#Yes the mansion is reacting to Danny as it's a part of him'

[dcxdpdabbles]

Is there any way I could request more of Danny's Grill? I keep re reading it and it's so great!

Danny's mansion amazed Tim, which said a lot given that he had lived in the Drake and Wayne Manors. It seemed almost like a castle, with its four floors and a few towers (four at each corner of the fenced-off stone. Danny had his property enclosed. )

Everything screamed old money and was well taken care of. He also was surprised to find that the whole place had a lot of natural light.

The drive out of Gotham got them away from the dark cloudy skies to wide blue, and the mansion had plenty of strategically placed windows that caught the sun to light up the rooms.

It was likely that way since the place was obviously built before electricity. Even the air felt lighter, sweater, and caused ease to rest in his bones. Tim found himself strolling through the place, oddly at peace with the silence.

He had taken a dip in Danny's pool, adoring how it was designed to resemble a natural river, complete with a waterfall. It was still a pool, with the proper level of chlorine and tile floor, but there were rocks and multiple plants all around that really sold it to him.

The waterfall was made from unevenly stacked rocks as if carved out of a cliffside. He enjoyed sitting near it, flouting in in the rippling water and listening to the falling water.

Tim found a makeshift bench from the stacked rocks right under the waterfall, where he could comfortably sit down and have the water reach his shoulders. He found himself in that same spot often over the week since he came to stay with Danny.

He was in a fluffy red bathrobe- and nothing else- having just finished a shower to wash off the pool's chlorine. His bare feet patted against the tile floor as Tim once more appreciated the artistic white and gold wallpaper.

He loved that it had leaf-like designs that weren't all over but small enough to give the place a pop of color.

He was still thinking of a destination, wandering about the large building while waiting for Danny to return.

Danny has also been a gracious host. After the first night, he had made him some food and offered him a room across from his, just as large as the master room. It was a lovely white with gold trimming, matching the rest of the mansion but left room to decorate the walls to his hearts content.

Tim hasn't, but Danny seemed rather insistent that he could if he would like to. That Tim had the option open to him. Danny, he came to find, was all about giving people choices.

What did they want to eat? Whatever Tim was in the mood for.

What should they do? If Tim was okay with being around people, they would go out and take pictures. If he was having an overwhelmed day, then Tim could find his own little corner to sit.

Was it okay if Danny gave him friendly hugs or pats? Only if he asked Tim before going in for a hug.

Could Tim walk around in nothing but a bathrobe? Of course! If it made him feel better, Danny could even avoid the entire west side of the mansion so he wouldn't have to see him if he thought like clothes were a bother.

It was enjoyable but also baffling.

Tim has never met someone who gave him as much attention as Danny did but also respected all his boundaries. He enjoyed talking about them, setting them, and even seemed to glow whenever Tim carefully tested the waters, by placing some that would have upset his past friends and family.

Another thing that needed to be clarified about Danny was that he plainly didn't make any sense at all. Tim had always assumed Danny was middle class- maybe high middle- since he ran his own food truck and all but it was obvious by his house that he didn't need it.

Danny's family- from what Tim had been able to uncover- had always been low, middle class up until Danny had been fifteen. Then their luck turned when a rich distant relative by the name of Pariah Dark willed Danny all his fortunes.

Who was Pariah Dark? What happened to him? Why was Danny the only one he left his money to and not all of the Fentons? Why did this property sit for years without any record of usage yet still look brand new?

There was also the question of whether Danny was human.

Tim is sharp when finding small details that lead to clues that lead to answers.

It's both a curse and a blessing.

In this case, he noticed little things about Danny; his tendency to not notice the cold weather, his slight winces when loud noises were near, his graceful steps that were sometimes a tad bit off of gravity, his eyes seemed to change color- blue and green- and the way he would stare into shadows, gaze following something that Tim could not see.

Tim could have assumed Danny had some mental issues- who didn't at this point?- but he felt that wasn't the real reason or not all of it.

He couldn't explain it, but Danny felt like more. Especially when he returns from Gotham because the air feels aware of his arrival. Like it got excited that Danny was back.

Was the mansion sentient like the House of Mystery? Or was it an extension of Danny himself?

Tim had accompanied Danny on a few of his food truck runs. Mostly as a chasier but Danny had beamed when he asked if he could join him three days into his stay.

He did to observe how Danny interacted with the people of Gotham. Just like the air gane a certain something, whenever Danny sold his ware and the people thanked him, he seemed to puff up in strength.

Not the pride in his work kind of puff up but an actual burst of energy as if though he had taken an energy drink. This was doubly so when he gave the street kids free meals. Helping them seemed almost like a drug to Danny.

It begged the question of whether it was, in a sense, a drug. Because Tim could see all the tiny hints that helping people seemed to do much more for his friend. He had dilated pupils, a droopy smile, and random bursts of energy, and he even got a bit snappy when he went too long helping.

Tim could even claim that it was as if Danny was making Deals, and he did not dismiss his hypothesis because Tim had already dealt with aliens, demons, and gods as Red Robin.

Fae or other magical creatures wouldn't be as far-fetched as he once thought.

Did that mean Danny Fenton was never fully human or that something had happened to him that changed him?

There were many questions. Not enough answers.

Yet despite all of that, Tim couldn't find it in himself to think Danny was dangerous. If anything he could only safely conclude Danny lived and breath to protect others.

Tim, the sole attention to his protective tendencies due to proxy, was all but wrapped in a blanket of affection and respect. It could drive a guy to do something silly, like hang up his cowl, resign from WE and live the rest of his life as a pampered prince awaiting for his King.

How odd.

Tim never wanted to do any of those things, but he felt he would if Danny asked. The best part? He knew Danny would never ask that of him which made him want to stay even more.

It's too bad all good things have an end. Tim thinks wistfully. He would much rather spend his days here, but his family was anxious about the lack of check-in.

Tim didn't want them to find out about Danny and had chosen to send a delayed message from the Nest, letting them know he was undercover, infiltrating a possible new magical court. The Bats knew not to risk his cover but they also wanted some proof he was doing alright.

He had asked Danny if he could go to Gotham for a quick trip, and despit the saddness in his blue eyes, Danny always let him. He even gave him the keys to a his car, walking him to the gate with a promise the gates were always opoen to Tim.

Tim would use those visits to catch up on WE work and deposit information packages at Bat checkpoints. He would also pick up coded folders from other family members who wanted to keep him in the loop should their cases overlap.

It's been three weeks since he came here; in that time, Jason had cracked down on pimps and working people. The family was helping him, as Jason was attempting to fulfill a favor that someone had cashed in and was struggling to find the working boy his contact was worried about.

Apparently, the guy was regularly getting roughed up and was underage to boot. Tim hopes Jason finds the jerks hurting him. He would love to help but he had to figure out Danny Fenton first.

The air brighten, snapping Tim out of his thoughts.

Danny was home.

He turned towards the main gate, scurrying to make it to the front door before Danny could finish driving up the drive way and park his car under neeath the shadow parking spots.

His heart fluttered as he barely slide into the main hall way and the wood of the door swung open. Danny steps in, still wearing his black t-shirt and jeans that he favored when working his truck.

"Welcome home!" Tim tells him, watching Danny's whole face break into a wide grin. It was like dawn breaking over the horizion and it made him feel all sorts of warm.

Danny was definitely beaurtyful enough to be otherworldly.

"I'm home, Alvin." Danny pauses and then gestures to his robe, his smile turning warm and fond. "Another late swim?"

"I like the water. It helps my bones," He says, shrugging his shoulders.

Danny hums. "I could ask a friend of mine to install a hot watered pool for you."

Tim considers it. He wants to say no but he just knows the mansion will rat him out. Danny seemed to always know when a lie is spoken here. Another check in the Fae theory.

"If....if it's not a bother, that would be nice." He says suddenly overcome with shyness. The feeling vanishes at the utter delight and green eyes of Danny.

"It's never a bother! The east wing has a smaller pool that rarely gets used. I'll make some calls and have it turn into an artificially hot spring for you." Danny chirps. "It would help me relax too. You would not belive the fight I had with Robin today."

Tim stills. "You fought Robin?"

"Not physically." Danny corrected but still shook his head sadly. "We disagreed on the case he's helping Red Hood with."

"What case?" Are Damian and Jason working together on the working boy's case? Or was it something else? And more importantly did he try Danny's food?!

He may come back for more if he did, and Tim's personal cheat truck was no longer his own!

"I'm not sure of the details, but they are trying to map out all the working girl's corners. He was upset when I told him I would not release that information to a child." Danny sighs. "I know he's Robin, but I could sense how uncomfortable it made him feel, you know? It made my core ache, but Robin took it as me not wanting to respect him as a hero. It was a whole thing."

