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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 8 days

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 33

MASTAPOST

god im so sleepy lmao also warning for skulker being a mega creep, but not to the extent of vlad

Damian, for the second time in as many days, awoke in a tank, a fact with which he was extremely displeased. The last thing he recalled was his stomach lurching, the bag he’d been stuffed into serving as an excellent package for Skulker to make off with him. Damian longed for a good blade to sink into the man’s body.

That fact was amplified by the feeling of cold metal on his scales. Damian scratched at the golden bracelets cupping his arms. He was dressed up in luxurious gold and jewels like a lecherous sultan’s slave. A ringed belt-like piece of silver wrapped around his waist and looped over his hip fins. Two more golden rings, each adorned with gleaming rubies, cupped the thinnest portion of his tail just above his tailfin. Despite his best efforts, he was unable to relieve himself of any of the filthy things. They were fitted tight as a glove, almost like they were made for his measurements. Damian shivered, and turned to more productive activities.

His new prison cell was at least more amenable than his last. In fact, it was a little too amenable. Damian found himself in a veritable miniature aquarium. If it weren’t for the reflection of his scaly face in the glass and the lavish (and frankly, tasteless) furniture beyond, he’d have thought himself in the actual ocean. The bottom was padded with beautiful white sand, populated by towering coral structures and schools upon schools of fish, jellyfish, and even a few manta rays. Stalks of kelp rose to the ceiling of the room, as the tank was that tall. Seaweed swayed in an artificial current. Damian picked up the sound of a wave machine gently pushing against the surface of the water.

Tapping the glass proved it was not some common fishbowl’s glass. The barrier between the water and air was at least two inches thick, something even a human Robin would find trouble with, let alone his current state. A golden shine caught his eye. Damian tutted. His fins rattled. It seems Skulker’s poor taste knew no bounds. Solid gold pillars lined the corners of the tank, and ran along the top and bottom.

With a closer look outside the tank, Damian clocked the numerous animal heads lining the walls of the room. Even more baffling was the inclusion of beautiful hand-crafted stone bird fountains scattered around the walls and mounted on posts in the room, populated by, of all the things, red duck candles. An old fashioned writing desk and chair sat facing away from the tank, decorated with what else but more preserved animals, and even more tacky candles, as if they were bought from the novelty shops that Richard would occasionally visit.

Outside of his already-revolting interior décor tastes, Skulker was a hunter. Went after rare and exotic creatures, Danny had told him. Damian’s eyes narrowed. Now he understood fully what the man was after. The abduction, the drowning, the pursuit, the sudden presence of the GiW in Panama, the entire reason for this trip in the first place.

The better question now was whether he was the prize, or the bait? And Damian suspected he was both. After all, Danny had made it very clear how much Skulker wanted his pelt specifically. Why go through the effort of making such a luxurious fish tank for a dead teenager?

There were so many other sirens in the sea, though. It made perfect sense that Damian would be the bait, but why also the prize?

He had caused a media sensation when he’d first arrived in Gotham. Tabloids ran for months, drooling over the gossip and rumours surrounding the mysterious biological son of Bruce Wayne. He’d been swarmed by mobs of rich snobs trying to pair their daughters with him, until his biting tone chased most of them off.

While Skulker wanted to make a coat out of Danny’s scales, he probably also wanted to allure of having such a mysterious and exotic pet. A pet that he’d had a direct hand in creating. Damian’s cheeks heated. He gritted his teeth. Of course. Here he was as much a trophy as the heads on the wall.

The door swung open. Damian bared his teeth. His fins flared wide. If he had his way, he’d be sinking them into the man’s jugular. Instead he was forced to bear Skulker’s smug smirk. He walked in, dressed in black cargo pants and a tank top instead of the customary hulking metal suit. Damian’s scales ran cold as the man looked over his body, bare except for jewelry he himself had placed.

Skulker went to the desk and retrieved a microphone from the drawer. He flipped it on, causing a brief whine in the tank.

“Good afternoon, Damian Wayne. I trust you find your new accommodation satisfactory?”

Damian hissed at him. “If you set me free I might let you live.”

“Hah!” Skulker laughed. The man reached into another drawer and pulled a can of beer. “I’m afraid the world outside is far too dangerous for a little guppy like you. You’ll be safer in here.”

“My absence has already been noted. You will not be able to get away with this!”

“Do you truly believe that, little boy?” Skulker shotgunned the beer in one. “Your little friend Danny wasn’t recognised by his own mother at gunpoint. And even if by some miracle they came here, what would you do? Squeak at them?”

Actually, he would tap out a message in Morse Code, but Skulker didn’t need to know that. And this time he would not hesitate.

Still, that brought up another concern. Skulker did not know he was Robin. As far as he believed, Damian was just some spoilt rich boy. On the one hand, it meant that there would be underestimation, and from there an opportunity. On the other hand, any overt competence he displayed would do badly for the family secret.

What a conundrum.

“So what do you intend to do with me, then? Sell my scales? Bed me?”

Skulker gasped in genuine shock, not the fake politeness that he’d seen Father’s parasites give off. “Did you not know? I am Skulker, the greatest hunter in the seven seas! I am not some kind of sicko. All the pleasure I need comes from the thrill of the hunt! And you have been an admirable quarry, and may now live out the rest of your days in comfort as my greatest trophy.”

Despite his ‘reassurance,’ Damian distinctly thought this made him even more of a sicko. “And what of Phantom’s pelt?”

“Danny will be my greatest coat, or a handbag. I’m open to options. Probably won’t even die the first skinning, what with his regeneration.”

Definitely a sicko. This man would fit right in on Gotham’s rogue’s gallery. Damian had disdain for hunters, especially trophy hunters, but to chase after someone whom you know is human? He recalled the fiery siren girl’s words back at the cave near Amity. To go after your own kind indeed. And Danny had the confidence to casually banter with this man like it was Tuesday?! Not to mention while being shot at by his parents, and the government.

Robin always had Batman, and the family, and the Justice League beyond those people. There were times he craved independence, to strike out on his own and prove himself, only to sorely regret it when it inevitably went pear-shaped. And yet Danny did all that and more, and the only adults in his life wanted to kill him.

“Phantom is thrice the man you will ever be. To covet his skin will only bring you ruin.”

Skulker pressed his face right up against the glass, grinning sadistically. Damian hissed back. “What does a baby sea monster know about manhood? Or ruin, for that matter. Let me spell it out for you. You. Have. No. Rights. Nobody who has those rights is coming for you. I could parade you around animal conservation centres for all the world to see and as far as the law is concerned I’d be as innocent as a newborn babe.”

Rage boiled over. Damian snarled. He lashed out against the glass, clawing uselessly at the barrier. Skulker only laughed harder. Damian slammed at the glass with his tail. His tail rings clanged against it uselessly.

“You’re an adorable trophy. I ought to put a little bell on you, like a kitten.”

The man left soon after, cackling like a TV supervillain (or just a regular real life supervillain, honestly), leaving Damian to stew in his rage.

He was not one to stew for long. With rage, there was never inaction.

Danny stuffed as much seaweed into his mouth as he could fit in his arms. He shoveled shellfish in like a waterslide. His belly bulged with how much food it was taking, and yet kept shrinking rapidly. Danny slashed open a fat fish. He sank his teeth into his flesh, ripped out the guts, then threw the rest out in seconds. It would take too much time to pick the flesh between bones, so he just killed another. Then another, and another.

He’d exhausted himself, and got Damian caught by fucking Skulker. That mistake couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t fail Damian again.

He tried to ignore the way his skin crawled just from how close his mother was. How close Damian’s dad was. If Bruce Wayne learned how badly he’d fucked up, Danny would be a dead fish and he wouldn’t even complain. He deserved it.

Danny ate, and ate, and ate.

He sniffed the water. It was Skulker’s dolphins. The trail was heading away from the shore. Danny swam faster than he had ever swum before.

