#but i understand now why everyone wanted more danny!!! danny was barely present and it's very sad
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A Ray in the Dark
fanfiction
ao3
word count: 2389
No one knows AU. Instead of being assigned homework or busywork for his recent detention, Danny is presented with two chairs and a teacher who just wants to talk and try to understand him. And after having a huge fight with his friends after bailing on them at lunch and a fight with his family that morning, Danny is actually willing to talk about everything and finally open up to someone. @darthfrodophantom
im not good at titling things ahhh
“Danny! It’s time to get up for school!”
Danny groaned as his mom called to him from downstairs in the kitchen. Either her or Jazz must’ve come by and opened his bedroom door. He didn’t remember that happening, but when he squinted his eyes open he could see through his doorway and into the bathroom. He sat up and threw his covers off of him and closed his door again. He grabbed a change of clothes and started getting ready for the day.
He had to fight a ghost last night. It made him miss curfew by an hour and then another one had popped up again in the middle of the night. He’d barely gotten any sleep before his mom called him.
After he changed he grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He ran down the stairs and set his backpack in the living room before heading to the kitchen.
He smiled when he saw his favorite breakfast food sitting on the table waiting for him. Strawberry pancakes and syrup with a side of eggs and sausages. He pulled his chair out and started digging in. He could feel his parent’s eyes on him as well as Jazz’s. When he looked up at them, they all looked like they wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. He slowed down on eating his breakfast. He knew what they were doing. They were buttering him up before they gave him bad news.
“Danny, sweetie.” His mom started. She wrung her hands together, looking to his left before she made eye contact with him. “We need to talk.”
He swallowed the bite of food that was in his mouth and shifted his gaze between the three of them. “About what?”
“Your grades have been dropping for a couple months now. You’re failing a handful of classes. We know you can do better. Your grades used to be so good. What happened?”
He leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stupid now. Not everyone can be as smart as you guys or Jazz.”
“Danny, that's not all that’s been going on though.” Jazz said softly. She placed a hand on his arm. “You’ve been coming home past curfew, skipping school. I even saw that you snuck out last night.”
He pulled away from her grip. “What?”
“You left your door open last night.” Jack said. “Jazzy-pants was going to the bathroom when she saw that you weren’t in your room. She came to get us when she realized you weren’t downstairs either.”
Danny crossed his arms. “Some sibling you are, snitching on me.”
“This is serious, Danny!” His mom exclaimed. “You’re never where you’re supposed to be. That can be dangerous for a kid your age in a city this big. You can’t do whatever you want whenever you want, especially when you aren’t passing any of your classes. It’s those things that are causing your grades to fail.”
“How do you know what’s causing my grades to fail?” Danny shot back at her. “This is the first time you’ve ever actually talked to me about it. Every other time you bring it up you make it out to be that I’m dumb, that because I’m a Fenton I need to get good grades. You never ask what’s wrong.”
“That’s why we’re talking about it now.” Jack said. “It’s gotten to a point where it needs to be addressed. Until your grades start to go back up, you’re grounded.”
“What?” Danny shouted as he stood up from the table. “Why?”
“We need to keep an eye on you to make sure you’re actually getting your homework done. You need to attend every class and be home on time so that your grades can get better.” Maddie said. “We’re doing this because we love you.”
Danny scoffed. “More like you love good grades.” He walked out of the living room and picked up his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder. “I’m leaving, then. Maybe if I leave early for school you won’t think I’m some kind of delinquent anymore.”
“Danny, wait-”
He slammed the door on the sound of his mom’s voice and started walking away. They didn’t understand why his grades were failing. He couldn’t tell them either. He was probably going to be grounded for the rest of his life if this is what they insisted on doing. He needed to talk to Sam and Tucker. They didn’t know anything about why he was suddenly failing all his classes either, but he could at least complain to them about his parents.
-----
Danny ran back into the school out of breath. He had to fight another ghost and it caused him to miss both his lunch hour and the class right after it. He was supposed to meet with Sam and Tucker during lunch, he’d been so busy all the time, giving them excuses about why he couldn’t make it to lunch. Today he promised them he’d be there, that he didn’t schedule anything for today but then this stupid ghost had to show up.
In the speakers above him, the bell rang and students started filing out of their classes. He slowed down so he didn’t run into anyone and looked around for Sam and Tucker.
There they were! He saw them walking out of their English class and started jogging towards them.
“Sam, Tucker!” He shouted at them, waving a hand in the air.
They turned around to look at him and he slowed down again at the expressions on their faces. They definitely looked mad at him.
He made it the rest of the way to them, still breathing heavily from running into the school.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. Something came up and I had to-”
“Are you really?” Sam asked coldly.
His brows drew down. “What? Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You keep bailing on us, dude.” Tucker said coldly. “You’re never around anymore. You always have some excuse for why you can’t eat lunch with us or why you can’t hang out. You say you’re studying or making up work but you’re not. You wouldn’t be failing all your classes if you were actually doing all that.”
“And if you’re not working on your schoolwork why would you be avoiding us unless it’s because you don’t want to be friends with us anymore?” Sam shot at him.
“What? No, of course I still want to be friends.” Danny looked at them with panicked eyes. “I just have a lot going on right now that’s taking up all my time but it’s not anything to do with you guys.”
“Why don’t you tell us what it is, then?” Sam asked. Danny looked away from her. They didn’t know. He couldn’t tell them. They’d think he was a freak, just like the rest of their classmates.
“That’s what I thought. Come on, Tucker. Let’s get to our next class.”
He watched as they turned their backs on him and walked away. He could feel the tears threatening to spill from his eyes and he clenched his hands into fists. He turned to walk to his next class when he bumped into someone.
“Sorry, my-”
He looked up and made eye contact with Mr. Lancer.
“Ah, Mr. Fenton. I see you’ve made it back to school. You seemed to have disappeared for a while there.”
“Uh, yeah. I got caught up with something. My-”
Lancer shook his head. “You’ll be serving a detention after school today, Mr. Fenton. Meet me in my classroom after your last class today.”
He walked past Danny to go into his classroom. Danny could feel his eyes welling up with tears again and he stomped away towards his next class.
Great. As if today couldn’t get any worse. First he had a fight with his parents and got grounded. Then he had a fight with Sam and Tucker, his only friends. Now he was going to get detention, which would only make his parents more mad. He hated today. He couldn’t wait to finally get home.
-----
Danny stood outside Lancer’s classroom door. The teacher wasn’t in there right now and Danny was debating whether or not he wanted to leave and go home or if he wanted to serve the detention. No doubt he’d get a call sent home either way.
He sighed and jumped when a voice sounded behind him.
“Hello, Mr. Fenton. Let’s head on inside.”
Danny walked into the classroom with Lancer following close behind him. He sat down at a desk, dropping his backpack down on the ground. When he looked back up he saw Lancer closing the door behind him. Danny looked around at the empty classroom.
“Aren’t there other kids that have detention today?” Danny asked. Usually there was at least one other person in here with him.
“Not today.” Lancer said. “I wanted us to be alone so I could have a word with you, Danny.”
Danny squirmed in his desk chair. Mr. Lancer didn’t often use his student’s first names. Something about some kind of personal vs professional boundaries. Danny didn’t think it made a lot of sense since they were just kids in high school but that’s just what the teacher did.
Lancer pulled his desk chair out from behind his desk and pushed it in front of the desk that Danny had sat in. He sat down in it and looked at Danny.
“Is everything alright, Danny?”
Danny just stared at him. Was this the only reason he had gotten detention today? So Lancer could try to talk to him one on one where he couldn’t leave?
“I saw you arguing with your friends earlier today.” Lancer continued. “And as one of your teachers, I know your grades have been dropping and how often you’ve been skipping class. I feel it is part of my duty as a teacher to make sure you’re doing alright. Has something happened? Is it a home issue? Do you need help?”
Danny was stunned. All this time since he’d gotten his powers and was fighting ghosts, no one had asked if he was okay. Apparently every single important person in his life had noticed something was wrong, but it took his English teacher to notice something for someone to finally ask him ‘are you alright?’.
He took a deep breath. “I don’t… I don’t think so.”
He finally let the tears fall. They had been building up in the time since his accident, since his grades started falling. It had been building up today when everything kept happening and it felt like there were no solutions. He didn’t have a way of fixing any of this without letting the ghosts attack Amity Park. And he couldn’t let himself do that.
Lancer turned and grabbed the tissue box that sat on the top of his desk and placed it in front of Danny quietly. He grabbed one and blew his nose.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Lancer asked softly.
Danny stared down into the tissue in his hands. He hadn’t told anyone what happened. Not his parents or his sister, not even his best friends. Was his English teacher really going to be the first person he told his biggest secret to?
He looked back up to Lancer, meeting his concerned eyes. He’s the only person who asked if he was okay. If he wasn’t going to tell him, who else would he tell?
“I died.” He said quietly. Another sob threatened to come out of his throat but he held it back. Lancer’s eyes widened at the admission.
“You died?”
Danny nodded. “It was the portal accident. The one that kept me out of school for a while at the beginning of the year. I turned the portal on from the inside and it electrocuted me.”
Lancer looked dumbfounded. “If you were electrocuted, how are you…”
Danny shrugged. “It killed me but it also did… Something else. It kept me alive at the same time. It just came with some side effects.”
“What kind of side effects?”
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After a few moments of steeling himself for it, he pulled on his core and transformed. He could feel the rings pass over him and after they were gone for a few seconds, he finally opened his eyes and met Lancer’s gaze. His eyes were even wider and he looked ready to have an existential crisis of his own.
“What? You’re- You’re the ghost boy?”
Danny nodded.
“Lord of the flies! Is this why you’re always missing class? Why your homework is never finished and you always look so tired?”
Danny nodded again.
Lancer leaned back in his seat, stunned. “To kill a mockingbird. If I’d known-”
“You’re not going to tell my parents are you?” A sudden spike of panic washed through Danny. He didn’t think about that part. Teachers were obligated to tell parents certain stuff, right? This seemed like it would fall under the ‘something your parents should know about immediately’ category.
“No! Of course not!” Lancer met his gaze again. He looked nearly as panicked as Danny. “I’m not daft, Mr. Fenton. I’ve seen how your parents follow your ghost self around town with weapons brandished at the ready. I would never put you in danger like that.”
Danny heaved a huge sigh of relief. He slumped down in his seat and closed his eyes. He heard Lancer take a deep breath of his own.
“I’m not going to pretend like I understand how any of this happened.” He said. “But, I do understand that you need some serious support right now.”
Danny opened his eyes. “What kind of support?”
“We can start with accommodations for your schoolwork. We’re going to make a plan for you so that you can still get your assignments done and do whatever you need to do as your ghost self.”
As Lancer kept talking, a warm feeling was growing in Danny’s chest. For the first time since he started fighting ghosts he felt like he’d be able to do this. Like he’d be able to be more than just a disappointment or monster to his friends and family.
“Thank you.” Danny whispered.
“You’re welcome, Danny.”
#gorgi writes#danny phantom#danny fenton#mr lancer#maddie fenton#jazz fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#phic phight 2023#fanfiction
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alriGHT so i watched 9x11! and i wasn’t blown away by any means but i kind of liked it? or maybe i just think so because i’d prepared myself for even worse things? so here’s my semi-liveblog:
steve and danny reunion!! it was good!!! that hug was oddly bro-ish in its constant backslapping (steve’s hurting, so just hold him, danny??? let yourself be held for a second, steve???), but the words were less no homo, at least
steve’s been there for a month, whoa
and then catherine comes out of the house and i was like, oh gosh, i’m a little scared of what they’re doing here
but... they were torturing a guy inside. they’re not even pretending that was a lovenest somehow they were just. straight up torturing a guy for information
then they’re at the airport getting ready for the plane and they meet up with junior and wade gutches, and look, i love catherine, okay? i’m not a huge fan of cath/steve at this point in the series (meaning i’d love for them to still be friends but i want the writers to please, please let all romantic connotations in that relationship finally die), but catherine, i love. but the way she’s acting all familiar with junior and wade suddenly? that was so awkward to me and i liked her “call me catherine” thing towards junior in principle but it was just... really awkward (and i’m not even completely sure why, but i think it just grates on me that this is a way that they’re making it look like she’s been involved in steve’s life when she seriously hasn’t for a long time. it’s unfair to almost all the characters)
then they’re ON the plane and steve has this flashback to his first night with greer and obviously she’s bad, we know she’s bad, but ??? they’re really cute here
except for the bit where she tried to get him to join the cia. that’s not steve. just let him eat his chinese and smile for once without trying to push him in some way pls.
and then the flashback ends and catherine asks him where he went mentally and he didn’t actually say “to that time i had sex with the woman i now hold responsible for the tragic and traumatic death of yet another parent figure in my life” but oh boy
(side note, at this point i’m very confused about if they’re trying to give us steve/cath vibes or not. on the one hand there’s the way she appeared in the episode and the things they made danny say about playing house, but on the other here’s steve, sitting literally right next to catherine, lost in thought about his sex-filled weekend with another woman, and they made cath the one to ask him about his thousand yard stare which... i don’t know how to interpret that)
adam: “i still remember getting love letters in high school.” tani: “oh, of course you do. look at you, that face, those dimples. i’d have been all over that in ninth grade.” fdjkfdjk i loved this. (and their case so far seems pretty interesting as a sideplot! it’s just that i can’t pay as much attention to that because i’m trying to keep this commentary away from war and peace lengths)
i love that harry’s first line in this entire episode (and the way he greets steve) is a warning about how terrible the cocktails at the bar are. that’s definitely harry
“oh and um, for the purposes of this operation, you two are married.” oh NO harry what are you doing
danny’s extremely unsmiling “mazzel tov” gives me life though
okAY harry is really giving me a rollercoaster ride here. now he’s saying steve looks “absolutely magnificent in that tux”, making cath say that steve’s spoken for and danny accuse harry of being a kiss ass. ??? SO much to unpack there omg
okay so in the end this undercover as married thing that steve and cath do lasted for two seconds and was really just slapped on. it served barely any purpose and i’m relieved they didn’t linger on it because i never wanted it in the first place, but it was also super weird, because if you’re going to put something like that in your canon episode, then at least do something with it. read some fic, h50 creators, and learn how it’s done
catherine asks steve how he’s doing! and that’s really good because people should ask him that more often, except, uh, why is she doing it now? i get that this might have been easiest to work in for the writers, but... she was already at the ranch when danny turned up, so i’m assuming she’d been with steve for a couple of days at least of that month that he’d been there? so... she decided to just wait until right in the middle of their mission to try to talk to him about his crippling feelings of guilt over joe’s death??? why, writers???
greer once said unfair things about steve to cath (out of pure manipulative jealousy, it seems) and all catherine has to say about it is that it was before she and steve started dating and that she didn’t believe anything greer said anyway and that’s good. let’s keep the unnecessary drama out of this (for once)
djfkd danny’s role in this episode (after that very first scene) seems to just be “sit/stand next to people who are competently hacking stuff, look serious, and say maybe two lines of quips”. first with harry, now with catherine in some van
um. this whole storming of the building and killing a bunch of people to avenge joe’s death is an unsanctioned mission they’re undertaking because it’s personal, right? that’s why it’s such a weird team with no backup? so... when the police turned up (even if it was as a favor to harry), shouldn’t they have arrested all of them, including cath and danny? haven’t they been doing a bunch of illegal stuff?
i did like the twist that harry’s random pretty woman in the city that he alluded to earlier is actually a super competent police woman, though. that’s nice.
this scene all the way at the end is where steve is wearing joe’s super soft looking warm jacket!!! i love him in that. it looks so comfortable.
aaaand wade is telling steve to find himself a good woman. why is everyone always so eager to meddle in his love life omg
wade also says that steve won’t follow wade’s advice to give retirement some thought? which is pretty hilarious after steve and danny spent a year and a half misguidedly trying to open a restaurant specifically as a retirement plan. but no, steve has never once thought about retirement, not ever
wait oh god “you still don’t know, do you? joe wasn’t just a father figure... my mentor. he brought you into my life, catherine.” ... are we doing this? we’re doing this. it was all going so well until now.
a flashback! that we’ve already seen once! of joe telling steve to ask cath out! oh god!
oh. but. there’s also this new bit of steve in the hospital after his mission with joe, calling cath to ask her out for the first time, and that’s kind of sweet. that’s okay. (as long as it stays in the past.)
WAIT. catherine: “what took you so long?” listen, this might be just me, but i associate those exact words heavily with that episode in s7 where danny and grace are taken hostage at grace’s school dance and steve rescues them and then, as they’re walking off into the sunset, danny goes “what took you so long, huh” just after he invited steve for a hug, a kiss, or to pick a base. hmmmmmm.
oh!! the flashback ends and we get catherine close to crying, saying she’s glad steve took joe’s advice back then, and steve agrees and they hug and then she just... leaves. there’s nothing that feels like “let’s start our thing back up” in what she does, she’s just glad that they had that time together and she says she’ll see him next time and that’s it? THAT’S ALL I WANT.
are they going to ruin it by making steve think about joe’s more recent advice to find himself a woman and making him associate that with catherine too? they probably are, aren’t they
THEY DID NOT. WHOA. not yet, anyway, but for the moment i’m 100% satisfied.
no, i’m not, there’s a lot of things about this episode that i missed (danny was just window dressing? wade and cath got a goodbye scene but harry didn’t? frank’s daugther appeared literally five seconds and i thought we’d see at least very slightly more of her than that but apparently that was all? the case back on hawaii got wrapped up really suddenly?) BUT i’m still very, very relieved on the whole by the way they handled the steve & cath thing. it could still be read as romantic, but it wasn’t explicitly so. for the most part they acted like exes who are friends and that’s just. that’s just exactly what it want for them??? i’m glad.
#h50#i have very complicated feelings about steve and catherine but i'm mostly okay with how their interactions went down in this episode?#which surprises me a lot tbh#but i understand now why everyone wanted more danny!!! danny was barely present and it's very sad#*#9.11
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Oh! Sorry! I just thought you did write imagines...but I will tell you my idea...I was wondering how the mud dogs would feel having a kindhearted girl in the group that is a nurse and and each of them (separately) have a crush on her? (can this be a headcannon?) but it’s ok if you don’t do it. I also like your blog and your drawings of ocs! They’re very cute!
Rottmnt Mud Dogz! Headcanons!
If you were the kindhearted nurse of the team and if the Mud Dogz started to develop feelings for you!
( I decided to do this gender-neutral so everyone can get their love from the Mud Dogz! Hope that’s okay!)
Also, anyone can make requests or asks! The reason I don’t really have it placed in my blog is because there are some requests where I just stare and I’m like: I don’t have enough creativity to come up with anything oh heck I don’t want to let someone down. So, don’t be afraid to send anything!
Hope you guys enjoy it!
Loathsome Leonard
-He didn’t pay no mind to you at first, his group was okay with you joining in seeing that they were going to hurt on most heists so he respects you.
-It takes a long and hard time to get close to Leonard, he’s the leader after all, and he doesn’t want to continue adding people to his group and then see them either leave, die, or backstab them.
-Of course, he isn’t rude to you, he just doesn’t talk much about plans and heists when you’re around at first and there is barely any small talk between the two of you in the beginning.
-Until one night he goes off on his own without the other guys knowing and stumbles back terribly wounded and can’t make it back to their apartment, but your place is closer.
-You were asleep when you heard the strangled yet urgent knock on your door and you quickened your pace when it started to repeat in more rapid strings.
-You can’t help but gasp at the sight of Leonard, beaten and bloody as if he had just starred in a horror movie and you rush him in, setting him in the chair in your kitchen before gathering your medical supplies you had in your home.
- In silence you help him take off his shirt and put yourself to work, cleaning and dressing his cuts and gashes, all while handing him water to drink and a towel to play with when the pain gets unbearable.
“Where are Danny and Mickey? Are they wounded as well?”
“No, it’s only me.”
“Did you...did you go out on your own Leonard?”
“...”
-Your once nice outlook is now casted with anger as you stand and throw the damp cloth you had used to clean his shoulder wound into the trash with such force that it almost startled him.
Almost.
“You know, for someone who works so hard to make sure his teammates don’t do stupid stunts, you suck at taking your own advice.”
-That causes a surge to burst through him; he had never heard you speak like that before, never spoken your mind with such raw rage. And when he goes to fire something back, your hand is under his chin and shushing him, taking a new wet rag and cleaning a cut that sliced down his cheek.
-”Next time, just tell them, and me. Trust has to go both ways, and since I trust you -” You tilt his head until he is looking up at you, the first prickle of tension bubbling his skin.
“You should trust me.”
-And oh he’s hooked now and nothing can smother it.
-He’s sudden embarrassed and possibly even scared to be around you alone, afraid that his words will slip up or he'll do something stupid in front of you.
-You’re just so smart and kind, but that more dominant and stronger side of you has caused his heart to beat faster when you enter the room and he despises it. He can’t let his emotions get caught up in the missions and...you deserved better, someone who just wasn’t a lowlife thief.
-But, he’s warmer around you, and will actually create a conversation with you about yourself and how you are doing instead of just talking about the next heist.
Dastardly Danny
-For once, the rat yokai doesn’t have to play doctor in the group once you join the band of thieves. It’s a great change of pace because for one he never went to medical school and only learned to clean wounds just by experience.
-He would be super intrigued by your understanding of the yokai and/or human body and how to treat and dress each different type of wound. He would probably ask to be placed under your wing in case you were injured or couldn’t make it in time (also to spend time with you).
-He’s a huge talker with you and would possibly be the one in the group who would fully understand the scientific words you spit out sometimes.
-Danny knows and understands his feelings pretty well, and once he realizes he has developed an infatuation with you, he falls head first into it.
-He’ll go to you and make the cheesiest and gooiest jokes that play in with you and your job profession and boy does it make Leonard and Mickey gag.
“I don’t think you can diagnose me because there’s no treatment for being madly in love, dollface.”
“Danny, sit still, you keep reopening the cut!”
-Instead of getting you flowers and chocolates, he understands the expense of medical supplies and you come by to find new needles, clean cloths, and antibiotics all wrapped up and presented nicely with your name on it.
-After hours of sewing cuts and bending arms back into their sockets, Danny would still crawl over to the kitchen and make you your favorite drink, even if he broke both his legs.
-Of course, he loves to make you a flustered and stuttering mess, especially during dire moments such as him with a bullet wound and you’re desperately trying to seal the blistering hole. He’ll look right at you and horsley state, “Bleeding out like this doesn’t seem too bad if you keep touching me like dat’.”
-Would def. Give you the nickname doc, nothing will change that.
Malicious Mickey
-Honestly, you can impress this sweet guy with anything, from knowing what ointment to apply on certain cuts and then easily telling him facts about his internal organs, you make the guy have that astounded look of a child.
-He probably wouldn’t understand a single word if you explained to him how the body works or why certain medicines only work for certain illnesses and infections, but he will certainly show his wonderment in the information.
-He would probably start falling for you since you are kind, you place care in his wounds. Not saying Danny didn’t, but you placed colorful stickers on his cuts and then started to bring pieces of candy only for him (for a second, he believed you only saw him as a brother and it worried him).