Tim has so many questions he feels like he might just burst. It's only years of training that had him clamping down on all but one. "You're helping the Bats catch prostitutes?"

Danny's eyes widen "No! No! Not the employees themselves, just their sick pimps. I would never rat them out."

Tim nods once. "Okay."

"I mean it, Alvin. I would never"

And the blue eyes have flickered to green again. Interesting.

But he can't help but relax smiling at Danny. "I know. Thank you for helping them though."

Danny's face flushes, and then he hastily looks away. Coughing into his fist, he mutters, "Are you hungry? I still have some leftover Pizza from today's menu."

"Starved. Want to watch a moive while we eat?"

"Yeah, sounds good-are you-I mean, will you be-um" Danny fumbles over his words gesturing at him. Tim tilts his head in confusion, wondering why he sounds so nervous, until Danny finally blurts. "Is that all you're going to wear?"

"Yeah. It's soft." He says playing with the robe's sleeves and Danny swallows.

"Alright. Okay. I um I'll get the pizza. Will you go pick the moive and get it ready?"

Tim beams, twisting on his heel to do just that and catching the reflection of Danny clutching his chest and screaming silently into a closed fist in a nearby wall mirror. His face is redder than before, and the house ripples with excitement, glee, warmth, and happiness.

Interesting indeed.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny's grill #Part 3 #misunderstandings #Tim is enjoying vacation while also looking for clues #Danny is dying over pretty boy in his haunt #Yes the mansion is reacting to Danny as it's a part of him' #Meanwhile the Bats are looking for Alvin Draper and finding that Tim hid him too well #dead tired

[underforeversgrace]

healing the wounds we hid - 4

title: healing the wounds we hid

words: 3,067

Finally, the sequel to broken trust and the wounds hidden behind! (Refresh here on AO3 or here on Tumblr)

Story Summary: Now that his father knows, Danny's life is changing for the better. Jack encourages him to let his friends and the rest of the family into his small word. Unbeknownst to Danny, Jack is secretly worried about how Maddie will react to the news upon her return to Amity - and how to confront Vlad once Jack learns his true identity. Amidst it all, an enemy lurks and plots their revenge.

Chapter 4 of 11: Knowing You

AO3

Tumblr Chapter One

(Tumblr Chapter Four will be here)

Beta by: @probably-dead and @scarletsaphire!

Featuring art from this fic's second artist, @saxonroa!

Note: This one was already published to AO3, but apparently I never published it here! My bad!

~~~~~~

Jack stared at the mansion as the GAV idled, hesitating with his hand on the key in the ignition. It was the day after he’d learned the truth about Vlad, and now it was time to confront him. Some part of him wondered if he should let Danny know what he was doing, but he was at school. It was time for the adults to talk anyway.

With a sense of finality, Jack turned the key and pulled it out, turning the vehicle off and jumping out of it. He double checked his suit, making sure he had multiple weapons, along with two personal ghost shields. Vlad Masters would be able to get through them, yes, but it would still keep his ecto attacks from hitting or his Plasmius form from getting too close.

Confident he had enough weapons to at least escape to the GAV, Jack held his head high as he marched towards Vlad’s front door. He knocked before he had the chance to second guess himself again.

He didn’t have to wait long before he heard the sound of the lock disengaging and Vlad opened the door, clad in a red robe, his white hair hanging loosely around his face.

“Jack. What a…pleasant…surprise.” Vlad said, schooling his expression into one of mild interest.

“Wish I could say the same,” Jack said as he body checked Vlad out of his way, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him.

“What the butter puffs, Jack?” Vlad huffed in annoyance.

“You and I are going to have a talk,” Jack said, glaring at Vlad, pulling himself up to his full height.

Vlad at least had the common courtesy to look concerned. “Whatever about, my old friend?”

“Cut the bullshit, Vlad. I know.”

“You know what?” He asked, rolling his eyes.

“I figured it out. You blame me, don’t you?”

“Jack, I’m afraid I don’t -“

“Stop messing with me, Plasmius!” Jack shouted. “I know what you are, I know who you are! But what I don’t understand is why? You reviewed the math, Maddie reviewed the chemical compositions. We all messed up! Yet you blame me? And decide to beat my son bloody because of something that happened before he was even born?”

The faux friendliness fell from Vlad’s face, settling into a scowl. “Jack, stop talking nonsense.”

Jack grunted in frustration and walked past Vlad, to the living room just beyond the foyer.

The other man groaned and began to speak but Jack cut him off.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I get Danny, he was afraid. But you? Why hide it?”

Vlad narrowed his eyes accusingly at Jack. “You never visited. Five years in that hospital and neither of you ever came to see me.”

“We tried!” Jack said, stunned. “We tried for weeks to see you but you were under quarantine. And then you were better but accepting no visitors and then you were discharged and never talked to us. We thought you hated us. We thought you’d forgiven us when you invited us to the reunion."

Vlad’s face twisted in anger. “Forgiven you? You’re even dumber than I thought you were, Jack. You killed me! Your negligence cost me my life! But I made it better, didn’t I? Turned your fuck up into a gift. Created Plasmius, created an empire of wealth for myself. I may have given the ghost a name, but you’re the one who created this!” He shouted and then black rings were around his waist, so similar and yet so strikingly different than Danny’s, and Jack could only watch while his chest ached in shame. “How does it feel to have created not just one monster, but two? Remember when we contemplated the idea of hybridism in college? All the things we could do and learn from a thing like that, before we laughed it off as a joke because how could such a freak of nature ever exist? I’ve been trying to kill you for twenty years, Jack! And now your ridiculous child can’t even keep a secret?”

Jack listened to Vlad’s rant, the heavy blanket of guilt pressing further into him the longer he talked. Plasmius breathed angrily, his red eyes burning into Jack with rage Jack had never known Vlad able to possess.

A canyon of silence stretched between them. Jack fidgeted, running his hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts and break it.

“Danny didn’t tell me. I figured it out - figured out both of you. He doesn’t know I know.”

“Wow, a rare moment of Jack Fenton brilliance,” Plasmius said, mockery and anger dripping from his tone like venom. 

“Why am I here?” Jack asked.

“You practically break into my house and you’re asking me why you’re here?” Vlad asked, the shift from fury to bewilderment so instantaneous it was nearly amusing.

“Not here as in your house. Here, in general. Alive. Breathing.” He asked cautiously, wondering how much of the Vlad he had known was left in his friend.

“Daniel is quite protective,” he growled. “Constantly interferes with my plans and saves everyone. Even for people who’d kill him.”

“He’s also only fifteen. He hasn’t even been de-“ Jack choked on the word “-dead for two years. And I’m only human.” Vlad was silent as he processed Jack’s question, so Jack continued, his voice tired. “You’re one of the richest men in the world. I’m oblivious, but not that oblivious. You could’ve hired someone to murder me and make it look like an accident. But I’m still here.”

Jack felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, crushing him into dust even as Plasmius came for him, hands outstretched. He vaguely remembered the weapons he’d brought with him as Vlad grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall, but he suddenly found he didn’t care to use them, even as he grabbed at Vlad’s wrists and struggled for air.

At least Vlad wasn’t as cold as Danny.

“Maybe I wanted to do it with my own hands,” Vlad hissed, lifting Jack off his feet. Jack clawed at Vlad’s hands, desperate to be let down. “Maybe I needed to make sure you hurt as much as I did, suffer as much as I did! And now you offer yourself up to me on a platter!”

Jack couldn’t speak, becoming lightheaded as Vlad continued to strangle him. Looking into Vlad’s red, pupil-less eyes full of rage and pain, Jack began to wonder if he’d made a mistake, if the friend he’d known really had become someone capable of murder, when doubt and regret crossed Vlad’s face.

“Fuck!” Vlad shouted, releasing Jack from his grip. Jack fell to the floor two feet beneath him, collapsed onto his hands and knees as he breathed in the beautiful, cool air around him. “Fuck!” He repeated, blasting some of the furniture around them into pieces with his pink ecto rays. Plasmius floated down to the floor, and Jack wasn't sure if the tears forming in the ghost’s eyes were from anger or grief.

“Damn you, Jack Fenton,” Vlad hissed. “You and your perfect life, with the woman I love and the kids I always wanted! Why do you get everything? Why do you get to be happier than me? Why can’t I kill you?”

“‘Perfect life?’” Jack asked, his voice still a little breathless as he pushed himself to his feet. “You think my life is perfect? You can have it! Along with every mistake I’ve ever made! I killed you, my best friend! I killed my son. I’ve hunted him, hurt him! I only know now because I found a goodbye video he filmed in case I killed him again! I’ve pushed my daughter away. I’m terrified my wife is going to try to kill our son!” 

Tears fell as all the pain he’d masked since the video tumbled out, finally able to let out everything he’d kept within. “Do you want your son’s blood on your hands? Do you want to remember all the dreams you had of torturing him? Do you want to know he spent almost two years afraid you wouldn’t love him enough to not dissect him?”

The room began to blur as tears clouded his vision, as he cried so hard his chest burned. “Do you want to learn that someone else did do that to him? And he still feared you too much to come for help, that he stitched up his own vivisection wound? Because if you want all of that, you can have it! All the guilt, all the pain, all the things I’ve broken. Do you still want my perfect life? Because I don’t!”

The two men looked at each other as Jack finished his breakdown, before a bitter laugh escaped Vlad. “Ironic. Of the two of us, I’m the one who wants to kill, yet you’re the one with blood on your hands.”

All the energy Jack had previously had vanished, and he sagged against the same wall he’d been pinned to. “I have to live with my mistakes. So believe me when I say living is worse, when I have to face my mistakes every day. Maybe that’ll make you feel better, Vlad.”

“Hmph,” Vlad said, black rings sweeping across him again, turning him back to Masters. “That does bring me some happiness.”

“Wonderful,” Jack said dryly, looking around at the mess - and lack of intact furniture. He sighed, sliding to the floor, exhausted after letting out all the shame he’d buried so deep.

Awkward silence settled between the two.

“I’m sorry, Vlad.”