It seemed Skulker had anticipated many of his first ideas. Damian found the water filter practically welded to its spot. His new ornaments proved useless at breaking or dislodging anything. He’d even found the larger rocks of the aquarium affixed to the bottom and immovable. The pebbles gathered up in bunches at the bottom proved ineffective as well. At the top, Damian found a hatch, probably for maintenance and cleaners to enter, but it was sealed shut. The tank featured no other entrances or exists. What he saw was what he got.

Even if he could break the glass, he didn’t even want to. He was not the only unwilling resident of this tank, but he was the only one with lungs. That left the top hatch as his current best option.

Damian swam into a nook, and began to plan.

This was not ideal. No weapons, no tools, a body for which measures had already been taken. Of course, Danny might come for him. He might. He’d heard an explosion moments after he was snatched right off Danny’s back, then there was the issue of Dr Fenton and his father. To expect Danny to be swift was unreasonable.

In fact, it might be Damian who needed to save Danny.

Which was to say he could not afford to lounge around. Simultaneously, it was possible he’s be forced to play the long game in his escape attempt, and the longer he had to endure Skulker’s lecherous gaze, the more chance he might pop a vein or two.

Time to work on it then. Damian swam up to the top. He knocked against the hatch, testing its durability. To his surprise, there was just the slightest amount of give. Perhaps with a pebble, he could pry it open. A crowbar would’ve been preferable, but beggars could not be choosers.

Seizing stress overwhelmed his tiny body. His subconscious recognised it first. Then his conscious mind registered the rattling of everything in the room. The boat shook, as if rocked by an attack. Damian dashed back behind a rock. He waited for a moment.

Skulker did not come. Perhaps Damian had underestimated Danny’s tenacity yet again. This represented a prime opportunity. While Skulker was busy fighting Danny, Damian could escape and then assist.

So he got to work immediately. He picked up the largest pebble he could get his scaly hands on. Then he went to the bottom of the tank. Steeling his nerves, Damian kicked his fins in sync. He undulated his body in one fluid motion, and surged with blinding speed. The metal clanged loudly and echoed in the water as he slammed as hard as he could against the hatch.

It budged a quarter of a millimetre. Damian could hardly believe it. Then he did it again. And again. What he lacked in body mass he made up for with supernatural speed, pebbles in hand bashing against the hatch. He could not hear any more fighting or gather information on the situation outside the ship. The drive to get back to his friend fuelled his resolve, let him ignore his bruising knuckles and aching elbows. Damian surged up and attacked the opening once more.

His heart sank. The door was pushed open enough to reveal a padlock and chains covering the outside. Curse that Skulker! Damian yelled Todd-esque obscenities as he clawed uselessly at the chains. The lock was too far in the air for the water bound boy to reach, the opening too narrow to fit his hands through. He was Robin! He had no intention of letting a demented two-bit hunter with an ego the size of Lake Michigan get the better of him.

So Damian coiled his tail like a spring again. He imagined all sorts of hateful and unpleasant things plastered over the hatch. The Fenton parents. The Joker. Grandfather.

Nerves fired up, Damian snarled a barely-human battle cry. He launched himself faster than ever before. One second he was at the bottom. The next he was-

The next second, Damian found himself above the surface. Barely registering his surroundings, he let his gills open up immediately. Did he break the hatch? Was this super strength?

He was on some kind of platform over the tank, like the kind at aquariums for trainers or feeders. There was a tight constrictive feeling around his waist. Damian looked back, and his eyes widened.

The doors had budged, but only by a few inches. The lock and chain remained, albeit stretched out. And Damian? His waist compressed through the tiny gap like an octopus. He made out the gleam of the silver belt and necklace on the other side, wrapped around his tail, which should have been too big for them to fit, and yet Damian barely felt inconvenienced.

Well. This changed things.

Damian gripped the metal platform and pulled. He distinctly felt his organs squelch. His stomach had been pushed into his chest cavity, finally returning to its normal spot as his waist came through. His hip fins folded in on themselves. Then each of his bones in his tail bent like rubber bands, his scales sliding through with the help of his copious mucus secretions. At last Damian’s tailfin went through the gap, thin enough to not require any nauseating body modification. Unfortunately, the rings above it were also small enough. If he had the time, he’d have forced them off.

He didn’t have time, though. Danny was out there and he needed his help. With the help of his mucus, Damian slithered snake-like over the metal platform, then down the stairs at the side.

Skulker’s trophy room looked even more garish when there wasn’t glass covering his view. Damian spat on the carpet in disgust. Indeed, he was already intending on slathering a generous trail of mucus over the expensive decor, but it was not just about the raw damage. It was about sending a message.

Damian began to roll across the room. However, just as he went underneath one of the fiendishly ugly bird fountains, another explosion shook the room. Out of water, it was able to ring at his ear fins. Damian was startled out of his wheel position, splaying himself on the floor.

The shockwaves rattled everything in the room. The water rippled. Mounted animal heads jerked up an inch before returning to their hooks. The post holding up the bird fountain just above Damian jerked to one side. Before Damian knew it, a small waxy weight fell on his side.

Everything in his body burned.

The jet ski’s radar pinged bright. Their drone in the air confirmed it. Turns out Brucie Wayne had some nifty contacts. Managed to figure out this ‘Skulker’ fellow was the proud owner of a yacht, and had connections in the human trafficking business. Jack felt sick to his stomach.

Brucie should’ve come with them, should’ve been there to rescue their sons by his and Maddie’s side, but he was still injured from Jazz’s mind-controlled swing, which meant it was just the classic Fenton pair once again. He felt another tinge of pride for his daughter’s arm. But mostly, he felt ready to tear this Skulker apart molecule by molecule.

He just couldn’t believe it. Maddie’d seen him. She’d seen Danny. He was right there and she was just that close and then-

He relaxed his body and took in a deep breath, just like Jazzy said. Whatever was going to happen, he and Maddie were going to give it their all, and get the boys back. Then this would all be over.

Five kilometres north. He glanced to his side, where Maddie, the love of his life, revved her craft. Now or never.

Their presence did not go unnoticed. Jack’s goggles picked up dozens of rockets in the air. His scanners detected torpedoes in the water. Without a word, Maddie was firing at will, and Jack manned the jet skis’ systems. Counter-torpedoes launched from tubes underneath their seats. Mini-guns sprang from their concealments and opened fire.

“Jack, there’s one flanking you!”

“Go high!” He yelled back. Jack spotted the lone torpedo moments away from hitting his ski. On cue, Maddie’s jet ski shot ten feet into the air off the back of its thrusters. Jack waited until it was within striking distance. He pushed the handle bars to full throttle as his ski’s backup thrusters went into overdrive. He shot off away from the torpedo at a sharp right angle. Once he had enough distance, Jack directed the blasters to intercept.

The yacht emerged from the horizon. From hatches and panels along its hole, a veritable arsenal primed itself to fire. Looked like Brucie’s intel was solid. Now it was his and Maddie’s time to shine. Jack charged his weapons, he nodded affirmation to Maddie, and together they went into the fray.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #mermaid au #angst #bruce wayne #danny phantom #skulker #creepiness

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 9 days

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Danny puts up with a lot of stress, okay. His coping mechanism is....okay, it's a little weird, he's not gonna lie.

It is widely known that he has a human form and a ghost form; it is not widely known that his ghost form can do pretty much whatever he wants it to.

This includes making it smaller. Changing the ghost tail to a fish one. Making the suit be scales instead of a suit.

He does it so many times he now officially has three forms, and one of them is purely for himself and no one else.

His stress relief is to go to the aquarium, switch to the tiny merman form, and hide in the rocks of his favorite exhibit; the shark exhibit.

He stays in the back, away from the people visiting it's sight, and just vibes. He's even made a small cave the sharks can't fit into a tiny little nest.

No one would expect him there. No one would be looking for him there. He was free to just...take a moment.

Well, so he thought.

Because the humans visiting did see him. Multiple times.

They took pictures.

Now the Amity Park Aquarium is in some deep shit with Atlantis, because there's documented proof that they're keeping a literal baby mer in there as a spectacle.

