Captain Bitch Ninja's Blog

Danny, nodding: Knife Monopoly.

Ilya's pout deepened. Shane wished he could say it had absolutely no effect on him, but his husband is like a big puppy. It isn't easy saying no to him, but Shane Hollander doesn't give up easily. Especially when a) they've already agreed on this and b) he selfishly gets to enjoy Ilya begging for a little bit. He turned back to his stall and resumed putting his practice gear on.

"Shane," Ilya whines.

"Nope. We agreed. You aren't going to change my mind."

AKA "Gotham has a new vigilante, Eidolon: a phantom, spirit, or spectral double of a living or dead person. The batfam are absolutely not adopting this one." Or: how to acquire a new family member in 3 steps.

Part 1, Part 2

"So... did anybody else hear that or is my gas mask totally screwed?" Spoiler squints as she presses her ear to her comm, trying to make out the garbled comments of the bat brood through crackling static. She does, however, hear Jason's voice say I'm pretty sure everybody heard that, Barbie before she refocuses on securing Scarecrow's remaining goons. Batgirl drops down beside her, having returned from securing the fear gas shipment. Her hands curl and straighten in ASL.

Heard. Scream. Sad, she gestures to her comm.

"No kidding. It's like somebody blew an Aztec death whistle, assuming you're on fear gas and recently took shrooms." Spoiler claps her hands together, brushing off imaginary dust, and pulls a Wonder-Woman stance. "Back to the Cave or Batburger?"

More hissing, spitting crackles in her comm. Spoiler looks expectantly at Batgirl, wondering if she got the garbled command. Batgirl grins, full face mask pinching slightly at the lips, and she shrugs. The next 45 minutes are spent on the roof of Batburger - two Batburgers, extra Jokerized fries, and night-nuggets dipped in honey barbeque sauce. Casper stays with them, if the sensation of cold humidity over their shoulder says anything. Spoiler talks, sometimes repeating Batgirl's ASL aloud so Casper knows what she's saying, and stuffs her face with greasy food. 10/10 patrol food even if she knows she's going to have a stomach ache come the morning. If a couple of her night-nuggets disappear, neither she or Batgirl say a word.

They make their way back to the Cave, the sensation of cold humidity slowly evaporating the further away they get. The Cave is quiet when they get there; Batman, Red Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing are already changed into their civilian clothes and hair damp from post-patrol showers. They're all squished up against the Batcomputer (aside from Jason, who's lounging on the only comfortable settee. Steph kicks it as she walks by, rousing Jason with a complaining grumble).

Report: Entity is invisible, but refractions of light and temperature fluctuation can cause a brief afterimage in the mask sensors. Abilities include invisibility to the visible light spectrum, assumed intangibility, "death whistle", and flight. Thin and tall, consistent with a 15-16 year old male. Behavior currently non-hostile, non-sedentary, does not attempt communication, displays interest during moments of activity, possibly providing assistance. Prone to leaving if target is inactive for periods of time. Primary objective observation only.

"Ice," Cass comments, recalling the moment several goons "slipped" while trying to load an ammunition shipment. What looked to be ice melted moments later, leaving only damp wood.

but fails to consider that ice is. so slippery.

He's outlawed new deals since a lot of the time the validly of the sacrifice can be questioned. The observant s are annoyed at babysitters duty but it gets them out of annoying Danny and lets him be productive so he plans on milking it for as long as there are deals under review. Just like with the one Pariah claimed, a lot of them are undergoing investigations and that's where Janet's deal comes in.

Tim like many other firstborns are watched over. Anytime they are in danger, the observant responsible invokes Danny or his claim to protect them from the shadows. On occasion, they might have been relocated but never has Danny collected on any of those deals until Tim.

Tim unlike the other firstborns is a hero. Tim is also aware something is watching him as he will make comments for Danny or thank him for a save nobody else noticed and Danny is instantly smitten. Danny watches as Tim does so much good for Gotham both as a civilian and as a hero. Even when he is taken for granted, it doesn't slow Tim down and Danny admires him more.

