With her black hair a mess of bangs and a long, slim ponytail, she's a sight for sure, but Jo doesn't doubt the clench of her jaw when she scowls. Runaways that make it this far never make it by luck alone. (Dani at the Roadhouse shortfic)

Phantom's got a bad habit of treating her like a joke, like she's a welcome distraction from trashing the city with all the other ghosts. Not this time. This time, she's gonna make sure he knows how serious she is.

"Haven't you heard, boy? There's more than one way to skin a cat. Or, as the case may be, more than one way to control a ghost!" Freakshow brays laughter again, and Danny wants more than anything to punch the man right in his yellow teeth but he can't move so much as a finger.

Did he mishear? Harry must have misheard, because he could have sworn he'd just heard the anthropomorphic personification of the inevitable cessation of all life just say something completely mental.

Danny though, Danny was as average as anybody. He was nice (if a bit snarky), clever (if a bit naive), and once puberty stopped stretching him like a rubber band he might even be handsome one day. But then, not even halfway through his first semester at Casper High, Danny Fenton changed.

Tucker asks, "Dude, you sure you ok?" Danny's right hand twists. His fingers drag, drag, drag across his palm. "Yeah," he says, "Of course I am. Why?"

"The King is dead," he says, "Long live the King." (A future battle with Pariah Dark ends in what may best be called a Pyrrhic victory.)

All your interests, your knowledge, your mannerisms, and even your name are copied from Danny. Cloned from Danny. It isn't fair. You have your own thoughts, your own will. You've explored and learned and made choices (you don't think?) Danny would have made if he'd been in your shoes. But the basis of you, the core of you, stems from a boy Vlad coveted. And he never told you why.

For once it isn't Apocalypse zombies or demons looking for some fun or any of the other hundred types of monsters that have come out to play since it all went to crap. This time, it's humans. (TUE/End!verse mashup, Chuck-centric, Valerie/Dean hinted at.)

The stranger stops, facing him directly. His expression is calculating, clinical. "So tell me, Vlad Masters, just what manner of creature are you?"