#the fentons open a bar

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Fentons open a bar in gothem

So the GIW find out danny is phantom and distroys amity park, danny was only able to save jazz and maddie because they were with him

After their safely in the ghost zone jazz and danny explain to maddie about how dannys phantom and what the GIW really are and everything

Maddie accepts danny and is now very protective because of hunting her own son, losing her husband, vlad fighting danny and the GIW, jazz is protective of him for similar reasons

Then they meet dan and over a few months maddie, jazz and danny reform dan and after dan was forgiven for his crimes he was filled in on everything that happened and now dan is protective too

The entire remaining fentons are extremely overprotective of eachother dispite how strong they are

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After a few years in the ghost zone, jazz and maddie become liminal and immortal while dan and danny have effectively stopped aging, and now want to have a life outside of the ghost zone

So they all look and come across gothem...and decide to open a bar

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About 9 months later "Fenton zone" is one of the hottest hits for the criminals of gothem

The bartender may look young enough to be your child but he doesn't bat an eye to scheming, violent stories or threats. He'll talk to you like a person and has soon become the favourite

The manager(?) Is an esentric womam who loves to show off her new inventions and will sometimes offer advice to the criminals

And the red haired girl that showes up looks to be in charge of the entertainments, nice but don't get into a debate with her...she'll win

And the bouncer who is 6.9, jacked and more intimidating that the bat definitely keeps everyone in line

Follow the rules and you'll be fine...dont and there will be consequences

But the criminals love it, no one bats an eye to the criminals, hell they often swap scar stories with eachother

Harly and jazz love to talk phyciatritrist with eachother

Danny seems to know alot about plants and activly helps ivy with them

Maddie and the riddler got into a poetry battle once

And dan is the arm wrestling champion (the only one whos beat him is danny but everyone thinks dan let him win) but is always up for a challenge

Dont order food though, the one time anyone did maddie came out chasing living hotdogs, danny sighed grabed a net and helped maddie while jazz maned the bar

It was good it really was...

But once again the bat had to try and ruin all the fun

[flamingpudding]

Danny, the 'twig' Bouncer

The job was just a temporary solution. It was a means to an end. To help him handle his obsession until things were better. Until it was safe to be out again. Until he could roam around freely without fear. Until he no longer needed to lay low or be on the run. Until he could return to being Phantom.

This job helped keep his obsession somewhat sedated. Sure, it was a shady bar, but it beat working out in the open in some other way or becoming a non-ghost vigilante and risking his human persona too.

Besides people tented to underestimate him because he was a 'twig' in their eyes. The bar owner nearly didn't hire him until he easily flipped a human truck over his shoulder and threw the guy out the back door on his interview day.

But again this was just meant to be temporary. He got to fight the trouble makers and protect customers from the rowdy crowd.

At some point, the people even started cheering whenever Danny was on the clock, his coworkers even leaving the heavy hitters to him. It was kind of fun always seeing the sound looks of the big guys that didn't think Danny could throw them out the door with one hand. The owner had said something about getting more customers ever since Danny started working for him.

Danny even recognized regulars now. Tho there was this one guy with a red helmet that gave him a weird feeling. But the guy wasn't making trouble so Danny left him alone.

Besides the Bar Owner always pet his shoulder after he threw someone out. That meant he did a good job right?

Though Danny did wonder how long this temporary job would last.

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Yea his Fenton luck struck again. Danny didn't know faces. The bar was a shady place but neutral zone according to the owner but there was the golden rule of not messing with Joker. Danny had agreed even tho he didn't know who that guy was.

Soo the day came a clown made trouble in the bar and no one else appeared to want to do something. So what did Danny do? His job. He punched the guy, knocked him out and threw him right out the door a little too hard into a brick wall. He might have broken a couple of that clown guys bones. Hello trauma, Freakshow greets you.

The bar was dead silent right after, everyone staring at him like he had just signed a death sentence. The owner had then pushed him out the door and muttered something about sending Danny on vacation and to return in a month if he was still alive by then.

Did that mean he was fired or got a weird kind of promotion?

Why was that guy in a furry suit staring him down now?

Also why was the red helmet regular suddenly trying to hire him for his gang?

Really Danny just wanted a simple job that sedated his obsession, this was not what he expected to happen for a job well done.

[ecoamerica]

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[nelkcats]

The Fenton "Boor"

The Fentons have always been famous for their legal sale of weapons, usually based on ectoplasm and used to hunt ghosts. That's where they got most of their funds, whether it was to finance new inventions, their laboratory, or their children's education.

The problem began when they found out that Phantom was their son. Because of that revelation they accepted that they couldn't continue on the "weapon creator" path, how could they continue to create and sell weapons that help hunt down their baby? Even if they didn't trust all the ghosts Danny changed their perspective of the Infinite Realms and they were more or less at peace.

That is why they debated for hours on what to do to make money again, until they noticed something curious: Most of the people in Amity couldn't get drunk. It was a silly thing to focus on, but thanks to a quick investigation they noticed that after the portal opened no one had made it.

That's the reason they created a new brand of beer "Boor", which affected both ghosts and humans contaminated with ectoplasm. Their business quickly became a success and the beer was exported elsewhere (with many care and prevention labels).

When Jason Todd noticed "Boor" on the shelf at the bar he frequented, he snorted. The beer had a small ghost on the bottle, which caught his attention, he ordered it out of curiosity and when the waiter told him that the brand claimed "the product was capable of making even the dead drunk" Jason almost laughed.

Big was his surprise the next day when he woke up on one of Gotham's rooftops with a severe hangover. He had at least 8 missed calls from Nightwing and a bottle with a cartoon ghost in his hand.

[aro-in-danyl]

DP x DC Prompt #2 - Fenton Cafe

Inspired by that one underground bar post @stealingyourbones

The Fentons move to Gotham to support Jazz at her new college and open up a small cafe on the first floor of their blimp house to earn money. 

Now the Fentons moved to a sketchy part of Gotham cause that’s the only place they could land safely. It doesn’t take long for rogues to slither in looking for easy cash. 

And promptly get blasted by the Fenton anti-ghost Defense System. They wake up to Maddie and Jack tending to their wounds and shoving a tin of fudge into their hands, respectively. The goon/rogue gets booted by Danny after being forced to listen to his parent’s ghost rant for several hours. 

Weirdly, it doesn’t take long before the cafe becomes a safe haven for rogues and goons alike to relax. But then the bats arrive to get a handle on the new ‘villain hideout.’

The Fenton’s don’t discriminate. The bats get the same treatment as the rogues all the way down to the complimentary fudge. No one comes into their house with that kind of attitude. 

It’s a Violence-free unless you’re a Fenton zone. 

But It’s a real party when Danny’s rogues start showing up. 

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Everything had been quiet with thier usual rogues, which was always a sign something big was about to go down.

Cue this little bar and restaurant place appearing overnight. No. Literally. The entire building appeared replacing an old abandoned cake shop overnight. No one knows were it came from or who the blond guy is who runs the place.

There were so many questions. Who was this guy? Where did he come from? Who was the adoption bait that was on his payroll? Why open the bar in that location? Why is there four floors plus a basement to the place but only two floors are accessible to non staff? Why is there only two staff? Why do all of thier cameras and spy tech fail whenever the teen gets too close to them?

Jason ends up applying after they see the "help wanted" sign in one of the windows. The inside of the place did look like a slice of heaven. Marble flooring and greek columns with ivys climbing up them from pots inlayed into the flooring and cleverly hidden UV lights hidden in the ceiling just above them for when the bar closes. A sea of white tablecloths on round tables, topped with vases, each holding a few yellow lilies.

All it took was the two of them tasting Jasons cooking for the teen to start praising him and the blond guy to nod and tell him he was hired as a chief/bartender and that room and board came along with the pay and that he could be reimbursed for buying a new lock on his door if he wanted to.

Jason was surprised to learn that at least one if the upper floors was actually where they lived. Guess thats one mystery solved.

Now they just needed to discover whatever else Cloud Strife and Danny Fenton were hiding in Seventh Heaven.

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 6

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

Bruce sighed, absently feeling the air on his hands folded in front of his face. He stared unseeingly ahead. His frowned deeply, at a loss of what to do. Worry picked at his self control.

Something was up with Jason. Ever since the other night, something had happened between the thief and Jason. It had left him unsettled and off balance, that much was obvious. They’d all been able to see it.

Now, today, Jason had lost control. He’d been agitated of course, but Bruce hadn’t expected the outburst. Jason was usually good at managing his anger these days, at least in the family. He didn’t get physical with them anymore in anger. Except today Jason had suddenly pulled him up by the shirt, and Bruce had honestly expected him to punch him. Jason had shaken it off, but then he’d fled.

The urge to move, to do something, itched at him. He wanted to get answers, but confronting Jason was out of the question. Their truce was fragile, and it seemed every time he spoke to Jason he said the wrong thing. He didn’t know what to do except control the urge to go after his son. He couldn’t fight his demons for him. He could only try not to make it worse.

And so he sat there, staring, unseeing.

Dick’s footsteps, came down the stairs, easily recognizable: light and almost dancing to a rhythm only he could hear, skipping a step every now and then.

“Hey B, thought you were going golfing with the mayor, keeping up the old appearances and all that” he greeted brightly, as ever immune to Bruce’s mood. Or maybe Alfred sent him down to deal with him, that was also an option.

“Oh I love these,” Dick reached forward over Bruce’s shoulder to grab a protein bar from the backpack. He opened it and started to eat it without hesitation.

“Dick,” Bruce sighed, “this is evidence.”

Dick snorted and leaned on the console so he could look at Bruce. “You’re serious.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Dick snorted again, of course Bruce was serious, then he pulled the backpack over and started rooting through it. Much to Bruce’s exasperation he opened another protein bar.

“Dick, they could be drugged.”

“As if you’d have let me take the first one if that was the case,” Dick mumbled around the mouthful of granola. Bruce mentally conceded the point.

“Anyways,” Dick swallowed and continued, reading the name tag on the inside of the backpack, “Danny Fenton, who’s that?”

Bruce sighed.

“The thief.”

“The Ghost!?” Dick looked up in excitement, “so we have a name now?”

“Presumably, it may not originally have been his backpack.”

“True, doesn’t help much either does it? Danny is very common and Fenton may not be Johnson, but it’s not exactly unique.”

“I haven’t looked it up yet.”

Dick narrowed his eyes.

“This has anything to do with why you’re brooding?”

Silence stretched between them, but Dick could be surprisingly patient when he wanted to. There was no point in dragging things out, it wasn’t a secret, Dick could easily find out through the surveillance if he wanted, Bruce would rather he didn’t.

“Jason was the one who delivered the backpack.”

“Ah.” There was the worried frown Bruce would have liked to avoid. He leaned down a bit to better face Bruce.

“You had a fight?” The question was posed carefully, softly, not betraying any inkling what he thought of that, in a way to gently pry the answer from Bruce, but Bruce knew his eldest son well enough to know he was already mentally running damage control options. That was Dick, always trying to keep their family together tooth and nail. There was a soft pang of appreciation in his chest he couldn’t articulate, instead he focused on the problem at hand.

“He’s convinced the thief needs help, I don’t actually disagree.”

Dick sat back in realization, his eyes flickered to the backpack and its sorry spoils.

“But he could still be working for someone,” Dick recited with a sigh, it was an old lesson. One he knew Jason wouldn’t have appreciated, not if he felt Bruce was dismissing his concerns. “B.”

