#Phantom shows up and starts beating them up a second time
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There's the ghost of a child playing above Bludhaven
He's a short little thing, who glows and waves around a little sword. Sometimes he has a ship, sometimes he doesn't.
The kid keeps saying that it only fits that Bludhaven be his haunt, because it has "blud" in it and his name is "Youngblood".
Also he has declared Nightwing to be his nemesis.
Nightwing loves it; he gets to have at least one day a week that's just goofing off with a kid who can't be hurt by any of his regular villains. Their "fights" are more like play dates, if he's being honest, and Youngblood is a good kid.
Sometimes he's swinging from the sails of the kids ghost ship, dodging "ecto blasts", other times he's "teaming up" with Youngblood and "sword fights" another spectral Hero, called Phantom.
Generally, they all have a good time.
Until one day, he stumbles across some men in white suits actually managing to hurt the ghost child.
That day, the GIW learns that the most violent Robin wasn't the second one, but the first.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#i use all four tags cuz some people tag differently#may as well cover my bases#dick is youngblood's babysitter essentially#after dick gets done beating the GIW up#Phantom shows up and starts beating them up a second time#story prompt
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I'm crying laughing, the DVDs are even worse than I remember... Season 1's menus are silent with a single static jpg of the same key character art they use for everything else, and the episodes on the Season 2 discs don't even match what's listed on the box! Absolutely stunning lack of shits given. Truly unparalleled. But I really shouldn't be surprised given... well... everything about how this series has been treated since the very beginning.
Time for a quick ~✨PHANDOM HISTORY LESSON✨~ to give newer/less hyperfixated folks more context for why the graphic novel being as great as it is is such a HUGE deal:
Danny Phantom was one of Nickelodeon's MAIN cartoons, in its time. It was a central pillar. One of the top three or four of their lineup, which is saying something when the competition includes the cultural juggernaut that is Spongebob.
Despite this, and despite its superhero theming making it perfectly marketable, it got basically ZERO official merch.
What little we did get was often ugly and very, very cheap. The dedication at the start of the graphic novel that jokes about collecting the Burger King toys? That's because it was some of the most notable merch the franchise EVER had. (I sadly do not have any of it. There was no BK in my hometown. Here's a pic from the internet, though, to give you an idea.)
If you think I'm exaggerating about that being the most significant physical merch to come out of the series, consider that the first video game had an entire menu option specifically for the Burger King promotional tie-in:
That video game, by the way, was one of only two ever based on the show. The first was an adaptation of "The Ultimate Enemy" in the style of a short sidescrolling beat-em-up, and the second was themed around "Urban Jungle" and (as far as I can tell--I've only played the first couple levels) was an arcade-style scrolling shooter. Both were for the Gameboy Advance, and both are...... fine, as far as cash-grabby video game tie-ins to kids' shows go. This was pretty normal for the time, so I suppose we did okay in that department, actually. They're not GOOD, but they're playable and have at least a bit of effort put into them.
But besides those two video games (plus a handful of simple, long-defunct Flash games on nick.com)? In the decade and a half since the show ended?
Nothing.
No books, no games, no comics, no web shorts--unless you count mega-crossovers with every other Nicktoon (a la Nicktoons Unite), or soulless promotional material like "Fairly Odd Phantom" (which, trust me, despite being the first new DP animation in over 10 years was not even worth the effort of watching).
...I think there was a limited edition FunkoPop once?
So yeah.
A Glitch in Time is not just the first cool, well-made thing we've seen from the franchise in a while. It's the first THING we've seen since the show. PERIOD. And arguably the first worthwhile supplementary material to EVER come out of the show, depending on how you feel about those GBA games and the Nicktoons crossovers.
This franchise is widely beloved even now, almost 20 years after it first aired, and it feels like that fact is now, finally, FINALLY getting some official recognition.
PLEASE read A Glitch in Time. Tell other people about it. The series--no, the fans--deserve this (and more of this, if the folks in charge see enough of a response and decide to grace us with any followup). It's LONG overdue, but better late than never.
#Danny Phantom#this is why I've been losing my mind repeating ''please buy it'' over and over btw#this is the FIRST and maybe ONLY time we'll ever get to directly show support for the series#it is a uniquely huge deal for this fandom#it's totally fine if you can't (or just still won't) buy it of course but I am begging folks to consider it IF they can.#not for any moral guilting or anything just.... for me. for the fandom. (for yourself because it's a cool story lmao)#long post
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I flew back into the cave with my backpack and stepped out of a shadow, it made Robin flinch and that was worth it “Don’t be sad B, you’re nearly as good as him and you don’t have powers.” Red Hood said
“Do you eat human food?” Nightwing asked
“I can.” I said, Nightwing considered that and I realised it might look like I take blood just because I can. “We’ll let me show you to your room,” Nightwing started walking so I followed him.
-
“I know you hate magic users but he’s definitely something supernatural.” I said
“I know.” B grumbled
“He easily followed Dick and Dick clearly was not going easy on him.” Damian said
“Besides.” Tim cut it “He has that walk, like what he’s doing is too slow for him and there would be an easier way to do this, like with Superman and Clark Kent?”
“How long do you think he’s been alive?” I asked, “You know, if he’s a vampire?”
“Old as heck, he was experienced enough to know B wasn’t a vampire and he’s seen Demons.” Tim said
“That is ridiculous.” Damian scoffed
“Murder child is right, demons are rare and living after you’ve seen one is pretty much zero. Their like ghosts but way more common!” I said
“What if he’s not a vampire?” B asked. Silence.
“He was drinking blood.” I said
“And did you see the way he looked in the first few seconds?” Damian asked
“He is better and phasing from shadow to shadow than you! Better at the night than the Batman!” Tim said, B seemed to sulk a little more and I smiled behind my mask “He switched sides of the room without being seen by us!”
“That would take either years of practice- as in hundreds of years or powers. He probably has both.” Damian said
“Just considering all possibilities.” B replied
-
“Thank you!” I said. Nightwing closed the door and I fell down onto the bed in a belly flop, I changed back to my human form then switched back in a few seconds, now that I could do it for ages and even keep it up while knocked out I figured I should. Gotham was a dangerous city (seriously, both new and old ghosts keep coming to me and I have to let them use me to get to the ghost zone) and I should have my powers ready, also I have a whole vampire thing to keep up now.
What else do vampires do? Vlad certainly looks like one, in ghost form at least, that thought made me sigh. Vampires were hated and distrusted but not hunted down on sight like ghosts were, somehow I doubted Gotham would be any different. Besides even if ghosts were kept safe what would people think about a halfa? I was sent here to live not worry! I can’t wait until I can see Sam and Tucker though, oh well. I yawned, you’d think being a halfa meant needing less sleep because ghosts have this weird relatioinship with sleep, but in reality it just meant I got twice as tired because I use both human and ghost things almost constantly.
-
I drank from my thermos and sat on a high outcropping, I watched as a motor cycle roared in and a delicious Red Hood stumbled off. I wasn’t going to go close when I realised the smell was stronger and his eyes were glowing green. He had too much ecto in his system for a human!
I flew down quickly but Jason jumped me, I held him down and bit his neck cleaning his blood from the ecto. Jason thrashed in my grip then calmed down. I know personally that big changes in ecto levels can have effects so I stopped drinking, this was a slowly take more each time kinda thing.
“P-Phantom?” Jason asked, he slumped down and any human would’ve had trouble carrying him. “The pit rage.” Jason said, I’m going to look into this pit
“Don’t worry, you need rest, ecto- pit stuff can be dangerous.” I said, I cleaned the last ecto off my teeth and Red Robin and Nightwing came running
“Jaso- Did You Bite Him!?” Red Robin yelled
“… no.” I said, Nightwing gave me a look and I remembered the news report about which robins were the most violent, the one which showed him beating up some super villain, and handed him his brother.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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Noticed But Hoping For The Best Part 2
Tucker is the second person to notice something was 'off'. Not quite 'wrong', they weren't at that level yet, but things certainly weren't the same. Things had been surprisingly quiet recently- not that anyone mentioned it, they always jinxed it if they did so- so the classic trio of friends could spend time together! They were even trying normal hobbies, at the insistence of Jazz. Well, hah, he knew coding and that was normal!- But apparently it was too connected to 'work' so he had to split his time between that and a 'normal' hobbie.
Sam was planning on showing them sewing- it was a lot harder to get clothes in her style than either him or Danny realized- but apparently there was some social event she was being forced to attend, so the plans were put on pause. That led to Tucker ending up at the Fenton household to spend time with Danny, teaching him at least a bit of coding before Jazz forced them to do something different.
This was when he first noticed something was 'off' with Danny. They used to play online games together, and he knew his best friend to have quick reaction times and almost never fat finger the keys, but apparently things had changed in the- what, month or so?- since he became Phantom. Randomly pressing the spacebar, forgetting to hold shift or tapping shift or caps lock at the wrong times, pressing multiple keys at the same time or accidentally pressing a key around the intended target. The two laughed at it, joking that he was more suited for fighting instead of typing now, though Tucker didn't fail to noticed that something was on Danny's mind afterwards.
The true realization came when they were playing video games. Things were going well, they were joking, but Danny kept dying in odd ways. He occasionally pressed random buttons, his triggers would randomly be moved and send his character off-course, or once again it was a button next to the one that was targeted being pressed.
After they reached a gameover screen, Tucker nudged his friend, trying to make a joke of it. "The golden boy of gaming has fallen! Glad to see I actually have a chance if we go PvP this time, I could only ever beat you on PC!" Danny always chuckled, but there was an underlying of something else... It was rare to see the other have subtle emotions, but Tucker was surprised to see his friend was genuinely frustrated! "Yeah, my hands haven't really been on my side for a bit. Me and Jazz think I just need to actually sleep for once, maybe I caught some kind of bug to make my mind foggy. Give me a few days of rest and I'll be back to my winning streak!"
Tucker was silent for a split second- Danny never admitted he was tired at all since starting being Phantom, even if he and Sam had noticed it- before grinning. "By the time that happens I'll have grown to match you, good luck getting a win over me!"
Tucker Foley hadn't seen a reason for actual concern, there was simply something a bit off with his friend, something that was easily fixable. It was easy to wait and hope for the best!
Previous Next
#danny phantom#danny fenton#tucker foley#writing because the brain worms won't leave me alone#Feel free to take this idea and write more with it :)#dp#phanfiction#phanfic#I'm still figuring out personalities so if I ever write more DP content there's a good chance characterization will change#disabled danny#It's only slight for now but it's going to get worse#Noticed But Hoping For The Best
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I've been off sick from work 😷 so here's some fluff
Synopsis: In sickness and health, you'll always take care of her
In sickness and in...
"Hey jagiya, are you nearly ready? I'm on my way."
A sneeze made you flinch before a hoarse voice answered.
"Y/n. I'm going to have to take a raincheck. I'm sorry.
"Don't apologise, mi amor. I'll be there.
"Baby - "
"I know, but I want to look after you. See you soon, I love you."
"I love you too."
-x-
Jeongyeon had fallen asleep by the time you arrived, so you decided to make soup with the groceries you brought.
The food was ready when you felt arms snake around your waist. She looked exhausted and feverish.
"Do I look that bad?" She teased when you frowned in concern.
"No. You're still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. How are you feeling?"
"Sick." You immediately gave her water when she started coughing.
"Come on, I made you something."
-×-
It took hardly any coaxing for her to eat and take medicine.
But she protested when you tried to snuggle close to her.
"Why not?"
"Because you'll get sick too!"
"I don't care."
You knew you won when she sighed.
She continued to grumble as she laid her head on your chest.
"You're so stubborn."
"No, I'm not. I'm just a simple human who is deeply in love with my girlfriend and wants cuddles with her."
You could feel her smile more than you could see it.
"Cheesy woman."
"Only for you."
-x-
Jeongyeon opened her eyes sometime later after you both fell asleep. The couch was only comfortable for so long, and she felt it in her shoulders. She could only imagine how sore your body was going to be.
Facing you properly, she took the time to just look at you. She loved seeing you so peaceful. Her eyes wandered to your arms. More specifically, the scars scattered across them.
"I honestly don't know what I'd do if you weren't here." She whispered, as her fingers moved up your arm.
Jeongyeon borrowed your phone to check the time, when a new text showed up.
It's not like you to pass up on seeing Phantom of the Opera. You know the theatre only puts it on once a year. But alright, I'll give your tickets to someone else.
Her stomach dropped. She had forgotten the show was today.
-x-
You woke up abruptly, when you felt her scramble off you and ran to the bathroom. You went after her when you heard a familiar sound.
She knelt before the toilet as you held her hair back.
Thankfully, you had water and her favourite gum at the ready.
"Why didn't you remind me?" She asked, once she sat back.
"What?"
"The show. You talked about it nonstop lately."
"You know I'd choose you over anything like that."
"I do, but it doesn't mean I don't feel guilty when you prioritise me over almost all else."
"Honey." You brushed her hair out of her eyes. "I put you first because I love you."
"But-"
"Shhh, it's okay. Besides in sickness and in health, right?" She giggled.
"Only if you're married."
"Well, the principle should still apply to unmarried couples, especially if the love and trust runs deep and is mutual. Although being married to you doesn't sound too bad."
The last part was said with so much conviction, for a moment, Jeongyeon thought it was a proposal of sorts. You managed to keep a straight face for five seconds before laughing.
"Yah y/n! Don't tease me like that."
She wouldn’t admit it, but the thought of marrying you someday gave her butterflies.
-x-
Nearly a week later, Jeongyeon was back to good health. She knocked, and the door opened to reveal you wrapped in a blanket, and behind you, tissues were lying around. She opened her mouth, but you beat her to it.
"I know, I know, no need to say it."
#twice jeongyeon#yoo jeongyeon#jeongyeon#twice x reader#jeongyeon x reader#twice imagines#jeongyeon imagines#twice fic
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I adored the new chapter I get the feeling that Dick fully approves of Danny as Jason's boyfriend. Like Saving Jason from a second death and helping him adjust to the powers that came with his revival gave him major brownie points in Dick's eyes. But being generally a good person and having a similar sense of humor to himself means that Dick will skip the shovel talk and get to teasing Jason about his crush.
I literally can't wait for Dick to see Jason in Ghost mode. I get the feeling that Dick even though Jason hasn't told him his new name yet is going to recognize him immediately. I get the feeling that the magical rings of transformation that halfa's have are both going to be a great source of teasing and Evny. Teasing because doesn't the phrase magical girl transformation sequence ring any bells? Envy because Jason can now go from civilian to hero in less than the second.
Dick definitely approves of Danny as boyfriend material for Jason. Yeah he kinda chewed him out, but that just means he'll protect Jason. And Dick gets a brother in law who will indulge him in a pun off so Dick can't really lose here. I can't wait for Dick to show up again, he's already a favorite of mine to write and I didn't expect that at all. I'm actually going to have a minor new subplot added to the story where we deal with some stuff that apparently was happening to Dick around the time Jason came back (someone unfortunately informed me of Canon events. I asked for it. I just didn't expect them to be so awful, the events not the person)
Dick, meeting Phantom and Red Hood for the first time: my brother senses are tingling
Phantom: hey Di-
Red Hood, shooting Danny to shut him up: The fuck you want here hero?
Dick: >.> yo Jason you can stop pretending. There's like 5 people in spandex with a body type like yours and I know none of them would willingly come to Gotham
Red Hood: Well shit.
Dick will have so much new material to tease Jason with. He'll just start playing random magical girl show openers everytime he sees him. Even in costume. The goons are really confused because now they're getting beat up while the Sailor Moon intro plays in the background and WHY DOES IT FIT?!
A treat for giving me interaction which fuels me
💚
"Mmm, time to play whack a clown," Dannt sung softly as he twirled the bat, rings of light covering him and shifting his form to a more comfortable one. Danny let invisibility wash over him as gravity ceased holding any command over his body.
Danny took to the air and flew off, heading unerringly in the direction of the Asylum, the feeling of fear and rage growing as he approached.
#xy answers#tkahrk au#tkahrk#the king and his red knight au#the king and his red knight#dead on main#DeadOnMain#Dick is ridiculously fun to write and I have no idea if hes OOC but that makes it more fun#i mean if anyone reads my fic expecting canon theyve ignored several blatant warnings that I dont know Canon#the bits of canon i do know I really wish I didnt#oh and if its not obvious part 15 has Danny gratuitiously beating the snot out of the Joker#he has justifications for it obv but it boils down to he just wanted to do it#the justifications is that hes not sure when Jason will be able to send him to the shadpw realm but Joker cant bust out of Arkham#if his kneecaps are shattered. so hes really just doing community service#feeding the HC that Danny is a feral boy who can and will hunt down the Joker with a bat to dispense justice#we should see Spirit Gotham in part 15 too which will be far more pleasant
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Survival Is A Talent: 2
Part 1.
Pairing: Gen. None.
Rating: Mature for difficult themes throughout.
Word Count: 6,733
Summary:
"Weakness was not something Phantom had ever been permitted to show back beneath the ground. His father, a tyrant leader of their pack, came down harshly on anyone who dared to show an ounce of discomfort or disdain. Male or female, grown or child; he was a brutal man with brutal ideals. But despite Phantom’s inept ability to hide his pain, he’d never felt quite like this before. Nor had he trembled quite as much as he had done since coming to the surface."
