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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months

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Cave boy Danny just casually mentioning things that correspond with Bruce, like the time he stole an experimental power suit and shot a god corresponding with Bruce shooting Darkseid or the Infi-map being like the time Bruce was lost in the time stream, and the bats wondering how this kid can remain a civilian

Danny tried his best to not blink too quickly, as it may cause the stranger to shoot him. He honestly has no idea how he ended up here, but somehow, he was taken hostage alongside a bus full of people on his way to buy some chips.

He got tired of Alfred's instance to ban all junk food from the manor and had snuck out while the Wyanes had been busy going over plans for some big showdown with a guy named Scarecrow.

Danny doesn't know who that is and doesn't care to find out. The less he knows, the less likely he will have to deal with rouge. He's on vacation, dang it.

Or he was until the bus was taken over by a group of men wearing gas masks. They forced their way onto the bus when they stopped for some passengers, forcing the driver at gunpoint to drive them off course, and now they were heading to a wear house. People were crying, but Danny felt like screaming.

He just wanted spicy chips, and- maybe if he had the time- he would swing by the old junkyard to find a steering wheel for his ship! Fenton luck strikes again, it seemed.

"I wouldn't be so smug, Kane," One of the people in a gas mask shouts at him. He blinks up at the woman pointing her gun at his head but scoffs at her stance. His mother would throw a fit if Danny or Jazz ever placed their feet so off balance like that while wielding a weapon. "Once Dr.Crane is done with you-"

"I'm sorry did you just threaten me with myself?" Danny cuts her off. She pauses seemingly thrown before she sputters.

"No- not Kane, Crane."

He blinks at her. "You just said the same thing"

"C-R-A-N-E." She spells in a huff.

"Ohhhhh. Sorry, the mask makes it hard to understand you. Okay, so where were you? Dr. Crane is going to do what with me-?" Danny asks, leaning back in his seat, and waving his hand at her.

There is a moment of silence before she hits him across the face with her gun. "Don't you mock me!"

"Ow." He deadpans, rubbing at his cheek, and wonders if it was supposed to hurt. His healing had vanished the pain before her gun left his skin. "I thought we were having a conversation, but forgive me, I had no idea you had an inferiority complex and assumed everyone was mocking you. Let me guess, no one has ever told you they are proud of you, and now you are defensive of every action you take because-"

"Shut up!" His voice wobbles and Danny knows he hit the nail on the head.

"Does it keep you up at night? Does it freak you out that everyone can see your issues on your face as bright as day? I bet it does it. Bet it causes you to cry like a sad little confused kid who still can't figure out how to ask for help." He doesn't mock. He states it as fact because that is what it was. Fact. She does break down about it; he can tell by her reaction, and his tone makes it all the harder to swallow.

"I'll kill you!"

"Do it." He smiles. "Saves me from your boss. But will that keep you safe? Let's find out! How long will it be before he breaks you down? Ten, maybe fifteen minutes? And he will break you; you know he will. He's already halfway there."

"I-" She stumbles away from him. He doesn't have to see her face to know it's gone pale. Ha.

One of her crew hits her shoulder, having heard him speaking while the rest of the bus stares. "Stop letting him into your head!"

"Oh, what's your name?" Danny asks, blinking his large blue eyes at the man, watching his body language for clues. His eyes zero in on three belts and how they all match up at the buckle despite the fact that they are stacked on top of each other. Didn't Jazz once say that a belt with that much control hinted about attention to detail?

Hmm.

"Is the plan falling apart- can you not control it? The way life just moves on without you and that freaks you out doesn't it. The lake of control?" He asks, and the man jerks back. Bingo.

"Holy shit," A teenager whispers in the back horrified. "It's Dr. Crane jr."

"No, that's the Rabid Dog," Another answer. "Heard he made three elites cry after talking to him for more than ten minutes."

Danny is about to open his mouth when suddenly Robin crashes through the front window. Rude. There is glass everywhere now.

Hours later, Alfred franticly checks him over for injuries while the rest are freaking out. Apparently, they had feared to find Danny screaming from terrible visions but instead found him mentally breaking the hired goons with Jazz's training. "It's not like they did anything. I had a harder time stealing a super suit than those fruitloops-"

"You stole a what?" Tim cuts him off, eyes narrowed. Danny shrugs.

"I mean, haven't we all stolen a super suit?"

"Literally, no one here has done that," Steph tells him, and Danny tilts his head.

"You guys must have had boring childhoods. Surely you at least tried to organize your school into a battle-ready militia? No one can finish school without doing that at least once."

Dick raises a hand. "Brucie, how common is this in your world? Because that's alarming."

"All the kids at my school do that. My graduating class has done it three different times back in freshmen year." He shrugs. Cass makes a strange noise in the back of her throat.

"Not a lie. Brucie is strange," She tells the group, and everyone stares in bewilderment at the boy sitting on the medical table, even Bruce.

Danny smiles at them sweetly like he would at Vlad when the fruitloop is over, and he gets his parents to throw him out sooner than he wants to leave. It curves with just the right amount of innocence and mischievous nature that no one can tell if it's a positive or deadly expression.

"You are from a war-torn world?" Damian inquires, fingers under his chin with a frown. "How are you so carefree?"

"Oh no, we haven't had a war in about- eh fifty years? Give or take." He answers and once again Cass confirms the truth of his words.

This does nothing to settle their nerves.

"Every day I learn more about teenage Bruce, and every day I am more unsettled," Jason announces, and the rest of the Bats nod. Danny's smile turns broader and softer. It makes him more attractive but unsettling in a way.

Alfred sighs with a fond smile. "Oh, the memories. Master Bruce used to smile at his dates in the same way. I can picture him taking that sweet girl to the movies as if though it was yesterday."

"Bruce, how in the world did you get people to date you? That's creepy as hell. " Dick accuses the man who only shrugs.

"Oliver once told me it was part of the thrill. The idea that I could kill them."

"Why!?"

"I wish I knew chum."

Danny slips the control into his sleeve- he will rip it apart later for the Bluetooth piece. He will wait till the Waynes are too busy with Bruce's old stories about his first few dates to take apart the fear gas bomb he took from the woman earlier today. Could he use it as a fuel?

He'll have to do some tests.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Cave Boy #Part 4 #Danny continues to be strange #He tells no lies but not all truths #The weird part is that he's still acting like teenage Bruce #Mentally breaking down Scarecrow's crew is a big accomplisment #Tim is even more weary of him

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theres-a-body-here · 8 months

Text

Ghostface with Creep!reader Part 2

Ever since you and Danny made your little movie, it went without saying that you two were now a couple

And he's pretty clingy

Like a cat

In between trials he lays his head on your lap at the campfire

Like he owns it

Arms behind his head along with a loud content sigh

He glances to make sure the other killers are watching

"Babe, you're sooooo comfy"

The others either roll their eyes or groan

He chuckles and then rolls over to press his face into your stomach

"Mhhhmmhhmmmhhh"

You let him move into your realm since he never had one

(Think Haddonfield but sunny)

You give him the tour

"And this is where I filmed Jenny's death. She screamed a lot"

"That's hot babe" camera flash

You show him your home

Or at least the Entity's recreation of it

He looks around as you stand proud

There's a long pause

Silence fills the air

"Hey wolfie......your home blows ass"

You slump

siggghhhhh "I know"

Danny helps you spruce up the place while you're at a trial

"Trust me babe, I know what I'm doing. I once killed a interior home designer"

Returning from your trial, you step into the realm once more and enter your "home," the place where Danny had undertaken the task of redecorating. As you take in the changes, you're surprised to find that he's actually done a good job. Furniture has been shifted around to create a more balanced layout, and paintings adorn the walls, adding a touch of life to the otherwise eerie space. You notice it's some of Carmina's work.

You can't help but wonder if he "borrowed" the artwork, considering his........Danny-ness

However, your gaze lands on something that doesn't quite fit the rest of the decorations. A wall adorned with Polaroids depicting his past murder victims catches your attention. It's a stark contrast to the rest of the aesthetic changes he's made.

"Damn it, Danny, the composition is all wrong," you mutter with a hint of frustration, your annoyance stemming from his lack of attention to aesthetics. The Polaroids are haphazardly nailed to the wall, without any discernible pattern or arrangement.

Beside you, Danny simply shrugs and looks at you with an impish grin.

"Well, can't please everyone, can I? Besides, I thought it'd be a fun way to show off my... accomplishments," he responds with his characteristic smugness, his tone unapologetic.

Rolling your eyes at Danny's response, you can't help but mutter a teasing insult under your breath. "Moron," you scoff, your words laced with affectionate amusement.

You both go on stalking dates

Meaning you sneak around the survivor camp and record them from afar

You both giggle like schoolgirls when you throw a pebble at Dwight's head

The nervous wreck of a leader is so confused as he darts his head around

You record everything on your camcorder

"Wolfie, lemme try. Record this"

"Okay, ready"

You focus your viewfinder on Dwight, expecting another pebble

Something suddenly pierces Dwight's neck at full speed

It makes a squelching sound and then a crack as it hits bone

Dwight falls dead

Danny deadass threw his knife at Dwight

The survivor camp erupts into chaos

Danny grabs your hand as you two hightail it out of there

You're both laughing like hyenas

The Entity makes you both walk Demogorgon around the entire realm as punishment

For a whole week

Well at least you're together

As you and Danny navigate the Yamaoka estate, you hold the leash that's tethered to the Demogorgon. The creature's towering form is a stark contrast to the mundane concept of a "dog," yet here you are.

"Hey, Danny, can you hold the leash?" you inquire, a hint of mischief dancing in your voice. Danny simply shrugs and nods as he takes the leash from your hand. You watch with a faint smirk as he wraps the leash around his hand.

Taking advantage of the moment, you calmly reach down to your boot and retrieve a sliver of jerky. With a casual, nonchalant demeanor, you extend the treat towards the Demogorgon. "Here, boy, fetch," you utter, your tone tinged with amusement as you toss the jerky away from you.

In an instant, the Demogorgon reacts, its predatory instincts kicking in as it lunges after the jerky. The force of its movement catches Danny off guard, and he's practically yanked off his feet, the leash becoming a makeshift tether that tugs him along like a ragdoll.

"Asssshoooollllleee!" Danny's indignant yell carries through the air, the word drawn out as he's pulled farther away from you. His insults grow faint as the distance between you increases, his voice eventually becoming a distant echo.