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 9 days

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Janet’s magical device alerts her to traces of siren mucus in the mansion and around the grounds, and she and Jack Drake are thrilled. They talk animatedlt up and down at the possibility of a siren being right here.

Poor lil Tim overhears them, and his face flushes with delight. Even tho they dont know its him, his parents are talking about him with more emotion and enthusiasm than ever in his life…

Maybe it would be ok to share his secret with them? :3

Siren Hunters

For @meowmeowmeowmeow4x

Siren hunting is not a profession befitting of someone of Jack and Janet Drake's elite status. Those who have publicly expressed their desire to hunt creatures found only in fairytales have been ridiculed and belittled, mocked for their foolish passions and desires. And yet.

Jack and Janet have always been fascinated by those tales of sirens, and sailors being lured to their deaths by the song of a monstrous creature that disguised itself as a beautiful woman. But they could never pursue these interests for fear of being disgraced by their peers and family. That was, until they met Jack Fenton and Maddie Walker in college.

They became fast friends, with their shared interest in sirens and passion for uncovering the truth. After college, they went on numerous hunts (and as far as Gotham's citizens knew, they were going to archeological sites), and though not every hunt was successful, many were, and that only made them more determined.

All of this, however, only left poor Tim Drake home alone for months on end, with no clue as to what his parents were really doing on their "archeological digs" - because he was just as clueless as the rest of Gotham City. (The Drakes didn't want little Timmy to ruin their reputation by blabbing about how they hunted sirens, now did they?)

The only bright side to Tim's otherwise crappy and lonely life was Danny.

Danny was the Fenton's son, and he would babysit Tim whenever his parents went with Tim's on their hunts. He was six years older than Tim, and his self-proclaimed cousin - though Tim couldn't help but feel like Danny was more of a brother to him. Danny certainly cared more about him than his own parents did, never once denying him the love and affection he craved. Tim had a feeling that it was because Danny understood what it was like to have parents that completely forgot about your existence in favor of their jobs. But he never asked.

Danny wasn't there when it happened. Danny wasn't there when Tim drowned in Gotham Harbor, having slipped and fallen into the water while trying to photograph the Bats' fight on the docks.

Danny wasn't there when the Bats turned him to save his life.

Tim couldn't bring himself to be upset that he was a siren now. His new family was amazing, and gave him all of the love and attention he could ever want. For the first time in a long time, he was happy. Tim couldn't help but think that Danny would like to live with the Bats and get a nice family, too.

Then his parents - plus the Fentons and Danny, surprisingly, though Tim certainly wasn't complaining - came home for the summer.

#dpxdc #tim drake #kid tim drake #jack drake #janet drake #danny fenton #though he's kinda just mentioned #mer tim drake #siren tim drake #mer danny fenton #absolutely fun #mermay #angst #mermaid a #transformation #mermaid au #siren au

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 12 days

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"Daniel Fenton, after much consideration, myself and my fellow Observants have decreed you the chosen hero for another world. You will be given a body which better suits it, and a blessing from an Ancient of your choice in order to complete your quest."

Danny, sitting in his haunt with the rest of his family, all of them ghosts now, doesn't know what to say.

Like, seriously, what the fuck does anyone say to that?

Then his brain finally kicks into gear. He's gotta be dreaming. He hasn't dreamed in many hundreds of years, but this has to be a dream.

"Uh, Nocturne, am I-?"

"Nocturne it is! Good luck, Chosen Hero!"

The Observant slaps Danny, Danny blinks, turns to snap at him-

-and he's...in a decrepit ship?

He tries to stand up, only to propel himself into one of the ship walls.

He looks down.

That's a tail. He's underwater.

Did...did he just get reverse Arieled?

First things first, he needs to find out how to move with a tail instead of legs and a distinct lack of ghostly powers. After that, clothes. And after that, he'll see what the hell the Observants meant about a quest.

Or; There are Lazarus Pits forming all over the ocean floor, with not only ghosts coming out of them but demons and all sorts of enemies. With Phantom truly dead, the Observants can't justify sending him to another world to fix it as he has no connection to the living in it. So they opt to go for a loophole; the Chosen Hero Clause. There's...definite drawbacks. He'll lose most if not all of his ghost powers, so they'll need at least one Ancient to grant him some new ones. Clockwork obviously favors the boy, so he'll grant his blessing in his own time. Or not, the Ancient is cryptic and unpredictable. But they have no idea what Nocturne will Bless the boy with, since they thought they were on bad terms. So they give Daniel Fenton a body of a species long thought extinct in his new world, put him in a location close to a relatively small Lazarus Pit, and just...hope for the best.

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 13 days

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Awwww i love her eyes and the details on her finger nails! And the brushstrokes for her hair :D

dont have the energy for much but happy birthday ame, i love you so fuckin much <333

#nso kangel #nso ame #nso #ame chan #needy streamer overload #happy birthday #art #reblogart #others art

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 14 days

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 32

MASTAPOST

Samson S. Skulker. Wealthy real estate owner, noted trophy hunter. Been on safaris in Botswana, Indonesia, India, and other countries taking big game. Guy hunted just about everything. Elephants, rhinos, tigers, elk, only to come to Elmerton Bay, just an hour away by boat from Amity Island.

It didn’t take two brain cells to figure out why. The better question was why Phantom tried to point webbed fingers at him as to the whereabouts of Danny Fenton, a move that was transparently (goddammit Dick and your puns) a lie, according to Bruce. Tim Drake slipped into the man’s more private records without even trying.

Of course, getting the data out and parsing what it meant were two very different things. But he wasn’t trained by Batman for nothing. Skulker did make cursory attempts at hiding his electronic paper trail, but cursory was absolutely not enough to keep 13-year-old Tim out, let alone his current self.

Firstly, the man absolutely hunted more exotic, more illegal creatures. That much was clear. Borrowing some of Barbara’s programmes, Tim found the man travelling to much more remote countries. His little vacations coincided with missing persons reports around the same time.

Missing metas, to be exact. Each person with a power set dangerous to themselves and others. Each person having disappeared without a trace and then never to be found again. The picture Tim was building was getting grimmer.

Secondly, the man was buying parts. Robotics parts, to be exact. Engines, weapons systems, hydraulics. Many of them sourced from Vladco, the company founded by Vlad Masters, an old college friend of Jack and Maddie Fenton, who were the parents to the missing teenager of Tim’s current case.

But Danny Fenton did not have the meta-gene, a fact Tim confirmed after yet another concerning breach of privacy. He filed that detail away for later investigating.

Tim pressed a key, letting his programmes run while he got a coffee. Oh sweet delicious coffee. He had once distilled almost pure caffeine into a syrup. It was the most horrible thing he’d tasted in his life, but the buzz kept him up all night, that was until his heart started giving out. That was less enjoyable.

What was also less enjoyable was the revving motorcycle heading into the Batcave. Two motorcycles, in fact. Just as Tim’s afternoon was looking to be peaceful and quiet.

“Don’t fucking give me that, Dickwing!” Jason called out.

“I’m fine, Jay, maybe you need to stop hovering over me like some mama bear.” Dick put down his helmet with maybe a little too much force.

Jason hopped off his own bike. “That’s bullshit and even Timbit knows it.”

Tim shrunk into the Batcomputer’s chair. He so did not want to be a part of this. He just waited for his older brothers to carry their argument out of earshot, like they had been doing regularly now. The men traded strong words with every footstep across the cave.

“Maybe I’m just a little high strung. It’s honestly nothing.”

“You literally cannot fucking say that when I saw you going full-ass Punisher five minutes ago. Like the traffickers yesterday were one thing. Those guys suck. This dude was literally just a mugger. Are you going out of your fucking mind?”

“Jason, I thought you were supposed to be the one who’s all for going full Punisher style?”

Jason groaned loudly, and then transitioned into a frustrated scream. “Do you even hear yourself?!”

The changing room door slammed shut.

That was the second argument in the last two days. If you told Tim that Mr Heads-in-a-Duffle would be lecturing the Golden Child over excessive force, he’d start working on a machine to send you back to the topsy-turvy alternate dimension you’d come from, but apparently his dimension was the topsy-turvy one the whole time. And he hated it.