Danny knows Tim has massive potential, and he trusts him to understand the gravity of how far his influence runs. He had no doubt in Tim when he was trying to clone his lost friends. Danny understood was part of his grieving process and everyone grieves differently. Did he also swoon a bit? Nobody witnessed it so it didn't happen (but his friend do tease him about it since they were aware of his crush)

It becomes the last straw for Danny when Nightwing acting as Batman turns everyone against Tim. He reminds himself everyone copes differently for all of one minute before saying man fuck that guy and sends a sticky note to Tim. On that sticky note he offers his help and protection, but it can't be revoked once accepted.

It's the first time he has 'shown' himself outside of the assists he's made, and it feels like agony as he watches Tim. Eventually Tim does take up his offer and while Danny fell first Tim fell harder. Bruce is the second person Danny saves that day and the moment Tim realizes it he is extra cuddly with Danny.

Carolina Milanesi, an independent technology analyst, said Google is trying to make its cash cow business — search — richer and more personalized, and it will make shopping easier. But there is a risk that users may have fewer choices about what to click. "Right now it's: I ask a question, I get a bunch of answers and I feel that I'm in control as to which answer I take, or if I'm looking for something, which product I'm going to end up buying. That is going to be less so going forward," she said. Milanesi envisions AI-enabled search and agents proposing products to consumers — perhaps even those they have requested — but with less clarity or choice around where it's coming from. "If you're going to say: 'I want a pair of Jordans, go find them,' you're not necessarily sure what steps have been taken and whether the AI has used a source or a store that was paid for and therefore came up in the search results," she said, "or if AI actually went and did their due diligence and picked the best for me as a customer."

And here's one from Time magazine (May 20, 2026):

While Google already has “AI Mode,” the company will now power the whole search bar through its new Gemini 3.5 Flash model.  Instead of the classic list of blue links, Google Search will now also generate a custom page with an AI-generated summary of what you’re searching about, which will then trigger a conversation with AI Mode on the main page, allowing users to ask follow-up questions—similar to the kind of layout you would see when opening ChatGPT.

And a little more from Time's article on how this may affect the websites that we are trying to search for:

Danny only took with him the Fenton-MP3 because it had a mix of his, Tucker's, and Sam's favorite songs, and its a nice momento for when he misses them. Since Danny doesn't want a human persona right away, and can't really make one anyway, he sticks to being Phantom as he checks the place out. He eventually gets noticed by the Justice League, they make contact, and after the usual questioning and paranoia, Phantom is a JL member and is living in Mount Justice until he decides he wants a human persona. To keep balance he stays in his living form when no one else is around, but the JL don't know he can do that yet so he keeps it on the DL.

Anyway, one day Phantom is missing his freinds a lot, and puts in some headphones to listen to their Playlist, and hes singing along while doing whatever it was he needed do[mission report, organizing the library, cooking?]

Now this can go one of two ways depending on what song: Angsty, or Hilarious.

Maybe its a sad or melancholy song like [I Wouldn't Mind] or [Something Just Like This] or [Lost Boy].

Or maybe its a more wild song that just paints a very 'colorful' life for Phantom from "when he was alive", like [Exs and Ohs] or [Guys Don't Like Me].

Danny Fenton stopped screaming sometime between the sirens and the smoke.

Nasty Burger burned down to its foundations in less than ten minutes. The official reports called it a gas leak. The unofficial ones—whispered by EMTs and police who’d seen green fire crawl up the walls—never made it to paper.

Jazz, Jack, and Maddie Fenton were gone. Sam. Tucker.

Mr.Lancer.

Everyone who had ever known Danny as Danny died in that booth with the cracked vinyl seats and the flickering menu board.

Danny didn’t cry at the funeral. Didn’t scream. Didn’t even shake.

He smiled.

Vlad Masters took him in with the practiced sympathy of a man who had waited years for this exact tragedy. Soft words. Silk sheets. Promises of family and guidance and becoming what you were meant to be.

Danny knew how that future ended. Dan was trapped in a thermos locked away in the time keepers' tower.

He’d seen it in Vlad’s eyes—control disguised as love, possession dressed up as mentorship. A gilded cage with ghost-proof bars.

