Cecil, who clung to life and wouldn’t let go. Stupid Zinnia Hargrove, who accepted Dannie Sue’s request.

The road is unforgiving in Colorado. Any resident will tell you as much. The road in Colorado in winter? A different, worse story. Zinnia maneuvered the van through the icy roads, being extra careful with Cecil’s wheelchair in the back. Cecil was ambulatory some days, but most days his disorder would make it hard to walk or move on any given day. Chronic pain, hot flashes, nosebleeds. The doctors couldn’t really identify it. They said it was epilepsy. Old people in the park seemed to talk to him, ask him what his favorite dinosaur is, without moving their mouths. Cecil loved dinosaurs. He always did.

Magnus Chapman got ready for his shift as he always did. That goofy little white jumpsuit he always wore, stained by grease and his blood. He really put everything he had into this job. A simple, tedious job: keep the commercial-grade convection heater (better known as a “boiler”) from exploding. Apparently some vandal back in 2019 made headlines by doing the opposite. It had made strange sounds to Magnus a few times, but he always kept the boiler in check.

Until now.

Check, adjust, calibrate, repeat. He did it all day every day. Magnus forgot to calibrate today. He forgot to adjust. Then, he forgot to check. Once the blonde returned from his lunch break, the boiler did exactly what he’d been preventing it from doing. The force of the blast knocked him unconscious. Right?

He woke up in the staff room with an ice pack on his head. One of the workers, a guy his age by name of TJ, was standing over him.

“You, uh.. you fell real hard. Feel ok?”

“Yeah, I’m… i’m fine,” Magnus returned the gesture, setting a hand over one of TJ’s. They’d built a rapport since then, awkward exchanges and drunken chats at staff parties. TJ was a janitor, but had a habit of not really doing his job. He was a somewhat anxious guy, always on-edge despite his face often saying otherwise. TJ worried. He felt something, like a radio tuning to a station that played something evil. He felt a disturbance.

It was back.

Good God. By it, TJ’s frantic mind obviously meant the Overlook. Where he died. Where he couldn’t leave. Poor Magnus. He didn’t know TJ was dead. He didn’t even know he was dead. Sweet, innocent Magnus. Unmarried, died at 39. His lip nearly quivered at that. He snapped himself out of it. They were good friends. Colleagues. He can pity a colleague. He can pity a friend.

“Uh, TJ?” Magnus’s voice racked him out of his panic.

“What?”

“The forks… the forks are floating,” Magnus responded, pointing at the ceiling. He seemed almost unphased by this. TJ looked up and, surprise, the forks were indeed levitating, their tines brushing the ceiling. He blinked a few times. They all came crashing down, the sound grating on his sensitive ears.

A silent beat between the two of them. Hesitation? Tension? TJ’s mind wandered, worried, panicked.

“Wanna go.. forget about that?” Magnus asked TJ, obviously referring to getting a drink.

“I’ve been sober for years, Mag,” TJ responded flatly.

“That being said, I’d be alright with a cigarette and a good chat out on the back stair.”

[msfbgraves]

Since Baby Showers only became a thing later on, what about something where Daniel’s pregnant with his 8th child at his shower? Or maybe something between him and Terry when they realize Daniel is going to have another kid—after all, Terry was super anxious when Daniel didn’t have any Heats for some years after Luna. Terry thought it was for…other reasons, but Daniel’s poor body was only taking a break lol. Serves you right Terry!

"Yeah, alright, Terry, I did enjoy the driving range, but what are we going to do about lunch?"

Terry pulled him close. "What is in that freezer I bought you?"

Daniel wrinkled his nose. "Frozen food. Emergency rations! We're not snowed in, and I missed church too..."

It may have been a little while since he was with pup, but Terry had not forgotten never to mention his mate was a little more anxious in this state, lest he wanted to survive on sandwiches for the week. So he said: "You'll be grand, babe. After all, what's the point of attending two congregations if you can't claim you were at the other one?"

Daniel scoffed. "Madonna mia, I'll have to vouch for you some day," but he seemed slightly more relaxed as Terry opened the car door for him. Danny looked longingly at the steering wheel, but Terry held firm. "Don't start that, sweetheart. Sit down and relax."

"It's easy for you to say. Eli alone could finish the contents of that freezer. And I don't know where Gianni puts it all. He's trying to outgrow you, mark my words, and the girls need a good meal in them, Luna doesn't eat enough, and it's not only the Alphas that need their strength, Robby and Anthony..."

"They're grown pups, mo cuishle, they can fend for themselves and the little ones, they're grand -"

"Just because they've thrown you to the wolves back in the day doesn't mean my pups -"

"Peace," Terry laughed. "We'll take them out to lunch, is that acceptable?"