“I know.”

Do you? Dick’s eyebrows asked, but he had the grace not to actually say it. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder instead, squeezing slightly.

“He’ll warm back up.”

“You think so?” He asked unable to look up at Dick.

“Hey,” Dick said brightly in a way that naturally drew attention to him, “we’ve come back from worse.” And there was that bright smile and that pang of appreciation was back, along with another warm feeling in his chest: hope.

“Well, I gotta get going, I’ve got work tomorrow. Just gotta grab a few more of these.”

And the feeling was gone.

“Dick.”

“We shouldn’t waste perfectly good food, B, also they’re W-Mark exclusives, they don’t have them in Blüdhaven.” He grinned, pockets stuffed with contraband. Invariably reminding Bruce of a younger version with pockets full of candy he’d been denied. Brat already knew he had won. Bruce waved him off with a sigh.

Dick practically skipped towards the stairs. Then he paused.

“Oh and B, if I was you, I’d check the phone at the bottom of the bag. It’s not a brand I recognize.”

With that he was off.

Bruce stared after him. Pride warred with annoyance. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed Dick checking out the bag more thoroughly than the cursory look he himself had done when Jason had handed it to him.

He grabbed the bag and rooted around a bit, and just as Dick had said, there was a phone.

He pulled it out, and turned it over in his hands. It was made from dark blue plastic. The logo on the back, a stylized V in front of a globe, wasn’t one he recognized. It looked old and scuffed, had actual buttons and a jarringly small screen when you were used to modern smartphones.

It was also out of power.

With how old it looked, it was unlikely cordless charging was an option. He looked at the bottom edge where there was an actual mini headphone jack, along with what he assumed was the charging port - it wasn’t a type he recognized.

He frowned and got up. He wouldn’t be too late for his meeting with the mayor if he left now, not something he couldn’t brush off as eccentric forgetfulness at least.

He could drop the phone off at Tim’s on the way. Tim would get the phone working one way or another.

Oo o oO

Danny stayed underneath the pavement long after the not-ghost had left. The feeling of almost giving in was a crawling like ants underneath his skin. The threat of almost capture was like a noose around his neck - if they captured him, if they managed to contain him, he would never get home.

Eventually the bone deep tiredness of using his powers too much hit him, and he dragged himself back to his haunt, invisibly and intangibly, because he’d had much too much excitement today. He was raw and empty inside when he dropped onto his blanket pile and rolled up. He would get food some other day. Never mind that he was completely out. It wouldn’t end his existence, just weaken him. Ghosts at the core ran on willpower, and Danny wanted to go home.

A small squeak and rustle, had him opening his eyes a crack and turning his head to look to the far side of the room. There the rat was going his trash, the packaging probably still smelled like food.

He huffed and closed his eyes again. If he got truly desperate he could always eat the rat - It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d eaten.

next

Masterpost for subscription

Sorry, it's not the longest part this time, but we got to appreciate a few other characters, yay! Hope you enjoyed, cause Danny sure isn't enjoying himself.

[anjanahalo]

Wayne vs Fenton 2

start of the madness

Here's the actual blurb I wrote. It's from Damian's POV, post him punching the seemingly stalking Daniel Fenton in the face while they stand in an alley. ~*~

Fenton made for, in many ways, an infuriating opponent. It became obvious quickly that any formal training he had involved only the bare basics. Everything else drew from a street brawler’s efficiency, tactics used to strike fast and hard but without finesse. Between the two, Damian was the superior fighter. His training allowed him to dodge most attacks and connect more hits, and Fenton appeared rather weak when it came to avoiding throws. Logically, the fight should have ended quickly and cleanly in Damian’s favor. It didn’t. Fenton’s clear advantage laid in being able to take Damian’s hits and continue advancing, often with a laugh and a genuine smile. Damian started the fight filled with irritation and rage. Fenton engaged with what appeared to be genuine delight. The way Damian literally almost threw Fenton off a rooftop once they somehow ended up ascending a fire escape and began combining their brawl with skyline parkour, for example, lead to Fenton only grinning and bounding back into the fray. It utterly confused Damian. The confusion changed to matching delight as he realized how fun this was. A no holds barred martial battle unlike anything he ever received from his family, and one that didn’t hold any of the pressure of his League training for perfection. Just an exchange of punches, hits, and laughter. Damian hadn’t felt so free in ages, nor so fulfilled, as though he’d quenched a long lasting thirst he didn’t realize plagued him. He didn’t even think about the state of himself or Fenton when Alfred opened the door to Wayne manor to see the two boys covered in scrapes, bruises, and school uniforms torn from their hours long tussle against each other. Alfred stared, most surprised by the matching smiles Damian and his apparent classmate shared. “Welcome home, Master Damian. You are a bit late for dinner, but I saved you a plate, and can easily provide something for your guest.” “Oh, it’s that late already?” Damian asked. “Sorry, Alfred. We, ah,” Damian faltered in coming up with a reasonable explanation for what just happened. Fenton pulled out his phone from his bag, checking the time. “Oh, shit, I have like a million missed calls from Vlad.” Alfred glared a bit at the foul language, but allowed it to slide considering the two looked as though they’d been tossed in a hurricane. “Do you require a ride home, Mister…” “Oh! It’s Danny. Sorry, sir. Um, maybe?” “Fenton, you must stay for Alfred’s cooking at least. You can explain you’re visiting your friend at the Wayne manor. I can’t imagine him being upset at your becoming familiar with me.” “Wait, you’re a Wayne? Like ‘Brucie Wayne’ Wayne?” “You didn’t realize this?” “I barely managed to figure out your first name! How would I know that? Wait, we’re friends?” “After that fight? Of course we are. Please, accept my invitation for a visit. I believe it is also Friday, so perhaps you could spend the night, as well?” “Like a sleepover?” “If you wish to call it that,” Damian acquiesced. Danny tilted his head in thought, then quickly sent a text before silencing his phone. “Vlad’s a fruitloop anyway."

[minnesota-fats]

I have seen many of Talia and Bruce are Dannys parents and heard of Danny being Selina's son and but NEVER have I saw Danny still being Maddies son, but Bruce is his biological dad too.

( It could be from a very drunken one-night stand and while Jack knows Danny isn't his biologically, he still treated him like his son which made Maddie love him more )

Maddie doesn't even bother telling Bruce out of fear he might use his money to take Danny from her and the whole Playboy Image wasn't helping.

Like imagine the meltdown from Damian since he's not the only blood son on top of being the youngest son to boot. And if he sees Dani he slowly gaslights himself into thinking she's the secret love child of his father and Selina and might worries there is some weight to Bruce's Playboy Image and there's a 4th blood sibling out there.

Talia wondering who the heck is this Madeline Fenton and how the HELL did she get give Bruce a son first? She's now in the top 5 on her shitlist.

And Vlad having a stroke at the realization that Danny is NOT Jack's bio son but freaking Bruce Wayne, the Playboy from Gotham. And if Bruce and Vlad don't like each other than this will be even more hilarious.

I have seen a fix with Jason as the blood father and Maddie still his mom but not Bruce!

I wonder how they would have met, Maddie and Bruce? Was there a engineer convention at Wayne tower? I bet Bruce had to go and Maddie and Jack were there because SCIENCE!

But Jack probably ran off leaving Maddie at the bar and Maddie just straight up NOT having a good time because this was the 90’s and if I am not mistaken a good chunk of the engineering field was male dominated and a bit misogynistic. And she got fuckin’ plastered and in her drinking haze might have even mistaken one tall black haired blue eyed man for another and decided that leaving with an equal (probably less so but still) drunk Bruce was DTF this random red head because he was also sick of all the misogynistic scientists around. (Also we all know that Bruce has a thing for women who can kick his fuckin ass!)

Or if your not into that the only other thought I had was Jack and Maddie have an open relationship and the reason Maddie doesn’t date Vlad is cuz he’s a big creep! (Jack would so date Vlad if he was given the chance!)

Anyway, after she wakes up and takes one look at the man next to her and is like, “that’s not Jack…” before hightailing it’s out of there!(probably in some sort of eccentric way) She looks for her actual husband the morning after. She realizes what has happened and was going to go home and sleep off her hangover before she tells her husband what had happened. Depending on the scenario Maddie would either be a bundle of nerves or she would be excited to say she found out she slept with Bruce Wayne of all people. (Even though he is known for his Brucie persona, both Jack and Maddie know no simple minded man can run a business like Wayne Industry’s)

Either way Jack would be hyped cuz BRUCE FRICKIN WAYNE!!!! And when he found out Maddie was prego be ever MORE FUCKIN HYPED cuz OH MY FUDGE ANOTHER BABY! (They may not be the best parents but they sure as shit love their kids) Maddie isn’t sure she should keep Danny but seeing Jack so excited she realized it didn’t matter because if he was so happy and she would be happy too.

Cue danny being born and Jazz being a big sister who is very excited to finally know where babies come from (and for her new baby brother I guess). Years later it probably would have never come up again but Vlad during his cloning phase decides to look into Danny’s dna some more. “Probably jacks dumb dna messing with their proses!” (Vlad would so gaslight himself into believing that even though intelligence doesn’t effect dna) and he finds not a sing bit of Jack in Danny.

After recovering from the shock of it Vlad starts scheming, comes up with a plan to use this to drive Jack and Maddie apart. Goes to Jack and in the most dramatic way possible tells Jack about the SHOCKING discovery that danny isn’t his son!

And Jack is like, “oh I know that! And don’t be silly Vlad! Danno might not be mine biologically but he’s still my boy!” And Vlad is about to rip his hair out because of course Jack wouldn’t be bothered with that! What a FOOL!!!

Then Vlad thinking he could salvage this decides to tell Danny who just thinks Vlad is fucking with him until Vlad barrages into the house at 9 am after looking more into who Danny bio dad would be and in the most offended outrage Danny has ever seen from the older halfa says “you slept with BRUCE WAYNE????” To Maddie causing both Danny and Jazz to spit out whatever the hell they were eating all over the table. (Jack: I know right? Pretty cool!!)

After that discovery Danny yeets himself into the ghost zone cuz wow, isn’t that a world shattering discovery to be thrusted upon you at 9 in the morning!

How the Batfam find out I’m not entirely sure? Maybe Danny wanted to meet him (probably not) or maybe it was ghosts hearing about it from some fight that Vlad and Danny have in the GZ and spreading rumors from ghost to ghost until it reaches the undead ears of Boston Brand (Deadman) who tells Constantine or Zatana who tell Bruce who just is plain confused as to why ghosts of all thing would know he has an unknown son (who may be dead???) Or maybe Talia finds out first and sends assassins to kill Maddie (who takes them on like a fuckin’ champ!) and Bruce follows the league of Assassins activity and finds that one woman he had a one night stand with and sees her son who looks too much like him to be a coincidence. Or maybe Damian found out first and this was when he first came to live with Bruce and he was still a little murder-y. He fucking tracks Danny down and is like “there can only be one!” And Danny is like “one what???? But jokes on you there is also more than one of me!” (Dani/Elle) thus causing Damien to go into a rage only to be stopped by what ever Batfam came to stop him! (Danny: what’s with the small angry child?) Dami pouts but moves on. (Can’t kill what’s already dead, maybe???)

