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talaok · 7 months

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I love your writing!! This was much bigger than the usual requests but I have so many fantasies and I would love to see them come true in your writing, sorry for anything. 💘

ok this just popped into my head, Pedro and the reader have been friends (she is also a virgin, it will make sense later) for some time, both with feelings for the other but not admitted, until one night, where they are both with his friends and mutual friends in a nightclub, Pedro is at the table with some of his friends drinking and having a good time, the reader and her friends went to the dance floor and the dances are getting a little hot, and one of the reader's friends( who are not friends with Pedro) start to make comments doubting that she is a virgin because she is dancing like that and is so sexy and Pedro becomes nervous and uncomfortable with the situation and when the reader returns to the table he asks to talk to her and tries to warn about these "friends" and ends up admitting that he felt jealous of her and decides to declare himself, just like she did after him.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

"and she says she's a virgin" He heard the guy to his right scoff, elboying his friend.

"ha" the other fucking guy laughed like it was funny, like there was anything to laugh at "Sure, and I'm the president of the United States"

His hands curled into fists by his sides, but he refrained because he knew you wouldn't have liked it if he did what he was thinking of doing.

First of all. How the fuck dared they talk about you like that? And furthermore, doing so while calling themselves your friends?

You deserved much better than them. Fuck, you deserved whoever was in first place for best friend in all the world, that's who you deserved.

And second of all, Why the fuck were they looking at you? He could see the way their eyes scanned every inch of your body as you danced to the rhythm... and god, god but the urge to put those fists at his side to use was getting stronger.

But just then, by some miracle, you whispered something to Jenna (a friend of yours) and started making your way back to the table, to him... and those fucking guys next to him.

"hey"

"hey there" the blonde one grinned "had fun?"

"yeah" you smiled, sweet as ever, and a wave of pure anger made its way to Pedro's body.

There you were, smiling that heartstopping smile of yours to those guys, guys who were making fun of you not five minutes before.

You deserved so much better.

You deserved the whole word and more.

"hey" he spoke, before he could stop himself "can we talk for a sec?"

He saw a glimpse of confusion flash before your eyes before you nodded.

"So what did you wanna talk about?" you asked as soon as you stepped out of the bar and into the chilly night.

You tried to lean onto the brick wall behind you, but a shiver of cold ran up your spine.

"Here" he said, not waiting for you to say anything and just placing his jacket over your shoulders.

"O-oh thank you"

"no worries"

You looked at him for a moment before you recalled what you were there for.

"so... you said you wanted to talk"

"right" he nodded, as if he too, had lost himself in you for a moment"I just... it's stupid really, I'm just-"

"I'm sure it's not stupid"you smiled reassuringly, shaking your head.

He couldn't help but let out a little sigh of relief,

you always had a calming effect on him

"it's just that- while you were dancing, your friends...you friends were..."

"what?"

"well they were being mean" he spat out "and I wanted to warn you, because sweetheart you deserve so much more than that, and they-" he paused, looking back at the bar's doors as if he could see the two men sitting right there "they don't deserve you"

"oh" you frowned, slowly taking in his words

"and-and they were making comments and looking at you like that, and I just- god-" he sighed, passing a hand down the length of his face to try and ground himself "I'm sorry y/n, I think I just-I was jealous"

And you had so many things you wanted to say and so many questions to ask, but for whatever reason a single word was all that came out of your mouth.

"jealous?"

his mouth opened but it took him a moment to find the words as he looked into your eyes

"Well I didn't want them to look at you like that-" he realized out loud "I- I wanted to be the only one who could do that"

He'd said it so fast, so quick, that even he hadn't realized what had come out of his mouth.

"w-what?"

"fuck" he muttered, his eyes widening "I-I- well fuck this is as good as time as any"

"Pedro what are you sayin-"

"Y/n I like you" he's said before his mind would catch up "Like a lot"

Now it was you who couldn't talk

"W-what?"

He watched the confusion crowd your face,

"I-I really like you y/n. And I-I don't know why I'm saying it now but I am" a silly, amazed chuckle left his mouth "I like you y/n, every single thing about you, every single moment with you- I just- I love it"

His heart was beating so fast he was surely going into cardiac arrest soon, while all you could do was blink to try and understand if all this was a dream.