~~~~~~

Danny yawned as his friends bickered, poking at the food in front of him. It was nice, to be back here with them. It’d been a few days since they’d found out - he’d told them on Monday afternoon and it was now Friday - and his fear had largely faded away. He’d been so worried they’d be okay with it and then realize that he was a freak, a monster, and grow afraid of him, that they’d out him to the town and the government. But they’d accepted him back with open arms, even insisting on joining him on patrol (once he showed them how to use a blaster and told them in no uncertain terms that if it got too dangerous, they needed to run). 

He felt Tucker elbow him gently. “Yo, you good? You’re playing with your food instead of eating again.” Tucker asked.

“You’ve been doing that a lot. Do you just… not eat as much anymore?” Sam added, dropping her voice at the end.

The urge to lie bubbled up against his lips, but he forced it down. He kept having to remind himself that he didn’t need to lie anymore, not to these two. “Not recently,” he admitted. “I’ve been losing my appetite the past three or four weeks. It had actually increased for a long time after the accident, but now I’m just not hungry.”

Sam pursed her lips thoughtfully. “So around the time your dad started helping you?”

Danny paused as he thought back, though he also felt an odd stirring in his core. Sam and Tucker had listened to every story he told with rapt attention and it made him feel… loved?… that Sam had remembered a detail that small. “Uh, yeah, actually you’re right. Weird. I wonder if it’s related, but how would it be?”

“Okay, don’t freak out,” Sam said and Danny was struck by how unhelpful that sentence was as his initial reaction was to freak out. “I have an idea.”

Danny glanced at Tucker to see if he had any clue what Sam was talking about, but he just shrugged. He didn’t miss the way Tucker’s eyes lingered on him a little longer than necessary before Tucker returned his attention to Sam. This wasn't the first time he had noticed those glances and everytime he did, he had to bury the fear it was Tucker doubting him. He couldn’t explain how he knew that wasn’t it, but somehow he just… knew. Besides, he didn’t… entirely mind them.

“So, you know how some ghosts can sense and feed off emotions?” Sam asked, leaning forward to whisper.

“Uh, yeah?” Danny said with a frown, Spectra coming to mind. He’d told them about his encounters with her, but that was the only feeder ghost he knew of.

“Well, I’ve been doing some reading,” Sam said, patting at her backpack, “and it looks like that’s a common trait. Let me ask - has your appetite dropped even more since telling Tucker and me about you?”

Tucker took a deep breath at Danny’s side, while Danny forgot how to breathe, both realizing what she was saying at the same time. Danny’s eyes widened as he realized Sam was right. He did have another dip in appetite after Sam and Tucker had re-entered his life.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” she said, pulling a book - A Goth’s Guide to Ghosts: The Symbiotic Relationship of the Dying and the Dead - out and flipping through it, looking for a specific page. She set the book down, turning it so he and Tucker could read it, pointing at the title of the chapter.

“Emotions and their Nutritional Value?” Tucker read aloud.

Sam nodded, then pointed to a passage further down. “Look here.”

Danny pulled the book closer to him. “‘While most ghosts feed on the negative emotions of people - one of the reasons why ghosts like to hang around the standard goth - some have been theorized to find more sustenance on the emotions of the happy. Therefore, when first attempting to contact your ghostly suitor, it is imperative to ensure the ghost can get appropriate energy from you and your emotions.’”

“Is this a book about keeping ghosts as pets?” Tucker asked, eyes continuing to scan the page.

Danny felt like cement had been poured down his throat. He couldn’t eat human emotions. He couldn’t.

“Honestly, I don’t know, some parts read like the ghost is the pet and others like the human is,” Sam shrugged. “But it has some good information, and that wasn’t the point I was making.”

“You think Danny can eat our emotions?” Tucker said, brows furrowed in confusion.

Danny could barely hear the conversation over his heart thudding against his rib cage, the sound of whooshing blood loud in his ears. He was human. Human. Sure, he’d come to terms with being half ghost (and therefore half dead), but he still felt more human than ghost. If he could eat emotions and not need real food, was he becoming more ghostly?

Was his ghost half overpowering his human half?

“I think so,” Sam confirmed, her voice sounding so far away. "His dad and the two of us? I think he’s sensing, I don’t know… companionship? Safety?”

“Love?” Tucker questioned. Sam nodded, opening her mouth to say something else, but Tucker had realized Danny’s silence wasn’t thoughtfulness - it was panic. “Danny?” he said, shaking Danny’s shoulder gently.

“I can’t,” Danny said hoarsely, shaking his head, refusing to accept it even if he knew it was true.

“Danny, it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with it.” Tucker said gently.

“You aren’t hurting us. The book talks about how it isn’t harmful to humans. We didn't even notice it was happening until now. Spectra sought pain and depression, that’s why she was dangerous.” Sam agreed, reaching across the table and patting the back of one of Danny’s hands.

“How can you be okay with this?” Danny choked out. “You guys, my dad. I’m a freak of nature and you all act like it’s fine. I don’t understand.”

“We’re your friends and your dad’s, well, your dad. It’s fine because it’s you,” Sam said.

“So no more moping about being weird, ‘cuz everyone at this table is a freak,” Tucker added with a laugh and pulled a reluctant smile from Danny. “You’re our friend and we’re not going anywhere. Besides!” Tucker continued, pulling Danny’s plate of spaghetti from in front of him. “Now I get more free food!”

The smile felt weird on his face as he glanced between his two friends. “You’re sure? You still… want to be around me?” He asked. Even though they’d said so many times, he still struggled to believe it.

“You’re the one who can eat our emotions,” Tucker said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Are we lying?”

“Or are we just happy to be around you?” Sam added.

Danny hesitated, then closed his eyes and focused on… something. Something within him - like his core but not. There, he could feel it, feel them. Joy, respect, loyalty floated within him, though they were definitely not his own emotions. Shockingly, though, love - romantic love - was one of the brightest and strongest he sensed. He couldn’t tell how he knew, but when he opened his eyes and stared at Tucker in shock, he knew it was Tucker the love was coming from, even before Tucker gave him a shy smile.

Well. That explained the lingering glances recently.

“You’re telling the truth.” Danny said, smiling at Tucker before he turned to look at Sam. That was a conversation for just the two of them, for when they were alone.

“Told you so,” Tucker and Sam said at the same time, pulling a genuine laugh from him.

Two months ago, Danny had been convinced he’d spend the rest of his life suffering alone, especially after his time with the Guys in White (a story he hadn’t told Sam and Tucker and never planned to). 

For so long, Danny had accepted his existence was to suffer, to be bled and broken and bruised over and over, to serve his penance for opening the portal, alone and in agony until he died again. He’d accepted his friends’ hatred, his family’s disdain for one half of him and their disappointment in the other. He’d decided that while his life wasn’t worth fighting for, everyone else’s was, no one else deserved to die for his mistake.

But as he nonchalantly placed his hand on the bench near Tucker’s and their fingers entwined, as Sam changed topics as though this entire conversation hadn’t been impossible, as he remembered everything his father had done for him… he decided that, maybe, just maybe, he was worth fighting for, too.