Turns out Dick inherited more from Bruce than he liked to admit, including his awful coping mechanisms. And to be honest, he was way too tired to even begin to breach this subject.

He should be happy that his literal attempted murderer was going to be out of his hair for a good while, maybe even forever. But even entertaining the thought made him sick enough to avoid the topic in his head for hours, only to think about it again, and get himself sick again.

So back to Skulker it was. Joy.

It turned out his new friend Skulker had made himself a fucking Iron Man rip-off suit, capable of flight, diving, and packed to the gills with fuck-you bazookas, machine guns, and hydroplasm weapons. Hydroplasm guns that he’d sourced from the Fentons themselves, through a long and complicated chain of buyoffs.

And happy day, the man was kind enough to install cameras and microphones, and kept logs from both.

In a surprising twist, it was fiendishly difficult to hack into those logs. Tim was honestly beginning to sweat. He suspected Skulker’s friends at Vladco (namely Vlad Masters, the sleezeball. Tim never liked him at galas and this only cemented his low opinion) had some secrets that they didn’t want out.

No matter, it was only a matter of time. Tim continued typing.

And typing.

What the hell was this firewall?! Tim pinched his arm just to make sure this wasn’t a sleep-deprivation hallucination. He could’ve sworn he’d gotten through that layer of security. It was like it was shifting itself to cover up his progress and force him to start over. Almost like it was alive.

Against the thunderous backdrop of his brothers’ clashing voices, Tim set himself on overdrive. If he could just act faster than it could correct itself, then maybe, maybe.

A plain error message informed him of the results long after he’d already seen them. Tim kicked the table for good measure. The only thing he could extract was two frames of video footage. They showed, respectively, a T-shirt and pair of sneakers that matched what one of the missing metas was wearing when they were last seen.

Was it damning evidence? Absolutely. But it also proved to him absolutely nothing that he wasn’t already suspecting, nothing that could point him in a new direction. Still, it made his stomach churn. He hoped those people would get a better second chance beyond the grave.

Maybe the fact that the data was this well-hidden at all proved something.

The locker room door swung open, his brothers in civvies and glaring at each other, trying to appear civil in front of (right behind) Tim, even though they’d literally just been shouting at each other ten minutes ago.

“Timmy!” Dick called out. “How long have you been awake?”

Tim gestured offhanded to his pile of only two used mugs. “Not long enough. I’m still working. Can you take it upstairs please?”

Jason huffed, and stalked off upstairs without a word, probably too disgusted to be in his and Dick’s presence much longer.

Dick clasped his hands. “It’s fine, Tim. Honestly. Jason and I are just having a little, err, disagreement, is all.”

“Hm.” Tim inputted another set of commands. He was starting to see why Bruce liked to say that now. Avoiding painful emotions felt so good. Dick made a pained noise.

“Well, ok. I’m just gonna head back to Bludhaven now. Say hi to Alfred for me! And contact me if you need anything!” And then he sped off.

Tim shook off the awkwardness like old clothes. Thank goodness for some peace and quiet again. Maybe that was why he was working so hard to help Bruce get the demon child back, so he could return to the status quo, and not this. This hell reality where Dick was as emotionally constipated as Bruce and Jason was the one acting as the voice of reason.

The first night when Bruce called home, the entire family was in an uproar. Dick got a pale look on his face, and was halfway about to take the Batplane and go searching for Damian himself, only for Bruce to remind him that they were all still needed in Gotham and Bludhaven, and whatever few leads there were, Bruce would pursue. It was effortlessly logical, but it was clear Dick hated it. He stormed off in a rage that Tim had only seen when Ethiopia was fresh, when he and Bruce were at their lowest.

And Jason? He got this look on his face that he’d never, ever seen before. Tim had laid awake one night just contemplating it for ages.

Actually, no. He had seen it once before. It was Tim caught Jason looking into what Bruce was doing in the months after Ethiopia. Tim had subtly hacked the phone camera, and the look Jason had then was the same as how he looked when Damian was declared missing.

Tim shook his head. It was a gruesome image, what Bruce had sent them. Damian’s clothes ripped to shreds. The ground stained with his blood. No body in sight.

A little brother who may or may not be dead, something he may or may not be glad or sick to his stomach about. Brothers who were acting like completely different people, and a monster of a man who had to be connected somehow.

A ping appeared in the corner of the screen. The government siren hunting branch appearing in Panama?

Sam Manson sat up in her bed, her body finding some way to release the dread and tension. She looked on at her phone in horror and macabre fascination in equal parts.

This had Danny written all over it. She didn’t even need to hear the anchor confirming it to know.

On the one hand, she really wanted to applaud him for fucking them up this bad. The comment section was ripping into the GiW for their actions in Panama, treating the country like it was some vassal state they could romp around in. She personally screenshotted the fucking beautiful mass car crash the GiW had gotten into trying to catch him, and saved it into her favourites folder.

On the other hand, she really wanted to slap him for fucking up this bad. This could’ve easily gone wrong. Danny what were you thinking?! They could’ve got him that time!

And finally, she wanted to yell in frustration, because they had a radio communicator there. Goddammit! If only Tucker had known, they he could’ve hacked in and they could’ve talked to their best friend and actually got an update on what the fuck was going on.

And finally, finally for real, she was so glad, because the GiW would’ve announced it on every news channel if they’d actually managed to catch him. Thank fucking goodness.

Ugh, this headache. She really needed to lie down again.

Knock, knock knock knock knock, knock knock.

Dread pooled in her stomach. “Come in,” she said, resigned to her fate.

Grandma Ida, the person she least wanted to see right now, opened the door. She was the kind of woman who never carried herself very seriously, except for in matters of sorcery, and especially when warning Sam on the dangers of her craft. Dangers that Sam had ignored in order to go all out. Now she marched into Sam’s bedroom like an executioner.

Grandma stood at the foot of Sam’s bed, scanning her closely. “I knew I smelled tinged blood.” She went up to the side, and palmed Sam’s forehead. Her hand was freezing cold to the touch. “You should’ve called me immediately.”

Sam averted her eyes. She should’ve, but she didn’t.

Her parents never failed to get a rise out of her; she rejected their notions of female beauty and social etiquette in every way, their attempts to hook her up with Tim Drake-Wayne, then Damian Wayne, and she hadn’t cowed to them or submitted since she was ten. But with Grandma’s withering disapproval, she couldn’t feel more like a child if she tried.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“I warned you many times of the risks, Sammy. You’re lucky to be here, and not in the hospital or worse.”

“I know.”

Sam moved to lie on her side, facing away from Granny. Granny had questioned her decision to fight alongside Danny, but allowed it under the condition that she did so safely, and turning your body into a popping water balloon, but with blood, was so not the definition of safe.

And Danny’s fate was still in question regardless. He wasn’t able to cross Panama, and who knows what Damian was doing. What if it was all for naught?

A hand was put on her shoulder. “Did you accomplish what you were set out to do?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

“And was it worth it?” Yes. Absolutely yes. Danny bled every day for this god-forsaken town of ingrates. He’d bled for her mistake six months ago.

Granny seemed to understand her feelings. She nodded, and ruffled Sam’s hair, and the tension in Sam’s body drained away.

“Then I trust your judgement. Can you sit up? I’ve brought some more medicine for you.”

Sam pushed herself against the bunched-up pillows at the headboard. Her head spun from the motion, but she was never one to let her body’s limits confine her. “Thank you, Bubbe. I love you.”

Granny passed her a brew of herbal medicine, dozens of dried spices and mushrooms brewed together into a blackened sludge that felt like knives into your tongue, but which never failed to get her feeling better. It was a leg up from what big pharma tried to pedal for ten-fold the price.

Sam lifted up the mug to her face. And, oh yeah. Nothing like bitter liquid pain to help with a migraine. She let the hot tea flow over her taste buds, pathing them in cinnamon, star anise and a million other things.

