Jazz: And that's why we need your help in taking my brother's custody away from Vlad Masters. Two Face, former DA and NOT a family lawyer: Kid, I don't know how to tell you this... Jazz, deflating with a sad puppy look on her face: Two Face: Fuck it, where does the bastard live, kid? I'll get your brother back.

the walls you hide behind (I saw the truth inside the real you) - 7

title: the walls you hide behind (I saw the truth inside the real you)

words: 1,936

Story Summary: Jazz is tired of the ghosts, tired of her parents not doing enough, tired of Phantom's recklessness and her brother's persistent exhaustion. When she yells all of her frustration at her parents after nearly getting killed by a ghost, she gets sent to Vlad's mansion in Wisconsin for the weekend - where she's offered a chance. She could have the ability to fight back, protect her brother and her town. Jazz leaps at the prospect. When she returns to Amity Park at the end of the weekend, it's with abilities and strength of her own, and she's fueled by anger and disdain. And she's got her eyes, first, on Danny Phantom.

Chapter 7 of 10: If the Sun Grows Cold For You, If the Stars Don’t Line to Light the Way

AO3

Tumblr Chapter One

Tumblr Chapter Eight

Beta by: @probably-dead

(Also, check out the AO3 link for some really awesome art by @englandamericaitaly!)

~~~~~~

The next morning found Jazz’s headache gone and her hurrying out of the house earlier than usual. Danny didn’t need rides, clearly. He could fly and, leaving this early, she could claim she had walked.

As soon as she was clear of her house, she ducked into an alley, summoning the cool not-fabric of the suit to her skin and rose to the sky. She wondered if Danny liked flying as much as she did. She smiled beneath her mask. That wasn’t even a question.

If she knew anything about her brother, it was that he loved space and the sky and flying was definitely the superpower he’d love most to have.

She dropped down on the outskirts of the school, keeping the suit on as she looked for the sensors Jack had told her about. Most of the new, low level readings came from the right side of the school and she wanted to use the time before students started arriving to see if she could figure out what was causing the spike in activity. Her parents had said they hadn’t bothered with coming out yet because the readings were so low, they knew no one was in danger, and they didn’t want to risk alerting the ghosts to the presence of the sensors until they had perfected a containment weapon and made sure their lab was secure enough. Well, her mom explained that to her. Maddie kept having to re-explain it to Jack, that they should be absolutely sure nothing could escape, while he pouted.

Jazz walked up and down the right side of the school several times, focusing on her environment. She peeked into windows of empty rooms - several classrooms, the vice principal’s office, the guidance counselor’s office, the biology lab - but nothing stood out to her. There wasn’t so much as a buzz in her chest, like an invisible ghost would give her. She sighed, leaning against the wall.

Jazz was about to throw in the towel and get ready for school when her radar picked up two ghosts, coming in fast. She straightened up immediately, calling the hoverboard to her feet and rising above the school.

It wasn’t hard to find them, neither were being subtle - Phantom was firing blasts haphazardly at the wasp ghost that had been causing him so many problems this week.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” The wasp yelled - the first time Jazz had heard it speak. Danny didn’t say anything, sending another blast, which the wasp again dodged.

How could I have been so blind? Jazz wondered, seeing the pain flicker across Phantom’s face before anger set in, just like Danny had always done when he got scolded by their parents. Jazz flew forward, sharply cutting off the wasp ghost with a blast of her weapon.

The wasp dived, the shot soaring over his head. He glanced at her before adjusting his flight, Phantom and Jazz now shooting at him as they chased him.

“Oh, look!” The wasp taunted, his voice dripping with more mockery than venom. “The little loser ghost has a baby helper!”

The blast Danny sent after that forced Jazz to dodge as well, the shot fired in blind fury and blowing up the tree it did hit. “Do not call me a loser!” Phantom screamed, entirely ignoring Jazz’s presence.

Again, the wasp swan dived, rapidly approaching the ground. Realizing his intent, Jazz pulled up, aiming her gun and pulling the trigger. The wasp yelped in pain as she caught one of his wings, but still went intangible and disappeared below the ground. She winced as Phantom did not do the same, slamming into the ground at full speed. Jazz hopped the last couple of feet off her hoverboard, landing smoothly. Danny pushed himself to his feet, spitting out grass and rocks, his back to her. She had to fight herself to keep from reprimanding him - does he often forget enemies are near him? Just leaving himself vulnerable to an attack?

“Another ringing endorsement for the town screw-up,” Phantom muttered, rubbing his face tiredly. He turned his head to the side, not looking surprised to see the Violet Trapper behind him. Had he remembered she was there? And still left his back open? “Gonna shoot me again, Vi?” He asked, holding his arms out to either side, the ghost version of saying he was not currently armed, if she had to guess.

“No!” Escaped her mouth before she could think, the gun dissipating from her hand.

“That’s a first,” Phantom said, turning to face her, but keeping his hands held neutral. “Why?”

“The wasp ghost is the bigger problem right now,” Jazz lied. “He’s my focus.”

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” He said, shrugging, and dipped into invisibility.

Jazz sighed, grateful for the voice modulator in her suit as she hurried towards the school, ducking into a thicket of bushes and dismissing her suit.

Walking into the school, she immediately scanned for her brother, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw him leaning against the lockers and talking to his friends, seeming to watch the other students.

Jazz headed in the opposite direction, also studying the students as she moved through the halls. They did all seem to be… lethargic? She knew that spirit week never usually inspired much spirit, but it tended to raise it at least some. Was it the ghost she couldn’t find, the one that kept triggering the perimeter alerts?

As she sat in her normal seat for her first class of the day, she sighed. She’d check around the school again tonight.

The day passed slowly and with an air of increasing hopelessness. Everywhere Jazz looked, there were depressed students, meandering around with exhausted faces. The teachers, herself, Danny, and Danny’s friends seemed to be the only ones unaffected and she couldn’t figure out why.

She had just settled into the bleachers at the pep rally, when her chest suddenly burned, three ghosts rapidly appearing close by and setting her radar off.

Immediately, Jazz was up and out the gym doors, muttering an excuse about needing the bathroom as a teacher tried to question her. Once she was sure she was alone, she summoned her suit, her backpack heavy against her back.

She ran through the hall, following the tug that led her outside the gym. She heard their voices before she saw them.

“You thought you were going to stop us? You? You’re just a frightened little kid!” A voice she recognized as the wasp mocked ahead of her.

“Let go of me!” Phantom shouted. “You’re just Spectra’s snippy little assistant!”

She turned the corner just in time to see all three ghosts phase through a wall, heading outside of the school.

“Spectra?” Jazz murmured, before slapping her own forehead. Of course it was Spectra! It wasn’t a low level ghost setting off the alerts - it was a powerful one able to mask as human! She was probably why the entire student body was so depressed, too - what better way to find all the things a person hates about themselves than pretend to be the one person they could confess all of that to?

Jazz ran for the end of the hall, pushing open the door quietly to peek around the corner, only to see a black, wispy figure holding Phantom, forcing him to look through the gym windows, likely at whatever speaker they had convinced to do a speech instead of Jazz. 

“Man, I am so tired of you dumping on me,” Phantom said, grabbing at the shadowy ghost’s - Spectra’s? - wrists. “And I am so tired of dumping on myself. Jazz never did that. Even when I was mad at her…” Jazz couldn’t help but smile at his words, especially as he roughly pulled Spectra off him, slamming her to the ground. “And I won’t let her down!” He shouted, grabbing the Thermos and sucking in a green jaguar ghost that had lunged for him, who yelled with the wasp ghost’s voice.

Jazz wasn’t sure what kept her rooted to the ground where she was - if it was watching Phantom blast at Spectra and the warm sense of pride seeing her brother kick the other ghost’s butt, or if it was simply still the way he had refused to risk letting Jazz down - but whatever it was, it kept her there - behind them, half hidden behind a door, still clad in the purple suit.

“You’re through!” Spectra screeched, lunging for Danny, who deftly dodged.

“And you are done telling me what to do!” He yelled back, grabbing at the wisp of her tail as she flew past him, swinging her around and directly into a dumpster.

Spectra was visibly seething as she rose from the trash, again launching herself at him, feinting to one side, but changing direction at the last second so she could grab him as he again dodged. He tried to point the Thermos at her, but she grabbed him by his face, slamming his back against the wall and slapping the Thermos out of his hand.

“What are you?” Spectra asked mockingly. “A ghost trying to fit in with humans? Or some creepy little boy with creepy little powers?”

“Both! Uh, neither! I don’t know!” He shouted, struggling in her grip.

Protective rage surged through Jazz. No one talked to her brother like that. No one.

And right now, it wasn’t the Violet Trapper that was needed. She dismissed the suit, dropping her backpack and grabbing the Fenton Peeler as Spectra continued to lay into her brother.

“You’re a freak! Not a ghost, not a boy! Who cares for a thing like you?” She asked, releasing him as she blasted at the same time. Danny dropped to the ground, visibly disoriented.

“Excuse me,” Jazz said, finally stepping out from behind the door. No, the Trapper wasn’t needed. But Danny’s big sister was. “I don’t know this kid, but I hope it’s okay if he gets a second opinion.” She raised the Peeler as Phantom looked on her in surprise. The Peeler’s armor encased her, exceedingly cumbersome in comparison to her normal suit, and she fired, Spectra’s form peeling away - first the dark shadowy form fading to reveal the human form Jazz had become familiar with then continuing to rip layers away, until all that was left was a woman who looked ancient.

“Talk about having nothing within,” Danny muttered as Spectra began to freak out, crying about her youth, too busy panicking to notice him grab the Thermos and suck her into it. Jazz deactivated the Peeler, letting the armor retract, grinning at Phantom.

He looked at her, uncertainty and hope written plainly across his face. “Uh…”

“Oh, uh,” she answered, morphing her face into one of laughably fake fear and flailing her arms slightly. “Ahhh. A ghost!” She said, running to the door, though she smiled at him as she paused. “You’d better go. There’s perimeter alerts.” And then she was back inside, pulling the door closed behind her. He hurried away after that, before disappearing entirely from her senses, likely transformed back to human. “He can tell me when he’s ready.”

Jazz stared at her hands, flexing them slightly, feeling the rush of the machines in her blood. She had messed up as the Trapper for so long. She’d unknowingly doubted her brother, hurt him, caused him pain he didn’t deserve. It was time for her to make things right, to show Danny he could trust his sister.

…and for now, she’d keep her secret close to her chest, too, or else he never would.

Dark Danny Should’ve Come Back at Least Once

I think most of the Phandom can agree that The Ultimate Enemy was one of the best Danny Phantom episodes ever made, and for good reason. It was incredibly dark of a kid’s cartoon, especially one made by Bitch Hartman, and on top of that, it provided some very interesting lore and characters. We get to see Danny pushed to his absolute emotional limit in a way that I don’t think the show ever did before, save maybe for My Brother’s Keeper in season 1, and we get our first glimpse at Clockwork, who thanks to @five-rivers fanfic Mortified, has become one of my favorite DP characters. And of course, we get to see Dark Danny, or Dan.

But there’s one little thing about this episode that’s always bothered me: the very ending.

Because at the very end of TUE, we get a shot of the Fenton thermos that Dan is sealed away in rocking back and forth, before Dan’s face forms a massive dent in the side, his laughter echoing as the screen fades to the end credits.

You would think, with an ending like that, that Dan would come back in a later episode. That he would return in the series finale is this last big bad, this final demon for Danny to confront once and for all. 

But that’s not what happens. And it kinda pisses me off.

Dan should’ve come back. We should have gotten at least one more episode with this guy, exploring more of his character, more of his side of the story, anything at all. And you know what would be a great way to do this?

Vlad.

Imagine this, if you will.

Dan makes his escape from Clockwork’s lair, dead set on finishing what he started. Eventually, he discovers Vlad’s portal (let’s say that Vlad decided to rebuild his here) and, upon coming face to face with the man who made him like this in the first place, freaks out. Dan makes an attempt on Vlad’s life, and Vlad just barely manages to escape.

Once Vlad is sure this strange new ghost won’t find him so easily, he realizes that this new ghost had Danny’s insignia on his chest, and puts it together that Danny must be involved in this somehow. 

So Vlad makes his way to Amity Park to confront Danny about this new ghost. Danny assumes that Vlad is there to try to kill Jack or whatever, the two get into a massive fistfight, before Vlad finally tells Danny that he’s only here because a strange new ghost wearing Danny’s insignia popped out of his portal this morning attempting to kill him a second time.

And Danny freezes. He goes from snarky and flippant to sheer, raw terror that has Vlad actually worried. Danny demands to know what this new ghost looks like, and Vlad’s concern turns to fear when Danny’s face goes white with horror because this is the same kid who went up against Pariah Dark without a second thought, who has faced countless ghosts who’s powers could be considered godly with a fearless smile on his face, and Vlad may not have much respect for Danny but he knows what the kid lacks in intelligence he more than makes up for in bravery. 