"I'd cook you better if you'd have let me plan, Terry, surprises are fine but why Sunday of all days...!"

"Mea maxima culpa, my sweetest one."

"It's work, is all I'm saying," Daniel said, a little deflated. "I know you come home to relax, and I want you to, but that doesn't mean I can drop everything at a moment's notice."

Terry reached over. "I know, baby. But you should let the pups pull their weight."

Daniel laughed. "We have four Alphas, have you any idea why the house hasn't been destroyed yet? It's not because I'm spending my time sipping homemade limoncello, dear."

"Does it have to be homemade?"

"Dai!" He slapped his hand. "One more word, I'm replacing all the whiskey with Scotch."

That, of course, was unthinkable, so Terry held his tongue. Daniel stroked his arm. "I do enjoy these dates, Sir. Give me a heads up next time? Something to look forward to?"

Terry could think of a lot of things to look forward to, but before they could get into that, Daniel hissed. "What's my Ma doing here?"

Trust Italians to be late, had he not explicitly instructed everyone to be on time? It had been hard enough as it was to stall his Danny love at golf, eager as he was to get lunch finished. Not today. Today was all about him enjoying himself.

Ah, well. Maybe Lucille had enough sense to feign a surprise visit. He let Danny out, then parked the car - only to immediately be greeted by a highly upset Anthony. He really was the spitting image of his Mama, eyes blazing and gesticulating as if they were in downtown Naples. "Daddy, nobody will listen - "

At least Yasmin was hot on his heels. "Anthony, don't do that!!"

"Quiet!" He looked to the both. "What's going on?"

"He just took off -"

"I can see that, acushla," he said, a little short. "Anthony, what's happened, baby?"

"Dad, he's not a baby!"

"I'll get to you, darlin," he said, and now she had the good sense to shut up.

His son lifted his chin as if preparing to deliver a lawyer's opening statement, and it took everything Terry had not to grin and ruffle his hair. "I said it was going to be a potluck style, because there are too many people, and auntie Apollonia doesn't know what that is, but I'm right, Daddy, we can't do sit down, there are too many people...!"

"I know I've told you to listen to your auntie, Tony, love."

"But she's wrong, this is my house and she doesn't understand we -"

"This is my house, Anthony, and if I tell you to listen to your aunt, you will listen to your aunt."

"But -"

"It's not your responsibility, darlin'. Now go apologize to her and help out."

"I don't -"

"Now!"

Yasmin was looking rather too self-satisfied, so he took her shoulder.

"I told you to watch him."

"Which is why I'm outside..."

"He might have gone into heat!"

She scoffed. "He's not going to go into heat, he presented like three seconds ago!"

He breathed in. "Some people like that idea!"

She raised her eyebrows. "Ew, Dad, that's gross!"

"How do you expect me to get you off dishwashing duty at the Stallion if you can't even look after your omega brother?"

She looked down. "Nobody can keep that one in check, conniving little brat -"

"And you think you are never going to encounter more of those?"

She was quiet for exactly half a second. "I thought there were no more stray kitties allowed at the Stallion?"

Terry looked over his shoulder, but Daniel was still firmly in conversation with Lucille. "Don't call them that."

"What?"

"Your brother is not an animal. Your mother is not an animal!"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't mean them -"

"That language is only used by people who can never hope to take care of an omega. Don't you want to be in the position to care for one, some day?"

She shrugged. Terry stared. "Come again?"

She sighed. "Don't take it personal, Daddy. I want a life. I don't want to be tied down."

"Tied down."

She was a strong girl, he'd give her that. He'd seen hardened criminals shrink back from less. "Oh, come on, look at this," she scoffed. "The whole week gone because Mama is going to have a puppy. Again."

"And there are more important things."

"Not for you, Daddy, I know." She flicked her hair. "I'm not built for this, is all. I'm different."

He looked at her. Beautiful. Radiant, healthy and strong... and she'd throw it away in a heartbeat.

He closed his eyes. "God keep you, acushla," he said, walking past her. She followed him inside. "Dad, I knew you'd be like this. It's not that I don't appreciate what Mama does -"

He turned around. "When he sat at your bedside for a week, should he have done more important things, perhaps?"

"Oh, come on, it's what they do..."

He stood and looked at her, and she had the decency to stutter. "I mean - it's Mama. It's not like he wanted to do anything else...?"

"You foolish girl."

She turned white. "Daddy, I love Mama, I only meant -"

"You live in paradise, and you don't even know it. Jaysis, Mary and Joseph, I'm ashamed of you."

Tears glistened in her eyes, but she lifted her chin. "Isn't that what he's supposed to do? And you? Take care of your pups?"

He steadied his breathing. "He's given you his whole, entire life. Don't you know what it's cost him?"