Either way Danny would be welcomed into the bat fam with open arms! (Dami is reluctant but comes around when he finds out about Cujo (Dami: and I guess Danny is ok too))

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE THOMAS SHELBY HEADCANONS

There is a REASON he is known as the Devil of Small Heath around Birmingham. Pretty much all the men who come for a drink at the Garrison have the common sense not to mess with Thomas Shelby, just by hearing his mere name sends shivers up people's spines and for a reason too because of his dark deeds against people who stand against him. If there's one thing he values the most, it's family. He's willing to kill anyone who dares to prove to be a danger to his family

You were new to the city of Birmingham after completing your education overseas at a reputed university and you had a dream and passion for becoming a writer, to make a name for yourself in the literary world. You were supposed to meet your childhood friend Russell whom you've known ever since the two of you were in your school days as you opened the door to the Garrison and took a shaky breath as you entered the pub and sat down on a stool. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your dress nervously as you'd never had the habit of consuming alcohol much less even stepping foot inside a pub. The bartender Harry Fenton's eyes landed on you, as he had a polite smile on his face. "Where are you from miss, haven't seen you around here'' he said in a friendly tone as you told him about you visiting Birmingham for the first time and how you were supposed to meet your friend Russell. The bartender offered you a drink on the house but you politely declined as his lips curved into an amused smile at your refusal, finding it amusing that even though you were in a bar, you'd refused a drink of alcohol. Little did you know, there were 3 pairs of eyes watching you without your knowledge from a nearby booth

"Oh, she's new. Haven't seen her around'' said Ada to her brothers as she sipped her drink and looked at you with an interested expression on her face. "I know...she looks like a goody two shoes, bein' in a pub an all and not drinkin'' said Arthur as he smirked to himself as he gulped down his beer. "I know...real beauty ain't she?" said John as he grinned and took a swig of his drink as the three of them started discussing about you. Just then, they went quiet when Thomas entered wearing his glasses, his smart black suit along with Polly by his side as the two of them sat down at the booth with the rest of them. "Alfie's men are causing trouble again...need to get rid of that bloody dolt for good'' grumbled Tommy as he fished in his pocket for a cigar and lit it as he took a puff of smoke and sighed. His eyes fell on John who was still staring at you as his gaze landed on you as well and he surveyed you with his calculating piercing gaze. "Whos' she?" he asked the others with a stoic expression on his face as they told him about you and how you were waiting for someone

He couldn't help but feel slightly amused when he heard you wanted to become a writer at Birmingham of all places which was definitely NOT the place for you in his opinion. Yet his eyes never left you, as he kept observing you from a distance. "Oh, looks like you fancy her now don't you?" asked Ada in a teasing voice. "Shut up Ada'' he retorted as he continued to look at you. However a few seconds later he spotted some lousy drunk sleazebag trying to make you uncomfortable as he kept getting too close to you and you had an uncomfortable expression on your face. You tried to keep politely declining his offer to join him for the night but the man finally had enough as he grabbed your wrist. "I'll show you what happens to wenches like you who think they're too good for the world...little brat'' he drawled as his eyes traveled down your body hungrily. Within a matter of a few seconds, the man let out a sharp scream of pain as the whole pub fell silent and the chatter around you ceased at once

"She said no...'' said Thomas in a cold voice as he glared at the man who tried to have his way with you and twisted his hand till the man fell on his knees, writhing and groaning in pain. "Pathetic...next time you do something like that, I'll be sure to actually cut your bloody hand off and feed it to the dogs'' said Thomas as he looked down at the man in contempt as the man whimpered and got up and left. Thomas looked at you as you thanked him and he waved his hand dismissively telling you it was nothing, Deep down, secretly, there was a part of him that was glad he could just help you in time. Your friend Russell arrived into the pub a few seconds later as he looked at Thomas with a slightly pale expression on his face. "How about you be punctual on time and not make a lady wait...'' said Thomas as he glared at Russell before he went back to join the others at the booth and continued to stare at you and Russell talking with each other. He hated the feeling that was rising in his chest when he saw you talking to someone else, it was a bitter feeling bubbling inside him

Russell and you talked about your old school memories and how things were back in your childhood days as the two of you caught up with each other on what was going on in each other's lives. Thomas couldn't stand the way you were laughing at that moron's dull jokes, as he scoffed slightly to himself. He saw Russell hugging you which made him clench his fists till his knuckles turned white and he couldn't understand why the hell he was behaving like this for someone he'd just met. Yet, he didn't like the feeling of seeing you with that dimwit. Congratulations, you've managed to spike his curiosity regarding you so you now have the most dangerous mobster in all of Birmingham at your back. He's determined to find out more about you when he's determined to do something, he takes his task at hand very seriously

He'll have Arthur and John dig up information regarding you for him, everything from your history to your daily activities and your likes and dislikes. He's a complete stalker and blends really well in the shadows, his family don't even call him out for his behavior, they're just glad he's finally found someone to love and don't see anything wrong with his obsessive and possessive behavior towards you. Polly is looking forward to making you a part of the family as soon as possible. He'll start off slow, getting to actually know you personally and talking to you. He likes your company and likes hearing your voice. It soothes him and whenever you tell him something about yourself, he'll just smirk slightly to himself since he already knows everything about you, nothing he hasn't heard of before but he'll still play along for your sake

He'll start leaving little gifts at your doorstep like your favorite chocolates or a pretty dress for you to wear or something like that or some of your favorite flowers. You have a feeling like you're being stalked and when you rush to him for protection, his eyes glint with amusement, oh you sweet child, you truly had no idea. But all the same, he's glad and pleased he was the first one to come to your mind when you felt like you needed protection and he's more than willing and pleased to protect you and keep you safe. Rivals? What rivals? He's Thomas FOOKIN Shelby of the Peaky Blinders, when he wants something, he gets it. It's best if you don't know how many people's he's killed for daring to get too close to you. He'll either send John and Arthur to abduct the schmuck in the middle of the night and take the person to a deserted secluded location where Thomas will just use a single bullet to put the lousy scumbag who dared to lay his filthy eyes on you to put them to sleep permanently

He WANTS you to rely on him, it just feeds into that god complex ego of his, but also because he loves you, in his own twisted manner of course. He hates it when you show interest in someone else who's not him, it's like you're insulting him to his face and telling him that he's not good enough for you. Deep down he's just insecure and he doesn't want to lose you, he's already lost plenty of important people in his life and the last thing he wants is to lose you too

He's a control freak, he wants to know EVERY thing that happens in your life and his men are ALWAYS watching your every move. He finally decides to take things to the next step and approaches your parents to ask them for permission to marry you while you aren't in the house. Your father is slightly surprised to see Thomas standing outside his house as he invites him in and after the usual small talk and serving tea, Thomas clears his throat and decides to speak. "Sir...I would like to marry your daughter'' he said as the atmosphere became slightly tense. "Mr. Shelby, with all due respect, I am a father who wishes the best for his daughter. I know what kind of man you are Mr. Shelby, my daughter shall not marry a man as dangerous as you where her life would be at stake constantly or get thrown into the madness of the underworld. Please refrain from seeing my daughter again'' said your father in a firm tone as your mother agreed with his words. Thomas had to hand it to your dad, he was a gutsy courageous man who could actually stand up to him which would make things far more interesting

Seeing your parents and asking them for their permission was merely a formality, he already made preparations to being you to Arrow House which even your parents could not stop. "Mr. L/N, you are a smart man, a father who's willing to protect his darling daughter and I admire that to a certain extent. Your daughter WILL be mine one way or another, coming to see you was just a mere formality. Good day'' said Thomas as he put on his hat and enjoyed the way your father's expression turned pale at his words

That night after you returned back home from your publishing office and you set your books down, during dinner, you saw your parents looking slightly tense and nervous than usual. "Mom, dad...what's the matter'' you asked them gently as they stared at you with mournful looks on their faces. Your mother took a shaky breath before she spoke "Darling...your father and I love you very much, but you...you need to leave Birmingham immediately. It's for your own good'' You stared at them in shock, what were they saying? "Mom, dad... have I...have I become a burden to you both?'' you whispered as your eyes welled up with tears. "Shush child. Don't say such nonsense. You are the light of our lives but that man Thomas Shelby is a dangerous man...he's a relentless monster who wants to make you his and I'll be damned to let my darling daughter get married to a monster like him...you are to leave Birmingham immediately. We've already packed your trunk, you'll be taking the next train to Istanbul where you'll be staying with your aunt and uncle there for a while...it's just temporary my dear...hopefully'' said your father in a gentle tone as he sighed heavily and his eyes welled with tears too

"Mom...dad...I don't want to go, please...'' you said as you sniffed sadly. "It is not up for argument pumpkin, it's for your safety'' said your mother as she said as her voice cracked with emotion and she gulped down a glass of water. After dinner was over, you sat in the carriage with Russell who helped you with your trunk and you hugged your parents as tears streamed down your cheeks, you didn't know how long it would be before you'd get to see them again. You made it to the railway station and got out of the carriage as Russell helped you with your trunk. "It's for your own good you know, Thomas Shelby is a dangerous man...your parents are right. I'll miss you, don't worry, we'll keep in touch with letters'' said Russell as he placed a comforting arm around your shoulder. There weren't any people at the station since it was midnight but you thought it might work in your favor, unaware of what the universe had in store for you

"Step away from my future wife before I shoot you'' said a familiar voice nearby as you saw Thomas and the rest of the men from his Peaky Blinders gang head towards you. Your eyes widened in horror as you tried to back away from them when Russell stood in front of you to protect you from them. "Leave her alone Shelby'' he said. "Tch...how annoying, you know, I'm not a man with regrets but I regret not killing you that day at the Garrison. Not to worry, that can be arranged today'' said Thomas as he brought out a revolver and after a loud bang, your dear friend Russell was now on the ground dead, his eyes looking lifeless as the blood oozed out from his wound and you let out a scream of horror as tears streamed down your eyes. The train to Istanbul was approaching as you saw the train from a distance and your heart almost leapt from relief, this was your chance to escape and leave

John and Arthur held you by your arms and prevented you from escaping as you flailed and screeched on top of your lungs. "Shhh... don't worry, you'll be happy with me. Just be a good girl for me...I'll keep you safe'' he said and those were the last words you heard from him before a rag was placed on your face and you passed out. His passion for your love is beautiful and terrifying at the same time, laced with extreme obsessiveness and devotion to keep you safe. Love truly was the most powerful force of all...

[five-rivers]

Sleeping Mask

AO3

For @modordracena @artichokebean @ventisettestars

.

The thing about created objects is that they have intentions.  A book is meant to be read.  A bed is meant to be slept in.  A knife is made to cut.  A door is meant to open.  

This, of course, extends even to objects not created by mankind.  A bird's nest.  A fox's den.  These things have meaning, purpose.  

This extends also to ghosts.  Perhaps, with regard to ghosts, it is even accentuated.  Imbued with the unlife of ectoplasm, an object with intention might also find itself with a measure of will.  

Danny knew this both experimentally and instinctively.  It wasn't only dead meat and vegetable matter that rose in the Fenton household, and Danny wasn't half ghost for nothing.  

The mask would have been suspicious even if it didn't remind Danny strongly of one of his enemies.  This mask wasn't exactly the same as Nocturne's, the features were rounder, softer, more delicate and generic, but there was enough similarity there for Danny to be on guard.  The color, the shape, the texture, the dark arcs that lead from the brow to the tip of the nose, the horns that cupped the sides and served as a place to tie on the long, wide, black ribbons…  All of them called back to Nocturne.  