Meaning that whoever this new ghost is must be incredibly powerful, incredibly horrific, and incredibly dangerous.

Danny tells Vlad to go to Danny’s house and tell them to put the ghost shields surrounding the town up, to not try anything funny, and don’t. Leave. The Shields. No matter what.

For once, Vlad decides to take Danny’s lead. He appears on the Fenton’s doorstep, Armani suit ruffled and hair disheveled, telling them that there is a very powerful ghost making it’s way toward Amity Park and they need to put the ghost shields up now, or risk a Pariah Dark-level threat again. 

Then Vlad makes his way toward the edge of town, because he still hasn’t gotten an answer from Danny as to who exactly that ghost was, and he’ll be damned if he can’t get an answer.

Meanwhile, Danny is just outside the ghost shields, waiting for Dan to arrive. He’s absolutely terrified, because what if Danny isn’t strong enough this time? What if he fails again, like he almost did before Clockwork turned back time? Would Clockwork do that for him again? Would he have to watch his future burn down this present that he’s taken so long to keep up?

Then Dan arrives. Right as Vlad makes it to the edge of the shield. 

And Vlad watches with awe as the two fight. He watches as Danny holds his own against this ghost that had almost decimated Vlad barely 2 hours prior, watches as Danny outmaneuvers, outsmarts this menace, watches as Danny fights tooth and nail in a way that Vlad is sure he’s never seen before, and he realizes that Danny has been holding back. Maybe not at first, maybe not during those first few months, but definitely for a while now, because Danny is holding his own now when Vlad couldn’t.

But then that leaves the question as to why? Why is Danny going all out now? Why was he so scared of this new ghost? More importantly, when did Danny encounter this guy? 

Because he had to have fought this ghost at least once before, to have had that reaction to Vlad’s description. 

And then, he hears the other ghost’s voice, one that sounds like a strange mixture of his and Danny’s, and he hears him say “It doesn’t matter what you do, Danny. You might’ve stopped that explosion, but there are still so many other things that lead to me. A car crash, an unlucky ghost attack, the ecto-filtrator, Vlad getting lucky, all of them could still happen. Your friends, your family, all gone, and you still turn into me.”

And suddenly, everything makes sense. That ghost that Danny’s fighting, that ghost that attacked Vlad, that is Danny, or it was, before something twisted him into an unrecognizable monster, and Vlad has a creeping suspicion that it has something to do with him.  And he realizes that Danny is so much more than he ever gave him credit for. He sees Danny, fighting his own future with a hope that Vlad would call naive if not for the fact that Danny had already thwarted whatever horrible future lead to this at least once before, and he understands that he was wrong about Danny.

Because this? Fighting against the personification of all the worst parts of yourself not once, but at least twice? It would require a maturity, a strength of will that Vlad knows he himself lacks, and he comes to the stunning realization that for all the childish quips and petty pranks, Danny is far more mature than Vlad ever was, far stronger than Vlad ever was.

And then, Danny does the ghostly wail.

And if Vlad was surprised before, then he's absolutely terrified now. That’s enough power to destroy an entire city, that single wail, and the sound is a bone-chilling scream that rubs the older halfa wrong in every way possible because that sound should not come from someone as young as Danny.

And now Vlad is caught between two realizations: that Danny is so much stronger than Vlad could ever be in every sense of the word, and that the only reason Danny is that strong is because he has to be, because he’s a child being forced to go against all manner of ghostly and cosmic horror all on his own, and Vlad suddenly feels intensely guilty because he should’ve been helping Danny, and instead he’s done nothing but make his life harder.

At that point, Jack and Maddie arrive. They freak out because Vlad is so close to Phantom and this other extremely powerful ghost, what the hell is he thinking!? And Vlad is trying desperately to get them to leave, because Danny looks exhausted and Vlad might be an ass, but he’s starting his redemption arc now and that means making sure Danny’s secret, and by extension Danny himself, is safe from his parents. Vlad knows what it’s like to be on an examination table, knows how terrifying it is to have doctors looming over you with knives and bright lights while you have no idea what’s going on, and he’ll be damned if he lets Danny (who he again reminds himself is very much still a child) go through that with his own parents.

But it’s too late. Danny detransforms right there on the street, in full view of Jack and Maddie and everyone else who’s gathered there (Dan’s been sucked back in the thermos at this point).

Danny turns around, covered in scratches and burns and bruises, blood in his mouth from where Dan punched him in the lip, left arm hanging in an unnatural angle, and he sees everyone: He sees Vlad, icy blue eyes so similar to Danny’s own filled with uncharacteristic worry.

He sees Sam and Tucker, both with wide, scared eyes, and he can just barely see the faint shimmer of tears gathering in their eyes.

He sees Jazz, face pale and her knuckles white as she grips the Fenton peeler with all her strength.

He sees Valerie, her helmet down and exposing a flurry of emotions ranging from shock to anger to horror to pain.

He sees his mom and dad, clinging to each other as they stare at Danny, at their son, and come to the realization that their son is dead, their son is a ghost and he has been for a while now and how did they never notice? How could they not notice that they had been shooting at their own son for at least a year now, that their boy had been putting his afterlife on the line for them while also trying to keep up with school, and evade capture by the GIW, all at the same time?

And Danny is scared, he’s so scared, because his parents look horrified of him and they think he’s a monster, and they hate him, because why else would they be looking at him like that?

He feels his fathers arms wrapping around him and he’s sure, he’s so sure that they’re about to haul him off to their lab to be pinned down and dissected by his own parents, because they saw Dan, they saw what he would become, they saw what he is now, they know now. But then his mom and dad start apologizing, because they never noticed, and they should’ve, they should’ve seen that Danny’s low grades and missed curfews and skipped classes were because he was putting his life on the line for everyone in this town over and over and over again. They apologize for not making him feel safe in his own house, because how many times did they rant about dissecting their own son right in front of him? How many times had Jack and Maddie shown Danny a dissected blob ghost and effectively told him that he was the next one on the list? How much hell did their own son have to go through on his own, because his own parents couldn’t see what was right there?

And Danny finally realizes that no, he’s not going to end up on a dissection table, that his parents do accept him as he is now. 

But there’s still this lingering fear because they don’t know. They don’t know what Danny might turn into, and he can’t keep that from them anymore, because Dan is a secret he can’t keep anymore.

Jack and Maddie are confused when their son pulls away, and for a moment they’re worried that Danny’s upset with them, that he’s angry at them, because why wouldn’t he be?

Then they see this nervousness, they see how he’s shaking and tense, and they might not always be able to read the room that well but they can tell that there’s something else going on here that Danny wants to tell them, even if he’s scared to.

So Jack and Maddie ask Danny if he wants to talk about whatever it is back at the house, and Danny says yes, but Vlad, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz should also be there, because Danny needs some level of support and he knows that Vlad won’t stop pestering him about Dan until he tells him.

Valerie steps in at this point, finally getting over her shock to demand to know what the hells going on, was Danny Phantom the whole time? Who was that other ghost? Why did that other ghost say that Danny would turn into him?

Sam and Tucker, who have been through the emotional wringer watching their best friend fight his evil future self, then reveal his identity to his parents, are kinda pissed at Valerie, because Danny’s already stressed out enough as is, she doesn’t need to be adding on to it. A fight almost breaks out between the three of them, which only stopped when Vlad of all people, steps in saying that while Valerie does have a right to know what’s going on, all of this yelling will do nothing but cause problems.

The three simmer down, and they all head over to the Fenton’s house, where Danny tells them everything: the portal, Pariah Dark (Vlad suddenly finds a particularly interesting spot on the floor), and Dan. He tells them about how Jack, Maddie, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker died in an explosion in that timeline, how that timeline’s Danny turned to Vlad to take him in, how Alt!Danny asked Vlad to remove his human half so he wouldn’t feel that pain anymore. How Alt!Phantom had been driven insane by the separation (he leaves out the part where Phantom fuses with Vlad’s ghost half: he’s not sure Vlad wants him to tell them about his halfa status), killing his human half before destroying most of humanity. How Danny had been forced to fight Dan a year ago, when he had attempted to blow up his friends in family in this timeline to ensure Dan’s recreation here.

When he’s finally done, about an hour and a half later, Danny looks around the room: at Valerie, at Vlad, at his best friends, at his sister, at his parents, and he sees not only acceptance, but respect. Pride. Because they saw that Danny was willing to look his fate in the eye, and say that he would change it no matter what. They saw him fight tooth and nail to protect them, they saw him defend them from his own demons with a bravery most grown adults don’t have, much less a 14 year old boy.

And they accept him.

Soulmate AU where you see you color after meeting the eyes of your soulmate

"Okay," Jack said, pleased to see the fearful look in the ghost punk's eyes as he directed Danny's hand onto the Specter Speeder's weapon joystick, "now you're gonna want to aim right between the eyes..."

"Uh, Dad?" Danny asked, his voice shaking. 

Jack's eager grin grew. "Now WA--"

"Dad!" Danny yelled, his voice breaking. "His eyes! Is--is that color?!"

"--STE HIM--what?"

Jack jerked his head around, finally looking away from the ghost boy. Danny's eyes were large and they were darting from the ghost to the sky to the ghost to the ground to the ghost to Jack's jumpsuit and back to the ghost. They were no longer lazily half closed, Jack could see the full expanse of Danny's blue irises, but most damning of all was the dilation of Danny's pupils. 

A pit opened up in Jack's stomach. "Oh no," he whispered. 

Danny threw himself against Jack. It jerked the weapons out of alignment, but worse, Danny disturbed the controls in Jack's hands. The Specter Speeder pitched to the side. Danny yelped and slid toward the open doors. He clawed at Jack's arm, but the jumpsuit was smooth and skintight--it offered little traction. 

He fell out of the open doorway.

He could have kicked himself. 

"Danny!" Jack shouted. He reached for his son, but he was far too late. Danny was already in freefall, rapidly falling from thirty feet in the air. Jack's words from two days ago shouted in his head, "Safety features are for punks!" 

Frantically, he tipped the Specter Speeder into a dive and chased after Danny. He could see Danny through the windshield, his boy's limbs flailing from the wind. His head and shoulders were falling first; the landing would break his neck long before Jack reached him.

"Danny!" Jack shouted again, anguished. 

A white blur shot between them seconds before Danny impacted the ground. Newspapers flew into the air where Danny had been. Jack pulled sharply on the Specter Speeder's controls. Once he was parallel with the ground, he saw Danny again through the windshield, held in the arms of the ghost boy. 

The ghost boy landed. He set Danny on the ground and stepped back. They stared at each other, seemingly oblivious to everything around them, and Jack--

Jack's hand wrapped around the weapon joystick. The ghost was too close to Danny for Jack's peace of mind, a new threat to his son, but...but...

Danny was supposed to be colorblind. Everyone was born unable to see color until they met the eyes of their soulmate or felt their touch for the first time. 

Danny had met the ghost's eyes through the windshield of the Specter Speeder.

Danny's pupils had dilated to absorb as many details as possible, as if witnessing something for the first time. 

Danny had spoken of seeing colors.

Danny had moved recklessly to...to save the ghost from Jack.

...and the ghost had saved Danny from certain death. 

Slowly, reluctantly, Jack removed his hand from the joystick. It was probably nothing. Ghosts couldn't have souls, they were only the remnants of dead people, and Danny couldn't have a ghost for a soulmate.

...But just in case...

"Danny!" Jack shouted as he sped toward them. Both boys looked up at him. "Oh, they're both named Danny," Jack realized. "Now that's gotta be confusing...Hold on, son!"

The two looked at each other again. The ghost Danny stepped back again. 

"Wait!" Jack shouted again. "Ghost boy, wait a minute!"

The ghost's head jerked around, his eyes wide as he looked at Jack. Perhaps shocked Jack wasn't just shooting at him. Danny touched the ghost's arm. 

If the ghost reacted to the touch of his soulmate, however, Jack didn't see it. A blast slammed into the Specter Speeder. Metal screeched, Jack yelled, and the Speeder soared through the air before crashing against--something. Jack's head cracked against the controls, and his vision blacked out. Dazed and disoriented, he heard his boy cry out for him. He fumbled with his controls, but without sight, he couldn't find the ghost that must have attacked him. He gave up as his head spun and allowed his head to fall back against the seat. He just needed a moment. To catch his breath. Just a moment, and then he could protect his son and...his son's soulmate?

Jack heard the slap of hands landing on glass and pried his eyes open. His vision had returned, if a little blurry around the edges. There was shouting, somebody's nasal voice irritating his brain, but Jack could only focus on Danny's face and the ghost boy standing beside him. They looked worried. Both of them. Even the ghost. Why?

More spectacular than a ghost fearing for Jack was watching the two Dannys look at each other. Ghost and human. They didn't say anything vocally, but it was like they understood with just a glance everything that needed to be said. 

Danny turned away from Jack and ran down the road. The ghost flew after him, and when Danny lifted his arms, the ghost picked him up and flew in the direction of the voice. They weren't even speaking but they moved with the grace of soulmates who had known each other for years. 