A bout of genuine laughter escapes your lips. Maybe punishment wasn't so bad as long as Danny was there.

Masterlist here

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #killer!reader #creep!reader #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface

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hyperfixated-gvf · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner | Rated Explicit for Later Chapters | Words: 4k

Warnings: Language, age-appropriate foolishness, recreational drug use (weed)

Chapter Summary: Just a run of the mill hike between friends -- what life-changing revelations could possibly come to light?

In collaboration with/edited by @gretavanfreaky

~~~

When it came down to it, the scene that had been set played a key role in how they’d wound up.

It was picturesque – a real rom-com setting with a series of events to match. Cruising around a small town in Vermont in the later months of autumn on a slow Tuesday mid-morning, most of the little townspeople tucked away at their jobs and allowing Sam and Danny to free-range the streets easily.

Sam’s fascination with all the colors of the leaves brought an air of child-like joy to the car, and Danny didn’t mind the faintest wisp of pink that the wind from the rolled-down windows nipped into his nose. Not when it allowed Sam to stick his head further out and get a better look at the fall canopies, at least.

In fact, he quite liked the feeling – this season was one of his favorites, and the crisp licks against his face reminded him, strangely enough, of the warmth from the collection of sweaters he’d unintentionally managed to amass over the years, of stepping on crunchy leaves, and of damp, misty clouds that followed on the curtails of a deep breath in the early morning.

“Look!”

Danny shook himself out of his road-daze, tearing his eyes from the streets they were traveling down that were getting more and more sparsely-populated by houses the further they drifted. They must have been closer to reaching the city’s limits than they thought. “What?”

Sam’s face was much pinker than Danny’s – a subsequent effect of putting one’s face directly into the windstream of a car, for sure, but disregarded in the wake of the comforting peace that the deafening rush of air by ears and a better view brought. “There – that sign we just passed.” Danny didn’t bother looking for it, but Sam would elaborate soon enough. “It said ‘something Peak’ was ahead. I didn’t catch the name. We should check it out!”

Without a schedule for the day, and Jake and Josh having chosen to meet a friend of theirs in the town over, Danny shrugged and nodded. “Sure. Just keep your eyes peeled for the next sign so that we actually know where we’re going and don’t end up in–” his next words rang a bell in his head as he thought of them, a bell that sounded faintly like a warning, and it hit him – oh god, he was gonna regret this – but it was too late now because the words were already coming out, “–New Hampshire or some shit.”

Sam grinned immediately – the epitome of the Cheshire Cat – and splayed his hand out in the wind. “Oh – is that our neighbor state right now? Capital…” he clicked his tongue in faux deliberation “–Concord, right?” he asked casually, rolling his head to watch Danny. “I didn’t know.”

Danny rolled his eyes in a way entirely unsafe for driving a car. Didn’t know. Sam knew just about everything besides how to keep himself alive when left alone, which is exactly why he’d beaten Danny in the 8th grade Geography Bee they’d been forced to partake in all those years ago, on the question of the New Hampshire capital city.

Even now, digging their nails into a brush with fame and clawing their way to ‘we made it,’ it was a wonder that he hadn’t mentioned it before, being so close to that sweet taste of lingering victory, as petty as it was.

Danny hoped it was bland after all this time.

“Pike.”

Danny glanced over to his passenger. That wasn’t a code he recognized. “...Is that another capital you want to hang over my head?”

Sam snorted, flicking Danny in the arm before pointing to a green sign in the distance. “No, dummy. It’s Pike Peak. That’s the name of what I saw back there.”

“I bet it’ll be super pretty this time of year,” Danny murmured, pleasantly surprised that the turn to reach it was only another half-mile down the road - he’d have driven as long as it took, but it would be nice to get back to town and explore the little festival they had going some more before dark.

Any time he had alone with Sam, though, he would take.

All thoughts of grade school competitions were forgotten as Danny put the blinker on and turned onto the deserted road that would apparently lead them to Pike Peak. The road snaked through a wooded area that only seemed to thicken as they drove, and each man kept expecting a place to park and start hiking to be just around the next bend, but their path kept winding up the side of the hill (mountain? Who knew.).

Sam shifted in his seat, looking up into the oranges, the reds, the maroon, and the golds with starry eyes and a soft smile. It would never get old for him. The beauty of the change – of seasons and Nature’s physical expression of the passing of time that he didn’t always get to see when they ventured too far South, or were stuck in the studio doing sporadic 10-hour days.

“So is this a hike or just a drive?” Danny inquired as they followed the road probably another quarter-mile upwards without evidence of a stopping point. “I wonder if this road leads all the way up to the peak.”

It wasn’t much of a concern; hiking or driving, they’d never been here before, and just being able to get out and explore together was plenty enough to placate them. “I dunno,” Sam sighed, on the edge of dreamy.

They’d had, of course, heard of the beauty you could find in Vermont, but it was entirely different getting to experience it on their own time, even if only for a day.

Admittedly, it would have been a pretty substantial hike going entirely uphill. When the road started evening out over the course of the next mile, they finally pulled into a gravelly parking space that housed only one other car.

There was a simultaneous clicking of seatbelts and opening of doors, and Danny took a good look around their surroundings. “I think this is it,” he ventured, seizing the opportunity to soak in what Sam had been ogling at while he navigated the turns.

He didn’t blame him, though. It was gorgeous - foliage sprouted from every branch, and through the spaces between thick trunks, there was a continuous flurry of movement as leaves on every tree were jostled from their place by a breeze or a little critter and began their slow spiral to join the ground cover that was still just as vibrant as the higher origin from which it came from.

“Wow,” he whistled, making a turn to properly take it all in.

Sam’s converse rustled the rocks and leaves underfoot and drew Danny’s attention away from above and back to his friend. “The peak’s this way – it must be a hike after all.”

He knew Danny would follow him, but he made sure to lope towards the beginning of the path extra slowly, letting him commit the scenery to memory before moving on. And, sure enough, he heard heavy footsteps approach from behind as he lingered by the trail information stand. “Still only a third of a mile, though. Must be a popular family spot to be so short. Or a tourist location.”

Danny lightly tapped Sam’s arm as he passed him by, communicating to him that he was moving on. “Oh well – I’m sure it’ll be worth it, then,” he said good-naturedly. “Tourist spots don’t get their titles for no reason.”

He was right, and Sam flitted around him like a hyperactive bird for the entire third of a mile, admiring the scenery on one side before crossing in front of Danny and making him stutter-step to inspect a cool mushroom or pick up a mottled maple leaf.

It wasn’t long before they reached the peak – sectioned off with a rope fence when the terrain started rolling downward to signify that you weren’t going to get much higher. Sam blinked, wonder stealing his desire to talk as he and Danny each claimed one of the wide, wooden fence posts to plant their hands on.

It was so hilly, and the treetops looked more like someone’s blooming mum garden than it did an actual landscape. The ground was mostly covered, but there was a small creek close enough to them to catch the small break between one side and the other from above, and a few patches of green where there must have been a cabin, or a checkpoint for forest rangers to pass through.

“That’s a lot of trees,” Danny said, mouth upturned in gentle delight. He felt Sam’s gaze on him and knew what was coming next – Sam could never help himself when it came to Danny.

“That’s a lot of trees,” he mocked lightly, chuffing at his own joke. “One of the great wonders of the US, and all you have to say is, ‘that’s a lot of trees.’”

Danny didn’t answer, as there was no sharpness behind his teasing, no search for it to develop any further than a small exchange of playfulness between friends – even Sam could tell that the scene was softening everything about him – about them.

Usually raucous and full of untamed chaos, the boys’ quiet moments existed, but not normally together. Danny and Sam, in congruence with Jake and Josh’s puzzle-piece match, seemed particularly suited to amplify the other’s inhibition-less behavior.

Sam loved his influence on Danny, and perhaps even Danny’s on him — it made him feel special. Needed.

But influence, as per usual, eventually rooted and this time, it was Danny who spotted an opportunity for adventure. He flapped his hand in Sam’s direction to get his attention. “Look - I think…I think this might be the end of the path, but it might not be the end of the trail.”

Sam’s eyes searched the area where Danny was pointing, and immediately picked out the condensed line of leafy ground in contrast to the fullness of that which lay untrampled around it. “A secret pathway?” he hummed inquisitively, pursing his lips in interest. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Sam climbed over the ropes, unheeding of the unspoken stop sign that the fence posed. He never was one to stop when others told him to, and that particular proclivity had gotten him in more than a little bit of trouble over the years, but it had also taught him things he wouldn’t have learned had he stayed within the established constraints.

His willingness to commit so quickly without considering the consequences bolstered Danny’s confidence, and he was right on Sam’s heels as they peered down the hillside, watching the little rocks that they kicked out with each step roll across a few leaves before coming to rest.

The path definitely wasn’t an advertised one – certainly more of a ‘locals-only’ one. It was unofficial enough that Sam and Danny both knew if a conservation officer or park ranger caught them trying to traverse it, would have a few choice words and a spiel that was far from new as they were escorted back to the official Pike Peak.

“It’s quieter here,” Danny remarked as the worn-down path curved away from the downhill curve of the terrain and further underneath the canopy. They moved side by side, this time, slower than they had on the hike here, more rooted in the pensive atmosphere they were provided with. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah.” Their words seemed to die quickly – dampened by the pure volume of natural sound barriers around them, existing in the layers of leaves beneath their feet, the thickets of brush, and the dense pillars of tree trunks growing side by side.

But the quiet was never fated to last long; not when it came to them.

They caught movement through the trees, and what looked like two people coming back on the same path that they were walking.