Or
Phantom, the new quintessence ghoul, is struggling to adapt to live on the surface. What started as surface sickness has quickly developed into quintessence burn out. And with a reluctance to ask for help, Phantom finds himself down a dark path. It's up to Papa, Aether and the pack to drag him back; kicking, screaming but alive.
In full on A03.
Life back at the ministry was more difficult than Phantom remembered. Between his summoning and tour, his days were filled with band practice and the occasional shift in the laundry room. He’d been so overwhelmed by a new life on the surface that his anxiety never caused anything more than a mild panic attack. He concealed them, hiding in alcoves and counting to ten. But coming off tour felt different. Phantom felt more alive and with this new awareness came a spike in emotions he didn’t understand, much less could control. Being on tour was nerve-racking, yes, but it was nothing to being back within the walls of the ministry.
They were thrown headfirst into a crowd of excited siblings welcoming them back, followed by no more than a night to settle back in before they were expected to pick up their chores. If anyone else felt overwhelmed, they didn’t show it. But Phantom felt his breathlessness creeping in the second they approached the ministry gates, and it grew steadily until he spent his first night home in ruins. Worst of all, Papa was several staircases away and the little ghoul didn’t much fancy trekking through the dark vastness of the hallways in the dead of night.
As the days moved on Phantom made several attempts to reach out, none of which were pressing and concerning. He kept his texts light as if testing the waters as to what their new relationship meant now that they were back on unholy soil. They talked intermittently about work and some of the TV shows Copia had introduced to the young ghoul. But it was clear that the clergyman was being pulled from pillar to post and replies became more infrequent and apologetic. The man was trying and Phantom knew it from the way they spoke on the phone or through text. It was even obvious in how Copia tried to approach him in the hallways. But he was almost always pulled away by a sibling or ministry official, seeking him out for some task or service.
Phantom became aware that if he was to survive and thrive in the ministry he needed to throw up a mask. Metaphorically speaking. Ghouls were not forced to wear their masks in the halls anymore. Not since Papa Terzo’s reform during his reign. And for that Phantom was grateful.
The young ghoul forced himself to join in on organised cuddle piles, nest building and meal times. There were nights when he would curl up next to his ghoul-kin by the grand open fire and watch as they indulged in their various hobbies. But as the darkness crept in he was ultimately alone. Swiss had Cumulus, Mountain preferred his solitude and the remainder happily fleeted between. But his door was always missed by Rain, Dew and the other ghoulettes, none offering to sleep beside him as they did with each other.
Phantom never had anyone except for Copia in those brief stolen moments on the bus. It was only as he lay alone and cold in his bed that he realised how much better he’d slept in the clergyman’s arms, listening to the rhythmic beat of his human heart and comforted by the heat of his body. His quarters were a far cry from that small, cosy bunk on the bus. The bed suddenly felt miles wide and the space around him was suffocating.
There was no one there for him. Not in the quiet of his room. Not in the laundry rooms where the rattling of the dryers was overwhelming and the sweet smell of soap made his head hurt.
Of course, he could just ask his ghoul-kin for comfort when the tendrils of breathlessness crept in. But he was much too embarrassed. He was a ghoul, a creature of the pit. There was nothing to be scared of and yet, there he was, defected by fear.
The other ghouls fit snuggly back into ministry life like they hadn’t been trapped together for six weeks on a cramped bus. They thought nothing of the vastness between them all, and the ability to simply be out in the open. Where Phantom was from space meant danger, and in the ministry, he felt exposed and alone in a wasteland of it.
Even with the vast emptiness between them, the silence was by far the worst. Something he had longed for in his worst moments on the bus was not what he had wanted at all. Phantom heard too much within the complete and utter silence. No snoring or the shuffle of other bodies. No purring or smothered moans of ghouls in lust. No. This silence was richer, more empty. This gave way to the eerie clanging of old pipework, the whistle of the wind; the thoughts in his head. They weren’t pleasant, they never were. They called him names and recounted every little thing he had ever done wrong. Over and over and over again until he was breathless and counting to ten.
~ ~ ~
Phantom had been stuck on laundry duty since his second week of summoning. He had no idea what laundry was but the clergy thought it a good place to put him regardless. Most Quinnissence ghouls ended up in the medical unit taking on various jobs within that role, jobs more suited to their elements. But Phantom had been such an ‘ emergency hire ’ that they hadn’t had much time to think about his job. They saw an opening and slotted him in hoping he’d fit.
It’s not that Phantom didn’t like the laundry. He got on with the siblings that worked there and it wasn’t exactly rocket science. But some of the sisters were overly chatty, the machines were too loud and the smells were overwhelming. More often than not he developed a throbbing headache by noon and went home stinking of generic detergent, and a bombardment of floral scents that just added to the pain behind his eyes.
Four weeks after returning home Phantom woke with a headache that simply wouldn’t budge. His sleep was perpetually broken, he was sore from hauling sheets through the cellar and his mood was dropping more and more as the days went on. Swiss had made a joke about it being his ‘ time of the month ’ over dinner the previous evening, but Phantom had brushed it off. He knew the multi-ghoul hadn’t meant it viciously but it still stung.
Were his wayward emotions becoming that obvious?
Worst of all, Phantom thought as he brushed his fangs, was the fact that he was due to go on duty with Sister Samira. He sighed around his toothbrush.
Sister Samira, a slender woman with a shrill voice and head full of mischief, was the loudest of siblings he worked with. While Phantom was fond of her on a good day there was nothing he wanted more than to run from her when he was feeling at his worst. When the mood struck him he was much better suited to the quiet company of Sister Greta or Brother Roe, neither of which pushed much for conversation. They were happy to work in relative silence, while Sister Samira felt the need to fill every inch of silence with conversation just for the sake of it.
With a groan of despair, Phantom pulled on his work clothes and went straight to the kitchen for his morning coffee. As he shuffled down the corridor he silently prepped himself for his ghoul kin. He could already hear the strident voice of Dew, followed by the baritone notes of Moutain’s laugh, both creating a mix of contradicting emotions blooming in his chest.
He loved his pack, he truly did, but with their company came questions and concerns, neither of which he had the energy to engage with. Fortunately for him, the gathering turned out to be small. Mountain manned the stove top, eggs bubbling on the griddle, while Dew and Cirrus crowded the island.
“Good morning Bug!” Cirrus chirped as Phantom stepped carefully into the tunskin spotlights.
He nodded in response, a small smile forced to the corners of his lips. Wordlessly he poured himself a cup of fresh coffee and came to stand next to the vivacious air ghoul. Dew continued his crusade, this time complaining about the siblings working alongside him in the kitchens. Phantom tried to listen, tried to make an effort to engage and laugh when appropriate, but his mind kept losing focus. There were glimpses of the conversation that would draw him back but he was largely planted in a far-off land, dreaming of a day when his soul would no longer feel like a shrivelled husk.
“Bug?”
The sound of his name brought Phantom crashing back to earth. He blinked several times, orbs dancing behind his eyelids, and shook through the haze.
Cirrus’ head was bowed, almost touching the table as they struggled to meet his gaze. From their troubled countenance Phantom could only assume he’d missed more than just the one queue.
“Bug, you in there?” They continued.
“Y-yeah. Sorry. It’s - um- it’s early.” The young ghoul answered, his voice more cheery than his insides felt.
Cirrus pursed their lips. Beside them, Dew exchanged interested glances with his earth counterpart.
“Are you sure little bug?” Mountain slung a dishcloth over his shoulder and leaned heavily on the worktop, “If you’re not feeling good you should head up to Aether.”
“No offence but I don’t wanna’ get what you’re carrying,” Dew remarked in a tone edging ever-so-slightly on patronising.
“Dew! Don’t be so nasty.” Cirrus scolded.
“I’m just sayin.’ If you’re sick, don’t spread it.” The fire ghoul scoffed.
“I can make some tea,” Mountain offered as he moved to his cupboard filled with loose leaves and herbal blends, “What ails you the most? Is it a headache? Brain fog? Maybe -”
“I’m fine, just drop it!!” Phantom snapped, his voice cracking in the middle and his nostrils flaring. With a sharp intake of breath, he struggled to stop his composure from dipping any further.
He was met with surprise, his ghoul kin’s eyes unblinking and, in the case of Dew, mouth hanging open. The young ghoul didn’t know where his sudden outburst had come from. As a placid beast, anger was never his first emotion. And yet it ripped through him and spewed outwards before he had the opportunity to stop it.
“Alright then,” Dew growled from behind his mug of coffee, “there’s no need to be so crabby.”
Phantom swallowed back the lump forming in his throat. He felt hot, heat starting at the tip of his tail and peaking at his scalp. He wanted nothing more than to bite again but the fire ghoul was much too quick and sharp with his comebacks. Instead, he downed the remainder of his coffee, the liquid scalding his tongue and burning as it slid its way down into his stomach.
“I-I have to go.” He whispered as he sidestepped Mountain who was still frozen by his cupboard of remedies, and dropped his mug into the sink, “S-sorry.”
He didn’t so much as turn to say goodbye, hellbent on leaving the quarters as soon as possible. No words from his ghoul-kin followed, instead left frozen on the tip of forked tongues, and for that Phantom was grateful. What else could possibly be said to take back the vicious way he’d spoken to them? And for what? Expressing concern?
As the door creaked shut behind him Phantom felt the heat of tears brimming in his eyes. He pushed onward, pulling the neck of his jacket up over his nose, and rushed towards the nearest haven. There was no way he could go to the laundry rooms like this, especially not with Sister Samira present. She would mother him too much and he feared he didn’t have the strength to hold his tongue. He made for the only other safe space he could think of; the basement bathrooms. No one else would be there this time of the morning, not even his colleagues in the laundry.
The walk did nothing for his perverse emotions. Around him, the ministry started to shutter into life and he ramped up his pace, afraid he might run into some of the other ghouls or siblings. The last thing he wanted was to be caught crying in the hallways.
Finally, he met the stairwell to the lower floors and, taking the steps in twos, he breathed a sigh of relief when he found the corridors silent, save for the static of the overhead lights. Phantom carefully approached the bathroom and listened intently for any sign of life within. Fortunately, the devils were shining upon him. There wasn’t a soul to be found.
He quickly shoved through the door and slid the solid lock in place before coming to rest against it. His heart thundered in his chest, the rhythm rattling against his ribcage causing his breath to catch in his throat. There it was again; the breathlessness. So intense this time that it brought Phantom to the floor, his arms wrapped around himself and body rocking forwards and back, like a pendulum.
He tried desperately to engage in active breathing. Slow. In and out. But it wasn’t working. If anything the sweat was building across his body, prompting him to tear at his coat until it was discarded on the floor in front of him.
Get it together!
Phantom bit down hard on his lip, feeling it pop beneath the pressure of his fangs. He didn’t even wince, instead, he brought his fists to card through his hair as he tried to chase the stars from his vision.
Everything around him flashed in and out of focus. First distorted by tears and then by his wavering breaths. His chest felt like it was trapped within a vice, doing everything it could to wring the oxygen from his blood.
This is how I die, isn’t it? Alone on the floor of a grubby bathroom drenched in my own tears?
He pulled his body inwards, claws digging graves into his biceps and knees shaking beneath his chin. Sobs wracked through him.
Phantom didn’t know how long he sat there, wrapped up in his chaos and grievance. Voices came and went along the corridor beyond, footsteps shuffling as siblings and ghouls went about their workday. And he gradually became aware (but only vaguely concerned) that he too should be hauling sheets and mixing detergents. Guilt joined his fluster of blended emotions and he couldn’t help but berate himself for letting his colleagues down.
Again.
Because this wasn’t the first time he was rendered useless by these feelings. It wasn’t the first time he had crawled into an alcove or hidden in the bathroom as his body was taken over by a sense of impending doom. And, of course, he knew it wouldn’t be the last.
Eventually, some hours after, his heart began to still. The chains around his chest loosened and all that was left behind was the dull ache of tension throughout his body. Pain bloomed across his skull and his eyes felt like sandpaper. A telltale sign of a morning spent in misery.
On quivering legs, Phantom rose to his feet and staggered across the floor towards the sink. He glared through the scratches and watermarks at his own sullen face, his cheeks red with valleys of tears and blood spotting his lips.
Through all the feelings, both physical and mental, most of all Phantom was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into the arms of Papa and sleep for an eternity. A sense of yearning appeared, so strong it broke through to the surface. This was a big enough reason to seek him out, right? It wasn’t just some anxiety and feeling unwell, this had been an honest-to-gods attack.
He splashed water across his face, rubbing circles beneath his eyes and teasing his fingers through his hair. The coolness brought him further back to solid ground.
There was no sense in dancing around it anymore. Papa had insisted that he reach out when things were getting tough. The man had made several attempts, as had Phantom, to correspond. Yet each had been interrupted by the clergy’s ever-incessant need to keep Copia busy. Sure it was three o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon, but Phantom needed help. And by Satan, he was done pretending that he didn’t.
~ ~ ~
In the dimly lit hallway leading to the clergy offices, Phantom clutched at his chest as he moved along the walls. His breath felt as if it were catching in his throat, coming in short increments as the weight of anxiety weighed down on him like an anvil. The air around him seemed thinner than it had been in the depths of the basement and every heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears.
The bravado that had driven Phantom towards Copia’s office was dwindling with each step. But he was desperate for relief and had come too far to allow his guilt and shame to win. Yet, his legs trembled beneath him like jelly and his mind screamed profanities, words he didn’t want to hear but had no strength to stop.
Finally, he stopped outside an ornate, deep mahogany door. The lettering on its golden plate read ‘Papa Emeritus IV’ . The young ghoul took a deep, shuttering breath, his eyes shutting briefly, before wrapping his knuckles against the wood. There was the shuffling of papers and muttering of voices from within, followed by movement.
“Un momento per favoure.” Came a melodic voice from within.
Phantom took a step back, a hand still grasping at his shirt, as the door was pulled inwards. Copia stared back at him, brows rising upwards as their eyes met.
“Ah, Phantom.” He said before turning his head to address those in the room, “I will be just a moment. I trust you can talk amongst yourselves, si ?”
Without waiting for a response he stepped out into the hallway, clicking the door shut behind him. Phantom, visibly shaking and out of breath, leaned heavily against the window behind him, holding the sill for better support.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to interrupt you.” The ghoul stuttered, his voice somewhat strangled.
“Please do not be sorry, Quin.” Copia gently placed a hand on Phantom’s shoulder, “What is going on? You look - I hope you do not mind me saying - terrible!”
“Y-You’re busy. I-”
“Phantom, mio diavolo , I have a moment for you. Please talk to me.”
Between ragged breaths, Phantom began recounting the overwhelming wave of panic that had engulfed and left him desperate for solace. The plea for help hung in the air between them as the ghoul slowly lost all momentum, his mind taking over and shutting down word by word. Guilt swirled in his gut, made worse by the knot in Copia’s brow and the remainder of company beyond the door.
He was a busy Papa for Satan’s sake. What made Phantom think he had time for him?
“But it’s - it’s fine. I-I s-should go. I really don’t know what brought me here.”
Phantom struggled,”I-I’m alright.”
“Are you though?” Copia questioned.
Before Phantom could respond the door to Copia’s office began to open behind him. The clergyman quickly turned on his heel to hinder the interruption. Phantom couldn’t see who he was speaking to, all he could hear was an exchange of Italian between the two, but he knew it was urgent. When Copia finally returned to him, the office securely shut again to give them some level of privacy, his lips were pulled into a tight frown.
“I am so sorry, Quin. I want to be here for you, believe me, I do, but the clergy are relentless in their tasks,” he explained, his voice filled with genuine regret.
Phantom’s desperation deepened and he fought back tears, feeling a pang of disappointment at the inability to find relief. But he bit at his bottom lip, determined to accept his rejection with at least some resemblance of dignity.
“Please accept my deepest apologies. I do not intend to do this, believe me, but I need to finish this meeting with Brother Gabriel and Papa Secundo. You understand, si ? I promise I will call you later.”
“O-okay.” Phantom whispered, taking several deep and shaky breaths.
“We will speak later this evening. In the meantime keep breathing deeply, and practice what we talked about back on tour, si ?”
Silence stretched thin between them as Phantom fought to find the words to respond. His heart felt heavy in his chest, stomach wrought tight with festering shame and anger. Yet, he understood the obligations life as Papa held. Phantom was not his only priority and he was selfish for ever thinking any different.
"O-okay, I'll-I’ll try," he finally whispered, taking shaky breaths as he continued to lean against the cool glass.
“Will you be alright until then? Do you need me to call one of your pack to walk you back to the den?”
Phantom shook his head, careful to avert his eyes for fear that the clergyman would see his tears. The last thing he wanted was any of his ghoul-kin to see him like this, defeated and rejected outside their Papa’s door.
“Quin,” Copia reached for Phantom’s hand but the ghoul moved away, his body shuttering backwards. A flash of surprise flooded the clergyman’s countenance but only for a moment, “We will talk this evening. Please be safe until then. Promise me?”
But the ghoul didn’t respond, he simply nodded over and over until he resembled a novelty ornament. His body continued to back away as Copia stood, hands helplessly in the air as if he wanted nothing more than to reach for him.