She finished her tea in one satisfying gulp, running her tongue over her teeth and scratching out the lingering aftertaste. As she put the mug down, it revealed Grandma’s face hovering right in front of her. Sam yelped in shock. “Bubbe! You gave me a heart attack!”

Bubbe smiled devilishly. “So what did you do?”

Sam’s mouth gaped open. Leave it to her Grandma to almost kill her from emotional whiplash.

“Now come on, this is a monumental moment for a budding young sorceress like yourself. Why, when I was twenty-two, I used to run with some heroic types myself. We had all sorts of hijinks together.” Bubbe cackled and clasped her hands, eyes going wispy. “My friends got a heart attack when I pulled off my own hare-brained scheme to topple the evil overlord of the week’s central command. Hah!”

“What?!” Then Sam coughed, and lowered her volume. “What do you mean ‘heroic types.’ You just told me you went to some stuffy academy and eloped.”

Bubbe shrugged. “I did do that. Must have forgotten the extra stuff.”

Sam blinked.

She moved to sit beside Sam on the bed. “We got up to a lot of fun back in the day, and a lot of pain too. I did what I did to protect those I cared for. Did you, bubbeleh?”

She held Sam’s hand with a look that reminded her just how many years Grandma had lived, and how many adventures or stories she had yet to tell, how much heartache she’d had to endure to become the woman she was now. “I projected an illusion all the way off the coast of Panama. It hurt like nothing else in my entire life, but…” She paused. “We got Phantom out. He’s safe now, I think.”

Grandma Ida nodded solemnly, the kind of understanding that Sam craved from her parents every waking moment of her teenage career.

“I don’t want this to be a regular occurrence, ok?”

“Yes, I promise. This was an extreme circumstance.”

“Good. Now, are you well enough for some meditation? It would do well to keep your soul energy flowing.”

Ok, but you have to tell me what you got up to back in the day.”

Granny chuckled, and agreed to it. Sam kicked off her covers, letting her legs get some fresh air. She was probably pushing it, but she needed to recover as quickly as possible. Who knew when she would be needed again?

Maddie Fenton kneeled in the sand. Her hands clamped down on her gun. Her knees shook. Tears prickled in her goggles.

Her baby was right there. He was so close. So fucking close. She could almost touch him, even now.

And he ran away from her. And at first her heart shattered into a million pieces, just like it had when he’d come home after his first disappearance and flinched when she hugged him.

Then she realised. He was protecting her. Some metal menace was shooting at her defenseless son like it was some kind of sick game. The monster of a man had laid fucking landmines on a public beach.

It should’ve been her protecting him.

Bruce Wayne returned to her side, empty handed. They’d scoured this entire beach. Danny couldn’t have gone far, she had thought, only for their search to turn up with nothing.

That left only one option. That her enemy doubled back after fleeing, and snatched Danny up without either her or Bruce noticing. Maddie’s heart sank. She should’ve aimed for the head.

A name pinged in her mind. Phantom had whispered it to her. Skulker.

With nary but nod, she and Bruce mounted their jet skis again.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #mermaid au #angst #danny phantom #tim drake #mer!danny #mer!damian wayne #mermay #mermay 2024

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 15 days

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I was watching a ghost hunter show where the ‘ghost’ could only use the machine to say pre-recorded words. And I had an idea. We know that technology can’t always work with ectoplasm. So what if ghost speak couldn’t be heard over the phone? And to call for help, the Amity Parkers had to get creative to get ahold of the Justice League when the GIW declares all out war on all the ghosts and liminal in town.

Dead End Call

“Hello, you have reached the Justice League emergency hotline. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“Hello, hello. Emergency, hello. Justice League.” A distorted male voice answered back.

“Yes, I can hear you. Can you hear me? what is the nature of your emergency?” Green Lantern asked again.

“I can hear you, emergency. Hello Justice League. Hello emergency.”

“Do you need help? Can you hear me?”

“Help. Help. Can you hear me? Help.” The voice distorted again to something like static.

“Prank calls aren’t funny kid. This is an emergency line.” With an exasperated sigh, Green Lantern hung up.

“What was that about?”

“It’s just a prank call. Some kid using a voice mod thing.”

“Really? That’s annoying.”

“I know. But it’s not that unusual. Kids don’t have anything better to do during the summer.”

“I guess. What are you doing on hotline duty? You’re not scheduled for refresher training for another few months, right?”

“Food fight in the cafeteria. Batman added everyone involved to additional monitor or dispatch duty twice a week for the next month.”

“Yikes. Hate to be you. Who else got caught?”

“Flash, Plasticman, Vigilante, and Shining Knight.”

Zatanna raised an eyebrow. “Can’t imagine Sir Justin getting involved in a food fight.”

Hal shrugged with a good-humored smirk, “Vig took a salad bowl to the head, Sir Justin jumped in to cover his retreat. Right in time for Bats to break up the fun.”

Zatanna giggled, “Poor Sir Justin.”

“Poor Sir Justin?” Hal Jorden gasped dramatically, “What about me? I was just an innocent bystander.”

“I’m sure you were.”

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“Unlike you. I’m just here for one shift for refresher dispatch training.”

“Good for you. Well, have at it. The active-duty roster is on the big screen with who's suited up and available.”

Zatanna looked up at the large monitor with pinging dots in various locations around the world. “Alright. A bit better than the old system of scrolling for available heroes and asking where they are.”

“Yeah, Cyborg linked everyone’s com into the system so we can tell who is where, when their com is active.”

“Sounds good. Alright, Let’s do this.” Zatanna put headset on and clicked ‘available operator’ on the screen. Immediately her phone rang. “Hello, this is the Justice League Emergency Hotline. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“Emergency. Hello, Justice League. Emergency.” A female voice came through her headset. The connection was very poor. Interference and static came through.

“Can you hear me? This is the Justice League emergency Hotline. Do you need help?” Zatanna looked over at Hal. He was fiddling with his headset cord. He looked up at her and she gestured her head to the screen. It was the same number as his prank call.

“Hear me? Help. Justice League. Emergency Help.” The feminine voice sounded vaguely familiar. Zatanna ignored it to confront the prankster.

“Kid, this isn’t a joke. This is a serious line for actual emergencies. You can’t keep calling. I’m going to hang up now. Please don’t call back.”

“Isn’t a Joke. This isn’t a Joke. Please don’t. Hang up now. Actual Emergencies. Keep calling. Hotline. Justice League. Help. For actual emergencies.” The static under the female voice sharpened. Zatanna paused. Her finger was just hovering over the button to end the call when something stopped her. The tone of voice was sharp. Irritated. Also, strangely familiar. After a second it dawned on her. Hal was still looking at her, so she waved him over to listen into the call. Once he was listening with his own muted headset, she asked “Are you…? Are you repeating what I’m saying?”

“Repeating. Help. Isn’t a Joke. What I’m saying. Emergency. Help. Hello. Help. Emergency.”

Zatanna finally recognized the voice. “Is that my voice? Are you repeating with my voice?”

“Repeating. Voice. You. Emergency. Help. Isn’t a Joke. Help. Justice League. Don’t. Hang Up.”

“You’re using my voice to talk back to me? My words. And…You can only repeat what you hear… is that right?” Zatanna shared a glance with a horrified Hal. Him, just realizing he had hung up on an actual emergency. Not a kid playing a joke.

Zatanna’s own voice echoed staticky in her ear. “Right. Right. Can repeat. Only. Talk back. Using voice. Help. Emergency help.”

“Are you in danger?” She looked over at Hal who was typing on his own computer to trace the call origin. He looked back at her and shook his head. Weirdly, they can’t find where the signal is coming from.

“Danger. Emergency. Help Justice League. Help. In danger”

“I understand. I’m going to ask you where you are. Do you understand?” Zatanna was going to have to narrow this down. She pulled up a world map onto her screen.

“Understand. Help. Emergency.” The static in the voice softened slightly. Like relief.

“OK, we need to know where you are. What continent are you on? Asia? Africa? Australia? Europe? North America? South America?”

“North America. Help. Emergency.”