Danny and Sam looked at each other; it could only be the owners of the other car they’d seen in the lot – and by the sound of it, it was a boy and a girl, younger, probably, judging by the giggling and boisterous sounds of a young buck trying to make an impression.

Their volume cut through the stillness that had previously enshrouded the space around the two boys, but neither minded. It was actually probably better to announce your presence in the middle of the woods – Sam had been forced to watch too many slasher films to know that even in the midst of dried out leaves that would rustle and crack at the slightest touch, you could always be the next unfortunate soul at the wrong end of the chainsaw.

Well, in movies, at least. He really doubted that Leatherface was going to make an appearance, but encountering other people in out-of-the-way places still put him on high-alert at times.

He took a quick glance at his friend, and Danny remained seemingly unbothered. Having him by his side always provided him the reassurance he needed to relax, funnily enough.

‘Funnily enough’ because it didn’t mean that both of the boys wouldn’t still be chopped up into little pieces regardless, should they suddenly be plunged into a slasher film. But Sam would much rather be chopped up and stored in little mason jar containers with Danny’s remains than all by his lonesome – especially if that meant they could come back and haunt the woods as ghost buddies, too.

The thought still made Sam frown and shake his head. Gruesome thoughts had no place on a peaceful nature walk to an unknown location. And the kids they encountered were far from slasher film villains, too – probably pushing 17 at the most and obviously just a young couple skipping school to spend time with each other.

Danny smiled at them pleasantly as they approached, unsure if they’d be recognized or not. They were at a place as a band that it was a growing possibility, but still not something they’d come to expect, and the two kids either didn’t expect a couple of non-locals (the hardcore purebreds always seemed to have a nose for that kind of thing) or did recognize them, but were too star-struck to do anything but stare with flushed cheeks and a strange, slightly curious look.

He highly doubted it was the latter.

Either way, they passed by each other without incident, and heard the stifled giggles and whispered words likely at Sam and Danny’s expense as they got further and further away, eventually falling out of earshot and settling back into the tranquil quiet.

“We’re not that out of place, are we?” Sam asked eventually, brain still trying to understand what exactly that little interaction was about.

Danny laughed at Sam’s delayed reaction, and shrugged. “I mean…you’re wearing Jake’s pirate shirt and women’s pants – you might be,” he joked, refusing to budge when Sam veered into him and gave him an exasperated shoulder. “But I’m not really sure why they were looking at us so strangely.”

The path began to turn back towards the drop-off, if the peak stretched further than the roped-off area, which Danny highly suspected it did. Wherever the path led was likely where the teenagers had come from, and where Sam and Danny were headed, as well.

“Unless this is, you know–” Danny looked over to see Sam wiggling his eyebrows at him, “–the spot.”

Danny smiled and dragged his eyes back to the path - there was an opening in the canopy that looked like another point of the peak just up ahead, and he was certain he’d caught a glimpse of a small clearing, too. “Uh-huh, and you’d know all about ‘spots,’ wouldn’t you, Sammy?”

“The ladies love a comedian, what can I say?”

Despite all being chest-deep into making the band work while maintaining normal teenage lives, Sam managed to scratch a line into a tree back home to ‘the spot’ he was referencing every time he brought a girl there. And although Danny had every single name that he’d had entanglements with in the exact same spot memorized and with vivid memory of what went down that totaled a couple more than Sam’s tally marks, Sam insisted that he had no physical proof and claimed another win for himself, crowning himself the lady-killer of the duo.

Danny didn’t mind, because it was true — lots of people loved a comedian, and Sam sure as hell could be one.

They stepped onto a clearing, guarded on one side from most of the leaves by a wall of eroded rock with graffiti covering much of the surface. Both boys were immediately drawn to it — each scouring the rock face for funny sayings, doomed initials in crossed-out hearts, and crude jokes.

“Ooo,” Sam trilled, pointing to a splash of faded color, “we’ve got some drama.”

Danny scooted over to where he was and laughed, jokingly asking “Got any spare lipstick on you, Sam?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, smile already creeping onto his lips. “My left asscheek, from last night where your mom—“

In an uncharacteristically aggressive move, Danny swooped his arm around Sam’s neck and hooked him into a headlock, careful to not pull his long locks uncomfortably, and held him there as he laughed and cried, “Uncle! Uncle!” until Danny let him go. “Sorry to Lori, but it was too good an opportunity to resist!” he claimed, and Danny just flinched towards him again in threat, Sam’s hands coming up by his face defensively.

They turned back towards the rock wall, moving on from the bright red lipstick stain over the name ‘Mason’ that had been covered by a deeper purple set of lips, assumedly in a show of possession. Beyond that, it was typical of a ‘hidden’ teenage hideout, that rangers and police alike most likely knew plenty about, and the rest of the graffiti consisted of age-appropriate drawings of dicks, one “Clits rule!” message, a few scrawled out numbers with provocative messages probably drawn on by teasing friends, some unfortunate break up rants (apparently, there was a contest at some point over whether Grant or Emma broke more hearts, and Grant was winning by 1), and lots of “class of…” years with names of strangers attached to them.

Danny dragged his finger across a name that was etched into the rock instead of drawn on, and commented, “Popular place.”

“Well, it’s the ‘spot,’ Daniel,” Sam scoffed, “What’d you expect?”

Sam was cut off, though, with an answering groan and Danny’s, “Will you shut up about the ‘spot?’” But when Sam looked over, Danny’s face was still softly playful and unirritated.

“No.”

Past Daniel, he saw a tuft of dark gray plastic sticking out from underneath an unassuming mound of leaves, and Sam almost dismissed it for just another piece of litter, like the various wrappers and cigarette butts along the side that faced out towards the forest. But it was definitely covered up intentionally – if poorly – and that was enough to make him go over and drag the bag out from its place hidden in the ground cover.

Thinking it held some goodies, Sam began to sing, “I think I found somebody’s staaasshhh– oh GROSS!” he yelped, dropping the Walmart sack with disgust written plainly across his face as he perked inside.

Danny hopped over to Sam, his exclamation drawing his full attention. But when he looked at Sam for some context, since he couldn’t see what was inside the bag, Sam covered his mouth, dramatically acting as if he was going to vomit. “That’s someone’s used fucking condom trash bag!” he gagged, answering Danny’s silent question, finally.

Danny burst out laughing – common sense should have told Sam not to pick up suspicious Walmart bags hidden at what he was insisting was the town’s hookup spot, but he knew Sam lacked that common sense. “What else were you expecting?” he giggled, undeniably at Sam’s expense, but unable to help it.

Sam began to pout, flushing at Danny’s jabs. Sam was the sarcasm guy – he was known across multiple states as the whip-smart prankster and didn’t like being on the other end of the stick. “I dunno,” he frowned, disappointment settling into his veins once he started to think about it. “Weed, I guess. Maybe a cig, at least. Or…fucking condoms that weren’t already spent– god, I can’t believe I picked that shit up,” he bemoaned.

Now all he had was dirty hands and a hankering for both a cigarette and a blunt.

Almost as if he could read Sam’s mind, Danny rolled his eyes and gripped Sam’s shoulder, leading him away from his failed discovery. “C’mere, stupid,” he said affectionately. “I came prepared.”

He sat down on a patch of less-pebbly ground near the downwards roll where he could still see the land beyond the trees on the slope. The sun was high in the sky by now, and it must have been just past noon, or sometime near it, but there were clouds in the west, and Danny thought they looked a lot like storm clouds, but there hadn’t been anything on the radar for today.

Well, there hadn’t been the last time he checked, which was like…three days ago. In New York.

“Prepared?” Sam asked curiously, plopping down beside him before making a face and shifting, pulling a rock out from under him. “Prepared, how?”

He knew as soon as Danny pulled the old Altoids tin from his pocket, and sighed in relief, throwing his arm around shoulders and planting a big kiss on his cheek.

“Thank god for you, Daniel Wagner.”

Danny’s skin heated under Sam’s lips, and he turned away to blush in peace, pretending to look for his lighter. “I thought you probably had some cigarettes, but I dipped into my stash and thought we could have options,” he said, clearing his throat. He flicked the flame on, watching it flicker before releasing the trigger to extinguish it. “Whaddya think?”

“After picking up some rando’s jizzy condoms, I wanna be higher than Pike fucking Peak,” Sam said, meeting Danny’s eyes. “I’ll pay you back – I know you shell out for the good shit.”

Danny waved him off. If there was ever something categorically hopeless, it was keeping track of who owed who for weed between the four of them, so they didn’t worry about it. They made enough not to worry about it, anyways, so it was pretty inconsequential.

Before long, they were ¾ of the way into a joint, passing it back and forth between them and giggling at old stories they’d each told each other three separate times.

It was different, though. Every time they told the same story, they were in a new place, with new experiences under their belts and fresh ears to hear the words as if they’d never heard it before.

Eyes that had expanded horizons to see it in a different perspective.

Danny brushed his hair back, tucking wisps behind his ear as they frizzed onto his cheekbone, and Sam wanted to say that he couldn’t help the trail that his gaze made – down Danny’s face, tracing the tendon in his neck, across the muscle the resided in his shoulder, to his skinny waist and crisscrossed legs – but what he actually couldn’t do was claim that he fought the urge to at all.

He was Sam’s best friend.

But new place, new experiences, fresh ears, expanded horizons –

“Hey, Daniel?” he asked, voice seeming loud in comparison to the rustle of the trees in the foreground.

The wind had picked up, and it created a soft white-noise ambience about the scene. When Danny turned his head — small, dopey smile set on his lips, his eyes slightly hooded from the weed, and his cheekbones illuminated by a bobbled moment of sunlight as the sun slipped in and out of cloud cover — Sam was struck dumb for a moment.

It was the weed. He blamed the drugs.

“Yeah?”

And so, the scene had been set:

Autumn in Vermont, mid-afternoon on a secluded peak, a chill whistling through the air and clouds rolling in to cover the sun, which caused the two boys to press closer together just as their joint was smoked down to a nub and snuffed out, only to be pocketed once again.

And Sam? Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of Danny because of it.