"Danny," Jack protested weakly. He couldn't let them race off to fight a ghost. Not for his sake, not when they were only kids. 

Still dizzy, Jack fought his body's desire for rest after receiving a concussion--perhaps air bags weren't such a bad idea--and scrambled out of his broken machine. An abandoned motorcycle he found was too small for a man as large as Jack, but for a short distance he could make it work. He climbed aboard and raced after the kids, the machine's roar in his ears aggravating his headache. 

He arrived before Danny and the ghost boy tipped the RV into the lake. Jack wasn't sure why they chose the lake as a capture device, but he could tell from the RV's unnatural state that a ghost was involved somehow. Ghosts were always involved when it came to weird, spooky things like innocent Family Assault Vehicles gaining a bulbous top half.

Danny turned to the ghost boy and opened his mouth, but Jack arrived before the first conversation between soulmates could take place. 

"Danny!" He leapt off his tiny motorcycle and reached for Danny, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Son! Are you hurt? What was that thing? I know your mother and I encourage you and your sister to take part in our profession, but that does not mean unsupervised ghost hunting, young man!"

Danny's wide eyes crumbled into a sullen pout. "Ugh, Dad..."

"And you--" Jack rounded on the ghost boy. The ghost stiffened, stepped back, but Jack threw out a hand and grabbed a bony shoulder before he could go far. "--what color are my son's eyes?"

The ghost's jaw dropped. His eyes darted to Danny. 

Danny wrinkled his nose at him. "Ugh, what? Gees, he was there when it happened." He shrugged, his own bony shoulder rising and falling underneath Jack's hand. "The whole explosion of color thing is kinda hard not to freak out about, y'know?"

"There was no explosion of color!" the ghost objected. "We're not soulmates!"

"Sure we're not, bright-eyes."

A pale green blush came over the ghost's cheeks. "What?"

"Your eyes, like, glow with this, like..." Danny moved his hand around as he squinted at the ghost's face, trying to find a word to describe a color he could never see before. "--pretty color. I don't know. I haven't seen anything like it yet. It's really bright, though. And your blush too. Like, wow, dude, take deep breaths."

"I don't need to breathe, I'm a ghost." The ghost looked at Jack. "And ghosts don't even have soulmates, right?"

Jack stared at the two of them, too unsure to answer that. An hour ago, he would have agreed whole-heartedly, but...

If Danny was telling the truth (and Jack would believe him over a ghost any day), then that meant the ghost was rejecting Danny as his soulmate. More than Jack's profession, more than preserving a belief already proven to be flawed, Jack couldn't allow Danny to go through that pain.

"You two do know soulmates don't have to mean a romantic relationship?" Jack asked cautiously, and then added quickly, "Not that there is anything wrong with...uh two boys--a human and a--a ghost--uh..." This wasn't really a conversation he ever thought he would need to give Danny, but...

Danny groaned, tipping back his head. 

"I'm aware," the ghost muttered, the blush Danny had admired getting worse. 

"Right! Because Vladdy and I--" Danny choked "--are soulmates, and we never got married!!" Jack finished by beaming at the two of them. 

"You and Vlad...?" Danny asked, still sounding a little choked. "Soulmates?"

"Yup!" Jack chuckled. "Man, you should have seen his face when our eyes met and the world filled with color..."

The ghost hummed and raised an eyebrow at Danny. Danny caught the look and stuck his tongue out at the ghost. 

More banter without a single word spoken...

Slightly uncomfortable, Jack cleared his throat. "So! You see! Whether you two choose to pursue a romantic relationship or one more brotherly like me and Vladdy--" Danny blew air between his lips, "--the important thing is that..." Jack's voice faltered. He cleared his throat again and gave the ghost's shoulder a brief squeeze. "The important thing...Phantom, is that...if...if you're my son's soulmate then...then you're part of the family."

The ghost stared at him, the unnatural light of his green eyes searing into Jack's as if searching for a falsehood. "I'm a ghost," he said, as if Jack had missed that fact.

"Yes," Jack said slowly. "We'll have to break the news to Maddie gently." He winked at the ghost and tried to force a smile. "Maybe start with you saving Danny's life."

A tiny smile touched the corners of the ghost's lips in response. 

"Ugh, do we have to tell Mom?" Danny whined. "She's going to make it so embarrassing..."

"This isn't like keeping what happened to the Fenton Family Assault Vehicle a secret!" Jack objected, making the two boys wince. "This is your soulmate! This is your colorfest, Danny! This is one of the most important days of your life! The day you met your soulmate and saw the world come alive with color! If we don't tell Maddie as soon as possible..." He shuddered.

Danny's friends shouted Danny's name as they ran down the pier, not quite within hearing distance, but close. 

Danny made a face. "Okay, we can tell mom. And Jazz, I guess. But that's it." 

"The sky," the ghost suddenly blurted. Danny frowned at him and Jack raised his eyebrows. The ghost's hands fiddled with the cloth (was that a bedsheet?) tied around his throat. "His--Fenton's eyes. They're the same color as the sky."

Danny's expression brightened. "They are?"

"HA!" Jack crowed. Feeling suddenly overcome by joy, so blinded by excitement for his boy, Jack forgot the ghost boy's species entirely as he slid an arm around each of their shoulders and drew them into a crushing bear hug. "Yes!" he shouted. "They are! They are!" He laughed and half stood, lifting the two boys partially into the air. "My son has found his soulmate!"

"Dad!" Danny wailed. "Dad! Shh! Shhhhh!"

"Release me!" the ghost shouted. 

Jack laughed, the sound joyous and--for the moment--carefree. 

Of course his son would have a ghost for a soulmate!

What other outcome could there be for a Fenton who claimed not to care about hunting ghosts?

Mochi Madness

Pairings: Vlad x Reader

Words: 2200+

Comments: Eeeeeeeek! Once more HAPPY BIRTHDAY NEEEMOOO! ❤☺hehe I bet we have all become far better at making mochi than we were with the first attempt lol,☺😳😳😳😳 Eeeek I'm super excited to see how our cheesecakes and brownies are going to turn out! whoooop whoooop even more excited to spend the day with ya ! hehe, hope you had a wonderful day neemo filled with all the candy, all the sunshine and all the sweetness! Sending ya infinity catbus hugs! hehe love ya lots! ❤❤😳😳

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ

The month of July was not a particularly special time of the year for you, but for Vlad, it meant the world, for it was the birth month of his dearest flower. You had insisted multiple times to the man not to make a big deal out of the day of your birth, and after a bit of back and forth, a compromise was made. A morning spent making some delightful birthday treats followed by tea in the garden was the suggestion and one that seemed like an appropriate way to spend your birthday. Not too grand, yet intimate and memorable.

It was the early afternoon of your birthday, a perfect time to make some treats for tea. You were the first to arrive in the kitchen, so you decided to prepare yourself for the mountain to climb. You tied the pink apron around your waist, washed your hands and gathered the ingredients for the battle that was about to commence. Your kitchen had become a war zone, so to say, more so because of your severe lack of cooking abilities.

Your comrade—companion in arms— arrived in due time to lend support and as such, marked the start of the great birthday battle.

Vlad strode through the kitchen doors, taking soft steps as he carried a basket of precious cargo close to him. “Ah, just in time, did you manage to get enough strawberries from the garden,” you asked curiously, shooting a happy smile over your shoulder.

He returned your smile with a gentle one of his own, coming up beside you to place the heavy basket down, pulling the cloth off to reveal a mountain of strawberries. You let go of a gasp in awe. “I think we have enough strawberries to feed an army,” you jested with a playful elbow jab to Vlad’s side.

“I have no intention of sharing these with an army, only with you, my love,” came the light chuckled response from Vlad as he reached over to grab hold of a matching pink apron. It was the cutest apron, littered with bunches of tiny bright red strawberries— a gift from his last birthday— one which he cherished very much for the feature of his favourite food. Despite the airy response, you knew he was dead serious, especially when it came to his beloved strawberries. You shook your head with a smile, memories of past castle shenanigans flashing in your mind— of Faust and Charles stealing Vlad secret stash of berries and the severe punishment that awaited them for their crimes.

Your eyes drifted down to the recipe— it was one you had come across a few weeks ago while searching the library for a book to read. Mochi, it was called; you remembered researching the dish after it had been mentioned in a favourite book of yours. You were always curious about the dish. However, after the main character described the soft, chewy texture, you knew you just had to try the treat for yourself. Hells, you were so excited about wanting to try it out, that you had immediately sought Vlad out in his garden to share the discovery and to find out if in all his years on earth if he had ever come across such a dish.

With a shake of the head and a fond smile shot your way, he suggested that the treat be included as part of your birthday picnic.

It took a bit of searching and lots of researching, but thankfully, with Vlad’s help, the two of you managed to find a small recipe book that featured the soft, chewy dessert.

“Okay, first things first, we need to mix the rice flour and water,” you stated, tapping the recipe in thought as you read a little further to gauge the next few steps to follow.

Meanwhile, Vlad reached out to pick up the two bags of powdery substances laying on the table, crimson eyes scrutinizing the labels. He then turned to you, concern painted over his face, “What’s the difference?” he asked.

Your first obstacle had just arrived; you knew it was one that would come back to haunt you as even after you had found the recipe, one of the ingredients had never been heard of before. You and Vlad hunted far and wide for the rice flour when finally, one day when Vlad was on his way home from the flower shop, he spotted the very flour you required for the baking battle. The only problem was that that shop housed two types of rice flour. So Vlad did what any reasonable person would, he bought them both. It was a problem for future Vlad to deal with.

You looked over at him in confusion, which only seemed to grow when you investigated the labels yourself. “Surely glutinous rice flour and rice flour are the exact same thing,” you stated, stroking your chin and wracking your mind for any differences between the two.

“Let’s see what the recipe says?” Vlad suggested, moving to take a closer look at the book.

“Sweet rice flour,” he read aloud with widened eyes. How was there a third type of rice flour? You tried to decipher the labels for any indication, even going as far as to look at the sugar content hoping that one of them would be higher, as surely that would dub it as sweet rice flour? More sugar equals sweet, right? RIGHT?

After a moment of pondering, and investigating you smiled over at the man with a carefree shrug, “there is only one way to decide which to use.” Vlad looked over at you curiously, raising a brow as he waited for you to reveal your master plan.

”Cover your eyes,” you said with a widening smile and a hint of mischief, carefully taking the two bags from his hands and putting them behind your back.

Once his eyes were closed, you brought the bags forward and placed them down on the counter, keeping a cautious eye on Vlad to make sure he wasn’t peeking. With a satisfied nod, you quickly started shuffling the bags around until even you were unsure which was which.

With a tender smile scattered across his face, Vlad’s eyes twitched to open ever so slightly, if only to catch a glimpse of what you were up to. Unfortunately for him, you had eyes at the back of your head and caught him in the act trying to steal a glance, “Nuh uh, I see you peeking,” you squealed out, quickly rushing behind him and bringing your small hands up to block his vision further.

He tilted his head to the side, puzzled as to just what antics you were up to. As if reading his thoughts, you finally revealed your ingenious plan. “Since neither of us knows the difference between all these flours, we shall let fate do the deciding for us!”

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, hands extended out in front of him to feel around the counter until finally, they hit one of the bags. After a moment of patting around for the second bag, he randomly picked one up, “this one,” he smiled, turning to lock eyes with you.

You clapped your hands together happily, letting out a gleeful hum, “perfect! Okay, let’s mix it with some water!”

Without care for quantities, you eyeballed the amount of water thrown into the bowl with a satisfied smirk— you never were in the habit of measuring ingredients out accurately, much rather opting to follow your gut.

After the two ingredients were combined in a bowl, you cooked it in a saucepan until a blob of sticky goo formed. You removed it from the heat and set it aside to read the next set of instructions. “Knead,” you stated simply.

Vlad looked at the pot of goo dubiously, giving it a little poke, “is it supposed to be this sticky,” he asked with a troubled expression. Cooking had never really been his strong suit either, despite the years spent on the earth.

“I mean, the recipe didn’t say it shouldn’t look like this, “you responded with a confident shrug and an easy smile. You tried tipping the pot out onto the counter, only for the goo-like substance to remain firmly stuck to the bottom, causing an amused snort to come from Vlad.

“Interesting,” the white-haired man mused, using the spoon to help the goo from the pot to flop onto the counter. He split the mixture in half and gestured for you to knead one half while he took care of the first.

“Here goes nothing,” you said, apprehensive, not entirely sure what kind of end product to expect— as things stood, the pile of goo was neither light nor fluffy, just a sticky mass.

After several moments of trying to knead the glob, you finally broke into laughter, “this is not working,” you looked down at the ‘dough’, most of it being stuck to your hands, the other half stuck to the board.

Your gaze shifted over to Vlad, who seemed to be having about as much luck as you with the dough, but instead of kneading, he was playing with it like goop between his hands, “I bet Johann would like this, reminds me of one of his experiments,” he said with eyes lit up in childlike wonder.