-Mickey would be the only one in the group to remember the most random facts you have told that shocks everyone, even you. It shows that he listens, just doesn’t understand.
-He would try to make jokes like Danny does when he’s wounded but he’s just so baffled at how fast and calm you work on him that he will just state how pretty you are or how your nose will ruffle up when you’re concentrating on something.
-Will probably come and visit you at your workplace and you will have to hide him because he’s a literal criminal like jeez Mickey someone can recognize you.
-When hanging out, he’ll ask certain questions about his specific internal workings and then about Leonard and Danny, and then what were your favorite things to learn from medical school. It feels great for someone to be interested in what you know, and even though you will go into a huge rank about certain things and he just stares at you, you know that he cares.
-The poor sweet boy would die inside once you two started to date because you got to kiss his bruises and smaller cuts before continuing on to the bigger wounds and he would play with your hair and curl around you after a hard day at work.
#rottmnt#rottmnt mud dogs#tmnt#rottmnt dastardly danny#rottmnt mud dogz#rottmnt loathsome leonard#rottmnt mud dogz x reader#rottmnt malicious mickey
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Hallway - Day Twenty Five
Quite honestly, the classroom didn’t know how to react to Phantom joining their lesson spontaneously during the day.
The ghost had walked through the door, curled in on himself, hands pressed to his abdomen, barely able to keep his eyes open. He was out like a light. No one knew what to do.
“Should we wake him?” Star asked, looking across her desk at the ghost to her left. The class was silent, their eyes timid with fear. No one had ever been this close to Phantom before, who knew how he’d react to them waking him up.
“I think we should leave Mr Phantom to take a nap.” Edward Lancer responded, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the teenager. Nineteen-Eighty-Four, he didn’t know why the ghost was here, but he looked exhausted. Fighting ghosts all the time would be draining.
“I can’t believe it’s really him!” Paulina cooed and edged forward, which encouraged her classmates to crowd around the hero. The ghost boy had his head laid on the desk, white bangs a stream on the table, hand tucked underneath his head.
“Look at his little chubby cheeks!” She prodded his cheek, which was squished by his hand, gently.
“I say we let him stay. Much better than having Freako Fenton here.” Dash smirked.
Ah yes, that reminded them. Phantom was currently slouched in Danny Fenton’s seat, the latter who was nowhere to be seen. Strangely, the boy hadn’t been present the whole day.
His inseparable friends, Tucker and Sam, who normally had very vocal and adamant opinions about Phantom, were strangely quiet. Sam opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again.
“See? He is Phantom! Why else would Phantom go into Fenton’s seat unless he sat there — not to mention he’s sleeping like Fenton always does.” Wes Weston hissed from the seat behind, and struck a foot out to hit the back of Phantom’s chair.
“Hey, watch it!” Dash protested, hands curling into fists. The rest of the class watched the ghost as he mumbled lightly, adjusting his hands.
“Mom, you don’t understand…’ the ghost murmured.
“Mom?!” The class recoiled. Could ghosts have families?
“But.. but the Fenton’s said that ghosts didn’t have families…” From the other side of the classroom, Valerie drew off, her jaw dropped. It couldn’t be true, could it?
The malevolent nature attributed to all ghosts, and Phantom wasn’t any different. He just claimed to be good, but it was all an act, right?
But how far would the facade of compassion really go?
“Class! Settle down. Let him be.” Edward Lancer instructed the class, and the students moved a few steps away, yet their eyes still remained tranced on the ghost.
Phantom mumbled something under his breath and shifted a little more, hands clenched into fists.
This didn’t go unnoticed by the students, who braced themselves in fear. God, the Fenton’s were right, weren’t they? Phantom could, and probably would attack them any second now.
“I’m, I’m sure it’s nothing.” Star whispered, pressing her back to the window, and the class crept behind their desks, all for two students — Sam and Tucker.
“Of course it’s not! He’s a good ghost.” Tucker Foley protested, his eyes looking on with pained sympathy, for who he was pitiful for, nobody knew but him and Sam.
“He’s my ghost boy. He can’t be bad!” Paulina piped up. Heck, she’d been poking him a minute ago. Just, just a little scare.
None of them knew how Phantom would react, and the ghost shifting and clenching his fists had understandably shaken them.
“Listen! Please — please listen!” The ghost's voice pierced the room, broken and fragile.
All the teenagers' eyes seemed to lock to each other at the same time in understanding. Phantom was having a nightmare.
“You don’t understand!” Another shrill cry, and then a bright blast of green shot out and hit a nearby desk, leaving a charred and smoking spot.
“Everyone stay back.” Out of all the people, to the surprise of most, Sam Manson instructed calmly, despite her frantic look over to Phantom every few seconds, as if she wanted to help.
“Are you stupid, Manson?” Paulina yelled, ducking back as another green blast narrowly missed her, hitting the wall. The teenager crouched behind a desk to the left of the room, peering over it, “I know you’re a goth, but I didn’t think you wanted this much of a death wish!”
“You’ve got to trust me, okay?” asked Sam, her eyes scanning the room, a clamour of students in the midst of crouching behind desks and pressing themselves to walls blinking back at her owlishly.
“Miss Manson, I think it would be best if we evacuated the premises — Phantom is dangerous.” Edward Lancer, suddenly out of his terrified stupor, stood up and briskly approached the classroom door.
“Danny is not dangerous.” The girl’s voice sliced with a definite ferocity.
Any fear the class had was distinguished for a few mere seconds.
“Danny? What are you talking about? That’s not your boyfriend Manson, that’s a ghost.” Dash narrowed his eyes, arms folded.
What was the girl talking about? Was she on another planet? Did she somehow think the ghost was Danny Fenton?
“No, you moron, his name is Danny.” the goth rolled her eyes, “Y’know, the name he had when he was human.”
Somehow, that hadn’t occurred to them. Phantom had been human once. A teenager, just like them. Danny.
And for once, when they looked at the desk with the crumpled heap of the hero, trembling, whimpering, clenched to the table with green tears dampening his face — they couldn’t see any other than a terrified kid.
Not a fierce, brave and headstrong ghost that was malevolent and sporadic in his actions — just a kid that messed up sometimes, trying to do his best for the town.
Danny Phantom. It felt strange to say it.
It somehow felt easier to be scared of Phantom, than pity the snivelling ghost clinging to a classroom desk. It was just easy to dismiss that Phantom had been human.
“If you know that, then how much else do you know?” Valerie questioned. She needed knowledge on the ghost, and this would be the best way to do it.
“I’m not telling you-“
“No! You can’t! No, no, please —you don't understand!” They were interrupted by Phantom crying out in anguish, jerking himself away from the desk and toppling onto the floor into a crumpled heap, where he let out another pained cry.
How he was still unconscious, the class didn’t know.
Then, they noticed it.
It was just a little at first, a small trickle of green on the wooden floor, the equivalent of ghost blood, ectoplasm. From the hit he’d taken to the ground, some injury or grazing wasn’t surprising.
Phantom was lying on his stomach, hands splayed out at awkward angles, white hair covering his face, legs still tangled in the chair legs, his back facing the majority of the students.
To let out such a cry of pain, the teenager could only figure that he’d been in a fight beforehand. Perhaps he was having a nightmare about it?
Dread rose in Sam and Tucker for their friend. They were helpless to do anything without seeming suspicious. Sam had already leaked his name, the two of them could only pray that his injuries weren’t so bad.
Phantom whimpered again, curling in on himself and hissing in pain, “Please, you don’t understand-.”
The ghost rolled on his opposite side, exposing his stomach, slick with green, which discernibly brandished the unmistakable “y shape” of a dissection wound carved out of his torso.
“- I’m your son.”
A blue ring flared outwards.
#dannymay2021#danny phantom#hallway#angst#whoops this was meant to be happy#tw slight gore at the end#there’s implications in this#wow I finally did this type of fic#it wasnt long until I did write one of these fics tbh#I got sucked into the abyss of (spoiler) type genre#im sorry danny
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Oh my gosh so I also headcannon Jack as autistic! But im not comfortable with writing it yet because idk how. Im not autistic; my little sister is and i know a few things jack could have trouble with... but hes a grown ass man so i just dont know. Im definitely taking notes on what you write him as but could you give me some pointers?....maybe?
Im mostly referencing to Bitter with this
aaaa yeah it definitely presents differently in adults who've learned to mask, personally I don't plan to put certain things in specifically to talk about how he's autistic, I write with the background knowledge of what traits he displays, and then express them when relevant, it's relevant a lot with Jack simply due to how much it affects his life
now this is going to get long, so bare with me, because this is a whole lot more complicated than you might expect
there's really no one correct way to write Jack, since there's no one way that autism presents itself, the way I write him is based on a mix of myself and some people in my family, so I can give you a basic idea of what angle I personally come from
for one, I change the way I write about facial expressions and how emotions come across to Jack, in Jazz's chapters I'll write about the exact emotion she can see on their face, with Jack's I'll go with an obvious base emotion, but then if the person is expressing something more complicated, I'll describe their face in physical details
eg;
Jazz POV - Danny was upset, but his face was tight with frustration
Jack POV - Danny looked sad, but his eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was set in a hard line
it's a subtle difference but it's one I try to maintain throughout Bitter, Jack's POV is based on how I have trouble reading non-obvious expressions, although in my case I also have trouble looking people in the face when I talk to them, that's harder to write in an emotion driven POV story, so I made Jack better at that than I am
his interest in machines is quite obvious, since he's an inventor, and he looooves infodumping on people, he gets very excited about his passions very quickly and his mouth runs off with him, something I also have trouble with, it hasn't been a prominent trait for Jack in Bitter, because he's so out of his element he's mostly confused and in a way, almost grieving his own death, so he's been far quieter than he usually is
his special interest is obviously ghosts and machinery, and in Bitter I cover that he's got a degree in engineering, physics and mathematics. He's good at them, I like to look at it as though Jack rolled high in intelligence and low in wisdom, he's book smart, he knows things that are straightforward and have firm rules, he's less comfortable in topics that are more wishy washy and vague, biology is complicated and has too many variables, he finds it difficult to grasp, there's no one standard rule that applies to every body
I also struggle with vague and unclear directions, I need a solid structure and clear instructions, my strength is in sorting, organising, alphabetising and colour coding, I like things to Look Right, I stick to a particular routine with very specific things, and it's viscerally uncomfortable and even distressing for me to have that order disturbed, I nearly had a meltdown at work because someone had done a part of my job incorrectly, and I had to fix it, it made me genuinely upset on a personal level, it was MY system, NOBODY should be touching it, NOBODY should be moving things around, they do anyway, and I spend a portion of my shifts just frustrated and on edge because of it
Jack also has issues socially, he often says or does things that other people find uncomfortable or embarrassing, I reference that in Bitter, where Jack assumes everyone is mad at him because he said or did something stupid, this I have much experience in, while in the middle of a social situation it's easy to just do what comes naturally to you and not realise it's off putting to other people, because people often play polite and you can't tell that they're uncomfortable, even though people around you find it painfully obvious
sometimes it's easy to see in hindsight after you've been told you made something awkward or uncomfortable, but in the moment if nobody says anything about it, you can remain either totally oblivious, or become anxious and second guess every interaction you have
Jack is the oblivious type, he's fortunate to live in a family that is fairly understanding, they might get frustrated with him, or embarrassed by him, but they don't really take it personally, they KNOW he means well, they know he cares, and Jack does care, he cares a lot, he feels things a lot, he's incredibly empathetic
this is a trait that a lot of media likes to ignore in depictions of autism, because I guess it makes people with autism seem 'too normal', when tv shows always want to be like 'hey wow look at this clever asshole! isn't he clever, but also an asshole! but you can't hate him because he's ✨autistic✨ and he can't help it'
that bothers me a lot, I mean some people with autism do have trouble relating and empathising with people, my brother is one of them, but some people with autism really empathise a lot, some of us feel things very strongly, I'm highly empathetic and it's a real struggle to cope with
so yeah, it is a very complicated thing, so you need to go in with an idea of what their character struggles with, how it affects them, and when it's relevant in the story, also autism falls on a very wide spectrum, some people, like myself, are able to mask well, but that creates a big issue with identity, when you start to wonder how much of you is real and how much of you is mask, then you have to decide if you want to lower that mask and accept the social consequences of expressing yourself naturally
I have a friend who presents a little more obviously, he's very rigid in his ways and he talks like he's reading from a script, I have another friend who can socialise just fine, but will go into a total meltdown when a plan gets derailed and she doesn't know what to do next
another friend I have is highly social and incredibly boisterous, she stims with her whole body, dances around a lot, she's chaotic and that can be off-putting to people, she's had to spend a lot of her life holding that back, she's only recently started learning how to be herself shamelessly
my brother was incredibly social when he was younger, and people always really loved him, but most of that is mask, he's socially anxious and just wants to be alone most of the time, and he's a total prick to his immediate family, I don't take that personally any more, since now I understand that he's so blunt and brutally honest because he isn't masking with us, but also he still needs to be called out when he oversteps, autism might be why he has difficulty empathising, but it's not an excuse to be a complete asshole, even people with autism need to be called out on shitty behaviour, it isn't a get out of jail free card, our self expression shouldn't come at the cost of hurting other people, most of us are more than capable of learning to not be an asshole
I know this is like, A LOT, but these are the things that need to be considered when writing about autism, it is an all encompassing thing that permeates your entire life experience, I absolutely welcome people like you to try to write about it! Because I think it shouldn't be a taboo subject, and I appreciate that you asked for advice and that you want to do it respectfully, you've probably seen first hand how difficult living with autism can be, having a family member on the spectrum, so you already have some experience to draw from, I don't know your relationship with your sister or how old she is, or where on the spectrum she falls, but if possible you can ask her about her experiences in particular situations that you're having trouble writing, if that's something you and she are comfortable with
I hope this helps, just remember to keep an open mind and listen to any feedback you might get, it is very VERY easy to misrepresent autism so don't be too hard on yourself if you don't quite get it right, if someone gives you a critique, take it in stride and use it to become better ~ you can even express that in an authors note, that you want to write it accurately and invite anyone with experience to share their opinion, because like I said, it is different for everyone and my experiences are not universal, and you're welcome to run something by me every once in a while if you aren't sure about it ❤️
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Out of Time (5)
First/Last
Read on AO3
Word Count: 4347
Previously: Danny and Dan clashed above Amity.
Now: "When you faced Dan in the alternate future, he fused a time medallion within you and then took your place within your time. That created the first paradox. What he didn't realize is the ramifications of that action." Clockwork's expression softened slightly, observing Danny carefully. "Time Medallions are exempt from my powers of controlling time, but not time itself."
As always - please let me know what you think!
---
"I want a damage report on the attack from earlier, any footage from that attack and for goodness sake… will someone deal with the media!"
"Yes Mayor Masters!" a chorus of aides and officials replied, scurrying out of the room.
Vlad sighed, rubbing his temples as he leaned back in his office. Dealing with Daniel's heroic exploits were one thing… but this was taking it to a whole different level! The blasted dome had been up for days and now a ghost that even he felt the presence of from inside his office shows up with the same power as the boy?
Vlad frowned as he looked up at the dome overhead, remembering the events from previous summer. Daniel had certainly grown since then, but to keep a shield this powerful up for this long? Could he truly be this powerful?
A ring brought him out of his musing, feeling the vibrations of his phone from his left breast pocket. With a slight scowl, he absently grabbed the phone and glanced at the number. His eyes widened in recognition before answering. "I was wondering when you would call," he said into his cell phone, annoyed and exasperated.
"It's Maddie," the voice answered curtly. Vlad's eyes furrowed as he scrambled more upright into his seat.
"M-Maddie!" he exclaimed nervously, flattening out his hair to make it look more presentable. He briefly berated his silliness as he settled his nerves. "What a pleasant surprise!" He stiffened slightly, confused. "Wait… why are you calling from Daniel's phone?"
"Why were you expecting him to call you?" she rebutted dangerously. Before Vlad could even think of a reply, he heard her sigh on the other line. "What do you know about heat cores?"
Vlad frowned, slightly surprised at the question. "It's one of the types of cores for ghosts. There are a few different ones – ice, fire, electricity. Surely Daniel must have mentioned them?"
"Not about heat cores specifically," she replied. Vlad still noticed the tartness in her voice; she really didn't want to talk to him.
Vlad got up from the chair, pacing as he thought of how to continue the conversation. This was Maddie! She barely spoke to him anymore; he needed to keep her talking. "Heat cores are fire based," he explained. "Depending on the ghost, it could have direct correlations to their powers like warm ectoblasts, from their appearances etc."
"What would happen if a heat core came in contact with an ice core?"
Vlad stopped pacing, looking at the phone curiously. "That would only happen if two ghosts merged somehow or if someone striped a ghost down to their core levels and combined them forcefully."
"But what would happen?" she pressed.
Vlad stayed silent for a moment, pondering her question as he searched for an answer. "I would assume… that it would behave quite like ice when exposed to heat. It'd melt – either absorbing the ice core or drying up anything the core left behind." Maddie went quiet, making an uneasy feeling creep up within the man. "Maddie," he said quietly. "Daniel has an ice core."
"He's fine," she replied quickly, but he caught the small worry in her voice. "He's resting in the infirmary." Vlad's frown deepened, waiting for the woman to explain some more. "That fight took a lot out of him."
Vlad scoffed. "Of course it did!" he replied, annoyed. "He's held a powerful shield that reflects attacks over the entire town for days. Even if he was Phantom all the time this would take a lot out of him. He's still half human! It's reckless and I can't believe you are entertaining this idiocy."
Maddie was quiet for a long time, the weight of Vlad's words hanging in the air. "This is more complicated that you even know," she said finally, the tartness coming back in full force.
"Then tell me!" Vlad exclaimed angrily. "Believe me to be the bad guy all you want Maddie, but I know Daniel! We're the same!"
"You are not the same!" Maddie exclaimed, cutting across the man's tirade. "Do you think I like seeing him do this? He's fifteen years old Vlad, and I can't do anything to protect him!" The line was quiet for a few moments before she sighed tiredly. "Look, I trust Danny's judgement. Whatever that ghost is will be a force to be reckoned with, and while I hate to say this, we may need all hands on deck. Keep the media off our backs and I'll be in contact."
"Maddie wait-" Vlad started, but it was too late. Maddie was gone, the beeping of the disconnected line entertaining his ear. Vlad brought his phone down slowly, staring at Daniel's number with a concerned frown. "What on earth is going on," he murmured, confused.
:-=-:
Maddie frowned as she hung up the phone, staring at the device in her hand like it was a foreign object. With a sigh, she opened her son's phone again, scrolling through the call log until she saw the most recent one. She stared at the four letter name, slightly surprised that her son didn't label it "Plasmius" or "Fruitloop," before finally pressing the delete button.
She didn't want to admit it, but the man was right; Danny wasn't acting logically. Danny was acting on instinct and fear, with no regard for his own safety. And here she was, powerless and unable to stop him. Her hand curled around the phone determinedly, before setting it back on Danny's nightstand and walked out of his room. As she went down the stairs, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Vlad.
If Vlad thinks that mixing Ghost cores is a bad idea, then it might have truly been an accident. She mused. But if this alternate future has a heat core… how did it change? Which core absorbed which? Our Danny has an ice core… but what if the alternate Danny didn't start with one?
"Maddie?"
The sound of her husband's voice brought her out of her thoughts. Maddie looked to meet Jack's worried gaze, confused at her current state. He and the two ghosts were at the kitchen table, apparently in conversation while she walked into the room in a daze.
Maddie shook her head and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, just thinking through something." Her smile quickly disappeared, guilt creeping up in her chest. "How's Danny?"
"Still out," Jack told her with a frown. He turned towards the large wolf ghost sitting across from him. "Ethelwulf was just filling me in."
"It's more exhaustion than anything else," Ethelwulf continued sombrely. "Most of the bruises and burns he acquired from that fight have all but healed; the only reason why he's still unconscious is because he fixed that shield."
Clockwork said nothing, regarding the humans and ghosts expressionlessly before moving away from the table. Maddie was a little unnerved by the purple clad ghost, but Danny had once said he was a friend, and Ethelwulf seemed to trust him. Maddie sighed sadly, taking a seat at the table.
"He hasn't been sleeping well," she told the healing ghost. "Not since he put up the shield."
Ethelwulf frowned, glancing back toward the time master before regarding the mother. "Let's let him rest then," he said, changing the subject slightly. "Best fill everyone in together."
"Maybe you can help us out then," Jack said, scratching his chin in thought. "Most of our inventions have a failsafe for Danny's ecto-signature, but if Dan's ecto-signature is similar…"
Clockwork moved slightly from the corner of the kitchen. His red eyes found Maddie's, staring straight at her as Jack and Ethelwulf discussed possible ecto-signatures. Maddie held his gaze, awestruck at the power this ghost seemed to hold in that stare. The world disappeared around her, the faint sound of clocks in the distance drowning out the world.
As suddenly as it happened, the gaze disappeared and Clockwork floated slowly toward the entrance to the lab. Maddie watched as he made his way away from Jack and Ethelwulf, down the stairs; Maddie followed quickly.
"Clockwork?" she called, making the ghost stop in the middle of the lab. "Danny told us you took Dan in the Fenton Thermos the first time he faced him. Is there some way-"
"You cannot stop him," Clockwork cut across bluntly.
Flustered, Maddie stopped, looking at the back of the ghost with wide eyes. "What?"
"Any parent wants to shelter their children from harm," Clockwork told her sagely. "You mean well Maddie Fenton, but you cannot stop Daniel from growing up; from facing his fears. There are only so many things you can still protect him from."
Maddie frowned. "I don't understand."
Clockwork sighed, glancing back at the woman over his shoulder. "I know what you're planning – but we're running out of time. If you cannot figure how to separate their ecto-signatures, even with Plasmius' help, then you must be prepared to accept what Danny decides to do. Along with the consequences that come with it."
Maddie's mind reeled with the weight of Clockwork's words. She swallowed nervously, her response coming out in a whisper. "He's my son; how can I just watch as he throws himself into danger?"
Clockwork turned back, continuing towards the infirmary. "You don't," he replied sadly. The ghost turned invisible then, leaving the stricken mother in the middle of the lab.
:-=-:
... "Vlad?" His voice felt hoarse to his own ears.
"Daniel, there's no time!" the man yelled frantically as he freed the boy from the operating table. He heard the screams from further away. "It went wrong. You need to run, get out of here. I'll hold them – it – off to buy you time." The smell of ectoplasm and blood made him sick. "Quickly before –"
Vlad was tackled from behind from a white and black blur. Not wasting a second, he ran toward the exit of the lab. Suddenly, he felt something hit him from behind. With a shout, he crashed into the wall hard.
"Did you think you could run away from me?"
He looked up at the voice. It was his voice – except it was distorted somehow, more evil. His ghost half was different, hair on fire and skin blue. Phantom looked like those ghosts he fought over the last year – before everything. His body was shaking.
"Did you think you could throw me away Danny? After everything?" Phantom said, in the same strange voice. "Let me show you which half is disposable."
He met the blood red eyes of Phantom before he saw green.