“Phantom…”
The little ghoul turned on his heel and bolted from the hallway. He ignored the shouts from Papa and pushed through the pain blazing in his chest, his thoughts consumed with hiding. He had made a fool of himself and as he ran, brickwork and bodies blurring around him, it was all he could do to keep himself from falling apart.
Not now. Not until you’re safe beyond the door of your nest. The shame he felt was heavy enough. He didn’t need the pack or, Satan forbid, strangers seeing him for the pitiful wretch he truly was.
Eventually Phantom found himself at the entrance to the ghoul wing and it occurred to him that while his bed was safely beyond, so were his kin.
The ghoul dragged the rough fabric of his sleeves across his eyes. The skin felt raw and swollen from crying, and he knew without a doubt that his pack would clock it immediately. Sighing he stepped into the den and prayed to Satan that everyone was still working on their chores.
But he wasn’t so lucky.
Crowded around the open fire of the living area were Swiss, Cumulus, Dew and Cirrus, all cradling mugs of various colours and enjoying each other's company. Their conversation drifted off as Phantom attempted to move past them and into the corridor connecting their rooms.
“Afternoon bug!” Swiss called through a toothy grin, “Want a cup of coffee?”
Phantom offered a firm shake of his head in response, his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. His heartbeat thundered in his chest and he felt his fingers begin to shake. He thrust them into the pocket of his hooded top in an attempt to conceal them.
Cumulus placed her mug on the coffee table and swiftly moved towards the little ghoul.
“Are you alright bug?” She asked, raising her arm in an attempt to pull him into a hug. But he flinched and moved backwards away from her grasp.
“I-I’m fine,” Phantom replied, his voice high and cracking in protest.
He gave her a half-hearted smile and attempted to move around her, only to be stopped in his tracks by Dew’s shrill voice.
“What? Did Papa kick you out like a stray dog and now you’re too good to hang out with us?” The fire ghoul said, clearly meant as a joke but not landing as one.
Phantom, despite his fragile mental state, growled deep within his chest.
“H-how did -.” He grumbled, his hands closing into fists in his pocket. His mind was swimming; How had they known he’d just been at Papa’s?
Beside him Cumulus hovered close by, her ears pulled downwards and her hands daring to come closer.
“Dew! That was inappropriate.” Cirrus snarled at the fire-ghoul before focusing on Phantom, “Little bug, Papa sent me a little text to let us know you’d just left his office and you were quite upset - .”
“W-what?” Phantom whined, embarrassment coiling within him and wrapping around his chest like a viper, “No. I-it’s not like that. I-I-I’m fine. It’s - I - I” He struggled to find the words, his heart was hammering in his ears and his mind hazy.
“Use your words, Bug. You’re not a kit.” Dew spoke again, his voice softer. But the words still stung in Phantom’s ears.
A kit. They thought him nothing more than a baby unable to use his words. A helpless child running to Papa when things got tough. How pathetic.
“Fucking hell, Dewdrop! Read the room, dude!” Cirrus landed a strong punch to Dew’s bicep. He hissed as his coffee spilt over the rug under his feet.
“What? I was only kidding. He knows that. Right, bug?”
“It’s not the time. He’s upset. Christ!” Cirrus barked, “You need to learn how to be more sensitive.”
As the pair squabbled, each nipping at the other's heels, Swiss stood to join his mate in comforting Phantom. The multi-ghoul attempted to cross his arm around the young ghoul’s shoulder only to be shrugged off.
“Bug if something's worrying you we can talk about it. That’s what we’re here for.” Swiss urged.
Phantom shook his head. He couldn’t meet their eyes, instead keeping them fixated on the blue opal pendant around Cumulus’ neck. In an attempt to calm his beating heart, Phantom thought back to the day it was bought and how excited Swiss had been to find something that described his mate's eyes so perfectly. He’d dragged Phantom and Dew along with him to a crystal shop in downtown Stockholm just for it. It was one of the only times that Phantom had felt included and not just someone to fill the line-up. Swiss, despite his playboy demeanour, had always tried to make an effort with Phantom because, in the multi-ghoul’s words, everyone was new once.
Somewhere above him, in the land of the living, Cumulus said his name. He looked up to show acknowledgement.
“Bug, sweetheart, can I take you to your nest? Swiss can make you some hot chocolate and I can get you tucked into bed.”
She meant well, Phantom knew that, but the more she talked the more he felt like a baby being mollycoddled.
“What do you need, buddy?” Swiss, once again trying and failing to pull the little ghoul into a loving embrace, “We can’t help you if you don’t let us.”
“I-um-I-I just want t-to be left alone.” Phantom managed, his voice hoarse with tears.
Swiss and Cumulus exchanged worried looks. Behind them, Cirrus and Dew were silent, their scuffle having come to a close. Phantom didn’t dare look in their direction for fear of what he might see. More pity? Further judgement from Dew? Maybe even frustration.
“P-please. Can I just go?” Phantom asked meekly.
With a heavy sigh and a brief moment of ponderous stillness, Swiss nodded.
“Okay, bug. But you know where we are, right? Just call for us and we’ll be there.”
Phantom didn’t wait for further confirmation. He pulled his jacket tightly around himself and all but ran in the direction of his room. Behind him, he could hear the hushed whispers spark between the ghouls, but he did his best not to listen. Already ripe with kindling of his own, he didn’t need any more fuel for his fire.
~ Read In Full Here ~
#the band ghost#my fan fiction#my fanfic#ghostband#ghost tumblr#ghost band#ghost fanfiction#ghost band fanfiction#papa emeritus iv#papa copia#nameless ghoul#nameless ghouls
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YOU UNDERSTANDDDDDD !!!!!!!!!!! <3
if you have thoughts… please share, i beg 👀 /nf
Steeples fingers
So my thoughts are all over the place there is no coherency in this house
No but like I've bothered Crim about them soo much because I'm obsessed
Phantom is too - phantom thinks that Zeph is the prettiest thing ever willed into existence. A fallen star gracing the earth, gracing him, with their mere presence.
He admired them from afar for the longest time. Hiding in the shelves of the library, peeking up from a book he'd been pretending to read for an hour, all to catch a glimpse. See them in their element; glasses slipped down the bridge of their nose, brow furrowed, focused on transcribing. He loves the shape of their profile, the way they move their lips silently while writing, oh he's outright smitten with every fine detail. And he hasn't gone unnoticed...Zephyr doesn't think he's subtle, but they like the attention. They spare him these crooked soft smiles in passing and he nearly trips over himself. Makes his heart beat out of his chest.
Theyre good for each other, yknow?
Phantom's quintessence is good for easing the aches they can't seem to soothe themself, and Zephyr helps the poor bug when his lungs can't seem to take the air he needs. They brought him out of his first asthma attack, careful to guide each breath with their magic. He thought they were an angel in his panic.
A lot of Phantom's flare on stage was first inspired by them - Aether showed him videos of old performances. Something about them during their keytar solo always stuck with him. He's far too embarrassed to tell them that though. I'm sure Zeph knows.
He's a little jealous of how easy Mountain, Dew, and Aether seem around them. Bonded already, intimately familiar with every inch of each other. Phantom aches for that familiarity. It'll come with time, but still doesn't change it.
When they get closer, Zephyr starts finding pressed flowers left for them. Slipped under their door or left at their work station, sometimes sitting on the organ keys just waiting for them. Little violets mostly.
......and NSFW under the cut here because of course I'm gonna be horny about them
I hc air ghouls as having feathers, and oh god Zeph's got the prettiest silver feathers. Pretty but fuck are they sensitive to touch. Start petting them, massaging your fingers in, they melt. Phantom discovered it on accident, idly playing with their hair, starting to fuss with the feathers. They're gasping and whining in seconds, Zeph turns so pink. Phantom's favorite thing is to be in their lap, bouncing on their cock, fingers buried into their feathers, because their eyes roll back and just fucking stay there.
And if you remember this ficlet you'll recall their fun little breathplay adventures...I just think Zeph gets off on having so much effortless control over Phantom with just their magic. A younger, spry, ghoul. Helpless to their will, at their feet begging for a single breath with his eyes alone. It's fucking delicious. It's an image that stays in their mind for a long time, that they recall often on lonely nights.
I don't think Zeph loves quintessence being used for anything besides pain relief but I think there are days where they ask Phantom to indulge them. Days where their spine feels like there are needles digging between the vertebrae or their hip refuses to not pop out of place, but something still coils up in their belly. Hot and insatiable, a literal ache of need that hurts almost as much as the rest of their body. Phantom is more than happy to lay beside them, stroking their cheek as his magic makes a home in their eyes, watching bliss take their face, their fingers curl into the sheets. The sensation of being fucked, split open on some unseen force, overwhelms them, overtakes them. He wrings out at least two orgasms from them each time, the second one is always selfishly taken but they're beyond content when his influence fully seeps out. Phantom is always sweet enough to clean their mess up with his tongue.
Phantom loves shame, nothing gets him as hard as a little bit of humiliation. And being degraded and chastised by Zephyr hits so different. It sounds elegant, pitying, amused all at once. There's something about the bass of their voice delivering it softly, like it's a secret that he's a disgusting pervert, like they're doing him a favor by keeping their voice down. It never fails to get his cock leaking in his boxers. Combine that with Zeph and their fondness for fucking in places that are entirely inappropriate? Oh Phantom doesn't stand a chance.
So often he'll find himself on his knees under their desk in the library, their steady hand fisted into his hair while the other one scribbles away diligently at the logs. Sometimes, if the rooms empty, they'll look down at him in whatever sorry state he's in. Always drooling around their cock, sometimes causing a wet spot on their slacks sometimes not. Always teary eyed and flushed. If they're feeling particularly cold they'll force him to the base just to see him gag, but they always talk down to him. That's his favorite part. Seemingly disgusted or humored in some way ('didn't even fight me when I told you to crawl under my desk like a dog', 'did you just forget where we are?', 'Too fixated on the promise of a cock down your throat that you forgot how to think rationally?'). Phantom can't help but moan every time, and they always have to remind him to keep it down - they are in a library after all.
#void rambles#spicy tag#answered#nameless ghouls#phantom ghoul#aeon ghoul#zephyr ghoul#zephyr/phantom#the band ghost#ghost the band
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Don’t go where I can’t follow
What scares Tucker the most, after everything, was that he hadn’t even known anything was wrong.
Truce gift for @phan-pheeking-tastic, ended up going with Tucker and Sam finding out Danny is half-ghost in a No-One Knows AU.
This was super fun to do, hope you enjoy!
What scares Tucker the most, after everything, was that he hadn’t even known anything was wrong.
He had thought, with how close he and Danny were, how close they had been, that he would have known if something had happened to him. To his family.
But he hadn’t. Neither had Sam.
When he wakes up that day there’s no dread, no forbording feeling in gut. Heck, Tucker wakes up pretty happy.
It’s the last day of school before winter break, and he and Sam have plans to play as much Doom as possible so they can hopefully beat it before the new year. There’s rumors that anyone who can will be able to access new dlc content that otherwise won’t be available until at least the summer.
Some small part of him is even happy that Danny isn’t in town this week, meaning he and Sam can hang out without things getting awkward.
And Tucker hates thinking like that. Danny was his best friend for a long, long time, but ever since high school started the two of them had slowly drifted apart. Which he does understand, on some level. They’re not five years old anymore playing together on the playground.
But Danny had become so aloof with them, barely interacting with them in class and showing up late to hang out, if he even showed up at all.
And it couldn’t have been because of their new undead neighbors that now haunted the town. After the first like, month, Phantom had proved he was a decent enough ghost that most people didn’t really have to worry about malicious undead any more than they had to worry about overdue homework.
He and Sam have just finished fighting the second to last boss in Doom when there’s a knock on his door. A quick glance at his computer’s clock shows that it isn’t even 11pm yet, so it can’t be his parents telling him to start winding down to go to sleep. It’s also winter break now, so why-?
After a second his Dad’s face peeks through the door, his form backlit by the hallway lights. He thinks he sees his mom too, but after a moment she seems to briefly lay her hand on his father’s shoulder then disappear from view.
“Hey kiddo,” it's hard to tell what his dad is thinking at that moment, and his voice sounds carefully neutral, “are you at a good stopping point for the night? I need to talk with you about something serious.”
He goes to share a glance at Sam but she’s already getting up from her desk.
“Hey Tuck,” Sam’s voice is muffled from her starting to remove her headphones, “I think I’m going to have to call it quits for tonight. My parents just came in and said they need to talk about something important. Hopefully tomorrow we can start planning for the final boss. I’ll text you later, night.”
“Sounds good,” he replies, quickly saving and logging out to the main screen, “night.”
And with that the room is washed in silence. After a second of hesitation his Dad reaches over and flips on the room’s overhead light, moving to sit on the bed across from his gaming set-up.
“Soooo…” Tucker prompts, “what’s up? You said you needed to tell me about something serious?”
His dad doesn’t respond immediately, taking a deep breath before slowly reaching out to rest his hand on Tucker’s shoulder.
“Tucker,” his father looks so sad, “there’s been an accident, a- an attack. Danny’s mom is in a coma.”
———
It takes almost a week to fully find out what happened.
The Fenton’s had been visiting a family friend in Wisconsin, apparently Vlad Masters had gone to college with Danny’s parents, and had invited them all to his mansion for the weekend. It had also been rumored that Mr. Masters had been experiencing some supernatural events that he had wanted Maddie and Jack to help him solve, and with how fanatic the two were around ghosts they had obviously been eager to help in any way they could.
And it had turned out that the rumors had been true, and at least one violent ghost had attacked the mansion the following evening.
Here the details get murky.
Some reports say a single ghost was responsible for the attack, and only the Fenton’s weapons and skill saved everyone from being killed by the vengeful spirit. Others claim it was two ghosts having a territory spat that just so happened to happen in the mansion. Some even claim Phantom drove off the raging ghost and stopped more injuries from occurring.
Number of ghosts aside, the attack had destroyed almost a third of the Masters’ Mansion, and had left most of the staff with injuries from debris or from the ghosts themselves. Danny and Jazz had apparently escaped the worst of it because their parents had gotten them out early on and the two had hidden in the nearby woods until authorities arrived.
Jack had gotten a nasty concussion and broken two ribs fighting off the ghost(s), and Maddie had suffered some kind of mental or physical trauma that left her comatose.
Vlad Masters’ was missing, no one had seen him directly prior to the attack, and afterwards it was like he had just up and vanished.
————
He and Sam stand outside the Fenton house for almost a full minute before Sam seems to find the courage to knock. Two long, followed by two fast and one long, the same combination they’ve all used since they were little kids.
The silence afterwards is thick, and just as Sam is raising her hand to knock again there’s a series of clanking sounds as the locks are undone and the door opens to reveal Jasmine Fenton.
“Oh, hey there,” she gives a small smile, “I’m glad you two are here. Danny is upstairs in his room, we’re all pretty shaken up from what happened, having you two visit should help.”
“How is- how are you holding up?” Tucker asks as they move through the hallway into the living room, a place that’s both so familiar and yet alien, he half expects Danny to be leaning over the staircase inviting them upstairs to his room.
“It’s, I’ve been holding it together,” Jazz says, “I’ll probably be staying here at least until Dad’s ribs are better, luckily all my professors are pretty accommodating and will be letting me attend virtually until I can head back to college. I’m… really scared for my mom, but I trust that she’s getting the best care possible and that she’ll wake up soon.”
Jazz gestures towards the stairs, “Danny’s in his room, call me if you guys need anything. I was actually just about to head over to the Hospital, Dad should be getting discharged today, so we should be back in a few hours.”
With one last smile Jazz heads back the way they came and there’s the sound of the front door opening and closing.
“Should we really be doing this?” Tucker finally breaks the silence, glancing towards the staircase as if Danny will suddenly appear there.
“Honestly I don’t know, but it’s too late to go back now. If we leave Jazz will just ask Danny when she gets back and then we’ll be the assholes who left without saying anything.”
Damn, Tucker hates it when Sam uses logic like that.
“Yeah but it’s just, I don’t think we’ve had a full conversation with him in the past month. It feels wrong to just drop in now when he’s hurting like this.”
“Well it’s not like Dash or Paulina is going to just waltz by and offer to go comfort him,” Sam’s mouth twists into a grimmance, “and Valerie’s probably too busy investigating the attack to try and find the ghosts who did this.”
Tucker can’t argue with that, they really are the closest ones to Danny. Still, it feels wrong to walk up those steps and knock on Danny’s bedroom door like nothing in the past two years has happened.
There’s no immediate answer, but after a second series of knocks there’s the sound of bare feet on hardwood before the door opens slightly, just enough for Danny’s tired blue eyes to peek out.
“Hi,” Danny’s voice is hoarse, “uh, no offense but why are you two here?”
“We uh-,” Tucker shares a glance with Sam, “we wanted to check in on you. I know we aren’t all as close anymore but we wanted to at least see if you were ok in person and see if there was anything we could do.”
That sounded a lot better in his head, but Danny isn’t slamming the door on them, so there’s that. After a moment the door opens fully and he and Sam cautiously walk inside as Danny moves to lean against the far wall.
“I, thanks for coming over?” He seems to almost hug himself, looking anxiously around the room. “I don’t know if your parents put you up to this, or worse Jazz, but you guys don’t need to hang around out of some sense of obligation.”