"I-Are you b-being serious?"

He swallowed what felt like concrete in his mouth

"Yes" he nodded

"Y-you like me?" you couldn't help but smile a stunned smile

"I do, y/n, I really do, and I know this is not the best time I could have chosen bu- "

Your mind was a mess, but it still worked enough to make you able to shut him up... by simply crashing his lips with yours.

And even if it was winter, you didn't think you'd ever been so warm,

"I like you too Pedro" you laughed giddily as you leaned away just an inch "A lot"

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the-witchhunter · 5 months

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Question for the DPxDC crowd

what do you guys actually consider liminal? Like, I genuinely don't know anymore

because early on it was pretty much just Jazz having grown up with ectoplasm in the house for years and in her food, which makes sense, and it was an extremely rare thing

then it got expanded to Sam and Tucker

Then members of the Bat crew that got resurrected by a Lazarus pit(and Dick for some reason? He's never canonically died guys...)

Now it seems to be the entirety of Amity Parkers, All the Bat clan, half of Gotham, Half the Justice Leage, the entirety of the League of Assassins

is it just having come into contact with ectoplasm/Lazarus Pits? Prolonged exposure? Because it's starting to feel like everyone is liminal besides the guys in white for some reason

Like you guys have started using Liminal to basically replace the word "Ecto-contaminated" There is a canon word for the thing you guys have started using liminal to describe

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #it just feels like a cool idea got watered down #everybody is liminal #tim hasn't died guys #Dick hasn't died #it used to be just make people a bit off and unsettling like a cryptid #not a superpower #idk maybe i'm just burnt out on it #like ghost king stuff #legit i have massively reduced my fanfic consumption because of how often some tropes are tossed in randomly #and i get distracted because it doesn't make sense in context unless the thing actually means nothing at all #and it's enough to ruin otherwise excellent fics for me #it's Chekov's gun that never get's fired #more like referencing another fic's chekov's gun #yeah i'm probably just burnt out and am nitpicking a minor bit of bad writing that keeps getting repeated

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babyprime · 1 year

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low key vent art inspired by how totally normal i am about big daddy leo comes back in time aus

i feel like its easy to look back at your past self with hatred because of regrets. but if you were able to see yourself as the person you were, wouldnt you forgive them? or a step further, would you mourn them? would you want to beg THEIR forgiveness for what you turned them into?

#rottmnt #rottmnt movie #rise leo #future leo #my art #probably gonna write an associated fic #its just like. for one thing hes a kid. hes his sons age.#and another thing is that this isnt even the version of him that ruined his life. HE IS. this kid did what he couldnt.#and also he has to have had a lot of time to think and understand that he had literally no way of knowing what was gonna happen

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jon-elias · 4 months

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“I love you, Jon.” Elias, no, it’s Jonah now, repeats and Jon hates how the world isn’t falling apart around him.

He wonders how he got here. Here being at the near end of the world next to someone he thought he hated. Next to someone he knows he loves back.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know.” Jonah says softly. Softer than someone like him ought to be capable.

He’s done horrible things, yes, but so has Jon.

They both know this.

It, as much as everything else, doesn’t change anything.

They say it takes losing something to make you realize its importance, but Jon doesn’t feel like he’s lost something. If anything he’s gained everything.

The world is all but over, but he’s finally free from it all.

#I just love them a lot and I think they deserve to be kings in a ruined world #might fuck around and write a lot of je fics #here’s to another year of jonelias #had jonelias on my mind as per usual #jonelias #jon x elias

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jtownraindancer · 4 months

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Blore & Armstrong Running on The Same Wavelength: A Collection

#i can't believe this but I may write a fic now #burn gorman #toby stephens #toby's face gets objectively prettier to me each time i see him #my gifs #sgt. detective blore #william blore #dr. armstrong #doctor armstrong #edward armstrong #just-!!!!#how they kept looking to each other since the first day!#how they kept relying on each other's wisdom & expertise & professionalism #how fucking lost bill was when armstrong was gone-#ahhh i love tragedy~#and then there were none #attwn #i think there was a gif i put in the queue last night that my cat fucked up featuring some of these??? one of these???#idk man enjoy~#man i need a tag for burn now fuck #the burn collection #another brown eyed boy ruining my life #burn if you won't star in a noir film i will be forced to keep making my own #shut up ace #i think queue and I are gonna end up bloody #blore/armstrong