Danny gasped as he awoke, startled from his most recent dream. Eyes shooting open, he immediately groaned at the too bright lights bombarded his senses. He brought a hand to his face, blocking out the light briefly, hissing slightly at his soreness as he did so. Danny stayed like that for a few minutes, taking in the smell of antiseptic and ectoplasm as he tried to shake the dream from his thoughts.
"What's wrong with me?" Danny asked, distraught. "Why now?"
"Both excellent questions."
Danny shot upright, wincing heavily, at the voice. "Clockwork?!" he exclaimed, confused. He looked around widely before he saw him, sitting in the chair beside the bed. The Time Master's face was hidden beneath his long silvery beard. His hands were folded neatly under his chin, eyes sparkling in small amusement as he watched Danny's slacked jawed response.
"Hello Danny," he said. Clockwork shifted the chair closer, letting it rise above the ground slightly as he did so. "Good to see you awake."
Danny blinked at the words before his brow furrowed in anger. "Where have you been?" he asked angrily, gesturing wildly. "Dan escaped days ago and you show up here now to do what? We could have-" Danny broke off, grimacing as a set of sparks went through his frame. He doubled over with a groan and closed his eyes as he breathed through the pain. The sparks subsided after a few minutes, but Danny sat hunched, breathing deeply.
"Easy now," Clockwork soothed, his tranquil voice made Danny's body relax slightly. "There's a lot to explain and best to do it all at once with your team present." Danny nodded, pushing himself back into a sitting position. Clockwork sighed, rising from the chair and drifted over to Danny's bedside. Once he was in front of the teen, he placed one of his hands on Danny's shoulder. "How are you feeling?"
Danny scoffed. "Like I was run over by a truck while I relived my worst nightmare over and over again."
Clockwork rolled his eyes at the response. "Fifteen year olds and sarcasm; I meant your energy levels. Apart from battling a powerful enemy, you also put more energy back into the shield. You've been out for a few hours."
Finally opening his eyes, Danny looked around the room. Mildly surprised, he realized that he was in the lab – more specifically the infirmary. Stark white walls lined with shelves full of first aid supplies surrounded them in the large room. There were tons of medical equipment all adorned with the Fenton logo. "What happened?" he asked in response. "I remember the shield being cracked, but everything else is a little hazy."
Clockwork sighed again, crossing his arms. "You insisted on fixing the shield and managed to do so by putting more of yourself into it. Unfortunately, you were also low on energy and passed out. Which brings us full circle to: How are you feeling? I know it's a question you tend to deflect, but humour me this once."
Danny cringed slightly, frowning in thought as he assessed himself. "I… don't feel as drained," he said after a moment, confused. Danny looked up at the Time Ghost. "If I put more energy into the shield, shouldn't I be feeling worse?"
"That's a question for Ethelwulf I'm afraid," Clockwork replied with a sly smile. "However, that probably means you can chance the stairs. Your friends will be here shortly and it's best to get everything out in the open." Clockwork picked up his staff, which Danny only noticed was at the foot of his bed, and gestured toward the door. "Shall we?"
Danny watched as Clockwork floated to the door, turning the knob. He sat up slowly, carefully standing before staring back to the Time Master. "Clockwork?" Clockwork hummed as he turned back to Danny expectantly. "You haven't shifted forms."
Clockwork raised his eyebrows slightly, smiling. "Perhaps you aren't as clueless as you seem." Danny ignored the jab and stared at his friend. Sighing, Clockwork gestured again towards the door. "Everything is as it should be – for now at least. I'll explain more upstairs."
:-=-:
"Danny! You're okay!"
Danny managed to turn from his spot on the couch before he was tackled by his friends and sister. He waved them off with a smile. "I'm fine." All three teens stood back and gave Danny an exasperated look. "Really!"
Sam let out a small breath. "Good," she said with a small smile. Before Danny could react, she hit him hard on the arm repeatedly. "What. Were. You. Thinking!"
"Ow!" Danny exclaimed, scowling as he rubbed his arm. He looked at Jazz and Tucker for any assistance, but neither seemed to want to get in the middle of whatever tirade Sam had planned. "Seriously?"
"Danny you passed out," she gritted out, violet eyes blazing. "In the middle of class, then decided to go off and face an evil version of yourself when he attacked." She crossed her arms and sent the boy a withering glare.
"I think Sam's trying to say you scared us," Jazz said, frowning disapprovingly. "Thankfully Tucker managed to get to me in time to sign you out of school before we went into lockdown. It took ages to get through to Mom and Dad."
Danny sighed guiltily. "Yeah, if it wasn't for Ethelwulf and Clockwork, I don't think I would have gotten out of there."
As if on cue, Ethelwulf walked in the Fenton's living room, quickly followed by his parents and Clockwork.
"Hi kids!" Jack boomed as he sat down across from the teens. "Perfect timing."
"I thought you couldn't find Ethelwulf?" Tucker asked, confused. "Or Clockwork for that matter."
"Apparently, it's a long story," Danny said, eying both ghosts warily. "Now that we're all here, can you just tell us what's going on?"
Ethelwulf chuckled, sitting on the couch and faced Clockwork with amused eyes. "I told you he'd be all business."
Clockwork said nothing, waiting until the humans settled before he floated toward them. He inspected his staff, frowning slightly, then at the wall clock across from him. His old frame hunched further, floating down toward the ground and put his staff out in front of him, using it as a cane. "What would you like to know?"
Danny frowned, realizing now how frail Clockwork looked. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.
Clockwork smiled sadly. "Have you ever heard of a paradox?" he retorted. Danny shook his head, while Sam, Tucker and Jazz all nodded. "A paradox, in regards to time, is when a situation contradicts the natural order of time. It can be an event, a person or thing that doesn't belong. I see time like a parade, from above; whenever I sense a paradox – I intervene to move time away."
"Why?" Maddie asked.
"I control time," Clockwork said simply, turning towards her. "Except time is not a simple concept for any being, especially humans. It moves in all directions. When a paradox occurs, it stops the parade; time gets backed into fewer and fewer pathways until it's forced to go in one direction." Clockwork turned toward Danny, looking at the boy's face to see if he understood yet. "Paradoxes, unfortunately, are my weakness. As the timelines dwindle, so does my grip on time and my powers. My form stops shifting, I lose the ability to see all the possible pathways; It is increasingly harder for me to start, stop and manipulate the timeline."
Danny's eyes widened, finally connecting the dots. "You're not shifting because of me," he said, guilt and regret in his voice. "You're losing your powers because of my future self and the alternate timeline."
Clockwork chuckled. "I wish it was so simple." When Danny shot him a confused look, he continued. "When I saved you and your family, I created another paradox by removing Dan Phantom from the time stream."
"Wait – another paradox?" Jazz asked incredulously. "What was the first paradox?"
Sam gasped. "We created the first one," she exclaimed, looking at Tucker with wide eyes. "Remember? We jumped straight into a future where we didn't belong."
"No," Clockwork answered. "Dan Phantom created the first one by interacting with you, Danny. Unfortunately, this many paradoxes have limited my view on time as it unfolds. One paradox I can deal with – two have sadly created more dead ends. Which reminds me; The dreams you've been having."
"Frostbite told us," Ethelwulf explained, when all humans looked at him confused. "Though, Clockwork suspected as much after you faced Nocturn."
"Nocturn?" Danny asked, confused. "What does he have to do with anything?"
"I asked Nocturn to investigate a hunch," Clockwork told the wide eyed teen. "When you faced Dan in the alternate future, he fused a time medallion within you and then took your place within your time. That created the first paradox. What he didn't realize is the ramifications of that action." His expression softened slightly, observing Danny carefully. "Time Medallions are exempt from my powers of controlling time, but not time itself. By fusing one with your core and leaving you ten years in the future, it started to solidify your place within a new time stream. Those dreams you've been having? Glimpses of the future you erased as well as possible outcomes of what's to come. Nocturn confirmed it when you two clashed earlier this year.
"However, while that timeline has been erased from the main time stream, a piece of it still exists within Dan. I removed him from time, meaning that my powers no longer affect him -just like they no long affect you since a part of your core assimilated to a different timeline. One that no longer exists."
"What…" Danny said breathlessly. He put his head in hands; it was too much to take in.
"Since that battle, how many times have you moved through time without one of my medallions?" Clockwork asked sympathetically. "How many times did I have to forcibly manipulate time around you?"
Danny stayed silent; mind reeling as he went through the questions Clockwork was asking. He didn't dare look at his friends or family.
"The time medallion, even though it's now out, is a relic of time Danny," Clockwork continued. "It doesn't follow a linear path. Its power shows itself unpredictably. It's why I was able to stop time around you on Fear Island, transport you to and from the past into multiple timelines without needing to use the medallion, and yet still was able to stop time during your fight with Dan last year. It's also why you did not see any of these glimpses until the paradox was upon us. You can see parts of it in random orders, sense wounds before they happen. You and your future self are the centre of this paradox Danny – time cannot move forward until you face each other."
"Hold on," Maddie said slowly. "You said you couldn't see past this paradox – how do you know Danny has to face the evil Phantom?"
Clockwork regarded her for a moment, red eyes scanning her before turning back to Danny, head still in his hands. "The last thing I'm able to see clearly is Danny and Dan facing off – but I'm not the only one who can see possible outcomes right now. In fact, I don't believe that my account for the future is as far we can see."
All eyes turned to the teen with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Finally looking up at the Master of Time, Danny sighed. "I've seen it too," he confessed reluctantly. "Multiple different times where we fight – Actually, I think we just lived through one." Danny shuddered slightly in remembrance. "I saw his creation. I've seen him escape multiple times…" Danny swallowed, silent again.
"Which prompted you to put up that shield," Ethelwulf said pointedly. Danny nodded. "Danny, you're powerful enough to keep that shield up without using your core energy. If what Clockwork said about the Time Medallion is true, your core might be feeling the effects of these dreams or these phantom injuries."
Danny hummed, agreeing with his mentor. "Wait – Clockwork said I put more energy into the shield. How come I feel okay?"
Ethelwulf frowned disapprovingly. "The fight between you and your future self drained quite a lot of your base powers, which helped balance your extensive use of your core powers from the past few days. Now that you've regained some energy, your base powers unconsciously switched with your core powers in that shield as a way to help you recover your energy. It's probably wise to continue to use your base powers with the shield unless there's a larger threat upon us." The wolf ghost turned to Clockwork before back to Danny. "You said you've seen multiple visions of Dan escaping?"
"Had another one this morning," Tucker supplied worriedly. "In the middle of class."
Danny felt his parents' eyes move to him in concern and possibly exasperation. "Yeah," he said softly.
Ethelwulf moved to the boy, trained yellow eyes scanning carefully for any injuries he could have missed. "When did he actually escape Clockwork?"
"This morning," the time master replied with a frown.
"And how many times have you seen him escape?"
Danny sighed. "About six or seven. I lost count."
Ethelwulf frowned in thought, looking between Clockwork and Danny expectantly. "Were there any indications that last vision was the one from this future?"
The boy in question frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought back. "I was awake with this one?" he supplied.
"There weren't any sparks this morning," Sam said, frowning slightly. "He just … fell over."
Danny hummed in agreement. "That's true; most of the other visions I had affected my core powers. That one just… happened."
Ethelwulf stared at the halfa in front of him, before looking toward Clockwork. Clockwork gave a slight nod, indicating his acceptance and Ethelwulf continued. "Danny, you need to take it easy for a bit; you're going to need your powers at full strength before you can face Dan again."
Danny nodded, not trusting his own voice. The world felt like it was taunting him, showing him these glimpses of time. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, he stood, feeling all eyes move toward him. "I'm going upstairs," he said quietly.
"Danny –" Jazz called out to him, but he shook his head, cutting her off.
"Just a little tired," he said with a small smile. It didn't reach his eyes. "Let me know if there's any trouble." He walked out of the living room, still feeling the concerned gazes of his friends and family as he made his way up the stairs. Finally reaching his room, Danny entered it hastily, leaning against the back of the door as he closed it with a soft click. He let out a shuttering breath, as the conversation that just happened washed over him again. Clockwork losing his powers? Seeing the future? Timelines? Dan?
Dan.
Danny frowned at the memory of his evil future came to mind once more. Going into that fight this morning was stupid, sure, but it made him realize something- Dan wasn't holding back. When Danny faced him after he returned from the future, Dan was reserved, calculating to make his plan move forward. Now? It was like the evil spectre was playing with him. Danny sighed, staring out into his room.
"What are you after?"
:-=-:
Power flooded his veins as he ripped through another Ectopus, absorbing their energy with fervour. As the poor ghost disappeared, lost to the mass of the ghost zone, Dan's aura shone brighter, relishing in the excitement.
He floated toward the edge of the floating rock nearest to him, hearing in the distance the vague screams of terror from a distance. He smiled cruelly – it truly was great to be out of that thermos. Brow furrowing, he turned quickly, ecto-blast at the ready before he dropped the attack. A mirror image of himself floated above him – a little worse for wear- echoing the power hungry demeanour. He smiled, feeling the duplicate rejoin him and giving him the memories it carried with it.
"Well now," he said quietly, chuckling darkly. "Seems like the old me has some new tricks – and allies." He paced up and down, thinking about his next move. "If he's able to keep that shield while fighting, then his power levels must have improved somewhat…" he stopped, staring out to the Zone in thought. "Perhaps I should divide his attention." He smiled again as a plan formulated in his mind. "I can't wait to watch as his world falls apart."
:-=-:
Valerie slipped the blaster's core back into her main bazooka with a grin. Flipping the switch, her smile widened as it hummed in response. Switching it back off, she threw it over to her already large pile of weapons on the table as she grabbed another smaller ecto-gun from the pile beside her. She needed everything in tip-top shape to face off against whatever attacked Amity today.
With a frown, she turned back to the TV as it ran a repeat of the ghost attack from earlier. Phantom 'saved' the town from a ghost attack by putting a giant shield around the city. That he put up. "Probably more of his dirty tricks," she muttered, cleaning some ectoplasmic build up from the gun she was working on. An image of the Ghost Boy falling and hitting the shield graced the screen as Lance Thunder speculated some sort of hair-brained theory.
She winced as it was shown again; that was probably fifteen feet, twenty tops. For the Ghost kid to drop out of the air like that – his opponent certainly packed a punch. Usually he was flying off with some stupid smile or quip on his lips after battles. This? This was different.
Valerie inspected the gun, making sure there was nothing out of the ordinary before she hunched forward and studied the footage. Everything about this fight was opposite from what she's seen from the spook. Even from afar, she can tell there was no banter – every move he made was calculated. He never fought with a team unless he needed to and whoever those two ghosts were, well, it was testament to their strength to see them just disappear like that. Valerie had only seen Phantom fight like that on two occasions: The Ghost King and last month… when they faced the mayor.
The dark skinned sighed as that thought crossed her mind. When she said knowledge was power, she didn't mean the knowledge that the mayor was a ghost. And possibly a criminal mastermind who almost murdered a young girl. Definitely a manipulative son of a –
Ding Dong
Startled, Valerie looked up from her spot on the sofa to the piles of weapons across the small apartment. She cringed, scrambling upright and grabbed the blanket on the armrest, throwing it over the couch. "Just a second!" she called, looking around frantically for something to cover the table as the doorbell rang again.
Seeing the pile of lab clothes at the foot of her father's room, Valerie tossed it onto the table, jumped over one of the table chairs and stood in front of her door. She took a deep breath to centre herself before opening the door slowly.
Valerie gasped; in front of her stood a girl, no more than 12 in a baggy sweatshirt, red shorts looked up at her through giant blue eyes. Her long jet black hair was covered by the red beanie, poking out a bit in the front.
"Dani?" Valerie asked, dumbfounded at the young half ghost girl in front of her. "When – how?"
Dani smiled shyly. "Hey Valerie," she said with a wave. "Mind if I stay with you for a while?"
Link to Ecto-Storm Series
#cartoons#danny phantom#fanfiction#danny fenton#action#adventure#cross posted on ao3#no phantom planet#But his parents know#pls like and reblog#ecto storm series#Out of Time#multichapter#post fight#answers given#Clockwork#Dan#Danny#Fenton family#Friends#Vlad appears#Valerie appears#Dani appears
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wake from death (and return to life) ix
AO3
first
summary: Zoro had always been told Kuina died falling down a flight of stairs. But she didn’t fall, and she wasn’t dead.
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It took Kuina almost five minutes of dangling over the rails of the ship to realize there was no wind. She was punch-drunk and giddy, the weight of uncertainty rolled off of her shoulders now that she had a clear path forward. She was a Revolutionary. She was going to be the greatest swordsman in the world.
Kuina allowed herself those five minutes. With everything she’d gone through in the last week and a half she’d more than earned them, and it had been so long since she’d felt any real excitement for her future. But no swordsman worth their blade would let themselves get lost in childish emotionalism. Kuina steadied herself with a few deep breaths, mentally drawing in the flights of fancy that had momentarily escaped from her imagination—daydreams of facing Dracule Mihawk at the behest of the Revolution, of proving once and for all that she could do what so many thought impossible, of reuniting with her father and Zoro proudly bearing the title Greatest.
It was like trying to wrangle a gaggle of unruly children. The more Kuina struggled to contain herself the more her imagination tried to run free, but she managed to settle back into the state of tranquil serenity that was more befitting of her training. The practical side of her, the part that quietly disapproved of this most recent turn of events, knew that now that she’d painted the broad strokes of her future it was high time to figure out what the hell Aria de Gris was doing now. It was then, and only then, that she noticed that the air was unnaturally still.
The sailors around her were not perturbed even as the Valor’s sails hung limp from their moorings. Kuina could feel that they were moving on the clear, mirror-flat sea. Slowly, but that was better than being dead in the water. Kuina wandered to the ship’s bow, noting that the Valor was sailing almost due south. If the Revolution had followed the same heading since leaving Tolouse, and Kuina had been unconscious for two full days, that meant…
“Don’t worry, we should be out of the Calm Belt by the end of the week.”
Kuina flinched, sword half-drawn before realizing it was only Dara using what had to be the most annoying Devil Fruit ability in the history of the world. Dara laughed as she popped out of the deck, hooking her thumbs in her pockets as Kuina shot her a glare.
But most of Kuina’s irritation was at herself for letting herself be caught by surprise, and she returned her attention back to the water. It was impossible to sail through the Calm Belt without some sort of engine, which the Valor lacked, to say nothing of the danger presented by the innumerable nests of sea kings that buffeted the Grand Line from the Four Blues.
Even as Kuina tried to wrap her mind around it, a dark shadow emerged from the depths directly in front of the ship. A high-pitched, eerie wail, almost like a siren’s song, reverberated through the air and deep into Kuina’s chest.
A monstrous head breached the surface so close to the Valor it sent rippling waves across its hull. Sprays of water jettisoned thirty feet into the air, exposing only part of a stripped, misshapen body before submerging once more. Great flukes, as large as a whale, but covered with algae-like strands of hair, slapped against the surface of the sea and sent sprays of salty water against the deck. Someone in the crow’s nest above whooped out a cry of encouragement.
Thoroughly confused, Kuina looked at Dara, whose grin only widened as she pointed to a tiny speck bobbing to the space recently vacated by the leviathan. “Oh look, there’s Cam. Someone should send a boat after her.”
“As if she’d take it!” a Revolutionary Kuina didn’t recognize shouted from across the deck.
“True,” Dara said contemplatively. Beckoning Kuina to follow, she meandered to the starboard side of the deck and loosened a rope ladder into the sea. “It’s probably faster to just let her swim.”
If Kuina hadn’t been so amazed by the fact Camille hadn’t gotten herself eaten, she would have marveled at the speed with which she cut through the unnaturally-still sea. Kuina considered herself a good enough swimmer, but Camille looked like she’d been born for the water. She moved like she was part fish, each stroke strong and graceful, returning to the Valor in moments. When she climbed back onto the decks she seemed sad to be there, looking back longingly at the water.
“So, how’s Fin?” Dara asked.
“Good, good. I adjusted the harness to fit more comfortably.” Camille arched an eyebrow at her friend while adjusting a leather thong around her neck, from which hung the biggest tooth Kuina had ever seen. “And his name isn’t Fin.”
“Well since you haven’t said what his name is, you’ve left me no choice but to improvise,” Dara retorted. She nudged Kuina in the ribs. “Can you believe she went through the effort of taming a sea king and then didn’t name it? ”
“You tamed a sea king?” Kuina said. “ How? ”
Camille rolled her eyes. “I didn’t tame anything. We’ve just...reached an understanding.” She gave Kuina an appraising look. “I’m surprised the doctor let you out of her grasp so soon.”
“She almost didn’t,” Kuina admitted.
Dara wrapped an arm around Kuina’s neck, ignoring the choked yelp of alarm and Kuina’s efforts to squirm free. “Forget about that! Did you hear, Kuina joined up. She’s officially one of the team!”
“I thought that was a given.” Camille said, utterly disinterested as she wrung the excess water from her shirt.
“When did you hear that?” Kuina said at the same time.
“Pfft, Dara knows pretty much everything on this ship,” Camille said. “You get used to it.”
Kuina frowned. She didn’t like the idea of someone with Dara’s ability nosing her way into business that wasn’t her own. If there was anything she’d learned since sailing with the Revolution, it was that there was very little in the way of privacy while at sea. Ships crowded everyone together, crewmates eating, sleeping, and working in close proximity. While the forced closeness had its advantages, Kuina was used to spending great blocks of time alone. It was something to get used to, and to be wary of.
“Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me,” Dara said, tweaking the end of Kuina’s nose. “You saved me from losing five hundred berries, and to Lizard of all people. I am at your service.”
It took Kuina a moment to remember Dara’s ill-thought wager with Elizabeth, and before she could voice her protest Dara had taken her by the arm to make official introductions to the crew, Camille laughing a half-step behind.
There was John the cooper, and James the blacksmith. Among the deckhands Kuina was introduced to rapid-fire were Kojo, Zhao, Lin, Char, Sean, Jen, and Tiva, and by the end of it she had gotten them so thoroughly confused with one another she had no idea which one was which. Others were working belowdecks, or off-shift and resting.
Elizabeth was still regretfully in charge of cooking duties, while Lyudmila was the ship’s quartermaster and second in command. Kuina was surprised to hear that in addition to taming sea kings in her spare time, Camille was the crew’s navigator.
“And what is it you do?” Kuina asked as Dara dragged her back below decks for the grand tour.
“Get newbs like you up to speed. Now here’s Trini’s room—try not to get stuck in here unless you want to spend the afternoon feeding lettuce to snails.”
Kuina blinked in amazement. The communications room was packed full of terrariums housing snail phones of every size and color. At its center was an enormous machine that looked vaguely like what the marines used to send their faxes, with thin cords attached to half a dozen den den mushi. Behind the machine sat Trini wearing an oversized pair of headphones, deep in concentration.
“She’s scanning the airwaves,” Dara said in an exaggerated whisper, carefully closing the door once more. “Not that there’s much to intercept in the Calm Belt, but you never know with the marines these days.”