#grace writes #danny phantom #danny fenton #invisobang #invisobang2023 #invisobang 2023

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 6

Hi guys! I'm back <3 (also, I'm currently looking for alpha/beta readers for Phantom Children, so if you're interested, feel free to shoot me a message!)

In Which: Danny Attempts to get Answers, Bruce Learns, and Dick Finally Learns What's Inside the Door that Doesn't Exist

AO3 | Prologue | 5 | [ 6 ] | 7

DANNY IS KNOCKED DOWN three, four, eight times on the ice. Each time made his back ache, his bones bruised and tired, and his mind burning with embarrassment and a drive to lash out. But each time he gets back up. Each time he lasts a little bit longer against Talia.

The ice still shifts, cracks and rumbles with every wrong move. Danny learned to roll with it. Move on light feet but attack with a firm stance, gauge which parts of the ice are stable and which should be avoided. Multi-tasking has never been Danny’s strong suit, but he’s good at learning and learning quickly.

Talia corrected his form as much as she beat him down. Exploited every one of his openings until he learned to defend them and praised him whenever he managed to pull one over her. The League’s martial arts was the holy amalgamation between almost every single fighting style there is, mashed and refined to perfection to become almost unpredictable to the untrained. A vast improvement to Danny’s previous ‘fuck around and see what works’ brawling and had the added benefit of meshing together with his spontaneity.

“You are doing well, Daniel,” Talia said as she sheathed her sword, hand resting just above her hip. “You have improved greatly in such a short time, as I have expected.”

It takes every ounce of Danny’s superhuman energy to not collapse to his knees, his every breath a ragged shudder as he tries to get his breathing under control. “Still can’t beat you, though.”

“Very few can boast that feat.”

“I’m not exactly sure if that’s supposed to make me feel any better or not. Do I get my prize at least?”

Tahlia tossed her braid over one shoulder with a laugh. “Come, then, let us rest in the caves. The sun is to set soon and we must make camp before we freeze to death.”

“Hypothermia is so last season. I’m way too cool for that.”

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed that Tahlia didn’t react to his pun. It was pretty clever, in his opinion.

('Puns are the lowest form of comedy,' said mind-Jazz.

Says the one who named the Box Ghost the ‘Crate Creep.’

'That’s alliteration, not a pun.')

It was kind of pathetic that even his mind-version of Jazz was smarter than him.

“What would you like to know first?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarcasm dripped from Danny’s voice. He sheathed his sword and let it hang loose at his side. “Maybe how old this mysterious brother of mine is?” Ancients, his life was weird enough already, it wasn’t supposed to sound like the B-plot to a bad soap opera.

“Damian is younger than you by a little over four years. He will turn eleven this year.”

“Huh. Never been an older brother before.”

“Perhaps you might have been, if circumstances had been different.”

Cryptic. Great. Danny stepped over a particularly large crack in the ice and scampered over to solid ground. “You gotta give me more than that. What’s he like?”

“Prideful,” she said. “But skilled enough to warrant it. He was raised like a prince—as how you should have been.”

“And he lives with…our dad?”

“Yes. In America.” The cave was deep enough to shield them from the worst of the eventual mountain winds. Tahlia had already started building a campfire with equipment from her knapsack, embers eating away and growing into a steady flame. He sat down, legs crossed, beside the fire, hands tucked beneath his armpits.

He bit his lip, a question forming in his mind. “Do…do we have the same dad?”

Tahlia looked up at him. “Of course. Only your father has had the privilege of being called my beloved, and only he is worthy enough to have sired my children.”

Once night fell, it fell quickly. Blanketing as far as Danny could see from the mouth of the cave in a thick darkness. Snow fell from the skies in thick tufts and covered their footsteps.

“Does he—do they know about me?”

“No, they do not.”

“And you probably aren’t going to tell them anything about me, if you could help it.”

“That is very perceptive of you, habeebi.”

“You won’t tell me anything more about them, will you?”

“In due time, I will.”

Danny blew part of his fringe away from his face. Figures.

Despite the ever-present niggling at the back of his mind, Bruce had yet to see what was in the flash drive. The weeks since his strange meeting with Vlad Masters suddenly exploded with criminal activity with the recent breakout in Arkham and the brewings of another gang war in the shadows of Gotham’s paved streets. It was all hands-on deck. And Bruce, whether as Batman or Wayne, had always prioritized Gotham and its citizens over anything else.

The flash drive remained on his person despite the crisis, tucked away in one of the sturdier compartments of his utility belt to prevent the data inside from becoming damaged. Sometimes he found his hands gravitating towards it, fingers brushing against the button that would release the mystery from its confines before he realized what he was doing and steeled himself. Hands fisted to his side and attention forcibly directed elsewhere.

Eventually, the rogues were placed back into Arkham, and Gotham let out a shuddered breath of relief as it remained standing for another day.

Most of the family were out on a light patrol, cleaning up the remains of the breakout and helping where they can. Jason and Dick bickering over the comms whilst Barbara laughed in her clocktower.

(“It’s not that bad.”

"‘It’s not that bad’—shut the fuck up.” Jason spat. Bruce could hear him revving his bike. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? Certified Grade A idiot. B’s gonna kill you.”

He could hear Dick roll his eyes. “Sure, pile it all on, Jaybird. Blame the victim.”

"It was your fault.”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t see it there!”

"You tripped and got a concussion. From a stick. A. Stick.”

“Can we please just leave that out of the report?” Dick groaned. Barbara laughed. “Oh god.”

“Richard motherfucking John Grayson. I swear if you vomit on me then—”

“I’m not gonna vomit on you! You just turned the corner a little too fast. It’s nice to see you care though.”

"Fuck no, I just don’t wanna smell like regurgitated cereal.”)

Damian was benched from a patrol. Their last conflict with Poison Ivy ended with Damian sticking a bad landing and twisting his ankle. He dealt with it with as much grace as can be expected. Meaning that he spent the last few days sulking as he caught up on his missed schoolwork and shooting daggers at everyone else who came back from patrol.

Bruce flicked the flash drive open and plugged it into the computer. The flash drive contained only a single folder dated six months ago.

He clicked it, and a news headline popped up.

LOCAL TEEN DIES AFTER DRIVING OFF CLIFF

Beneath it, a picture. Blue eyes. Black hair. A familiar face.

Blood pounded in Bruce’s ears. He could hear nothing except a sharp gasp from Damian behind him.

When Dick and Jason arrived at the batcave, it was to an eerie silence. Not that it was usually loud, only that Bruce spent most of his free time down in the cave and Dick had come to expect hearing some signs of him around. Typing on keys, the clicking of a mouse, the heavy thuds of a fist meeting a punching bag or a training dummy, etcetera, etcetera. Or maybe even Alfred cleaning up around the cave, feeding the bats, or restocking their med bay.

(Dick, it turned out, didn’t have a concussion. Probably. Not a severe one anyway. What mattered most was that he managed to convince Jason to have dinner at the Manor. Alfred was making a tarte tatin for dessert tonight and those were absolutely to die for. )

One of Tim’s cases took him to the other side of Gotham. The only person in the cave was Damian, who was staring agape at the batcomputer.

“Why the hell is the demon spawn looking at old pictures of Bruce? We get it. They look alike.

“Uh, Dami? What’s up?”

Damian snapped his mouth shut. “I believe it might be best if you asked father that, Grayson.” Despite his clipped tone, there seemed to be little anger in his voice. His proud shoulders were hunched over on the chair, eyes trained on his lap.

He looked so small.

Damian clucked his tongue. “He’s upstairs, if you need him. So is Pennyworth.”

Dick shot a glance at Jason who raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re up golden boy. Whatever the fuck the old man’s problem is this time, I’m not dealing with it.”

Dick sighed. “Fine.”

There was a door in Wayne Manor that didn’t exist.

When Dick was a child and recently adopted by Bruce Wayne, one of the first things he did was explore the manor. It’s the prerogative of every child that somehow found themselves in a large mansion—even more so given the castle-like exteriors of Wayne Manor. All castles have secret passages, and if the Batcave lay in the subterranean depths below, then surely the manor proper must have its own secrets.

Dick would tumble and cartwheel along the hallways, opening any and every single door he came across. A lot of them were just empty bedrooms or unused parlors and sitting rooms; the furniture covered by white sheets to keep the dust away. Alfred was probably magic, but even he can’t keep the entirety of the manor dust free.

The majority of the unused rooms were unlocked.

Except for one.

It was a room in the west wing, on the second floor. A couple doors down from where Bruce’s and Dick’s were. Why it was locked, Dick never found out. But he was curious since it was the only room on that floor that remained shut.

