fic series rec. 218K and counting. Danny Phantom and a ton of Marvel peeps
Summary: In short - Danny gets adopted by Spiderpool
Comments: Normally I don’t rec a series until it’s done, but while not complete as a series and I have read all the stories AND OMG IT:S INCREDIBLE! I have given up morning walks and grocery trips, put fake meetings on my work calendar, all to continue reading this amazing tale of found families.
It’s got a bunch of stuff in here. Light physical h/c. Triple scoops of the emotional kind. But it’s also all wrapped up in finding acceptance and belonging from so many people - even as poor Danny realizes his mother is never gonna support him. I love Danny’s interactions with Peter and Wade (and Peter and Wade are also so cute) and how connected ghosts are with the mystic arts is really cool too. The worldbuilding around ghost cores is cool, and I love Foggy and Murdock helping seperating Danny from the Fentons. The kid just has so many people willing to protect him here. (And honestly, tying in MCU laws so they include ectoentities? genius)
Poor Danny has the worst luck, but it’s so nice to actually see him getting support from adults, you know?
SALAMANDERS!!! FOR EVERYONE!!!
I wanted to throw myself at stove and laundry salamanders, and its getting out of hand... The greenish one is native to Hyjalle, the funky stove dorito i would probably place in Prakra.
2nd salamander set here
Transparent versions and rambling under the cut .w.
Ok so i REALLY want to draw the laundry salamander from Prakra; i think it could be a nice play on its fiery kin (especially if it inhabited the Star Lakes, like a fun, star shaped head? YES)
Void Lake will have to get salamanders too, im tempted to design some more critters just for that basin BUT it clashes with my hc of it being a place that can barely sustain any life (a necromancers favourite). I might think about some undead creatures but atm i just. Enjoy the idea of it being empty.
The Hyjallan mudpuppy is my fave, and while considering how the stove equivalent could look like, i decided i actually dont want Hyjalle to have fire salamanders (or at least make them SUPER rare) so instead ill be drawing an Ash Viper for that part of the world. And yeah... a Hyjallan bestiary is a must for me, its THE BEES KNEES OF THE ARCANA WORLD, CANONICALLY.
Also Asra and Cas definitely go herping together, i already started drawing that too lol.
The illustrious @nightjarteeth is the mastermind behind laundry salamander! Good fortune and may your salamanders be plentiful <3
Flash in the Eyes
(So, I like this thing y’all are doing to save Flynn from Hartman’s hands)
Danny knew very little about his Aunt Alicia.
In his memories, she was a gruff and bitter woman, tall like an obelisk, sturdy like his mother was, and unyieldingly cold like his mother wasn’t. She was calloused in the hands, and the elbow, and the heart, and carried an earthy stench like hay and rainfall that reminded Danny too much of the one time he got lost in the woods. It was her face he remembered best, because in every young memory of his, her face was cast into a scowl of disgust that she seemed to reserve solely for his company.
Danny knew very little about his aunt – except that she hated him.
He kept this almost exclusively to himself, and internalized it the way that young children do – with the paralyzing fear that his aunt knew something despicable about him that Danny did not. He had tried just once to ask his mom why Aunt Alicia hated him, and his mother had waved and laughed. ‘That’s silly!’, she’d said, and she’d said it with such wide probing eyes, such a waver in her smile, that Danny understood she too must know the Despicable Thing about him.
Danny was 8 when he’d last seen his Aunt Alicia. The years since then had left his memories to bury and rot and grow brittle, like autumn leaves long sogged under snow, then dried in the spring sun, left as spider-webbed skeletons that crumbled at the touch. By the time he was 14, these memories were little more than a wisp.
By the time he was 14, Danny had new Despicable Things about himself to learn, the kind which well-overshadowed any old and forgotten memories. He knew now that he was a Freak, and a Loser, and a Cheat, and a Menace, and the Bringer of the World’s End, were he not careful.
At 14, when Danny saw his Aunt again, he’d long since forgotten that she was a thing for him to fear.
He was only staying the night, after a convoluted stunt from Jack left him, Jazz, and his parents all but stranded at Alicia’s until daybreak would allow them to wander the roads back into town and catch a bus back to civilization.