“The marines can cross the Calm Belt?” Kuina said. “I can barely believe we’re crossing the Calm Belt!”
“It’s all thanks to Fin. Sea king bulls don’t typically fight with one another unless it’s mating season, so even if he’s pulling along a tasty treat we should be all right. I think his song has something to do with it, too.” She made an exaggerated gesture. “As for the marines, I have no freaking clue, but it must be a pretty new development since Boss doesn’t know about it, and the Valor isn’t sea-king proofed either.”
“That’s right, this was a marine ship,” Kuina murmured, looking up at the planks with fresh eyes. It was funny, without the marine’s distinctive painted hulls, she’d never would have been able to tell the difference.
“Oh, yeah. Came with all the amenities, which is how Trini got her state of the art snail room.”
“So if you guys had a sea king snuck up your sleeve this whole time, why didn’t you use it during the battle?” Kuina asked. “A monster that size would have been useful on Tolouse.”
“Ach, must everything be about fighting with you?” Dara said. “You must never have seen a real sea king, but Fin’s practically a baby, not even half-grown. And it’s surprisingly smart—for all my teasing, Cam was right. The thing has a mind of its own and acknowledges no master. I don’t think we could get him to attack a ship if we wanted to.”
“But he’ll pull a ship through the Calm Belt?” Kuina said.
“It’s better than going the long way around, eh?” Dara said with a shrug. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
At the barracks, Kuina had her choice of seven open bunks. One, which happened to be closest to the door, had a small crate propped on top of the thin mattress. Inside was stuffed with clothes and basic belongings. When Kuina looked askance at Dara the light in her eyes dimmed.
“That’s Danny’s stuff,” Dara said. “The rest who died already have their things stowed for when we get back to base, but as far as any of us know she doesn’t have any family so we’re not really sure what to do with hers. I’d say for you to take the clothes since you don’t have any, but I don’t think they’d fit.”
Kuina drew her fingers over the box, trying to think if she’d said anything about any family in their short time together, but all she remembered her mentioning was an apprenticeship under a cruel master. Kuina’s throat tightened as the memory of Danny screaming hysterically echoed in her mind unbidden.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Dara rubbed her neck uncomfortably. “It happens. I already told Boss when I bite it to sell all my stuff and use the money to have a party. If you all can’t be happy, at least you’ll be drunk.”
“I don’t drink,” Kuina said.
“Then you and Mila can be mopey together,” Dara said with determined cheerfulness. “It won’t matter to me, I’ll be dead. Now, where do you want to be? I’d be careful about that middle one there, it’s next to Lizard, and she snores terribly. ”
Kuina took the hint, and changed the subject, trying not to wonder how many of the bunks available to her had only emptied after the battle of Tolouse.
After the tour came lunch, and with two solid, if not especially tasty, meals under her belt, Kuina was beginning to feel more like herself again. The itch to train was back, and Kuina wanted nothing more to test the limits she’d recently expanded and chase after the high of battle, but much like her time on Belo Betty’s ship she was first subjected to the humiliation of being the newest and lowest-ranking sailor on a large and understaffed warship.
“You’re kind of shit at this, aren’t you?” Camille observed from her perch at the ship’s bow, watching as Kuina ran her mop over the deck for what felt like the hundredth time.
“You could help,” Kuina said.
“And deprive you of the opportunity to learn? Never.” She gave a long, catlike stretch. “By the way, you missed a spot.”
Kuina muttered an oath as she stabbed the mop into the bucket. “It isn’t as if it’s dirty.”
“Water expands and seals the wood, salt protects against rot.” Camille yawned, as if bored by the conversation, and wandered back to their useless rudder. As she passed Kuina, she said, “If you want to live in a drippy, softwooded ship, be my guest. As for me, I’d prefer not to die the first time a Grand Line squall hits.”
She left Kuina with her head bowed and cheeks burning. But the words had their intended effect and Kuina redoubled her efforts, determined from that point on that no one could in good conscience reprimand her sailcraft ever again.
It was nearing dark when de Gris and Lyudmila emerged from the captain’s quarters to call a meeting with the crew. After a long day of labor, Kuina’s muscles ached and she yearned for the sweet respite of bed. And it wasn’t as if the work had been taxing, especially after Clara Cross emerged from the infirmary like an avenging angel to tell off the entire crew, but especially Kuina, for overexerting herself.
There were some things not even Devil Fruit magic couldn’t sweep under the rug, and apparently the exhaustion of a near-death experience was one of them.
“All right everyone, gather round!” de Gris yelled. “Watchmen too! There aren’t any ships out here, and if the sea kings come after us we’re fucked anyway. I want everyone to hear this. Where’s Trini? She can leave the damn snails for ten minutes.”
The crew scrambled to obey the order. Kojo (or maybe Sean) went to gather those who were still belowdecks. Minutes later everyone was assembled in a loose circle around the main mast, with de Gris at the center. She paused a moment to ensure everyone was paying close attention, and under her stern gaze the idle chatter vanished into deathly silence.
Rays of dying light cast against de Gris’s back and framed her face in deep shadow. “I know you all have been wondering lately why the hell we were called to the East Blue so suddenly, and why we’re leaving just as quickly. I’ve heard you lot asking where our next destination was and wonder why I’ve not said where we’re going once we hit the Grand Line. Well, the answer’s simple. Until today, I didn’t know.”
From the folds of her coat, she pulled out an old and crumpled sheet of paper. Kuina squinted her eyes and was just able to make out the blurry picture of a masked figure. The bounty underneath, however, was clear as the sky above. Master-at-Arms Gemini, Wanted Dead or Alive. Bounty: B48,000,000.
Beside her, Dara snorted. “Oh, I bet the marine who thought up that name thought he was very clever.”
It was difficult to tell much from the photograph, but the one detail that was absolutely clear was Gemini’s strange, double-segmented arms, too long for an ordinary human and vaguely insectile. Kuina, who’d never seen anything like it before in her life, wondered what it would be like to fight someone who essentially had two elbows.
She brushed the thought away and turned to Gemini’s face. Their mask, fittingly enough, was divided vertically into halves, one dark and one light. The side that was dark was completely bereft of ornamentation; Kuina couldn’t even make out an eyehole to see out of. The side that was light, however, was painted with a garish grin. A shock of wiry black hair fell past their shoulders, but beyond that it was impossible to discern any identifying features. Baggy clothing and the poor quality of the photograph obscured anything else, even gender, and after spending this much time under de Gris's command, Kuina knew better than to assume.
“Gemini is a prominent figure in the criminal underground,” de Gris continued. “Arms dealing, drug trade, slavery, the whole lot. Removing them from the equation will make the world a safer place.”
“What’s an arms dealer got to do with the Revolution?” someone to Kuina’s right called. “And what have they got to do with the East Blue?” A murmur of agreement rippled through the crew.
“Enough!” de Gris bellowed, silencing them once more. “Tolouse's government were slavers, that much is now clear. They called it political exile to a labor camp, but the end result is the same—the World Government gave the king kickbacks for human chattel, using the Callihan Trading Company as a middleman. And we now now that the CTC was taking orders from Gemini. If Gemini is willing to go through so much effort to set up a scheme in some East Blue backwater, who knows what other fingers they have stuck into various pies around the world.”
“So we’re going after them,” Camille said, crossing her arms across her chest.
“That's right. So far Gemini has been able to stay one step ahead of us, but with the intel gathered on Tolouse we have the upper hand.” De Gris marched to the mast. In one smooth motion she drew a dagger hidden in her boot, and stabbed the bounty deep into the wood.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to Kyuka Island. In the days ahead I’ll be divvying out assignments. Any questions are to be directed toward Lyudmila or myself—out of an abundance of caution, you’re not to discuss your orders with anyone else on this ship. I’ll keelhaul anyone who tries.” At this her gaze went directly to Kuina, who got the impression these instructions were given strictly for her benefit. "Kyuka is marine territory through and through. I pray none of us fall into Government hands, but if we do, it's safest for the Revolution that each individual knows as little as possible about our plans."
After a pause, and hearing no objections, de Gris lit a cigarette for herself. “I’ll pay anyone who finds any intelligence on Gemini that leads to their capture or death the full value of their bounty. I’ll pay double to anyone who brings me their head. This chase has gone on long enough, I want this bastard dead. ” She flicked a bit of ash off the end of her cigarette and added, almost as an afterthought, “Dismissed.”
A gap in the circle opened to let de Gris through. As she passed, she grabbed Kuina by the shoulder. “Come on, greenhorn. It’s time we sort out your position on this ship.”
For the second time that day Kuina was led to the captain’s quarters. De Gris’s desk had been cleared away, the sea charts rolled back into their proper places and ashtrays emptied. Kuina slid back into a chair that smelled like tobacco. “What is it? Does the Revolution have Articles of Enlistment for me to sign? Is there a manifesto I’m supposed to study?”
“Don’t be stupid.” The sun had almost dipped below the horizon, and de Gris found a box of matches to light a kerosene lamp. The orange flame danced on its wick and flickered with the natural roll of the ship. “I’m told Dara gave you the runaround today.”
Kuina nodded.
“Clara never came screaming at me, so I have to assume you’re not feeling too poorly,” she mused, taking the time to light another cigarette.
“I’m fine,” Kuina said, rolling back her shoulders so de Gris couldn’t see the weariness in them.
“And have you taken that sword out of its sheath even once today?”
“Uh...no?” Kuina said.
“Unacceptable.” De Gris leaned back in her chair and let out a long stream of smoke. “You’re not some swabby or rigging monkey, you’re here because of your blade.” She looked at Kuina as if she were an idiot for not realizing this sooner.
“I’m willing to work just as hard as anyone else on this ship,” Kuina said stiffly.
“And you will. Harder, even, since you’re so far behind. But a ship is like…” She gesticulated, trying to find the right word. “It’s like a person. A crew is its own organism, and every one of us has to fit into their part. You don’t expect a heart to do the same work as a kidney, and no matter how hard you try, you’re not going to be half the sailor as the people who’ve spent their whole lives on the water. It’s ridiculous to think otherwise.”
Kuina nodded. What she said made sense, and in many ways Kuina agreed with her. But there was something about agreeing with Aria de Gris that didn’t sit right with her, so she said, “I have to learn sometime.”
“Obviously. I’m not about to let you be a liability once we hit the Grand Line, but there has to be balance. You’re no good to me if you get yourself killed because you spent too much time studying the different types of sails instead of your swordsmanship.” De Gris was pensive for a moment. “I’ll have Mila set up a schedule for you in the morning. Half the day working chores, the rest training. A few of my men use katana, but you’re better than all of them. Most of what you’ll do will have to be self study.”
“That’s fine. I haven’t had a master in years.”
De Gris looked surprised to hear this, but didn’t comment. “We have regular sparing times as well, to help our less practiced fighters build their skill, and to give the mainliners a chance to get used to each other's styles. Depending on how this all shakes out, you might be pairing with Dara or Camille for the upcoming mission. Do you know how to use a gun?”
“Of course not,” Kuina said, caught off-guard by the question.
“Then you’ll learn.” De Gris cut off Kuina’s protests before they could begin. “Can you kill someone at twenty yards with your sword?”
“No,” Kuina said mulishly.
“Then you need to know how to fire a gun, and probably keep one on you as a backup weapon. I have no use for senseless pride on this ship, girl,” she said as Kuina scrunched her nose in distaste. It’s your job to listen to what I say, and it’s my job to try and put you in a position to not die. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Kuina said, still unhappy at the prospect of sullying her hands with a firearm.
Without warning, de Gris pounded her fist on her desk. The kerosine lamp tottered and threatened to fall, but her eyes never left Kuina’s, the scar on her cheek pulled taunt with her scowl.
“I said. Do. You. Understand ?”
“And I said yes, ” Kuina snapped. “I’ll learn to use you’re stupid gun, and when I figure out how to kill someone at fifty yards with my sword I’ll drop kick it into the ocean where it belongs." She crossed her arms across her chest. "I already told you I’ll do what you say so long as you don’t interfere with my ambition, so there’s no need to treat me like a child.”
They glared at one another for a long while, hackles raised, but this time Kuina refused to let herself be intimidated into backing down. Slowly, still without breaking eye contact, de Gris eased back into her chair and doused her cigarette. “I have put too many people’s belongings into boxes because they wouldn’t listen. For your own sake, I hope you’re not one of them.”
For the second time that day, memory of Danny's last words echoed in her mind. “You’re in luck, because right now I don’t own enough stuff to fit into a box, let alone anyone to send it to.”
“No one at all?” de Gris said, eyebrows raising.
Kuina’s breath hitched as she thought of her father back at Shimotsuki village. Would the Revolutionary Army be able to return her meager belongings home without the marines knowing? Would he be able to stand knowing she’d joined Dragon’s cause despite all his warnings? What about Ipponmatsu? He at least wasn’t under suspicion by the World Government...Or was he, now that she’d attacked Tashigi?
Of everyone she knew, it was probably safest to give her belongings to Zoro , but gods only knew what part of the Grand Line he’d found himself in. She almost laughed at the thought of him using two of her swords for himself.
“No one,” Kuina said. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging crescent moons into her palms, but she kept her voice calm and her tone even.
After another heartbeat of painful silence, de Gris said, “Well, you’re not the only one." The words were probably meant to be reassuring, but Kuina felt they were anything but. “If you think of anybody, make sure someone knows.”
“I don’t plan on dying,” Kuina said.
De Gris snorted and lit another cigarette. “None of us do. Now get some grub and get to bed. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”
Kuina rose to her feet. After a moment’s hesitation, she bowed slightly. “Thank you...Captain.”
De Gris waved her away with a dismissive flick of the wrist. “You don’t have to break your teeth saying it. I don’t give a damn what you call me so long as you follow orders. Just know I take discipline on this ship very seriously. Cross me, and keelhauling is the least you’ll have to worry about.”
Kuina didn’t doubt it for a second. Murmuring her goodbyes, she left de Gris to her cigarettes and her musings, grateful to be able to swallow the clean sea air once more.
#wake from death (and return to life)#creative-type writes#holy crap it's been forever since I updated this#I think I missed several chapters on tumblr#I apologize in advance for being bad at promoting my own work#one piece#kuina#One Piece Fanfiction
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Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Maddie
Pairings: None
Rating: G
-
“So will it be between seventy and a hundred, or lower?”
“No. Keep working.”
At the heart of Clockwork's lair, Danny stared unseeingly at the math worksheet in front of him. The numbers were starting to blur together.
Today, Danny was visiting Clockwork after having a fit of homework frustration that was quickly becoming routine. He was lucky to have found a mentor in Clockwork and studied with him as frequently as he could. Danny had quickly found that the ghost was, apparently, scary good with numbers, but there was nothing to be done to make math less mind numbing.
“No, as in it'll be higher?”
“You know perfectly well Danny.”
Danny wanted to know if all his extra study sessions would pay off when it came to Friday's big test, but he knew what Clockwork was getting at. The spirit was concerned that knowing his future test score would make him slack off, either because of an expectation that he would do well regardless, or that he would see no point in studying with failure to come anyway.
He needed to study for now and later exams, Clockwork insisted.
Danny huffed in annoyance and stared harder at the problem that gave him such grief.
It didn't yield.
“Do you want to go over it again?”
Danny hung his head in defeat. “Yeah.”
Clockwork left his terminal and made his way to Danny's side with a spare sheet of paper, half of it covered in a scrawl from earlier.
Halfway there, the spirit paused. Clockwork stared just over Danny's shoulder, as though a thought had just occurred to him.
It wasn't the first time this had happened. Just the other day, while Danny visited, Clockwork had done a similar action. He hadn't given it much thought then, or the ones before. Everyone did it on occasion. In Danny’s case, it usually happened when he walked through a doorway. Most people though, Danny considered, didn't do it this much.
Maybe Clockwork was a little scatterbrained?
-
It was, by now, what Danny recognized and referred to as one of Clockwork's “Moments”.
Danny had come to learn that Clockwork had these frequently. Clockwork didn't have all knowledge of all things, the spirit had once explained. Clockwork knew of the past, if he cared enough to know it, and knew of the present, but not all of the present. If he wanted, he could learn it all but there were, he said, very many things that were dull and unimportant, and taking the time to see every bit would be a torture unimaginable.
The future was similar to him, in that he didn't endeavor to see every scrap of it, but even if he tried, it wouldn't have the same easy clarity.
The real take-away was that, when it came to the future, all things weren't set in stone, and as Clockwork explained, the ghost often felt that some events got lobbed at his head and he needed a moment to sort out the new information. Danny could understand that. He had trouble grasping the rest of the hour-long, complicated discussion that included half a dozen different metaphors and some math chalked onto the wall, but he could get that at least, and was glad to gain a little more insight on how Clockwork's abilities functioned.
-
“Are you okay?”
Clockwork’s attention snapped to Danny. The intense gaze made him uneasy. Was Clockwork mad? He got the feeling like he might have interrupted something.
“Uh, sorry.”
Immediately Clockwork's eyes widened, “No no, I’m sorry. I just realized something. I need to go-”
“What?” They had barely started!
A wink was sent his way. “It won't even be a moment.”
Oh right. Well, it wasn't like Danny could just forget the last fifteen years of rigid physical laws that applied to his and everyone else's lives. Clockwork would probably only disappear and reappear between blinks.
A thought occurred to him.
“Wait, have you been disappearing on me this whole time?” he asked. He shouldn’t be surprised, it would be so easy to ditch and return without anyone being the wiser.
“No, just when you’re already engaged in something.” Clockwork admitted.
So basically, any time Danny wasn’t actually talking to Clockwork. Which was a lot.
He shouldn’t be bothered by it. He hadn’t even caught onto it until just now, but still, it sat unwell with him that Danny was someone who was to be put aside for a later date. Couldn’t it wait until after Danny had left? It wasn’t like Clockwork couldn’t just go back to whatever time period he pleased.
It would be polite at the very least.
But what was Danny going to do about it? Clockwork was nice enough, and Danny wasn't about to voice his disappointment when it wasn't actually that big of a deal to begin with. It would just have to be another mannerism to add to Clockwork's growing list.
“Uh, okay. So what's got you in such a rush to go?”
Clockwork opened his mouth to answer, but paused for another faraway look to overtake his face. “. . . Well, how do you feel about coming with me to find out?” he finally said.
There was hardly a thought before Danny agreed. “Sure!”
They set off.
-
Clockwork's portal led them to a large, immaculate kitchen.
“Very nice.” Danny said as he stepped out and oggled at the sheer size of the room. The number of cooking ranges and pots suggested that he was at a restaurant. “Do you come here a lot?”
Clockwork gave a distracted noise of affirmation as he walked over to a glowing red stove top and fiddled with the knobs until it was completely turned off.
Had he just stopped what could have been a fire?
The ghost then grabbed at unsightly cords that littered the countertops and tucked them into less noticeable places.
“Danny, there is a set of knives to your left. Would you please place them in the cupboard?”
The cutlery in question had been loosely kept in a stainless steel container, not very dangerous in his opinion, but he obligingly shut it away.
From Clockwork's direction, Danny could vaguely make out senseless muttering, “-idiot thinks he's a chef . . . ”
Yeah, no kidding. Idiot was an understatement. Who left a stove on?
Danny startled at a sensation that brushed across his ankles.
He looked down to see a purring cat. “Um. Hi.”
It was long haired, and an obviously very well-kept animal. It was incredibly out-of-place for the current location. The cat gave him a lazy, silent meow.
“I didn't think cats were allowed in restaurants.”
“It isn't a restaurant,” Clockwork clarified. “This is the home of Vlad Masters.”
Danny suddenly snapped alert and floated off the ground in a battle ready stance. His eyes darted around in search of an unwelcome presence.
“He isn't here right now.”
Danny immediately relaxed and found his footing again. He regarded the cat and kitchen before him once more. Now it was looking familiar. This wasn't his first jaunt uninvited to Vlad's house, but he had never paused to really look at the rooms he was darting through.
“Okay, so what are we doing here? I mean, I know fire-safety is important and all, but a blazing house and that guy isn't the saddest combination that I can imagine.”
“I understand,” Clockwork said as he made his way to a nearby window and began working its unyielding frame closed. “Masters has done you a great deal many wrongs. He is, what most would determine, unsalvageable. Unforgivable. Unethical and unrepentant.”
“Yeah. All that times a thousand.”
“He is also incredibly unstable.”
“I could have told you that.” Danny wondered where this was heading.
Clockwork ceased his fiddling and picked up the cat that had only been too content to loll on the ground. It wiggled, displeased at the graceless hold.
“Before you is the crux of all of Masters’ affections.” He lifted the cat further with emphasis, and spoke with sincere solemnity. “The warmth held for you and your family is but a shrinking mote compared to what he has fostered with this animal.”
Shrinking? Anything that lessened Vlad's attention could only be a good thing. “Really? Does that mean he'll leave us alone now?”
Clockwork didn't entirely look him in the eyes when he said, “Not exactly. Masters is the very definition of passion and he can never entirely drop something once he's set upon it.”
“Not in all the timelines?”
“Most of those are currently closed and the few available are too . . .” Danny thought that Clockwork was about to have another Moment, but the spirit soon found his words, “-dreadful. Which is why it is very important that we curtail his fixations, in what ways we can, and direct him to better . . . things. This cat is crucial to that. He's poured all his love into it and should anything happen to it, Amityville will be a flaming crater, and its residents, crumbling charcoal.”
“He'd kill people for a cat?!”
“He'd kill someone for kicking it.”
“Oh my God. I mean, that's a really mean thing to do to a cat, and they deserve something, but the town is innocent. Why would he hurt them?”
“He’s an idiot when he's angry. And a part of him has always wanted to watch the world burn.”
Danny pulled the, now fed-up, cat out of Clockwork's arms and held it with complete reverence. “We have to protect this cat,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“We need to keep it inside and never let it out.”
“I know.”
“Sam can watch it when I can't-”
“Masters will be consumed with rage should it go missing.”
“Right. Okay. Well, it's- it's a cat, and it's been alright so far, right? It should be okay here. It's happy here and Vlad's happy.”
“But there's a problem. It's why I have to come here almost every blasted day. The cat is suicidal.”
“ . . . Is there a therapy for that?”
Clockwork gestured to the room, heedless of Danny, “She keeps trying to kill herself. Last week she was roadkill and the week before, mauled by a pack of dogs. I stop her from eating poisonous plants and she goes right back to them the next second. I keep her from chewing power cords and she tries and tries again- last time she did it while soaking wet from nearly drowning in the toilet. In fact, had we not been here, at this very moment, she would have deep fried herself! I am confident that I have now seen every possible misfortune that can befall an animal and I grow tired of it.”
Danny scrambled to absorb the dire information. “But . . . the deep fryer isn't even on.”
Clockwork glared at the animal pointedly. “And yet.”
Danny looked at the yowling cat in horror. “What can we do?”
“I'm doing all that I can.”
“But isn't there something we can do that is less hands-on? More permanent?”
“I've been scouring the timelines for that very answer and have come up short. Other possible solutions will show themselves eventually, but we're not at the right stage to begin exploring those.”
“Okay, well if we can't do anything with the cat, what about Vlad? Can't we just stop him?”