“We came because we wanted to Danny!” Sam exclaims, “we’re still your friends and, and we care about you! This is obviously traumatizing and we want to help you-“
“You guys don’t understand!” Danny snarls at them. Apparently what Tucker had thought was anxiety was in fact anger.
“You think I’m some scared kid trying to come to terms with an unfortunate accident. Well I’m not!”
Danny’s eyes almost seem to glow in response to his heated words, which doesn’t make any sense. Humans eyes don’t glow, the only thing close to that that Tucker has seen happens when ghosts-
“It was my fault!”
With that last shout there’s a brilliant flash of white, and when Tucker can finally blink the spots out of his vision he finds he can’t quite comprehend what he sees before him.
“I hurt her! I was trying to stop that stupid ghost from hurting my Dad and I ended up almost killing my mom!”
Danny’s too long sweatpants and pullover have been replaced with a glowing hazmat suit, and what’s left standing before them is Phantom, the town’s own ghostly hero. The town’s very young, very dead hero.
“What?”
Sam sounds like she’s just been gut punched, and Tucker doesn’t feel much different.
Everyone in Amity Park knows that Phantom is one of the friendlier ghosts that now haunt them, even dealing with the rowdier ones that try to interfere with day to day human life.
But everyone also agrees that Phantom can be downright terrifying most of the time. The simple fact that he looks all of thirteen makes most residents uncomfortable at best.
Trying to understand that Danny and Phantom are one in the same is almost too much for him, but looking the ghost dead in the eyes now the similarities between the two are overwhelming.
He can see Danny in the way the ghost is hunched like he’s about to collapse onto himself, and he can see Phantom in how his stance is planted and ready to move in a moment's notice.
“It’s-“ and here Phantom's voice breaks, “it’s my fault.”
And with that soft admission the dam finally breaks, and Phantom crumbles to the floor, back heaving as great sobs wrack his body.
In that moment Tucker’s body seems to almost move on to own, moving almost in tandem with Sam to crouch down and envelop Danny in a tight hug.
“I’m sorry that happened,” Sam whispers into Danny’s hair, “I wish you could have told us when this happened so we could have helped. But we know now. We’ll help you however we can, and I’m sure your mom will be better in time.”
Sam sounds so sure of what she’s saying, Tucker can’t even bring himself to speak. Whatever happened to Danny, whatever he’s been doing these past two years, has changed him.
All Tucker can do is tighten his grip, a promise that he hopes he can keep.
#2022 holiday truce#2022 DP holiday truce#Danny phantom#tucker foley#sam manson#no beta we die#injury mention
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Found in Glimwood Tangle
The story of how Amity and Danny found each other in Glimwood Tangle and together started their journey to beat the gym challenge and take on Galar's champion!
Danny Phantom AU where Danny and company are pokémon and Amity Park is their pokémon trainer.
Written for @crossoverdanuary Week, Day six: General video games Pokémon Sword & Shield | Momentum
I never played video games as a kid, and now as an adult I still haven't played that many. (Although I'm really enjoying Paranormasight right now. If I'd finished it, I might have used it for the crossover instead.) Pokémon Shield was my first ever pokémon game and my second ever video game period, and I know people say it's one of the less good pokémon games but I still have a certain fondness for it.
AO3 Link
[No Warnings Apply]
There was a white-haired girl in the forest, probably only seven or eight years old. Her white dress was stained with grass and dirt and moss. She was sitting on a tree stump. She was crying. She was lost.
He could remember sitting right where she was now, lost and crying... back when he was a boy and not a stump. Curiously, he approached her. He moved slowly, cautiously, trying not to startle her. But she startled anyway when she finally noticed him.
"Ah! A pokémon!" she shouted, falling off the stump and scrambling away. "Please don't hurt me!"
He tilted his head, watching silently with big, round eyes, careful not to move any closer and scare her away.
Her own eyes were wide with fear. She probably knew that wild pokémon were dangerous. But then, why was she here? Why had she wandered into Glimwood Tangle where it was so dark you could hardly see what was in front of you because the only light came from luminescent mushrooms. Why would she come to a place where the paths were so winding and confusing that even grown-ups sometimes got lost? Why would she go somewhere where ghost pokémon and psychic pokémon lived in such large numbers?
The Glimwood Tangle had been scary back when he was a boy. It must have been scary to her, too.
"H-hey," she said with a trembling voice. "You have green eyes, like me." It was true. Hers were even so bright they could almost be glowing, just like his were. "I've never seen a Phantump with green eyes before. I've only ever seen them with red eyes. But... I don't think you're a shiny Phantump, are you? You just have green eyes."
She seemed to be calming down now, so he risked floating a little bit closer to her. He hovered around her, checking to see if she was hurt. Her knees were bruised, but other than that, she looked okay.
"Dad says wild pokémon are dangerous, but you don't seem like you're gonna hurt me," she said, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. "My name is Amity, Amity Park. Do you have a name, little Phantump?"
He keened a response. I don't know. I can't remember.
Of course, she couldn't understand. She shuddered at the sound of his voice, but she didn't try to get away.
"Well... you've gotta have a name," she said. "Hm.... How about Danny? I always thought that was a nice name, don't you? You can be Danny the Phantump. Do you like it?"
Rather than try to answer when she wouldn't know what he was saying, he did a little flip in the air to show that he was happy. She'd picked out a good name for him, Danny. And now that she had calmed down a little, it was time to get her out of this forest.
Danny started floating away, back toward the path.
"Wait, where are you going?" Amity asked.
He stopped and turned back to look at her, nodding his wooden head for her to follow.
"You want me... to follow you?"
He did another flip of affirmation and waited as she hesitantly walked after him. She was tense, and trembling like a leaf, and stumbling on shaky legs, but she still followed, trusting him.
It had been a long time since Danny had gotten lost in these woods as a boy. Now, as a pokémon, he knew every path by heart. When they had to pass through tall grass, he floated high enough that Amity could see him, and tried to keep her away from any other pokémon he could spot.
They were almost to Ballonlea when a particularly bold and naughty impidimp jumped on Amity and she screamed.
Danny immediately flew to her rescue, hooking one of his branches around the impidimp and flinging it off. He saw that it was about to attack him next, but he tackled it and it ran away.
"Danny, you saved me!" Amity shouted, and wrapped her arms around his wooden head in an almost splintering hug.
For a moment, he let himself savor the contact. But her scream and shout would have attracted even more wild pokémon to her, and they would be here soon. He phased out of her grip and urged her forward. They weren't out of the woods yet, but they were so close. He could see the lights of Ballonlea piercing through the thick foliage of Glimwood Tangle.
"Right," Amity said determinedly as she realized what he was trying to do. "Let's keep going."
She stayed quiet and stuck close behind him, and he led the way and kept his eye out for other pokémon. Then, finally, A bright pink pokémon center stood before them, its neon sign lighting up the clearing. They had left Glimwood Tangle.
"Come on, Danny it's my turn to lead the way," Amity said. "My house is that way."
He hesitated, turning and looking back at the forest. He didn't belong in a town. Glimwood Tangle was his home. It was too bright here, too loud, too crowded.
"Do you not wanna come?" Amity asked, her face morphing into something very sad. "It's okay. I understand. Thank you for helping me. If you want to go back, I won't stop you."
Then again... Amity was his friend now, wasn't she? A friend. That was all he'd wanted since he died in those woods. A friend.
Danny did not turn back. Instead, unsure though he was, he floated forward. He cautiously followed Amity past the pokémon center, toward a big round building—the pokémon gym.
There were ropes cordoning off the entrance to the gym from the rest of the town. Amity slipped right under them and kept going without a thought.
"This year's gym challenge is going on right now, so they put these ropes up to keep gym challengers from getting lost," Amity explained. "Ballonlea can be hard to find your way around when you're not used to it."
She led the way up a hill, to a modest wooden house at the very top. It looked almost the same as every other house on the street, except the roof had been painted green instead of purple. Amity pushed open the lavender door with ease. It wasn't locked.
"Dad, I'm home!" she called.
"Amity! Sweetheart, where did you go?" A man hurried to the front doorway to wrap his daughter up in a hug.
Startled and uncertain, Danny tucked himself behind Amity, out of her father's sight.
"I was worried sick. I looked all the places you usually go, and couldn't find you. I was just calling the neighbors to see if they knew where you were. Are you alright? Your dress is all dirty. You're not hurt, are you?"
"I'm okay, now," Amity assured him, hugging him tightly back. "I heard someone in the woods calling for help. They sounded close, so I thought it would be okay if I went to help them, but whenever I got close to the voice, it would get farther away, and before I knew it, the voice was gone, and I was lost. I was really scared for a while, but then Danny came and showed me the way home."
"Danny?" her father questioned. "I don't know any Danny."
"He found me in the woods," she said. "It's okay, you can come out."
Cautiously, Danny showed himself to Amity's father.
"A wild pokémon?" he said. "Wait, but it has green eyes. I've never seen a phantump with green eyes before."
"Me neither," Amity said. "But he helped me, and protected me when another pokémon attacked. I know I'm only seven and you said I can't start training pokémon until I'm ten, but can I please please please have a pokéball so I can catch him and take care of him. Please!"
"Well... I don't know," her father said. "A pokémon is a lot of responsibility, especially when it used to be wild. I would feel much more comfortable if your first pokémon came from a breeder. I've spoken to Elena, who lives near the pokémon center and she said she'd be happy to breed a nice starter pokémon for you."
"But Danny saved me!" Amity insisted. "I want him to be my pokémon."
Her father sighed and looked back at Danny, his expression halfway between resigned and scrupulous. "Do you want to be Amity's pokémon?" he asked.
Danny keened and bobbed up and down.
"And you'll take care of her and keep her safe?"
Danny repeated the response.
Mr. Park turned to his daughter next. "And you'll take care of Danny, and make sure to train him properly?"
Amity nodded determinedly and clenched her fists.
Finally, her father sighed, giving in. "Alright, fine. I think I have a pokéball around here somewhere."
—
From that day on, Amity and Danny were partners, and Amity took her responsibility as a pokémon trainer very seriously. She would feed him every day, and talk to other pokémon trainers about how best to train him.
When his head got knocked around in a training battle with her neighbor's dwebble, Amity sanded away the splinters so they wouldn't turn into cracks.
On the day the whole family gathered around the television to watch the gym challenge finals, Amity sat on the floor, right up close, with a notebook and a pen, ready to write down everything they did so she could learn from them. Mr. Park sat behind her on the couch with Danny curled up on the seat next to him.
"You know," Mr. Park said softly, running his fingers over the wooden grooves on Danny's head. "I've never seen her so serious about anything. She's always been a light-hearted, carefree kid, but she sure cares about you."
Danny had been surprised to hear that. He'd blinked up at the man, confused. To him, Amity had always been like this. Amity was gentle, and caring, and kind. She worked hard, and studied, and did her best. It was hard to believe she was doing all this for him, and not just because it was her nature.
It was on that day that Danny swore to always protect Amity Park, no matter what.
If she was giving her all for him, then he would do the same for her.
The challenger lost to Raihan in the finals, and Raihan lost to Leon, but Amity had apparently taken a lot of notes on all the fights and was eager to apply them to her own training methods.
—
By the time Amity finally turned ten, she and Danny were inseparable. Everyone around town was so used to them, Danny hardly ever had to go in his pokéball. They were simply another feature of Ballonlea, like that weird guy who made sculptures in an alleyway and wanted to be a pokémon.
Then, on her birthday, something changed.
"Happy birthday, Amity," Mr. Park said, and he reached into his pocket, and handed her a pokéball. "I worked with Elena to pick out a good one for you."
Amity turned it around in her hands while Danny floated closer to examine it, confused. It seemed to be occupied. Danny could even catch a faint whiff of ozone coming from it. How strange.
"A pokémon?" Amity asked. "But I already have Danny."
Her father laughed. "You said you wanted to do the gym challenge this year, didn't you?" he said. "You'll need more than one pokémon if you want to have a chance of beating the champion. Even if your pokémon is as great as Danny."
"No one can beat the champion, that's why they call him Unbeatable Leon," Amity said. "But I guess you're right. As great as Danny is, I can't put all that pressure on him."
She could, Danny wanted to tell her. If Amity wanted to take on the gym challenge with him as her only pokémon, then he would fight like he'd never fought before. But Amity wasn't like that. She never gave him more than he could handle, and she wouldn't make him take on such a huge challenge alone. She was too kind for something like that.
"So which pokémon did you pick?" she asked.
"Throw it out and see," he answered with a smile, and gestured to the door to the backyard.
Once they were outside, Amity threw out the pokéball.
"Alright, pokémon, come on out!" she called.
The ball opened with a popping noise, and in a bolt of light, a little dog pokémon was standing on the moss lawn.
"Yamp! Yamp!" he barked.
"It's a yamper!" Mr. Park said brightly. "Normally, starter pokémon are either fire, grass, or water types, but Elena said especially talented trainers, or ones with more experience, have had a lot of success with electric types, who tend to be difficult to control for complete newbies. We thought yamper would be a good choice. What do you think?"
"Aww, he's so cute!" Amity said, kneeling down to rub her hands on the yamper's admittedly very fluffy-looking scruff. "I think I'll call him Tucker. That's a good name, right?"
"Uh... sure, whatever you like," her father agreed. "Although it's a bit atypical to give pokémon human names like Danny and Tucker, if you like it, that's all that matters."
"Oh, haha," she giggled as she stood up. "Look, the static is making it so his fur is trying to stick to me!"
Tucker ran in excited circles, electricity arcing around him. Danny floated down for a closer look and Tucker zapped him. It didn't seem intentional, but it was still rude. And that silly dog only yapped and rolled over, thinking it was terribly funny. The joke was on him, though. Electic-type moves weren't very effective on Danny.
"Elena says that yamper are best motivated with treats," Mr. Park said. "That should help you train him. He's still young and nowhere near Danny's level, but you have a couple months before the gym challenge to get him there."
"You say that like I'm already registered, but I need an endorsement to even sign up," Amity pointed out.
"Oh, don't be silly, Amity," her father said. "Everyone around here knows you're already a great pokémon trainer. I'm sure Opal is ready to endorse you the first chance she gets. When word got out it was your birthday today, I heard she was thrilled. She said, 'The next champion will come from Ballonlea!'"
Amity laughed. "That didn't happen!"
"Sure it did," her father insisted, though his smile betrayed him. "And anyway, I stand by saying she'll endorse you. I have no doubts about it."
—
At first, Danny was dubious about the new pokémon, but it was only a couple of days before the two of them were getting along famously.
So Amity and Danny spent the next few months training up Tucker. Amity had Danny remember some of his older, weaker moves for training fights with the much lower level yamper. And just like Mr. Park had said, Tucker wasn't very motivated and often had to be bribed with treats, especially sausages. But Amity was clever, and persevered, and soon enough, Tucker was a strong pokémon too.
Once sign ups for the gym challenge opened, Amity was sure her pokémon were ready for it. She took her pokémon to the Ballonlea gym and asked Gym Leader Opal for an endorsement to join. She had faith in Danny and Tucker, but just in case, she made sure to wear her pink dress when she asked. That would surely put Opal in a good mood.
"Why, Amity, I would be honored to endorse you," Opal told her. "But, I am also a gym leader, and it's a point of pride not to endorse just any trainer who asks without first testing their mettle."
"I'm ready," Amity said. "Whatever your test is, I'll take it now."
"Alright then, pop quiz," Opal said. "If I recall correctly from seeing you train them around town, your pokémon are a phantump and a yamper. What will they evolve into?"
"Tucker will evolve into a Boltund once he's strong enough. It shouldn't be long now," Amity answered. "And Danny won't evolve."
"Oh, I'm afraid that's only half-right, my dear," Opal said apologetically. "Phantump can evolve into trevenant."
"Yes, but a phantump only evolves into a trevenant when it's traded, and I would never trade Danny to anyone, even temporarily. You asked what my pokémon would evolve into. And my phantump isn't going to evolve. Besides, I don't think he would want to, anyway."
She was right. Tucker was always yapping excitedly about evolving into boltund, but Danny was perfectly happy just the way he was.
"Hm... I stand corrected," Opal said. "It seems you know your own pokémon even better than you know pokémon evolutions. If you'll come with me to my office a moment, I'll write you a letter of endorsement right now."
And she did just that.
"You take that letter to the gym in Motostoke, and they'll register you for the gym challenge," Opal explained. "It's quite a ways away, so you can call a flying taxi from the pokémon center when you're ready to go, but it's usually better to get to new places on your own two legs from there. You can train your pokémon on the routes between towns, and even catch new ones if you want to."
"I know," Amity said, taking the letter with reverence. "Thank you Ms. Opal. I won't let you down."
"I can't imagine you would," Opal said. "Good luck, Amity. I know you'll do great."
Amity was eager to get started. She went right home, packed her bag, and dressed in her favorite outfit, a white dress, white trainers, bright green leggings, and her favorite white boater hat. She'd gotten a lot better at keeping white clothes from getting dirty over the years, but she could only hope they wouldn't be ruined on her journey.
The ride in the flying taxi was amazing. The driver even let her keep Danny out of his pokéball since he was so well-behaved.
"Look at how small everything looks from up here," she said. Then she looked up at the massive bird carrying the taxi. "Maybe my next pokémon will be a corviknight."
"Oh, I wouldn't recommend that," the driver said. "A corviknight can be a lot to handle from the start. If you want one of these majestic pokémon, you'd do better to catch a rookidee and evolve it through training. That's how we get all the corviknight for the taxi service, that's why they're so gentle."