Things like this were made for a reason.  Somehow, Danny doubted that reason was to decorate a pawnshop window.  

He made sure the lid on the thermos was tightly pressed down before going in.  The last thing he needed was for the ghost he had chased here to cause problems on top of everything else.

The pawnshop smelled musty and old.  A thick layer of dust lay on most surfaces, interrupted here and there by finger marks, handprints, and oddly shaped patches that were either clear or at least had a little less dust.  The only fully living creature in the store was the bored-looking college-age man manning the desk.  

There weren’t even any flies, as far as Danny could tell.

Creepy.  

Danny approached the desk.  “Hi,” he said.  

“No, we don’t have public restrooms,” said the man in a practiced tone.  “We’re not discriminating, they don’t meet the city’s requirement for them to be public because they aren’t wheelchair accessible.  File your complaints with the city.”

“Uh,” said Danny, who hadn’t even heard of that ordinance.  “No.  I was wondering where the mask in the window came from?”

“Hm?  I dunno.  Storage?  We hold onto stuff for a while before we sell it.”

Danny kept his comments about how unhelpful that was to himself.  “How much is it?”

“Mm,” said the man.  “Fifty.”

Danny rummaged in his pockets.  “I’ve got thirty and a candy bar.”  He placed the offerings on the counter.  “It’s full size,” he added, temptingly.

“I can see that.  I’m not supposed to barter.”

“If it makes you feel better,” said Danny.  “It’s probably haunted.”

“Wow.  That’s probably the first time I’ve ever heard that.  About anything.  Ever.”

“No, really,” said Danny.  “My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton.  Here, you see this?”  He flashed the thermos readout at the man, hoping that he’d never seen one before.  “It says that there’s something haunted here.”

The man looked less skeptical.  

“I can show you my school ID if you’d like,” offered Danny.  “But I could call them if you don’t believe me.”

“Ugh.  Fine, whatever.  I’m not paid enough to deal with any of that.”  The man snatched the money and candy off the counter.  "Knock yourself out."

Danny nodded and tried not to feel too bad about the disappearance of his allowance.  He had a nefarious plot to stop.  Or something.  He took the mask from the window display and turned back to the counter.  

"Do you need to scan it or–?"

"Does it look like it has a barcode?  Just get out."

Danny didn't need to be told twice.  Which left him standing in the middle of the street with a cursed (?) mask. 

What the heck was he going to do with this now?  He frowned at the sculpted face, which was looking less and less like Nocturne the longer he looked at it.  It was too… young, he decided.  Sleeping an innocent kind of sleep.  

He could always hide it somewhere at home, but he had a feeling that would come back to bite him.  He could… give it back to Nocturne, maybe.  There was a certain kind of fairy-tale logic there that appealed to him.  On the other hand, Nocturne was a massive jerk with a habit of magically roofie-ing people, so Danny was, understandably, leery of going anywhere near him.  

He tilted the mask from side to side.  He’d thought that the whole closed eyes look was an illusion, like how mascot eyes were actually see-through, but he was beginning to think they weren’t.  Which meant that this mask had to be decorative… or maybe a death mask.  An unsettlingly large number of cultures had those.  Flying through a community in the Zone where those death masks had literally become the ghosts’ faces was always creepy.  

If it wasn’t meant to be worn, why have the ties?  

He flipped it over and looked at the back.  The darkness inside twinkled with stars.  Then it pulsed and lunged towards Danny’s face.  

.

Being an Ancient was wonderful, in many respects.  Power, riches, luxury, admiration.  Worship, even, and a smooth road both ahead and behind.  Oh, there were wrinkles here and there.  Dictators to overthrow, tests to be given, havoc to wreak.  But wasn’t it better that way?  Wasn’t life sweeter with a little salt?

Not that Nocturne would know about life.  

There was, however, one particular difficulty Nocturne could do without.  One problem that all of the Ancients had to deal with separately.  A weakness.  Anything and anyone so powerful had to have one.  For the Ancients, these were objects, tools, that contained enough of themselves and their power that, in the wrong hands, could be used to either siphon away their power or even control them.  

For Clockwork, it was the Key that wound his internal clock, currently and unfortunately in the hands of the Observants.  For Sojourn, it was the Map, kept safe by the ever-steadfast denizens of the Far Frozen.  For Vortex, it was the Barometer, which he had been bound to against his will.  For Undergrowth, it was the elemental Seed from which he had sprouted.  For Pandora, it was the Box around which so much of her legend had been formed, guarded jealously in her Labyrinth.  Nephthys was the only one of the Ancients who seemed to be an exception, but Nocturne suspected that she merely hid hers better.  

Nocturne’s weakness was the Mask.  A portion of his identity was bound up in it, and if worn by someone who knew his name, it would allow the wearer to take on his identity.  Among other, even less desirable effects.  

He didn’t worry about it terribly much.  He’d hidden it away in the human world, far from where anyone knew about him.  And even if someone did find it, the Mask was twistier, slipperier than the Key.  It had its own fully-formed will, and that will was not one that would easily consent to being used.  A wearer would have his own problems with the Mask, sure enough.  

At least, that had been Nocturne’s attitude about the situation until this very second of this very minute of this very day.  

He had been disastrously wrong about the ‘no one will find it’ portion of his assumption.  He had, further, been incorrect in his unspoken assumption that the Mask would not be changed by its long absence from his presence.  

But the unpleasantness of both those realizations paled in comparison to that of finding himself sharing a body with not one but two other consciousnesses, both familiar to him.  

The Mask giggled and, metaphorically speaking, leaned back, taking its hands off the reins now that the damage was done.  Meanwhile the boy, Phantom, whimpered and whined and futilely tried to pull the Mask off.  

Nocturne’s body, or what passed for his body under the circumstances, dripped and slid from the reverse side of the mask, its starstruck and well-sculpted glory reduced to that of thick, viscous, glittery goo, and constrained to remain on the boy’s skin, bound to the physical body of the Mask as much as boy was.  

Nocturne snarled at the Mask, reminding it of its true master.  In reply, the Mask tied its black ribbon in an elaborate bow on the back of Phantom’s head.  Unnecessary, considering its powers, but an obvious message.  It wasn’t going anywhere unless Nocturne made it.  

Very well, then.  He would.  

Somehow.  

Of course, the first order of business was to deal with Phantom.  

Limited or not, Nocturne still had his powers, and he threw some Phantom’s way.  The child hadn’t even noticed that he was no longer alone in his own head, but his panic certainly increased when he started to fall asleep.  Thankfully, that only lasted a minute before Nocturne had him smothered in mostly-pleasant dreams.  

Although, how long that would last was anyone’s guess.  Phantom had proven capable of both lucid dreaming and blindly finding a way past Nocturne’s powers.  

The Mask, meanwhile, radiated obvious disappointment.  Nocturne would have told it to get over itself, but he didn’t currently have a mouth and Phantom’s was well blocked by the combined forces of the Mask and Nocturne’s current form.  The same went for the rest of Phantom’s facial features.  Nocturne was glad, then, that he did not need eyes to see.  

He picked Phantom up off the pavement - only stumbling a little bit when confronted with the unnatural solidity of the body - and looked around, mentally sneering at the overly mundane and shabby street.  Of all the things he found incomprehensible about Phantom, the fact that he chose to defend such a drab and uninteresting place was certainly the most perplexing.  

Now, to business.  To remove the Mask, Nocturne would need access to his tools.  His tools were in the Ghost Zone, in his lair.  Therefore, his first act must be to access the Ghost Zone.  

Walking through a human city like this…  Nocturne raised one of Phantom’s arms and observed the way the inky, starry blackness of his body clung to the pale limb and wrapped around it.  No.  Nocturne did not believe this was a state that would go unremarked on, even if he could somehow disguise the Mask.  

How annoying.  Of course, he could simply become invisible for the duration of his travel.  It wasn’t as if it was hard.  He followed his thoughts with actions, and quieted Phantom again as he stirred.  

Now.  Where did Phantom lair?  Nocturne had visited it before; traveling through the portal made it difficult to avoid Phantom’s home, such as it was.  But he didn’t know where it was from here.  

The Mask continued to snicker.  

Nocturne would simply have to canvass the city until he came across something he recognized.  

He took off, flying slowly.  He didn’t want to miss anything, and he was unclear regarding what speeds Phantom could comfortably survive.  As much as he disliked the current state of affairs, he didn’t want to be stuck puppeting a corpse.  That would be disgusting and terribly gauche.  

But the use of his powers seemed to agitate Phantom, who strained against the dream Nocturne had so generously constructed for him.  The drain on his limited form tired him quickly, and he landed on the roof of a nearby skyscraper.  He still could not see Phantom’s home.  Had the child been visiting another city?  Had the building been changed somehow?  

His thoughts were interrupted by a blue-white portal forming only a few feet away.  

Ah.  Excellent.  The Mask’s escapades must have troubled time itself.  He turned to greet his old frenemy and fellow Ancient, Clockwork.  

But the being that came through the portal wore an expression Nocturne had never seen on Clockwork’s face in all his years of knowing the other ghost.  Rage, pure, simple, righteous, and barely contained.  

“Release him,” ordered Clockwork, raising his staff threateningly.  

In that moment, Nocturne recalled two very important things.  One, Phantom, despite most ghosts agreeing that he was an insufferable, incorrigible brat, was a favorite of Clockwork, Ancient Master of Time.  Two, Nocturne had taken great pains to conceal the nature of his principle weakness from his fellow Ancients, especially Clockwork, who was already compromised by the loss of his.  

As such, Clockwork and Nocturne were seeing two very different situations.  

And Nocturne could not possibly explain what was really going on to Clockwork via mime.  He leapt off the building.

A blue-white portal opened underneath him, and, for a while, he knew no more.  

.

Danny woke to the sensation of someone running their fingers through his hair.  It wasn’t a feeling he usually liked, but for some reason it felt very good today, and he leaned into it.  It was a strange contrast to how awful the rest of his body felt, especially his mouth, which tasted like something had died in it.

“Ah, Daniel,” said Clockwork, “you’re awake.”

That… was not normal.  He tried to open his eyes and sit up, but found himself unable to do either thing.  His eyes were pressed closed and his arms were pinned down.  He whined, deep in his throat, unable to do much else.  

“Shh,” said Clockwork, “shh.”  To Danny’s vague embarrassment, the reassurance did help.  “Daniel, you’re safe.  I’m taking care of you.  Do you remember what happened?”

Danny shook his head minutely, not wanting to dislodge Clockwork’s hands.

“You’ve been possessed,” explained Clockwork.  “I am attempting to remove the problem.  The medium of possession was a mask.  Do you remember the mask?”

This time, Danny nodded.  

“Good,” said Clockwork.  His hands shifted position, and now he rubbed the skin behind Danny’s ears.    “That’s good.  I know this must be stressful for you.  At the moment, I have you restrained because the beings possessing you have been trying to escape.”

Danny shuddered.  Beings?  Trying to escape?  He didn’t want to think about what these beings might want with him and his body.  Thank goodness Clockwork had found him.  

“But it’s alright,” continued Clockwork.  “I believe the measures I have taken will prevent them from exercising control over you, for the time being.  Unfortunately, the mask…”  He trailed off, running his finger around the rim of what had to be the mask.  Danny twitched at the odd sensation.  