So Danny passed the evening the best he could – seated in one of Aunt Alicia’s rocking chairs, breathing in the cool earthy late-spring air, listening to cicadas and the strain and squeak of the rocker as he pressed his toes into the porch. He fixed his eyes to the clear night sky. The stars were so much clearer out here.
To his left, Alicia occupied the other chair, fingers busied with a knife that she whittled meticulously along the splintered edges of a block of wood.
“How old are you now?”
Danny startled at the address, and found his eyes had slipped shut. When had his eyes slipped shut? He blinked them to the sky, and glanced to the left. Alicia was staring at him.
“Oh, uh. 14 now.”
“Mmm,” Alicia answered. Knife point dug deeper into wood. “…Maddie’s got that portal of hers working, I’ve heard. Is that so?”
“Yeah. Oh. Uh-huh. Yeah her and dad. Their ghost portal—probably like—four months now, maybe? I uh, I don’t really know. I don’t uh… interact with it much.”
“…Have they been inside it?”
“Uh, no? I don’t think so.”
“Do they plan to?”
“Maybe. Uh. Probably. The specter speeder – it’s like this RV… space ship… thing… for going in the ghost zone. It’s something they built. So yeah uh, I guess, they probably do.”
Alicia lapsed silent. Her hands had stilled.
“Have you been inside?”
Danny tipped a little too far back in the rocking chair, and he felt it bottom out behind him. He wasn’t sure if the bottoming-out in his stomach was the chair, or the question – not that it mattered – since Danny responded only with a yelp and a pinwheeling of his arms. He was saved only by Alicia’s quick reflex, springing up and seizing the arm of the chair with her left hand – whittled bit of wood dropped to the porch.
“Thanks,” Danny breathed. And he looked up at his aunt.
And he remembered with an icy rush every single reason his 8 year old self had to be terrified.
Face cast deep into shadow from the porch lights behind her, Alicia’s bright green eyes watched him. Pinning, thin and probing, aggressively predatory in a way that reminded Danny all too much of ghost beasts. Her lip was curled up, exposing a few missing teeth, set upon that scowl that flashed through a dozen memories racing back to his mind. It was an expression that seemed intimately aware of every Despicable Thing there was to Danny. And with the tiniest flicker of his eyes, Danny focused on the whittling knife in her hand. Brandished.
Panic doused him, lit his every nerve on fire, and Danny fumbled for escape. He crashed down to the porch with a yelp, and his head cracked hard on the wood. Danny hissed, hand pressed to his head, and looked back up.
Alicia had backed off, surprise overtaking her hardened features. None of that flash of malice showed. The light fell normally on her, painting a slight gauntness to her face, but the arched brows, the parted mouth, and the startled eyes contained not a hint of danger. She glanced to the whittling knife in her hand, and dropped it on the porch, and raised both her hands palm-up.
“S-sorry! I startled you, huh? Just trying to catch the—” Alicia lost her voice. She was staring back into Danny’s eyes, and confusion evolved into something caught between horror and revulsion.
Danny blinked, and realized his world was tinged in green. His fight-or-flight had activated, his body was pulsing with adrenaline and ectoplasm, and he felt it all too late in the shimmer of his eyes, doused green. The scary eyes. He blinked it away. The damage was done.
When the Fentons packed their things and left the next morning, very few words were exchanged between Danny and Alicia.
The Fentons set out to follow the single dirt road back to the center of town. Danny looked back, and watched Alicia grow small in the distance, her and the house both, left alone, sealed back into the nothing-ness and the no one-ness. Danny found himself shivering at the memory of the previous night, and wondering even why Alicia had chosen to join him on the porch in the first place.
Maddie and Jack chatted about idle nothings. Jazz had occupied herself in pocket-sized book she’d managed to stow along on the trip. Danny only stared forward, and said nothing, and walked.
Danny knew very little about his Aunt Alicia – except that she hated him.
Danny knew very little, except that now, she feared him too.
Danny sat on the memory, reshaping it, wondering how he must have looked from the other side. What did his glowing green eyes look like to those he pinned with his gaze? What did she know now? What did she suspect? What reason did she have to look so afraid?
The last question sat uneasily with him. Danny carried himself forward on legs all but numb, and wondered whether he was something worth being feared after all.