When he asked Alfred about it, the old butler only said that it was an unused storage room they preferred to keep locked just in case. When he asked Bruce about it, he’d be quick to change the subject. Usually something Batman related. Which, well, always worked, because it was Batman related. And Dick, young and spry and itching to fly under Batman’s wings, would quickly forget about that curious little mystery in favor of punching bad guys in the face and flipping over rooftops.

At some point that locked door quietly disappeared, leaving a blank expanse of wallpaper and a decorative vase where it once stood. It was never brought up again. And Dick slowly forgot that it was ever there in the first place.

Until now.

The wooden table and vase were shoved off to the side. Wallpaper sliced away to reveal the lines of a doorway. The door, covered in its faint damask wallpaper, was kicked open, the wood around the bolt splintered and cracked. He could hear voices—Alfred’s and Bruce’s—speaking softly on the other side.

He pressed his back against the wall and kept his breathing quiet.

“Three times, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Three times she’s done this to me.”

“Master Bruce…”

“I don’t—I don’t understand why—” Bruce choked, swallowing a shuddered breath. “Damian, I can understand. Jason, I can too. But…This? I—” Bruce suddenly quieted. Dick knew the jig was up.

He unlatched himself from the wall and slowly slid through the once-hidden-door, a hand kept on the frame. “Um. Hi, Bruce? Alfred?” The words fell flat, stilted. Dick winced as he said them. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, uh…” He trailed off the second he registered what was in the room.

It was large, as so many rooms in the manor were. The room was covered in peeling green wallpaper with faded pictures of baby deer and owls and other woodland creatures prancing about. There was a dresser on one wall. A shelf filled with little picture books and stuffed animals on the other. A brown teddy bear had fallen on its face on one of the shelves.

In the middle—where Bruce was hunched over—was a crib. The wood streaked and aged with time, the beddings within pristine and untouched, if not dusty. Hanging overhead was a mobile with little animals dangling on a string.

“Worry not Master Dick. It is good that you are here since it will inevitably involve the rest of the family at some point.”

Dick nodded absentmindedly, trying to lock eyes with his guardian. “B? What’s—what’s going on?” Dick took one step deeper into the room. “The pictures in the cave. I thought they were you since they were too old to be Damian—” Bruce’s hands on the crib’s railing flinched.

Dick’s breath hitched.

“They’re…not your photos, are they.”

Bruce took a deep breath in, the lines of his shoulders tense. “No. They’re not.”

In their line of work, the answer could have been anything. Clones, magical doppelgangers, alternate universe counterparts, hell, even just someone’s genetic code being coincidentally similar to another person. But…this room, this nursery, pointed towards only one conclusion.

“Who is he, Bruce?”

Bruce angled his head towards Dick, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. “He’s my son, Dick.

“He’s my son.”

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

[kinglazrus]

When the Time Comes

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @pipermasters: how does Vlad react to having to spend ten years watching Dan destroy the world

Summary: Knowing you caused the end of the world isn’t easy, but Vlad's had to live with that fact for ten long years. A surprise visitor forces him to reflect on his role in Dan's creation and the destruction he brought to the world.

Word count: 2077

People say not to dwell on the past, but when the present is a hell of brimstone and fire, there's little else you can do. Ten years is a long time to watch the world burn, too long. Vlad often wonders what right he had to survive for so long, wasting away in the crumbling remains of his manor. He doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, yet still he lives. Even with his ghost half long removed from his body, he lives. It must be some cosmic punishment. His debt to pay to the world. Everything is his fault, and for his crimes, he must witness humanity's slow demise.

Vlad didn't realize what he was unleashing all those years ago, what havoc it would wreak. How could he? When he sank his claws, quite literally, into young Daniel's chest, he truly believed he was helping the boy. It seemed like such an easy solution. Ghosts, despite all their emotions, have always been simple beings. They are not restrained by heartache and loss, left to frolic in the life-after-life without worldly concerns.

At the time, Vlad wished someone had been around for him in his college years, the same way he was for Danny then, to rid him of his pain. Abandoned by his best friends, left aching, alone, and—he believed—dying, a younger Vlad would have revelled at the thought of release. He only wanted to give Daniel what he himself could never have.

Daniel, sedated and unconscious, felt nothing. Despite all his villainy, Vlad wasn't cruel. At least not unnecessarily so. There was always a chance the procedure could hurt, and Daniel had been through so much already. Vlad wanted to spare him whatever pain he could.

The procedure was a resounding success. His modifications to Jack and Maddie's Ghost Gauntlets worked like a charm, not leaving a single scratch on Daniel's human body. The ghost in Daniel resisted at first. Vlad did not expect it to fight back, and he almost stopped, believing Daniel didn't truly want this.. But then he remembered his years of pain and misery and spurred himself on. His arms trembled, sweat beading his brow, as they fought their little battle of wills.

Vlad won out, in due time, dragging the ghost out of Daniel's body, a pale shade of itself. For a moment, the sudden success shocked him. He always had faith in his smarts and his abilities, but there was a little part of him that whispered it wouldn't work, that something would go wrong. When Vlad raised up his arms, Phantom hanging off his claws, that voice was silenced.

Until the monitor watching Daniel's vitals started shrieking. Phantom reacted violently. His eyes, so much duller than they should have been, snapped open and he threw Vlad across the room. Vlad knew, then, that something was terribly wrong.

Daniel's heart was slowing, his lungs failing. Phantom looked moments away from destabilizing, the wounds on his chest bubbling and seeping ectoplasm.

"Wh... at... did y... ou do," Phantom asked.

Vlad wishes, now, that he had tried to explain. If only he had found the words, he could have told Phantom, this was is you wanted, isn't it? Neither of them could have foreseen it going wrong. But Vlad's wits failed him in that moment.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking, wondering if he could have stopped it all back then. Perhaps Phantom would have listened. Or he could have ignored Vlad's harried excuses, and nothing would change at all. Vlad will never know.

His next memories are lost to a haze of pain. After getting his own ghost half brutally torn out of his body, he was left on the verge of death. Spirit broken, his very being ripped apart, he collapsed in agony. He remembers only the shadows and how they writhed as Phantom tried to overpower Plasmius.

Mercifully, he did not witness Daniel's death. Vlad awoke, cold, alone, consumed by a gnawing pain, and found the body. It was mangled beyond recognition, but he knew it could be no one else.

Vlad didn't know what horrors followed that harrowing night until weeks later. He secluded himself in his mansion, mourning everything he had lost. Without Maddie, without Daniel, there was nothing left for him beyond these walls. His wealth meant nothing if he could not have them. Locked in a prison of his own anguish, surrounded by riches most men could only dream of having, he was resigned to wallowing in misery.

He wishes that's how it happened. But Vlad had a price to pay. Fate, the world, whatever or whoever, refused to let him die. So, Vlad watched. Hiding away in his manor like the coward he was, he watched Dan destroy the world.

The killings were brutal. Violent displays of power that levelled whole cities. Nothing could placate Dan. Like Vlad, he was consumed by greed, hellbent to obtain something he could not have. No amount of destruction could bring back the people Danny had lost.

That pained Vlad the most. Dan was a monster, a cruel beast with no remorse. But inside he was a child in mourning. He was confused and scared and hurt, and Plasmius' influenced twiste him in horrible ways.

Vlad tried to stop Dan, but only once. Four years after Dan began his crusade against the world, Vlad finally crawled out of his manor, a pitiful slug, and made his way to Amity Park. By then, it was well on its way to being the last city on Earth, the only place fortified against Dan's power. Vlad stood outside its walls, an ecto-pistol in hand, and waited. He didn't have to wait long.

"What a surprise! I never thought I'd see you again, old man," Dan said. He looked so much worse than Vlad ever imagined. Sickly pale, purple veins throbbing under his skin, bloodshot eyes. Despite all that, he gave off a suffocating aura of power. Vlad was instantly reminded of his own weak state. For the first time, he felt afraid of an opponent.

"Daniel, you have to stop," Vlad said.

"Daniel. I always hated it when you called me that." Dan raised his hand, firing a single beam of ectoplasm from his finger. Vlad flinched as it shot over his shoulder, singeing his cheek and burning his hair. The sight of it made Dan chuckle.

"Danny," Vlad amended.

Another beam shot over his other shoulder.

"That's not me anymore," Dan hissed, his forked tongue slipping between his teeth.

"Dan," Vlad finally said. When Dan didn't immediately attack him, he continued. "You can't do this forever."

"Funny words from someone like you."

"This won't bring them back." Vlad instantly regretted saying it.

Dan rushed forward, grabbing Vlad and pinning him against Amity's barrier. Despite not having a ghost half anymore, the barrier remained firm against his back.

"Don't act like you know me, old man," Dan growled.