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ex0rin · 7 months

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Hughie Campbell | The Boys S02E07

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radioactivepeasant · 11 months

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Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

Splinter Cell au today! Last Splinter Cell was father-son bonding time, so today Jak gets to spend time with his mom

Phobos was a light sleeper even in the best of times. Here in this rebel base, during the second week of her and Damas rotating between Haven and Spargus with their children, even the slightest noise was enough to wake her. She sat up in her cot and let her eyes adjust to the half-light of the Babak settlement's barracks. What had roused her?

She let her eyes roam the long wooden hut, taking stock of each of her fellow Spargans and the members of Brutter's tribe. Leave it to a son of Damas to reforge the alliance between the Babak and the House of Mar by accident. Damas had been insufferable for an entire day when he found out. But Phobos found she couldn't be too irritated at him; the way Jak and his fluffy friend brightened when they heard him bragging about them was enough to make that stupid little smirk bearable. They walked a little taller any time she or Damas complimented them, Phobos had noticed. It was nice to see Jak opening up.

Thoughts of her newfound son drew her gaze to his cot, two beds over. With how restless he'd proven to be, Phobos half expected the cot to be empty. But it wasn't.

Jak sat hunched in the center of the cot with his knees pulled to his chest. Even in the gloom, it was apparent that something wasn't right. The fingers that gripped his knees were tipped with curved, black, talons. His skin had faded from bronze to an almost reflective pearl.

Oh.

Phobos had heard the reports of Jak's "Hunter" shape before, but she had never witnessed it in person. She took in the curved horns rising from his curls, and it struck her that the boy resembled nothing so much as the dragonowls that nested in the cacti in Strider Range. All he was missing were the feathers at this point. Even the flickers of violet sparks dancing across Jak's horns didn't diminish the fact that, in the context of desert life, the Hunter form was a little endearing.

Rising from her cot, Phobos shook out her tunic and made a show of stretching. From what she'd heard, startling Jak when he was in a battle-shift didn't end well. Stark black eyes zeroed in on her in an instant, tracking her movement. Phobos smiled at him and approached his bed slowly.

"Hey, little owl" she whispered, "What's got you up so late?"

His ears flicked up, then back -- a warning that he did not want to be touched, Phobos guessed. She settled on the very end of the cot and kept her hands where he could see them. Had he had a nightmare? From the things Tess mentioned now and then, Phobos knew the boy had more reasons for nightmares than most people twice his age. They may have been just acquaintances so far, but it rankled to know a young boy had suffered so horribly with no one to stand up for him.

"Are you alright, owlet?" Phobos frowned gently and tilted her head. "Has something disturbed you?"

Surprise softened Jak’s face. He cocked his head and mirrored Phobos's frown.

"You're not afraid?" asked clawed hands.

Phobos clicked her tongue, almost scoldingly.

"Why should I be? I am as dangerous as you are, owlet. And neither of us are as dangerous as the sea."

Jak furrowed his brow and drew his knees in closer.

"...doesn't feel good," he finally admitted. "Too much dark eco, can't let it out right now."

"Ah." Phobos sighed and shifted a little closer. "You're oversaturated? Yeah? I saw that happen to your father once when an ammunition crate broke."

It was getting easier to call Damas this boy's father. Easier to think of Jak as her own.

"It was a different kind of eco, sure, but it looked like it sucked either way."

If he had been Mar -- a strange statement, considering he had been Mar in another world, another life -- Phobos would have rubbed his back and hummed him to sleep again. But Mar was a toddler, still dependent on his adults for comfort. And Jak was just a few years shy of being old enough for the Arena trials! Most teenagers his age found such coddling embarrassing; Phobos could admit that she had been one such teenager once upon a time, cringing at her own mother's public affection.

But would Jak be the same?