Clockwork rubbed his face tiredly. “Danny, a future where Masters has that sort of melt-down, and the city regardless saved, is not a future either of us want.”
Danny wished he could fact-check that, but he wasn't the one with foresight. “Are you suuure?” he needled.
“Yes.”
Well, Danny supposed that was that. He didn't entirely believe Clockwork. It was hard to judge when he knew so little of the information as a whole, it could just be that there was something that had been missed. However, he did trust that it was what Clockwork believed.
“Clockwork?”
“Hm?”
“This future you have in mind, is it a really good one?”
“. . . It's not all good, but it has a great deal many good things, yes.”
Something niggled at Danny. It was a thing that had long been bothering him, and it reared its ugly head whenever altering timelines came up, but he had never earnestly voiced it. Mostly because he had yet to see any bad come of it. “Clockwork, I know you can do all these cool things, but do you ever think that maybe you shouldn't be doing all this? Changing the timelines, I mean. I get wanting to have a better future for people, but what if you don't make the right choice? Why not just let it go?”
“Instead, how about you let it go?”
Danny's mouth dropped open in shock at the sheer rudeness, until he realized that Clockwork was pointing at the cat. She writhed in his arms and gave him warning bites to his gloves.
He guessed Clockwork's answer wasn’t as much a brush-off as it was a diversion then. Fine.
He, gently, released the cat and planned to get right back to the questions at hand, but Clockwork addressed him before he could open his mouth.
“I've let things go a time or two before, Danny.” Clockwork had taken an interest in one of his many watches, his head tucked down so that shadow eclipsed most of his face. “And contrary to what some would have you believe, I have learned that it is better to do something, even if it's not the very best, than nothing at all. Inaction and apathy are things that I have fought hard to stay buried, and to embrace them again would be inexcusable.”
What could have possibly have happened? How bad did it get? Did he really want to know?
“What-”
“So, will you help me keep this cat alive?”
And Danny did drop it, just like that. Clockwork clearly didn’t want to talk about it. That didn't mean he wasn't still curious. He was. But for today, and probably for a while, he would leave it be.
-
Vlad returned to the center of his current frustrations. He had been trying to recreate an old family recipe, when suddenly, he had been called away on business. It wasn't a long meeting, but he had felt the need to rush. A thought had dogged at him since he left.
Had he left the stove on?
He swung the kitchen door open and immediately calmed at the lack of raging flames and burning stove-tops.
It seemed he did remember.
There was also a lack of general mess that often accompanied his random acts of cookery. His ingredients were laid out still, as well as a number of random bowls, but the utensils were nowhere to be seen and the deep fryer had been dumped. Curious. He didn't keep his cleaning staff this late, and even if he had, they wouldn't have been so lazy as to not properly clean up a clear mess.
“Who the shit has been in my kitchen?”
-
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#danny phantom#danny fenton#clockwork#maddie#hahahaha!#at last#I get to share my favorite one#I realize that here his foresight works like Garnet's future vision#but I've had the thought since MiB3 came out#there's also some other caveats that I'm exploring#This is all there is for now#Now we enter a (hopefully) brief hiatus#vlad masters
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I'm feeling petty and in the mood for some "Bad friend Scott" or "Bad Alpha Scott" fic recs, I think I've read most of the popular ones, are there others you can rec?
I don’t know which of these you may have read but here are some of my faves. I don’t know why I love this trope so much!
Can’t rely on me by Littleredridinghunter
Set at the end of season 2, Gerard beats Stiles up, but it’s a lot worse than anyone knows.
The pack let him down, that’s not really a surprise lately.
When Danny finds Stiles nearly bleeding to death the next day it’s the start of a beautiful friendship.
Can the pack make amends before it’s too late? Will Stiles ever forgive them for not being there for him when he needed them the most?
When Your Life Falls Down Around Your Ears (You Get Up And Kick It’s Ass) by Super_Secret_Slash_Agent
Stiles left Beacon Hills when it became clear he wasn’t welcome with the pack anymore. Now he’s back and things are going down in Beacon Hills.
I Wanna Let Go And Know That I’ll Be Alright by orphan_account
When Scott tells Stiles to ‘take a step back’ from pack life, Stiles takes it as an invitation to get his life back on track - sans the supernatural.
Anthracite by LupusScintilla
It’s been a quiet few years, and the McCall Pack has grown and settled. But, when the Hale Pack return to Beacon Hills they find Scott isn’t as welcoming as they had hoped.
Soon they, Stiles, and Lydia, find out that not everything about the McCall Pack is as it has always seemed.
Future Dreams by littlefrog1025
Stiles accidentally summons he and Derek’s children from the future to the present.
From the Ashes by pancakezrule
The Jeep was found at the bottom of the ravine. It was nothing more than a burnt out shell.
Or the one where Stiles is deaf after a car accident, Derek is his interpreter/teacher, and Scott is a shitty best friend.
As You Walk On By by HappyJuicyfruit
Derek and Stiles are secretly dating. It’s fun and hot and great.. until Stiles gets into a car crash and doesn’t remember their secret when he wakes up.
Bleeding Love by Babystiles
Stiles promised himself that the werewolves didn’t smell the depression and desperation wafting off of him because they were simply distracted, not because they couldn’t care less. He told himself that he’s just good at hiding it.
Stiles was trying so damn hard.
But he’s broken so many promises to himself.
—-
Scott’s a bad friend and Derek’s a fluff ball
Stop Crossing Oceans by green-leaf (greenleaf)
“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”
“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”
Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.
You’re stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter
Set at the end of season 2, Stiles survives his encounter with Gerard and his goons, but it isn’t easy.
The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.
Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it’s head!
god knows I am dissonance by scepticallyopenminded
Stiles has zero regrets – zero, absolutely none – about leaving Beacon Hills after he graduates from Stanford. He knows his dad is good, has friends, has the force, has Melissa, and knows that even if he and Mel weren’t dating, that Scott has the sheriff’s back, will take care of him, keep him safe.
He knows Lydia has no regrets, either, and the two of them hop a plane less than a week after the graduation ceremony, two full weeks before their lease in Menlo Park is even up. They pack up a U-Haul, go back to Beacon Hills for two nights, and then they’re off to LAX, three suitcases and two carry-ons between the both of them.
To The One Who Is The Heart Of Our Pack by MissYuki1990
“We need to get him somewhere safe,” Peter said, and Derek looked at him.“There’s no such place.”“His house?” Isaac suggested, and the two older werewolves looked at him.“His dad doesn’t know,” Peter warned, and Derek looked at Stiles who seemed to have fallen into tormented sleep. Derek swallowed difficultly, and gently picked up the sleeping teen.“He’ll find out soon enough.”
The Kenny Situation by Whispering_Sumire
He hears the grate of Erica sliding the window open, hears her call after the homeless man, muttering far off now, “Hey! You killed Stiles!”
She sounds vaguely annoyed more than anything.
Derek wants to howl with the agony he’s in.
“You bastard!” Isaac chimes from somewhere deeper in the Loft.
Derek feels sick.
He rocks the body in his arms, holds the hand in his over the wound, shakes with sobs he doesn’t let free, and wonders how this was the thing who got the boy who runs with wolves? How was it just another meaningless act of violence? How is that fair?
Why doesn’t anyone seem to care?
[Or: The one where Stiles gets cursed by witches, keeps dying and coming back to life, and the only one even vaguely cognizant of this is Derek.]
Running Up That Hill by maypoison
“Even before the pack joined together, Scott was trying to protect you. And he still is trying to protect you, even if it means leaving you out of all this.”
Stiles does roll his eyes at that. “Yeah, but it didn’t work did it. I was still involved, and so was my Dad. We were nearly killed by Matt, and then Gerard.”
“My point is, people change. Relationships aren’t always perfect. Scott’s tried to kill me before.“
Stiles raises an eyebrow. "So, you’re saying that someone trying to kill you is just a small flaw in a relationship?”
“We’re werewolves.” Derek answers with a shrug, as if that was a perfectly good explanation.
Assault by Littleredridinghunter
Stiles is tortured by Gerard at the end of season 2, he doesn’t realise that the events of that night will start a chain of events that will push him to his limits.
With mysterious deaths plaguing the town, his dad barely speaking to him and Stiles reeling from Scott’s betrayal, is he strong enough to make it through the events that will change him forever? Will the pack be there to catch him when he starts to fall? Or will he be alone and in more danger than he thought ever possible?
stuck in reverse by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)
Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf.
Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks.
Still, no one deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody.
And it’s about time somebody told him that.
Everyone Needs a Little Mischief in Their Life by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
Finally, against his better judgement, and having gone in circles for much too long, he blurted out, “Who is my soulmate?”
The Witch looked disappointed, like he’d fucked up. Like he’d fucked up bad.
But she answered anyway.
“Mischief.”
Derek stared at her, not understanding, because what? “That’s not a name,” he insisted.
“Not exactly, no.” She offered him a small smile.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
#answered#anonymous#sterek#sterek fic rec#sterek fanfic#sterek fanfiction#fic rec list#scott is a bad friend
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When art really speaks to you, pt. 2: probably just a coincidence but idk
Disclaimer: all these theories are rabbit holes on their own, so trying to explain them in a couple of paragraphs is, automatically, doing them a disservice. Especially since I’m only going to be primarily addressing the part of the theory that focuses on the artist communicating with their public through their work.
Since I’ve already dedicated paragraphs to the introduction in part 1, let’s just jump into it.
Leonardo Da Vinci’s fuckton of theories.
Let’s start with the daddy of all conspiracies. After all, not many can gloat about their reachings becoming a movie starring Tom Hanks.
The thing with Da Vinci’s conspiracies is that there are so many of them, and they range from “maybe this is also a painting made by Da Vinci but he wasn’t credited because of reasons” to ALIENS. Which, I think, shows how different our interpretations of art can be, and how much it depends on an already established worldview.
But the most interesting part isn’t the conclusions, but how people look for clues. For example, just like people say Taylor Swift is obsessed with numbers or oranges (depending who you ask, I guess), Da Vinci was supposedly a big fan of reflections. So, if you want to decode his paintings you must mirror them... and then move then a little bit... there you go, you’ve just found yourself an alien...! Or a daemon...! Or someone wearing a funny hat! And that’s totally what he wanted us to find, right? Why else would he had shown any sort of interest in reflections if he didn’t want us to reflect everything!!
Shakespeare is an illusion... kinda, but yeah.
Personally, I think Kaylors would love to dig into this one. Sure, it doesn’t have many lesbians playing political spies. But it does involve a lot of literature analysis. Just like Kaylors don’t think a heterosexual woman could’ve written Taylor’s songs; some people (referred as anti-Stratfordians, thank you very much) don’t think someone from a lower class could’ve written Shakespeare’s plays.
Here’s the tea... the very cold tea: because Shakespeare was the son of a glover, anti-Stratfordians say he couldn’t have had the knowledge to write his plays. They, instead, come up with a list of “more suitable” writers that could’ve worked together. But they decided to keep their identities a secret because being a play writer, at that time, wasn’t respectable. Here, we will start noticing a trend with Conspiracy Theories: society, as a whole, can’t handle the truth, only a selected few. That’s where Francis Bacon comes in.
Francis Bacon was a very smart dude. He, also, worked for the state - giving him the credentials to be worthy of writing Shakespeare calibre plays. And also, also, he developed a method to conceal messages in the presentation of a text. To be able to do this, you would need to use two typefaces. Guess what has more than one typeface? Shakespeare’s plays.
I have to say - while I don’t believe either theory we have seen, they are somewhat understandable. We barely know anything about Shakespeare and Da Vinci beyond their work, so it’s normal that people are trying to figure out who they were; what did they believed in; where did they get all of their knowledge. We like theorising about the answers to these questions, knowing we’ll never get a confirmed truth. Not so the case with our next conspiracy...
Lewis Carroll was Jack the Ripper - someone had to be, right?
Now, allow me to fangirl all over this one. It combines my interests for conspiracy theories, true crime and pop-culture.
I’m assuming everyone here knows about Jack the Ripper: a serial killer who murdered at least 5 people (mainly prostitutes) in London, between the years 1888 and 1891. Well, someone looked at this and thought “you know what this murder-mystery is missing? Famous people”. Well, this theory says that the author of Alice in Wonderland did it He was the only celebrity living nearby at the time of the killings, so... 🤷♀️
This becomes a case of “I have already made up my mind about this issue, so I’m going to go ahead and search for proof that confirms it”. Authors and, now, internet sleuths went through his books, selected this random-ass excerpt from the nursery version of Alice and decided it was an anagram. And a crappy one at that. Supposedly, if you arrange the letters you get a detailed and gruesome confession. You, however, have to take away some letter and add others. Listen, I’m not an English major, but I’ve heard that’s cheating.
This theory also has that characteristic we mentioned: the “I don’t want to admit it out loud, so I’m going to come up with convoluted ways for my audience to figure it out” - which almost borders on psychotic behaviour. But at least it, somewhat, works with the serial killer narrative, you know? Not very much with Taylor, a woman who simply wants to chill with her girlfriend.
The moon landing was fake and directed by Stanley Kubrick.
I’m not going to dig into the moon landing conspiracy, this post is going to be long enough already. Just know that, when the USA government was planning to fake the whole thing, they had just watched ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ and they were all like “that’s so cool! That’s how we want our fake moon landing to look!” So they contacted its director, Kubrick.
According to the theory, Kubrick felt really guilty afterwards but he couldn’t say anything about it because he signed an NDA? it would be dangerous, I guess. So he did the same thing Taylor would do decades later: he “spelled it out” for us on his work, under the excuse of “I didn’t explicitly said it, did I? My most intelligent and attractive fans just happened to figure it out for themselves”.
The movie ‘The Shinning’ has been analysed to shreds. Think ‘Look What You Made Me Do’ music video, but 2 hours and 26 minutes instead. There are many theories about its underlying theme, but we’re only focusing on the moon landing one. The biggest piece of evidence, according to believers, comes from that famous scene in the hallway. Basically, the kid, Danny, is on the floor playing and wearing an Apollo 11 sweater. He stands up = the rocket launches. He walks to Room N.237. Which is almost an anagram for MOON - but actually, a perfect anagram for MORON - I didn’t come up with that joke, I’m just sharing it. Anyway. In the book, the room number is 217 but Kubrick changed it to 237 because there are 237,000 miles between the Earth and the Moon... except that’s not exactly true, but this is their Kissgate, you see?
“Paul is Dead” aka “the granddaddy of Kaylor is Real”
Now, this is THE conspiracy theory. Kaylors would love to have the amount of evidence this theory has. Give them 50 years, they’ll get there.
Our story starts in 1966, Paul McCartney dies in a car accident. The British Government panics, “this will drive our teenagers into a massive suicide!” So they cover it up. They find this guy who looks like Paul and hire him to replace the original.
You might’ve only heard about those stores where pop-stars get their beards. But there’s also a branch that focuses on celebrity look-a-likes.
The rest of The Beatles went along with it (because that’s how these artists seem to operate, they’re always the victims of their circumstances) but they did not like it. So - you guessed it - they used their music, artwork, photo-shoots, etc. to communicate the truth. Faux-Paul might’ve felt a bit awkward about it, but he’s a nice chap and let the other guys work through their grief.
Kaylors might have agreed on blue being the colour of breaks up and yellow is for Karlie-Sunshine; but the Paul-truthers concluded white is the colour of heaven, jeans are for gravediggers and black for morticians... oh! And not wearing shoes means you’re dead. Taylor being near a door symbolises her leaving the closet; Paul being near an open trunk symbolises him being in a coffin. Is the letter K, for Karlie, surrounding Taylor? Well, there’s a 28IF in the plaques of a car, for Paul being 28 IF he hadn’t died. People hear a phantasmagorical “she” in ‘Call It What You Want’; just like people heard “I buried Paul” in ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’.
If you have never looked up this theory, I seriously recommend it. There are so many parallels with Kaylor. Here’s a 30 minute video, if you’re interested. It summarises the theory neatly while discussing the effects that these, seemingly innocent, conspiracies have on the way we absorb information.
Paul might be dead but 2pac is very much alive.
If I haven’t made it clear by now, I think it’s very deceptive to use a musician’s lyrics to back up your alternate version of events. As confessional as these verses can be, they’re still a form of art. Which, in terms of music lyrics, they need to follow certain parameters, as well as a desired sound. And, as many other forms of art, they might focus a bit more on transmitting a feeling, rather than an accurate portrayal of reality.
Why am I stopping to say all of this now? Well, because this specific theory relies a lot on Tupac’s lyrics.
A bit of context: In 1996, Tupac Shakur was shot 4 times while at a stoplight. He died from his injuries days later. While there are theories, to this day, no one knows who killed him. Unless you believe one of those theories, which claims no one did.
The believers of this theory cite Tupac’s lyrics to argue that he was explicitly telling his fans that he was going to fake his own death. Here are two examples:
I’ve been shot and murdered, can’t tell you how it happened word for word but best believe that n*****’ gonna get what they deserve. - Richie Rich’s N***** Done Change
I heard rumours that I died murdered in cold blood, traumatised pictures of me in my final states — you know mama cried. But that was fiction, some coward got the story twisted - Aint’ Hard 2 Find
Just like anti-Kaylors don’t necessarily oppose the idea of Taylor being gay; I bet the “antis” of this theory aren’t happy Tupac died and weren’t against his existence on the first place. It’s more of an argument about confusing your feelings with facts, just because they can be more comforting or exciting.
“Avril Lavigne is dead”... or “every artist you think is alive is, actually, dead and, the ones you think are dead, aren’t” I guess.
After everything we have seen, this one isn’t that interesting. The real Avril died in 2003, right after her first album. Her record label bought a new one. Proof? She says ‘dead’ in ‘My Happy Ending’, blah, blah. A poor man’s “Paul is Dead”.
I added it, mainly for the lulz, after the last entry, I needed them. But also because it all started with a blog. What’s hilarious is that the guy who created it admitted he only did it to show how gullible people are but, at that point, he had already convinced people about. The conspirators didn’t need him anymore. So they discarded him but not the Theory... which just reminds me a little too much of how TCG, HBH, Jennyboom &co. have been excommunicated from the Church of Kaylor.
Beyonce and Jay Z are members of the sexy sexy Illuminati.
I did not save the best for last. But maybe I’m just biased because the Illuminati theory bores me to death. However, if you allow me a bit of social criticism... remember how the Shakespeare Conspiracy started because a bunch of classicist people didn’t believe a lower class citizen could write such good plays? I think this one has a bit of that. I’d bet my life that this one started when a bunch of white dudes got super uncomfortable by black people being so talented and earning their successful.
What this Conspiracy shows, too, is the amplifying effect the internet has had on the proliferation of such theories. Most of the conspiracies I’ve mentioned were huge... but how were you supposed to communicate your ideas and add to the old ones, before the internet? You could publish a book. Talk about it at parties. And, at some point, there were internet forums but, still, you can’t compare that to how widespread Social Media is nowadays.
Today, we can watch someone ramble for 2 hours on YouTube about how Beyonce looks like a robot if you watch Single Ladies in reverse; read someone’s dissertation of ‘Apeshit’; or spend all night looking at those pictures where someone has drawn a red circle around anything that resembles a triangle.
It might look like a lot of evidence but that’s only because there are a lot of people very attached to this theory. Wanting - for whatever reason - for it to be true (perhaps because it would confirm that their fears about the world were well founded). And all those dozens or hundredths of people were working together to form as many patterns as possible.
Unfortunately we are going to keep talking about the Illuminati in Part 3 but also about Taylor, so that should be nice. Because - to the surprise of absolutely no one - there’s a bunch of people who also think they understand Taylor better than the rest. That they have figured out her secret codes and her ultimate message. Only, not all of those theories involve lesbian supermodels, so they aren’t as popular on Tumblr.
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Callum is not an innocent little cherub who can do no wrong and needs to be protected- he's made mistakes, said and done shitty things that he hasn't made up for. He doesn't deserve better than Ben.
OKAY HOLD UP ANON you're gonna get a long response on why you're wrong and you're gonna LIKE IT
First, I agree that Callum is not the best guy. The writers mangled his character and moral standing during the Keanu episode to make sure Ben could still have his cheap drama crime gig with Callum being an enabling love sick asshole who would cover up murder if it meant that he could have his happiness with Ben back. It was stupid at the time, it's stupid now. Callum HAS made mistakes, but some would argue that he paid for it when he was kidnapped and was taught a very thorough lesson about the dangers of having a boyfriend who helped with attempted murder and generally stayed in the criminal world. It's a source of conflict with his naturally caring personality and adversity to crime that he still loves Ben, and though it hasn't been resolved, Callum seems content for it to be out of mind in exchange for Ben being honest with him so he doesn't get kidnapped again, presumably. That kinda makes him a bad person, plus he's a cop, so he gets knocked down a few points just for that. But compared to a lot of other people on the square, he a decent person in retrospect of all the garbage in this show, ESPECIALLY Ben.
Putting aside the past fumbles, Callum had been shown to be an incredibly kind and understanding partner, as demonstrated time and time again by Ben being an absolute ass hat and Callum continuing to be supportive of him. Callum was the one who pushed Ben to learn BSL, reached out to Frankie, was Ben's vent sink, tolerated Ben's outbursts while he was in denial and even STILL has to deal with him lashing out when he's insecure (see ben listening to music), dealt with very little care from Ben when Callum came back from the hospital, constantly has to deal with Ben's emotional baggage, and probably more than I'm forgetting right now. And now Ben is lying to him.
So yeah, as I've discussed before, Ben is a bad boyfriend and Callum has gone through a lot up until now dealing with that fact. And though Callum has made mistakes and isn't the best person, those problems doesn't mean he DESERVES to be treated the way Ben treats him. Most of Callum's crappy decisions can be traced back to desperately trying to keep Ben close to him as Ben continues to lash out and try to distance himself away from the people who care about him and also REFUSE to improve as a person. That's the thing about the relationship: Ben is always the one with the emotional leverage and power in their relationship since he's willing to lash out and break it due to his insecurities but Callum will always be someone who tries to work it all out and save their relationship due to his more kind/nonconfrontational personality. Ben found someone who will always be there. Ben found someone who is willing to be a bad person for him.
Callum is still a decent person in the context of the show. Not the best, we can't all be Frankie Lewis, but still someone who is deeply empathetic and kind to those around him. To say he DESERVES to be treated the way he does because of how much he wants his relationship with Ben to work and twist his moral code around that is a HORRIBLE thing to say because NO half decent person deserves to be treated the way Ben treats Callum. No relationship should work the way their relationship does. Callum does NOT deserve Ben LYING to him and yelling at him and lashing out at him and making him cry. To say he does justifies Ben's behavior as one that doesn't need to improve since there's nothing intrinsically wrong with their relationship; everyone is being treated the way they should.
And no. Fuck that. What a TERRIBLE way to think of a relationship, that one DESERVES to be treated like that because of a compromised moral code forced onto you to justify a loved one's wrong doing. Callum does NOT deserve to be lied to when he presents the BARE MINIMUM of decency and honesty in a relationship. Watch the scene where Ben tries to negotiate with Danny and the aftermath, and tells me ANYONE deserves to be treated the way Callum treats Ben in that scene: using him as a vector to express his frustration and self hatred over being disabled because he knows its very unlikely that Callum will ever bite back.