"But I do, because you're part of me as well! Is this what Maddie would have wanted for you?"

"It doesn't matter what she would have wanted! She's gone! They're all gone!" Dan roared in Vlad's face, pulling him forward and slamming him back, over and over, against the wall. The back of Vlad's head struck the barrier, rattling his brain. It was like getting hit in the head with a sledgehammer. His vision blurred, dark spots filling his eyes, and he didn't realize Dan had stopped until he blinked and found himself on his hands and knees over a puddle of vomit.

The back of his head felt warm and wet.

Dan, disgusted, sneered. "It's not even worth killing a pathetic thing like you." Turning, he started flying away.

"Stop!" Vlad called weakly after him. Struggling to his feet, he raised the ecto-pistol in a shaky hand. "I will stop you, Dan. I can't let you do this anymore."

"Funny, you seemed okay with it so far."

Vlad pulled the trigger. The bullet shot out of the gun, flying straight for Dan, and... it did nothing. A hole opened in the middle of Dan's back, letting the bullet pass harmlessly through him. He didn't even look back. The gun fell from Vlad's hand with a clatter. He dropped to his knees, useless. That was the day he truly gave up.

—

"Why are you telling me this?" Danny asks.

Vlad pauses his tale, giving Danny a long, considering look. To Vlad, Danny's motives have always been scrutable, his face as easy to read as a children's picture book. Dan shares the same trait. He may be more brutal and more cunning than Danny ever was, but beneath all that sadistic violence are signs of the boy Vlad once knew.

Having Danny in front of him now is such an odd, yet liberating experience. It reminds Vlad of a time untainted by his machinations. This boy's future still has a chance. Vlad despises it.

"Since meeting you, little badger, my one wish has always been to impart my wisdom. You can't blame me for that. Humans are so attached to their legacies." Vlad leans back and gestures to the decrepit room. "This is my legacy."

Rising to his feet, he points to the ceiling. "That, out there, is my legacy. It is not one I want people to remember. I suppose, with how few people remain left, that won't be an issue for much longer. Is it so wrong for me to want to change that?"

"You want... to help me," Danny says.

Oh, how Vlad missed that slow wit of his. "Yes, Daniel. I want to help you."

"Why?"

"Because, as hard as it is to believe, that's all I've ever wanted."

Danny pressed his lips together. Nodding stiffly, he motioned for Vlad to continue.

"There isn't much else to say. I returned here and took up a silent vigil. If it is my fate to see this through to the end, then that's what I will do."

"That is pathetic."

Vlad's eyes hardened into a glare. "I don't expect you to understand."

"You're right. I don't." Danny gets up from his seat on the floor and gestures to the portal. "You all just gave up! So Dan beat you once, and you decided to never try again? That's just stupid. If you had all worked together, you probably could have stopped him. You guys might not care anymore, but I do."

Bitter, Vlad smiled. "Don't you see, little badger? That’s exactly why everything rides on you. Dan is both of us, even though he likes to pretend there's none of me in him. If your human half were still alive, Dan would be as much his responsibility as he is mine. I had my chance to stop him and I failed. Now, it's your turn."

Danny accepts, of course. A hero with a bleeding heart. Vlad removes the medallion from his chest, although not without one last threat, for old time's sake. The second it's out, Danny pops out of existence like a bad cutaway. One second he's there and then the next he's not.

Vlad stares at the empty space for a moment, then turns back to his chair, abandoning his gauntlets on the way. The medallion he keeps in his hand. It's been a very long time since he's seen one.

"It was you all along, wasn't it?" Vlad asked. He didn't need to hear the rustle of cloth to know Clockwork was hovering behind him. "How did you do it?"

"Time is a relative experience," Clockwork says with his familiar lisp. "Not everyone experiences it at the same pace."

"That's a lofty way of saying you kept me from dying so I could be here for Daniel when he finally arrived."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Vlad turns the medallion over in his hands, running his thumbs across the gold surface. If he puts it on, here in his own time, he could live forever. But it would be in a hell of his own making. Sighing, he sets the medallion down on the arm of his chair and turns to Clockwork.

"What now?" Vlad asks.

Clockwork's gaze his kind, the wrinkles on his pale face tugging as he smiles. "I think you've paid your price."

Vlad closes his eyes and leans back, feeling older beyond his years. "Yes, I think so to."

Ten years is a long time to watch the world burn. He hopes it was worth it.

#phic phight #phic phight 2020 #danny phantom #phanfic #phicc #clockwork #vlad masters #danny fenton #dan phantom #tumblroneshots

[ghostgothgeek]

Noted.

Another prompt for @currently-lurking‘s phic phight! This is another one for @deredereart.

Sam is not a morning person. Danny and Tucker find out the hard way.

Rated T for language

Word count: 1769

“I still don’t know about this. Sam stays up late, she doesn’t get up early except for school,” Danny said apprehensively as he walked side by side with Tucker to the Manson mansion.

“Nah dude, she’ll be excited! The Trinity of Doom 2 trailer looks so awesome, even we’re excited about it. She’ll love it!” Tucker excitedly walked to the front door, pulling the new movie trailer up on his phone again. “I’ve watched it like 6 times already. Plus, what’s the worst that could happen? She’s mad at us for 5 seconds until she sees the trailer? I’ll take that bet.”

“Alright, Tuck. If you say so.” Danny knocked on the door and was greeted by Mrs. Manson.

“Oh, it’s you two. Samantha is still sleeping up in her room, but you’re welcome to go up there and wake her. You might have better luck than me.” She stepped aside to let the boys through.

“Thanks Mrs. Manson!” Danny called back. He was still trying to get on her good side.

Tucker and Danny climbed the stairs and made their way to Sam’s room. “It’s locked.” Tucker tried juggling the door knob again with no luck.

“No problem.” Danny looked around before turning Tucker and himself intangible and stepping through the door.

Sam was laying on her side, her arms curled up under her pillow. Danny quietly walked forward and looked down at her.

It’s not that Sam never had moments where she looked so peaceful and happy, they were just few and far between. Sleeping was the only time she ever let her guard down.

Danny tilted his head to the side and continued staring. “You absolutely sure about this, Tuck?”

“Yeah. Plus the sooner she’s awake, the sooner we can go do something. I’m starving.” Tucker nudged his friend forward more.

Danny moved his face closer to hers. “Sam?” She didn’t budge.

“Like whispering is going to do anything.” Tucker snorted.

Danny rolled his eyes and tried again, louder than before. “Saaaaammm...wake up, Sam.”

Sam groaned and stirred a little bit, but remained fast asleep. Danny rested his hand on her bed next to her, leaning all of his weight onto his arm.

Danny was getting a little frustrated now. He was supposed to be the heavy sleeper. He looked back at Tucker, who silently started counting on his fingers. On ‘three’, Danny and Tucker both yelled her name.

With that, Sam’s eyes shot open and she had swung her leg out, captured Danny with it, and flipped him over so he was on his back on her bed. She was straddling him with her knees pinning his arms down, a butterfly knife being held towards his neck.

Danny’s eyes practically popped out of his head as he stared up at her in disbelief. Tucker was equally as stunned, though probably slightly less afraid as he didn’t have a blade pointing at his neck.

It took Sam a few seconds to register that her ‘attacker’ was just Danny, and she leaned back a little, though still on top of him, and pulled the knife back.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

“Yeah. Just me. Jesus, Sam!” Danny was still a little petrified.

“What the fuck? Why do you sleep with a knife?!” Tucker stared at her incredulously.

“For intruders. You can never be too careful. Though most don’t make it past the locked door.” She flipped the knife eloquently in her hand as she rolled off of Danny, who sat up next to her.

“That’s dumb. What if it was a ghost intruder? A knife wouldn’t do anything,” Danny stated matter of factly.

“That’s what this is for.” Sam’s free hand dug under her pillow and pulled out the Fenton Wrist Ray.

“Don’t point that thing at me!” Danny shouted and smacked her hand away.

“Yeah, you could have killed us!” Tucker whined.

“Oh, would you relax? You’re not dead.” She paused and looked at Danny. “Well, you’re half dead.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” Danny chortled back.

“What the fuck are you guys fucking doing here at….” Sam looked over at her alarm clock, “fucking 8 o’clock on a fucking Saturday morning.” She narrowed her eyes at them, irritated.

Tucker frowned, beginning to back track on his idea to wake her up. “Uh, well.” He pulled up the movie trailer on his phone again, now becoming more confident in his original thought that she would be just as excited as he and Danny were about the movie. “The Trinity of Doom 2 trailer came out and it looks awesome! Danny and I actually want to see this one!”