He was so much older than their Mar, and yet sometimes she could see her little boy peering out from behind those bright eyes. He was starved for affection, but conditioned to distrust most touch. Unbearably lonely, but afraid of rejection.

Phobos bit her lip, then held out her hand. "Come on, Jak. Let's go outside. We'll get that eco spent so you can go back to sleep, alright?"

Jak winced and looked up. Fangs dug into his lip as he frowned.

"Can't. Might need it for battle."

"There will be more eco in battle," Phobos said. She stood and kept her hand extended.

"Come on, baby. I got you. I'll watch your back, okay?"

It took another five seconds of gentle cajoling before Jak uncurled himself and slid off the cot. He didn't take her hand -- he usually didn't -- but when Phobos looked back, he had the end of her sash in one hand, twisting it around his claws like he was afraid he'd get lost if he let go. He let himself be shepherded along the catwalks connecting the Babak village to the mine shafts. The humming of the elevator seemed to vibrate in his bones, through his horns, unbearably loud.

It was better to wake up in the stifling heat of the caverns, better to be surrounded by snoring, than to find himself in the harsh cold of the Baron’s laboratories. Better to be soaked with sweat on a creaky cot than to shiver while listening to the screams of other test subjects. But even here, even from the grave, Errol still held sway over his nightmares. That was what had gathered the eco into battle-readiness in his body, looking for threats that did not exist. Jak was a haunted man.

The cool night air washed over them both, and Jak shivered. It ended in a sneeze, and the woman beside him smiled softly.

She nodded to the cliffs above the cave network.

"Sig said he saw you scale a building in this shape, fast as a lizard. I bet you're even faster with real handholds."

She stepped back and squinted as if searching for something.

"I'll bet," she said slowly, "I'll bet you there's a couple hotfoot lizards up there, actually. You can eat those, you know. They don't taste that great, but they help your body regulate heat better for a while."

She shrugged.

"Why don't you see if you can catch a few, and I'll show you how to cook them in the morning."

Jak's sharklike eyes studied the cliffs, absorbing even the smallest pinprick of light. He grinned slowly.

"Eat them raw?"

Phobos made a face. "Blegh! You can, but you might regret it later."

"I might not."

"Oy!" Phobos shook her head and laughed quietly. "You sound like Damas when he was young!"

She wasn't sure if the subsequent darker hue of the boy's skin was a blush, or if the observation had made him lose a little dark eco.

Jak bent his knees slightly, and then with a rush of air he leaped; suddenly airborne, six feet directly up. One hand caught the face of the cliff, and soon he was scaling up the rocks at a dizzying rate. Despite herself, Phobos felt her jaw drop. She had never seen anyone but a Lurker make a jump like that unaided! Would Mar be able to do that one day? Or was this an ability only Jak had, learned from the Dark Oracle that favored him?

"Look at you!" She laughed in astonishment and clapped a hand to her forehead. "I oughta put you on the rigging in my fishing boat!"

Jak reappeared after a noisy minute or two with dark spots on one cheek that looked suspiciously like blood.

"Found the lizards," he signed down to her.

Phobos raised an eyebrow. "Did you eat them?"

"No....yes. One." Then he reached back and almost sheepishly raised the battered carcass of a Glub.

"Ohhhh." Phobos squinted up through the darkness. "You want any help up there? Or do you just want to hunt until the eco runs out?"

She knew the answer before Jak had even set the Glub down to sign again.

The moment she'd said "hunt", his eyes had narrowed and his ears flicked up.

Dark eco wasn't just the element of the ocean. It was the element of the hunter, the carnivore, and the tempest. The chase was in its very nature, and right now that nature was rushing through Jak's veins at breakneck speed.

Jak bared his fangs in what was either a show of aggression to Glubs, or a very unsettling smile. Then he dropped out of sight, and Phobos guessed that he was probably shimmying along the ground to look for lizards.