"A rookidee, huh?" Amity repeated. "Yeah, I like that idea. Danny, from now on, lets be on the lookout for a rookidee. I think Sam will be a good name for it. That will work whether it's a girl or a boy. What do you think?"
Danny keened in agreement, and Amity smiled like the sunshine. It had been a long time since his voice had made her shudder in the woods so long ago. And now, their journey was finally taking off.
#dp#danny phantom#pokemon#pokemon swsh#dp x pokemon#crossover#fusion au#dp crossover#crossover danuary week 2024#crossover danuary week#danny fenton#human amity park#fic#things i wrote
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The Phantom Queers Notes
Thanks to the ever patient Cap for putting up with me gushing about them nonstop! Love you cap
Anyways. Ahem.
Firstly; the Noir's mural. I said it was based off of official art from Mementos Mission? Yeah so I wanted to add that image to this post so anyone who hasn't seen it can see it and know what I meant
So it's like this. But with more vines.
And now onto the notes
Haru's dad slowly adapting to his daughter being with someone like Makoto and just,
Okumura: invite your wife to our next brunch. I'm ready to have a meal with the person who makes you glow
Haru: are you ready for that? Neither of us want to push you
Okumura: I'm ready. I love you, and you love her so much. It's about time I let you show me such
This is after like. Eight years of him knowing Makoto. There were some very awkward talks in the beginning but mans did his research! He knows how to be respectful!
He even frames a photo of their little family and keeps it on his desk, with little trans and lesbian flag stickers in the corners. He updates it every year as his grandsons grow older
(THATS RIGHT I HAVE MORE ABOUT THE SONS YOULL GET TO LEARN ABOUT THEM)
Teenage Makoto and Haru going to see a spy movie as their first date as girlfriends, Makoto nervous because sure Haru knows she's trans already, but what if-
They end up making out halfway through in the back of the theatre.
Haru: this was lovely! We should go on some more dates, yes?
Makoto: y-yeah! That would be very nice,
And Haru gives her a goodbye kiss, a full one right out in the middle of the street, waving her fingers with a little wink as she gets on her train, Makoto just standing there watching her new girlfriend walk away with her heart beating out of her chest
Their first place together is a dorm at university. They push the beds together to make a double, though they sleep so closely they'd only need a single. Little flags on the bag of the door, little polaroids from dates and hangouts with their new friends on a wall, the way Makoto's study space is sparse, with clicky pens and things to safely chew on, and Haru's having plants and life and so many colours-
Makoto finding out Haru's actually pregnant and just. She's so relieved. She didn't ruin it all for her love,
But Haru would've been so happy either way, even if their kid didn't have Makoto's eyes or, like their second and third, her rebellion and cute little nose-
Okay gonna lay out the sons real quick! They have three sons; Seiji is their first born, has Makoto's sharp red eyes, Haru's curls, and a general softer shape to him. When he's like middle school age he goes a bit emo, remains into dark colours and music. And he loves to cook! Loves food
Then there's the twins, Kazuto and Hiroto. Dark curls, Haru's softer eyes, but they have that Niijima spark, they look more like Makoto did as a kid. Identical twins too! Pure evil. Menaces. Cunning and with sharp grins, their moms are lucky they aren't into arson
Sae, just barely out of university, now the legal guardian of her little brother and just. Sitting there as this little middle schooler comes out to her, and-
Well. She has to do everything she can for her sister.
Makoto: here, let's look at my childhood photos
Hifumi: you, do that? Look at photos from before you transitioned?
Makoto: it's different for everyone. I'm fine with it, I know Yusuke has a select few saved, Futaba doesn't like it for other reasons-
Makoto: I did change my name though. We have nothing that remains with my dead name on it. That is where I draw my boundaries. I cannot handle hearing it on my worst days
Hifumi: I see
Makoto: it wasn't me. And while I'm not as feminine as you or Haru, I'm still a woman
Hifumi: I'm starting to make sense of this all, thank you so much
Makoto: that's what family is for, sis
-new note-
Haru: if you want to discuss, hm, reassignment procedures, with someone, I know Yusuke is rather open about his. He'll even give you his professional's number
Hifumi: why are you saying it that way?
Haru: Makoto has, a thing with. *Hospitals*. So, I tend to reword those things
-new note-
Makoto: I'll wake up early and make Haru breakfast in bed for our first mother's day, I'll have the little one strapped to my chest nothing can go wrong!
Hifumi: what happened to you
Makoto, sitting on the kitchen floor covered in flour and butter, her infant son playing with Johanna on the couch: I tried to cook with a baby. Help me please
Hifumi entertains the baby while Makoto makes a plate of scones, an omelette, and a little fruit salad for her wife
"I just get so distracted when he's with me. I lost all focus"
"yeah but the flour?"
"I was measuring it. Saw Seiji clap. So, I clapped."
"Ah."
Haru wakes up to her son giggling on Makoto's side of the bed, her wife tracing soft kisses up from her hand
"happy mother's day, baby"
"Happy mother's day, Love"
They both have the day off, and just spend a nice day with their lil guy
Haru: if this is mother's day, I wonder what you'll do for my birthday?
Makoto: ah, well Seiji won't be helping me with those plans. That'll be a very special night out, just us two. After a morning with his plans of course
Haru: I'm so lucky I have you,
Makoto: sjdbskdhxidbdj baby,,
-new note-
Makoto: happy birthday baby
Haru: you, bought that small building between us and the shop next door?
Makoto: let's go inside and you'll see your gift. Full home gym, with a little sauna and hot tub room in the back
Haru: ...not gonna lie Love this looks more like a gift for you
Makoto: did you notice the lounge chairs? This is a private show for you~ I know you hate coming to the gym to watch me, so-
Haru: I LOVE IT
Makoto: you can have a private showing whenever you'd like, baby. All for you
Haru: can we, have a go right now?
Makoto: of course. Are you okay with me working on arms and upper body?
Haru: YES
haru just in her lil lounge chair aggresively sipping water
cause shes thirsty
(green was Cap akfhdj)
Staring at the back muscles
Makoto has to wear a long sleeve shirt to her run with Ryuji the next morning. Normally she runs in the like, sports bra thing. But her arms, back, and abs are. Covered. From Haru enjoying her gift
Haru: I'm gonna kiss every muscle on you
Makoto: oh wow
Ryuji: whyre you wearing a shirt? You hate the sweat cling
Makoto: Haru's birthday yesterday
Ryuji: ...fuck I forgot to get her anything she's gonna kill me- wait. GROSS DUDE DONT TELL ME ABOUT-
Makoto: I DIDNT MAN STOP YELLING
Makoto and Haru at like a parents night for the preschool Seiji goes to just trying to ignore the straight gossip going around all around them
One couple: hehe we're trying to give her a sibling, trying for a baby is soooo much work
Makoto: ...they're just openly admitting they fu-
Haru: shh, Love. I know. Don't get too stressed though, you have to be in good health for our appointment tomorrow.
Makoto: think we should tell people we're also trying? But heavily imply we're just fu-
Haru: yes. Absolutely. Put your hand in my back pocket, I'll leave a little mark on your neck-
Makoto excitedly explains this at the appointment they go to the next morning, she's had to take those. Relax pills before so she's a lil loopy, and Haru just smiles so tenderly as they run the tests on her wife. She loves their little family,, so glad the medical field has a way for them to have kids (I'm making shit up idk man. Au magic this world made it possible I don't wanna think about it too hard)
Makoto: ...do you also find it weird we only have sons
Haru: shh don't think Love. Happy moment, no gender thoughts. Hold one of the twins, be mesmerized by the baby
Haru adores her wife and their sons so much. Even if their oldest turns emo and the twins are feral demons
Akira: when I first met you two you were getting the drunkest out of the group at every night out, dancing all over each other- I'm pretty sure you two were making out more than you weren't
Makoto: I remember our uni days, ha
Haru: mm, good times
Ann: you guys were. All over each other then
Haru: it was our first time getting to be open about us! It was exciting.
Makoto: we're just as all over each other now, we just know how to close doors
Ryuji: and DONT ACT LIKE YOU AND SHIHO DONT JUST MAKE OUT ON THE COUCH
Ann, three drinks in: you think that's all we do on that couch?
Yusuke: ...I think we need to sober her up before my roommates kill each other
Akechi, already grabbing the hose: on it
Ann and Ryuji, very wet the next minute:
Akechi: problem solved. Hey, lesbians. If you get too handsy you're getting sprayed next
Haru holds her hands up in the "don't shoot" position
Hifumi just sits to the side and drinks with Futaba, watching them all
Futaba: you want to stay on our couch tonight? Going home with Mrs and Mrs "Horny Drunk" won't lead to good things for your mental health
Hifumi: ...please tell me you're not speaking from experience
Futaba: me? No. Goro? Oh yes. Watching him be unable to look at either of them for four months was hilarious
Hifumi makes it back home around noon and notices only Makoto is in the house space
Hifumi: hey, where's Haru?
Makoto: hm? Oh, she's working downstairs. Want some tea? I can make you a plate of eggs?
Hifumi: Haru out drank everyone, how is she functioning?
Makoto: she's somehow immune to the hangover. Nah, I'm kidding. She drank water between every drink. Then it was the Gatorade and coffee mix, with a plate of my "Hangover Eggs". Neither of us have ever had a rough morning. Not since the first month of uni
Hifumi: ...I'll take a plate of the eggs, please
The day Haru finds out she's pregnant is. One of the best days in their household
She and Makoto had been having monthly appointments with their doctor over the last year, and. She'd felt off since the week after the last one but- she thought takin the test was wishful thinking
But the eight tests all read positive and- man she's gotta think of a way to tell Makoto
Before she gets a chance some dude tries to rob Noir's, barely nicks her with his knife but she goes to the hospital as a precaution cause tetanus
Makoto gets a call from one of the workers telling her her wife is at the hospital, they were robbed, and she gets there and is so relieved to see Haru looking alright, just some bandages around her arm, and Haru just Smiles
Eventually a doctor comes in to give Haru the all clear, but he pauses before they leave like: oh, and we did check. You're coming along just fine
Makoto: what does that mean?
Doctor: the pregnancy. Ms Okumura is early on, but all is going well
Makoto: ...it worked? Youre-
Haru: surprise?
Makoto is excitedly telling everyone for the next few months. Sure Haru was the one who wanted children more of the two, but that doesn't mean Makoto didn't want this. Her wife is pregnant! They're having a kid! And by some miracle, it's their kid
Ann: wait. How
Yusuke: but. You're on estrogen? There should be no way-
Ryuji: GROSS YOU GUYS DID IT?!
Shiho: ...Ryuji, stay on point here
Haru: science
Makoto: lesbian magic
Goro: I'm not watching your little spawn
Akira: dibs on godfather!
Futaba: in surprised you kept it a secret this long. Both of you suck at secrets
Makoto: no we don't
Haru: ...love you accidentally told me you were going to propose three days before you did it
They're much more open when they decide to go for a second kid, mostly because they're more convinced it'll work this time
Ryuji: gross
Ann: we already went over this. Science baby. Not like with straight people
Ryuji: but still
Makoto: you've known us for like ten years. How are you still like this
Ryuji: IDK YOU GUYS ARE LIKE THE PSEUDO MOMS I DONT WANNA THINK ABOUT YALL FUCKING
Makoto: so stop thinking about it?
Ryuji: ...oh.
Ann: DUDE SERIOUSLY
Then there's a bit about Ann and Shiho, how they decide to have a donor baby, and. End up with Triplets. Two daughters; Asami, Nikko. And then a son, Tsukito
Makoto: Seiji, turn off the TV, go play with the trio
Seiji: but mom, they're playing field hospital again. They're gonna make me the patient
Makoto: buddy, sometimes we have to make sacrifices. You and I will have a day to ourselves if you do it, okay?
Seiji: can we go to the farmers market?
Makoto: uh sure
Seiji has the red eyes but the twins are pure evil
Makoto: Kazu, Hiro, how did you get up there
The twins, literally on the roof: climbed
The twins have the like innocent Haru smile. Devious
There's cunning behind those eyes. They have the Niijima mind
Kazu: mom I don't feel good
Makoto: oh no, what happened- ...why is there a pencil in your arm
Hiro: hi mom
Makoto: ...both of you. What happened. Why are there pencils in your arms
Kazu and Hiro: we wanted to see if we could stab each other hard enough
Makoto: get in the car we're going to the hospital
Kazu: we're going on a hunger strike
Hiro: we want the bigger room. There's two of us
Seiji: I'm older. Nice try.
Kazu: we will make you give in
Hiro: I'm studying up on CIA torture tactics
Kazu: we both take martial arts. You will give us the room
Seiji: oh yeah? You think I won't survive? Try me
Makoto: baby the boys are waging war
Haru: eh, they're tire each other out. Feel up for a workout?
Makoto: HARU WE HAVE A PROBLEM
Haru, who was working the shop downstairs: Love? What's wrong
Makoto: I lost the babies
Haru: ...what
Makoto: I didn't think they'd figure out how to open the door i- baby the babies fucking got out-
Seiji: they're under the couch they just opened it and went under the couch
Makoto: what did we do to deserve this
Haru: I mean, we did fuck at a party and break the urn with someone's grandmother's ash's in uni
Makoto: oh yeah. And then we blamed Goro
Uni Makoto and Haru are just. A different breed. Them in high school was sweet, them after is domestic with a hint of spice, but. The in between.
They all go to the grand opening of Noir and. Just stare at how normal the two are
Ann: no visible hickies... It's a miracle
Akira: I can't believe it. They've been tamed
Haru: hi darling, think you'll lie on your stomach for me?
Makoto: ngh, wait, its-
Haru: don't think about it. We'll get your shot over with quick, and then we can have the day in bed. I promise. We took today off for a reason
Makoto: nooo I don't want it,
Haru: you're just saying that, you love you. You won't be the you you worked so hard for if you weren't brave enough for a little shot
Makoto: ...will it be quick?
Haru: I'll even numb the area with ice
Makoto: and we can kiss all day?
Haru: whatever you want
Makoto: fine. Give me the e,
Haru: you call me baby and yet,
Makoto: OW
Haru: that's the ice, Love
Haru: there, all done.
Makoto: did you use the
Haru: yes, I used the Buchimaru band aid
Makoto: I love you so much
Haru: I love you too
Makoto: kiss time?
Haru: I suppose~
Makoto later on: hey, thanks for not listening. I'm already feeling better
Haru: I know darling, it's hard to stab you sometimes but I know it's what makes my girl happiest
Makoto: mm,
Sae: since you two are going to be rooming together when you go off to uni, it's time I passed on the torch
Haru: oh?
Sae: Makoto is a coward about her hormone shots. No matter how much she says she doesn't want it, she does. Unless she has a serious conversation about detransitioning on a non shot day, don't listen. Give her a lollipop or something, anything else to focus on. She does best lying down. She can't kick you if you sit on her calves-
Haru: i- have you been doing this all this time?
Sae: yes. And now we will have the awkward experience of me helping you give her the shot. It'll be weird. But it'll be your responsibility as her partner
Haru: I'm ready, Chief
Makoto: hey, sis- Haru? Wait, no
Sae: yes. Pants off. Lie down.
Makoto: NO WAIT I CHANGED MY MIND I WANNA BE A GUY
Haru: will you lie down for me my Love?
Makoto: ...uh yeah
Sae: pants.
Makoto: bite me.
Sae: Makoto, you know this is what's best for you
Makoto: lies
Haru: I'll hold your hand if that helps? And give you a kiss after for being so brave?
Makoto: you're much more convincing than sis
Sae: alright Haru, that's it. You did it, congrats
Makoto: I'm dead. You killed me
Haru: you're rather attractive for a corpse
Sae: I'm leaving now. I'll bring home dinner. Don't do anything stupid
Hifumi: oh I do my own shots
Haru: my wife is just a big baby about them, and I mean that affectionately
Makoto: yeah I. Don't do well with anything of that sort
Haru: our fertility appointments are. Very planned. She takes one of those relaxation pills before we go
Makoto: it's tough but it's worth it for the chance to give Haru anything she desires
Makoto is the most doting wife while Haru is pregnant. Foot rubs, vitamins, skin creams and talking to their son every day
"today your mama gave your mom her shot. That's right, your mama shot me"
"Makoto-"
"just kidding kid. She helped me feel more like myself, and I love her so much. You've got the best mama ever"
"They have the best mom too"
Haru: ...Makoto?
Makoto: it's 2 am,, what is it baby?
Haru: I want. Cold soba noodles
Makoto: easy enough,
Haru: covered in chocolate
Makoto: ...
Slow dancing in the kitchen, Makoto behind Haru, hands entwined over Haru's dark apron, heads leaned together
Makoto: a night to ourselves,
Haru: Hifumi moved out a year ago, and the kids are staying at the Quad,, so it's just us
Makoto: shall we treat ourselves? I can make you steak? Break out the good wine? We can have a nice bath, turn in early for some, us time
Haru: can you make baked potato with the steak?
Makoto: anything for you
Haru: carry me to bed later?