Zatanna clicked on the screen to enlarge the North American Continent. “OK, you’re in North America. Are you in Canada or America?”

“America. Help.”

Another click of the mouse to focus on the USA. “OK are you in the North, Northeast, Southeast, West, Southwest, or Midwest?”

“Midwest. Midwest. Help emergency. Help. America. Midwest.”

“OK I’m going to ask your state now. Do you know it?” Zatanna clicked on the Midwest region of the map to enlarge it more. Hal was standing up now. Anticipation making his body glow faintly green. He was texting something on his phone, but Zatanna ignored it to focus on her own echoing voice on the other end of the line.

“Know it. know it.” Her voice repeated back, “Ask.”

“Are you in North Dakota? Are you in Minnesota? Are you in South Dakota? Are you in Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, Missouri, Wisconsin, Illinois, Michigan-“

The voice interrupted her. “Illinois. Illinois, Midwest America, Illinois. Help. Emergency. Justice League Help.”

“Do you know where in Illinois you are?”

“Yes, yes. Where Illinois. Emergency. Ask.”

Zatanna enlarged the map of the state infront of her. The closest hero was in Detroit Michigan and they didn’t’ have any abilities to help them get to Illinois quickly. She gestured to Hal to look at the screen. He nodded his understanding. “Do you know where in the state you are? what region or what county?

“County. Know. County.”

“OK I’m going to name a few counties. Tell me yes or no if you are there, okay?”

“Yes, yes. Tell me.”

Zatanna listed off the counties on the map. Her tongue slightly tangling over the midwestern words. “OK, Joe Durres, Steffensen, Winnebago, Boone, McHenry, Lake, Cook, Dupage, Kane, Dekalb, Ogle, Carroll, Whiteside, Lee-“

The voice interrupted again. “ Lake. County.”

“OK you’re in Lake County. is that right?” Zatanna clicked over the county and enlarged the map.

“Right. Right, help. Emergency. In Lake County.”

“OK I’m going to name off some cities in Lake County. Are you in a city? yes or no”

“City no. name cities. Yes.”

Zatanna paused for a second. “Do you mean you are not in a city, but you can name the closest one to you? yes or no?”

“Yes. Name. Closet one. Name. Closest. City. Emergency.”

“Okay. I understand. Are you in Gurney? are you in Libertyville, Grayslake, round lake, or round lake beach? Are you in Lake Forest, Zion, Vernon Hills, Highland Park, or north Chicago-“

The voice cut her off again. “Park.”

“Are you in Highland Park?”

“No. Park. In Park. Park. Park. Park. Emergency. In Park.” The tone of the voice did’t change but the words came faster, almost overlapping over themselves.

“OK calm down. Let me understand. Are you in a park or in a place called park?”

“In a place called Park. Help emergency. In place called park.”

Zatanna scanned the list of Illinois cities called ‘Park’ in the county. “OK are you in Round Lake Park or Beach Park, Deerfield Park, Park City, or Deer Park.”

“No. Place called Park. No city. place called park.”

“So you’re in a place called Park but it’s not a city is that right?”

“ Right. Place call park. Emergency. not city. Help.”

“OK, let's go down the list. Brook Park, Mill Park, Park Barrington, River Park, Park Township, VernonPark Hills, West Keegan Park, West Deerfield Park, Amity Park, Wheeling Park-“

“Amity. Amity Park. Emergency in Amity Park. Emergency in Amity Park. emergency help help emergency.”

“OK you're an Amity Park. Is that right?”

“Right. Right. In Amity Park”

Zatanna nodded to Hal who was still texting on his phone. He nodded back to her.

“OK, I know where you are now. Now we need to know what kind of emergency is it a natural disaster? is it a villain? is it an alien?”

“Villain. Emergency. villain villain villain.” The words came fast. Static was almost overwhelming.

“OK, calm down. I'm right here. Does the villain have powers or not.”

“Villian have. No. Powers. I'm here. Powers. Help. Natural- powers. Help. I'm. kind of. Natural. Help. Powers. We. Need help. OK?”

Zatanna paused. The sentences didn’t make sense. The villain did not have powers? But the caller said “I’m. Kind of. Natural.” She shared a look to Hal. Hal typed on his computer and a message appeared on her screen.

“I txted Flash. He can be there, but he needs to know what kind of situation he’s running into.” Zatanna read the message and nodded.

“OK. You need to give me more information. There are villains but they don’t have powers? Can you tell me what kind of natural powers you mean? Are they metagene powers? Are they magic? Are there weapons?”

“Magic. Weapons. Powers magic. I. powers. magic. Help. Can you help. Me?”

Zatanna felt a rush of fear. Magic powers. ‘Villains no powers. Weapons’ must mean that the villains don’t have any powers, but they have weapons that can affect the magic user who is calling. She looked over at Hal. He nodded. “Okay. I have magic too. I am going to Amity Park to help you. Can you tell me how many villains there are? Are there more than five or less than five?

“More than five. Villains. I have magic too. Villains. Weapons. more than we. I am going too. yes. Yes going. Help.”

So, the caller definitely needed magic backup. Zatanna gestured to Hal who began to send an all-notice message to any Magic using League hero. “Are the villains after your powers? is that right? the villains are attacking you for your powers?”

“Right. Right villains attacking for powers. Help emergency. More than me. Powers. Villains attacking. We need help. Amity park. Needs help.”

Zatanna froze. ‘We need help.’ More than me…powers. We need help. Oh god. “Is there more than one of you with magic? There’s a group of you with powers that the villains are attacking?” Zatanna asked. A group of magic users fighting villains? Maybe sending more magic users isn’t the best idea. They might need some heavy hitters for this.

“Group. with powers. Magic. Amity Park. Magic. Villains attacking. Disaster. Emergency help. Villains have. More than one of you. Of you. We. villains have. More than one. Of We.”

It took Zatanna only a second. By now she was standing up out of her chair. “Do The villains have hostages? With magic powers? How many?”

Hal had linked in the call with multiple coms. On the large monitor Zatanna could see multiple heroes dots shift slightly. All in the direction of Illinois. She was grateful to see Wonder Woman, Flash, and Captain Marvel all headed in that direction. “We’ve got hero’s coming your way. They will be there soon to help you and rescue the hostages.”

“Many hostages. Many magic in Amity Park. Weapons. Villains have. Weapons. We have. Magic. Villains have Hostages. Villains have. Soon. Powers. We need help. Heroes coming. Justice league. Help. Not villains. We not. Villains. Help we.”

Zatanna felt sick as she understood that message. ‘The villains have hostages and weapons. The caller and the others have powers. But then… villains have…soon…powers. Did that mean that the villains were taking powers away from whoever was calling? She paused at that last sentence. “You’re not the villains. what do you mean by that?

“We. Not. the Villains. Villains have hostages. Villains have weapons. Isn’t a joke. Isn’t. Isn’t Right. We. Not Villains. We Natural. We not weapons. We not villains. Help. Rescue hostages. Rescue. Me. Help Me. Help we have Powers. Help.”

“You’re not the villains, I know. You say you are natural. Do you mean that when the heroes get there, they might think you are the villains and get confused?” Zatanna knew that multiple heroes were silently listening to the call.

“We not the villains. Heroes might think. Powers. Are the. Weapons. We Amity Park. We need help. Justice league get here. Rescue Hostages.”

Hal messaged her again on her screen. Zatanna read off the message.

“We’ve alerted the Illinois National Guard as well. They’ll be there soon to help.”

“No. No. No. National Guard. No help. Villains. Guard villains. Help we. Help Amity Park.”

Zatanna looked confused. “What? No the national guard is coming there to help.”

“National Guard. The.Villains. They guard. The villains. No help. They’ll. Weapon. Amity Park. Powers. Justice League Rescue Amity Park. Help. Help. Help.” The static became so prevalent that Zatanna had to fight the impulse to rip the headset off. She tried to decipher the words.

“Okay. Okay we’ll help you. But we need to be able to find you. Are you in a house or a building? Can you get to a rooftop?”

“Building Rooftop. Heroes Find Me.”