He would probably be up there for a little while. Phobos strolled along the small strip of beach, looking for palm fronds to weave into a basket. She somewhat doubted that Jak would remember to actually bring her any lizards, but she liked working with her hands nonetheless. Without really thinking about it, she hummed quietly, keeping a rhythm with her hands. It was a lively tune, a folk song so old that no one in Spargus really remembered where it had come from. In the language of the people who had once lived in the ruined coastal settlements, the lyrics were something to do with a wily cacomiztli asking a cockatoo to a Fiesta with her. She praised the bird's plumage and grace, and he, flattered, agreed to go. Naturally, the song ended with the cacomiztli having a very nice party meal.

A bit morbid, perhaps, but it had a fine, rollicking melody, and easy to remember rhymes -- even for those who couldn't speak the Coastwatcher dialect. And it reminded children not to trust a flatterer.

A shuffling of feet on the sand paused Phobos's humming, and she glanced up. Jak crouched less than two feet from her, watching with a bemused expression. How was he so quiet?!

His horns had receded considerably, now no more than little nubs poking out of his curls. He'd gotten some color back, too.

"Oye, owlet, did you bring me any lizards?" Phobos asked.

Sheepishly, he held up two lizard tails. Evidently, he had forgotten that the creatures could detach their tails and flee. By the mess on his hands, Phobos guessed he'd spent more time hunting Glubs. She laughed and patted the sand next to her.

"Better luck next time, eh? Here- go get yourself a frond. We're making baskets until you're ready to go back to sleep."

The dark eco continued to fade as Jak struggled to weave with claws. What little hadn't been expended on the small carnivores up the cliff was rapidly being reabsorbed into his bloodstream. When the dark form dropped entirely, Phobos almost didn't notice at first. Jak was as quiet as before, sitting still and watching her weave. She continued to hum until a raspy voice interrupted her.

"Did...Dax...teach you...that?"

Phobos glanced up and noticed Jak wince and massage his throat. She clicked her tongue sympathetically.

"Regretting eating that lizard raw, huh? Too bad we didn't bring our canteens so you could wash that taste out."

"It...was bad." Jak made a face.

With a chuckle, Phobos scooted closer. "Alright owlet, let me see what you've got."

She looked at the sad, lopsided basket, and took hold of Jak's hands to guide him.

"Here: over, under. Over, under. Do that all the way around until you have an alternating pattern on each stem."

Jak furrowed his brows and did his best to follow her movements.

"You didn't answer my question," he croaked.

Ugh. That taste was going to sit in his throat for hours.

"Which one, baby?" Phobos asked, reaching over to flick a coil of hair out of his face.

Baby.

Nobody had ever called him baby before. Well, not sincerely, anyway. Jinx and his guys did sometimes, but they called everyone nicknames like that, because they were weird.

They didn't have the same warmth in their voices, and they definitely didn't apply affectionate nicknames to his dark form!

"The song. Daxter's favorite when we were little. Did he teach you?"

Phobos leaned back. "It's been around that long? Huh! Didn't think the Coastwatcher people went as far as Dead Town."

Jak shrugged. "Daxter's not from Sandover either. He showed up in a boat a year before I did. Said a hurricane washed his village away and he was trapped in the boat."

Jak paused as something occurred to him.

"Wait. How far is your island from Misty Island?"

"Misty Island?"

"Where everyone says the Nest is," Jak clarified.

With how much dark eco had been there when he was a kid, he wasn't surprised that the metalheads had chosen Misty Island to nest.

"About two days on a propeller boat," Phobos said, rubbing her chin, "Closer to two hours by air."

The math lined up surprisingly well, and Jak began to wonder if perhaps his best friend had his origins on the same island he had allegedly been born on. One more thing tying them together; Daxter would be so excited!

"You telling me your buddy in the Titan Suit is a Coastwatcher?" Phobos asked with interest.

"Um...maybe? Have to ask."

Phobos whistled low. "When we go home, we'll have to keep the monks from snatching him. They're obsessed with history and archeological discovery. You tell them a Coastwatcher ancestor is still living and they'll lose their minds."

Jak laughed, almost silently. "He'd probably like that, though. It's rough being the last survivor."

Phobos wrapped an arm around his shoulders and, distracted as he was, Jak simply leaned into her. Phobos stilled, unwilling to jeopardize this moment. She smiled and set her basket aside to brush a hand over her son's hair.