~~~

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

Half of

Danny Fenton was half ghost. Or something.

No one was quite sure what that meant exactly or if it was even true. A ghost in a pure white suit had announced it during an attack on the town until he was beaten and silenced by Phantom. It’s been three days since then and the nerd hasn’t been at school. Not that Dash was looking for him or anything.

Dash worried, for just a second, that something bad happened to him. The Guys in White creeps had been asking questions around school the last few days. There’d been a noticeable lack in ghost attacks around town, maybe another ghost got to him? What about his ghost obsessed parents? Surely they wouldn’t have done anything to their own kid...

“Think Danny will be in school today?” Kwan whispered nervously, leaning in close to Dash’s side. Talking too loudly about the elephant, or ghost he guesses, in the room got people very forcefully interviewed by the government.

“Why the hell would I know?” Dash grumbled, shaking his friend off to shove his hands deep into the pockets of his letterman jacket. “No one knows what’s going on, Manson and Foley haven’t shown up either.”

“I hope they’re ok,” Kwan said quietly, looking down at the floor.

“Why do you care?” Dash grumbled, harsher than he meant to.

“You and everyone ditched me for Danny when Paulina was dating him, remember? Sam and Tucker were real pals and Danny, well he’s weird but not really that bad.” Kwan said bitterly before his eyebrows twisted in confusion. “That was actually pretty out of character for Paulina to date him now that I think about it, maybe he was, like, using ghost magic to control her?”

“That’s stu-” Dash was interrupted by the usually noise of Casper High going dead silent. He and Kwan shrugged at each other. He saw Star down the hallway, staring at something. He caught her eye and mouthed What is it at her. Her eyes slid back over to the hall before mouthing Fenton back.

“Shit,” Dash couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Fenton’s here.” He glanced over at Kwan, trying to hide his nervousness. “Guess we’ll find out if he’s some sort of ghost freak after all.”

Kwan eyed him for a second, “you know if Danny really is half of a ghost then maybe you’ll want to quit it with the names.” The warning bell rang for first period. “You guys have homeroom together with Lancer, right? Just, I don’t know, don’t make him mad or anything.”

“Man, don’t even joke,” Dash said with a strained smile. “It’s Fenton, what’s the nerd gonna do?”

XxX

Fenton always sat in the back right of the class so seeing him there wasn’t that strange. What was strange was that he was there before the bell rang, not looking sweaty or exhausted or beaten up. Seeing him sitting there with an almost bored expression, casually leaning one arm over the back of his chair. It was eerie, seeing Fenton try to act normal. Dash felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on his head as he stiffly walked by the nerd he usually smacked when he walked by. He thought he felt Fenton’s icy eyes following him as he passed. Dash made sure he didn’t scurry like a wimp to his seat but it was a close thing.

“Class, please stop staring at Mr. Fenton and let us begin,” Lancer sighed, unsuccessfully trying to start the class.

“Do you know the ghost boy?” Paulina asked, slamming her palms on her desk and ignoring their teacher. “Because if you’ve been holding out on me-”

“I mean everyone in Amity Park knows him,” Fenton shrugged. He’d been so chill this morning, like the whole thing wasn’t bothering him. It only made Dash more antsy. He bounced his leg under the desk.

“Can you do anything cool? Like fly or shoot lasers from your eyes?” Mikey asked, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I can do lots of cool things,” Fenton sniffed. “I know a lot about the space program and local astronomy. I draw sometimes and I’m think I’m pretty good. I also have super flexible joints so I can do this.” He grinned a little as everyone squealed when he bent his thumb back so far it nearly touched his wrist. “Of course,” his grin turned into an eye roll, “no one really cares about that only my supposed superpowers.”

“What is a half of, exactly? What that ghost called you?” Dash found himself asking. He almost didn’t want to be heard but Fenton turned to look at him anyways.

“What do you think it means?” Fenton questioned back. Though he had a teasing smirk, his eyes looked dull and dead. Dash couldn’t look at them and ducked his head.

“Alright, alright, enough with the questions. The Fenton’s gave Danny a clean bill of health and allowed him to rejoin class so that’s all you kids need to know. Now, back to what we were actually talking about.” Class continued as expected but everyone still snuck glances at Fenton. He’s not sure what they were all waiting for, him to suddenly turn green or sprout horn or whatever. But Fenton just sat there, still as anything, trying to act normal and it just didn’t fit him right and it was all just. Wrong.

XxX

Dash was relieved Fenton wasn’t in his second or third period classes but they did have the same lunchtime. For the first time since he was skinny, bucktoothed 6th grader, Dash wanted to hide away and eat his lunch in private. But Fenton wasn’t the only one trying to keep up appearances.

“Alright, what has everyone got,” Paulina was whispering to the table by the time Dash was sitting down. “The day is halfway over, someone had to have seen him doing something ghostly.”

“I mean we don’t know how long he’s been like this,” Star commented, flipping her hair as pretense to sneak a glance at the loser trio near the back entrance of the cafeteria. “He could’ve been hiding his for a while.”

“Fenton’s always been weird,” Dale commented with a sneer, stabbing at his beefaroni. “Since day one, he’s been jumpy and clumsy and goes through weird mood swings.”

“Maybe he’s never been normal,” Kwan said with a little frown. Now Dash knows this wasn’t true. He was the only one at the table who’d gone to the same middle school as Fenton. The nerd had talked too much about space and was always tripping over something but he’d been like all the other annoying brats in middle school. Dale was onto something, Fenton had changed once high school hit which means whatever is up with him as been going on for a while. Years.

He suddenly felt eyes on him, a cold, crawling feeling that made his breath catch in his throat. Dash squeezed his eyes shut and breathed a silent sigh of relief as the eyes turned from him. They didn’t return but Dash found he couldn’t eat after that.

XxX

“Dude, did you hear about Fenton?” Victor said in an excited but still hushed whisper as Dash was leaving fifth period.

“No, what did he do?” Dash asked with dread.

“He had gym last period and apparently he’s been faking his loser weakness. He crawled up the rope climb like a goddamned spider monkey and then slid himself back down. Don’t know how he didn’t have intense rope burn from that. He also beat Charlie, Katie and Veronica on the sprinting portion. Must be those ghosty genes.”

“Fenton did all that?” Dash asked, he bit the inside of his cheek. Hard.

“Yeah it was crazy, I thought Tetslaf was gonna pass out,” Victor laughed. “Maybe we should get him to try out for the football team, he’d be a great running back or-”

“Come on, Vic,” Dash laughed but the sound came out wrong. “Why would we want Fenton on our team? He’s, he’s Fenton! Just a skinny, weird little wimp.” Vic side-eyed him a bit before clapping Dash on the back.

“World’s changing, Dash. First ghosts, now half ghosts, it’s all wrong but you just gotta roll with it. All I know is I have 2 years left in this hell hole before I leave this miserable place for Chicago and never look back. I recommend you do the same, after all,” Vic grinned again but it was sharper. “Fenton’s always been your personal punching bag, not every day you learn your victim has superpowers.”

“We don’t know what the hell is up with Fenton,” Dash defended. Vic just shrugged.

“Yeah but he’s always been a freak now we know he ain’t human. Who knows what else he’s hiding?” Vic said with a smug smile before wandering off, giving a halfhearted wave over his shoulder as he left.

Dash stood in the hallway, trying to get himself under control until the warning and late bell rang. Only then, when he was certain he wouldn’t run into Fenton, did he head to class.

XxX

“Should we follow him, see where he goes?” Paulina said, biting onto one of her nails in nervous excitement. Paulie was gorgeous and overall pretty cool but her thing with ghosts sometimes tired Dash out. Now more than ever.

“Come on, that’s like stalking,” Kwan scolded. “Even if that wasn’t illegal or whatever it’s just not cool. They had a rough day today, leave ‘em alone.” That icy chill returned and Dash looked out of the corner of his eye to see Fenton and his cronies walking out of the school.

Truthfully, Dash didn’t think Fenton had that bad of a day. Yeah people were asking questions but he’d side stepped them all, gave non-answers. Other people talked about Fenton’s supposed strength in gym but there’d been conflicting reports, some said he flew up the rope climb, others said he levitated doing his push ups. Dash really didn’t know what to believe. Fenton was just acting, well, like Fenton. He paused for a second, stopped walking before catching up with the group.

Maybe... maybe Dash was getting caught up over nothing. There really was no proof Fenton was this ‘half of’ other than what one dumb ghost said. He thought back to Fenton’s grin during first period; stupid nerd was probably milking his 15 minutes of fame and bully free time. His earlier fear and uncertainty burst into flames until a familiar anger was burning in his gut. Now this he knew what to do with.

“Yeah, well his day is about to get rougher,” Dash heard himself say as he stomped off to where Fenton was smiling tiredly at something Manson was saying. “Hey Fentonio! Think you’re pretty cool with every paying attention to you but I-”

Fenton gasped suddenly, like a hiccup only his breath misted out in front of him cold as a winter’s day. Dash stopped midsentence watching as Fenton’s whole face twisted. His earlier weary but tolerant annoyance that he’d been projecting all day was stripped away. He glared at Dash with an expression that was hard as ice and full of an exhaustion and bitterness he couldn’t begin to understand.

“As payment for being forcibly outed,” Fenton spoke up loudly enough that most of the school yard could hear him. “I was promised a week.” His eyes slowly but methodically scanned the crowd who had frozen in place at his authoritative tone. “Where I didn’t have to deal with ghosts, so I want to know... Who is trespassing on my haunt.”

Fenton’s mouth opened impossibly wide revealing what seemed like rows of sharped teeth. He curled his fingers into claws and, looking closer, his fingernails had indeed become real claws, as sharp and deadly as his teeth. His eyes blazed an impossible, ectoplasmic green and his dark hair developed streaks of white. He was terrifying, monstrous, but he was still Fenton. That feeling that had been eating at dash all day came back full force. Not the realization that Fenton had powers or whatever but that he had been hiding it in plain sight through ghost attacks and bullies and failing grades. This had always been Fenton, they just hadn’t seen. Until now that is.

And now the script had flipped and Dash didn’t know how this Ghost Fenton, who still was the same Fenton Dash had wedgied last Wednesday, fit. A green blob ghost materialized over by stairs, quivering and wailing in some ghost language. It turned and fled, presumably in the direction of the Fenton Portal to escape Fenton’s wrath. Fenton’s glowing eyes tracked it for a moment before he straightened up from his hunched posture and... was human again.

He brushed his hands through his black hair, lazily blinked blue eyes and, when he smiled, his teeth were normal. But Dash had seen, they all had. He’d let them see but to what end, he had no idea. Fenton turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow and another small smirk, just as tired as earlier.

“Sorry about that Dash, I take my vacation time very seriously. You were saying?” Fenton said with a smug lilt but his eyes were still dead and there was a bit of fear in them now. Despite his powers, he still gripped his backpack tightly.

“When your dumb little vacation’s up, Fentionail,” Dash said with a shaky voice. “It’s-it’s back to business, okay? Punches and wedgies and locker shoving. You,” he voice cracked a bit and he fought it down. “It’ll ramp up now that I know you can take it.” Fenton blinked, once then twice before he smiled. This time it wasn’t annoyed or scary or fearful but like the dumb grins he usually gave his dumb friends.

“Yeah okay, we’ll start back up next week. The usual time?” Dash nodded, not knowing what else to say. “Alright, see you around.” He turned to walk away before pausing and turning back. “Actually you should be careful on who you shove into lockers, it can get hard to breathe in there and not everyone can phase out of them. You never know who’ll turn up dead,” he grinned and his eyes flashed green again, “if only half.”