Continuing on your crusade, somehow, you and Vad managed to get the sticky mass of goo into a semi doughlike blob. Left to chill for 30 minutes beneath a heap of cornstarch, you moved onto the next feat, ganache...

Easy enough, you thought scanning the recipe— how wrong you were— how very wrong indeed, as it was anything but simple. You glanced around the kitchen and gulped; Charles was going to kill you when he got home.

The mixing of the chocolate and cream was easy enough, but the shaping of the dark chocolate substance into balls? Now that was a separate feat on its own. After letting the ganache sit in the fridge for a few moments, you were ready to make up and fill your mochi.

A strawberry centre with a chocolate ganache covering. That was the goal, and truly the recipe made it sound so simple. Just make a ball out of the ganache and press the strawberry to the centre, covering it entirely with the chocolate, it said— it will be fun it said, freakin nope! What the recipe didn’t account for was warm hands and sticky chocolate melting and making a giant mess.

Even though the once-pristine kitchen turned warzone from the hurricane that was your and Vlad’s cooking, a smile never left Vlad’s face.

You had to laugh at your pureblood lover covered in chocolate, brows furrowed together as he tried his hardest to wrap the mochi dough around the ever melting chocolate covered strawberry. At some point, to motivate himself between mochi’s, he would pop the ‘flopped strawberries’ into his mouth, you know, to taste test and make sure they were still good.

After 5 successful ish attempts, the two of you decided to call it quits! With a wide grin, you snuck a glance over at Vlad, who finally managed to seal his first chocolate delight in the mochi skin. You clapped your hands and praised him with a ‘bravo.’

After carefully putting your newly made treat into the picnic basket, you turned to Vlad with an impish glimmer in your eyes. “You have a little chocolate right here,” you gestured to the man, startings of a cunning smile falling across your lips.

With a thoughtful hum, he brought his knuckle up to wipe the spot on his cheek, but it was of little use as you simply giggled and shook your head.

“Did I get it?” he asked, crimson eyes looking down at you with nothing but pure love and affection.

Your smile widened, turning Cheshire as you reached your tiny hand covered in chocolate to his face, to leave a playful smear, “nope, it’s right here,” you said, biting back the laughter that threatened to spill from your chest.

“A cunning one, I see,” came his response, with eyes lit up. Before you could jump back, he dipped his fingers in the bowl of chocolate and swiped them across your cheek with a smear to match.

Chimelike laughter filled the kitchen as you and Vlad continued to worsen its state with the third natural disaster of the day, this time in the form of chocolate finger painting. The end of the new battle was marked when Vlad leaned down to steal a kiss from your lips mid-attack. “Sweet,” he remarked with a twinkle in his eye, hand moving from your check to delicate take hold of yours.

“Happy birthday, Draga mea,” the words befell his lips, followed by another tender kiss on the forehead. You responded in kind by giving his hand a squeeze,” shall we go out and have that picnic in the garden? I am rather excited to try these mochis.”

“Anything for you, my love,” he spoke with an affectionate squeeze of the hand, leading you to your favourite spot in the garden.

WIP Wednesday ft. Bound by Destiny II, part 2 ― Chapter 7

WORD COUNT: 1,160 RATING: Mature (this series is rated MATURE for graphic violence and adult content) FEAT: Nadya Al Jamil (MC), Jax Matsuo, Serafine Dupont CONTENT WARNINGS: language, spoilers for book 5

NOTE: Because I feel so bad about having to put book 5 on hiatus again, here’s a treat for WIP Wednesday! It’s not much, but any more would have been too many spoilers and I wanted to keep the suspense.

So enjoy this little snippet from the middle of Chapter 7 in the mean time, and once again I wanted to thank everyone who has been so supportive during this hiatus!

Bound by Destiny II, part 2 Chapter 7 releases February 10th!        *Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing reimagining project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off Nightbound. Check out the first 4 books in the Oblivion Bound series, linked below!

⥼ ABOUT OBLIVION BOUND ⥽ | ⥼ FIC MASTERLIST ⥽

TAG LIST: @googlesentmehere, @cess02, @hellyeah90sbaby, @tayab12, @saratustra4​, @imnotdonewiththeelementalists​, @thepotatobleh​

“I still can’t believe you just called the guy up.”

Jax has barely paid any of it a second glance; not the journey or the destination. He’s stayed in pretty much the same position the entire drive; arms never uncrossing from his chest and, to literally no one’s surprise, with his sword never leaving his lap.

“How would you rather I have gone about arranging this little parley then, hm?”

The two vampires stare one another down in silence. Suddenly the cabin feels a lot more cramped and heated than it did just a moment ago. Nadya tugs at the collar of her shirt in discomfort.

“I’m not saying I had a plan, but if I’d had time to make one it wouldn’t be walking through his front door.”

But the younger’s irritation only seems to amuse Serafine, who purses her lips into a thin line to keep from smirking at him too obviously.

“Ah, oui. I suspect you would have gone looking for a secret entrance of some kind… perhaps a sewage tunnel by which to secret yourself in and out undetected?”

Jax just shrugs. “Can’t say I wouldn’t.”

“I can.”

Two words and just like that all the mirth is sapped from the air around them. Nothing fills the void left behind; it stays hollow and empty with foreboding.

“If such a passage did exist, which I can assure you it does not, would the Order not have used it long ago in much the same way?” She raises a single eyebrow at Jax, continuing before he has a chance to answer her.

“While your modern methods are indeed a fresh eye on an old war, Jax, they seem to blind you to the full scope of the kind of life we have lived here for all these centuries. Safety is but a fleeting dream to us. No shadow goes undisturbed for signs of the enemy. Every shelter — from a boarded-up chapel on the wayside to a sprawling manor house such as this — has been deemed safe only after proceeding with the utmost caution.

“Even someone as brazen as Vlad would not dare risk his own life by doing anything else.”

Nadya swears she can hear Jax’s teeth grind in his set jaw. That may be the gravel under the tires though.

The limo starts to slow down as they pass through a break in the hedges to reveal a wide arcing roundabout that stops just shy of the castle’s imposing front doors.

“So what you’re saying is if this goes to shit tonight there’s really no escape plan, huh?” Jax finally asks, and with a much softer voice than either Serafine or Nadya would have expected.

It makes the vampiress throw him a sympathetic look. One he pointedly ignores, but when has that ever stopped her before?

“Have you such little faith in my charming disposition?”

It’s a meager attempt to lighten the somber mood at best, but it’s enough to at least ease his suddenly white-knuckled grip on the sheath of his katana.

“More like a lack of faith in your judgment.”

“Inspired by?”

“Whatever the hell you see in Raines.”

It’s as though the driver has been taking his sweet time waiting for a break in their tension to finally get there. Which can’t possibly be the case; since the partition has been up from the moment they pulled away from the hotel and the ones they left behind… can it?

He cuts the engine abruptly. Something about the reigning silence makes Nadya’s heart start to inch its way up into her throat. Jax, sitting closest to her and no doubt hearing the spike in her pulse, reaches out and squeezes her shoulder.

“You okay there?”

She gives a noncommittal shrug, glad when he doesn’t drop his hand. “Situationally or existentially?” The joke, unfortunately, doesn’t quite land.

“At least this one is above ground.” He tries to reassure her. But apparently neither of them are allowed the luxury.

“The parts you can see…” Serafine says; her last words before the door opens to signal their arrival.

The night air is cold and makes Nadya’s eyes water as she steps out between her companions. She would have rather had Kamilah or Adrian at her side but that just wasn’t possible.

Serafine had made a point that couldn’t be denied. Between Kamilah’s assumed death and Gaius’ known ability to hold a grudge longer than most modern civilizations had been around, those two were pretty much screwed if anyone just so happened to recognize them. With Antony and Isseya off the radar since Kamilah’s return and none of them having any hint or clue as to whether or not Gaius had started extending his reach overseas yet, they were better off housebound (metaphorically speaking) for the time being.

As it is they’re risking enough bringing Jax along, but apparently the fact he hadn’t made “much of an impression” on Gaius, to put it in Kamilah’s own words, was to their benefit. They were playing safe over sorry with Lily and her newly-acquired quirks too.

It was easy to write off the fact that Serafine hadn’t even allowed Cadence to volunteer before shooting him down as being, well, Serafine and Cadence being Serafine and Cadence. But there’s still a lot they don’t know about whatever had happened to their friends when the group split up — whatever it was though was enough to ease that tension in ways nobody would have expected.

“The intention is to meet with Vlad as quickly as possible, and ideally without arousing suspicion from him or any who might be in his entourage.” Serafine had explained. “Seeing as Cynbel of the Trinity has been famously dead for over a century now, seeing him suddenly reappear in the midst of Gaius’ ascension might as well be the definition of suspicious.”

The argument was fair and valid and lucky for them to have that kind of forethought, honestly. But when Nadya thinks back to the vague air of their talk back at Ahmanet in London and pairs it almost absentmindedly with the way Serafine and Kamilah exchanged a long and almost nervous glance at one another when Cadence’s back is turned…

Let’s just say at this point she’s just waiting around for the other shoe to drop. Or the other-other shoe. Like the kind of shoe an octopus might wear or something.

All of that and only Nadya is left; always the odd one out. But the Bloodkeeper can’t not do this, so what choice does she have?

They just have to hope Kamilah was right when she assumed Gaius would want to do everything in his power not to let Nadya’s name and face spread too far or wide. That he wouldn’t dare run the risk of someone else getting to her before he could.

Neither option appeals, for the record. But at least she’s not the only one risking her neck.

delta echo alpha delta

Summary: 

He is here, for some reason, in this place and with these people he vaguely recognizes. He wants help. Please, please, please. 

(All they see is a haunting and a monster.)

Prompt by @ectopal

“Jack and Maddie, at the end of their rope,  beg Vlad to come to Amity to help stop the ghost that's haunting their family. Vlad realizes that it isn't a ghost that's terrorizing them, but their son, who recently became a half ghost and is having just about the worst time in the world dealing with it. Bonus points if in his human form Danny is extremely unsettling. ”

Notes:  (yes the title is from lemon demon’s lifetime achievement award). this... i spent. way longer setting it up so sorry about minimal vlad but. uhh im really proud of this. i went. i went a little nuts, admittedly. with imagery. i hope its not incomprehensible? 

Wordcount: 2825

Being dead… is new.

The Phantom isn’t sure just how it is new, it contemplates as it stares at two children who scream and scrabble at a smoking portal. Blank in their terror, they ignore him.

His eyes flicker towards a mirror on the other side of the room, and it only shows the two of them.

The phantom ignores them— who is he to interrupt? Dead men tell no tales. He gets the distinct feeling that everything is wrong, and a piece of that puzzle is the pair’s odd familiarity— but hey, he just died, he’s really not feeling up to much of anything.

Green eyes stare in the mirror, but that’s all he is— two green wisps, apparently ignored in the panic of two teens.

He supposes he should feel weirder having, presumably, died. No, he innately knows he died.

But mostly he just feels… confusion. Displacement.

And cold, not unpleasantly so, just a buried, almost peaceful chill.

In between blinks— perhaps he is tired, so tired, dead tired (he laughs to himself), the two teens flicker away, basement restored, before he can even think about questioning them. Why are you so familiar? Why am I here? It pokes sharply at his heart.

For the phantom knows he is dead, but he never considered that means alive once, too tired and dead-brained (hah) to question implication.

The ghost of Danny Fenton closes its wispy eyes, not strong enough to maintain form, let alone to pervade that shock scrabble at memories that may lead him to living again.

xXx

Three days pass. The ghost, in moments of waking, had decided Phantom. There is something so familiar about that name, the way it rolls off his (hypothetical) tongue.

In between blinks, he sees the Family in the basement, that place of awakening.

They speak of someone missing, lost. They gesture to the green, swirling abyss, upset as they work on something that looks like a rocket. Rocket. Stars pervade his mind as he lazily blinks, and he falls back asleep to dreams of space before he can even think again of questioning the Family, of asking can I help?

He knows what it is to be lost, but he is too tired and unfocussed.

xXx

The one with the firey, long hair notices him first. He has taken to floating about the abode. Nothing physical keeps him here, but there is some tug in his heart that makes him want to stay.

He likes the red haired one. She reads a lot. Talks about bad coping to the Parents, though he’s not sure what those words mean (he’s unsure also why he gets the feeling of vague annoyance, oddly familiar, and the stinging in his chest becomes so painful when he thinks like that, like a scorpion’s deadly barbed stinger).

One day, one higher energy day, a week after the awakening, Phantom lazily swishes after her, into her room. Sometimes he blinks and he hears the swishes of pages and a drip of water, and he has enough energy now to be curious.

The doors, the walls, the floor— they’re all nothing. Or maybe, rather, he’s nothing, he observes as he notes the girl crying on her psych book.