Makoto: of course
Buff Makoto and her pudgy baker wife, And their emo chef son and two demon spawns
Thinking back to scared little high school Makoto, more scrawny than anything, and petite Haru seated beside her, their pinkies barely entwined, both blushing and looking away
To Uni them, with Makoto playing rugby recreationally and Haru being very much a fan of that, them making out and boinking literally anywhere possible, somehow like top of their classes while still going all out for the fun side of things
Makoto being very awkward with Haru's dad.
Kunikazu: so. You are. Transgender?
Makoto: yep.
Kunikazu: you want to be, a boy?
Makoto: w-wrong direction, sir
Haru: you can't do anything, father. I love her.
Kunikazu: I see
Makoto: ...can I go home? And hire a bodyguard?
Kunikazu: I suppose you two can live together. Just. I do not want a surprise grandchild
Haru: that's not even possible
Makoto: yeah I'm leaving
Haru: father and I will be having monthly brunch
Makoto: oh, joy,
Haru: just us. You're not invited
Makoto: ...did he-
Haru: I uninvited you
Makoto: I love you so much
Haru: no marks, I'm seeing my dad tomorrow! Makoto-
Makoto: but baby,
Haru: ...no visible marks at least
Makoto: ...fuck I forgot the rule
Haru: it's, well. I didn't try to stop you,
Makoto: your dad is gonna murder me
Haru: he won't, he likes you, he's just. Still in his learning phase
Makoto: yeah but you're gonna walk in tomorrow looking like a dalmatian
Haru inventing the Gatorade coffee in university after a night of. Heavy drinking with her girlfriend. Waking up and feeling like death itself and just. Trying to make coffee but she's barely looking and brews it with. Gatorade instead of water
Haru: I know you spoke to Yusuke, but Makoto gave me permission to tell you about her surgery experience
Hifumi: oh?
Haru: she had top, which I'm sure you've noticed by now. She likes to ditch the shirt more than usual
Hifumi: yes
Haru: but she had such a horrible time recovering she cancelled for bottom and just. Never got it
Hifumi: oh. And she's okay with that?
Haru: it works for her. Makoto's never been, violently dysphoric about her body. Not since I met her. Her voice was one thing, but now she's at her best
Hifumi: thank you for sharing, and tell her thanks too
Haru: of course! And let me know if you need someone for care afterwards or to drive you to and from
Haru dealing with miserable Makoto post op from top and just
Haru: my poor girl,
Makoto: I'm dying,,
Makoto: but at least I'll die with boobs,
Haru: okay let's give you some more pain meds, HEY DONT TOUCH, MAKOTO-
Makoto: ow,,,
Makoto: I just wanted to feel,
Haru: I know you and your hands, but give it some recovery time, please
Sae walking into Makoto's room during their first sleepover in high school and just. Seeing the two all curled up, the content looks on their faces, She sees Makoto stir and the minor look of horror on her face at getting caught by her sister but, Sae just smiles, whispers a loud goodnight, and turns back
Haru nuzzles closer, and Makoto just. Smiles.
Them watching Seiji in a school play and just trying not to fight the group of mom's at the back of the room who are chatting
Makoto: the disrespect-
Haru: Love his line is coming up, make sure the camera is on!
Makoto: wait, shit, where did the twins go?
Haru: ...we can worry about bailing them out later
Surprisingly that's it?? But one last joke Cap made that I felt I needed to share
"of course Makoto's trans her Persona is a Transformer"
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How Sifu taught me not to give up
For @goldenhydreigon47, @theelispace, @deceitfulmelvinator, @katanafoxdrawsthings, @experiment14-12, @oogaboogaspookyman, @jokurr-d-phantom, @akachan3000, @kid-az and anyone else who see's this post.
If you have been watching my gameplay on Sifu, I could assume you know what the game is. It is a Kung-Fu styled beat-em up game, the story about a martial arts student embarking on a journey of revenge against the 5 martial arts masters responsible for the death of their father. The game is very difficult with a large learning curve with it, with multiple mechanics you'd have to master. Defending against enemies, attacking, parrying, dodging, learning all the skills available. Sifu has a death mechanic where every time you die, you'll age up, and while you will be healed, if you pass and die over the age of 70, it's game over. You wouldn't get through by just button mashing, you'd have to practice your moves, learn your enemies, and being able to react and counter. Sifu doesn't play around, just like Sekiro. Sifu is all about taking your time to grow and learn as the player, not rushing things. The aging shows the player how long it can take for someone to learn and improve over your lifetime. Spamming wouldn't work, you have to engage all of the games systems, and Sifu's system of combat is amazing, the game is meant to be learned, studied, and not brute forced.
Upon playing through the game, avenging my characters father at the end, you could expect applause, but instead... remorse. You end up becoming a killer, killing someone who murdered our characters family, sure they killed our father, but now I was the killer. This led to the bad ending, you may have achieved your goal, won, and pushed through quitting on a path, you grew, but what for? This puts the game in an empathetic view. Exacting revenge wasn't how the game wanted me to tackle it. You could die over and over, like a cycle, and that's what the game can be, a cycle that keeps going if you don't break it. That's when the second playthrough starts, with another goal, Wude. In ancient Chinese martial arts, Wude is the idea where one must possess both strong character and admirable behavior to overcome any obstacle.
Showing our adversaries mercy in the face of hostility shows our respect to them rather falling to their violent level. Instead of pushing through, you now have to learn to quit. Quit playing aggressively, quit going on the offensively, quit trying to avenge your father, because that's never wanted he wanted you to do anyways. He didn't want you to weaponize your rage to become a murderer, he wanted you to grow. Turn your passion into patience, and harden your determination, but not to forgetting empathy. Sifu isn't a game about punching and kicking, but change your way you think about fighting, and seeing life's challenges.
Sifu taught me how to be okay with letting go with what you think is your main objective. Sifu is about forgiveness, forgiving others, and yourself, it's about letting go of rage, anger, hatred, sadness, self-negativity. As easier as the easier path of giving up can be, the much more difficult path of forgiveness and compassion is more encouraged by the game, and by picking the harder path of letting go of pain, anger, and vengeance, our character smiles.
I was used to giving out before reaching the finish line, and living with that regret. I regret not doing enough for my family, I regret not trying harder to succeed in my studies, I regret not always forgiving myself and continuing to hate myself, I regret a-lot of things that I started and not having the motivation to follow through with. It's why me becoming a more determined and stronger person means so much to me, for the satisfaction that I stuck with something. As silly as it sounds, I'm so proud of myself. Even if Sifu, a game about fighting taught me how to stick through things when they're hard, in equal measure, it shows you permission to let go and move on, refraining the choices of not continuing down a path as steps in a cycle, rather than quitting.
Had I not let go of these paths and goals that I had, and trying to forget and run away from them, I wouldn't be the person I am writing this, and actually... I've never felt so much more happier in where I am.
Sifu may look like a story of revenge, but its a tale of growth in spite of vengeance. How quitting and giving up are two very different things. To quit is not to mean defeat, mindfully stepping away is not a failure, even more so if you wish to come back. Sifu didn't teach me to just keep going, but to refrain my life's failures, my middling achievements, my inability to get through this endless stack of work. It helped refrain all of that, as another step in my path to becoming who I am. Even when you quit, you're not a failure. If you let go of hatred, pain, frustration, and self-negativity, you could grow even higher than where you could be.
It was as Kiryu said:
"Some are born with talent, and some aren't. That's true. But that said... Those with talent never make it through talent alone. You have to overcome. Find boundaries, and break them. The only way to grow is by overcoming challenges.”
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Word of the day {6}
Oneshot summary; A hitman assigned to kill the Russian ghost, but what happens when the only time you can't fail, do?
Pairing: Winter Soldier x reader
Rating: Explicit
CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Oneshot
Word; 6.5k
Warnings; canon type violence, near death experience, d/s themes, choking, non-con to a beginning (don’t like any of the TW then don’t read)
Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing
A/N: So yeah, as I said, I will do some catch up’s on things I still want to finish before starting anything else, so here is probably one of my favourite Advent calendar chapters I had planned. Ps, translations will be at the end and excuse me if somethings isn’t correct, my rusty Russian needed some aid from google translate.
MAIN MASTERLIST
ADVENT CALANDER MASTERLIST
Fuck, fuck. Even if you could've sworn aloud from how harshly your heart beat against your ribcage, you wouldn't have done it, fearing your hunter would snap up the sound.
You weren't used to this role as prey. You'd never even imagined it as possible. But now it was and your hunter was none other than the name you'd written down when your hunt started. The one you'd stared at countless times as it glared back at you from the pages of your ledger.
The Winter Soldier.
As few, you'd heard of him. Like anyone living, you hadn't seen him. But, until now, his reputation hadn't set enough respect in you compared to everyone else. It had merely been a whisper everyone feared. The phantom of the east. The Russian ghost. The Winter Soldier.
Now, however, you felt the same fear everyone before you had. Now when the Soldier was hunting you.
You regretted ever signing the contract with that damn goodie two-shoe company that paid you a ridiculous amount even before you knew the name of your target. Why had you done it? You never said yes to things you weren't sure you could finish. But his name, once you'd been informed of it, hadn't stifled enough fear in you and that was the problem that got you here from the beginning.
You could and did blame your contractors for apparently not understanding the meaning of a hitman and that it was your job to take out the person whose name they'd given you. They'd ruined your plan and thoughtful positioning by being brainless enough to open fire upon the shot from his rifle rather than yours. Despite knowing you already were there to eliminate the target.
Though not anticipating their reaction, you knew that his shot must ring ahead of yours. Otherwise, you couldn't localise him.
After weeks of tracking him, it wasn't until the man you were here to protect pranced around in a suit to show himself off in public, acting like a goddamm beacon even during the day, you'd gotten a trail on the ghost. He felt more like a shadow in your peripheral than someone you could stare at straight on. But you'd noticed him, lingering in the shadows enough to become one with them.
When the big event finally came, you'd taken your position and estimated you had approximately five to seven seconds after the Soldier's shot echoed to find and line up your shot before he would retreat into the shadows again. And you'd found him.
However, the shot you'd lined up so perfectly ended up being a centimetre awry when he'd flinched upon one of your contractor's associates unknowingly came close to him with their flailing shots. Yet, those were margins you didn't have.
Rather than a hole piercing the line right above the Soldier's mask. It clipped his hair. And that was all he needed to know he wasn't the only hunter in the field.
Out of everyone, your first and single mistake had been when facing the Winter Soldier.
Facing him may be an exaggeration. But seeing how he was as good as they come, the silencer on your sniper didn't help when he'd been able to calculate which direction the bullet had come from and thus finding you behind the gun.
You didn't need more than to see his masked face turn towards you whilst looking into the scope of your rifle to know he'd spotted you. Those eyes, hidden beneath his mask like the rest of his face, made you urgent to escape the building you'd been perched upon.
Fuck, the Winter Soldier had seen you.
You quickened your tempo, feeling your rifle bump harshly against your backside from how the bag you slung over your shoulder jostled for each step you took. You'd already tugged on a jumper over your shirt and flung the cap you'd worn someplace when you'd hurried down the fire escape. Not knowing nor caring where it ended up.
The moment you hit the ground, you'd pulled up the hood of your jumper. And though it bought you some time, in the end, you knew it would be worthless to try and blend in with the crowd. Because if the Soldier even had gotten the slightest sight of what you wore, he would find you and if it so happened to be in the sea of people, you didn't hesitate that he would pull the trigger anyway.
Despite your primal instinct repeating 'safe in masses', you didn't weave through the crowd to reach your location quicker because you knew it would make the Soldier's job more difficult if he couldn't spot you directly. So you kept your head down, attempting to look around you with nothing more than glances which could pass off as any civilian watching their surroundings.
Yet, you couldn't catch even the tiniest of glimpses of him. Not even a shadow shifting in the corner of your eyes. Maybe that was why you felt a keen need to get to the apartment the company contracting you had suggested renting in a remote part of the town, gather the few things you needed and leave.
But for some reason, as you moved through the mass of people -your pace not frowned upon as everyone tried to get somewhere as soon as possible- it didn't feel like someone hunted you, seeing how no shiver of an unconscious knowledge that someone followed you erupted. Not even a building unease that stemmed from sensing how somebody watched you.
But you knew the Russian ghost was somewhere. If not on your heels, then at a vantage point to follow you unnoticed. That was why you knew, as soon as you entered the apartment complex, you didn't have much time to get in and get out before the Soldier figured out where you stayed.
When finally parting from the crowd and entering the motel, you rushed up the stairs rather than taking the elevator, breath pushing from your lungs in a ragged manner. You tried to ease the sound as you opened the door to the fifth floor and jogged down the corridor, only stopping once to unlock the door to your room. But that was when you froze.
You held your breath.
Someone was here.
No one was sitting on the couch. Nor by the table in the kitchen area. But there was no doubt. Something felt wrong.
It was silent and none of the few windows was ajar. Still, the air wasn't the same as when you left earlier. It wasn't purely because your heart was still racing. You could sense how someone disturbed the air by purely breathing.
You let out the air you'd kept in your lungs as you stepped over the threshold, silencing your breathing as much as possible whilst pulling your rifle bag from your shoulder and silently putting it on the floor right by the entrance. One hand sneaked beneath your jumper and grasped the gun you always had for safety strapped around your torso. Raising it, you slowly closed the door before continuing into the apartment.
The hair on your body stood as soon as you did. Now the feeling that had been absent swept over you in full force.
You felt the gaze upon you so clearly, but the moment you shifted to where the heavy stare came from, it switched places. It felt like you were going crazy, paranoia gripping you in its fearful clutch. Thus wherever your eyes flickered, nothing was there, even if you could've sworn on it. And then, a sudden gleam of metal shimmered in the edge of your vision.
Lightning-fast you spun around. Not hesitating on pulling the trigger as you did.
Your instinct hadn't lied. Seeing how the Winter Soldier now emerged from the dark. However, what made your jaws clench, was that the bullet from your silenced gun didn't hit him, not because you would've missed this time. One of his arms was metal. Gleaming and with a red star on it. And with it, he'd deflected the bullet heading for his chest.
You had no time to reflect over the bullet, now buried in the wall, as he stalked forwards. Instead, you fired another two shots as you backed away. Both deflected similarly to the first one.
Your heart switched from beating steady and heavy in your chest from running to plunging into short and sharp taps as your eyes widened, following the Soldier as he advanced towards you like bullets didn't hail over him. Maybe he found your attempt of putting one in him arduous because as soon as he was close enough, he ripped the gun from your hand.
It flew across the room and crinkled to pieces because of the strength in his cybernetic arm. Still, you had no time to marvel at the fascinating weapon the gleaming piece of metal connected to him was. Thus now, it came towards you.
You tried to move faster, rip the knife you always carried as a last resort on your forearm from its sheet. Though it quickly became meaningless, seeing how, with an inhuman speed, those cold digits wrapped around your throat.
As he drove you into the wall, your head whipped backwards with enough force that silvery stars danced wherever your wide-eyed gaze flickered.
You groaned, attempting to raise your hand and spear the metal arm pinning you in place. But the Soldier was faster, way too fast. The knife barely left your side before his flesh hand gripped your wrist and pinned it against the wall.
There was no question that his strength wasn't solely contained to his prosthetic, seeing how the power he'd immobilised your hand with was enough for it to twitch open and the blade clatter to the ground.
Although your advantages were few, perhaps even none existing, you held something over him now. His hands were occupied by pinning you in place, meaning you still had one unrestricted.
You tried to use all those dirty tricks pure life and death situations brought. You attempted to find a soft spot on his arm, but the metal was solid and only whirred beneath your grabbing. Then you tried to pull at the brown and jagged hair hanging as curtains around that masked face. However, reading your intention when your hand shot forth, the Winter Soldier moved his head out of your reach.
You couldn't reach those dark locks to yank at them. But there was still something within reach.
Not anticipating what you would do next upon your failure, the Soldier was too late to move away from your fingers dragging down his face.
Your nails scraped downwards, forming red marks in their wake. The angry red lines started at the line of his hair and trailed down to his glasses. When they hit the fabricated edge, you were determined to continue your painting, so you buried your fingers underneath their hem and yanked.
The protection once separating his and your eyes fell to the ground.
You tried to get further, not only with your nails over his skin so it wouldn't only be his gaze meeting meet yours, but his whole face. Although, as your hand dropped, it wasn't to continue where you left off nor tug off the remaining piece of his mask. It was to the tightening hold around your throat, cutting the oxygen to your lungs.
Desperation urged your action of clawing his hand. You knew it would be useless because this wasn't an arm of flesh and blood. It couldn't feel pain. This was metal. Strong and non-human, creating more pain in you than its owner as your nails caught in the small gaps between plates.
The killing strike was here, you thought. When the hunter came too close to his prey. Still, it wasn't with fear you watched him when your gaze flickered up to meet his. It was anger.
For a few seconds, time froze as his eyes held yours.
Blue, cold and lifeless eyes had no mercy as they met yours. They were piercing in a haunting and detached way. It didn't feel like it was a human looking at you. It felt like it was a machine.
Your vision blurred when your chest started to convulse. Body screaming for air. Still, you tried maintaining eye contact with the Soldier until your eyes slowly started to drop.
But then, seconds before you plunged into complete darkness, before you went under the surface of a silent and waterless sea... the grip around your throat eased.
The breath you sucked in was almost so hard it hurt your lungs. You hadn't even noticed your head tipped forwards. Nonetheless, it shot upwards as life now returned to your body.