"Well. Neither of you are alone now," she murmured. "And I can promise you, we're not going anywhere."

Was it her imagination, or did Jak lean into her side a little further?

They sat quietly for a moment, watching the waves roll in and out. Then, barely audible over the hiss of the surf, Jak whispered,

"Good."

#jak and daxter #splinter cell au #fic prompts #writing prompts #free day thursday #phobos #captain phobos #jak's mother #spargan ocs #jak and daxter au #my headcanon is that the ruins on the edge of the wasteland used to trade with sandover #and everyone in sandover always treats dax like an outsider so i figured hey maybe he came from another village #the descendants of the Coastwatcher settlements now live mostly in Spargus and don't know a lot about the communities lost in the hurricane #dark jak #dark jak gets to be treated with affection!#owlet is his mom's personal nickname for him now because of his dark form

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nateriverswife · 12 days

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I love writing long fics, I love developing certain aspects slowly and steadily over the course of multiple chapters, adding details/blatantly not talking about something and making the readers connect later the dots, etc. however, I'm generally a slow writer and it takes me a lot of time to get the chapters out, and when dealing with certain sensitive topics or something that might look somewhat problematic, it's very hard not to get a bit of anxiety over the fact that many people might jump to conclusions (which they often do), before I can even continue the story, because of the "you must address this right now or else" mentality I often see. and that leads me to want to either sugarcoat stuff in the story or overexplain myself when talking about it on other platforms, and I hate that, because it takes away from the narrative itself. I know it's a bit pretentious of me to expect people to wait the amount of time it takes me to update a story, but damn.

#does this make any sense. if anyone relates. knock once #like. while I love talking about it. there's always this voice in the back of my mind telling me that I'm ruining the narrative lmao #as I said in another post. I don't want to guide the story. the characters should.#and that's why I'll probably stop talking about my fics on here for a while lol #d.exe

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daddyplasmius · 7 months

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hand on my stupid heart flashbacks

this is a No One Knows AU & Full Hazmat AU where Danny ended up in the Ghost Zone & didn't go back into the human world initially because he thought he was dead. by the time he realized he is, in fact, at least half alive, he'd already been missing for at least 2 weeks. will probs never finish homsh sorry. i wrote this a couple years ago in a haze & just haven't been able to finish it because i can't replicate the style, which i find is what i love about this fic the most. it wouldn't be the same without it. posting the flashback introsーwhich are meant to be read between chapters/the actual plot, starting after chapter 1ーcuz fuck it. excuse typos & shit, i never properly edited it, as i forgot it existed immediately after i wrote it original description of homsh: Danny Fenton has officially been missing for over a year. Maddie & Jack Fenton refuse to give up on their son. Sick and tired of the police running them in circles, and the case getting colder by the day, the Fentons turn to their last resortーPhantom. 800~ words (full unfinished fic is 20k~)

When Danny woke up surrounded by thick, green fog, and couldn’t breathe without swallowing heavy air that was more like water than anything, he was sure he was dead. The portal glowed behind him, illuminating the pitch darkness around him in soft, yellow, warm light.

He almost went back.

Almost.

He was dead. His parents were ghost hunters. They had drilled into his head from the moment he was born that he could never, ever panic in death. That he would accept it. That he would not be scared. So he would be prepared to be brave in the face of death and would not become a ghost.

He panicked. He did not accept it. He was terrified. And so he woke up in the Ghost Zone.

Danny went back through the portal when he saw some ectopuses acting… strange. Like they had an idea in their heads. Like they had a plan.

Which was weird, with animal ghosts. He had only been in the Ghost Zoneーmom and dad called it that, he rememberedーfor a couple weeks. Or, he had already been there for two weeks. Or maybe time worked differently and he was there five minutes, or four years orー

The ectopuses went through the portal and, despite everything, Danny went after them.

While he was busy reeling at being home, the ectopuses immediately attacked dad. Danny was horrified. Jack was overwhelmed. Danny stepped in, in a moment fueled by sheer adrenaline and stupidity, snatching a Fenton Thermos™ off a shelf and releasing his shaky invisibility. The ectopuses didn’t stand a chance. And when they were safely in the Thermos, he slowly turned around to dad, ready for the confrontation. Ready for the “what happened to you?” and the “where have you been?” and the “we’ve missed you”.