He frowns, distantly. She’ll ruin the pages like that. Maybe there’s something more he should be concerned about, but he is so young and lost, and so tired.

He runs a finger along a page, rolling away a tear, in an effort to dry it. The pages flutter in a wind, and the girl startles, glancing at the closed window.

For just a moment, Phantom sees not two piercing green wisps, but something blue and glinting, and a fragment of a foggy body in his place. He glances down— there is no second person here.

He’s distracted by the fact the girl is crying again, harder, scrubbing her eyes.

Distressed, he thumbs at her face, and a cool, wintery wind blows over her hair.

He’s too tired to do much more, and his chill becomes like a blanket to him.

xXx

It’s small, but maybe Phantom can help the family. His waking moments get more frequent and longer, and he starts to fidget with objects; the daughter cries, and he rustles her hair. The mother sleeps on her research of the great swirling door, and he drapes a foggy arm over her. The father squints into darkness at his foggy form as he goes down for a midnight snack— then blinks and rubs his eyes. He flickers the computers off when they should be sleeping, touches at their shoulders in comfort, because he wants to help them and he wants to be with them so bad. The flailing stinger pierces again and again.

“We’ll find him,” the Parents insists, and the Phantom tries to support them as best he can. The Daughter has given up, but he tries to help her, too.

Bluntly, the Phantom notes perhaps he is not exactly selfless— one of the few concrete truths he knows of himself (the other being an enjoyment of word play; he’s twisted dead and ghost every which way). There is some innate desire within him to be with them; seen, known, interacted with.

At the moment, he’s not more than a blustering wind and a foggy reflection.

He sinks to the floor, ghostly sigh escaping his ever invisible lungs. He’s wondered if ghosts are supposed to breathe as he does, but it’s not like anyone’s around to ask. His crackled voice is never heard by the Family, responded to by nothing but icy silence.

He brushes a hand against the cold lab table from his floating position. His hands feel solid to him, but again, do not reach the Family.

The Phantom takes a look around at the toxic green beakers and sleek white tech. He is slipping away again, not that he wants to— but not that he has a choice.

In what feel like his last moments for the day (week? Month? Time is undefinable) he grasps at a beaker, curious.

Green oozes onto the floor as it blows over. Frantically, the Phantom tries to correct his mistake— but touching it… touching it feels good. A jolt of electricity and energy. The tiredness… is gone.

Something flickers beneath him, and the Phantom jumps into the air. White feet follow black legs. Him.

The mirror that showed green wisps and two teens now show a white haired boy, with two green eyes. Something seems… underneath that reflection, though. Approaching the mirror, Phantom tilts his head, and the picture glints into something blue eyes and black haired for a fraction of a second, as though it is iridescent.

And then he blinks out altogether again.

xXx

Phantom’s first appearance is in the night. The girl has put away her book she was crying over while reading in the kitchen, and the Parents are upstairs; they eat, softly, quiet. It’s like walking in snow. The cold is not tranquil, the flakes not soft, they are just sharp things that land quietly in flesh.

The Phantom decides to break it with an icy crunch.

From the shadows, from the floors, he claws at that energy.

The Family stare in shock at the white haired, green eyed form that flickers in the shadows.

Their ears ring as his form, like static snowflakes, glints into something familiar, as they sit frozen.

xXx

He sleeps again, after that stunt— but the Phantom wakes, hopeful. The Family is searching for the lost person— perhaps they will also be sympathetic to his cause. Maybe they don’t even need to find the lost one, Phantom considers; this feels so much like home, maybe… maybe. No, no, you can both get help, he scolds in gentle reminder to himself, reminding those thoughts are the scoprion’s poison. It’s not malevolent— it just, in some way, he just knows he’ll slot in like a missing puzzle piece. He doesn’t know how he knows, and thoughts like that make the urge of please see me, the love, the need, grow so strong.

His voice reaches them in a static scream; he gives that approach up quickly when the Parents shoot into the nothing. He doesn’t want to scare, he wants to be helped, and to help. He’s finally a little less braindead (his chuckle is tinny static) and can contemplate a little more emotionally complicated situations— in other words, he can tell continuing to screech is perhaps not the best idea, and perhaps more subtlety that is available to him with his increased thoughts is required.

The TV channels, the word magnets, the radio. Static and the message lost lost lost please help lost lost forgot forgot see me see see see seeseeseeseesee me.

The Phantom feels his message is going well until the Family destroys those things in a green fire.

I need your help, though, he grimaces. Perhaps they just aren’t getting it. The dead cannot speak, are not supposed to; he knows this when he writes messages, something grating in his mind that keeps him from communicating all but his basic thoughts and wants.

Determined still, he starts flickering into existence again, clawing out of shadows. Lights flicker at his arrival.

It’s hard to do much like that, though; his brain dies (more?) and it’s all his concentration of see me see me.

The Family shoots at him, and more sleek machinery invades the household— defenses.

It doesn’t hurt him.

But… if he gets frustrated, slams at the fixtures a little harder than needed, rakes the words into place to try to say something, who can blame him? The Phantom, for some reason he cannot explain, feels the Family is his family. The Phantom wants to be seen. The universe tries to keep the dead in line, restrain the dead from disrupting that natural order of their old life and their afterlife. It’s a lot of factors, the Phantom dismisses, very much like a sassy teenager, and slams a door a little harder to get someone to notice.

The real problem is that they notice, then react in all the wrong ways. But the Phantom cannot swallow that, that his efforts are squandered, because then where would he be?

xXx

By the time the Fentons are valiant enough to get Vlad to get the “gang” back together, the creature is a constant. The ghost scrapes its filthy claws over the lights, resides in mirrors, screams over anything electronic— and their tech puts no stop to it. It’s like it has a foot in each world, caught between the ghost zone’s intangibility that would let it not be hurt but make it challenging to interact and the human realm’s solidity that would allow it to be wounded.

It is too powerful.

xXx

The Phantom can feel that the irritated old man is powerful. Something about his eyes glints red, in that same iridescent way that something inside Phantom’s green eyes glint blue like a glacier, if you just tilt your head and squint just right.

The Parents, who the Phantom has grown wary of— and yet he’s still here— why? It feels so much like home. He wants it to be home, because it’s always felt his place. Maybe that missing person doesn’t need to be found— maybe he can—no, no, remember!— the Parents, they are ranting about ghosts loudly. The man is impassive, and the Phantom plays with tilting his head just right to get the man’s skin to flood blue.

“I think it’s Danny,” Daughter says softly. That name stings him, but Phantom doesn’t think Daughter means to hurt him. She, Phantom still likes. She looks at him when he shows, looks at him like someone is concerned, even if she cries harder than ever nowadays (maybe Phantom is just awake to see it more, but he notes the constant redness of eyes and face is new, so maybe not). She doesn’t destroy his messages, just stares. Not helpful in the least, he notes sarcastically, plucking at the invisible yet black (—how can it be both? How can he be two things that are so opposite and parallel?) jumpsuit of his (how can it exist when he never can exist, so many hows).

“That isn’t Danny,” the Parents cement, and Phantom frowns. The name stings again, the scorpion sitting perched upon a rib and taking personal offence to that person. Who is Danny?

xXx

Watching the old man is tiring and boring. Phantom doesn’t have enough energy to reach him, to say help me (because the old man has the glint and that has to mean something) so he decides to change that.

When he sleeps, he dreams of so many glinting things. Flickering figures of the Family and the Teens that visit sometimes. But they are just ghosts of memories.

xXx

It is in the night when he wakes up, green eyes staring at the silver pool moon, pleased as he ever is staring at those stars.

A breath passes his lips, and his nonexistent form shudders. Someone—!

“You must change back,” the ghost he saw in glints of the old man says. Belatedly, he introduces— “I am Plasmius, and I am… like you.”

“You see me,” Phantom murmurs, breath foggy. No, that isn’t right. The ghost is squinting in general directions, as though Phantom is a glimmer in his eye. Phantom is a glimmer in his own eye in the mirror, so he understands.

“You are... foggy,” the blue ghost amends, confirming Phantom’s thoughts. “Something about you is wrong.”

“Thanks,” Phantom says sarcastically (a new ability, a new joke that he loves), “tell me something I don’t know.”

“What happened to you?” the ghost asks.

“I woke up,” Phantom says bluntly. “I’m here now. They won’t help me.”

“Their son— they ignored their son?”

“They have a Son?” Phantom’s eyes flutter— “is he the lost one?”

xXx

The ghost went back to flickering inside the old man, because the Mother charged in.

“Oh,” she sighed, “it’s just you.”

“Yes,” he says, and he glimmers and shows fangs and horns, “just me.”

Phantom does not like the way he is looking at the Mother, but he’s not that good at judging subtleties in people still, so he lets that feeling pass.

xXx

The next… Phantom isn’t sure if it’s the day, he fell asleep, but his naps are less and less, so he feels safe in calling it the next day… the next day, the ghost flickers out of the old man to float with him again.

“How do you do that?” Phantom wonders. Is it the key to not being seen, to guise oneself as one of them, as not dead?

“You should be able to do it, too,” the ghost mutters, “I see it in you.”

“The blue eyes and the black hair,” Phantom breathes. Like a bird feather that shows green at an angle, so too does his other, and this ghost is the same.

“But you are unstable,” Plasmius informs in a frown. “You never settled into one world, so you are stuck unable to traverse between them.”

Phantom blinks, confused, and Plasmius heaves a sigh of thin patience.

“You flicker a lot more than I do,” he informs bluntly, in a tone that suggests perhaps Phantom is an idiot. “And,” he tacks on, more contemplatively, “you seem to not remember anything, as though you’ve separated yourself from that essential connection.”

“Connection,” Phantom echoes, and he yearns for that connection. His entire soul keens for it, to fill that hole.

“Yes Danny,” Plasmius grunts, and that scorpion strikes again, “a connection.”

“I’m Phantom,” he defends, tapping at his ribs like he can knock the stinging creature off, away from his vulnerable chest.

“You’re both,” Plasmius says.

“Danny is the other?” Phantom asks.

“The blue eyes and the black hair? Yes. He is your glint, and he is the lost one, and he is just you.”

“Oh,” Phantom breathes, and the scorpion is writhing and striking his heart and itself and his ribs and— and—

He passes out, green eyes going out like a light.

—But the flickers, the flickers finger around him, crawling over his form like electricity for a moment, and his form is a patchwork of two, and his mind is a flood of memory.

xXx

“I defeated the ghost, last night, and he gave me your son,” Plasmius’ old-man voice rings.

And Phantom is Danny and Danny is Phantom— and as usual he sleeps. Memories came in dreams, an eruption after so long of being dammed, brought forth at simple acceptance. Despite the dreaming, or rather because of it, he is achingly tired, with zero energy.

This time, his family (the Family, the same) surrounds him in warmth, in that thread of connection, and inside, in more normal and soft dreams, he feels something become filled.

The scorpion crawls away into the soft, soft snow.

[It's late when he arrives in Cardiff, a few hours past midnight. His sudden appearance side by side with a giant black hound earns him a few curious stares, but he ignores them, taking off down the street and following the familiar twists and turns to the Cenacle, Vald following close behind.

[“There are those amongst you who are loyal to me still.”, he said and his mouth twisted into a sick, victorious grin, and if hatred were a flame, his glare could burn the world to ash.]

The hunter's heart is beating like a drum by the time he arrives, and it takes hunter a moment to realize that its beat, loud and clear in his ears, has not deafened him. No. The Cenacle and the area around it are completely silent. 

[Henry didn’t see the sharpened stone until it was too late, and the Holy Fathers white vestments were stained red with blood. “My God will forgive me, son. But will he forgive you?” Within moments, he was dead.]

Suddenly, a cry tears through the silence. Henry’s body moves on its own, kicking down the locked front door and forcing his way into the building, gun clutched tightly in his hands. 

The lower floor is empty. Upturned chairs are scattered on the floor and a broken table lays in a corner, its surface pierced by bullets. There’s blood on the floor, dried, staining the wood and carpet. "Whatever happens," he whispers low enough that only the shadowy hound next to him will hear, "you find Bran and get him out of here." He doesn't expect an answer, but he swears he sees the hound nod once in agreement. 

Leaving the main hall behind, Henry climbs up the stairs to the top floor two steps at a time, Vlad following suit. His heart beats louder and louder right up to that last step- then it stops, and for a second he forgets how to breathe.

Standing there, in that hellish chamber, Henry stares at the bodies of his friends, his family, and the hunters who had helped them when they arrived in Cardiff. The only blessing is that there’s less than ten of them, and there is no sign of the rest. 

In the middle of all the butchery and bloodshed, he sees Carys, one hand pressing a piece of cloth against a stab wound on her side while the other holds a dagger to Bran’s throat, forcing him there. There’s a thin cut on the boy’s neck from the dagger pressing too much -likely when he screamed- and when he looks at Henry, his eyes are red from crying. He’s trembling in Carys’ grasp, but the other hunter doesn’t seem to care.