If you honestly think that someone with the moral standing of Callum, in reference to the show, DOESN'T deserve better than Ben, take a look at yourself. Seriously. Because that is a dangerous frame of mind to be in in terms of enabling and justifying terrible behavior.
Send In Unpopular Opinions (Ask Game)!
#eastenders#ben mitchell#ballum#callum highway#anon#tw unhealthy relationship#ask#unpopular opinions#this is one of the few unpopular opinions that i have gotten where i just kinda sat back and stared at it#some of yall either need to start watching the show or going to therapy#god this response is long but hey i warned them at the beginning
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All I Want For Christmas - Danny Rayburn x Reader (Bloodline)
Holiday Fic 5
🎄🎅🎁❄☃
Author’s Note:
So you’ve had Sway: The Ten Part Series, Sway: Lust Edition, and now I present to you, Sway: The Holiday Edition.
Okay, you knew this song was coming at some point right-!? 😉
Also I got threatened with Divorce if I didn’t use it, so, there’s that!
Actually it changed hands, but I’m happy with it being Danny’s 😊💙
Disclaimer: Lyrics not mine / Bloodline characters not mine / OCs mine!
Premise: When his plans fall through Danny turns up on your doorstep, not wanting him to be alone - you vow to make it the best Christmas he’s ever had...
Words: 3385
Warnings: Drinking
________
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know...
Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
I'm just gonna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
'Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding on to me so tight
What more can I do?
Oh baby, all I want for Christmas is you
Santa, won't you bring me the one I really need?
Won't you please bring my baby to me?
Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas
This is all I'm asking for
I just wanna see my baby
Standing right outside my door
Make my wish come true
Oh baby, all I want for Christmas is you
---
It started, as all good things did, back at the restaurant on Christmas Eve closing time. Danny was glad that this year he had decided to close on Christmas Day and give everyone time back with their families that they deserved. And looking at them all now chatting excitedly about it he was happy with his decision. Danny shrugged his coat and scarf on and began ushering them all out of the restaurant.
“Why Danny?” Javier smirked, “Got somewhere to be-!?”
“Not particularly, but now you mention it...!”
Jason laughed, “Are you going to her place? She coming to yours, what’s the deal?”
“What did you get her Danny, you old romantic!?”
“Nothing...” He placed his hands in his pockets
“Nothing-!?” They both looked shocked, which he barely anticipated considering their jokes over Valentine’s Day.
So, he presented himself “I am the gift!” They gave each other sideways glances, so Danny explained further “She’s not even expecting me... so I’m going to go over to hers now and hope I make it. I’m 99% sure that she’s supposed to be spending the day with her parents, but won’t go over until tomorrow. But if she decides to go early, I guess I’ll miss her...”
“Could go over there?”
“Nah, I’m not gonna interrupt that...”
Jason and Javi thought that she nor her parents would really care but turned back to further question him regardless; “... So where does she think you’re gonna be!?”
“Well I was actually planning to be somewhere but… that’s not worked out, plans change.”
They both kept quiet about that one... because it could have meant anything, close family or extended family... or just any other plan. Whatever it was it had fallen through.
“Well, we hope she’s there then.” Jason folded his arms.
Javi smiled gently, hoping to keep spirits up; “Ah, you know Y/N. She’s to the letter Dan, she’ll still be home...”
Danny’s smile didn’t instil a lot of confidence; “Thanks guys! I hope so!” He waved them off, climbing into his car.
Danny drove carefully, in both the dark and the cold. It seemed a little ridiculous (to be this bundled up also), but, he’d rather be safe. He knew Miami sometimes had freak weather - that didn’t make it any less irritating. He switched the radio across, but with no luck, every station was playing Christmas tunes (also you’d annoyingly set it to your favourite station, so right now it was blasting your music. Which made him roll his eyes with a smile). At least it was at the right time of year to have a cold snap.
***
The knock on your apartment door came as a surprise, and you weren’t even sure that you weren’t hearing things. Turning back to the bag you were carefully packing to head across to your parents’ house for Christmas Day. It’d probably end up with you staying a few days - so you wanted to be safe, rather than sorry...
When the knock came again you realised it could only have been your apartment and walked to your front door. Not even thinking about the who or what - sometimes your neighbours liked to give you cards, or just wish you well - the last person you expected to see standing at your front door was-
“Danny!!!?”
His black overcoat and chunky knit blue and black striped scarf seemed a little over the top for the weather but, he looked insanely cute. You placed your hands over your mouth, greeted by his smile; “W-What are you doing here-!? I thought you’d have been driving to-?!”
He shook his head, “Plans, uh... change... sweetheart. I’m sorry, are you going to your-?” Danny didn’t get a chance to get his words out before you’d leapt on him - winding your arms and legs around his body to let him know there was no way you’d let go.
“Babe—!” Your joyous cry was muffled slightly by his layers as you buried your face into his shoulder; “No! No! Please-! Come in!” As you weren’t actually going to let him go - he took a few steps, and shut the door behind him before gently letting you down to the floor.
“Are you crying-!?”
“Shut it!!” You grabbed him back into a hug, “I’m so happy!!!”
“Well if it had all come together, then-!”
“Then at least I would have known you’d be with someone that cared...”
He made a face to suggest those weren’t the words he would use. But you would stand by that with someone - you just didn’t want Danny to be alone this time of year.
And now he certainly wouldn’t be.
“You packed light-!” You we’re amused by his bag of things
“Well. I would have gone home, but feared maybe I wouldn’t catch you... and I at least know I have things here...”
“Feared you wouldn’t catch me?”
He gave a shrug, “Maybe you’d go to your parents early.”
“You worried I wouldn’t be here?”
“Yeah...”
“Danny...” You breathed his name gently, heart hurting that he would have to worry about such a thing.
“And if you were there, I didn’t want to disturb Christmas with your family...”
You sighed, following him up the hall to your bedroom “... They are your family too, you know that right?”
“Yeah but...”
“They would love to have you, Danny...”
“I...” He paused with a soft sigh, “...I just don’t think I’m ready for... that.”
You tipped your head, “Well. You better not think you’re going home tomorrow morning.”
“I can.” He offered
“You are staying!” You grabbed his hands, “Stay... with me.”
“What about...?”
You shook your head; “They won’t mind, and they’ll understand. Danny, I want to spend Christmas with you - and it breaks my heart to think you might be alone otherwise... Please...Stay...”
He leant in and kissed your cheek gently; “...Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll stay... but!” Danny grinned; “I’m gonna take a shower- if that’s alright..?”
You laughed, stealing another kiss for yourself; “Be my guest-! Drink?”
“Uh...” He paused at your bedroom door. “Sure, I’d love one.”
“Does it matter if it’s just a shot in Hot Chocolate?”
He chuckled; “Ah, now she’s speaking my language.”
“I can do Christmas cocktails, but tomorrow might be a better day for it.”
“Oh!” He groaned; “Don’t tempt me, it’s gotta be nearly midnight!”
***
By the time he had finished you were watching the TV, huddled up on your couch with your own hot chocolate - you’d made sure to wait until you heard the water shut off to make them, so his would still retain the hot.
Danny looked a little more relaxed and comfortable now - and less tired, after what you knew would have been a long and busy shift. You were equally glad he wouldn’t be working tomorrow. He curled up with you, gathering you to him for a moment, his shirt was soft and his body warm and all at once you just wanted to wind yourself around him and fall asleep right there.
But Danny cleared his throat, and you knew he was thinking something. If it was another excuse to leave he had another thing coming-
“What?”
“What, what?”
“Babe, you might as well just say it...”
“Mmmmm...” Danny’s lips touched the top of your forehead before he let you go and turned to you; “Well. If we stay... what about food…? I mean... I did...” You waited for him to finish that sentence eyebrows raised, “Well, I just thought maybe you could have taken some to your parents, not a big deal I just... I...”
“The pros of dating a chef, huh?”
He gave a little shrug; “Well I brought some things, sure.”
“Then forget about it. We’re staying here. You and me.”
“But-! Y/N, surely they-!” You pushed a finger to his lips,
“This is all I want this Christmas... this is all I need this Christmas.”
His eyes searched your face, confused, “What?”
“You.”
Danny opened his mouth and seemed to feel every emotion at once, by the way his eyes at first widened then narrowed, then spiked tears;
“Y....Y/N.... Y/N....”
“Danny? Sweetheart don’t... don’t cry-!”
But he threw his arms around you, pulling your body into his. “I— I—!”
“Shhh... honey...” you rubbed his back in soothing circles, “...Baby, it’s okay... you’re home, you’re safe... you have me now... and you’re all I want...”
“Thank you...” it was quiet, mumbled into your shoulder, where he stifled his tears, you ran your fingers into his hair;
“You don’t need to thank me! Danny, you are the most important thing to me... you and your happiness...” you pulled back from him to placed your forehead to his, hands still tangled in his curls; “...That matters more than anything. Never forget how much you deserve this. How much you deserve love... real love. Baby, stay here with me, tonight and tomorrow...” you gave him a reassuring smile; “and I promise to make this the best Christmas for either of us...”
**
By the time Danny had finished his hot chocolate you had drifted off to sleep snuggled into him. He smiled in complete adoration, running a hand through your hair, lifting you gently from the sofa he placed the cups in the sink and carried you to bed. Which is where you found yourself waking up on Christmas morning, with his arms around you.
You hummed in content, and wound your arms around his. Danny wrapped his arms around you tighter - snuggling into you with a sleepy hum of content. Clearly neither of you wanted to leave the warmth of your bed, or each other, yet.
“Mornin’...” It was mumbled and sleepy, and did nothing but cause you to smile, tangling yourself with him.
“Mornin’... Happy Christmas...”
“Ah, yeah...! Thought this day was something special...” He chucked against the back of your neck, kissing you softly; “I’m not ready to call it Christmas until I wake up, though...”
“Call it when you want, that’s still what it is...!!”
“Mmmm...” He was obviously too tired for real banter at this time in the morning, which was fine with you, and you both got as close as possible to one another before drifting off again. Danny deserved to stay in bed as long as he desired, you wanted him to savour his day off from the restaurant by relaxing as much as he possibly could; goodness knows he needed it. Although, by the sounds of it he would already be cooking dinner for you both. But if it was just for you, you figured it would hopefully be less of a chore for him than catering to a whole restaurant!
***
When Danny woke again he was alone, and he knew you’d left him to rest. He stretched, shifting his body to squint at the weather outside. Clear - and the sun was shining. He wondered if the cold snap was over yet, but guessed he would figure that out with his first cigarette of the day. It wasn’t like he was planning to go anywhere.
He wandered out into the kitchen, where you were busy with breakfast.
“Good morning...!” You turned with a smile, of course you’d heard him get up and we’re glad that he had decided to sleep in - rather than follow you down here straight away.
“Mornin’...” he mumbled, stretching again and leaning over your breakfast bar to watch you, “What are you doing...!?” Not that he didn’t appreciate it, of course he did, but of the two of you he knew who should be cooking today. “Let me handle that...!”
“Uh! No! I’m making you breakfast today!”
“Why?!”
“Because it’s Christmas Day and you deserve it - annnnd it sounds like you have dinner covered...”
“Yeah but babe, you don’t have to cook for me...”
“I’d hardly call it cooking!”
Danny propped himself up on his hands with a smile, “Certainly cooking,” he leant forward, “and for me? Darlin’!!”
“You’re not gonna cry again are you?” Although that was meant to be less of a jab at him than it came out, and you winced in apology.
“Ah! But these will be happy tears!” He grinned, “What are you making?”
“Nothing particularly special, just a Christmas tradition in my house! I have the same breakfast every Christmas Day... and pretty much only on Christmas Day...” you turned back to Danny, happy you got the opportunity to say to him what he usually said to you, “Sit.”
“Mmm...” He stood straight and moved around the kitchen to kiss you on the cheek, “...give me a few seconds...” he rubbed your shoulders affectionately, before unpocketing his lighter and cigarette packet.
“Ooh! You’re brave.”
“I was hoping it’d clear up... I’ll report back...”
You were basically finished by the time he got back in and waited patiently for him -
“What’s the verdict!?”
“Aha!!!” His laugh was a little strained, “Don’t bother! I think it’s gonna warm up though - not bad, still chilly!”
“Well,” you laughed, holding your arms out for him, “Come here and warm up!”
**
You called John, Nolan and your parents to give them your Holiday well wishes (With Nolan insisting he’d make his way over later, which cheered Danny up no end), but apart from that remained on your couch cuddled up with him watching movies.
“...You sure you don’t wanna do anything?” Though driving anywhere would be completely out of the question with how strong you apparently thought mixers had to be, and even Danny had to slow his alcohol consumption.
“Mmhmm... all I wanna be is with you, here... but if you wanna...” You indicated to the window, pouring yourself another glass. Because Danny had already insisted on stopping your flow of unmeasured mixing and claiming that ‘that looks about a shot!’, he’d pulled you away and made mulled wine instead. (Didn’t help the alcohol consumption one bit but you understood his sentiment).
He turned to the window, sun now levelling the temperature off. But he understood what you were saying. You’d be content doing anything, so long as it was with him. “No...” Danny looked back to you; “Being here with you is better than I could have hoped for... so I guess that’s all I want...too.”
***
Eventually he thought that deciding to make dinner was a good plan - although technically most of it was already made. He wasn’t averse to reheating, and he’d brought a good bottle of wine and fresh ingredients that wouldn’t keep either. So, you got to stand and watch Danny do what he did best. And soon your apartment was filled with the sounds and smells of his cooking. And you were one to stick on the Christmas tunes at this point.
That only made him laugh, and pretty soon you were both singing along.
You stood by to help him in any way you could, and Danny let you do simple things - but it was as much about watching him cook at it was anything else. Danny had a way of being able to pay attention to several dishes at once and not get side-tracked. And it was fascinating to watch him create all of this in your kitchen. The one that had barely been used before he’d come into your life. And Danny could go through your cupboards now and be extremely pleased that you had everything that he needed. For once.
He would have made you sit down to serve up, but you were way too curious as to what he’d brought from the restaurant menu and what he’d just simply been able to make.
“Is that Mac and Cheese!?”
He opened his mouth in horror, smacking the back of your hand with a serving spoon, “That is lobster truffle Mac and Cheese - don’t you start complaining!”
Although you were clearly impressed, you couldn’t help the smirk; “So, it’s not out of an instant hot water packet from Kraft?”
“Well I know that’s what you’re used to!”
You refuted that and folded your arms with a pout; “Why is Mac and Cheese on your Christmas menu!?”
“Y/N!! I can take my culinary skills elsewhere-!”
You gasped, no matter how much of a joke that was; “Nooo!!”
“Well then! Shut up until you’ve tried it!”
“Wait truffles like... those strange little black things?”
He laughed “Not exactly, you get to call it that if it has truffle oil in it.”
“What-!?”
Danny placed a hand to his forehead, trying not to look exasperated, “Oh geez... you’ve come a long way darlin’, but you’ve got a ways to go..!!” Your expression was still blank, “Look it just tastes good okay, don’t worry about it - a very in thing, and pretty versatile... I’ll get you some...”
“Only if I like it.”
He rolled his eyes, there was always that. “… A lot of Chefs don’t like it because 99% of the time it’s synthetic... but this!” He clicked his fingers and pointed at it, “It’s the real deal. There are truffles in that oil. A lot of chefs also aren’t keen on the taste, but if it’s done right the taste should mix well with everything else. AND I also get to splash truffle across my menu and be pretentious.” Danny folded his arms, “Like they do in restaurants where they pretend they’re feeding you, when what they put on your plate is “art” that costs more than one entire meal at my place. And usually isn’t that good. Not that I’m opinionated!”
You raised your eyebrows, “Not that you’re opinionated.”
“What a waste of time and money! Just eat a decent meal!” He shook his head, “That’s all your end of society though, ain’t it.”
“My end!?” You mused, “I mean, yeah, I guess I’ve been places like that but I figured I was grounded...”
“Yeah well...” He smiled gently, leaning across the table to catch your lips “You got a family that raised you right.”
“And I have you.”
He chuckled, looking away from you for a minute and biting his lip; “... And you have me...”
With the assortment of dishes, this by no means was a traditional Christmas meal – but that didn’t make you enjoy it any less. In fact perhaps you enjoyed it more because it was so different. With Danny trying to point out to you why everything was Christmas-y and therefore on his restaurant menu. As well as adhoc dishes. That didn’t mean he didn’t have traditional accompaniments. But eventually you had to get him to stop trying to explain everything. Because it didn’t matter to you.
And as expected, the bottle of wine he placed on the table was perfect for the flavours. Although you also noticed he stopped drinking;
“You okay?”
Danny placed his hand to his forehead; “I’m gonna get a headache…”
“…Oh! Maybe I should have been a little more merciful on the measures…”
He laughed, that was okay, but he was thinking mixing too much wasn’t being kind on him. And driving on it certainly wasn’t an option. Danny looked to you with a sweet, nearly convincingly innocent smile; “Well, I should probably ask you if it’s okay for me to also stay tonight.”
You giggled “I suppose that saves me asking you…”
He held his hand out to ask for yours, and you gladly let him take it. Keeping his eyes intently on you for the rest of the meal, as Danny usually did when you ate together, and he realised how much he was smiling – but didn’t want to stop that either.
Eventually he put his fork down and shifted his chair, one movement, to wind his arms around you, and rest his head on your shoulder. At first you couldn’t quite hear whatever he was mumbling, but you realised quickly that they were gentle sweet nothings and you placed your own cutlery down to return his cuddles. You sifted your hands through his hair, kissing his temple and his forehead and resting against him. It was a calm moment, what he needed, what you both needed this Christmas. You held onto him tighter, senses heightening to the feel of him against you.
Yes, you both needed this.
---
@waytoplantann - Holiday Danny 2! 😘
@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby
#MendoTagSquad.
#Danny Rayburn#Danny Rayburn x Reader#Bloodline#Ben Mendelsohn#98#Liliana#I LOVE this song#and I LOVE this man#Perfect fit!#I also just really love adding to this story...#holiday fic#Linzi Writes#I don't have any clever tags#but thank you for reading <3#Happy Holidays everyone!
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Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge Day 2 - Dallon Weekes
Pairing: Dallon Weekes x Female Reader
Rating: General
Requested by: None
Word Count: ~2,900
Author’s Note: There are a couple mentions of past deaths in this. This is also the story that I referred to as my Hallmark Christmas Movie story. I think it’s pretty fluffy and sweet and I’m proud of it so I hope you all like it as well!
It wasn’t often that (YN) got out of the house, but when her oldest friend Ryan called and asked her to come to his birthday, she made the arrangements necessary to get to that dinner party. When she arrived at the restaurant, she found the reserved section where a small group was already assembled.
“(YN)!” Ryan called when he spotted her, wrapping her in a big hug.
“Happy birthday! I’ve missed you, how have you been?”
“Good! I’m glad you actually came out, I have someone I want to you to meet,” Ryan said taking (YN) by the arm and guiding her to a tall brunette man. “This is my bandmate Dallon. Dallon this is my friend (YN).”
“Hey, nice to meet you,” Dallon smiled warmly down at (YN), extending his hand.
“Hi, nice to meet you too,” (YN) replied, shaking his hand, surprised at how tiny hers felt in his.
"Ok everybody, let's eat," Ryan said gesturing to the table where half the guests were already seated. (YN) and Dallon found themselves seated next to each other at the end of the table
"This feels suspicious," (YN) said under her breath.
"Like a set up?" Dallon whispered in her ear, causing her to jump a little. She nodded shooting him a smirk. "I don't mind," he replied.
(YN)'s raised her eyebrows in surprise and smiled. "Ok then."
The dinner was delicious, and the time out with friends felt great. (YN) especially enjoyed talking to Dallon, but as the night started to wind down, she took the first opportunity she could find to make her exit.
"(YN) wait!" She heard Dallon call just as she stepped outside the restaurant.
"Yea?" She asked when he caught up to her.
"I had a nice time getting to know you tonight, I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime?"
"Really? I mean, yea, if you're sure?"
"Of course," Dallon smiled and her heart flipped.
"Ok," she nodded and took his phone to put her number in it.
"I'll call you," he said before turning to go back inside.
(YN) waved as she turned back toward her car. "That's what they all say," she muttered.
~
To (YN)'s surprise, Dallon did call her the next day and set up a date. They met up at a nice restaurant and it seemed like they were having a nice time in each other's company. That's when (YN) decided that she had to pull the pin.
"Ryan really didn't tell you much about me then?"
"Not really, just that he had this pretty friend he thought I'd like, and that you don't get out much."
"Did he tell you why?" She asked apprehensively.
Dallon shook his head. "No, why?"
(YN) took a deep breath. "A couple years ago, my older sister and her husband, Lucy and Dean, were killed in a bad car accident. When that happened, I adopted their three year old son. Most guys hear dead sister, kid, all that baggage and can't get away from me fast enough."
Surprisingly, Dallon reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. "It's their loss if they didn't want to get to know you. I think it's incredible that you were willing to do that."
(YN) felt tears start to sting at her eyes as she tried to blink them away. "Thank you," she said softly. When she looked into Dallon's eyes, she knew that he was different than other guys; he really didn't mind what she had told him, he really wanted to get to know her. And she was willing to take a chance on him as well.
After they finished their meal, Dallon held the door for (YN) as they made their way back to the parking lot in the cool fall air.
"Would you like to go out again?" Dallon asked as they reached her car.
"I'd love to," she smiled.
"Great," he grinned back. The silence then hung awkwardly between them. "I guess I'll call you then," he said heading toward his own car.
"Sure," (YN) nodded before turning to get in her car.
"No," she heard Dallon say and she looked up and saw him striding back over to her. "(YN) I've wanted to kiss you since the night we met."
"Then do it," she said breathlessly.
Dallon grabbed her face in his large hands and his lips crashed against hers. (YN) draped her arms over his shoulders as she leaned into the kiss, one of his hands dropping down to her waist to hold her close. When they pulled back, they were both breathless and grinning.
"Yea, that was even more amazing than I imagined," Dallon said looking down at her.
"I'm glad," she smiled back.
~
Over the fall, things between (YN) and Dallon continued to go really well, but there was one area of life that she hadn't fully let him into yet.
"Hey Dallon," (YN) started one evening as they sat in a small cafe. "I was wondering something."
"What's that?" He asked, pushing his brown hair out of his face.
"Would you like to meet my nephew? He's noticed that I go out a lot more than I ever used to and was asking questions," (YN) explained, nerves settling in as she asked.
"I'd be honored," Dallon replied, leaning in to give her a reassuring kiss.
On that Saturday morning, (YN) nervously hurried around the house getting herself, and then her nephew Danny ready when the doorbell rang promptly at 11 AM.
"I'll get it!" Danny declared running to the front door.
"Danny, wait!" (YN) chased after him, but he was already at the door.
"Hi!" Danny greeted Dallon who was smiling down at him. "You're really tall."