So Danny did the only thing his grief-ravaged mind could come up with.

He broke.

Not in the loud way. Not rage, not tears.

Something inside him simply… slipped its leash.

He laughed at nothing. Stared through walls. Spoke in flat, empty tones before exploding into sudden, bone-breaking violence. He phased through doors just to slam them behind him. He shattered lab equipment with careless flicks of glowing fingers. When Vlad tried to restrain him, Danny turned the tables and had Vlad strapped down in the same way he had done to Danny so many times.

Danny smiled wide and cold and asked, very politely, how Vlad enjoyed being powerless. He finally had Danny, wasn't it everything he ever wanted? Vlad trembled, and Danny's smile grew wider and sharper as he tasted the fear rolling off of the older Halfa.

Vlad lasted three weeks.

Three weeks of sleepless nights. Three weeks of reinforced walls and emergency protocols. Three weeks of realizing that the boy he’d wanted as a son was now a hollow, unpredictable thing wearing Danny Fenton’s face.

The paperwork was signed with shaking hands.

Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Best psychiatric facility in the country.

Vlad didn’t visit after that.

The cell door clanged shut with a final, echoing boom.

Danny sat on the bed, wrists cuffed in glowing dampeners, and grinned.

Sure, Arkham was basically a prison. Concrete walls, barred doors, guards who watched like hawks. But it wasn’t Vlad’s house. It wasn’t full of expectations and manipulation and that suffocating mine feeling.

And honestly?

Arkham wasn’t that bad.

The food was incredible compared to whatever his parents used to burn. He could sleep as long as he wanted without alarms or experiments. No one expected him to be anything at all.

And the people?

Oh, the people were interesting.

Harley Quinn brought him pudding cups and talked nonstop, like silence physically hurt her. Pamela Isley—Dr. Ivy—spoke softly about plants and decay and rebirth, and never once looked at him like he was broken beyond repair. They didn’t flinch when his eyes glowed. Didn’t demand explanations.

They just… accepted.

With his powers, Danny could leave whenever he wanted. Phase through walls. Slip past guards. Vanish into the night.

He just didn’t feel like it.

Peace was a locked door and a scheduled routine. Peace was no one expecting him to care.

The only annoyance was Batman.

He showed up like clockwork—looming shadows, gravel voice, cape like a threat.

“You don’t belong here,” Batman said during their first meeting. “You’re a victim.”

Danny floated upside down, feet hooked through the bed frame, grinning at him. “No thanks. I’m good.”

“You could have a better life.”

Danny’s smile sharpened. “Tried that. Didn’t like the ending.”

Batman came back again. And again. With therapists, with offers, with plans and contingencies and hope Danny didn’t want.

Each time, Danny refused.

Because Arkham was quiet. Predictable. Safe in its own twisted way.

And Danny Fenton—Danny Phantom—was just fine right where he was.

At least until he turned eighteen.

After that?

Well.

Krypton was the first planet Phantom ever created. He had so much fun, and since it was his first, he put so much care into it. He cried when the first signs of life took form- but after creating the planet, Phantom could no longer directly interfere, he could only watch.

So like a long time ago I had a professor that I absolutely adored. She happened to be Japanese American. She grew up speaking Japanese at home but never really spent a lot of time in Japan. She mostly spoke with other Japanese Americans and read books.

So one day early in her teaching career there’s an exchange student from Japan who’s having a hard time understanding a concept so she explained it to him in Japanese and then he looked absolutely rattled. Like in shock. Pale.

This is how she learned that the way she speaks Japanese makes her sound like a gang member.

Original Post

Word count- 983

It started with a few strange moments in the sky. A light that streaked across the night in a bright arch. Like a shooting star.

Many tried to photograph this phenomenon but only resulted the fuzzy images.

The investigation bared fruit eventually as in the space between the moon and earth a boy was bound. A pale boy this green flushed cheeks and spatterings of glowing freckles swam though the dark. His hair a snowy white like soft fox fur. In his hand he eagerly clutched a green light that peeked through the gapes between his fingers.

You would not believe it but as he let it go the light sparked to life and burned bright for only a few seconds before burning away. His disappointment was clear but he shrugged it off and flew elsewhere.