Danny grinned as Tucker bounced up and down a little, looking at his phone. Sam, meanwhile, had her eyes closed with a very annoyed look on her face. Danny’s smile faltered as he looked over at her; he was expecting her excitement, afterall. Instead, he could imagine cartoon smoke coming out of her ears, she was so mad. He gulped and looked at Tucker as Sam opened her mouth.

“That’s why. You fucking woke me up. Early. On a SATURDAY?!??” She growled and Tucker stumbled backwards a little bit. Danny bit his lip.

“Uh, yeah. Well...we thought you’d...I dunno, want to see it right away?” Tucker fumbled his words out.

“Yeah, I mean we know it’s your favorite,” Danny tried.

“I know, and it is. But I saw that trailer a week ago. I’m part of the movie’s message board of insider secrets. Something I assumed you knew, Mr. Hacker.” She glared at Tucker, grabbed his phone, and chucked it across the room. Tucker and Danny both winced as it hit the wall, fortunately not hard enough to damage Tucker’s phone, though there was a small dent in her wall.

“Hey!!” Tucker yelled and ran across the room to grab his phone. After he examined it and realized his faithful technology didn’t let him down and held strong against Sam’s wrath, he spoke up again. “Okay, can you put the weapons away and play nice already!? You’re really starting to scare me.” Tucker looked at her hand, which was still gripping her butterfly knife rather dangerously, the Fenton Wrist Ray sitting adjacently on her lap.

“What, this?” She questioned innocently as she twirled her knife around again. Danny was half expecting her to take one of her fingers off.

“Yes, that!” Tucker objected.

“And that too.” Danny pointed at the Fenton Wrist Ray.

Sam rolled her eyes and muttered something about them being babies as she put the weapons in her night stand drawer. “Whatever. See you in 5 hours.” She rolled over, her back to Tucker, and closed her eyes again. Danny watched her and looked up at Tucker.

“Well, we were kinda hoping you’d be ready to hang after this.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I said, I’ll fucking see you in 5 hours.” She grumbled and kept her eyes shut.

Danny threw his hands up defensively and got off her bed, grabbing Tucker’s hand and heading for the door. “We need to get her a coffee or her favorite vegan cookie or something when we see her later.” He muttered under his breath.

“No way, I’m not giving that psychopath anything! I’m pretty sure she has murderous tendencies!” Danny rolled his eyes at Tucker as he shoved him towards the door. Both boys froze, eyes widened, when Sam’s knife lodged itself into the wall right next to their faces.

“Shut. The fuck. Up.” Sam rolled over again and pulled the covers over her head.

Danny slapped his hand over Tucker’s mouth as he tried to retaliate. “Sorry, Sam. Sweet dreams.” Danny rushed out of the room and shut the door behind them. “How is it that whenever you get an idea to do something, I’m the one who nearly gets killed?”

“How was I supposed to know she’d react like that?” Tucker sped down the stairs and out the front door. “She definitely never used to pull that shit at our sleepovers!”

“That was also before we had ghosts coming after us 24/7.” Danny shrugged and looked back at the front door. “Plus, she has always said she was a creature of the night. I just never would have thought...I mean, if I get hurt fighting Skulker at night or something and tap on her window and wake her up, she doesn’t look that pissed. She just motions me in and stitches me up.” Danny frowned. She had never said he shouldn’t wake her up. In fact, she encouraged it if he felt he was in trouble.

Tucker looked at Danny and frowned as well. “Guess we shouldn’t have surprised her then. My bad.”

Danny glanced upwards towards her bedroom window. “I hope she’s okay.”

“Yeah, it’s probably a good idea for you to go check on her. I don’t want her on a rampage later when she’s fully awake. Plus you can always go intangible if she throws something at you. I’m not risking my technology again.” He motioned up towards her bedroom window.

Danny nodded and checked his surroundings before transforming into Phantom, turning invisible, and flying up to her window. He peeked inside and saw Sam lounging comfortably on her bed, cup of coffee in hand, and watching the movie trailer on her phone. Danny looked at her gobsmacked.

She looked up at him as he gently tapped on her window. She smiled innocently and gave him a little wave.

“Okay, what the fuck?” Danny entered her room once again and transformed back into Fenton.

Sam smirked as she continued to watch the movie trailer on her phone. “Well, when I threw Tucker’s phone against the wall, my butler heard and brought me coffee. Plus this trailer is really metal, I’ll get us tickets later.”

Danny couldn’t believe her sudden change in mood. “I...but you…and the…” He glanced at the knife still lodged in her wall. “Huh?” He looked at her confused.

Sam laughed. “I mean I’m awake now. That first part was genuine, though. Sorry about that. I could kinda see the rest of your half-life flash before your eyes.” She smiled amusingly.

“What the fuck, Sam?!”

She shrugged. “I have an image to uphold.”

“So, you’re alright then? You’re not pissed at us?”

“Initially I was. But I have coffee now. Plus scaring the shit out of you guys was well worth it.” She took another swig of her coffee.

After a few moments of silence, Danny finally spoke up. “Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

“Noted.”

#Team Human #Phic Phight #Phicc Phight #Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #stephanie writes sometimes

[sach216]

Rich Randy Reveal

Part of the rich Randy AU @queenofhearts7378 and I have going on… This has been in the works since July for me… ^^”

I gathered the previous parts in case you wanna read them!

https://queenofhearts7378.tumblr.com/post/147312533634/rich-kid-randy-au

https://queenofhearts7378.tumblr.com/post/149560193554/randys-secret

~0~

The four teenagers were chilling in their European friend’s large bedroom.

They were sitting in silence, the only sounds coming quietly from the television where Danny and Jake were playing a video game together. Adrien was working on his homework, and Randy was watching the video game.

However, the latter teen was quietly fidgeting, playing with his fingers and constantly shifting positions from his spot on the sofa.

No one seemed to notice, though, since they were all engrossed in their own activities.

“Um… hey guys?” Randy spoke up, and looked around. No one reacted, so Randy decided to continue. “I-”

“Aw come on!” Danny shouted suddenly, startling Randy to make him look up.

Jake smirked at him and laughed, “Ha! I’m totally beating your ghosty butt!”

Danny growled, “New game, dragon breath!”

Jake sneered back, “You’re on, sheet face!”

“What? I don’t wear a sheet!” Danny retorted.

“Well, ghosts do in those old timey Halloween movies!” Jake mentioned.

“Those are so inaccurate!”

“Whatever, let’s just play!”

Randy paused to watch the two bicker before they began playing again. He cleared his throat, “So… as I was saying before…” He glanced around at his friends, none of whom were paying attention, “If you guys wanna come over to Norrisville and watch a movie…” He still continued, his eyes flickering between Danny and Jake.

“What movie?”

Randy jumped and turned around to look at Adrien, who was studying at his desk. He scratched his head, “Well, not a specific movie, but generally watch movies and hang out.”

Jake shrugged, his eyes still glued to the video game, “That’s cool, dawg. When?”

Randy looked around more, “Uh… tomorrow?” He asked uncertainty.

Danny shook his head, “No can do, got homework.”

Randy pursed his lips, “Friday?”

“No for me,” Jake spoke again. “Gotta train with G after school.”

Randy frowned, “Saturday, then?”

“Sorry,” Adrien said this time, “I have fencing practice, Chinese lessons, and then a modeling gig.”

Randy’s face fell, his eyes dilating sadly, “Sunday?” He tried tiredly.

“Sure,” Jake said.

“Good for me,” Danny added.

Adrien nodded and flashed a thumb up at Randy, “I’m clear then.”

Randy straightened up and grinned brightly, “Bruce! Just come to my house! I’ll see you guys then!” He jumped up and ran to their portal, flashing back home.

The three boys stared as the other teen disappeared in a flash of light.

“What’s he in such a rush for?” Jake muttered, “It’s only three.”

Danny shrugged, then turned back to the TV screen, “Ha!” He laughed, his fingers flying over the buttons on the controller in his hands.

Jake swirled back to the screen quickly, “Cheater! You can’t unpause without me-!”

Adrien laughed lightly as the two began bickering again, then turned to his papers in front of him. Something about Randy’s behavior made him expect something different from him. He smiled and picked his pencil up again to continue his work.

~0~

All of a sudden, three flashes of light burst from the ceiling in the room, and a figure fell from each. Unexpecting the unusual height of their fall, three figures screamed in surprise, before falling into a pit.

Within seconds of their plummet, they resurfaced with large gasps.

“What the heck?” Jake shouted, “Where are we?”

Danny grabbed one of the colorful orbs surrounding them carefully, “Looks like a ball pit.”

Adrien glanced around, “I think he means the weird arcade place.” He pointed around, and the three of them observed the large room with multiple arcade games.