That said, he and his friends walked away, ignoring the stares of the entire school on them. “Oh and it’s halfa, not half of,” Fenton called out over his shoulder. “I’m not half of anything, I’m just a whole me even if the details get a bit complicated.”

“Bye Danny, see you tomorrow,” Kwan called after with a grimace. No one else said anything for a minute until Dash found the strength to move his legs from where they’d been planted. He clenched his fists to hide his shaking and continued his walk home. Everyone else slowly did the same, talking quietly among themselves.

“What the hell was that?” Dale asked in a nervous high pitched voice. “What the hell did I just see?”

“Fenton being a weirdo but that’s nothing new,” Dash shrugged with a confidence he didn’t have yet. But if Fenton could show up to school after being outed and then willingly show them his inhumanity, then Dash needed to up his game. Couldn’t let the nerd be cool or anything. “So what if he glows or whatever, he’s still Fenton. Look I gotta get home, it’s Pookie’s feeding time and he is NOT going to believe the day I had.

#danny phantom #*presses fingers to lips* this is not the story I intended to write #not entirely sure what I did intend but it wasnt this #it started out with danny being outed as half ghost with no other context and ended up like this #i'll clean and edit in the morning but for now #here's whatever the hell this is #I'll fix it in the mornign

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oliviayamaoka · 3 years

Text

The Distraction Continuation (Ghostface / Jed Olsen / Danny Johnson x Reader)

As requested, this is a continuation of the Distraction fic I made. Check out the first fic if you haven’t already. Enjoy! :)

You sighed deeply as you crossed your arms, shutting your eyes in slight annoyance at what was to come. Another trial. You hadn’t been in one for a while but your break was rather short-lived. There were three others that stood by your side. Ace Visconti, David King, and Yui Kimura. You respected them and actually enjoyed their company. Ace was funny, David taught you a couple of things, and Yui was always nice to you, encouraging you.

“Where do you think we’ll go this time?” Yui asked you, nudging your elbow with her own. You instantly lit up. Human interaction was comforting.

“Haven’t been to Hawkins or Glenvale in a bit.” Y/N replied with a slight shrug.

“My bet is the asylum.” Ace interrupted, pointing finger guns with that stupid smirk of his. Yui rolled her eyes, she didn’t seem to like Ace very much. Not since he flirted with her one time, even if it was jokingly.

“We might actually be there if Ace himself says so.” David said as the familiar gust of air surrounded the four of you.

You shut your eyes tightly, getting chills from the cold fog and air. The smell of fire and spring overcame you. Y/N opened their eyes, realizing that Ace’s bet was right. As always. A small laugh escaped your lips, a feeling of enjoyment before all hell could break loose again.

Your gaze averted to the familiar structure of the Crotus Prenn Asylum. A sound played in your head, the screech of the Nurse. You were always curious about her but never got the chance to even talk to her unlike... no, it was one time. You weren’t gonna go around and try talk to killers like you did with him.

You put your palm to your forehead, cringing at the memory. Not in a bad way but maybe you could’ve done something differently. No, not really. Jed was a psychopath, a murderer. He was charming in a fucked up sort of way. You sighed as you walked towards a generator behind the grey brick walls.

There wasn’t any indication that it was the Pig or Freddy, thankfully. You began to work on the generator. Your thoughts turned to the fear of being hooked, stabbed, and hurt. You shuddered at the thought of it, the feeling of the hook would probably never leave you. Death was forever here, unfortunately. Elodie and Felix’s conversation had given you hope, maybe there was a way out of here.

“Shit.” You mumble as you shielded your eyes from the small explosion.

Y/N huffed. You felt slightly disappointed in yourself and began again. Your head perked up as you heard stomping. It wasn’t loud enough to be the Oni or Trapper.

You kept a head on the generator as you noticed a dark figure stomping towards you. You needed a moment to process the situation. It was Ghostface? Oh shit, it was him, you thought. Flashbacks of your last encounter played in your head, he was definitely pissed off and you couldn’t blame it at this point.

“Don’t fucking try it.” He muttered in reference to you breaking into a sprint.

You felt panic wash over you as you quickly observed your surroundings. There weren’t any nearby pallets or vaults, it was a random open area near a hill with a chest and hook. Perfect, just perfect. Ghostface was quicker than usual, he grabbed you by the waist aggressively to tackle you down.

Ghostface held a knife to the back of your head once you hit the ground. You grunted as he put down all his weight onto you and assured that you wouldn’t be able to escape. The ground felt so uncomfortable, especially against your face. There was a few moments of you struggling beneath him to escape but it became no use. You stopped struggling after he pressed the blade against your skin.

“Didn’t bring a toolbox this time, Y/N?” He asked mockingly, pressing his gloved finger over the small slit. You winced at the stinging sensation but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

“You know how to hold a grudge, Jed.” You replied. You were utterly terrified yet you always felt the need to reply to his stupid remarks.

“Indeed I do.” He replied, grabbing you and making you stand up. He held the knife to your back and pressed it slightly.

Ghostface was actually angry. He didn’t seem to mind actually hurting you or pressing the knife into your skin. You gasped at the painful sensation as he looked around, he saw the killer shack. He held a tight grip on your shoulder as he forced you to walk that way.

You instantly knew where he wanted to go. You just hoped the basement wasn’t there. Of course, you had known that this day would eventually come. But, why now? It was such awful timing, especially with the blue mood you had. Once the two of you reached the shack, he shoved you onto the ground aggressively.

“You’re pathetic... talking and talking last time we met. Now, you’re just a shitty excuse for a survivor.” He said to you. You scoffed.

“If it helps, Jed, I’m sorry.” Y/N replied. Your hand reached to the back of your neck where he had cut you. There wasn’t much blood but it still hurt. You stared at your bloodied fingertips as the man got more infuriated.

“You don’t get to call me that. And why the fuck are you apologizing?” He questioned you. His tone was venomous, this terrified you but him killing you was inevitable and well... you wanted to see him, anyways.

“If you didn’t care, you’d have hooked me now. I must’ve really hurt your feelings, huh?” You said, half-jokingly but you were also genuine.

“I don’t care.” He replied to you almost instantly. You knew that was a lie.

“Then why won’t you hook me? You could’ve slashed my back open but instead you pinned me to the ground... weirdo.” You mumbled.

He fell silent for a second. Ghostface was a bit baffled by you. Why weren’t you begging for your life? The version he remembered of you was different, or maybe he killed too many survivors that would beg. Not only that but he planned this out thoroughly. He was practically counting on you to scream and beg for your life. Ghostface had even made an offering for this realm because he researched it extensively, as he did with most of his previous murders.

Despite what he may have thought, Y/N was absolutely terrified. However, there was a strange feeling of attraction to him. Not necessarily a crush just yet but there was also a rivalry in which you felt comfortable talking to him. He felt like a real person. Well, of course he was a real person but you had no trouble making shitty remarks to him.

“I want this to last because you were being a little bitch last time. I’ve been dying to slice you open and make you regret that stupid little stunt you pulled.” He said to you.

You sat up, bringing one knee to your chest casually. There was a feeling of bravery that washed over you like last time. Y/N sighed deeply and looked around the shack. It was a basic shake. No totem, no gen.

“Yeah, sure... then do it.” You said to him.

“You’re not making this any easier.” He replied, more annoyed with you.

“Nothing you do is gonna make me regret what I did. Even if you do kill me and make me suffer, I’m still gonna come back alive. I’ve been puked on, trapped, and even had some weird ass trap put onto my head.” You said, standing up and pointing your finger to his chest.

“But you, Danny, only have a knife. I know the Legion or whatever their names are can use that better than you. You’re just a weirdo with a mask.” Y/N finished.

Ghostface seemed rather stunned, yet offended. Mainly because he couldn’t doubt anything you said. It became known that the Legion studied the human anatomy extensively, more than Danny ever cared to do. His area of expertise was stalking and memorizing a person’s schedule. But still. his ego was always bigger than any logic. The cloaked man grabbed your wrist. He oddly didn’t grab it too tight, he lifted your arm over your head.

“And what does that make you? I’m still better than you to some degree. You’re trapped here because the Entity thinks you deserve it and I get to kill anybody I desire.” He said, the tip of his blade poking your stomach.

“I guess we’re both shitty people.” You shrugged as his grip somewhat loosened. He sighed deeply before throwing you towards the generator.

“I had hoped killing you would be satisfying.” He muttered, bitter that your reaction wasn’t what he imagined. You fixed your shirt slightly and leaned against the generator. A part of slowly began to accept the growing crush you developed on the strange murderer, you didn’t care at this point since you were damned to an eternity of trials.

“It probably would’ve been if you weren’t so easy to talk to.” You said to him as he snapped his head towards you, confused for a moment. Easy to talk to? He scoffed in response.

“Easy? You’re the fucking weirdo here.” He said, with a bit of a defeated tone.

“You’re no ladykiller, Danny, but... I’m charmed. I guess it’s something killers like you do though.” You said to him.

“I don’t charm or seduce people. I watch them.” He corrected you.

“Explains a lot.” You said, looking at your nails. Ghostface was quick to give into his ego and crossed his arms in a very stubborn manner.

“Actually, I did. As Jed Olsen, anyways. People were so trusting of him and neglected to suspect the new guy in town. It made it easy to watch people and I had a lot of excuses to spend hours doing so.” He said to you.

“Jed sounds nice.” Y/N shrugged.

“Well, Jed isn’t real, babe. He’s a shitty facade of what people like in a person. Made it so much easier for myself.” Ghostface said.

“Okay then,.. what did you do? As a career?” You asked him.

“I was a journalist and wrote for the Roseville Gazette. They made me cover my own killings and I did a good job doing so. Nobody could really understand my work though, no matter how much I tried to when I was Jed.” He said, a proud tone in his voice as he spoke. You were weirded out and cautious but you wanted to try and understand him.

“So, is that why you do it? For art?” You asked him as his head perked.

“That’s exactly why! There’s something very beautiful about the redness unique to somebody pouring out of them, even mixing with others. Not only that but just toying around and seeing how loud one can scream. Each scream is so unique and different. And just like art, you can fix your mistakes if it isn’t done right.” He explained, he seemed more relaxed.

“Fix? But wouldn’t they be dead?” You asked him, genuinely confused.