“We may need to let them retake control to fully banish them, however,” warned Clockwork.  “But, for now, I thought a rest would be more beneficial.  Would you agree?”

Danny nodded again.  For all that he had been asleep, a break sounded like a good idea.  Especially if moving forward meant letting someone else control his body.

“Very good,” said Clockwork, hands returning to the top of Danny’s head.  

Somehow, it felt even better this time, and his core purred, low, shaky, and not quite catlike.  It was a recent development, his core doing that, and this was the first time it didn’t startle him.  

Overhead, Clockwork chuckled.  “Just relax, Daniel,” he said.  

Daniel did.  

.

Clockwork, Nocturne realized, didn’t just have some loose affection for Phantom.  He adored him.  Perhaps even loved him.  Certainly, he was possessive over him, using Phantom’s indisposition as a bonding opportunity, encouraging and engendering a helpless trust.  

Nocturne could respect that, if grudgingly.

Slowly, Phantom sank back into sleep.  Of course he did.  Immobile, eyes closed, relaxed… It would be more surprising if he didn’t.  

Nocturne’s control was abruptly switched with Phantom’s.  

“If you harm him,” said Clockwork, pleasantly.  “I will destroy you.”

Nocturne had no good way to respond, so he didn’t.  

“I will give you a writing utensil.  You will use it to tell me exactly how to remove Daniel from your influences.  Nod if you understand.”

Nocturne, not seeing what else to do, nodded.  

“Good.”  Clockwork freed one of Phantom’s limbs and put a pencil into it.  “Write.”

Let me return to my lair and I shall remove Phantom myself.

“Unacceptable.”  

Rarely had Nocturne seen Clockwork so blunt.  However.

I see no reason to cooperate with you, then.  Eventually, you must release me, for the sake of the boy if nothing else.  

A nasty, thin smile raised the corners of Clockwork’s mouth.  “Is that so?  Will you still feel that way when I tell you that I can imprison both of you within Daniel’s psyche indefinitely?  Perhaps I would not be able to remove you, but you would have no control.  Daniel would not be pleased with that scenario, but he would adapt.  I myself would not be opposed to Daniel residing in my lair on a semi-permanent basis.  So.  Think carefully.”

If Nocturne had a face at the moment, he would have scowled.  

Very well, he wrote, this is what you will need to do.

.

Danny woke up slowly, his eyes fluttering open but not really registering what they were seeing for several minutes.  Then he realized he was seeing and sat up.  Tried to sit up.  He was being held quite firmly in Clockwork’s arms.  

Clockwork smiled down at him.  “How are you feeling?” Clockwork asked.  

“Better,” croaked Danny.  “You saved me.  I thought you couldn’t do that.”

“Not usually,” said Clockwork.  “But when another Ancient has interfered, I have slightly more wherewithal to act.”  He lifted Danny’s chin with his fingers and tilted his head from side to side.  “I was afraid of that.”

“Afraid of what?”

“That particular variety of control occasionally leaves traces,” said Clockwork.  “Think of it as being somewhat similar to exposure to radiation.  Even when the source of it is gone, the effects linger.”

“What did it change?” asked Danny.  

Clockwork smiled and released Danny’s chin.  “Nothing you need to worry about terribly much.  You may have a bit of glitter in your skin from now on.”

Danny made a face.  “Being possessed by… Nocturne?”

“It was Nocturne, yes.”

“It gave me the glitter plague?”  Danny started rubbing at his face.  

“Hardly a plague,” said Clockwork.  His smile fell away.  “You will let me know if you feel any internal changes, won’t you?”

“Is that something I have to worry about?” asked Danny.

“Hm,” said Clockwork, putting the tips of his fingers on Danny’s chest, right over his core.  It started to purr.  Loudly.  “Perhaps.”

“That doesn’t count.  Does it?”

“Not particularly,” said Clockwork, wrapping his arms around Danny and forcing him to lie back down.  

“I should probably go home… It was getting towards the end of the day.”

“I’ll make sure you get home on time, whenever you want to go.”

Danny sighed.  “Okay,” he said, snuggling closer.  

“You’ll have sweet dreams from now on.”

“Huh?”

“Consider it rent from your erstwhile roommates.”  

[lupineaerosol]

traveler pt. 2 | thomas shelby x f!reader

not my gif! dm for credit

pairing : thomas shelby x fem! time traveled reader

word count : 4265

summary : your first day of work at the Garrison, and a meeting with the inspector looms over your head. things may be going perfectly for you, but how quickly can that change?

warnings : alcohol mentioned, ptsd and a panic attack, broken glass(?)

a.n.: LOTS of harry fenton interactions + we finally meet thomas!!! lowkey gonna have moments of other characters x reader but trust!! the plot in my head is so good and im begging yall to just trust my crazy process <3 if anyone has any issues with the content or what i write about because it goes against anything online please let me know so i can fix it!!

not my gif! dm for credit

-

The sun kissed gently at your eyes through the frosted glass above your head in the booth. Your neck ached from the uncomfortable position you had slept in, the muscles screaming at you to be at a different angle. You had woken up shivering in the night, had put on your hoodie from your trunk, and to your luck, you were the only person in the bar. It would be a sticky situation trying to explain the item of clothing to Harry. Taking the thick item of clothing off to shove back into the leather case that sat in the aisle at the end of the booth, the crisp February air threw a chill into your bones and you immediately wished you were able to keep the jacket on. 

No better way to warm up than to start moving. Your eyes scanned across the dusty Garrison for a broom. There has to be one somewhere here, maybe a little looking around won’t be so rude. Harry did agree to my help this morning. 

Soft footsteps across the intricate marble floor were the only sound within the building, other than the distant booming of the factories down the road. You first checked the isolated corner room that waited by the front door. The door opened smoothly, the stained glass art framed beautifully by the wood. A table and a few chairs were scattered around, empty ashtrays and a few cigarette boxes in a tidy stack. The small window to the bar was open, the wood bleached in an intricate pattern of previously spilled liquors. 

Turning back to the main room, the stairway beaconed an investigation. Stepping lightly through the dust and dirt that scattered the floor, and a thorough investigation left you believing the stairs had no intention of keeping secrets from you. A rattle of the two doorknobs of the rooms behind you made it clear that without lockpicking experience you wouldn’t be getting into them. A swift inspection behind the bar left you empty handed, but the room behind the bar seemed more promising for cleaning items. Your eyes scanned the boxes and shelves of liquor and cigarettes but nonetheless, there was still no sign of a simple fucking broom. How can a bar operate without a broom??

The front door of the Garrison slammed shut and the sound of keys jingling made your adrenaline spike. “‘Ello? Miss (y/n)?” Harry’s voice echoed through the building. 

“Good morning,” Your bare feet padded softly out of the back room, slightly ashamed at being caught snooping around. Rounding the corner of the bartop, you greeted Harry with a curt wave. “I was just looking for a broom, I figured I could start working before you got here.” You spoke truthfully, and as gently as you could. Harry didn’t seem to be the type of man quick to anger, but you weren’t about to take any chances. 

“Oh,” A smile lit his face. “Thank you! That’s quite nice of you ma’am.” He carried his coat around to the back room and hung it on a coat rack. Turning to open a thin and carefully crafted door to his right, he reached in and revealed two brooms, leaning to hand you one. The weight was moderate, but the wood was soft in your hands, easy to use. “I’ll be checking stock back here, you can start whenever you would like.”

“I’ll be out here I suppose.” You carried the broom to the darkest corner of the Garrison and started there. A quickly forming dust cloud swirled around your bare feet that had finally warmed up against the tiles. The rhythm and sway of the broom comforted you, staring at the ground with a simple task reminded you of your chores at home. Harry puttered around the bar around you, wiping down the tables and chairs, cleaning dishes and writing tally marks in a small book. 

Small talk filled the time between the two of you, and you indulged trust in him to explain that you had no clue where you had come from after waking up in Inverness, but had traveled all day yesterday in an attempt to get to London. You also talked about your financial situation, to which Harry sympathized. There was no possibility of getting to London, feeding and clothing yourself, and being able to afford a boat to New York.

“Have you considered staying here, in Birmingham? Traveling to London with 10 pounds in your pocket is no way to travel. You could stay and earn some money before leaving again.” Harry asked, looking up from the section of the bar he had been scrubbing. “There are plenty of jobs around here, and a room upstairs I would let you rent.” Hope bloomed in your chest.

“You’re serious?” You turned to face him with a wide smile. “That would be phenomenal! I could open the Garrison in the mornings if I lived here, that way you wouldn’t have to be up so early in the morning to clean and fix everything up.” Your proposition of a job settled on Harry’s mind, he had been quietly looking to add an extra set of hands to the team. 

He paused to chew on the idea. “I wouldn’t mind a few more hours with the wife in the morning.” He placed the dish rag in his hand down onto the bartop, tilted his head from side to side and then nodded. He lifted his hand out to yours to shake in a deal. “Rent is 10 pounds a month, pay is 2 pounds a day. You’ll work from 8 in the morning until you’d like to leave, we can tally the hours together later on.”

You swiftly wiped your hands on Isa’s gifted skirt, reaching out and shaking Harry’s hand. “You will not regret this, mister Fenton. I promise you.” 

-

The sun had risen and the movement in the building had warmed it slightly. The bar had been open since 10, and Harry had continued to instruct you on assorted tasks, and it seemed you were no longer loitering but forging a place serving drinks at the bar. People were friendly to you, mostly men who had been out all night drinking had stumbled in to spend all morning drinking. That seemed to be the state of Small Heath, people down on their luck trying to create a life for themselves. Maybe it was fate that had dropped you here, and after suddenly gaining a job it seemed hard to debate that destiny had laid the cards for you. 

You had been watching the time tick anxiously, trying to figure out what to do about your appointment with the Inspector. You had decided against trying to acquire a visa, at least for a few months to save money, but became increasingly concerned about his dedication to helping you. Would he try to track me down while I’m staying here? What if he enjoys drinking here at the Garrison? Thoughts and worries swarmed your head as you continued to serve drinks and cigarettes. Maybe stopping off to explain you don’t need the visa anymore would help. Telling him directly that you don’t need or want his help would solve it. You were sure of it. You had told him you would find him today anyways, it would be rude to stand him up, even as uncomfortable as he made you feel.

“Harry, do you mind if I leave for the hour? I met someone on the train yesterday and I arranged a meeting with him this morning.” You had tucked your carrying case behind the bar until you had a chance to see the state of the room upstairs Harry had mentioned. 

“Sure, you’ve been working all morning,” Harry said, running drinks to a small group of men at a table before rushing back behind the bar. “Where are you off to?” 

“The police station, there was a policeman that told me he could get me a visa home, I need to explain I don’t need it anymore.” You leaned over the bar to explain it to him quietly. 

“A copper? What’s his name? I have a cousin in the force that was on the train yesterday.” Harry asked enthusiastically.

It took you a second to recall any other name than ‘Inspector’. “I believe his name was Chester Campbell, Inspector Chester Campbell.” Your head tilted slightly when Harry’s emotions stayed the same. “I assume that isn’t your cousin.” You lightly laughed.

“Never heard the name.” Harry smiled in a friendly way. “But the police station is a few blocks from here, but there’s signs that mark the way.” His directions were vaguely helpful.

“I’m off then, I’ll be back before lunch.” Your shoes padded quietly out the door and onto the gravel of Garrison street, following the signs towards the police station as quickly as possible.