"I didn't ask him to," she said.

He'd never laid a hand on her and he never would. "Go relieve Susan," he said.

She blinked. "Why?"

"Because I can't stand the sight of you right now," he spat. "If the rest of life is so much more important, go do an Alpha's job, and you can do it without a hot meal, or talking shit with your Uncle Louie over a glass of wine. And you can stay there until after Dennis has relieved Bobby, and you will listen to him, Yasmin, because he has more years under his belt than you've even been alive."

Now she was getting angry. "I only said what I felt!'

He smirked. "And you assume people care. They don't, acushla, the world's a very cold place, and nobody cares about anything other than what they can get from you." He didn't wait for her reply, shifted into logistics: how many entrances, people, weapons, how many trusted allies and potential traitors. He'd wanted to show his sweet Danny right off and he did, saw him melt at the gifts of clothes and toys and a newly decorated crib (Luna's work, with all his other pups chipping in for specific details), saw Anthony host like a pro, always subtly flanked by either Sammy or inseperable Gianni and Eli, while Robby had a watchful eye on his Mama's every comfort.

'I didn't ask him to.'

He wouldn't have gone into heat if things weren't good between them, Yasmin's entire existence a sign that his Danny boy wanted this and him, and now, this new pup an extra confirmation that they were good, and the marriage, family, was wanted, for feck's sake -

'Don't you know what it's cost him?'

Danny's delight in greeting every one of his pups, the way he beamed at all the neighbors bringing over supplies and toys and stuff they didn't need, of course, not with the exquisite care Daniel took with every facet of his puppies' lives, it had to mean they'd made it, right?

Right?!

"Terry? Where is Yasmin?"

And maybe he shouldn't have relented at something as simple as Daniel going: "Terry. Where is my pup?!" if he wanted this lesson to stick, but then again, it was foolish to think Daniel had not observed what had gone on between them, if he never directly undermined Terry's authority. So if Yasmin was brought back with quite a bit of fanfare, that was something he'd have to accept, for Danny's sake, and at least Yasmin had the decency not to look like she was above it all. Then Daniel whispered something to Luna and she ran to his side with that sweet smile of hers, "Daddy, play us a song", which of course turned the afternoon into an impromptu jam session that not even Samantha and Tory's eternal posturing could bring any tension to. Tory was a mean fiddler, and not to be outdone, even Yasmin took up hers; Robby played a Sicilian song for Apollonia, and Tommy showed the Italian pups how to do a jig, and Terry knew he was going to Hell, but he'd claw out his way backwards to be with him again, his love, his Danny boy, the light and soul of his entire life.

[deadbydangit]

Trapper x Killer Reader

Dying Light

Triggers: Minor mentions of self harm.

“You’re trembling.”

He stated dryly. His arms crossed in a disappointed impatient manor as a huff of exasperation left his lips. That breath dissipating into the frosted air of Ormond. It wasn’t the cold that caused you to shake; it was you as you were. A frightened, anxious mess.

“I-I’m sorry.”

A grunt escaped from his throat, a low irritated growl. You apologized again; he hated when you apologized. He had nothing left to say; hours upon hours of training and you still had yet to make progress. Evan didn’t have time for this; he was a busy man and you were burning up what little free time he had. He had traps to fix, other killers to meet with, a workshop to upkeep.

“You’re holding your weapon too close to your body, your grip is too tight, your posture is too rigid, you’re-”

You opened your mouth again, cutting off his list of actions you were performing incorrectly and sputtering apologizes over and over like a broken record. Damn it! Again with the apologizing. Evan clenched his fist in irritation, knowing that it was the only thing he could do to suppress his frustration. He needed a drink, or a smoke, or even a trial would be better. You were hopeless, practically begging for the Entity to remove you and send you into the inky void. He halted your chain of apologies.

“Let’s… Let’s just take a break.”

He slid his hand down his mask, massaging his temples with his pointer fingers’ in an attempt to keep his composure. Retreating into the lodge, leaving you out in the snow to contemplate your failure, Evan sat by the dwindling fire to warm his hands. This place must’ve been really nice before the Entity distorted it. For a moment, he removed his mask to reveal his war-torn face. He had adapted to life in the realm. Sure, he didn’t kill for the thrill of it like some of the others, but he could get the job done without feeling remorse.

As annoyed as he was. As vain as his attempts were. As exhausted as he was. He couldn’t bring himself to hate you. It wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have been a killer in the first place. If it wasn’t for the horrid way you died and the rage in your heart, you would’ve more than likely ended up a survivor. But you weren’t a survivor, you were a killer. It was a fact that you’d have to accept sooner or later; hopefully sooner, because the Entity was growing restless with your poor performance.