“How can we find you? Can you wave a flag or give us a sign. Are you a woman or a man? What do you look like.”

There was a long pause. “I can. Wave. Kid. Kid. Woman. Kid woman.”

Zatanna wondered for a long moment where the word ‘kid’ came from before remembering when she first accused the caller of prank calling. She said ‘Kid, this isn’t a joke.’ The she felt bile flood her throat as she understood what they meant. “Are…are you a child?”

Zatanna’s own voice answered back. “Child. Kid. Woman child. Rooftop. Help Justice League. Find. Me. Help Hostages. Help. Amity Park.”

Flashes voice came over the com line. Muted from the call but clear in Zatanna’s other ear. “Oh my god. I’m here. It’s a war zone. There’s…We’re going to need back up. Medical units. There are tanks and fires everywhere. There’s been some kind of artillery shot at different buildings. It’s a war zone.”

There was a silent horrified moment as all the heroes listening absorbed the information. “I think I see our caller. It’s a little girl. Maybe eight or ten. White hair. She’s floating. She’s on the library roof with a giant phone. I think she sees me.”

In Zatanna’s other ear her own voice repeated. “Heroes find me. Rooftop. Help.”

“The man in red is called Flash. He’s there to help.”

“He’s there. Man In Red. Help. Flash. Find me.”

“I’m on my way too. Just stay with Flash and tell him what you need, okay sweetie?” Zatanna’s voice was infinitely softer now that she knew it was a child on the phone.

“Okay. Stay with Flash. Help. On. You. Way.”

The line shut off and Zatanna flinch at the sudden silence in her ear. She glanced over at Hal. “I’m going to Zeta down to Amity.”

“I’m right behind you. Flash said a war zone. I…I need to be there.”

Zatanna nodded at his guilty expression. “Right. Let’s hurry and get to Amity Park.”

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 15 days

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…. Wait i just realised that this was inspired by my fic??? Aaaaaaaa i died a second time when i read that im so beubdindonsi ssn

This is now my canon interpretation of danny’s appearance jk

But its so cool again its amazing

a deep sea danny for mermay~

i got inspired by @meowmeowmeowmeow4x's lovely fic, Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun! I don't think my depiction of danny is completely accurate to the story, but i looooved the description of his transparent skin with visible bones and organs and wanted to give it a shot!

#DBMatSS #pixel art #fanart #dpxdc #danny phantom #mer!danny #mer danny fenton #mermaid au #mer au #sirens #transparent mermaids

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 15 days

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I’m angry because tumblr didnt let me add more than 30 tags :(

How am i supposed to gush about this?! >.<

a deep sea danny for mermay~

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dpxdc #mermay #mermaid #merman #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #IM SCREAMING #THIS IS LITERALLY SOME OF THE BEST MER ART IVE EVER SEEN FOR DANNY #THUS TAKES ME BACK TO MY CHILDHOOD OF READING CAPTIVITY BY ATTIEISAN #like holy shit he looks so good #im screaming im melting im dissassembling #just the BONES #ive seen a few trabsparent mer arts before #but very few of them capture this vibe of being incredibly eerie #ghostly #and almost sunken-eye like quality #this is amazing can i just scream a little more?#we need more transparent mers in our life #i also LOVE the background and lighting #just the perfect creepy dusk/twilight zone of the ocean where everything’s getting dark #AND OMG HIS HEART #HIS HEART #i literallt forgot to mention his heart because i looked at the art for like one second before hitting reblog #i fucking love his heart all glowy in his ribcage #aaaaaaaaaaa #and the way his skin hugs his bones so tight just like in the fic #this child needs food somebody feed him #AND THE TAIL BONES TOO they’re soooo good #and the glowing eyes!!!!

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 17 days

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Day 3: Dwelling/House, feat. A coconut octopus! 🥥 🐙

#mermay 2024 #piddermermay #coconut octopus #octopus mermaid #merman #mermaid #drawing #artists #OMG HE'S SO TINY #I LOVE HIM #WANNA PROTECT AND NURTURE #BEFRIEND THE SMOL

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 17 days

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IT IS MERMAY

IVE HAD THIS LOCKED AND LOADED SINCE APRIL

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 17 days

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 31

MASTAPOST

big thanks to brekitten for betaing this chapter, and HAPPY MERMAY TO EVERYONE YAYAYYAYAYA

Here’s a fun fact, Danny noted, as he sat in the driver’s seat of the GiW truck they’d stolen GTA style from the government. Despite having a father whose driving may be more dangerous than the sirens that he hunts, and parents who built a tank that can float…

Danny did not know how to drive.

But luckily, Damian did! Thank goodness. Guess that rich kid education was paying off.

The issue, though? Damian didn’t have legs at this moment.

Which meant that Danny was the one stepping on the gas, while Damian took the wheel, sitting in Danny’s lap.

Here’s a fun fact. Whenever Danny’s dad drove, he always used to think that it was the scariest thing in the world. The G-forces turning you into a ragdoll. The screaming and car horns from other people. The uncertainty of whether you’ll make it to see the next day.

On this clear summer day, Danny learned that there was something far, far scarier.

To have all of that happen, and you were the one at the driver’s seat.

“Step on it!” Damian shouted. Danny could only comply. Stray shots blasted past the windows, but the armored vehicle stood firm. Another blockade was up ahead, a blockade that was very quickly becoming vacant as agents scattered to the side.

Damian cackled maniacally. His howling trills filled the air and mixed with the screams of the agents.

“Should I slow down?”

“Negative!” Damian yelled. Danny was seriously regretting following this plan. Why couldn’t they have just walked and snuck around the barriers?!

The blockade smashed into pieces. The truck rammed through the gates signs like they were wet tissue paper. Well that went slightly better than they’d expected. But there was still the issue of the very large tail of vehicles pursuing them.

Danny looked back and forth nervously. “Please tell me you have a plan for those guys.”

“Shoot them.”

“What?!”

“With your ice. Give them a frozen tire or two.”

Danny gulped. He was used to a little fighting, but this was getting ridiculous!

Then again, it was the GiW. Yeah, go on then. Danny poked his head out the window. Damian had torn up part of his shirt (rude!) and forced Danny to wear it like a mask. He’d also put some mucus in his hear to make it white. It was a challenge to twist his body to keep pressure on the gas pedal while also looking behind him, but some siren flexibility helped.

There. A GiW car lead the chase behind him. One of the agents glared at him with all the hatred she could muster (so the same amount that he usually received from glares), and fired a beam that missed him by about 40 degrees. Yeah. Good luck with that aim. Danny returned by icing over the road. His powers created a right-facing ramp right in front of the car. The car could not brake in time and flung itself to the side. Then an armored SUV took its place in the front.

Danny grinned mercilessly. Maybe Damian had a point.

He narrowed his glowing eyes. His target was small, but its relative position was pretty constant. Just a little to the left… and that was just perfect. Danny flung an ice beam. It hit its mark perfectly. The tire of the SUV leading the chase froze completely. The vehicle skidded out of control. Then the truck right behind it failed to brake in time. Like dominos the entourage crashed into each other like a perfectly programmed sequence. The sound of car alarms and clanging metal filled the air like music as the boys sped away in their getaway vehicle.

That was not the end of it, however. Danny spotted more and more vehicles assembling from the side roads. Danny flung ice like a kid in a snowball fight, but he’d burnt most of the energy from the tamales earlier. He needed more food.

“Save your strength,” Damian called out. “We are almost at our destination.”

Before long, the countryside roads gave way to tall buildings and crowds of tourists. With the vehicles hot on their tails, Damian yelled at him to slam the brakes. At the same time, the kid swung the steering wheel hard left. The truck drifted on its side for a few heart-stopping seconds before coming to a halt.

Danny kicked the doors open. He and Damian were out in seconds, invisibly slipping into the gathering crowd of onlookers. He bumped a shoulder or two, and more than one person waved their hands over their noses, making a disgusted comment in another language, but the crowd meant more than one kind of invisibility.