The three of them eased out of the pit of balls and carefully looked around.

“Don’t touch anything,” Danny warned, and the other two nodded.

Jake stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked around, letting out a low whistle from his lips, “Yo this arcade is sicker than your place, Casanova.”

Adrien frowned at him.

Plagg zipped out of his pocket, “Wow…” He looked in awe, “I agree with the punk.”

Adrien snatched Plagg from the air and put him in his shirt again, “Plagg! We don’t know who’s around!”

Plagg muttered something, but Adrien ignored him.

Danny went towards the large door of the arcade and slowly pushed it open, finding a hallway. Glancing around, he waved Adrien and Jake, “Come on, it’s clear.”

They stepped out of the room and found an open area with several other doors in the hallway. Off to the left they also found a set of stairs.

“Which way?” Danny asked quietly.

Jake shrugged, “When in doubt, go down?”

Adrien shared an uncertain glance with Danny.

“Okay, whatever,” Danny agreed, and the three stalked forward.

They made it down the first set, lowering down to the next floor, when a voice called out.

“What the juice?”

They only knew a few people who spoke like that.

“Randy?” Jake gasped. “'What the juice' are you doing here?”

Randy, who looked like he was approaching the stairs the boys were coming down from, stiffened.

Adrien raised an eyebrow, “What are you wearing?”

Randy was wearing a blue dress shirt and a brown vest with a pair of navy blue dress pants. It was something the others had definitely never expected him to wear. “It’s, uh…” He shook his head, “How did you guys get here?”

“We fell into the ball pit,” Danny explained, jerking a thumb behind him.

Randy’s eyes widened, and he coughed. “I didn’t expect you guys so early…”

“Early?” Jake repeated, “It’s already four.”

“It is?” Randy gasped.

Danny shook his head, “Anyways, where are we?”

Randy rubbed the back of his neck, “Yea, so… follow me guys.” Without another word, he rushed forward, climbing down the stairs.

The others rushed to follow the nervous boy down. They reached a large lobby like area, decorated with beautiful golds and browns.

Randy ignored their sounds of awe and confusion, leading them outside the large doors. He waited for them to reach him, before going down the steps at the porch area of the building.

“Uh, guys… this is my home.”

Adrien turned his stare to the building. A large mansion stood proud, with five floors, easy.

Jake and Danny stared at the building with shock.

“Shut up, man,” Jake reacted first. “You live in that small house near Howard.”

Danny crossed his arms and nodded, “Yea. Randy. Tell us the truth; who’s house is this?”

Randy waved his hands in front of him, “No guys! I’m serious! My parents are the owners of Cunningham Enterprises! My parents!”

There was silence.

Adrien took this moment to speak up, “It’s true, you guys.”

“No way!”

“How do you know?” Danny raised an eyebrow at Adrien.

Adrien scratched his cheek, “Well… he actually needed a suit from my dad a while ago, and told me about it.”

Jake’s face fell and he turned to Randy, “You told Adrien but not us?”

Randy flinched, “I’m sorry guys… I don’t really like to be here. That’s why my parents let me stay in the other house… I’m normal there.” He sighed, “I didn’t want you guys to be mad with me…”

The three boys stopped, staring at their friend.

“Randy…” Jake muttered.

Danny stepped forward, putting his hand on Randy’s shoulder, “You know, this is kinda exactly like what Sam did to Tucker when she confessed the truth. She’s got rich family too.”

Randy’s eyes widened.

“And you know what we did afterwards?”

Randy shook his head innocently.

Danny smirked, “We had a sleepover.”

Randy froze, then he jumped up, “That’s perfect! We have a huge movie theater room! And a pool! And a game room! And-” He stopped, looking at Jake.

Jake met his eyes and nodded. He held out his fist, “We’re cool, dawg.”

Randy grinned and pounded his fist with Jake’s. “Alright!” He rushed into the mansion, the others following him quickly. “Miss Graham!” He shouted from the top of his lungs when entering.

The others groaned at the sudden yell.

A calm voice spoke right after, “Yes Randall? Was it really necessary to shout that loud?”

Randy laughed, “Miss Graham, get the snacks! We’re having guests!”

Ms. Graham gave him a blank stare.

Randy stiffened, “Please!”

She sighed, “It’s about time. I will meet you in the theater, I presume?”

“You bet!” Randy shouted, rushing forward to the stairs. “Hurry up guys, it’s on the third floor!”

Jake groaned, “Don’t you have an elevator in here?”

“Sounds like someone is slacking off,” Danny snickered.

“That is so not the case man! We just came down these steps, anyways!” Jake retorted.

Miss Graham smiled at her dependent as the voices of boys faded away. Yes, she was happy that Randall had finally revealed his secret to his friends.

#rc9gn #rich randy #rich randy au #oneshot #queenofhearts7378 #sach writes #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja

[scientifically-strange]

A New Home

Danny didn't know what he was doing.

In general he typically didn't know what he was doing at least half of the time. But this...Well, this was way different. After the Guys in White took everything from him-his home, his room, his friends, his family-he didn't have anywhere to go. Except for one place in New York that Sam had pointed out to him, a place he could stay for the summer to maybe help him with his powers.

Sam...It hurt him down to the core, thinking of her silky, black hair and lavender eyes...Her sweet smile and a laugh that was heroine to him. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that she was gone.

Now that he was looking down at the large, old fashioned mansion he realized that he probably should have called them, get enrolled and all that. But it had slipped his mind when he had just barely gotten out of the GiW's grasp.

He landed in front of the large, iron gates and read the plaque that was right under the intercom.

"Xavier' school for Gifted Youngsters..." he muttered, shifting his backpack on his shoulder, wincing at the pain in his arm from one of the ectoguns that managed to hit him.

He was still looking at the plaque, working up the nerve to press the little red button, when the gates opened by themselves. Nobody was coming through, car or otherwise, so Danny took that as a sign that the dramatic entrance was for him. The driveway was long, and he hurt everywhere, but he couldn't risk these people finding out about his powers. He didn't know if they would be okay with them or if they'd treat him like the Guys in White had.

The driveway was long, and with how beat up he was, it seemed even more so. Thankfully he didn't look like trash off of the sidewalk. He cleaned up a little bit using a Denny's bathroom before flying part of the way over, and walked the rest. Flying was just to much at the moment.

After what felt like ages, he finally made it to the large double doors that held promises of safety and acceptance. In front of them was a bald man sitting in a wheelchair and a tall, African woman with white hair and soft eyes.

"Hello there, Mr. Fenton," the bald guy said as he clasped his hands together, "We've been expecting you."

Yeah, because that's not creepy, Danny's thoughts became more sarcastic the more tired he got. At this rate his sarcasm would be permanent.

"Uh," he said instead. Wow, real intelligent. "Okay?"

"My name is Professor Xavier. This here is my friend, Ororo Monroe. Now come, we must-"

"-Wait-" Danny interrupted. Stupid. "I-” he sighed, "I don't know anything about this place. My g-my friend said that if I ever needed to I could come here and maybe hang for a while."

"Ah, yes. Ms. Manson explained everything to us, and I assure you that you have nothing to worry about," the Professor replied.

"Really?" He was half hopeful and half skeptical. It was almost too good to be true.

Really.

Danny blinked once. Twice. Three times before he made eye contact with Xavier again. e gave Danny a sly smile.

Is something the matter, Danny?

The Professor was in his head. He didn't even know how to react. He just stood there for a moment, standing stupidly on the stairs and ignoring the pain in his shoulder, as he tried to process the fact that he was so stupid.

Professor Xavier. Charles Xavier. And the plaque. They were all signs pointing to the fact that everybody in that mansion had some sort of power. Danny was just another stray. But if it meant warm food and a nice shower after a week and a half of lying around in his own filth, then he wouldn't mind being a stray. Just this once. Eventually he finally got his foot to move forward, following the two adults to through the halls, past large rooms with couches and chairs. There was even a piano in one of them, and then they passed the kitchen. (He would remember that for later.)

Finally, they stopped at a bedroom, that was decked out in the standard arm colors that seemed to be all over the mansion. He kinda liked it though. And there was more than enough room for his NASA posters and glow-in-the-dark star stickers. Once he bought some new ones.

"This is your new room," Ms. Monroe said. The Professor was gone. "May I give you some advice?"

Danny shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

"Try not to sneak up on Logan."

And with a smile and a flash of her silky white hair, she was gone. By the time his brain caught up with him, she was already half-way down the hall.

"Who the hell is Logan?"

#danny phantom #danny fenton #storm #professor xavier #xmen #charles xavier #ororo monroe #dp #crossover #drabble #writing #marve