Dad scrambled to shoot at him.

Danny fled.

His parents didn’t recognize him.

The Lunch Lady attacked when Danny was mourning Halloween.

He’d waited all year. He made a costume that summer. He wouldn’t get to go trick or treating with Sam and Tucker this year. Or any year. For the rest of his lifeーor existence. Whatever.

The Lunch Lady appeared in the school and demanded in straight fury, “Who changed the menu?”

Everyone pointed at Sam.

Danny hadn’t known just how powerful ghosts could be. His parents never told him the specifics. Just that they were dangerous.

This ghost grew and her aura hit him like a hurricane, almost physically pushing him back. It was so strong that the students in the Casper High cafeteria seemed to feel it too.

The Lunch Lady was a much harder opponent than the ectopuses. She levitated meat. She used it as a weapon, and seemed to bring it back to life. She created weird meat creatures that grew sharp teeth and claws out of bones. They were mindless, attacking everything that got too close to the ghost. Danny would have run away without hesitation, if Sam hadn’t been in the crossfire.

Danny fought the Lunch Lady. It was a long struggle, but he caught her in the thermos after over an hour. When he turned to Sam and Tuckerーboth of whom he had to save due to Tucker trying to jump into the fightーall three of them bloody and bruised, he cringed. But a part of him hoped. Desperately.

Surely they would know him on sight.

“Wh-what are you?” Sam gasped at him finally.

Danny flinched as if she had struck him. “J-just… your friendly neighbourhood phantom.”

Danny didn’t know what possessed him. Oh. Pun not intended.

He just barely caught the Fentons leaving in the GAV, dragging suitcases behind them. He couldn’t help himself. What on Earth were they doing?

They were going to Vlad Master’s mansion for their college reunion.

It was a whole thing. But something was off. Besides all the adults reminiscing about the 80’s.

Danny sensed ghosts immediately but he couldn’t see anything. Unfortunately for him, Vlad could also sense him. It was two days of Danny staying invisible, and Vladーthe halfa? Is that what Danny is?ーtrying to kill Jack. Somehow, Danny managed to fight off Vlad, not turn back, and without the Fentons getting hurt. His secret intact.

VladーPlasmius, also learned about Phantom. And Vlad hated him. The manーghostーwhatever, seemed to only care about one thingーpossession. Of money. Of things. Of people. He was more ghost than Danny had ever seen. Vlad’s obsession was overwhelming.

Danny couldn’t believe someone so much like himself could be so disturbing.

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny phantom fanfiction #you know that gif of the wailing emoji dissolving? :Why:?#yeah that's what i do every time i remember i never finished HOMSH while i still had the style in my brain #feel free to steal this idea. please steal this idea. please write it i wanna see this idea so bad but im already writing another 100k+ fic #if y'all want me to post the full fic i can but. it is not finished & most likely never will be. sorry again #i won't lie. the haze i was in was a depressed one. i was. not in a good place At All when i wrote HOMSH #like the only part i remember actually writing was the panic attack scene & that's just barely #i reread the whole fic in the middle of the night months later while listening to Implode Alright by Built by Snow on repeat #yeah i cried. this one is funny but mostly it's just. mourning. grief. the works. it's a vent fic & also a. kind of. wishful fic #like. don't you just wish death wasn't so permanent. don't you wish you could tell them everything you wish you could #don't you wish you could just see them again #i'm actually writing this into a bigger ventier series currently called Let Grief Do Its Work #cuz i rewatched LUCIDS again recently & remembered what HOMSH was originally about. why i was writing it #i'm not calling it HOMSH cuz. HOMSHie is my baby. it's its own thing & i don't wanna ruin the vibes #reluctantly admitting i call an unfinished fanfic i don't remember writing... HOMSHie baby... in my head #yeah i have a cute nickname for my fic. what of it #it's 5am & i think i'll throw up if i think any more about posting unfinished unedited pieces of a fic so i'm going for it. cowabunga #go into the world. get your 2 notes you beautiful animal #*passes out*

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