"Well hello there," Dallon smiled down at him.
"Come in, sorry. Dallon, this is my nephew Danny, Danny," she said crouching down to his level, "this is my friend Dallon."
"He's really tall!" Danny commented again.
"It's because I ate all my vegetables when I was a kid," Dallon replied with a wink directed your way.
"Dallon is gonna help us cut down a Christmas tree," (YN) explained, helping Danny into his coat.
"And then we can get some hot chocolate too," Dallon suggested.
"Yea!" Danny cheered. In that moment (YN) felt happiness like she hadn't in years. From the night when Dallon told her he didn't care about the baggage in her life until this moment she was worried. Worried about how Danny would react, how Dallon would really be with him. But now that they were in the moment, she couldn’t believe how perfectly natural it all felt.
Everyone headed out to the car and out of town to the Christmas tree farm. They tramped through the snow as Danny rambled happily about the presents he hoped Santa would bring, and the cookies he wanted to leave out on Christmas Eve.
“Look at that one! It’s as tall as you!” He said to Dallon while pointing at a beautiful fir tree.
“Is it too big for your house?” Dallon asked.
(YN) looked up at the tree. “No, I think that will work,” she said with a nod.
Dallon got to work cutting down the tree and they both carried it back to the car. “I’ll go pay for the tree,” (YN) said heading toward the small hut where the cashier stood.
“I can take him to get hot chocolate now,” Dallon offered.
(YN) was dumbfounded for a moment. “Oh, yea, sure! Danny you gotta listen to Dallon when you go with him ok? No running off!”
“Ok aunt (YN)!”
(YN) mouthed ‘thank you’ at Dallon as they went off toward the hot chocolate stand, Danny still talking Dallon’s ear off, and (YN) again felt the happiness settle in her chest.
When they got back to (YN)’s house and got the tree upright inside, (YN) dug out the box of Christmas decorations. She pulled out the string of lights, and plugged them in, only to find they wouldn’t light up.
“Damn,” (YN) muttered under her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Dallon asked, crawling out from under the tree.
“Lights are out, I didn’t think to check before and these are all I have.”
“I can go get some more for you,” Dallon offered.
“You don’t have to,” (YN) started.
“Hey,” he said getting up and putting his hands on (YN)’s shoulders. “Let me take care of this for you.”
(YN) sighed. “Ok, fine, if you’re sure.”
“Just tell me if you want white lights or colors.”
“Colors please,” she replied.
Dallon placed a kiss on her forehead. “Coming right up.”
(YN) started organizing the few ornaments she had while she waited for Dallon to arrive with the lights. She had always been indifferent toward Christmas, but when Lucy and Dean died, she felt obligated to care, for Danny's sake. She wanted to give him as normal of a childhood as she could, despite the tragedy that he could barely understand.
One of the first ornaments she took out was the one she had made the year before, with the last photo she could find of Lucy, Dean and Danny together, smiling happily.
"I hope you think I'm doing good," she whispered to the image of her sister, as tears filled her eyes. "I'm trying so hard. I wish we could talk again and you could tell me what to do, like you always liked to. I think you'd like Dallon, he's amazing and I'm definitely falling for him. But I still miss you so much."
The doorbell rang and she wiped her eyes and hurried to answer it. “Dallon! What am I supposed to do with all of those?” She laughed when she saw all the boxes of lights he had purchased.
“Here, these are for the tree,” he said handing her a couple of boxes, “and these are for out here.”
“What? I wasn’t gonna put up lights outside,” you said.
“Danny was concerned about Santa finding the house,” he said with a wink.
(YN) had to bite her lip from bursting into tears again. “How are you even real? How did I get so lucky?” (YN) sighed.
Dallon smiled down at her. “You have done so much over the last few years, you deserve to let someone take care of you.”
“Thank you,” she smiled, before leaning up and placing a kiss on his lips.
~
On Christmas Eve, (YN) had invited Dallon over for dinner. Danny had become quite fond of him, always asking when he would come over again. When the doorbell rang, Danny ran to answer it as usual.
“Wow!” (YN) heard him exclaim.
“Merry Christmas!” Dallon called from the doorway.
“Are those for me?” Danny asked.
(YN) came out of the kitchen to see Dallon had a neatly wrapped box, and a smaller gift bag in his arms. “What is that?”
“Presents! It’s Christmas after all. And yes, one of them is for you,” he replied to Danny.
“Can I open it now?” He asked looking back at (YN).
“Sure,” she agreed.
Dallon handed the present to Danny who immediately tore into the wrapping. “Legos!”
“What do you say,” (YN) prompted her nephew.
“Thanks Uncle Dallon!”
(YN)’s eyes went wide hearing what he said. She shot a nervous glance at Dallon to see how he would react and saw he was beaming.
“You’re welcome buddy,” Dallon said sitting down on the couch.
“Do you want him to help you put it together?” (YN) asked Danny.
“Sure,” he said handing the box to Dallon. As they got started (YN) went back to the kitchen to check on the meal, but she could still hear Danny chatting away.
“Uncle Dallon, do you love my aunt?” She heard Danny ask suddenly, stopping her in her tracks. She felt embarrassed that he had asked that, and worried Dallon would think she put him up to asking. But she was also worried by how Dallon might respond. She had already fallen hard for Dallon, as he was more than she ever hoped for in a relationship.
“I do. She’s very special to me,” she heard Dallon reply.
“Are you gonna marry my aunt?”
“I hope to one day,” Dallon said. She put a shaking hand over her mouth and happy tears started to pool in her eyes.
“Good, I like you Uncle Dallon.”
“I like you too, buddy.”
(YN) realized she’d been standing in the middle of the kitchen without tending to any of the food for a while now and she quickly returned to what she was supposed to be doing.
After they had their Christmas dinner, a plate of Oreos and milk were set out for Santa, and Danny was tucked in, (YN) dropped wearily onto the couch as Dallon finished washing the dishes in the kitchen and sat down next to her. The glow of the Christmas tree washing them in warm colors.
“I’m so worn out,” (YN) laughed. “Holidays were so much fun when you were a kid, but as an adult, they’re so much work.”
“Well if you’re too tired to open your present,” Dallon trailed off with a shrug.
“Nooo,” (YN) whined before bursting into laughter.
Dallon slid off the couch and grabbed both your present and the one you had bought for him before rejoining you.
“You go first,” (YN) insisted.
“Ok,” he smiled excitedly as he tore into the paper. When he had the present unwrapped and looked at it, his smile turned into a grin. "This is incredible! Thank you! Wow!" He said looking over the autographed Elvis Costello album you had found for him.
"I know you already have the album, but I thought you'd like the signed one to hang up or something."
"Yea! I really love it, thank you," he said leaning in and giving (YN) a kiss. "Now open yours."
(YN) reached into the gift bag and felt a small box. She pulled it out and carefully opened it. Inside was a necklace with a gold crescent moon pendant.
"I got it because the night of our first date, when we kissed, the moon was like that, and," he paused, glancing down before looking up in her eyes, "that was the moment I knew I loved you."
(YN) was speechless for a moment. "Dallon you are just the most thoughtful person I've ever met," she gushed. "Thank you, I love it! And I love you too!" She reached up and pulled him to her, their lips meeting sweetly before pulling back. Their eyes met for a moment before they crashed their lips back together, Dallon's hands on her back pulling her to him as if he couldn’t get her close enough, and she tangled one hand in his brown hair, the other clutching at his shirt. (YN) couldn’t help but smile thinking about how much she loved Dallon and how lucky she was to have him in her life.
When they pulled back breathlessly after a few minutes, Dallon rested his forehead on hers as they smiled at each other lovingly. “I love you so much,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” (YN) replied.
After another quick kiss, (YN) and Dallon got up to put the finishing touches in place for Christmas morning before collapsing again on the couch.
"Do you think I did a good job with all this?" (YN) asked, gesturing to the presents from Santa under the tree for Danny.
"I think so," Dallon replied rubbing (YN)'s shoulder.
"I just don't want him to feel like he's missing out because he's stuck with me."
"You're doing a great job, don't worry," Dallon said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"Thanks. And thank you for your help with everything," (YN) replied, snuggling against his side.
"Of course," Dallon smiled, giving her a squeeze.
~
"It's Christmas! Aunt (YN)! Uncle Dallon! Santa came!" Danny's voice jolted (YN) awake. It took her a moment to register where she was until she realized she had fallen asleep on the couch against Dallon.
"Oh, yea, Merry Christmas," (YN) smiled. "Hang on though, I gotta do a couple things."
(YN) nodded for Dallon, who was only half awake, to follow her.
"I'm so sorry for falling asleep on you last night. I know you were planning to go, so if you wanna go now that's fine," (YN) assured Dallon.
"Hey, its fine," he smiled while taking (YN)'s shoulders in his large hands. "Ryan's family invited me over for lunch, and I'd be more than happy to spend Christmas morning here with you guys."
(YN) smiled up at him. "If you're sure. I am gonna make cinnamon rolls, it's a family tradition."
"Now there's no way I'm leaving. Besides, I love you and love spending any time I can with you,"
he grinned before leaning down to kiss her.
"I'm so lucky to have you. I love you too" she murmured when he pulled back, which made Dallon grin and lean back in for another kiss
"Ew, kissing?" Danny squeaked from the doorway.
(YN) and Dallon both laughed. "Yea, umm that's what grown ups in love do," (YN) shrugged, looking at Dallon who seemed equally unsure how to respond.
"Can we open presents now?" Danny asked.
"Sure buddy," she replied.
From her spot where she sat tucked against Dallon's side, his strong arm wrapped around her shoulder, (YN) smiled contentedly knowing this was only the first of many wonderful Christmases with this little family.
#dallon weekes x reader#dallon weekes fanfic#dallon weekes fan fic#dallon weekes imagine#idkhow fan fic#idkhow fanfic#idkhow imagine#christmas challenge 2019#dallon weekes fan fiction#idkhow fan fiction
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Representation In Media
From things that have happened and from things as they exist and from all things that you know and all those you cannot know, you make something through your invention that is not a representation but a whole new thing truer than anything true and alive, and you make it alive, and if you make it well enough, you give it immortality. -Ernest Hemingway
When growing up I barely found many role models who talked like me, looked like me, or acted like me. I didn't see through representation until 6th grade. Granted that's better than many women, but they didn't come from your regular characters. The characters that had the most impact on me were cartoons. Cartoons like Fillmore, Total Drama, sixteen, and other numerous shows that turned me into the person I currently am: A headstrong goth, geeky, black, female. The showed representation of the role-models I wanted to become and who I am. I also started to understand how these groups in the media are portrayed.
BEING A BLACK FEMALE
One of the most interesting things I have observed (In my short period of life) is the change of how black women are shown in media. I remember learning in elementary school that my Afro or my braids were seen as messy or not seen as beautiful and so for a while I would resolve to straighten my hair. Then, in 7th grade, the way my natural hair was seen, changed. People started to see my coils and braids as desirable. My conclusion at this age was that famous celebrities started to wear their hair with pride. And how non-black or people not of color would wear it as a trend. Controversial but, that's what I saw as a young girl of color. I was confused because I was used to not seeing my hair in the media or girls with curvy builds. I wonder during that time period what did others see? I started to see shows with black supporting characters wearing curls. So what happened? When did my hair in mass media become a trend? This question and more became frequent in my middle school years. Of course, it wasn't like I never saw people who looked like me in media. I saw Beyonce, Tiffany Haddish, Nikki Minaj, and even Michelle Obama; but even though I saw them in real life how I saw them in movies, and social media I saw arguments from both sides. For example, In 5th grade, I had a project I had two people I wanted to be Mae C. Jemison and Michelle Obama. I chose Michelle because of how powerful and smart she is and how beautiful she was. However, I was surprised when I heard people called her "ugly" or how she "looked" like a man. I was distraught and hurt to hear my classmates and their parents saying such rude things about my role-model. I was distraught. I was used to hearing people in my community saying only good things about Mrs.Obama. I decided to let this go because I knew how I saw her. But, I wanted to know why people said that, after all, I never heard anyone saying such things about Jackie Kennedy or any first lady previously. This question of how black people are perceived in the media re-surfaced later in 8th grade. I was having a conversation in the car with my aunt. She asked when in movies how are black women seen in movies (when they aren't made to pander to the black community). Her friend said they are seen as loud, talkative, and hot-tempered. I thought about this. When I saw a movie with a black female they were always seen as the best friend. They were shown as smart; I saw them as the classic black girl stereotype. They tended to not be in high paying jobs, they shouted, they would curse, they would be lustful. Not, that there is anything wrong with this arch type in media they tend to add personality to a show or film. However, I rarely saw a black female in film or TV often stray from this. And shows kids in my generations see as revolutionary like That's So Raven would also fall back to this character type. Me being the nerd I am I had to also analyze cartoons as well. However, this is when my search became foggy and convoluted. Black female characters in cartoons were rare. This started a whole new discussion.
BLACK FEMALES IN CARTOONS
Hi, I am a cartoon addict. I admit it. Whether they be Japanese, French, Canadian, or American I love them. But, I rarely see myself in them. Even if Black female characters exist in a cartoon show, they are often voiced by the same person: Cree Summer. Look at your favorite shows with a black female: Rugrats, Bratz, Code name: Kids Next Door, Danny Phantom, The Proud Family, and etc. Look in the imdb I posted below.
It makes me think how rare they are. And I don't recall many shows with one of the lead characters being a black female. Maybe Keesha from Magic School bus, Valerie from Josie and the Pussycats, Susie Carmichael from Rugrats, Shana from Jem, Storm from X-men, or any black female in The Proud Family. Makes you think.
These are characters are so rare and often aren't seen in every episode. So to see a female of color in a show makes me want to watch just to see someone who looks like me. Which is why I ended up getting into the show Wakfu. Amalia is a woman of color and a princess. For anyone who likes adventure cartoons with a hero's quest I highly recommend Wakfu (watch it in the original language: French. It's so much better than any of the dubs). Amalia is a princess and a prominent leader in her kingdom: Sadida. Not only that she fights in battle with her friends and is a lead character. She's a great role model but, I didn't watch this as a younger kid but, a high schooler. Isn't it important as a child to see yourself in the shows you watch? This is why a character like Garnet is so important! Even if she is an alien, she is presented as a woman of color with an Afro. To see yourself in a show gives self-worth, confidence, and self-identity.
SELF IDENTITY IN CHARACTERS
As I said earlier cartoons helped shape me as a person. I loved shows Like The Addams Family, the Munsters, and Sabrina The Teenage Witch. I do say cartoon characters like Raven from Teen Titans, Penny from the Proud Family, Nikki from Sixteen helped make the person I am. These characters ended up being the people I related to the most because they had the persona I was and still am. I am an edgy teen who loves candelabras like Raven. I am a try hard like Penny. And I sound like Nikki vocal and speech pattern-wise. These cartoon characters were who I ended up identified with not my role-models, not the stereotypical characters in movies or TV. I liked cartoons, I liked Sam from Danny Phantom because she was funny, caring, and headstrong. As kids grow up (including me now) we must find people we want to be who we connect to. They don’t need to be found in a history book they can be a man-made creation like a cartoon. A cartoon was made for somebody, so enjoy them. If you find someone you identify with it will tell you more about yourself then you may realize. For example how I entered the Gothic community was through TV and literature and then I researched stumbled upon the music this sub-culture loves and I fell in love with it. It started with Morticia Addams Sam, Gwen, and Raven; this ended with me becoming what I loved.
CONCLUSION
So, the importance of variety in media is important. Not just cartoons; you should want to see yourself in media and there is nothing wrong with identifying with characters. It’s okay to want to be represented in media. A show like The Boondocks is revolutionary, Michiko & Hatchin are important, shows like American Dragon are important, movies like Crazy Rich Asians are important because they represent YOU. They are society. Not everyone is a mainstream, heterosexual, cis-gendered, male (If you are that’s pretty neat!), so the representation of YOU is important in media. I’m glad people love my hair and I see it in films and other mass media. I am happy I see bisexuals in TV shows like because I feel less stigmatized when I see bisexual on the screen( if you didn’t know Eleanor is a bisexual). I am happy to see me in the media and I am happy to see YOU in the media. Representation in the media is important.
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an evening in autumn
Danny Phantom fanfic. Summary: Now in their late teens, Dani and Valerie go on a date.
-
On a chilly autumn night, Dani dragged her companion by the wrist through the streets of downtown. They left the club and its heart-thumping music behind, and when they ducked into a dark narrow alley, Dani transformed. It lit up the graffiti splayed across the brick walls and the litter scattered around the trash cans, but she grinned, pulling her partner into a bridal carry and taking off into the sky.
“You haven’t gotten rid of the habit?” Valerie asked, tossing her hair to face the wind.
“Of flying like this? Nope!”
The dark-haired woman snorted. “I meant hiding when you transform.”
Glowing green eyes flickered towards her. “I know halfas aren’t a secret now, but I can’t do anything about it,” Dani said, turning her gaze back towards her destination, “so I still wanna keep my choice on when and where I reveal mine.”
Valerie hummed in understanding and craned her neck, trying to follow her line of sight. Whatever Dani had her eyes on, it was at a distance her human sight could not catch. The ghost girl’s grip under her knees and shoulders were secure, so she kept her arm around Dani’s neck loose. The city lights sped past them below, the air kissing her bare skin.
“Where are we going? You know I’ve got class tomorrow morning. I can’t stay up late.”
The halfa shot her a lopsided smile. “I got it, Miss Studious. Trust me.”
Of all the places Dani would have brought her to, Valerie wasn’t expecting them to return to the college campus, much less fly towards her own dorm. Dani refused to tell her what she was up to, instead buzzing with a sort of excited energy that reminded Valerie of a boy she had once dated, once he had come out of his shell. She pushed the memories away.
When they drew nearer to the dorm’s rooftop, Valerie immediately spotted the set up in the center. A coffee table with unlit candles, and a small blue couch piled with cushions. A bouquet of flowers lay on the center of the table, next to chips, two empty glasses and a bottle. She gaped.
“Are those from the student lounge?”
Green tinted Dani’s cheeks as she set her down next to the table and couch. “Nobody’s gonna miss some furniture for a couple hours.” Still floating in the air, she dashed towards the candles and lit them up, one by one, with a little green flame at the tip of her index finger.
“Wow,” Valerie said, joining the halfa as she sunk into the couch with a bounce. “This is… when did you even have the time to do this?”
“When you were busy in the bathroom,” Dani said, transforming back. Without her spectral glow, the candle flame glowed brighter, spilling a warm hue onto the furniture. She picked up the bouquet and pressed it into Valerie’s hands. The flowers were pretty, but she didn’t recognize them, and they were haphazardly wrapped together in mesh paper and tape. Dani saw her looking, and she rubbed her neck with a hand. “I picked them from the outskirts because I thought they looked nice. I don’t really know anything about flower arrangement—”
“No, no,” Valerie said, her smile growing, “this is amazing.”
Dani beamed.
They popped open the bottle, which turned out to be apple cider (I’m broke as hell, Dani told her, though she froze over the exterior of it to cool it down). Pouring it into the glasses, they talked into the night. About college, which Dani couldn’t stop asking questions on. About the stars they could see in the sky, whose stories behind their constellations Valerie listened to, as the halfa elaborated with a lot of gesturing and a faint glow to the freckles on her cheek.
When there was a lull in conversation, Dani pulled out a packet of what looked like green powder and dumped it into her own cider.
“What,” Valerie said as the halfa downed it in a gulp.
Dani burst out laughing. “You know catnip? But like, for ghosts.” She rubbed the side of the glass to her face and closed her eyes. “Oh man, so good.”
Valerie blinked in surprise when she opened bright green eyes instead of blue. “Do I want to know where you got it from?”
“No, but hey, what do you think of Danielle Ferron?”
“What?”
“Too lame. Danielle Fabianski? Ugh, that’s sketchy. Danielle… Ferrufino!”
“Where is this coming from?” Valerie laughed. Dani poured more of the catnip – ghost nip? – into her glass, swirling the cider in it furiously.
“Okay, that’s probably enough.” Valerie made a grab for the packet.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Dani whined, holding it out of reach. “Tell me what you think of Dani Ferrari.”
“God-awful.”
They went back and forth, but as the night drew on, Valerie could tell Dani was no longer very coherent. She was also glowing and floating an inch above the couch, despite being in human form.
Valerie reached out and snagged at the girl’s wrist. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”
“No.” Dani straightened and wobbled in the air. “Maybe. I’ll— I’ll float you back.”
They set their things down, though Valerie held on to the bouquet just as Dani turned them intangible. The halfa was aware enough to drift them into the right room, and they popped back to tangibility.
“Dani?”
Valerie spun around. Her roommate was sitting at her desk with an open book, teal eyes wide in surprise. Valerie had completely forgotten about her. She looked back at Dani, who was staring at Jazz Fenton with brows furrowed in confusion and something else.
Oh boy.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in a different state? Wait, never mind. I’m outta here.” Dani took a step towards the window, but she stumbled.
Jazz stood up. “Are you okay?”
“Maybe you should sit down,” Valerie said quickly, pulling the halfa to her bed.
Dani sat, blinking slowly. Jazz glanced between them, at the flowers in Valerie’s hold and her other hand on Dani’s wrist. Her eyebrows rose. Then she turned to the halfa. “Are you high on ghost nip?”
“No.”
“Right. Look, you can lay down and take some time for the effects to wear off. Danny wasn’t very stable as well when he was exposed to it-”
“I don’t want you or your brother’s help.”
“Dani, just lie down,” Valerie murmured.
The halfa groaned, then she flopped onto her back. She wouldn’t face Jazz’s direction.
Jazz’s shoulders slumped. “I have to go wash up. I’ll see you around.” Then she turned and left the room, the door drifting closed behind her with a quiet thud.
Valerie sat down next to her date. Dani stared at the ceiling, bright green eyes far away. The glow to her freckles had faded, along with her enthusiasm she had held throughout the night.
“You wanna tell me what’s going on between you and the Fentons?”
“It’s stupid.”
“It’s because of Danny, isn’t it? About him revealing his identity in front of the world?”
Dani’s gaze slid to her, watching her. “How’d you guess?”
“He revealed my identity too. As Red Huntress. In front of my dad. But what’s this got to do with the rest of his family?”
“It’s just— Danny never realized how much of a thing I had going for me, y’know? After I left Amity, I had a job. Helped out a nice old man with his café, and I made friends with all the customers. Then stupid Danny went to international TV and told everyone who he was.
“People kept thinking I’m related to him, especially if Dani Phantom shows up nearby. They think I’m like him, brave or… or heroic, or something.”
Valerie stayed quiet.
“All my life, he’s had what I want. A family, Vlad’s approval, and— I dunno, I just—” Dani took a shuddering breath. “I don’t feel like my own person, or like I’m in control of anything. I dunno. I tried staying in Amity for a bit but I guess seeing the Fentons just brought back some memories.”
“And you’ve been holding this in since the Disasteroid?”
“It’s dumb.”
“It’s not.” Valerie frowned. “Tell me these things, girl. I’ll listen. And I get it.”
“Really?”