-

“Excuse me, is Inspector Campell here?” You leaned over the receptionist’s desk, a small and stout man writing on a pad of paper grunted a response.

“Down the hall and on the right, take the stairs and his office is on the left.” His voice was gruff and his bushy beard barely moved when he spoke to you.

“Thank you.” You attempted to follow the second set of bad directions given to you today, and eventually found yourself on the second floor and face to face with the words ‘Inspector’s Offices’. You take a deep breath before knocking on the frosted glass.

“The door is open.” The all-too familiar voice of the man who made the last leg of your travel agony rattled through the door frame. A second breath and you turn the handle and push through, walking through the threshold to see a large desk, chair, and the inspector standing, hands clasped behind him, with his back to you looking out the window.

“Good morning,” The room reverberated with your words and echoed slightly. The Inspector turned over his shoulder to identify you, it seemed your voice wasn’t enough to remind him who you were. “I hope I’m not interrupting you.”

“Not at all, ma’am.” He stepped closer to the desk, neatly organized papers and books decorated it fittingly. “It’s good to see you, I expected you to arrive earlier. The train to London has already departed for the day.”

“I know, I chose not to leave.” You had barely ventured into the room, not daring to step across to the man. It was already uncomfortable enough from afar, there was no need to add to it. “And I most likely won’t be needing a visa for a while.”

“Are you staying here in Small Heath? I have to advise against it, murderers and thieves run the streets as if they own them, madam.” Campbell turned the corner on his desk, slow steps toward you.

“I am afraid I’ve already committed to staying, sir.” Your voice was filled with determination. The Inspector’s expression fell further than it had been. “And I thank you for the offer to help me get home, but I must refuse.” Before he could speak again you interrupted him.

“Have a good rest of your day Inspector.” A curt nod and you turned to exit the room swiftly, hoping and praying that the issue was resolved. 

-

The bar had filled up since you left, and it seemed your presence in the Garrison had already been accepted by the building, a different aura had seemed to already stain the wood accents you had spent the morning polishing. Returning to your place behind the gold bar, you serve up a box of cigarettes and a few beers to a man with a middle part (that matched the red sea when Moses made his visit) and his group. Harry greeted you with a small smile and wave from across the room, finally catching that you had returned from your short task out. You began to polish some of the finer glasses when the front door squeaked open. 

A man in a flat cap pushed through both sets of doors to the Garrison, the rough texture of his jacket silhouetted over his frame like a man who had influence. His eyes pulled in the low light of the Garrison and devoured it, gorgeous sky blue tumbling into his dark pupils. He carried himself with a deadly certainty, every step he took was calculated and he didn’t even seem conscious of it. His eyes traveled over to the man you had just served, and he swiftly pulled his hat off, expression unreadable, tossing it onto the bartop like he owned the place. The others at the bar swiftly left to a different seat in the building, far away from the man who walked into the building as if he could lay it to rubble with a few words. It seemed that everyone was afraid of the man, and you agreed with them, you would not want to cross this man in any way. 

Harry was quick to rush over next to you, carrying a bottle of fine Irish whiskey and a glass. “On the house, Mr. Shelby.” He popped the cork off the bottle and let it settle onto the countertop, before leaving Mr. Shelby to himself. A pinstriped shirt beneath his jacket and a tight collar around his neck. He placed a few coins gently onto the metal surface of the bar, and strained around to once again look across at the group in the corner. Mr. Middle part stood and finished his beer, and spun to walk over slowly and situate himself at the bar with the largely intimidating man who had barged in seconds ago. The Middle Part ordered a mild beer from Harry, ignoring your presence with skill. 

“Cheers, Thomas. Good health to you.” Thomas Shelby. The name of the powerful individual across the bar made goosebumps surge from your shoulders to your fingertips. Deeply unsettling people must just love the Birmingham aura. You made a point to busy yourself enough to tune out their conversation, catching bits and pieces of what seemed to be an important exchange of information. The most you caught of the talk was the hidden razors sewn into Mr. Shelby’s hat, a far larger warning of his habits than the way he carried himself.

Your attention had been directed at a brave pair who had sauntered up to the bar for the next round, but a far larger man bursting through the doors and almost crashing into a table became the focus. His body barreled into tables, drinks, chairs and liquid flew everywhere. The group within the bar began to go for him, grabbing at his arms and shoulders, trying to gain control of the wildly thrashing man. 

“They’re going to get me!” The panic in the man’s voice was genuine, and he sounded as if he had been chased here, panting between involuntary and fear created noises. Mr. Shelby and his companion took the hysterical man to the floor, pinning him down.

“Breathe, Danny, breathe!!”

“They’re going to get me!!!” He thrashed under the weight of the two men, still able to show his strength from the bottom of the pile. 

“Danny, you’re home. We’re all home in England. You are not in France.” Thomas’ voice was crystal clear, and as calm as he could seem to manage. “You’re not an artillery shell, Danny, you’re a man. You’re not a whizz-bang. You’re a human being, Danny.” A veteran, of course.

The man, Danny, had continued struggling until this point, but seemed to be calming down. You moved quietly to get a glass of cold water for the man, while the boys were finishing soothing the firecracker personified. 

“I’m so sorry Mr. Shelby, I’m sorry.” Danny had begun to weep, and you chose this as the moment to approach with the cup of water. 

“Water?” You drew nearer to the three slowly and tentatively, handing the glass to the extended arm of Mr. Shelby, who then handed it to Danny. All three men gave a small look of appreciation to you. He downed it in a quick chug and threw a quick ‘thank you’ your way before moseying to the front doors with the others.

“You go home to your wife now, Danny. Try and get all the smoke and mud out of your head, eh?” Mr. Shelby instructed, and ushered Danny out of the building. An unease settled over the patrons of the bar as the doors swang closed, men scattered around the room in a crescent shape around the former commotion. 

Harry spoke up from where he was attempting to return a table to its previously unruined state. “Mr. Shelby, you have to do something about him.”

“You’re damn right, Harry.” The Middle part piped up, seeming to stare imaginary bullets through the back of Mr. Shelby’s head. “You pay the Peaky Blinders a lot of money for protection. You’re the law around here now, Tommy, aren’t you?” 

The intense situation between the two seemed to boil over for a moment, but the rest of their conversation was too quiet to pick up on from your place nearby, cleaning up glass shards. Mr. Shelby carefully pulled his cap back over his hair, and stepped to leave the building, stopping at your side.

“Thank you for the water. Seems like you’re the only person who knows how to handle the aftermath of something like this, good job.” His words were concise, his eyes scanning your dirty skirt and off white blouse. His gaze read details you couldn’t comprehend noticing about yourself, but with a quiet air of approval. At the door he tipped his hat to you  and spoke across the room to Harry, “Send the bill to the Peaky Blinders. We’ll take care of it.” before swiftly exiting the Garrison, shooting a final, trapping glance your way. 

-

You were left with the bar in pieces, chairs and tables broken, glasses shattered. You moved to help Harry with sweeping up shards. A few minutes of silent focus was broken by Harry’s stern voice, a new experience to add to the ever growing list. 

“What you did was very nice, but it’s best to leave those situations in our hands, Mr. Shelby and Mr. Thorne had the situation under control.” Harry looked up from the broom in his hands and spoke lightly but sternly. You assume his meaning of ‘our’ meant the men of mixed shapes and sizes that frequent the Garrison. Your stomach sank a bit, the small breakfast of bread and butter tumbled in your gut. All you had wanted to do was help, and a glass of water barely seemed offensive, but perhaps your modern mindset clouded your judgment.

“I’ll be more careful next time, Mr. Fenton.” Was all the response you could think of. You couldn’t promise that you wouldn’t interfere if something happened again, the image of Danny pinned to the floor flashed through your mind with a shiver.

“Have you worked with veterans before?” Harry’s intrigue about your history popped into conversation. “You seemed calmer than most of the men in here, and that’s truly saying something.” 

You hesitated with a response. A college friend of yours had severe panic attacks quite frequently, and you were practically trained to handle other people’s terror in a collected way. There were many moments you had to give a similar pep talk that Mr. Shelby had drilled into Danny.

“A close friend of mine. The war tore her apart, too many cases of trench foot and a few too many close calls with hand grenades.” You improvised, while lifting the dustpan of glass shards from the floor and rose from where you had been sitting on your knees. “I usually was the one to calm her down when her family couldn’t.” 

“Was she a nurse?” Harry queried, alluding to France and the war while moving to the next section of glass and spilled beer. You nodded quickly, trying your hardest to end the conversation. I have got to figure out a backstory.

Quiet chatter of patrons filled the building, distant thuds and banging from the factories. People filed into and out of the Garrison, and the place was empty enough in the afternoon before quitting time that Harry handed you a key and dismissed you to go settle into the room upstairs.

Grabbing your trunk from its hidden place behind the bar, you hurried up the stairs and unlocked the door, dust and darkness floating out of the small bedroom and attached room with a sink. It was quaint, definitely small, but certainly not a shoebox. A bed situated in the corner and slightly under what seemed to be the only window. A large dresser against the wall on your left,  a full-length mirror nestled between the other wall and the dresser. It was otherwise quite plain and derelict. You crossed the room and tugged open the shades and pulled the window up with a loud squeak, and immediately the noise of Small Heath joined you in the room. You started dusting and airing out the old sheets and blankets, folding what clothes you had from Isa and tucking them into the large dresser, hiding the futuristic clothes you traveled in within the trunk and under your bed.

You took the time before the rush to change into a few of the other clothes you had, a deep burgundy skirt and a second white blouse. The puffed sleeves ended at your elbows, a  small ruffle running from shoulder to shoulder aiming in a point down to your belly button. A quick swipe of a rag over the standing mirror in the corner opposing the door and you stepped back. All things considered, you didn’t look too out of place, a few changes to your hair and you looked like any other lady striding down the street. The blouse didn’t fit too strangely on your figure, and the skirt was hanging perfectly on your figure. 

The ticking of a clock above the doorway became apparent to you, and with a fast glance you read ‘5:13’ on its face. The rush hour drinking would start in a few minutes, and Harry would need your help. Tidying the last bits of your new home to your taste, you strung the key on a string around your neck and tucked it down into your blouse before stepping into the hallway and down the stairs.

The chatter of the Garrison was already lively, the warm lights casting a homely feeling across the worn faces of men who had worked their day away within the factories and shops of Small Heath. Conversations of strikes at the BSA factory floated through your attention, details about a man named Thorne. I wonder if it’s the same man who helped Danny this morning? 

The time ticked by, your presence collected eyes, and not all of them friendly. Your chats with random patrons were monitored, anything about you was collected to be fed to a devourer of information. Blissfully unaware, you offered a friendly chat to whoever needed one, a lone young man at the bar, a group of old men, any other man who wanted a friendly smile from the new bartender. No one had expected Harry to hire a woman, especially not one from America who talked funny and wouldn’t speak of anything from her past.

9:00, and the bar had calmed somewhat. You were wrapped up in a conversation with Harry and a group of his friends when the table next to yours had just quickly paid and left. Eager to help Harry and prove your place, you toddled to the bar to grab a rag to clean the table, and as you returned to the dirty dishes and silverware, the conversation of Harry’s group had shifted. 

“Where exactly is (Y/N) from in America? I’ve never heard an accent like that.” 