“You have to be an expert craftsman to fix it. A scream is a delicacy, something I choose not to indulge myself in often. Y’know, don’t want anybody hearing what goes on. When I do want to hear the screaming, it’s usually when my target has piqued my interest or mildly annoyed me. It feels rewarding after going through all the effort to memorize their lifestyle.” He said.

“A weird but cool way of looking at it, I suppose.” Y/N said.

You didn’t really care about morality at this point. Such things as the Entity exist, anyways, You weren’t sure what you did to deserve being stranded here. Even if you did have a weird romantic interest in him, so what? Why would the Entity care? Why would any Gods care? And even then, you seemed to have an interest in his hobby. Blood and killing didn’t faze you anymore.

“You think so?” He asked you.

“Depends on the person, I guess. I’d only do it to bad people.” You said.

“But, you’d do what I do?” He asked you.

“Yeah...?” You responded. Danny seemed a bit giddy.

“How would you do it?” Ghostface asked, he seemed way too excited to hear about your non-existent methods of killing.

“I don’t know...” Y/N replied, feeling somewhat flustered by how close he was to you. It was a different type of feeling when he wasn’t trying to stab you.

“If you want, I could show you some pictures and give you tips.” He said.

“And kill who? We’re stuck in this hellhole.” You reminded him.

“What about the other survivors? They can’t all be innocent.” Ghostface said to you. He had some appreciation for you since you listened. It was crazy how much this strange man can switch up.

“No, never. I’m not that crazy.” You said as the loud horn of the exit gates blared. You looked around, really surprised. He seemed just as surprised.

“That long?” He questioned.

“Guess I’m just that good of a distraction.” You said to him as he silently sighed in frustration but didn’t seem to care. A part of him enjoyed your talk.

“Guess you’re gonna be my one kill.” He said, shifting towards you and pushing you against the wall. You were taken aback by his swift movement.

You squirmed against his body, somewhat sliding downwards so kicking was pretty much useless unless you wanted to completely fall. The two of you grunted quietly as he turned you around, shoving your face against the hard wall. It was uncomfortable but he wasn’t being as rough as he usually was. At this point, you were scared of his knife so you tried pulling his hands away from you in the awkward position. Ghostface tightly pinned one of your arms on your back, you winced as he tugged on your hair.

He leaned inwards, poking his head towards your neck and hair. Ghostface took a moment to memorize your scent and what your hair texture might have felt like. For some strange reason, he seemed to want to learn everything about you. It might have been a bad idea for you to have opened him up about his art.

“Get off of me.” You demanded in a stern voice.

“You’re scaring me, Y/N.” He replied sarcastically.

You froze up when he slid his hand under your shirt, his fingertips trailing on your back. It wasn’t the motion itself but rather the feeling of his ungloved hand. You felt yourself go into a rather catatonic state, not in fear but you were quick to wonder why he would take his glove off. A thousand thoughts and scenarios played in your mind. His touch was soft but still managed to leave you with chills.

Ghostface, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself. He made notes of how soft your skin felt, his hand curiously wandered upwards. It wasn’t long before his hand wandered to your more sensitive areas. A gasp escaped your mouth as kept you pinned with his knees, his hands groping you a bit more roughly. Your face heated up when he squeezed you, you didn’t seem to struggle either.

“Fuck...” You whispered.

“If only we had the time.” He mumbled, sticking three of his gloved fingers into your mouth. Your eyes rested as you stared upwards, allowing him to continue touching you.

“I bet you’re getting all excited over this... if only I could capture the look on your face right now. How does it feel? Having somebody like me have their way?” He asked you. You felt aroused yet ashamed to oblige him.

“It feels good...” You managed to say, his fingers still in your mouth.

You felt the bulge in his crotch grow hard but this wasn’t the time or place. As much as he wanted to fuck you then and there, he needed to have some control over himself. He pulled his hands away and slid his glove back on. You let out a sigh of relief but also a whine. You knew just as much as he did that it just wasn’t the right time. You wiped the saliva from your lips and slowly stood up.

He pulled you backwards by your waist. You felt him rub his knife near your crotch, gliding it teasingly. His other hand wrapped around your neck. You heard him chuckle rather darkly. At this point, you seemed more hot and bothered than he was. Ghostface squeezed your neck a little harder, wanting to get one last sound of of you before he let you go. He didn’t care whether or not the Entity would be displeased or not.

“Guess you’ll have to be a whore some other time.” He said, cutting you on the arm slightly. You pulled your arm away quickly.

“Whatever.” You replied, flustered by his comment. Did that just happen?

“Better go before the Entity kills you itself.” He said to you.

“Right, right... see you around, Danny.” You said before quickly walking away and then running towards the exit gates.

His head tilted curiously. Ghostface wasn’t sure if he had feelings or not. He admired you for listening to him and asking some questions though. But, now that he knew you’d do things with him willingly, he had some ideas. A wide smile grew behind his mask as he began to fantasize about the photos he would eventually take.

You would probably come to regret your actions, seeing as his obsession with you would grow. Danny needed to know everything about you and even felt a bit possessive now. It didn’t matter, there was many possibilities within the Fog. Pray that you’ll be ready for your next meeting.

NOTE: Currently writing a full fledged Danny fic with a different plot but have the sequel to the Distraction. Ty for reading!

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #jed olsen #jed olsen x reader #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #dbd fanfic #dbd x reader

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luxurylives · 2 years

Text

The Dinner Guest

Pairing: FMC x Bryce Lahela

Book(s): Open Heart

Word Count: 4,523

Rating: T

Category: Angst, Smut

Summary: Bryce wants to bond with Henry’s twin brother, Joel so he plans a small dinner with Casey’s help.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs and suicide. There is some mild smut at the end.

Author’s Note: I wrote this for Day 11, Dark for the Choices March Challenge. This is a continuation of the fanfic I wrote previously where the friend group gathered to pay their respects to Danny. I probably went overboard with all the mentions of other choices books, but I can’t help it! Thank you to those who read! Pixelberry Studios owns the characters.

Tagging: @mfackenthal @choicesmonthlychallenge @brightpinkpeppercorn @openheartfanfics @silverofdreams @choicesficwriterscreations

Keiki applied red nail polish to her fingernails with casual, easy strokes as she watched her older brother. The chicken parmesan he was frantically scraping into the trash was burnt to the point of looking more like a charcoal-encrusted brick than any sort of edible food. Worse still, she could hear the ruckus from the couch she was lounging on, and it was ruining The HITS Countdown.

“Keep it down over there! I can’t hear anything over the sound of your awful cooking,” she complained as she carefully blew on her still-wet polish. “Also, I told you to wait until Casey got here, didn’t I?”

Bryce rolled his eyes with a scoff before he continued scraping the mess of chicken, sauce, and noodles into the trash. “Keiks, don’t you have anything better to do than sit there and make fun of my cooking? What happened to meeting your friends?”

Keiki snorted out a laugh as she checked her phone, then swung her legs off the couch and got to her feet. “Yep, Luna just texted me that she’s pulling up outside. Good luck with… whatever it is you’re planning tonight.” She eyed the trash and shuddered. “You’re gonna need it.”

Bryce sighed and ran a hand through his hair, scowling down at the trash. Keiki was right. Meeting Joel a few weeks ago had been like coming face to face with a ghost, and he hadn’t stopped asking the same hundred questions over and over in his mind ever since. Why hadn’t Henry ever mentioned having a twin brother? How were they separated? When? Why?

He paused and ran his hands over his face, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Pull yourself together. You’re Bryce Lahela, best in surgical, you’re confident and self-assured and amazing at everything you do,” he murmured to himself, even if he felt more nervous and confused than anything.

Bryce looked up as he heard a knock at the door. “Looks like she’s here,” Keiki called out, grabbing her things before heading to the front door and opening it. “He’s all yours, Casey. Good luck. See you later, Bryce!”

Casey entered the apartment as Keiki flounced off, and Bryce gladly ditched the cookbook to pull Casey into a tight hug. “God, you have no idea how happy I am to see you right now,” he muttered.

Casey smiled and hugged him back, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m happy to see you too, but… what’s wrong? You’re frazzled.”

Bryce pulled away and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I… may or may not have had some trouble with the chicken parmesan recipe.”

Casey shook her head as she entered the kitchen, taking in the charred chicken in the garbage, the open tomato sauce jars on the counter, the dirty pans and plates dumped haphazardly in the sink. “Bryce… you do realize that Joel’s on his way?”

A troubled sigh escaped Bryce’s lips as he met Casey’s eyes. She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side – Bryce was sort of cute like this, a far cry from the “big man on campus” persona he put on with his fellow scalpel jockeys at Edenbrook.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Bryce narrowed his eyes at her.

Casey giggled and sauntered towards him. “Maybe a little.” She closed the space between them with a soft kiss that slowly intensified. Casey came to her senses as Bryce backed her up against the counter and her hand brushed against one of the jars of sauce. “As much as I’d like to keep going… we have a guest on the way and dinner to salvage. Now’s not the time.”

Bryce reluctantly took a step back and shook his head. “You’re right… but what do we do? Order takeout? That’ll take...” he glanced at his watch. “…probably thirty to forty minutes, tops.”

Casey tapped the counter, considering their options, before rushing over to the fridge, pulling it open, and sifting through the contents.

“Any ideas?” Bryce asked.

Casey took out some cheese slices, tomatoes, and avocadoes and placed them on the counter. “Do you have any bread?” She asked, looking around the kitchen and grabbing a knife and a chopping board.

Bryce nodded and opened the pantry, quickly catching on. “Are you thinking sandwiches?”

Casey glanced at the clock on the wall and rolled up her sleeves. “Yeah. We’ll make grilled cheese sandwiches and heat up some tomato soup. It’s simple, but we can’t be too choosey with so little time. Do you have any croutons?”

Bryce grabbed some bread and a packet of croutons from the pantry before tossing them onto the counter. “You’re a lifesaver.” He cupped her cheeks with his hands as he smiled.

Casey planted a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away and starting to slice the tomatoes. “Focus up, Lahela, time’s ticking and we have to fix this mess.”

“Yes, Dr. Valentine,” Bryce shot back with a mock salute before grabbing a fresh pot and putting it on the stove.

Casey shot a flirtatious smile his way as she opened the soup and dumped it into the pot, turning up the heat before returning to sandwich prep. Bryce returned the gesture with a wink as he popped slices of bread into the toaster, then took a minute to turn up the TV.