That last trial, watching survivors hurl objects at you: used medkits, toolboxes, flashlights, rocks, broken pieces of pallet. All whilst they laughed and taunted; it was a sickening sight. It was then Evan realized that he had to do something, anything, to prevent that utter display of pathetic defeat from happening again.

But why? Why was he so fixated on helping you? Of all the activities he could be spending his free time on, why you? It was for a multitude of reasons. One: that damned Ghostface brat bet that Evan couldn’t turn you into a real killer, and he hated that little shit. His reputation as one of strongest in the realm was on the line and he wasn’t about to let that be tarnished because Danny couldn’t stop being a prick.

Two: he didn’t enjoy seeing killers taken into the void. It was a disturbing sight; listening to the screams of agony of all those who were forced to wander the darkness forever, only getting a glimpse of light when another hapless victim was thrown in. The sight of their bodies, slowly distorting and melting away. The hands of those long departed clawing at the entrance, only to be swatted away like flies by the Entity's tendrils. The smell of rotting flesh. If he could prevent it from happening to others, he would. If not for others sake, for his own selfish desire to avoid the dreaded sight.

Three: he saw something in you. A naive innocence that would always melt away from other killers upon their first trial. You, however, retained that child-like purity, even among your first kill. This place squashed all hope and joy from all those who entered, but if he could save that little light still burning in you, then by God he would. To find a small hint of happiness in this Hell is what he desired more than anything, though admitting that would be another matter. Seeing your smile, hearing you laugh, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity he felt something positive, something he was missing. He wasn’t particularly enjoying his time in the realm; he was miserable. Every time he took a life, every time the Entity praised him for his excellent work, he felt nothing but agitation and hollowness.

But that little spark of yours was burning out. He could see it every time you returned from a trial; broken, defeated, losing your will to fight. The flame dimming along with your smile and laughter. Your eyes sinking from a bright glow to a dull apathy. Despite the morbid situation you came from, you still tried to find the bright side of situations. A hope that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, you found a train. You had a warm welcoming demeanor, now all that was left was a skittish deer in the headlights.

Evan sighed once more; was he really doing the right thing by pushing you to be what you weren’t? As much as he hated to even imagine the idea; maybe the void would be safer for you. At least there you could find other like-minded individuals; you’d be able to inspire those lost to find the light within themselves. Maybe even escape this shit-hole. He snickered at his own naive stupidity; happy endings didn’t exist here. Maybe if he wasn’t so harsh and demanding about the training you’d be able to accomplish something, anything. Perhaps his teaching methods weren’t suited for you.

A sudden wretched scream pierced the eerie silence and his thoughts. This wasn’t a cry of fear or surprise, this was the sound of someone reaching their breaking point. It didn’t take a genius to realize it was you. He had heard it before; he, himself, had let out a screech similar to the one he was now hearing. If only someone had been there to reassure him; someone to tell him that it was going to be alright in the end, that he’d make it through it. Maybe he wouldn’t be as cold as he was now. No one was there for him, but he could be there for you.

Despite every cell in his brain telling him to let you have your moment, his body didn’t obey. Rushing to his feet, he sprinted out, his mask sliding back down onto his face. Still in the same spot he left you in, now on your hands and knees. As tears of grief poured off your cheeks, you grabbed fistfuls of your own hair, pulling at it in an attempt to distract yourself from the overwhelming devastation you felt. Scratching at the snow beneath you till you hit solid rock, your fingernails chipped and bleeding. The screams continued, your voice growing hoarse as time went on. Your light was almost gone.

The ungodly sight sprung Evan into action. His first priority was to stop you from causing anymore harm to yourself. To do so, he wrapped his hulking frame around you, his hands grasping at yours, restraining your body till you could calm yourself; that proved much more difficult than he imagined. Perhaps all the training was paying off, he could feel you struggle against him. You had become stronger.

After a few minutes of wrestling you into a relaxed state, Evan moved his arms around you once more, this time cradling you, his head burrowed in the crook of your neck, waiting for your tears and screams to die down before speaking.

“You’re afraid.”

He tried to soften his voice to the best of his ability. His usual gruff emotionless tone wasn’t suited for the current conversation.

“But I won’t let you be afraid alone, not like I was. It won’t be easy, but it won’t break you. I won’t allow it to.”

Exhausted from the hours of training and the mental breakdown, you were now slumped against his chest, sleep threatening to overtake you at any time. Behind your tear stained sleepy flickering eyes he could sense a new found determination. In that moment, he saw a tiny flicker, your light. Small, quivering, and cold, but the flame was there. With time, he’d reignite it, rebuilding you back to what you were when you first entered the realm. You were that bright light he needed, and he would never allow it to go out.