The Watchtower's telescope was able to capture the moment only by coincidence because the boy's heat signature was absent. Not cold, just no heat.

This "Starboy" (they didn't name him that) began appearing in various places on earth. Not as a flying light but as a explorer it seemed. He walked the streets carelessly and flew from rooftop to rooftop. The wanderer gained notoriety as people became obsessed with his alien appearance. He never talked to anyone, he just smiled and waved before taking off again.

An unknown alien child was cause for concern for the League. It could be a Superman situation, where he had been raised on Earth or it could be a Starfire situation, where he had come here on his own. Both possibilities were better than the alternative: that he had come to destroy the planet.

His behavior was not that of a world-destroyer, at least not to Kori.

Starboy definitely had power. She had just watched him use the energy of a star—a starbolt, just like hers.

Starboy definitely had power. She had just watched him use the every of a star. A starbolt, just like her's. She had to meet him.

Koriand’r did not wait for permission.

The moment he rose again into the sky, she followed.

At first, she kept her distance, studying him the way one might approach a frightened creature. One moment he drifted lazily above the clouds, the next he vanished in a streak of light that tore across the sky.

Koriand’r smiled.

Then she gave chase.

The air screamed as she broke through it, her body igniting with familiar heat. A blazing orange trail followed in her wake, bright and burning like a piece of the sun itself. Ahead of her, his light—bright, green-tinted white, shimmered as it cut through the dark.

Faster.

She pushed harder, the world below dissolving into blur and color. Oceans, cities, clouds, they all melded together.

For a moment, she thought she might lose him.

Then—

He slowed.

Not by much, just enough.

Enough for her to see the tilt of his head as he glanced back.

He had noticed.

Koriand’r surged forward, closing the distance until she flew beside him. For a brief, impossible second, they matched pace, two streaks of light racing across the curve of the Earth.

He laughed.

It was bright. Clear. Surprised.

And then he darted forward again.

A challenge.

Koriand’r’s eyes lit with delight.

“Oh, you wish to race?” she called, though she did not know if he could hear her over the roar of their passage. “Very well!”

She lunged after him, faster still, her flames flaring brighter as she gave everything to the chase. His trail twisted and curved unpredictably, weaving through the sky in playful arcs, never quite letting her catch him, yet never truly escaping either.

This was no pursuit.

It was a game.

And for the first time since she had seen him, Koriand’r understood.

He was not fleeing.

He was playing.

"From below, their race looked like twin shooting stars streaking across the sky before their arcs finally broke.

“Starboy” let out a laugh as he twisted and turned on a dime, forcing Starfire to give chase after the wily boy. He spiraled around her in tight, effortless loops before suddenly diving toward the sea below, only to shoot right back up again in a burst of light.

The moon illuminated his opaline form as Koriand’r lunged forward and tackled him.

They tumbled together through the air, spinning for a brief, dizzying moment before she caught herself, hovering as she held onto him.

This joy.

She had missed it.

It was like she was back on Tamaran, where her people lived unrestrained, where laughter rang freely and brightly through the air.

For a moment, she simply looked at him.

Up close, he was even more unusual. The soft glow of his freckles pulsed faintly, like distant stars, and that strange green-white light flickered beneath his skin as if something inside him radiated from deep within.

He did not struggle.

Instead, he grinned at her.

“You are pretty fast, lady,” he said, laughter still lingering in his voice as the Tamaranean held him beneath his arms.

Koriand’r beamed at him, her bright eyes alight with delight. “And you are very difficult to catch,” she replied, her grip firm but not unkind. “I have never raced one such as you before.”

He didn’t seem bothered by being held, if anything, he kicked his legs idly.

“You almost had me,” he added, grinning up at her. The glowing freckles across his cheeks shimmered faintly in the moonlight. “Almost.”

Koriand’r laughed, the sound warm and full. “Then you must allow me to try again.”

His eyes lit up at that. So bright, curious, and full of mischief.

“Maybe,” he said, drawing the word out as the light gathered again between his fingers. “But you’ll have to keep up this time.”