“I didn’t think The HITS Countdown was in your wheelhouse,” Casey remarked, eyebrows raised.

Bryce laughed as he returned to the kitchen and got to work scrubbing at the dirty pans. “Keiki loves it and got me into it. I started streaming Lil Baby and Ether thanks to her.”

The pair soon found a steady rhythm, preparing dinner and cleaning up in tandem while catchy rap and pop tunes filled the apartment. With both working together, they soon had a platter of sandwiches, hot bowls of soup, and a spotless kitchen to show for their efforts.

“Y’know what they say! teamwork makes the dream work.” Casey took a dishtowel and playfully whipped it at Bryce’s ass. “By the way, have I told you that you look great? Those jeans are struggling to keep your ass in check,” she said, exaggeratedly wriggling her eyebrows.

Bryce gave her a wolfish grin and pulled Casey flush against him. “You and I are definitely going to get into something later.”

Casey shivered at the tone of his voice and leaned in to kiss him. “Sounds perfect.”

Just as their lips were about to meet, there was a knock at the door. Casey glanced at the clock and pulled away from him with a pout. “Let’s save the fun for later. I’ll set the table.”

Bryce nodded, reaching back to untie his apron strings before pulling it off and tossing it onto the counter. He made a beeline for the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob to take a deep breath. He then opened it to see Joel standing on the other side with a bottle of wine.

“I, uh… hope I’m not too late. Picked up some wine from the store,” Joel awkwardly lifted the bottle as though to prove his point, clearing his throat.

“Not at all, you’re right on time. It’s… good to see you,” Bryce said. Apprehensive silence hung heavy between them. Bryce struggled to think of what to do next, and Joel’s unreadable expression wasn’t helping.

Casey set the utensils next to the plates she’d already put down, glancing over at the doorway when she noticed the silence and immediately recognizing the tension in Bryce’s posture. Without hesitation, she quickly intervened, wiping her hands on her jeans as she strode towards the door. “Joel! It’s great to see you again. Welcome, welcome, please come in!” She gently nudged Bryce with her hip, and he thankfully took the hint, stepping to the side to let Joel come in.

“Thank you, Casey. You look wonderful tonight.” Joe replied.

Casey took Bryce’s hand and squeezed it when she heard him take a sharp inhale of breath and stiffen next to her. “I hope you like white wine,” Joel continued as he crossed the threshold and lingered, shifting his weight from foot to foot while Bryce shut the door.

“I do! Please, have a seat at the table. We’ll be eating shortly,” Casey gestured towards the table.

Joel gave her a polite nod as he walked towards the table. Bryce leaned over as he and Casey followed Joel, whispering in her ear, “Is it obvious that I’m nervous?”

Casey stopped walking and turned to face Bryce, cupping his cheeks, and rubbing her thumb in comforting circles on his cheekbone. “A little. Just relax, he seems nice! This will give you two a chance to get to know each other,” she whispered.

Bryce bit his lip and made his way to the cupboard to grab some wine glasses. “I know, I know, but… do you think he…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

“Bryce, what is it? You know you can tell me anything.” Casey placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Bryce opened his mouth to reply but froze once he saw Joel giving them a look from the other side of the room. Casey turned and smiled brightly at their guest. Joel had probably heard bits and pieces of their conversation, or maybe he had a hunch something was up.

Casey squeezed Bryce’s shoulder, giving him a meaningful look that said we’re going to talk about this later. She pulled Bryce towards the table and helped him set the wine glasses down, gesturing towards the platter of sandwiches as Bryce silently poured the wine. “Help yourself, Joel, and there’s more soup on the stove if you’d like seconds.”

Joel nodded with a quiet “Thank you,” before reaching out to grab a sandwich as Bryce and Casey got seated. They all dug in, eating in silence save for the occasional soft tings of silverware against porcelain.

Casey swallowed a mouthful of soup before breaking the silence. “So! How do you like the food, Joel? I hope everything tastes alright?”

“Well, everything’s pretty good, thank you.” Joel sipped his wine as he looked between Bryce and Casey. “Who made the food?”

“Not to brag, but I do know my way around the kitchen! Bryce, on the other hand… well, that’s another story.” Casey said with a laugh as she tried to lift the mood, playfully nudging Bryce who gave a weak smile. She knew him well enough to see he was still unsettled. “He still pulled his weight when getting ready, of course, just in other ways. The point is, Bryce contributed just as much to put this all together. He had all the ingredients, helped cleaned up everything we used to cook… You know. A great assistant, all in all!”

Joel chuckled and shook his head. “I can relate to that. I was just the same, couldn’t be left alone in the kitchen because something would go wrong! Until I took some classes. Henry inspired me to give it a shot – last time we spoke, he kept going on and on about wanting to take some classes and maybe get on a cooking show… even if he never got around to it.”

Casey glanced at Bryce from the corner of her eye, watching him stare at the sandwich in his hands with his lips pressed together, mechanically chewing a bite of his grilled cheese. She patted his leg under the table to get his attention before asking encouragingly, “Bryce, did you know Henry wanted to take cooking classes?”

Bryce finally swallowed his bite of grilled cheese and looked up at Joel, hyper-aware of the sweat trailing down his neck and yet feeling numb at the same time. As satisfyingly tasty as the food was, he could barely taste it, staring right at the spitting image of Henry as he was. However, he put on a brave face for Casey. “Once or twice… he liked that one food show, what was it again? …Oh, right, Everett Flynt: Taste of the World. He would go on and on about what Flynt cooked, how cool the guy was, and how much he wanted to try every dish on the show.”

Joel smiled fondly, his eyes growing distant. “That sounds just like him, rambling about whatever had caught his interest at the time.”

Bryce rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Don’t even get me started. First, it was skydiving before the cooking. He wouldn’t shut up about wanting to try after I told him I was basically a pro. We never managed to go together, and then, next thing I knew, he did a one-eighty and went from skydiving to rambling about some Flynt guy and his TV show!”

Joel and Bryce both chuckled before Joel added on. “He wanted to watch it live so bad, so I wanted to surprise him. Bought two tickets for me and him to go to the taping of the season finale in Paris, before… before he passed,” Joel frowned and looked down as reality pulled him out of fond memories, clenching his spoon tightly.

A brief silence swept through the room as both men mourned until Joel spoke up. “I guess…Henry had a lot of interests, huh?” He said finally, his voice tentative, though he looked back at Bryce with a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Casey looked between them and smiled as she ate her soup, watching Bryce grab the offered olive branch and nod with a laugh. It was a start. A good one.

Bryce stopped laughing and smiled. “Definitely. Always one thing or another, right? Some things he never stopped liking, though. Video games, baseball – he was a huge fan of the Nighthawks and the Marauders, and he was really into The Secret of Ninradell and Most Wanted.”

Joel smiled and took a sip of his wine. “I can already tell we would have gotten along just fine.” His eyes darted from Bryce to Casey, and he blushed in embarrassment. “Sorry, here we were going on and on about Henry and leaving you out of it. What about you, Casey? Have you seen either of those shows?” Joel took a bite of his grilled cheese.

Casey delicately wiped her mouth and set her napkin down. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to hear your stories about him! But to answer your question, yeah, I saw The Secret of Ninradell and it was pretty good. Not to mention that I’ve seen pretty much every episode of Most Wanted and Everett Flynt: Taste of the World.”

Joel’s eyes lit up as he finished off his sandwich. “Did you see the Flynt episode that was filmed in Santorini?”

Casey groaned and shook her head. “Ugh, no, I didn’t manage to catch it, but I read about it in TV Remote. Last June, a few cast members from America’s Most Eligible had a small reunion there. It’s a beautiful place, I’d love to go sometime!”

Bryce awkwardly looked between Casey and Joel as they animatedly discussed the show and beamed at each other.

Joel shook his head, fully aware of what Casey was talking about. “I couldn’t agree more! Bianca Sandoval’s photoshoot in Greece was stunning, and she celebrated her birthday with the cast at the restaurant featured in that episode. The food looked so good it had me craving fava for days! Makes me want to plan a trip for two, spend a day on the beach, sightsee, candlelit dinner, nothing more romantic.”

Bryce sipped his wine and attempted to cut in. “Isn’t America’s Most Eligible the show that the surfer was on?”

Casey laughed as she patted his knee. “You mean Slater Dominguez? I’ll have to catch you up later. And Joel, if you bring someone there, they would be one of the luckiest people in the world, for sure!”

Bryce gave Casey a small smile which faded as he noticed Joel eyeing her a certain way, the same way he had seen Rafael and Dr. Ramsey look at her from time to time, with eyes full of warmth, admiration, and something else that had Bryce feeling sick to his stomach. Dread sat heavy in his gut and left him feeling unsettled, especially since he didn’t know Joel well. He cleared his throat and used the brief silence to steer the conversation. “So, Joel, do you live in Boston?”

Joel took a sip of his wine and set the glass down. “No, I live in Northbridge, but my friend does.”

Casey’s excited grin faltered as she glanced between Bryce and Joel, sensing the building camaraderie from before was now gone. But why?

Bryce crossed his arms and pressed his lips together in a slight frown. “You know, I knew Henry pretty well. I’m pretty sure he would have told me if he had a brother.”

Casey’s eyes grew wide as she stared at Bryce, taken aback by his accusatory tone. She gently placed her hand on his knee. “Bryce…”

Joel’s eyes widened. “Was it something I said?”

Bryce narrowed his eyes at Joel and his frown turned to a scowl. “I just find the timing of your arrival a little… interesting, is all. It was certainly very convenient for you to show up out of the blue like you did.”

Casey tried to interject but Joel spoke first. “Look, I understand why you are concerned—”

Bryce shook his head and slammed his hands on the table. “No, you don’t understand!”

“Bryce!” Casey immediately cut in to try and calm the situation, shaking her head slightly as Bryce looked at her. “Guys, please, relax.”

“Can… Can I say something?” Joel asked hesitantly.

Casey gave him an apologetic look and reached for Bryce’s hand before he could start speaking. “Bryce, let him talk.”

Bryce pressed his lips together before sighing heavily, squeezing Casey’s hand in silent acceptance.

Joel took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. “Our mother gave us up when we were only seventeen months years old.”