You craned your ears in an attempt to hear Harry’s response. “I’m not quite sure, she never said. I assume California, somewhere west.”

“And so she shows up out of the blue, tough on her money and looking for a place to stay?”

“Stop insinuating that she insisted on staying, she didn't.” Harry considered his response carefully. “I actually suggested she stayed. I’ve been looking for a pretty face behind the bar, she needed a job and a place to stay, I just happened to be able to help. She says she traveled from the north yesterday, she didn't say from where, but somewhere far, she looked wrecked last night.. She’s a sweet one, far too nice for this place.”

You were flattered, but the pressure to come up with a backstory for how you suddenly appeared in Scotland yesterday morning and managed to get to Birmingham while also acquiring a job and apartment was too good to sound true. I could always go with the amnesia plot, play that role for the rest of my time here. 

Harry continued his thought. “I hope this place doesn’t trap her here like it did the rest of us.”

“But you trust her?” Harry hesitated before muttering something far quieter to his mates.

“...ut she’s been nothing but helpful since last night, christ, she slept here in the bar in the middle of February instead of begging to sleep at my home in front of a fire. But no, I don’t think there’s anything sinister about her, I’m not sure if it’s possible.” Harry’s voice grew in volume again, and for the rest of the night you’re focused on what he could have possibly said to the group of men.

-

a.n: i proofread but not all the way through, if the end is weird sorry i tried my best :P had a lot of fun writing this and im glad i actually updated on it instead of forgetting about it and never touching it ever again

[lavendarlily]

yeah of course my first fic for @phicphight is gonna be crack

for the prompt that wasn't a prompt by @faeriekit

am i doing this right?

prompt: PR096 - No prompt, just a note; I can't guarantee I understand the format of the prompts required here.

words: 777

click here to read on ao3

jack stumbles across something troubling, but finds the light at the end of the tunnel.

Finally. He had the house to himself. Jazz was at a study group, Maddie went to test some weapons in the field, and Danny… well, all Jack knew was that Danny wasn’t home. 

Jack loved his family - so incredibly much that it was a miracle you could fit all that love into one man (even one at Jack’s size). Yet between the needs of his children and assisting his wife with her inventions, it was difficult to find a moment for himself. Believe it or not, Jack Fenton did in fact have interests and hobbies outside of ghosts. It was just hard to make time for them, and boy was that new yarn burning a hole in his crafts closet, just waiting to be used. First, there were a few techniques he wanted to research before really digging in.

He fetched the laptop from the basement, and grabbed a soda from the fridge on his way to the living room. Jack settled in, feet resting on the coffee table since Maddie wasn’t home to tell him otherwise. He opened the computer, and groaned to himself when a myriad of open tabs took over the screen.

He’d told the kids so many times! Close your tabs after using the computer! He was always afraid of accidentally closing or deleting something they needed or hadn’t saved. There was also a sense that looking through their history was an invasion of privacy, but whoever had used the computer last would have to give up that privilege. He carefully clicked through the tabs, making sure there wasn’t anything potentially important before exiting out of each one. At least his kids had been doing their homework - Shakespeare analyses, essay writing tips, and hey! They’d found a tutor through some site called ChatGPT that was helping them with their assignment. 

He was almost done, ready to dive into video tutorials on achieving the perfect cross-stitch, when he paused. Though Jack tried not to linger on a page longer than he deemed necessary, this one caught his attention. An all too familiar face stared back at him - multiple faces - arranged against a blue background. Jack squinted his eyes at the search bar, reading it aloud.

“Tum-bl-er,” he said slowly. What the hell was this? Jack was certainly concerned at the amount of Phantom propaganda on the screen, leading to an even more troubling question: Which of his kids had fallen under the ghost boy’s spell to have ended up on a hell-site like this?

He scrolled through post after post of photos taken by Amity Park locals, elaborate drawings of the ghost kid, musings of his origins and whereabouts and… oh gosh… love-life. Who were these people worshiping Phantom like this? And why was Jack still looking at it?

It was like a car crash - he couldn’t look away. However, this led him to one post that finally gave Jack a semblance of hope. 

Phic Phight.

Jack knew he was no genius, but he side-eyed the misspelling and continued to skim through the rest of it. Fighting was all he needed to hear, especially if there was a group of people who idolized Phantom like… this. The ghost kid needed to go. These people needed to be saved from his manipulation! The words “Team Human” jumped out at Jack from the text, and without needing any more convincing that this is where he needed to be, he clicked the link that led to where he could sign up. 

He skipped through all the boring information and went straight into entering his information. There were a few questions he didn’t know how to answer, but he was Jack Fenton! Anyone who was organizing against the ghost problem that plagued Amity Park knew where to find him. 

There were only a few questions left, labeled as “Prompts”. Jack wasn’t too certain what it meant, but he could only envision it as where to leave suggestions for the best ways to defeat and capture Phantom. He entered the words electrocute, net, and Fenton Bazooka. He felt a little guilty for not understanding the entire gist of what was going on, so he also left a quick note for the organizer in hopes they would be forgiving.

Jack clicked the submit button at the bottom of the page and smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to meet all these other folks interested in the well-being of their town. Team Human. It had a nice ring to it. He’d be sure to let Maddie know when she returned - who wouldn’t want the Fentons on their team?

And maybe… he could even get his boy Danny in on it too. 

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 3/?

Prev | Next

Feeling sad and wanted some fluff, so I wrote it. Enjoy

Danny woke up with tears in his eyes. He missed his sisters and his friends. He even missed how his parents, the Fentons, used to love him before they found out he was half-ghost. Danny tried to control his sadness, not wanting to wake up his dad, but he couldn’t help himself.

(It was weird, having the memories of a teenager but the emotional capacity of a child. He knew he should be able to control his emotions better, but he couldn’t.)

Danny sat with his knees drawn up to his chest. Was Jazz okay? Why hadn’t she and Danni been behind him when he came through the portal into Gotham? Was she still alive, or was she injured in the Infinite Realms? Why had Danny been de-aged?

So many questions he couldn’t get answers to. He had no way to access the Infinite Realms.

Danny looked up as the door to his room opened. It was his daddy.

(The teenager in him cringed at the terms ‘daddy’ and ‘papa,’ but the five-year-old in him loved them.)

“Danny-lad, what’s wrong,” his daddy asked. “you’re sad.”

How daddy could still say he wasn’t like Danny, he would never understand. He could feel Danny’s emotions. That’s something only a parent ghost could do with their child!

“I’m sorry, papa, I miss Jazz and Ellie, that’s all.”

Papa frowned, “Don’t worry, chum, I’ll find a way to open the Infinite Realms with the schematics you gave me. Then we’ll look for your sisters.”

Danny let go of his knees and launched himself at his papa. He had no reason to take Danny in, but he did. Papa gave up everything he had ever known and left his haunt so he could take care of Danny.

Danny thought of the figures he had seen in the dark jumping from building to building. White, hot anger suddenly overtook him. How dare they abandon daddy? They don’t deserve him!

“Danny, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled. Daddy didn’t like it when Danny talked bad about his old family. Danny understood; he didn’t like anyone to talk shit about the Fentons, either. That doesn’t mean he didn’t hate them.

“Chum, it’s not their fault,” Of course, daddy knew precisely what Danny was thinking about.

Danny rubbed his eyes, “If—if they came here and wanted to take me away would you let them?”

“What? Of course not, baby. Why would you think that?”

“You miss them; if they told you to give me up to return to the family, would you?”

Danny’s heartbeat was almost at a normal person’s rate as he waited for his dad’s response. Daddy got him and held him close to his chest.

“I miss them sometimes so much it hurts. I’d rather they hate me for the rest of eternity than give you up, habibi.”

Daddy only called him ‘habibi’ when he wanted to reassure Danny.

“And if they asked for forgiveness, would you forgive them?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, baby. I hurt—”

“Yeah, yeah, you hurt them first,” he repeated his dad’s words flippantly, “but don’t you see? I feel the hurt they caused you. I can taste it. You hurt them, yes, but they started it. They did something big that caused you to lash out, daddy.”

Danny tasted the sudden fear that overtook his daddy. It was an instinctual, overwhelming fear. Primal. (He could remember big words but couldn’t remember to control his emotions. That’s bullshi—poopy.”

Danny put his hand on his papa’s cheek and hummed a toneless tune. He projected feelings of safety and love.

“I’m sorry, lad,” papa said a few minutes later, “I was supposed to comfort you, and you comforted me instead. I’m not a good father, am I?”

“You’re the best daddy I’ve ever had,” Danny argued vehemently, “don’t think differently.”

Daddy snorted, “Considering what your last dad did, I don’t think the bar is too high.”

Danny smiled and then yawned.

“It’s time for your bedtime, little boy.”

“I’m sixteen. I can choose my own bedtime.”

Daddy rolled his eyes, “Well until you look and act sixteen, you have a bedtime.”

Danny pouted and then smiled, “Stay with me, daddy.”

Daddy smiled and got as comfortable as he could in the little bed. Father and son slept peacefully that night.

Miles away, a worried sister hiked through the woods with a baby wrapped around her chest. She followed Danny’s ectosignature north.

“Don’t worry, baby brother, I’ll find you.”

She got out to a rest area, and Jasmine Fenton stole a car for the first time in her life.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @vythika96 @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @kilasmess @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange

[just-more-pr0mts]

Danny Phantom promt#3

Classic feild trip au with a bit more common sense

Danny loved feild trips, especially when they took the class out of town to look at things like astronomy towers or doing things like beach clean ups. It was an easy out from school, he got to do something helpful or see something new, and just not do work.

So when Mr Lancer had announced they were going on a feild trip. Danny usally would have been excited, but they were going to Fenton works. His house. And his parent were going to give demonstrations on thier work and 'equipment'.

_________

Danny was running late. Now this was a common occurrence, but when he was late for the trip to his own home...well that might have a bit of explaining to do.

_________

The entrance to Fenton works slammed open, and Jasmine 'Jazz' Fenton,Mr Lancer and class all turned to face the door with a start.

"Im so sorry im late sir" Daniel 'Danny' fenton in all his glory stood panting at the door way. "I forgot we wer- well you were coming here today. And i was in a rush and i didn'tget breakfastand i-"

"It's alright Mr Fenton" Mr Lancer cut in over the A-listers snickering and a heavy sigh from what soundedlike Sam "The tour has not yet started, why don't you go and get breakfast"

Relief washed over danny, "Thank you sir I'll try and be quick about it" he headed over towards the kitchen area dropping his backpack next to a couch which was occupied by some of the students in class. Just before he stepped in, he was cut short by a-

"Hey Danny wait-" Jazz exclaimed as she went and picked up a baseball bat leaning against the wall. "Here" as she tossed him the bat.

He caught it effortlessly "Thanks Jazz, your the best" and went to go and get himself some breakfast.

"What was that all about?" Paulina an A-listers asked from her spot on a couch. "Why does he need a baseball bat?"

"Oh our mom cooked meat loaf last night" Jazz said as if the most obvious thing in the world

Sam and Tucker winced. And the rest of the class along with Mr Lancer looked around in confusion. What does that have to do with anything? Was the question on their minds.

"Miss Fenton if you could please elaborate?" Mr Lancer asked.

"Oh! Silly me, you guys don't live here like those gremlins" she said gesturing toward Sam and Tucker. "Well you see-" she was cut off buy a scream.