Instead, she glares at Henry with her good eye, much like the Holy Father had before taking his own life, but unlike him, she scowls.

“Had enough of being the leeches' pet hunter in America?" Her words are sharp, hissed out through clenched teeth, and she forced Bran closer against her. "Huh? Or didcha decide to come make friends with the ones here too?"

"Carys, what the fuck did you-"

"ANSWER ME."

The blade on Bran's neck presses against the skin, forming another cut, and the kid bites his lips, barely holding back a sob. His whole body trembles but he doesn't struggle, frozen in fear, staring at Henry pleadingly. 

"One step closer and I'll slit his throat."

"Carys, it's Bran!"

"Better to die than to turn, Henry. And I won't let you and your leech friends turn him or anyone else just 'cause you decided to be their fucking lapdog.”

"Carys, please-"

"Stay. where. you. are. And drop the gun."

Another chocked sob from Bran tells Henry that the blade is pressing in again. He has no choice but to do as he's told, and he lets his gun fall to the ground, kicking it a good few feet away before raising his hands.

"'We don't get to choose who we fight with, we don't get to choose who we fight against," Carys' hisses out and Gwen’s words coming from her mouth feel like daggers repeatedly piercing Henry’s heart, "We only get to choose how we stand together. Against the enemy.' But that means shite to you now, doesn’t it? Aye, you decided to stand with the enemy."

"They're not the enemy, Carys; not all of them. You know what happened, what he did-"

"Shut up."

"Damnit, Carys, listen to-"

“They KILLED GWEN-“

“I KILLED GWEN.”

Carys glares at him, teeth clenched in a seething grimace. Her eyepatch has fallen away, revealing the gruesome sight of her missing eye, but she makes no move to retrieve it from the pool of blood by her boots. 

“Liar! I saw them! They tore her apart-“

“-They didn’t kill her, Carys. They tried to- to take her away, turn her, but I couldn't let it happen, not to her.”

For a moment there's silence. Then, the hand holding the dagger falls to Carys' side, and Bran scurries away, running behind Henry where Vald awaits. Henry waits until he hears the two go down the stairs; then he keeps talking.

“I couldn't stand up, but I had my gun. Two bullets left. I tried to stop it, tried to shoot the bastards taking her away but-…but I missed, so I aimed for her instead. ...'Better to die than to turn'.”

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut through and for a few seconds, neither hunter says a word. Then Carys is on him, screaming bloody murder and lashing madly with her dagger, cutting through the air to get to him. Henry tries to move out of the way, but he’s too weak, and she kicks him down, landing on top of him. The dagger is raised over her head, blood dripping down on Henry’s face, and he shuts his eyes, falling limp. This is it.

“EWCH I UFFERN, BRADWR-” 

A BANG echoes throughout the room, cutting Carys’ bloodcurdling scream short. She collapses on top of Henry, dagger cluttering to the floor next to her, the bullet hole on her chest soaking them both with blood. 

Henry keeps his eyes shut. He doesn't open them when the body of his dearest friend is lifted off of him, or when a pair of hands help him stand only for him to stumble onto the floor again, nor when familiar voices speak, their words lost in a hazy white noise. “Bran…where’s Bran..” If there's an answer, he doesn't hear it. The last thing he feels is being picked up and the slight motion of being carried away somewhere. Then fatigue takes over, dragging him down into sleep, and the world falls into blessed silence.]

Scene 1

DAINTY

(sneaks into Concepcion's mansion thru the window then place a device under Mr. Concepcion's table)

FOOTSTEPS

DAINTY

(hid under the table covered with cloth)

MR. CONCEPCION

(sits to his chair)

ASSISTANT

(hands him a tablet)

BODYGUARD

(walks into the room)

MR. CONCEPCION

I told you, I hate mistakes.

BODYGUARD

(confused)

MR. CONCEPCION

(shoots the guard)

DAINTY

(shocked)

ASSISTANT

(pulls the dead body away from the scene)

TELEPHONE RINGING

MR. CONCEPCION

(picks up the call)

I want you to jail my brother and drown his family in misery for messing with my son's success.

(drops the call)

CATHERINE

(slams the door)

Why do you have to do this?

MR. CONCEPCION

Listen, Catherine. You're not supposed to feel pity for them they're not you're family, but your Mom, Johnny, and I—we are your family. You must feel sympathy for us, they overstepped your brother and that's very disrespectful.

CATHERINE

Uncle Vlad didn't do anything wrong and the only mistake he has in his life is to be your brother.

DAINTY

(sneezed)

MR. CONCEPCION

(look where does it come from)

CATHERINE

(tosses the table to show off Dainty)

DAINTY

(raising both of her hands)

MR. CONCEPCION

(walks backward slowly to pick up his gun on his table)

DAINTY

(runs faster even before Mr. Concepcion point the gun at him)

MR. CONCEPCION

(taps Catherine's shoulders)

It's time to prove to yourself you belong to the family.

(hands her the gun)

CATHERINE

(accepts the gun)

Thanks, Dad.

Scene 2

LIGHTS DIM

CATHERINE

(waiting inside his Dad's office sitting on his Dad's table)

TELEPHONE RINGS

CATHERINE

(picks up the phone)

Bring them here

BODYGUARDS

(piggybacked Dainty's best friend—Ned and her best friend's mother with sacks on their heads)

CATHERINE

Tie them in the chairs

BODYGUARDS

(tie them in the chairs and leave)

CATHERINE

(remove the sack on Dainty's best friend)

Hey, how are you doing?

(laughs hysterically)

NED

Who the hell are you?

CATHERINE

You are the one who's gonna tell me how should I be? The person who'll free the both of you or the person who'll kill the both of you? Just choose.

NED

Don't you dare hurt my mother!

CATHERINE

Tell me where the hell is she?

NED

I don't freaking know who is 'she'!

(spits on Catherine's face)

CATHERINE

Your best friend, the one who saw the incident. Your best friend is the main reason why the two of us are now on the cliff. The one who left the two of you in the palm of my hands to die.

NED

She will never leave us alone!

CATHERINE

Have you seen her? Even her shadows are not here. She doesn't care about you and your mother because she only cares for herself.

NED

That's not true

CATHERINE

(unmasked Ned's mother)

You have to choose is your mother or Dainty?

MOTHER

Ned, I'm old and sick so please don't bother to save me.

NED

No, mom. Don't talk like that.

CATHERINE

So where is she?

NED

I don't know

(crying)

CATHERINE

You don't know? Okay.

(shoots Ned's mother)

NED

No!

(growls while crying)

CATHERINE

(proceed shooting Ned)

BODYGUARD

(heard the gunshots)

Why did you kill the two of them?

CATHERINE

They don't know where she's hiding at.

BODYGUARD

But at least you should keep one of them alive as a hostage.

CATHERINE

Don't dictate me, I know what I'm doing. Yeah, they're dead but that girl doesn't know.

Scene 3

LIGHTS UP

DAINTY

(sneaks in the window with a sling bag and sees the lifeless body of Ned and his mother)

I should've arrived more early. You two are the only person who accepted me wholeheartedly.

(sobs on mother's lap.)

CATHERINE

(walks in and sees Dainty immediately pulls the gun)

There you are.

DAINTY

Are you having fun? Killing innocent people for the sake of your killer father? What are you, a family of criminals?

CATHERINE

(shattering on her knees and falls)

All I wanted to be is to be recognized as Concepcion, as their daughter. But look what they did to me, they throw me out of their house just because I am better than my brother, and thanks to you they now know I exist.

DAINTY

I don't care how sad your childhood is! Even if you are an orphan in the middle of the street alone filled with bad people, hungry, and has no one to lean on that doesn't give you a license to hurt others!

CATHERINE

I also don't care for your opinion.

(points the gun towards Dainty)

DAINTY

Then kill me! Do you think they're going to love you? Do you think they'll accept you as their child? Go, dream girl!

CATHERINE

(shakey holding the gun)

They will!

DAINTY

Come on, wake up. They're just using you. You are a piece of trash they're going to throw after you no longer have used to them. You are nothing to them.

MR. CONCEPCION

(walks in the scene shocked at what's happening)

CATHERINE

(points the gun to his father)

Is it true Dad? That you are just using me and dispatch me after?

MR. CONCEPCION

Of course not. That girl is trolling you she's trying to ruin our family.

CATHERINE

(points the gun to Dainty)

DAINTY

Really? Then why do they only see you exist after your Dad had issues with me?

CATHERINE

(points the gun to his father)

MR. CONCEPCION

(raises his hands)

Don't believe her, she's lying to you. It's obvious. I love you, Catherine. I love you, my dear Princess.

CATHERINE

(points the gun to Dainty)

Stop playing on me!

DAINTY

I know it hurts but that's the truth. Truth hurts right? So if my words do hurt that's because they don't care about you.

CATHERINE

(points the gun to his Father and accidentally shoots him)

No! Dad!

DAINTY

Calm down put your gun on the floor so none of us will get hurt.

CATHERINE

(points the gun at Dainty)

You! You killed him!

DAINTY

You're wrong. I'm not the one who pulled the trigger.

(talks sarcastically)

CATHERINE

You're going to die

DAINTY

(shows her phone)

I already called the police.

CATHERINE

No, you can't. You're a con artist, you're also a criminal!

DAINTY

I know. Well then, let's go to the pit fire together.

(smirks)

POLICE SIREN

CATHERINE

(about to pull the trigger)

POLICEMEN

Freeze!

(confiscated the gun and arrest the two of them)

The Experiment Chapter 4

(Bro the spaces are even weirder on here)

On my way back to our alley, I overheard a conversation between a mother and a pro-hero. He is black with locks all over his costume. The mother has a small child in her arms. He looks about 5 years old. The mother is sobbing, and the child looks terrified, with red eyes, like he had been crying.

"Thank you so much… I- I can't ever repay you. I thought I would never see my baby again… nobody else cared… he was gone for so long… a month… they- they said he'd most likely be dead after a week. They… they wouldn't look anymore. "

"It's all right. I can't imagine if that was my little one. There aren't enough heroes who understand." His deep voice rang through my ears.

"How-how old are they?"

"Just over a week now. I gotta go. Be safe, keep him close."

I started to think, what would've happened if that hero wasn't there, if he didn't find him. Would the kid be sold? Experimented on? Obviously they didn't plan on killing him, or they wouldn't have kept him alive for over a month.

This led me to think about how many people are missing right now, with no heroes to find them. There aren't enough heroes in this world. Maybe Kei could be a hero. She would be good at it. She caught those freaks so easily.

I think of this all the way home. How Kei would be a good hero. On my way back, I hear a muffled cry. My head snaps to attention. Two figures are in a dark alley, one tall, with broad shoulders, and the other small, feminine, and young.

"Don't scream." His voice sounds disgusting.

A young girl, younger than me, looks terrified under his gross hands.

I creep behind him. He doesn't see me. I smash the back of his head with my wings. He falls to the ground, unconscious. The girl took one look at my scarred body and sprints away. She probably thinks I'm another villain.

I had a weird, happy feeling in my stomach, and I didn't realize the smile creeping on my face. It felt good to help people. Is this what heroes save for? This feeling? I liked it. Maybe I could be a hero.

I left the alley after wiping the smile off my face.

After I got back to Kei, I went to bed.

In the morning, I talked to Kei.

"I was thinking… what if we became heroes?"

She looked at me to see if I was serious, then burst into laughter.

"I don't want to be a hero!"

Oh. I didn't say anything after that. She noticed my silence and added,

"But you'd be a good hero. You could always just try for a school. and see if you like it. I heard U.A. is free, so long as you pass the entrance exam."

I thought it over. Maybe. I'd have to train really hard. I heard it's extremely hard to get into. Plus, you have to be smart. Maybe I could start working out and ask Kei to teach me. I never bothered before, I just didn't care. I remember those workouts that one winged guy taught me. What was his name? Keilo?

"Hey Kei?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you teach me school stuff?"

Her eyes lit up. "Sure!"

(Time skip: a week later)

My wing muscles are burning from the workouts I've been doing. I can lift myself off the ground now. I've been following the workouts that boy gave me. Thank god for Kei. When I need water, she's there, a fresh shower after every workout. She's been an amazing teacher, and I was a fast learner. My favorite was (favorite subject)

There was one thing that I didn't understand about Kei. Why did she live on the streets? She was smart, pretty, and had a strong quirk. I just could figure it out. It had never been brought up, and she had never told me.

"Hey, Kei? Why do you not have a house?"