“Why do you think I left Amity Park? It’s not just ‘cause of college. After Danny saved the world, people hated the Red Huntress. I’m not saying he shouldn’t have done any of what he did, because the guy tries his best, but.” Valerie shrugged. “Sometimes we just… get left behind. Are you crying?”
“No.” Dani sniffled. Valerie patted her arm.
“Sorry I ruined our date. It was supposed to be fun but then I just had to eat that powder.”
“Don’t be. It was fun.” Valerie held up the flowers. “And sweet. And Jazz Fenton can stop eavesdropping outside the door.”
A guilty-looking Jazz poked her head in. She plodded over, her hands behind her back. “Sorry.”
Dani sat up and rubbed her eyes. “It’s okay.”
“Would you… would you ever want to come back? For a visit? Maybe we could talk to Danny, or our parents. I know my brother’s been asking after you, but none of us ever heard any news.”
A part of Dani wanted to return, Valerie could tell. So did she.
The halfa shook her head. “Maybe someday.”
Sitting down on the other side of the bed, Jazz smiled in the gentle way she saved for her little brother. “Okay, but you’re still welcome in this dorm anytime. Don’t let me stop you from picking up Valerie for midnight escapades.”
“Hey!” Valerie laughed. Dani cracked a smile.
One day, they would return to Amity Park. But today, they would simply enjoy the present.
-
Written: 25 Sept 2019 | Edited: 4 May 2020 | Phandom Bingo 2019: Vengeful Babes, post-reveal, dual obsession space AU, ghost nip, Jazz’s college
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Local Teenager has Trippy Dream and Realizations About Family Importance, Family of Local Geniuses not Aware of how Genius they Are, Deceased Poacher not very Smart, Attacks Local Ghost Hunters, Local Family Discusses the Importance of Failsafes
Voices, vaguely familiar and carrying warmth called out to him. They called his name, the sound distant and irrelevant, so small it is lost to the hearts of stars singing deep beneath the soil. Lost to the blooming nebulas staining the dark sky with color, miles upon miles of light and rivers of fire and the promise of something new. Danny can almost hear the words and language they speak; something so close, so distant, something he has never known -- but they ring with such magnificent, terrible truth that he thinks, maybe he has always known them. Maybe they have always lived inside him, alongside the bones. These melodies, these words, that burn with such ferocious clarity that if he just spoke them aloud then the far would become near and he could reach out and pluck the stars from the sky and cradle them in his hands.
Danny woke up in his bed, surrounded by the warm press of his friends. The music of his dreams fading to the farthest and darkest reaches of his mind and leaving Danny grasping at nothing for them. So instead of the music he could barely hear the faintest notes of, Danny focused on his friends. His ears had grown so capable that with some focus he could hear even their heartbeats, and at the moment he was glad. His friends’ pulses were a reassuring sound, as much as the feeling of them pressed against his body and breathing right next to him on either side - reassurance that they were truly there.
Slipping between the rhythmic dances of their ever vibrating molecules, Danny got out of the bed and landed on his feet near silently. A glance at the clock told him it was 7:10 AM and Danny was beyond glad that it was Saturday. Holding in a yawn, he walked straight to the bathroom, did his routine, and headed downstairs in just his binder and boxers, as everyone in the household had seen him in already.
Or so he thought. There was a woman in a purple suit with a tie and curly hair sitting in one of the chairs in his living room, holding up an electronic recorder. And his parents and sister were on the couch, everyone fully dressed. And staring at him. In his underwear. Considering he just let loose a string of swears therein, he hoped the lady didn’t speak Mandarin.
Three minutes later Danny came down in a purple shirt bearing the FMA logo on it and some sweat pants. “Uh, hi?”
“Danny, I told you about this interview already,” Jazz said through grit teeth. “This is Souda Ayodele from Genius magazine.” A quick look on the second layer of everything showed that her aura was one of angry beige bees.
Danny turned to stare at the reporter. “Hi there.” Ms. Ayodele waved back, and Danny walked past the entire event to the kitchen. “Eggs, or Cereal?” Danny hummed, before catching his mother’s voice pointing out that her focus was ghost hunting. “Oh, this will be hilarious.” Grabbing cereal, a bowl, and milk, Danny used his intangibility to speed up getting everything together and grabbing a spoon. He was on the couch in time to hear Jazz claim that ghost hunting was a hobby.
“What they’re really involved in is inventing.” Jazz smiled, trying to steer the conversation to somewhere safe and normal.
“True, we do invent a majority of the time. I’ve personally worked on improving the power sources for all of our things around Fentonworks. Though, we do mechanical engineering as well,” Mom said as Danny ate his cereal.
Dad pulled out one of their holographic projectors and hit the button to let it float. “I have a full inventory of our inventions right here actually! For instance-”
“Dr. Fenton” Ayodele said, clearly having been here long enough to know that if she didn’t just interrupt then Dad would keep talking. “Pardon the interruption, but is that...device, um...floating?"
Dad and Mom blinked, looking at each other. Even Danny and Jazz cocked their heads at the question. Their parents had been toying around with hover engines for years, what was the big deal about that?
"Well, yes," Mom began. "That's a patented Fenton Gravity Inverter."
"And...how much can your...um, Gravity Inverter lift?" The reporter asked again.
"Approximately one metric ton, depending on the model." Dad shrugged. "But the Gravity Inverter is only a small part of the FentonWorks itinerary, such-”
"I'm sorry, but just to confirm: your laboratory has successfully created a device which can lift a ton of weight into the air without the energy requirements being prohibitive?" The reporter asked finally.
"Yes," Mom explained slowly as if talking to a child. "It's a relatively simplistic application of physics. Both Danny and Jazz, our children, have been building them for us for years while my husband and I focused on more advanced applications of our research. The Gravity Inverter is, quite literally, 'kids stuff.' In fact, I think Danny built the model that we eventually decided on using for the Fenton Holoprojector."
“A waste of an afternoon since I coulda been working on my paints,” Danny muttered around his cereal.
Ayodele turned to the kids fully. “Mr. and Ms. Fenton, is what your parents saying true?"
Danny shrugged, clearing his throat as he nodded. "Ah, sure. I mean, those things are pretty easy, I could almost build one in my sleep nowadays. I’m even using one for a side project I’m doing with a friend. They're not like Physics Cancelers or anything, right Jazz?"
"I guess they're pretty easy," Jazz shrugged, uncomfortable with being the center of attention. "Mom and dad only ask us to work with the safe stuff anyway. None of this is too complicated." Jazz turned to her parents, "If you're using the Model II that Danny built for the Projector, why did you want me to put together a Model VI last week?”
Mom smiled, "Oh, that's for the Specter Speeder, sweetie. We'll be showing that off a little later. At any rate, though, we would like to get on with the demonstration now. Jack, honey, if you would?"
“Rightio Mads!” Dad pulled out a remote from his pocket and a projection of an oblong, missile-like object coated in shiny metal and streamlined with a flaming F decal on both sides. The projection spun in the air at Dad’s press of a button.
"The Fenton Ghost Zone Probe," Mom began, “When finished, will be launched into the Ghost Portal and take numerous measurements including temperature, ecto-thermography, radiospectronomy, and more...of course, this will include video and audio data!"
“Did you say… Ghost Portal?” The woman looked remarkably uneased by the implications of there being a ghost portal, which was understandable. Danny wasn’t a fan of the fact himself. Just realizing how easily he slid through matter without even a second thought had Danny shuddering.
“Yup! We can’t exactly show ya that one just yet,” Dad said with a sigh. “We didn’t prepare for a presentation proper. We can, however, describe to you exactly how it works!”
And so Dad did just that and Danny tuned him out, eating his cereal since he’d heard this all before about six times. Instead, he focused on the look of mounting horror on Jazz’s face and counted the seconds before she interrupted Dad again.
“The portal isn’t what we’re here to talk about, Dad!” Wow, a full 36 seconds. Danny was impressed. “Can we talk about your work in energy? A self-regenerating energy source?”
“Ectoplasm, Jazz.” Danny pointed with his spoon. “They’re converting some of the nuclear batteries to use reactions with ectoplasm instead of the usual stuff.”
“Nuclear… batteries?” The poor reporter looked so lost and Danny had to wonder why. Did he say something about ghosts? Well beyond ectoplasm but everyone knew ghosts were made of ectoplasm. “Do the two of you work at a nuclear facility?”
“No?” Mom frowned. “We have nuclear batteries in our ghost hunting technology.”
“The entire facility is powered by a reactor under the labs.” Danny rolled his eyes. “And solar panels on the roof and a backup geothermal generator. Actually, all of our windows are solar panels too. I’m pretty sure Mom and Dad are just looking for ways to replicate those effects with ectoplasm?”
“Like we told you, Danny, it’s far more efficient in storage and output of energy than any material we’ve found on earth or any other dimension.”
“I know Mom, I just… I dunno, expected something new?” Danny shrugged and slurped up the milk from his now-empty bowl, relishing in Jazz’s glare. “Well, I’m gonna be upstairs having fun.” It was then that Danny spotted Tucker and Sam on the stairs, Sam in her black jeans and a Dumpty Humpty shirt she left last time she stayed over and Tucker in a button-up of Danny’s. “Guys, c’mon, ignore the interview we’ve got funner stuff to do.”
“That’s not a word, Danny.” Sam rolled her eyes. “This explains why English teachers hate you.”
“Oh please,” Danny chuckled as he headed into the kitchen, waiting for Sam and Tucker to grab their breakfast. “The teachers love me. Lancer’s just a pain.”
“Dude,” Tucker said as he grabbed a bag of bacon bits like they were chips and started eating. “You guys have nuclear reactors in your house?”
“Well not in this house specifically but yeah,” Danny shrugged. “Did you think we were on the city’s power grid or something?”
“Actually honey we’re supplying power to the whole town,” Mom called out, displaying that all mothers were supernatural entities that could hear anything.
“Huh. Well, there ya go.” Danny shrugged and headed to and up the stairs. Sam and Tucker soon followed, Sam holding a bowl full of fruit. “Did you put that there yesterday?”
“Yes, you need healthier food in this house, Danny - also why am I only just learning that you guys power the entire town?” Sam was scowling at him, and Danny wasn’t sure what he’d done this time.
“Because I only just found out?”
“What did you mean by This house, Danny?” Tucker sat on Danny’s bed while Sam got into his desk chair. “Do you guys have more than one house?”
“Yeah, FentonWorks is the entire block.” Judging by his friends’ expressions, Danny hadn’t told them this. “I guess it never came up?” Danny held up a game disc. “Did you think I built our HorrorStations in my room?” Danny slid the disc into the hand made console, grabbed his controller, and sat next to Tucker.
Before Tucker could respond, Danny felt a chill run up his spine, into his lungs and past his lips and he looked around on the second realm, but he was too late. The robot Sam had described appeared, right behind Danny, arm aimed point-blank at him. A net shot out and tangled around Danny’s body, throwing him off the bed and into his own console. In seconds, all three of them were bound in blue nets. “Hello, Ghost Child.”
“Who are you?” Danny arched a brow. He needed a moment to pull that power of brilliant, life granting stars into his muscles. If he transformed inside the house for a fight his parents would not only notice but come up and see his ghost form instead of him.
“I am Skulker,” the robot said, holding up a holographic projection of a cage filled with green abominations unto all gods Danny could think of. “A collector of things rare and unique. And you, ghost child, are that and more.” Skulker laughed, far more dramatically than he deserved to, and took a step, Danny’s rocket cracking and shattering into pieces.
“That’s my fucking rocket!” Green fire filled Danny’s veins and he tore the net off of himself, rising to put some dents in the robot. But when he reached into himself proper, that ice-cold void, heatless and full of lights that no other human being could ever claim to see, he was burned and staggered backward. “I built that! Just like this!” The Wrist Ray™ struck Skulker in the chest, burning a hole in him, and Danny felt that fire drain out of him into the weapon.
Sam and Tucker behind him used their own wrist rays to cut through the nets, and Sam’s shot from her crouch on the ground sailed over Skulker’s ducking head, leaving a dent in Danny’s wall. Skulker hit a button on his wrist and the nets began to snap and crackle. Danny reached out and snatched Tucker away before he could get zapped, and kicked the net away from Sam’s feet. He let go just fast enough that neither of them felt the shocks when they raced up into his body and forced his every muscle to tense up - nerves ablaze with screams that he couldn’t make.
Tucker raised his Wrist Ray ™ but Skulker shot it off of his wrist and he yelped. “Holy shit!”
“Come now, ghost boy, I expected this to be far more of a challenge. And yet here you are, easily cowed by the merest targeting of your little friends?” Skulker’s words barely reached Danny’s ears. All he could hear was the rushing of his blood and pain. Just as the current died down, Danny’s vision blacked out when Sam’s Wrist Ray shot missed the netting itself and hit his foot instead.
The door opened with a bang. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY SON!” BOOM Skulker was blasted back by Dad’s bazooka into the wall, and Danny’s vision slowly returned to him. “Jasmine, take your brother to the infirmary! Kids, get out of here!”
Skulker launched a net at Dad but Mom came to the rescue with her own cannon fire. It struck Skulker right in the net launcher and ripped off a piece of paneling on his arm. With a snarl, Skulker took in his surroundings and reached down to grab something purple, before fading from sight and quickly vacating Danny’s range of extra senses.
And soon that didn’t matter because Danny was being rushed down to the infirmary and he could hear Sam and Tucker telling his parents what had happened, ignoring the reporter entirely. Letting out a cough, Danny turned to Jazz and flashed a grin. It felt more like a grimace. “Hey, I stopped them from embarrassing you in that interview right?”
“You’re a disaster, little brother.” Jazz took a breath and carded a hand through his hair like she always did when he was hurt. “We’re gonna get you better, and when you’re better you’re gonna explain to me what the hell you were thinking.”
“Sure thing, Spazz.” Danny chuckled and sighed. “I think I need a nap.”
Danny reaches out, eyes transfixed on the distant hearts of stars. One whisper is all it needs. He could do it. He can. If he could just shape the cold clay of his lips.
Danny opened his eyes to the sight of Jazz, Tucker, Sam and his Mom all sitting around the infirmary and doing things. Sam was looking through one of her scrapbooks while Tucker did something on one of his PDAs - didn’t Skulker fly off with the other one? Jazz was reading a book about trauma and Mom was checking something on a holographic display. Everything was unnervingly quiet, and for a moment Danny considered going back to sleep. Rare and unique. Enough of a freak that some ghost would come hunting me down just to say to the rest of the Underworld ‘hey look, I caught the weirdo!’ regardless of who got in his way or what I have to say about it. Horologium, with how I rip apart ghosts that piss me off bad enough, I might as well be one of the weird Things that he was showing off in his little hologram.
Instead of dwelling on how his very fucked up existence that shouldn’t have been was putting his family in danger now, he sat up. His muscles were sore and stiff, and he let out a pained groan from the action, but Danny was at least relieved that he could move at all. “Okay, remind me never to touch another live wire again.” He saw his friends wince and shrugged before wincing again himself.
“Danny! Oh, honey don’t try to move too much, alright?” Mom came to his side in the blink of an eye, checking him over for any signs of electrical burns. “Oh Danny, baby, are you alright?”
“I’m about as sore as Zephyrus was about Hyacinthus, but I think I’ll be alright. Though, I’d love to never have to deal with that again.” Danny let out a sigh and laid his head back. I’d also love to be done with this getting better thing. What was it that Mom and Dad said about ectoplasm? It can absorb electromagnetic energy? Danny closed his eyes and reached out for the dangling threads of buzzing whines in the lights and sockets, pulling it into himself clumsily. He bit back a yelp and felt his arm practically convulse when the electricity went the wrong way. Note to self, don’t try that in human form again. Human bodies are complicated.
“Flex your muscles slowly and methodically, Danny,” Tucker said. “Gotta get your blood flowing. And check for nerve damage, cause electricity is horrible for the body. Speaking of, thank you for pulling us out of those nets."
Sam came over and held out a hand, looking slightly unsure as to what she wanted to do. "Gods, I'm so sorry for shooting you in the foot."
Danny laughed, ignoring the pain of tensing muscles because that was the last thing anyone needed to apologize for as far as Danny was concerned. "You got the net off yourself by blasting it so you blasted the net on my foot, it's cool. Though, if we end up netted again, please just grab something non-conductive to knock the net away."
"There will be no Next Time, pumpkin. The anti-ghost defense grid is up and running and no nasty ghost robot is getting in here to target you."
"Thanks, Mom." Danny let out a sigh and felt something uncurl in relief. He was safe at home, at the very least. "So Jazz, I think I owe you a thought process."
"That is correct, Second."
"Well, False Maturity, I was thinking, 'that button has something to do with those nets. If I get them away from Sam and Tuck, he can't hurt them with them.' And so I tried doin that."
"My boy the hero!" Dad came barreling into the room and immediately scooped Danny up into a hug. "Gave us all a scare! That ecto scum will think twice before trying to attack FentonWorks now!"
“I’ve been told… lungs are important.” Danny hugged back anyway of course, he wasn’t going to leave this hug ever.
“Mom, Dad,” Jazz piped up. “The things that come out of the portal are clearly dangerous. One attacked Danny in his room! Why haven’t we shut down the portal yet?” The squeeze of Dad’s hug got uncomfortably tighter.
“We’ve tried, Jazzerincess, can’t get the darn thing to turn off.” Danny felt his blood run even colder.
“What?”
Mom sighed and ran a hand over her face. “We unplugged it, cut all the power from the portal but it seems to be self-sustaining. All we can do is block it up with those blast doors.”
For several moments there was silence while everyone digested that they had no solid way of keeping the ghosts out of their world. And I'm the one who opened the door in the first place.
Sam cleared her throat. "Drs. Fenton? I know who the ghost is. He told us during his monologing he died putting down the last female purple back gorilla in a hunt. Name’s Hunter Grosvenor.” Sam sneered around the name as though it were the most disgusting piece of meat she'd had to swallow in her life.
Danny covered his mouth with his hand, curling his fingers into a fist slowly. Blowing air into it, he resisted the urge to growl. Tucker glared at the sky, daring Skulker to appear so he could dismantle him personally. “I’ve not felt so incredibly violent in a while. I need videogames-"
"Actually," Tucker interrupted with a sigh. "Your Horrorstation broke in all the fighting. The scrap heap also stole my PDA."
"First he gives my best friend a burn on her stomach, then he breaks my models and now my videogames? When I next see Skulker, I'm going to burn a hole through his faceplate." Danny groaned, laying his head back. "Can I get a moment with Sam and Tuck?"
"Of course, son." Dad set him down and ruffled his hair, more gentle with Danny than he ever remembered him being. The air around Dad was vaguely orangish and Danny let the tiniest bit of ectoplasm reach his eyes. The orange air around his dad, probably an aura, was tinged with echoes of sour fear and boiling anger that had Danny ready to crawl out of his skin, grab a gun and hunt Skulker down himself. "You kids go on and do that research project of yours! Mads and I will hunt down that putrid undead creep and rip it apart on a molecular level!"
Danny had never felt so conflicted about something his Dad had said. On one hand, I'd love for him to destroy Skulker. On the other, the dehumanizing way he says it is disturbing as all hell.
Just as the Fenton Adults left the room, Dad turned around with a big grin. "By the way Danny, I'm proud of you for looking out for your friends like that."
A wave of something brilliant and blue and love pride relief joy slammed into Danny and filled him from the inside out. And as the door closed, Danny flexed his fingers and rolled his joints. Danny stood up and stretched. "Holy shit guys, I think that Dad just healed me up a bit."
"Sweet. Think he can spread that around or is that a You thing?" Tucker looked ready to take notes since Danny didn't have his notebook on him.
Danny closed his eyes and focused, gently pulling that cool void up and letting it fill his eyes and ears and every nerve on his body. He opened his eyes and Danny saw the world bathed in that extreme indigo-like color that seemed to come off of every person he looked at. Looking closer, he noticed faint blue strings leading from him to his Dad and Mom and Jazz upstairs and a silver string leading to Tucker and Sam each. Reaching out to grasp the one that he just knew belonged to Jazz Danny was floored by so potent and blended a mix of positivity, concern, and manic energy that he had to stumble back into the bed. "Danny?"
"Just a me thing. Definitely. I can see these… strings, connecting me to you guys and my family. Like spider threads. But like, made of emotions?" He rubbed his temples and hummed. "Ectoplasm is psychoreactive so maybe it's like, a connection between us made semi tangible to my ghost because of how much ectoplasm is normally around here? You guys definitely got hit by ectoplasm in spades when the portal activated, so that explains why I can see it linking me to you guys too…"
"Hey. Science boy." Sam nudged his hip with her foot and Danny arched a brow at her. "Save the theories for later. We need a game plan to deal with the guy as soon as possible. Grovsner was a very efficient hunter if a sadistic bastard.”
Danny sighed and nodded, sitting back down. “Well, what do we know about him?” Tucker began tapping away at his PDA, eyes moving quickly.
“I know that you’re probably not gonna find anything on the internet. I had done a report on his barbaric treatment toward animals for an extra credit project and when I looked back for them, on all the same sites as before. Nothing.” Sam groaned. “But, I do remember what it was he typically did on a hunt for a protected species. He had hunting dogs, laid all kinds of traps, the works. I’m not sure what kind of things ectoplasm can do to a net besides making it gooier, but being able to phase into walls and crawl spaces where you usually go to is something he’s definitely going to take advantage of.”
“So my locker is probably gonna be rigged to explode, I have to worry about hell hounds, and he has nets that might fall on me on the way to the library or just to like, GameStop.” Danny leaned back, closing his eyes. “That sounds fun.”
"You assume there are hell hounds," Tucker snorted.
"Of course there are."
"Because you so want there to be ghost dogs."
"Tucker. Imagine it. A dog that doesn't poop, just cuddles up with you and gives you infinite love."
"Don't all dogs go to Heaven, Danny?"
"I have strong evidence that there is no such thing as Heaven just like. A door down. Literally past that wall over there."
"Fair enough." Tucker sighed and laid his head back. Then he sat straight up with a grin. "You know what's a great way of being harder to trap?"
"Intelligence?"
"Mobility, Sam. If we finish those hoverboards we should be able to avoid most of his land traps!" Danny and Tucker beamed at each other and high fived each other.
"I'm good to go on that! Sam, wanna learn how to-"
"You guys can have your geek things, Danny, I'm heading upstairs to make use of all your handhelds." Sam smiled and held her hands up, walking to the stairs. "Scream if you need me."
"Same to you!" Danny grinned and headed to the door that lead to the main lab.
“You know how your gravity inverter™ works better than I do so I’m gonna work on like, an AI. No, Danny don’t give me that look, it’s just for navigation, it isn’t self improving or anything like that. I just want something to help me not crash into things when flying.”
#Danny Phantom#Danny Fenton#Tucker Foley#Sam Manson#Jazz Fenton#Jack Fenton#Maddie Fenton#Skulker#Hunter Grovsner#fanfiction#Phanfiction#fanPhiction#fanfic#Phanfic#fanPhic#PhanPhiction#PhanPhic#MCS#Monstrous Chosen Spellslingers#Rexy Writes
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