With eyes wide open as you hungrily sucked fresh air down your throat, you found the Winter Soldier had adverted his eyes. However, as they found yours again, he didn't look at you with the same expression as earlier. Now his brows were furrowed.
Something about the action brought back his humanity, maybe from how something passed his gaze momentarily. You had no idea what it was, nor could you figure it out as you got something else to focus on.
"кто послал вас?" Even if you hadn't seen his mouth move, his rough voice was hard to miss. Perhaps a combination of the mask still hiding his lower face and how he hadn't used it recently.
"English only", you breathed, seeing how the foreign words carried no meaning to you even if you understood they had been a question. His head tipped to the side and you saw the muscles in his temples work. You don't know what he was doing, at least not until you heard him speak and realised he'd tested the words on his tongue before saying them aloud.
"Who sent you?" A Russian accent tinted the sentence. Still, the intonation wasn't as heavy as someone native to a Slavic language. There was a distinctiveness to how he spoke for someone with English as their native language, meaning that the Winter Soldier didn't have his origin from the east as the rumour had it.
"Someone that doesn't fancy getting shot", his eyes narrowed, possibly thinking back to his target. If he were even half as much of a machine as you thought, he wouldn't know much about the person he would eliminate, just their name and how they looked. Like you, honestly.
"Do you work for them?" You quirked a brow in an answer, but it seemed the Soldier wasn't one to play by any book by his, seeing how he instantly suppressed your air supply to the barest minimum.
"For now", you said through gritted teeth, feeling his fingers stop pressing as harshly as they'd done moments earlier.
"Contractor". You didn't know the meaning of his gruff huff, but you would get an explanation quickly as he leant in close. "Your current one is dead. I have people who want you".
Though his breath didn't fan across your face, you felt it seep through the vents on his mask. Up close, there was almost something animalistic behind his eyes and that was when you realised it. The Winter Soldier was nothing more than a dog on a leash for an unknown party. So, the words he spoke weren't his own.
"I don't want to work for your handlers". You suspected those who held the Soldier's leash were the same people wanting to hire you for whatever work they meant. But though you were in a shady business, you had some backbone to always request a one-and-done contract. Freedom, in other words. And you knew whoever he worked for wouldn't take kindly on that particular request. Not when staring at the Soldier you now knew had none.
"Why don't you join? They know everything about you". You'd thought about stepping over a line you couldn't come back from. You really had, but not only did the virtuous side always pay better -both for your actions and silence- but they also hid your identity. They didn't want to get themselves caught with red lining the ground their company stood on and knowing you were the person who could make their precious empire fall, they wanted you to be silent and invisible.
You'd been close to dying and the Soldier was still in control of your life. Nevertheless, you sneered at the thought of him attempting to persuade you to consider joining his side.
Knowing that you would rather die with your pride intact than work for his handlers, you spat at his boots.
Irritation flared in his light blue eyes, setting them on fire.
He let go of your wrist and tugged you forward with his metal arm so you could feel his harsh breaths through his mouth-cover as he stared down at you.
"плохой ход", he growled, fingers pressing into the sides of your throat again, a threat he could finish what he earlier hadn't.
Upon the reminder that if he merely wanted to, he could take your life like water smithing a flame, you struggled against him. His cold eyes watched you for barely a second, seemingly enough for him to recognise the blaze of defiance in your eyes but not enough for your fingers nor nails to reach him once more concerning how he swiftly spun you around.
His metal arm shifted its grip to clutch your neck, making you feel like an animal being held by the scruff off its neck. His other hand collected your wrists behind your back. Nonetheless, it felt like you could wrestle yourself out of this hold. At least your estimated your ods as better when your hunter couldn't simply tighten his finger to cut your airflow. But as if the Soldier could read your mind, your body was soon pressed to the wall.
Even if you weren't wrestling on the ground and he could utilise his larger body to pin you down solely with his weight, you somehow felt that was the case anyways. You could barely do more than furiously attempt to dig your nails into his hand and wriggle against the firm body aiming and succeeding too well to immobilise you.
It barely felt like he struggled to keep you under wraps while you snarled in frustration as nothing seemed to work to even move the Soldier.
"Your choice", he began, voice unhumanly even. "Join or-". You'd struggled against him, not thinking what your squirming could lead to, at least not until the Soldier behind you cut himself off with a hiss, his gloved fingers reactively digging into the muscle in your neck.
It sounded like you'd burned him while his body grew rigid, almost as if frostbit stiffened his limbs, but neither had happened. What happened, however, was that you'd accidentally pushed your ass straight into his crotch.
You don't know why, but your breath caught as a sudden new tension entered the air. It was something about the Soldier stilling until it felt like another wall was pressed against your back. And then, when he finally moved, you froze, body locking as you went into shock, a sensation that you would start retching skyrocketed together with your pulse and threatened to destroy your eardrums. In any other case, you would've thought it was from the adrenaline plunging, but if anything, it surged once more.
The hand earlier clamping down on your wrists curled over your hip. And almost experimentally, the Soldier rolled his hips into yours.
Your eyes widened as you tried to look at him to see if he truly was doing what you thought he was, but even if you managed to twist your head, you couldn't see much more than his brown locks in your peripheral.
But you didn't need to see what he did as you could feel it.
Once again, he rocked his body into yours, and you gasped, but not in pleasure. It was something between horror and shock. The Soldier you earlier had glared at was a machine. He didn't feel wired for this. And yet, he rolled his hips into you again -now at an angle upwards, lifting you slightly off your feet- causing your heart to hammer in your chest.
Your breath stuttered, heart jumping unregulated as you wriggled, but it did little to help you. Thus, it only spurred the Soldier on.
"Is this how you lose your claws, котенок?" You'd never heard a taunt that sounded this detached from a teasing lilt, nor a word that you somehow felt was so familiar despite not being said in your language.
"N-no!" He doesn't answer your objection, only presses his hips against your ass until you're entirely pushed up on your toes this time.
"руки на стене", you bite back a pained whimper as the hand on your neck forces your cheek further against the wall. "руки на стене", he repeated the phrase, accentuating each word carefully this time. Regardless, you didn't understand his command until his flesh hand gripped one of your hands and smacked it against the sleek surface of the wall harshly enough your palm stung. With a slight tremble, you raised your other, pressing it as flat against the surface as the other.
His hand leave yours and the next place he's pressing it into is your crotch. There's nothing gentle about how he does it. No trail down your body with his fingertips, no he cups your heat without warning, palm pushed against your clit as the pads of his fingers seek to bend the seem of your tactical pants as far inwards towards your pussy as possible.
You let out a sound you don't want to admit... is a moan. Even if it's a surprised one. The Winter Soldier can't make you feel good. He'd had you an inch of your life a few minutes ago and how he touched you now was no less gentle. And yet... you fought the need to remain still when he circled his fingers.
You don't only imagine tasting metal when you bit down on your inner cheek to keep quiet, not in fear of anyone else hearing what he was doing to you, but rather the Soldier right behind you doing so. There was no way in hell that he could know -despite having fought him with the dirtiest tricks in the books moments earlier- his deft touch made warmth swirl in your stomach.
"Why so silent?" He leaned closer, enough for his hair to brush against your neck. It tickled, but the sensation faded compared to his fingers curling further into your heat, causing your eyes to press tightly shut.
"котенок...", his voice dipped into something new as he spoke, something the Soldier shouldn't be able to reach. Attempting to hide the shiver running down your spine, you struggle against him again, though there's little you can do to push him off when he still has you on your toes.
Despite your hope flickering if you would get out of this situation, you push against the wall in one last attempt.
You'd prayed you could challenge his balance, but the ever calculating Soldier braced against your efforts and soon, you feel a hand against your neck again.
Even if it's his flesh hand, the way his gloved fingers dig into it is as forceful as the cybernetic arm trailing down your side and settling over the curve of your ass.
"You disappoint me", he breathed against your neck as the fingers of his metal hand grip the fabric of your pants, ripping them with a swift yank, bearing your ass to the chilled room. "Where has your fight gone?" You move your hips when he reaches forth, trying to stop him from making the tear it into an even larger hole. But you're reminded how human you are compared to the Winter Soldier because your struggles do little to stop his action.
A puff of cold air hits your cunt as he tears your trousers close to shreds. "Fuck you", you sneer through your teeth, pressing your legs together to not feel as exposed. Instead of verbally answering, the Soldier forces his hand in-between your legs, inserting a few fingers beneath your panties before harshly tugging the material upwards.
The sharp sting that forces you to rise even further on your feet to ease the sensation feeling like a rope running from your ass and all the way to your clit makes you yelp.
You feel a rumble against your back before he releases the grip, much to your relief, though it's short-lived.
As he sneaks his fingers in between your folds, you start at the feeling of such a foreign thing as metal being coated in a wetness you hadn't realised drenched your underwear. It's cold, contrasting heavily to the heat he moves his fingers through. And yet, how unfamiliar it ever may be, it feels good.
A shiver runs through your body and you close your eyes, feeling a tear slip down your cheek as you will yourself not to believe he's making you this aroused.
"I'm gonna kill you", you snarl at him, attempting to convince yourself that your writhing isn't slowly changing from an attempt at breaking free to chasing the pleasure building in your body. "Give me a fucking butter knife and I'll do it".
"So why are your hands still on the wall?" His reminder dawns on you a minute too late.
Instead of ripping your hands from the wall and going against his earlier command of keeping them there, you move them downwards, not more than an inch, before he presses you flat against the wall by stepping into you. He traps your arms in a partly awkward position in which they follow the outline of your body enough your hands curls into fists and you can't push away from the wall.
Still, the hand buried in your panties move to grip one of your wrists in an iron grip, coating some of your slick against your exposed skin.
As the Soldier bends it backwards, you wince at the angle but have no choice but to obey the way he directs you.
Surprisingly, he settles your hand over his thigh. "I've had a knife here all the time, котенок", he says, forcing your hand against the outline of his thigh strap where you feel a knife handle. Now his crushing grips make even more sense. He's stopping you from being able to close your hand without it hurting you, therefore also preventing you from stealing his weapon. "But you didn't even try to reach for it".
You curse him. You can hear yourself doing it in the distance. You don't know which words you use or how you use them. You only know you spit all thinkable things at him as your mind tries to understand just how you hadn't noticed something so evident as the knife strapped to his thigh. In any other case, you would've remarked it early on, knowing you could use it to your advantage. But you hadn't.
"Such dirty words", he grunted in your ear, hooking his arm in the crook of both of yours to bend them backwards, bringing you slightly off the wall but pinned to his chest.
You wished you could curse at him in Russian, spit back the damned language of the ghost from the east, the one he used to order you with. But you don't get a chance. Not to speak the language you wouldn't be able to either way. No, you don't get a chance to say anything.
While you'd sucked air into your lungs and opened your mouth to let words hail over him again, the Soldier took advantage of his hands' positioning after releasing yours. He slipped his hand between your breast and upwards until he shoved his fingers into your mouth.
A gruff moan escapes you, eyes widening upon feeling the cold and heavy weight of his metal fingers part your lips and rest heavily on your tongue.
"That's what I want to hear". The Soldier's fingers play with your tongue, filling your mouth with the taste of your own arousal. You know why he switched to his metal hand for this. It would hurt you more than him if you bit down on them, which both of you knew you would've if it had been flesh parting your lips. "Suck". He pushes his fingers against your tongue, but you don't move, at least not more than to shake your head.
His body stiffens and he breaths out heavily enough for a slight wheezing sound to escape the filters of his mask.
He repositions your arms until they're crossed behind your back. Before you can move, he pushes himself against you and into the wall, pinning your arms in place. It's uncomfortable, your shoulders are straining and the metal arm pressed into the space between your breasts as his fingers push down on your tongue sit awkwardly against your breastbone and ribcage.
But it's forgotten when his free hand forces itself between your body and wall and goes straight down to your exposed heat. You protest, but with the digits in your mouth, it escapes you in a string of muffled noises.
You can't help the shudder running through your body as he circles your clit. Neither how your hips buck towards his cupped hand when he pushes two fingers into your weeping hole.
It feels even worse when it's his flesh hand because it doesn't feel like the Soldier pumping in and out of your as his palm grinds against your clit in a way that makes something in your lower stomach tingle. It could be anyone. Only that it isn't. It's the Winter Soldier causing your body to writhe and a flare of white-hot pleasure to suddenly blind you.
Your orgasm comes suddenly, shocking even you, as your body locks up and clamps down on the fingers continuing to work in and out of you, consequently prolonging the pleasure sweeping through your body.
His fingers leave your mouth, a thin string of saliva following them until it breaks and hits the skin beneath your chin. Not until his hand settles on your throat do you realise it's because your head tipped backwards to rest upon his shoulder.
"хороший котенок", his deep voice is an echo in your ear and you know you would've felt his lips against yours if the dual sensation of sharp plastic and the metal lining of his face covering wouldn't have pushed into your cheek.
You feel weak, a softness entering your body as you finally settle. But you're given no time to completely wrap your head around the fact that the Winter Soldier just made you cum. Not when his fingers slip out of your cunt with a rush of wetness following and drenching you even further, enough for your upper thighs to feel sticky. A move closely followed by him putting some space between the two of you, causing your arms to slip forth of their own accord before the uncharacteristically loud sound of a zipper follows.
You'd been taking deep breaths to stabilise the erratic jump of your heart, but it catches when you feel the tip of his steely length brush against your fold. Your throat constricts around the word no as he doesn't waste any time running his cock through your wet folds but simply enters you with a snap of his hips.
The moment froze for just a few seconds while the sting of his forceful entering bled into a heavy fullness. The Soldiers chest rose and fell quickly against your backside. His fingers curled into your hip, forcing the flesh to form after his imprints. At least until they reached your hipbone.
He has you arching against him, directing you to reach deeper within you as the metal around your throat became vice-like as he kept your head bent backwards, causing your stuttering breaths to wisp straight upwards.
He mumbled things beneath his breath. Russian and English words breathed like a dog's growl. Bouncing against his mask only to reach your skin as vibrations. The shifting between languages made his voice gruffer as both accents bled into their non-matching counterpart.
When he finally pulled his hips back and buried himself deep again, a collective groan left the two of you. The next time he pulled back, it wasn't a slow roll that he entered you with but a snap of his hips.
You couldn't hold back your moans even if you wanted to. The way he fucked you should feel dirty, his sloppy and erratic thrust shouldn't make your jaw slacken and your body fall further against him. They shouldn't make you feel good. Yet they do. His rough touch awakens something primal inside you.
You claw your thighs as there isn't much else you can reach, without a doubt engraving crescent moons in your skin even through your pants. But it isn't enough. You need to feel more of the Soldier than his erratic thrusts breaking you apart.
Writhing against him further excels your pleasure and pulls a whine from you as your wandering hands attempt to find any part of him. A growl, trying to scare you off from making too much resistance, vibrates against your back as he curls himself around you and speeds up his thrusts.
"Please". The word is broken as each snap of the Soldiers hips punches your breath out of you. "Please", you beg again, an equal unconscious frustration at what he'd reduced you to and desperation to touch him.
He doesn't answer and so, deeming that you would get a warning if you did something he didn't like, your hands sneak towards the first best part of him, which turns out to be his metal arm. One hand closes around his forearm, the other his wrists, and your body eases at having something to ground yourself against. But it doesn't last long, not when he squeezes the fingers around your throat, cutting off your much-needed air supply, just seconds after.
Although, compared to earlier, you don't struggle. Even if you squirm against the Soldier, you don't try to force his hand away. And he must realise that when your body falls against his with eyes closed and your lips parted without any sounds escaping it, you're not touching him in an attempt to break free.
He flexes his fingers to their previous state of simply keeping you still. But brings you further away from the wall and more into him.
You feel him ploughing in and out of you and on a significantly harder thrust, he follows it up with a dirty grind of his hips, causing you to whine and push back against him while your cunt squeeze around him.
"Good God", he groans as you all but assume his head dropped close to the shell of your ear. "Feels like heaven", he grunts with yet another roll of his hips. Yes, yes, heaven, hell, whatever. Your brain is a scrambled mess, thoughts barely straight enough you can make sense of them as you moan unabashedly at what feels like sin dripping from his lips.
You can't fathom how he feels so warm all of a sudden. How the Soldier feels like a man behind you, his words so rich and at the loss of every chill they'd carried earlier. He feels like a human and when the flesh hand on your hip sneaks downwards, fingers finding the opening in your pants and your clit at the top of your slit, a mumbled 'cum for me, doll' you all but forget who's behind you.
You have no control over your body as it convulses, pleasure ripping you into pieces. The only thing keeping you from wriggling away from the man behind you is his metal hand slipping down to anchor over your breasts and his palm pushing against your mound to keep you grounded against his relentless thrusting.
His fingers still reach your slit and he takes full advantage of having access to your clit to prolong your peak and how you flutter around him. Even if your hands have fallen to the wall, they do little to hold you up. So for a moment, when you're thighs are quivering enough your muscles can't keep you upright, he manages to do so by gripping your hips.
He slams himself as deep as possible a few times more before slipping out of you so hastily that your slick trickles out of you. His grunt is blended with a moan. Either at the loss of your heat or in pleasure. Seeing how he drives his cock between your ass cheeks, pulling your hips against his, over and over, before only his hips move jerkily and he paints your lower back in ropes of cum.