The agents filed out of their vehicles in quick succession, looking to muscle through the civilians. However, a matching crowd of police officers met them, engaging in heated argument. Danny had the distinct feeling Damian absolutely intended this.

They walked through the streets of the town. Further away from the truck, the crowd became sparser, but it was still very busy. American brands lined the storefronts, and local street food venders populated the sidewalks. From the corner of his eye, Danny spied a prime opportunity.

He casually sidestepped the sleeping security guard on his way to a suitcase and backpack store. Damian side eyed him, or at least he felt he did. “Relax Damian, this will make things much easier on us.”

Did he feel bad about stuffing Damian into a waterproof backpack? Maybe. But look, keeping invisibility on for hours at a time was hard! He needed a little respite. Besides, the GiW were probably looking for a white-haired scaly menace, for all that he was careful never to show his fully human form to them.

And Damian wasn’t even gonna overheat and die of heat stroke! He’d been very careful to ice over the lining of the backpack to keep the kid cool. Now if only he’d stop complaining.

“I would like to put it on the record that this is an awful idea.” Damian punctuated his fifth complaint with a sharp jab into Danny’s soft human spine. Ouch.

“Dude, I am literally undetectable right now. What more do you want?”

“You look like a vagrant with a very, very clearly stolen back pack.”

Maybe Damian had a point. People were staring, and covering their noses. Perhaps he had miscalculated. Danny ducked into an alleyway and camouflaged himself again, even if it made his stomach churn. “Look, their scanners are pretty close ranged, but I’m using my powers, it’s way easier for them to detect us.”

“Tut. Very well, but you still need a better disguise. Move quickly. I can smell them filing into town even from here,” His passenger chittered. And move quickly he did. Danny ducked into a clothes store and yanked the first articles he could see. He was half-tempted to reject the clean clothes to spite Damian, but spiting the GiW by not dying seemed much more attractive of an option. Then he borrowed some food from a convenience store.

It was necessary for his survival, even if it made him ill.

With his slightly less homeless-looking clothes, Danny was finally able to show his face without looking like a street rat. Well honestly he still looked like a street rat. The kind of things salt water and four days of not showering will do to your hair. But he at least looked like a decently-dressed street rat.

The agents had already swarmed the town. Thank goodness the sun had dried his hair again, or he’d be clocked in a blink. They patrolled around the streets in pairs and harassed innocent bystanders about the siren menace, all the while an official-looking police guy yelled at an official-looking GiW guy.

“We are close to the shore. Keep calm.” Damian whispered.

Just keep calm as the people who want to dissect you look you right in the eye. Thank you Damian for the encouragement. Danny forcibly slackened his shoulders, and slouched his back. Just a normal teenager. Nothing to see here.

The edge of the town was just ahead, maybe a hundred meters. Just needed to avoid suspicion for a few minutes more.

Danny walked through the human-shaped landmine, suddenly distinctly aware he had no shoes on. Only three meters away, an agent scanned over a young man, then attempted to pat him down, only for the man to shout at him and pull away. Then two more agents showed up and held his arms down. Danny shuddered, but he forced himself to continue. Danny hid himself between two adults walking past. He held his head low. It was just like high school, avoiding Dash, he told himself. Just like high school.

He was inches away from leaving the outer bounds of the area when an agent called out right to him. “Hey you!”

What does he do. What does he do, what does he do what does he do?! Sweat pooled on his neck. Just play natural. Yeah. Put all the hours of Spanish lessons to good use!

Danny turned around, and with his most casual smile possible, said.

“¿Yo no hablo ingles?”

Even he cringed at how bad that sounded. Adrenaline pooled in his still legs. The agent rattled off some excuse the government was peddling, and then pulled out a scanner. Danny’s eyes widened. If he stayed, Damian would get detected. If he ran, he’d be outed as a sympathizer at the best. If he fought, then the whole world would know Danny Fenton was a freak of nature.

Danny’s brain moved a mile a minute, but his muscles locked in place. What could he do. What could he do.

His eyes locked on a pair of Panamanian policemen behind him, with grim looks on their face. He scrambled together the last vestiges of the Spanish class he’d barely been passing.

Danny sucked in a breath, and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“¡AYUDAME!” He shouted. Danny crossed his arms over his groin, and put on a pained expression. “¡LOS GRINGOS ME TOCARON!”

The agent blinked in puzzlement, like a deer in the headlights. His dumbfounded expression contrasted with the thunderous look that came over the Panamanians. Thank you Jazz for forcing him to actually study. Maybe foreign language classes weren’t all that bad.

Danny took the distraction and speed walked away from the premises, as verbal fireworks and fists flew.

The beach was in sight. Just a couple more minutes, and the GiW would never be able to catch them. Danny sprinted for the water. This close, the urban roads transitioned back to foliage and dirt again. He ducked underneath low branches, and jumped over fallen debris.

Then the air buzzed. The familiar scent of ozone permeated the space. Skulker.

His nose picked up the rocket. Danny lunged to the ground. A tree exploded into dozens of splinters behind. The shockwave threw him further away and slammed him into a rock. His vision shifted nauseously.

“Put your mask on and run!” Damian shouted, having emerged from the backpack. Danny didn’t need to be told twice. He slicked his hair and booked it. Without his lateral line above water, Danny was forced to rely on Damian spotting for him. Skulker’s missiles exploded in mid-air as his friend took to intercepting them with his shots. More came through, forcing Danny to duck and weave through the storm.

“Where is he?!” Damian shouted. “I cannot get a visual on him.”

“He keeps flying into different spots to shoot at us. We need to get to an open field.”

Then came the machine blasters. The shots tore through leaves like they weren’t even there. Danny threw up an icy shield that deflected the shots away. Heavier blasts pelted the shield and forced him to reinforce it even more, straining his body.

Skulker’s voice cried out somewhere to his flank. “Over there!” Damian cried out. Danny threw an ice spear in the blink of any eye. It flew through the dense tree top. Seconds later, metal tore open in a screech. A smoking Gatling gun fell to the dirt.

Danny sprinted through the remaining thicket, and burst on to the beach. “Quickly, Danny!” Damian shouted. Stray gunshots blasted sand high into the air. Danny jumped behind an upturned wooden boat, ducked and rolled. The boat exploded into splinters, but otherwise shielded him from the blast. Danny tramped over seaweed and sandcastles alike, a mad dash for the water where he’d be in his element.

A net collided into his body from the side. The boys were thrown to the sand. The force sent Danny’s mask flying off his eyes, right as he spotted two familiar figures just off the beach.

His blood turned to ice. “Damian. Hide in the backpack.”

“What are you talking about-” Damian sucked in a breath.

“Get in now!”

In the water, standing on a jet ski, his mother lowered her binoculars, and suddenly she was racing towards the shore line at breakneck pace. Skulker laughed in the air. Danny threw off the net, dashing back into the jungle. He couldn’t get caught. Not now. His vision flashed with bright lights and glowing gun barrels.

“Don’t think you can simply run away from the mighty Skulker, whelp!” Skulker charged up another salvo. Just then, a blue shot tore through his arm cannon.

“Do not touch my baby!” His mother roared. She front-flipped off the jet ski and landed soundlessly on the sand. She charged for Danny, arms outstretched. “Danny!”

His foot landed on a patch of sand that didn’t sink slightly inwards like he’d thought it would. Danny’s blood turned to ice.

Sand erupted in a plume of yellow and white. His ears rang like high-pitched white noise. Danny barely registered the backpack being torn off his arms, Damian’s screeching becoming further, and further. The last he saw of Damian was in the clutches of Skulker, who shot him a metallic smirk as the man retreated into the sky. He smelled his mother and Bruce Wayne running up the beach. He nearly passed out turning invisible, aided by Skulker’s sand smokescreen. It was all he could concentrate on.

Danny stumbled behind his mother and Bruce’s backs, even as she yelled “Danny! Danny! Baby boy, where are you?!” into the empty beach. He stripped wordlessly in the water, turning skin to scales. But it was the lack of that familiar weight over his shoulder that made him feel more naked than anything else.

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