"You alright in there?" Jazz said loudly "I found the meatloaf!" Danny screamed back. "Don't forget, dad went and bought apples" "Apples?" Danny questioned. "Yes they're-" "Behind the toASTER" his voice cracked and a clash was heard, things falling over and then silence.

Danny slowly walked out of the kitchen, his shirt singed at the bottom and a stain on his fright sleeve. His head hung low and hair a mess and his face sporting a cut near his hairline. "Hey Jazz.." he started off. " I'm hungry, I didn't have anything since lunch yesterday..do you" he looked up at her, she was heading over to a panel in the wall.

?

She pushed against it with her palm and it opened up. She grabbed a bandage, a bottle pf water and what looked to be a protein bar. "I have to restock again but here" she handed him the protein bar and water and dragged him over to an empty chair and wrapped head.

"It's just a small scratch" He mumbled. "That could get infected which is why I'm using these bandages"

All whilst this is happening the room full of people are looking on in alarm. Danny hasn't eaten for how long? Not because he doesn't have food bit because of what? He's parents must do something right? Why do they have a secret panel of food and first aid equipment?

[tanglepelt]

Run Ghost Run 12

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Batman in Amity and The leauge meets

***

A secret organization, government experiments, and a possible act of war against an entire race. The anti-ecto acts could set off something bad. If the entities were even remotely protective of one another it could be disastrous. This must be rectified quickly. Before it became too late.

It may already be.

A child had been strapped to a table.

The more information and evidence the better the easier to get the acts revoked. Starting with the town that was referenced as an example in them.

Amity Park

The town was a mess. RV-sized holes in buildings bent streetlights, and crushed cars.  An alarm going off everywhere in town. Post with the system at nearly every corner. Warning of a ghost attack and to stay in your homes. That the Fentons or GIW would handle it shortly. Clearly, a pre-recorded message just playing on a loop.

No civilians out and about. Doors and windows are all shut tight.

The entire town is in lockdown.

Making sure their presence remained unknown was the priority. This whole town functioned from the shadows. No communications outside of the city. When connected to a network within the town mentions of the league or heroes just bring up comics. The outside world is wholly hidden away.

Agents in white watching every entrance and exit in town. Patrolling the streets weapons are always manned. None of the agents hadn’t been holding a weapon. Breaking into homes unannounced utilizing the anti-ecto acts. Clearly searching for something… someone, with an escaped child he knew who.  This agency willingly “studied” a child. Steph had described the scene to him.

The league needed to meet.

The FentonWorks lab had been picked clean. Not a single thing left in sight. Just an empty makeshift lab. Where items once stood only a clean surface in their wake. The surfaces were lighter, no dust, and anything there was just gone. The only oddity was scorch marks along the walls and floors of the lab. Indicating weapons or blasts of some kind going off

The “hidden” cameras and listening devices throughout the lab were of no use. Not currently recording and is not set up to the local network. Sd cards were removed and no digital evidence was found. It was all wiped clean.

Snapping photos of what appeared to be a door. One with yellow and black lines across. Metal bars seemingly lock it in place. A glance around and there seemed to be a finger scanner to access the open and close switch on the wall.

They needed all the information they could obtain.

Then they could expose the acts and figure out what can be done regarding these ecto-entities.

They were unknown. This injustice done to one may mean nothing to them. It could be a race that doesn’t care about one another, or it could be extremely protective. Either way, it seemed to be a powerful race.

Especially if the few reports he’d read so far from the GIW were to be believed.

Stephanie and Cass had been frozen in time. The communicators and trackers only resumed at the time they were stopped at. Nothing had continued moving forward if it was just them the internal clocks would be right. The two hadn’t even realized it. Until he showed up already in Illinois when the trackers turned back on.

The two believed it was just a response to the alert Steph had sent. No indication anything had occurred.

Yet the time in Amity was right.

Only a small area had been under the effects.

Time unfroze with the arrival of Danny into Gotham. To be exact when the “darkness” as Duke put it took him. It could be an instance of only one power at a time, a secondary entity helping, and too many other things.

The cleaned-out lab is an indication of one of two factors. Them packing up and moving, or it's being cleaned out by an outside force. Neither is good, their packing up would be the best case. Then it would only be a matter of locating Jack and Maddie Fenton. If an outside force such as the governing body of the very race they targeted, it would be a harder force to deal with.

It was likely an outside force. With the scorch marks in the lab and the mess left from the stairs to the exit. Furniture was knocked down; papers were scattered. Whoever was here was quick to get out.

The two “scientists” did need to be found.

Jack and Maddie Fenton brought the boy to the building. The one where he was hastily patched up and thrown in a cell.

They handed over their own son.

That’s what everything pointed to. The living room is peppered with family photos. Ranging from the children being young and into their teens. Holiday photos where the boy looked ready to smack down with Santa and the mom seemingly yelling at said Santa. Scattered awards and trophies for Jasmine Fenton. A news article on display regarding the discovery of a female purple humpback gorilla. Nothing besides the knocked-down furniture and research notes scattered to indicate anything wrong with the room.

Steph and Cass confirmed the boy in the photo passed out and was forced into that facility. The body frame and outfits the two wore in every photo matched the description of brought him in. Bright orange and blue outfits don’t keep people hidden. One picture included an armored RV with the family in front of it. Green ghost on the side and tracked wheels. A weaponized vehicle that wasn’t within the vicinity of the building. It would have to be marked down they may have it.

All evidence pointed to the parents turning him over.

He’s had enough of FentonWorks.

Constantine had his own pressing world-ending crisis, so yea powerful race.

When Constantine is willing and ready for a meeting. You know something is wrong. The government had messed up badly this time.

Cass and Steph had wrapped up their searches. Cass leaves the daughter's room scrapbook in hand. One filled with clippings of new articles. Things titled such as, Danny Phantom saves kids, Phantom menace, or hero, that was the infinite realms, no more green skies, and even some odd ads. Did skeletons damage your home?

Stephanie has a full NASA backpack and laptop in her hand. No answers are to be had.

Too much work to get done. It was time they headed out. There was an entire hard drive of data to get through before he met with the league.

It was going to be related. An attack on an unknown species and an entire act allowing them to be experimented on and exterminated on sight. He didn’t believe in coincidences.

With Constantine’s now active participation, he had to get moving. The computer could read out reports by files while he got to the watchtower. He’d have to trust Cass and Stephanie to get back to Gotham on their own.

They’d follow through this time. Too much happening back in Gotham for them not to.

With Stephanie and Cass on their way back he made his way to the watchtower.

**

Emerging from the shadows of the watch tower in the meeting room Constantine began the minute he became in view.

“Someone on earth bloody messed with the infinite realms.

Nearly a week ago a warning was sent. One from the infinite realms. It houses all afterlives and dimensions. The infinite realm has always been sealed away from other realms for centuries.”

The realm doesn’t function like Earth. The entire bloody realm is full of ectoplasm, everyone there is linked through it. A single warning would send it to everyone. Everyone would get it.

There are the citizens who take to fights immediately to settle small differences. A warning is no small deal.

Anyone with an inkling of magic would have felt it. Those with ecto even more so. “

Did the kids have ectoplasm in them? All the ones he knew of that experienced the glow had passed. Jason’s silence was enough of a giveaway. The afterlife was supposedly full of this stuff so it would stand to reason that they could have lingering effects.

This brought up questions about the origins of the Lazarus pits, but that would just have to wait.

“The prior king, Pariah Dark, was known for destroying other dimensions for fun. With fright knight by his side and Skelton's army under his command, the citizens actively have world-ending fights inside the realm. It was a bloody no-touch zone. A new king has overthrown Pariah.”

Amity was at the center of it. Green skies, skeleton armies. The articles didn’t elaborate much on who did the fighting, but the town had been sucked in. The Fenton’s as awful as cruel as they seemed had been accredited to forming a ghost shield to protect the people. They just were extremely biased against the “ghosts”.

“Someone bloody well got in contact. Enough that the newly made royal sent us a warning. One of which none of my contacts will enlighten me. Not even if it was a mockery or an actual warning. Jack nothing. Only humans messed up and are doomed. Touching citizens of the realm. Safe to assume a portal.”

The door in the Fenton lab perhaps?

“A day after the warning the realm felt antsy. More beings coming through made portals. One day after that active movement began. Portals are being made from the realm to Earth. Searching for something or someone”

The timeline fit.

“Yesterday Deadman got a bloody warning an evacuation for all ecto beings was being launched. Not one is to stay on earth. A full search of the earth prior to their attack”

That would have been when Daniel first arrived in Gotham. If they were evacuating all ecto beings, they could be searching for him. If it was all... did that include his kids the ones that felt the warning? Or did they not count?

“Just a courtesy call to the ghosts. Two different species, one of magic and the other powered by ectoplasm. Just inform them that it may be time to move on away from human scum. Which is bloody great.

Not a lick of what we did or didn’t do for the warning.”

That’s where he cuts in. Before any cussing storm could happen. They’d be hearing that shortly.

“Experimentation, hunting, and an act by the US government legalizing it all.”

That got all eyes on him. Thus began his explanation, just what was needed. Fill in the timetable, and explain the acts. Tim’s power point was very informative, all the imperative details laid out. The whole frozen in time, all the notes he had about Jack and Maddie Fenton.

He’d keep Daniels's name out of it for now. If it became necessary, he’d mention it. After everything he’d gone through, he wouldn’t spill all his secrets. Only saying there was a potential ecto entity currently hiding out in Gotham. That it was Oracle who had noticed him. What was known about the experiments? The scene Steph had described wasn’t in the GIW database. Only the injection of blood blossoms.

That got the cuss train going. After Constantine and others got their sentiments out.

“The only bloody good thing out of your mouth as he went to Gotham. Your cursed city has its own sentient ecto-being. A very protective one. Lady Gotham is not one to mess with. A master manipulator of feelings.

If he is there, she would have only allowed it if it kept her city safe.”

Sentient ghost. Alright, he could think about that later.

“If he was injected with blood blossoms, he’s likely dying. If that’s the case, we can’t let that happen. A warning was already ignored. If one of them dies anything they have planned will be worse.”

That changed things. Constantine would have to come back to Gotham with him to see what can be done. See if Daniel knew what was going on and get him help.

The acts needed to be addressed and a hunt for Jack and Maddie Fenton.

The GIW seemed contained to Amity Park, they would be the easy ones to locate. There was still the security footage to search through and a town to fully get into.

The other members of the league would have to handle that.

**

@feistymice

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Au where the Fenton parents shenanigans cause the entire city (minus Vlad) get transported to the dc universe.

Everything is not fine as now Phantom has to keep human crime out of his city instead of the ghosts. The portals are still open but nothing can pass through without getting fried. Rip Skulker. So Danny can't escape or transport his city back home. Sam was away attending a gala in another state with her parents and Jazz was at collage, luckily Tucker and Dani were able to back him up.

More bad news, Superman appearently keeps "overhearing" things, more specifically the things his parents say, which, yikes.

The real kicker is after talking about the batfamily in an mid superhero fight interview where he was cornered by Lois Lane one (1) time there became a sudden influx of Phantom/Red Robin fanfiction. Mostly coffee shop aus at first but then there came the Phantom/Robin shippers and before he knew it there was a massive shipping war going on

Phantom makes the mistake of sending a note to both of them asking them to "please stay away from me" and adding a candy bar or something as a bribe. Now the bats are curious.