You arch against him, taking in the sensation of his softening cock and his spend trickling down in-between your cheeks and the way his fingers flex over your hips at your action. But that is all you get in-between heavy breaths as he abruptly rips himself away from you. And shortly after, you hear him sip his trousers.
When he doesn't dwell in the same post-orgasmic softness that settled in your bones, you were once more reminded that it wasn't any man behind you and that you shouldn't be surprised about his actions. And yet, you were. You were surprised he'd let himself give in to his pleasure, how human he'd seemed to have gotten, even now when he ran his metal hand up your backside, a few fingers tracing your skin.
And then, you weren't as surprised anymore, not when the air so tangibly shifted and, instead of caressing your skin, his hand travelled upwards until it nestled against your neck, fingers curling further than comfortable beneath your ears on either side.
The Soldier proved, then and there, how much warmth he would ever be exposed to and whatever fidget of your imagination thought he'd radiated some too... he would always remain the Winter Soldier.
"I've found you, котенок", he said. And then, there was silence.
Silence, once again silence, a silence solely the Russian ghost could create when he still stood close enough you could feel the heat of his body. A silence to let his word sink in.
When he finally released you and silently stepped away, you didn't spin around to witness him disappear in the quickly dawning sun. You stayed pressed to the wall, hands curling into fists as your forehead dropped to the cheap paint.
The Soldier had found you and he would never lose you. That was what he'd meant. The Winter Soldier had caught your scent like a bloodhound and would never forget what you smelled like. He'd decided to spare your life just to haunt you instead. Until you chose to work with him rather than against him, you would never see him, but know he always watched you.
You hadn't gazed into his eyes when he forced you to succumb to him, nor when he painted you in ropes of cum. But there was no need to have done that when you would remember that steely gaze behind closed eyes.
Translations:
кто послал вас? - Who sent you?
руки на стене - Hands on the wall.
котенок - Kitten
плохой ход - Bad move
хороший котенок= Good kitten.
#winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#bucky barns x reader#bucky x reader smut#winter soldier smut#winter soldier x reader smut#fanfic#fanfiction#MCU fanfiction#MCU fic#bucky smut#winter soldier x reader tw#advent calender 2021
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Egotober Day 15: Strong
Strength came in many forms, not just physicality. Strength of character, of heart was just as important. Being a hero, Jackie had strength in spades. But it was times like this that tested it, as he stared unflinchingly up into toxic green from where he was holding up the wall of a building to let the inhabitants get outside.
He should’ve known Anti would show up, he always did when there was trouble or things had been too calm. The hero had to grit his teeth in a low growl as the glitch’s face twisted with that demented Cheshire grin of his and he giggled.
“Having a bit o’ trouble hero?~”
Jackie huffed out a breath and he bit his tongue, as much as he wanted to snap at Anti he had more important things to worry about right now. He felt the integrity of the wall crumbling more under his hold, more weight added onto his arms. He exhaled as he heard the bricks hit the ground, the startled shrieks of the crowd from the impacts. The sound of the rescue workers rushing as fast and safe as they could inside to get the civilians out.
He tensed, hair rose on the back of his neck as he heard crackling electricity close to his ear. He shuddered and felt his heart pick up in adrenaline fueled nerves as claws curled around one shoulder.
“Ignorin me now are we? Tsk, tsk, tsk~ Ye know t’at’s a bad idea Jackieboy….I t’ought ye had learned by now. Might have to teach ya anot’er lesson.”
Jackie felt bile crawl up his throat and resisted the urge to gag at the thought of another ‘lesson’. The last one had left him coughing up blood and his ribcage ached in phantom pain. He didn’t move, he didn’t acknowledge Anti. He couldn’t afford to have his focus split-pain lanced down one arm as those deadly claws sunk into his shoulder.
He grit his teeth as muscles spasmed and tightened, he held back the instinct to twist his arm to dislodge them. He dug his fingers into brick and mortar instead in an attempt to stay singular focused. The glitch hummed, the sound brought a smirk to the hero’s mind as the only kind of warning he got.
Then everything lit up in white hot agony.
Jackie clenched his jaw as tight as he could not to scream, his body wanted to convulse but he didn’t let it. He held himself in position as the wall creaked and groaned, bricks tumbled down around him onto the street. His heart skipped beats and stuttered in his chest as his ears rang with the sound of harsh static mixed with panicked screams, the racing footsteps in the building. He felt like his teeth would crack under the pressure as the voltage amped up in response.
Anti didn’t want his attention on anything else but the pain, but him as he struggled to keep his hands still. He couldn’t falter, he couldn’t let go, he had to be strong. His vision swam and began to blur, thoughts fuzzed and tormented. The hero didn’t know how long he could take this, the pain just kept coming and it increased with every second that passed- the force of nature hissed smugly against his skin like it read his mind.
“I can stop Jackie, make all t’e pain go away~ All ye gotta do is one little thing~”
Anything, he’d do anything if it meant the pain stopped. There was a pleased hum that brought to mind a cat with prey before a twisted croon against his ear.
“Say my name Jackieboy~ Say my name and it stops~”
Jackie barely remembered his own name, he couldn’t think- the pain was so bad. His muscles locked in place from his stubbornness not to move, not to scream. His senses all transmitted suffering, torment, the crackling and hissing of the lightning the only sound he heard above his own heartbeat. The hero couldn’t focus…everything started to dim. His eyes fluttered and he caught a flash of feral, wicked neon green…he felt a hand on his cheek, claws softly traced his face and teased the edges of his mask. It felt like his mouth moved on its own and his voice forced itself out barely above a breath. Only heard between the two of them.
“Anti.…”
The pain stopped instantly, he started to sway midair as his body began to go limp. The wall crumbled and collapsed against his body and he hit the street hard, unable to hold himself up. As Jackie slid into the darkness of unconsciousness there was a chuckle among the shouting of civilians and workers who scrambled to his side to tend to him.
“Sleep well hero, see you soon~”
#Jackieboy Man#Homemade Hero#Antisepticeye#Glitch Demon#Jacksepticeye Ego#Jacksepticeye Fandom#Fanfic#South Writes#Egotober 2023#Did I *have* to make this one have hints of Hero/Villain?#No I didn’t but you can’t tell me that it wouldn’t be like this#So you can either read this as ship or in a classic villain and hero look#Either way is valid!#I can see this being a case of#‘He is my rival only *I* get to mess with him and hurt him/he’s *mine* to fight no one else gets involved’#Jackie is a hero in all the ways you see from superhero media#Stubborn determined good hearted beyond self sacrificing and tired#Anti likes to use that against him when he pushes at those morals of his#that strength Jackie carries that he wants to break through#As another way to put it Jackie is ‘stubborn himbo and sunshine’ and Anti is ‘Don’t you just wanna go apeshit?’ in response XD#And yes he’s fine! he gets to a hospital and has to endure Henrik’s worried lecturing while he heals#Electrocution TW#Torture TW
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Scars
This was prompted by seemingly nothing but it's the first productive thing my brain has done it a while so here
“What’s the craziest scar you have?” Wind asked randomly one night.
The other heroes stopped what they were doing and looked to each other. Blue in all shades, and one set of hazel, flashed in the firelight as a few smiles formed and others smirked.
Four motioned to their left ear. “A cat bit off the tip of my ear when I was a kid.”
Warriors spun in his seat to look at the smithy at his side, “Is that why you hate cats?”
“Yep.”
Well that made sense. It also explained Four’s issue with people talking about claws. Wind had noticed that Four tended to shiver when those were brought up and he’d always sort of wondered.
Time holds up his hand, on the outer side of it a small pink scar can be seen, one which most of them tended to gloss over but Wind had always assumed was because the man nicked himself with his sword once or something. “My mom bit me when I was a kid.”
Faces fall and the heroes stare in shock and horror until Hyrule kicks their leader. “Your mother was a fairy, Time! How else was she to discipline you?”
The man smiles but pulls his hand back, eye sparkling at their still frozen faces.
Twilight hums softly. “I had my arm chopped off once.”
All eyes instantly turn the rancher’s way. He still has his arm. Both of them. “When did that happen and how do you still have it?”
A shrug. “A goat put it back. Scars still there though. It’s weird, sometimes I get phantom pains ‘spite still havin’ my arm. My brain just can’t process that it’s s’posed to be there or somethin’.”
Warriors nods slowly. “Mood. I almost lost my leg during the war and I still have to remind myself it’s there sometimes.”
Well, this is going downhill fast! He wanted to prompt some stories! Not a trauma fest!
Wind shoots a look at Legend, the man usually has something to say at times like these, but the vet just stares back and shakes his head slowly. “Nothing interesting, sorry, sailor. Not the kind of stories you’re looking for.”
Poop. Maybe Wild then?
The champion chuckles, rolling up one sleeve to show a rather impressive scar on his good arm. “See this?”
“How could we not?” The captain grimaces, looking more than a bit pained.
Wild smirks. “Splinter.”
Eyes widen and gazes trail back to the rather massive scar.
“How big of a splinter?” Legend asks warily.
The champion doesn’t answer, he just rolls his sleeve back down and gets back to doodling in one of his notebooks, looking entirely pleased with himself.
“Champion, how big?” Warriors presses.
Wild still doesn’t answer, he doesn’t even react and though Wind is dying to know he could also kiss his brother on the cheek for helping to lighten the mood again and playing coy the way he is.
The rest of them huff, exchanging glances (and grins in Time’s case) and start discussing quietly among themselves. He knows he hears Warriors trying to calculate how big the thing must have been and Hyrule correcting him softly about whatever mathematical formula or nonsense they’re trying to use. Sticks are grabbed from the woodpile and the dirt is etched over several times before the captain caves and darts for his own bag and notebook.
The rest of them watch, both entertained and intrigued by the answer, and it’s quiet in camp for a moment before Legend breaks it with a drawl. “Surprised the old man didn’t say he got scarred with a sliver of the moon or something.”
The leader’s brows twitch just the slightest bit. “And who says I didn’t? Wind asked for craziest scars, vet.”
Violet eyes twinkle slightly as Legend leans forwards, leveling their leader with a stare that’s met with equal force from the other side of the camp. The fire flickers between them, casting odd shadows and making them look quite strange indeed. “And being bitten by yer ma is the craziest you can get, Old Man?”
“I don’t hear you beating that, vet.” Time’s lips quirk upwards for all of a second before his face is blank, only his good eye flickering enough to show a slight smile.
Legend scoffs, but leans back into his own space as a few of the others giggle, Sky especially. The Chosen Hero nudges his friend gently, looking down at the vet with a teasing look. “What, you’re not going to tell them about the goat thing?”
He’s never seen Legend blush, and he almost thinks the other will, but Legend only shakes his head, smiling slightly as Twilight looks to him in confusion. “Goat thing?”
“Not explaining, rancher.”
Sky rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Fine then.” Bright eyes turn Wind’s way with a smile he loves and which holds more warmth than their fire. “Zelda accidentally stabbed me with a knife when we were kids.”
Across the fire, Warriors chokes and both he and Hyrule start up to stare at the Chosen Hero.
Sky continues, entirely clueless, or else fully aware and pretending to be clueless. “We were pretending to be sword fighting and had stollen some knives from the school kitchens. I managed to trip her, but she ended up careening forwards and stabbing me in the leg.” He chuckles. “It hurt bad, and we were grounded for weeks, but it’s only a little scar and I honestly can’t feel it most days.”
Four nods slowly, sagely. “I fractured my own ankle once trying to convince someone of something. It didn’t scar, but it sure hurt a lot.”
To his surprise, while most of the others look vaguely concerned, he knows he sees Time crack a smile and Legend sniggers a bit into his hand.
Hyrule nods though. “I once broke my leg in a keyhole. The bone cut right through and the scar is really nasty.”
That gives them all pause save Legend who jumps up with a look of horror. “Excuse me you what?”
#linkeduniverse#linked universe#lu legend#lu four#lu twilight#lu warriors#lu wild#lu time#lu hyrule#lu wind#linked universe fanfiction#idiot writes
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General predictions for Danny Phantom A Glitch on Time graphic novel
Because Danny Phantom A Glitch on Time graphic novel date release is about a month and a half away and i’m being perfectly normal about it, i want to share some theories and predictions i have for the novel story and character arcs.
So, let’s start:
1) Danny and Vlad may be the main protagonists of ¨A Glitch on Time¨
There has been multiple hints so far that indicate that these two are going to be getting the main focus of the plot.
To start with, the main antagonist of this story is Dan/Dark Danny, who we know it was created by Danny and Vlad in an alternative timeline. This alone already ties these two characters together because they can’t be separated from Dan’s creation even if it was avoided in the current timeline.
Another important hint is the cover of the graphic novel: Danny and Vlad are huge in size in comparison to Sam and Tucker who are way smaller, indicating they could have a more secondary or supportive role.
I’m not an expert in graphic design but i’m sure that the size of the characters more or less points out how important a character is going to be in a story.
What’s more, Gabriela, the author from the novel, has made a few artworks to hype the graphic novel up.
What is interesting about these artworks is the order of the characters she has drawn:
1) Danny Fenton/Phantom
2) Vlad Plasmius
3) Dan Phantom/Dark Danny
Gabriela didn’t draw Sam nor Tucker after drawing Danny despite Sam and Tucker appearing more often in the show. She drew Vlad Plasmius and Dark Danny after that.
This could further support the idea that the focus is going to be on Danny, Vlad and Dan Phantom (as main antagonist).
2) Why Vlad does know about Dan Phantom?
One of the most interesting things about the premise of ¨A Glitch In Time¨ is how Masters knows about Dark Danny when he never learned about him on canon from the series (as far as we know).
Danny Phantom takes readers on a time traveling adventure that takes place directly after the series finale with the original ghost gang: Danny Fenton and his best friends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley! When the gang starts experiences time travel glitches, Danny’s archnemesis Vlad Masters arrives on his doorstep with terrifying news: Dark Danny has escaped his prison!
How does he knows about this? Dan Phantom is from an alternative timeline and the only few that know about the event are Jazz, Sam and Tucker (you could count Jack and Maddie if Danny told them about it).
One explanation i have is that Vlad might have been involved with Dan escaping from the thermos, either intentionally or by accident. I would like to think that the second option is more likely to be true since he woke up the Ghost King in ¨Reign Storm¨ without fully thinking things through.
From there two things could have happened:
1) Vlad is working for or with Dan for unspecified reasons. He is pretending to be Danny’s ally while he is working for Dan. It isn’t out of place for Vlad to do this since he tried asking the Fright Knight a favor a few times in ¨Reign Storm¨. It would make sense to him to work out some kind of deal with Dan.
2) Dark Danny beat Vlad up and in desperation to save himself he went to Danny’s to ask for his help. Vlad has teamed up with Danny a few times in the show when facing a stronger opponent. In the episode ¨Reign Storm¨ against the Ghost King’s army and the Fright Knight and in ¨Torrent of Terror¨ against Vortex.
Both options fit with his character and would explain why he knows about who Dark Danny is.
3) Dan Phantom’s goal in the story
Based on the other part of ¨A Glitch in Time¨ premise Dan may be the reason of why the time travel glitches are happening:
Danny must then get his friends together and partner with Vlad to jump through time and space and unlock secrets of the Ghost Zone! But can they make it back to Amity Park before Dark Danny destroys the ghost gang’s entire world?
So apparently Dan Phantom’s goal in the plot is to destroy and hurt people just like he was doing in his alternative timeline, except he also appears that he is trying to mess with time and space itself because the premise mentions how the entire world could get destroyed.
Gabriela’s artwork of Dan hints that Dan could be suffering from some sort of ¨time power corruption¨. It’s possible that he absorbed part of Clockwork’ time powers.
Gabriela mentions in the same tweet that ¨Dark Danny is back and worse than ever¨, meaning that something must had happened to him that made him become more dangerous than he was.
If he is in this ¨corrupted¨ state, he couldn’t be aware of his own actions and be a lot more violent and unpredictable.
4) Jazz and Valerie’s role in the story
The ¨A Glitch in Time¨ book back cover has Jazz and Valerie going to what would be Clockwork’s tower.
I have talked about how Danny and Vlad being the main protagonists of this story makes sense since Dan is the main antagonist. Because Valerie had some importance in The Ultimate Enemy as Dark Danny’s rival in the alternative timeline, it wouldn’t be surprising if she played some supporting role in the plot.
It could be that Jazz and Valerie take part in the ¨B plot¨ of the story while Danny and the team participate in the main plot. Maybe Jazz and Valerie go to Clockwork’s tower to check out what is causing the time glitches and find Clockwork while the rest are elsewhere ¨unlocking secrets of the Ghost Zone¨.
In my personal opinion, it would be nice for Valerie to have some important character moment since her arc didn’t have a proper conclusion in the original series. Jazz could have a role helping Valerie with working with her issues since Jazz often emotionally supports other characters. It could also be interesting to see how their dynamic works considering it wasn’t explored in the original show.
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So, there you have some of my predictions. While it is rather uncertain where the story could go, these are the things that i consider that are going to happen in ¨A Glitch in Time¨.
If more information comes out, i could write a follow up to this and change some things if necessary.
#Danny Phantom#Danny phantom a glitch in time#danny fenton#Vlad Masters#Dan Phantom#valerie gray#jazz fenton#dp clockwork#dp theory
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