She was silent for a moment, and then said,

"I was kicked out."

"Why?"

"My… my…. parents found out I had a girlfriend. They saw us kissing."

"Oh. I'm sorry… "

"No need to be sorry, it's not your fault." She said, faking a smile

(Time skip: Halfway through U.A. entrance exam)

I fly up to the 3 point robot, stabbing it with my feather-blades. That's 27 points! I just repeated that with all robots I saw, the ones that weren’t already being fought, that is.

(Feather blades look like this. You can harden your feathers/wings and shoot them out. [Like angel from X Men apocalypse])

(Time skip: After exam)

I don't have an address, duh, so I just put down a house a couple miles away from the alley. I hope I get in! I also put a fake name on my papers, for good measure. I don’t think any paperwork was done on me in the first place, or any records anyway, but better safe than sorry. After a while of deliberating, I end up with the name Y/N F/L/N. (fake last name, your real L/N will come in later)

The results are supposed to arrive this week, and I am currently at the house that I claimed I lived. As I open the mailbox I see 3 white envelopes. One addressed to a girl named Kyoka Jiro, which was coincidentally, also from U.A. the second looked like bills of some sort, and the third was addressed to Y/N F/L/N, from the U.A. hero course! I sprinted as fast as I could away from there, letter in hand, missing the pair of black eyes watching me from the window.

When I met up with Kei, we opened the letter together, and a hologram of Allmight appeared.

“Greetings Young F/L/N! I Am Here! To Welcome You! You passed the written exam, and the practical exam with a score of 31 points! Welcome to the hero course. You will be starting your long journey to the road of Heroism in class 1-B. School starts on…..”

Kei shrieks, cutting him off.

“YOU MADE IT IN! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU,” I open my mouth to say thanks, but she cuts me off, “HONESTLY, I DIDN'T THINK YOU COULD DO IT!”

“Uh, thanks?”

(Sorry for another skip, but nothing plot relevant happens between so, Timeskip: morning of 1st day of school)

First day of school! I’ve never been to school before! Kei says it’s nothing too special. I have to take a shower before I go, and we washed the clothes last night. Washing clothes is a weird process. We have to use this huge bottle of clothes soap that we rub in with our hands, and use Kei’s quirk to wet and rinse the clothes. Then we just leave them out to dry, or if we’re in a rush, use my wings. It takes a while, and we don’t need to impress anybody, so washing clothes is a rare occasion. Taking a shower is also a rare occasion, but I have a feeling it’s going to have to be less rare because of school. Kei got me deodorant the other day! It may not seem big, but that classifies as a ‘non-necessity’ so I’ve never gotten it before.

After my shower, I got dressed and I stretched my wings. Nowadays, I keep them out at all times, because, protection, the look, and they hurt to put back. They tuck nicely against my back so that I don’t hit much with them. I begin the long trek to school. It takes f o r e v e r.

Once I finally arrive at the infamous school, I spot a familiar face, or rather, hair. It’s the kid from the sludge villain attack, the one who all the heroes were chewing out. I was going to say hi, but decided not to, because it would be awkward if he didn’t recognize me.

On my way in, I notice more than a few people staring at me, mostly my scars. Whatever. I’ve never been self conscious about them, why start, you know? F you. I’d rather have a few scars than no arms at all…

Ok, class 1-B should be around here- Holy s h i t this door was huge! Are there giants here? Do I just go in? My lack of experience is really showing. I push the door open and glance around the room. Oh. Oh shit. They all have uniforms. I’m the only one not wearing one. I don’t know what to do, so I just walk in. Maybe the uniforms are optional. I pick a random seat, near the (back, middle, front) and sit. I end up next to a kid with pitch black skin and white hair. He doesn’t say a word. Good. I don’t want to talk. Unfortunately, the other girls don’t seem to understand this, and they bombard me with questions.

“What’s your name?”

“How’d you get those scars? Are they part of your quirk?”

“What’s your quirk?”

“Who’s your favorite hero?”

“Do you want to be my friend?”

“What are you named?”

That last one came from a girl with big, American eyes. She looks nice.

“I’m Y/N, What’s your name?” I tell/ask her.

“My name is Pony. I’m from America.” She says.

“Cool.”

To the rest of the group I say, “My name is Y/N, my quirk is Raven, my favorite hero is Midnight, and sure I’ll be your friend.”

They continued chattering until the teacher, a big burly guy with pointy bottom teeth and a glare, walked into the room and took us to ’orientation.’ During the assembly, Allmight gave us a speech about what fine young heroes we would become, and to do our best, Plus Ultra style! Then we spent the rest of the day learning where things were, the teachers, what we would need to bring, but most importantly, each other. Apparently, Vlad King thinks that socializing and making connections is extremely important for people our age. He gave us 15 minutes of free time to just talk before moving on with the tour.

The teachers called us out for a lunch break, and the food smells so good. I glance around the room, and, of course, there aren’t many seats open. The only one I see is an almost empty table, save for a kid with Half red half white hair and a scar on his eye. Looks almost like mine, but it doesn’t look like fire caused it. More like frostbite.

My feet are moving before I make my decision. It was like they knew.

“Hi! I’m from class 1-B, can I sit here?” I ask

He looks me in the eyes and says,

“No.”

“Oh. Uh ok…”

“You may sit over here if you please.” A feminine voice calls out. I turn to see, and it’s a really cute girl with a ponytail. She is tall, with black hair.

“Ok thanks!” I say, as I make my way over to her.

We ended up chatting for a while. Apparently, she is in class 1A, wants to become a hero to give back to the people less fortunate than her. Aka: a richy rich girl. I think we’ll be good friends. She even made me a uniform!

And my g o d Lunch rush is amazing. I haven’t had anything this good ever. To be fair, my standards are pretty low, but it was still amazing.

On my way back to the classroom, I see Pony being cornered by 2 guys and a girl.

“Stupid American! You don’t even know proper Japanese! Go back to where you came from”

I don’t think she completely understands what they’re saying. Naturally, I do what I would’ve done if I saw Kei being cornered. I walked right behind them, shouted at them, and punched the first one to turn around. It made a delightful cracking noise, as my fist made direct contact with her nose. Blood running down her face, staining her uniform.

“Bitch!” She shouted at me as her fist swung towards my side. I took a step back, and missed her ‘punch’ completely. One of the guys got into a defensive stance in front of the bitch, and the other stepped forward and tried to hit me. I simply hardened my wings around me, and his weak hit did nothing.

As I raised my fist to punch the bastard, I felt my wings soften back to normal and a string thing wrap around me. I stared directly into red eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"It's Danny."

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Ship: Vlad Masters X Danny Fenton AU where Jack and Madeline are dead and Danny lives with Vlad while going to college.

*Warning* Contains: fluff and feels Summary: Danny's parents had died in an accident related to ghost hunting a year or two ago and with no where else to go, Danny went to live with Vlad. There wasn't much of a choice involved, college was coming up. Jazz had already moved away for her school and couldn't support Danny. It was the responsible thing to do, and as it turned out, Vlad wasn't such a horrible guy.  When Danny first arrived at the mansion, he was expecting it to be a living hell but he was too numb to care.

Danny walked in and sat down on the bed in his new room. The room itself was lush and had a classic taste to it but Danny didn't really care at the moment. Vlad was leaning in the door way talking to Danny, not that he was listening. "Daniel!" Vlad said loudly as he placed a hand on Danny's shoulder, making him jump away. He looked up at Vlad, unable to mask the fear and sadness in the sudden reaction. Vlad withdrew his hand and looked down sadly at his "nephew". "Daniel, did you hear me?" Vlad asked softly. Danny used the back of his hand to wipe away the tears that hadn't formed yet and then shook his head no. "I was saying you could have those delinquent friends of yours over whenever you wanted. That Samantha and Tucker, I don't care much for teenagers but I know that this isn't easy on you and that you need your friends." Vlad said, showing a look of distaste on his face but also concern. "Thanks.. but my name's Danny. Not Daniel." Danny mumbled, not sure how much he should open up to Vlad. "Well..." Vlad started, choosing his words carefully, "When you are part of the Masters household, you don't have a cute nickname like Danny. To me, you are Daniel and I will expect you to respect that." Vlad said while taking a seat next to Danny, placing a comforting arm around his shoulders. Danny had to hand it to him, Vlad was being so much more attentive than he would have given credit for. Vlad leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, "Go to sleep Daniel." and left. The way he said his name still sent shivers down his spine, for the first time in his life, Vlad was being kind towards him.

This type of caring interaction carried on for a few months. They ran into very few problems, like bathroom space and music tastes, and somehow Danny was starting to feel happy again. Sam and tucker came to visit them one weekend a month, but Danny saw them at school a few days of the week so it was okay. The strangest thing that has happened is the way Danny is casually getting along with Vlad. They pass the salt at the dinner table, talk about their days, share their problems, rush to each others defense when needed and actually enjoy the others company. That makes Danny feel like maybe the reason Vlad had been a jerk for so long was because he was just lonely, and that makes him feel pretty bad for Vlad. Danny hadn't brought himself to tell Sam and Tucker that he was actually happy being with Vlad just yet, they still hated him. He planned to tell them today since they were coming over and Vlad would be out. ~~~~~~ The three of them were chilling out in the den playing video games and making jokes about the professors at school. Sam was casually splayed out on the sofa, laptop and text books within arms reach, Tucker was in front of the TV, gaming away, which made Danny wonder about his grades. Danny was sitting in one of the plush recliners, biting his lip from nervous habit. "Guys... Can I tell you something?" Danny tests the waters. Sam sighs and puts her book down, looking at Danny with a smile. "Finally you decide to talk to us! Tucker, turn that stupid thing off." Sam harps at Tucker with a firm but friendly tone. Tucker rolls his eyes and turns to Danny, only pausing the game. "What's stressing you out man? You look as pale as a ghost." Tucker says, punctuating his statement with a laugh. Sam roles her eyes at him in response. "Go on Danny." She urges. "I.. I'm happy." He says awkwardly, gripping the arms of the chair intensely. Tucker looks confused but Sam arches an eyebrow. "What kind of happy are we talking here?" She asks knowingly. Danny swallows his fear, he knew she would pick up on it. "I am happy being here with Vlad, he makes me happy." Danny says some-what confidently. Tucker faces him fully this time, "Dude, that sounded gay." He says with zero sensitivity. Sam shoots him a dirty look but doesn't say anything, waiting to see what Danny says. "Well, maybe it was." Danny says a little too fast. Sam smiles just a little, but Tucker starts with the typical questions. "You're gay?!" He asks, "Have you always been gay?" He keeps going without waiting for answers, "Were you gay for me at some point?!" He is getting louder now. Danny is cringing at the questions, he hasn't even excepted this himself and now Tucker is making it worse. "Shut up Tuck!" Sam yells as she hits him on the back of the head. Tucker stops his rant and sees how nervous and sad Danny looks. "Oh... I'm sorry Danny, I've just never..." He doesn't know how to finish, but it's okay. Danny knew this would be new territory for Tuck.  They talk about it for the rest of the evening, trying to normalize it. Sam gives Danny dating advice and good websites to learn about all things LGBTQ+ and invites him to the club at the college, Tucker keeps apologizing and sending Danny pictures of different half naked men that just make Danny laugh.  Just as they are packing up for the evening Vlad gets home and calls his hellos, "Daniel I'm back! I brought home some dessert for us for later, it's not for your friends though." At that Sam and Tucker both die laughing, thinking Vlad meant something else. "Is that his pet name for you? Daniel?" Tucker says, choking on his laughter. Danny blushes and gets defensive. "No! He just thinks it's proper. Please don't call me that ever again." Vlad waltzes into the den, loosening his tie and taking off his suit pieces. "What was that just now?" He asks, looking to the now silent teenagers. Tucker doesn't back down for once. "Oh, I was thinking of calling Danny Daniel from now like you do." He says with a smirk. Instantly Vlad has a disgusted look on his face and Danny feels hurt. "No. It's Danny, only Vlad can call me Daniel." Danny says too fast and too loud as he stands up from his chair, knocking text books over in the process.  Before Vlad can even get the words out of his mouth Sam is already packing up her stuff, "I think it's time you two went home." Vlad says, mostly looking at Tucker.    ~~~~ After some rushed and awkward goodbyes, and an encouraging pat on the back from Sam, Danny and Vlad are staring at each other awkwardly in the entrance way. "So... What dessert did you bring home?" Danny asks, wishing away the awkwardness. Typically he would just go ghost and run away but he hasn't gone ghost since the accident. Vlad looks at him annoyed. "Really Daniel?" He says flatly, stepping towards him. Danny freezes, Vlad was saying his name that way and it was sending chills up his spine. Danny would be lying if he said that he hadn't gotten off thinking about that voice before. Vlad ruffles Danny's hair in a friendly way, then drags his hand down to caress his jaw line in a more intimate way. When he drops his hand Danny exhales a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Why? Why didn't Vlad do anything? "Vlad..." Danny breathes out as he is walking away from him. Vlad stops and looks over his shoulder, eyes glowing in their ghostly way. Vlad only does that when he is fighting to control something.  Danny starts to step towards him. "Don't Daniel!" Vlad says in a thunderous voice that stops Danny in his tracks. Typically Danny would leave him alone when he got like this. They both got ghostly rages sometimes but typically they were easy to predict. This one just sprang up out of no where and he couldn't understand why. "Why Vlad?" Danny asks calmly, he was back into his comfort zone and that made him feel stronger and more confident than he had felt since the accident. "Why the sudden rage? Why the insistence to take me in? Why did you always chase after me?" Danny finds himself walking forwards as he asks the questions that he has been fighting to not ask this entire time. Vlad leans on the wall next to him and stares Danny down, searching for the words and deciding if he is going to answer. "Why you ask?!" He growls, scratching into the walls. "Because I'm dangerous right now." He says, his voice sounding more controlled. Danny laughs at this, "You literally spent years trying to kill me and now you are worried about hurting me?" Danny asks in between laughing fits. Vlad visibly bites his lip and Danny's eyes go wide. That was hot. "Things are different now Daniel, I feel different now." Vlad admits the last part in a quiet voice. This stops the laughter and gives Danny the push he needs. He rushes over to Vlads side and pulls him down by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. Not in a desperate or hungry way (even though he wanted to) but in a tentative and bashful way. This could get him kicked out, or picked up. Danny starts to pull away but then he feels Vlad nip at his lips, Danny opens his mouth letting out a silent gasp and Vlad takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside, instantly deepening the kiss. One of Vlads hands finds the small of Danny's back and the other finds his hair, he reverses the position and pushes Danny up against the wall. This makes Danny release a moan that he really didn't mean to let out. Vlad pulls away and looks at Danny with a terrified expression. "I'm sorry about this Daniel, you know how the rage can make you do stuff that.-" Vlad was starting to make an excuse as he backed away but Danny grabbed his hand and interrupted, saying "Stuff that you really want to do any other time of the month!" Vlad doesn't say anything to this but tries to straighten his clothes and Danny's. "Vlad, I am sorry if this bothers you but.. I like you, and I don't mean as a caregiver. I know that you love, er..-" Danny faulters as he remembers the situation, "Loved my mom but that just means that you should understand how it feels to fall in love with someone you shouldn't. POV SWITCH TO VLAD Vlad looks down at Daniel and notes the defiant look on his face. The words that the 18 year old just spoke stung; however, they belonged to an old wound that had already healed. Vlad no longer cared about Daniels mother, the only Fenton he cared for now was Daniel himself. That was the only one he had cared about in a long time. During one of their first few fights where Daniel got injured and was obviously in pain, he looked up at Vlad with those piercing blue eyes. Vlad's first thought was that they looked like just Madelines but the more he saw them, the more he realized that these eyes were better. It didn't matter what Vlad did to Daniel, he would always meet him head on even if there were tears streaming from those beautiful eyes. There came a point when Vlad had abandoned his original goals all together and only continued his villainous ways because that was the only way Daniel would see him. Then one day the boy called him up out of his own free will and explained the situation. Daniel had been experiencing signs of new ghostly powers, ones that he hadn't encountered yet, and when they were out on a family hunt something went wrong. Daniel wouldn't tell Vlad the details but he did tell him that it was his fault, the reason his parents were dead was his fault. As horrible as that was Vlad couldn't help but feel glad when it was him that Daniel turned to, never did he think it would lead up to this moment where he had Daniel Fenton pushed into the wall wish his clothes rumpled and hair a mess. "Daniel, you're wrong. I only have eyes for you, but that is the problem. A grown man shouldn't be lusting over an 18 year old that is the child of his late best friend!" Vlad exclaims, hating how desperate he sounds. He sees a small smile play across Daniels swollen lips and knows he should run. That child always smiled like that before he got what he wanted.  "But you aren't lusting over me. Do you love me?" Daniel asks, his grip tightening on Vlad's wrists like he is afraid to let go. Vlad uses his free hand and gently grabs Daniels chin, admiring the face that is offering him what he wants the most. "I love you more than you could ever know, Daniel."   Potential future fics in thus AU: Vlad asking Danny why he is the only one who gets to call him Daniel and feeling proud when Danny tells him why Vlad and Danny devling more into "the Accident" Vlad with a possessive kink and getting mad at Tucker and Dash Danny getting further picked on by people for being gay and Vlad uses his ghostly abilities to "get even" Danny and Vlad have a dessert night ;) Danny gets an F on a science thesis about ghosts because the teacher doesn't believe in ghosts so Vlad decides to inspire the teacher. Danny goes to the LGBTQ+ meeting at the college Danny tells Jazz about Vlad Vlad helps Danny feel comfortable with going ghost again

Vlad or Danny goes through a Ghost Rage which is much like and Omega's heat in Omegaverse stuff + more potential stories TAGGING: @septic-crankiplier (because you liked the post, lemme know if you don't wanna be tagged in these)  @dannyphans (Because it was recommended for me to? Sorry if this is a no?) If you want to be tagged in those or future stories just let me know! I don't bite! (But Vlad might)

Trouble in the Tropics (a Jane Bond story pt. 4)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

On an island somewhere in the Caribbean, one of the world's most cunning villainesses lounges—a stunningly beautiful woman in a white bikini who calls herself Ms. Blanche. Her secret resort is a small slice of paradise: dazzling waves tinted sapphire and turquoise gently hug its creamy shore, while a balmy breeze rustles the palm trees and the feathers of nesting gulls. She won it in a drinking match against a Hungarian prince and soon after had it redesigned to suit her needs. Though it was rather small, she somehow managed to have a great, white mansion of cubist design built on it, accompanied by a miniature waterfall for optimum relaxation.

The sun always shone on Pearl Island, yet there was a storm on its way nevertheless with Jane Bond and Esther Merald en route.

Steering their speedboat like a fine white steed, 007 stood proudly at the helm, her golden locks perfectly tousled in the salty wind. The sleeves of her silk blouse were rolled up,  displaying long arms and creamy skin, while her sunglasses glinted in the afternoon sunshine. Miss Merald stood behind her, dressed in a mint jumpsuit that billowed in the wind, her bare shoulders shining like smoky quartz gems.

The two cut a fierce and regal pair. Ms. Blanche could not help but smile gleefully as she watched them on the horizon. She lay on a chiffon sheet spread out in the sand, a white canopy over her to protect her delicate complexion. Two of her servants, Boris and Vlad, loomed over her in matching white suits, ready to tend to her every need.

When the speedboat came to rest on shore, Boris and Vlad drew their glocks, ready to defend their mistress, but she motioned for them to pause. She had no intention of killing her guests without letting them have a drink first.

The island was much too small to clandestinely sneak up on their target, and Jane knew Ms. Blanche was much too clever to not have some method of surveillance to prevent unwanted intruders. Thus, Jane proposed that they make no effort to arrive unnoticed.

It was a gamble, but Jane Bond was rather familiar with those. So it was with complete confidence that she ran towards Ms. Blanche, pulling out her Walther PPK. Esther followed close behind, providing an intimidating glare and emotional support (Jane often needed it).

When they reached her, Jane pointed her gun directly at Ms. Blanche’s face and said, “Don’t try anything funny, ma’am, or I will shoot.”

"Oh no, you've foiled my diabolical plan," Ms. Blanche sighed in response, taking a sip of her coconut cream cocktail with little alarm. It was obvious she was unconcerned about their sudden presence. In fact, judging by her subtle smirk, she seemed pleased to see them.

She rose from her reclined position and, after waving away her bodyguards and picking up the sheet, sauntered off in the direction of her mansion. Jane and Esther had no choice but to follow, albeit suspiciously.

The two had come across many fine residencies in their travels and had even lived in a few mansions in their day, but they could not help but be impressed by her extravagant (and somewhat peculiar) decor. True to her nature, everything---from the walls to the floor to the furniture---was blindingly white.

Except for, of course, the dead bodies lying in pools of blood in the kitchen.

"Mind the mess," Ms. Blanche said as she gestured towards the corpses. "I've been meaning to get the maid to clean those up."

"Absolutely marvelous," Esther said sarcastically as she gingerly avoided them, her cynicism masking her sudden urge to vomit. "It really adds some pizazz." She glanced over at her partner, hoping for an equally biting comment, but Jane was silently observing, deep in thought. She recalled the conversation she had hours earlier with Q, their quartermaster and computer extraordinaire. Because this was an unofficial mission, Q had to do some digging on the sly, and he had managed to find information about Ms. Blanche, also known as...

"Natalia Dorminov," Q said, showing a picture of the familiar woman on his laptop screen. "34 years of age and the daughter of a Russian crime lord and English baroness, so she obviously comes from affluent standing. She began training in ballet and gymnastics at age 4 and martial arts at age 8. She has been credited with over 30 kills."

"Acting as what? An assassin?"

"...She apparently has many temper tantrums."

"Does M know you're here?" Ms. Blanche asked curiously, disrupting Jane's flashback. When she was met with silence, she smiled wickedly. "Oh, someone's been very naughty indeed. If you died today, who would know? Who would come to retrieve your mangled bodies after I've fed you to the sharks---?"

"Natalia, my dear, what are you up to?" A new voice interrupted. An older woman appeared in the doorway, looking very out of place in a black turtleneck and black slacks. However, she held herself with an air of such confidence and intensity that Jane and Esther did not dare question her place there. Her blonde hair and blue eyes, which studied them critically from behind black-rimmed glasses, mirrored Ms. Blanche's so much so that it was no great surprise (at least to Jane) when Ms. Blanche frowned and said, "Mummy, I thought you were just leaving."

“Mummy?” Esther’s eyebrows flew heavenward.

Ms. Blanche’s mother smiled, amused by Esther’s response. She waltzed into the room, going into the kitchen (paying little heed to the corpses) to pour herself a glass of red wine. “I was planning on it, but I thought you could introduce me to your new friends first.”

Esther was too dumbfounded to respond, but Jane, ever charming, stepped forward and extended her hand. When she took it, Jane bowed slightly and brought the woman’s hand to her lips, saying, “Baroness Gillian van Derson, I presume?”

Gillian van Derson’s smile widened. “Ah, you must be the chivalrous Jane Bond that my daughter adores. It’s a pleasure finally meeting you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” She turned to Esther, who had finally recovered from her shock. “This is my partner, Ms. Merald. Esther, this is---”

“Mummy dearest,” Ms. Blanche finished, wanting to be part of the conversation again. She was pouting slightly, having the attention not centered on her. “Who said she was just leaving.”

Gillian waved her hand dismissively, taking a sip of her wine and making herself comfortable on one of the white kitchen stools. “Nonsense. If I knew Ms. Bond would be here, I wouldn’t have made other plans.”

“But Daddy’s waiting for you in Moscow.”

“Your father can wait. The Russian opium trade won’t suddenly dissolve because I chose to postpone the meeting. I’ll let Maurice know to wait on bringing the helicopter.”

At the mention of the opium trade, Jane and Esther exchanged looks, reminded of their reason for being there. It appeared they would need to apprehend two villains today instead of one.

Twenty minutes later, when they found themselves strapped to lab tables in a white room full of scary torture devices and glinting medical instruments, this proved to be a more daunting task than they were expecting.

Gillian, who had taken on a much more frightening expression, stood over them, her wine glass in one hand and a silver scalpel in the other. Her daughter, having done most of the dirty work, sat, disheveled and bruised on the counter near Jane’s feet. “That wasn’t fun at all. I broke a nail,” she mourned, examining a silver stub on her index finger.

“How unfortunate.” Agent 007 was of ill humor, having lost the fight. Natalia Dorminov proved to be very spry, and even though she initially had her at gun point, Gillian intervened by threatening to decapitate Esther, thus forcing Jane to withdraw.

“Now don’t be sour,” Gillian said with a smirk. “If it’s any consolation, I will have great fun dissecting your brains. You will contribute much to science.”

“Now now, Mummy,” Ms. Blanche protested. “You can’t kill that one. She’s mine.”

“I’m afraid you’re horribly mistaken, Ms. Blanche.” Jane raised an eyebrow. “The only woman I pledge allegiance to is the Queen.” And with a dramatic flourish, she broke her bonds and magnificently kicked Ms. Blanche off the table.

Ms. Blanche let out a shriek, and Gillian raised her hand, preparing to slice Esther open in response to Jane’s defiance, but Jane managed to wrangle the scalpel out of the mad scientist’s hand and free her friend.

Two gunshots and three karate chops later, the pair had escaped the white house of horror and were sprinting towards their speedboat. They had barely managed to escape with their skins, much less with the Baroness and her criminal mastermind daughter in captivity.

Bringing Gillian van Derson and Ms. Blanche would be a mission for another day. Until then, the cat and mouse game continued. But such is life for the daring 007 and her trusty colleague, Ms. Merald.

---

Gillian van Derson was of course modeled after Gillian Anderson (thanks @vavaharrison for the idea!). Sorry the ending was rushed :/