Bryce was about to speak but closed his mouth, he could feel Casey giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Joel continued. “Our father had never been in the picture. Maybe he wanted to be, but we never knew, seeing as he offed himself.” He paused as Casey gasped and Bryce winced. “My adoptive parents told me that he got in with the wrong type of people. The sketchy, dangerous type. And our mother… just the same. Involved with some shady business. She was found on the bathroom floor of a motel room. Barely conscious, high off cocaine, paranoid, saying she felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest…” Joel shook his head. “The overdose killed her soon after. Her heart couldn’t take it.”

He paused to inhale deeply before speaking again. “We didn’t have many close relatives either, so we ended up in foster care. Got separated and we were adopted by different families. I grew up in Wilmington and, as far as I know, Henry grew up in Boston.”

“Oh, Joel… I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. How did you find out about him?” Casey asked, her eyes filled with sympathy

“A few summers ago, my adoptive parents arranged this family trip to Turtle Bay. One night, I overheard them talking about Henry. Naturally, I was curious since it wasn’t the first time he had come up. My dad has a friend who is a surgeon at Northbridge Memorial—"

Bryce unintentionally cut him off. “That is where Henry was treated before he came to Edenbrook.”

Joel nodded. “My parents told me that he was there for a while after one of his first surgeries. Then he went to Edenbrook for further treatment.”

Bryce stirred his soup, thinking back to when he first met Henry. He had just moved to Boston after graduating from Stanford. Dr. Aaron Tanaka introduced them, and they immediately hit it off. Over the following weeks, he would visit Henry to check on him, and eventually, they ended up going to escape rooms and turning it into a tradition. Every few months they would take one on together, and afterward, they would grab milkshakes and walk along the waterfront, talking the day away.

“Once I found out Henry was in Boston, I spoke with his adoptive mother. She told me about you and the impact that you had on his life. Henry and I only got to speak to each other on the phone twice. Listen, man, I know me showing up like this isn’t ideal or easy, but… I can tell that you and my brother were great friends.” Joel sighed and shook his head. “I just wish I had the opportunity to spend more time with him, and… it really means a lot that you were there for him when I couldn’t be.”

Bryce nodded. “Henry was a good friend. I’d do anything for him.” He met Joel’s eyes before reaching across the table, offering his hand. Joel’s eyes lit up and his expression crumpled in relief.

They shook hands and smiled at each other, the tension was between them now dissolved and replaced with trust. Casey looked between them grinning from ear to ear. “Talk about a picture-perfect moment,” she quipped.

Both chuckled at Casey’s comment and resumed eating as light and cheery conversation carried them well into the night.

Once dinner had finished, Bryce and Casey got to know Joel better. Both of his parents were real estate agents and lawyers in Wilmington, North Carolina, and he had two sisters. One sister was living in New York and had just started a modeling career, the other was finishing up her senior year at Langston College. Joel had graduated from the same school and moved to Northbridge afterward with his college roommate. Now, he worked at the Cedarport Aquarium as a Senior Aquarist and was considering attending veterinary school.

Eventually, it got late into the night and the evening had to come to an end. “I should get going, I have to drive back to Northbridge in the morning. Casey, I have to say, you’re one hell of a cook.”

Casey felt her cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you, you’re too kind. It was great getting to know you.”

“Likewise,” Joel reached over and shook her hand.

“I’ll walk you out,” Bryce said.

Bryce and Joel rose from their seats and headed towards the door, while Casey cleared the table. As they got closer, Bryce clapped Joel on the shoulder. “Look man, sorry I was rude to you earlier.”

Joel shrugged it off and smiled. “It’s all good, I get it. You lost a friend and it’s been tough; we’ve all been there.”

“Maybe you could hang out with us at Donahue’s one evening? I’m sure my friends would like to meet you,” Bryce said. Deep down he was hoping Joel would say yes.

“Sure, next time I’m in Boston, let’s do it!” Joel replied with a grin. “And you could show me this escape room that my brother was so crazy about.”

Bryce laughed and eagerly nodded. “Hell yeah!”

After exchanging numbers, they gave each other a fist bump and Joel exited the apartment. Once he disappeared down the hall, Bryce closed the door and walked into the kitchen to see Casey clearing the table.

“Casey, you didn’t have to—”

She waved it off and shrugged. “You and Joel needed that moment. So… how do you feel?” she asked as she set the last dish in the sink and turned on the tap.

Bryce rolled up his sleeves and joined her at the sink. “Honestly…I feel good. I invited him to come to Donahue’s so he could meet everyone.”

Casey nodded and squirted some dish soap into the water starting to fill the sink. “That was nice of you. Did he say yes?”

“Yeah, he said next time he’s in town he’ll join us.” Bryce couldn’t contain his smile as he started on the dishes and Casey began drying them.

“I did want to ask about earlier... things got tense with Joel at the table and when he first got here,” Casey said. “What was that about?”

Bryce bit his lip, remembering the little spat with Joel earlier and how uneasy he felt when he arrived. He overreacted at the table, Casey was just naturally friendly, she wouldn’t… no, they were just talking. The situation reminded him that he needed to have the talk with Casey again. The night of the farewell party, they spoke, but Casey told him she wasn’t ready for commitment—yet. “Honestly, I don’t know what came over me. I guess I thought he had an ulterior motive or something, obviously, that isn’t the case.”

Casey shook her head and continued drying the dishes. She had a hunch as to what caused Bryce to act the way he did earlier, but she brushed it off. She wasn’t ready for that conversation right now. “Well anyway, I’m happy for you.” She gave him a small smile as she dried off one of the plates and set it in the drying rack. “Joel seems nice, so I have no doubt that you two will get along just fine.”

“I’m just glad I had you here,” Bryce said.

They gave each other an affectionate look, in that moment reflecting on everything they had been through together. Casey felt her cheeks burn, there was the time Bryce comforted her in the supply closet, how he sat at her bedside after the attack, the dozens of times she had seen him in passing in the halls at Edenbrook, and how they sat stargazing the night of the goodbye party. “Well, you’re stuck with me.”

Bryce washed the last dish and passed it off to Casey who dried it off and placed it in the cabinet. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he answered and closed the space between them.

Casey grinned as Bryce urgently pulled her towards him and planted a gentle kiss onto her lips. Casey responded wrapping her arms around him. The kiss deepened and their hands eagerly explored each other’s bodies. Bryce lifted her up and Casey instantly wrapped her legs around his waist. As Bryce navigated towards his bedroom, Casey parted her lips inviting his tongue into her mouth with a moan, and he gladly accepted the invitation to deepen the kiss further. Once they reached the bed, he gently laid her down and hovered over her.

Casey gazed into his eyes as Bryce leaned in and kissed her again before pulling off his shirt. Soon, their clothes were coming off in frenzy and they were both bare before each other, admiring one another’s bodies with teasing touches and kisses. As she laid beneath him, the air between them electrified with their desire for one another, Casey finally stretched her arms over her head while Bryce positioned himself at her entrance and slowly entered her. Casey moaned as he filled her. Bryce tossed his head back, eyes closed and soon they moved with each other well into the night.

#open heart #open heart: second year #open heart: third year #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #choices monthly challenge #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

Star, May 3

You can buy a brand new copy of this issue without the mailing label for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Shiloh Jolie-Pitt

Page 1: Christina Aguilera at 40 -- she talks about child stardom, learning to love her body, and what she wants her daughter Summer to know

Page 2: Contents, Renee Zellweger, Phoebe Dynevor and James McAvoy at the BAFTAs in London

Page 3: Mariska Hargitay and Law & Order: SVU co-star Ice-T take a selfie during a break from shooting the cop drama in NYC, Heather Graham at the beach in Mexico, stepping into the America's Got Talent studio Sofia Vergara elevated her casual cropped jeans with strappy platform sandals in L.A., Jason Momoa cutting a rug with an unidentified partner ahead of filming a scene for his upcoming fantasy film Slumberland in Toronto

Page 4: Colton Underwood comes out -- saying he's the happiest and healthiest he's ever been, the former Bachelor clarifies his orientation

Page 5: Lena Dunham is no stranger to controversy, so it comes as no surprise that her foray into fashion design has also come under fire as she partnered with a plus-size label to create the capsule collection 11 Honore x Lena Dunham, but the kicky line quickly came under fire as critics are calling it tone-deaf, mediocre and not inclusive at all since its largest size is a 26 and some are even going so far to call Lena a grifter who gained weight in order to make money off the plus-size community but Lena, who underwent a hysterectomy at 31, has pointed to early menopause as the cause of her straight-up gut -- while Lena refuses to be intimidated by bullies, she is listening to the complaints about sizes and is planning to address it

* Once a cautionary tale of the perils of child stardom, at age 40 Macaulay Culkin is a father himself as he and girlfriend Brenda Song welcomed a son, Dakota -- he's finally overcome his demons and Brenda has been a huge influence on his life and helped him get back on the straight and narrow and he's even pursuing acting again, shooting season 10 of American Horror Story; his life has taken such a positive turn

* A year after announcing her split from Jay Cutler, Kristin Cavallari is seeing the upside of divorce, saying it's made her a better mom in some ways because she has her kids half the time now so when she has them for her week, she is so incredibly present with her kids Camden, Jaxon and Saylor and she is not distracted by her phone or anything else; she is with them -- Jay and Kristin each have the kids 182.5 days a year and court papers also revealed that her ex is allowed two phone calls and two FaceTime or Skype calls a week and vice versa so now every moment is precious and if someone is having a temper tantrum or something, she remains calm because she knows that she is losing them in a few days

Page 6: Gwen Stefani is widely thought to have had some help in the nips and tucks department, and as her wedding to Blake Shelton approaches, he is starting to object to her constant tweaking of her face -- she's always messing with it by getting more fillers and Botox and Blake is afraid of what he'll see at the altar and he's freaking out at Gwen's increasingly extreme beauty routine which is becoming increasingly over-the-top; Gwen can barely move her face to smile at him anymore and it looks weird -- while he frets, he's trying to reassure his wife-to-be because Blake thinks she's beautiful just the way she is

* As an executive producer on the long-running Law & Order: SVU, Mariska Hargitay has tasked the writers to come up with more storylines featuring one of her favorite characters: defense attorney Trevor Langan, played by none other than her husband Peter Hermann -- Mariska and Peter originally met and fell in love when Peter guest-starred on the show and she loves to keep that magic alive by bringing him back to play Trevor but the trouble is he is busy with his own gigs as a series regular on Younger and his recurring role on Blue Bloods and Peter loves working with his wife, but he has his own acting career apart from Mariska -- still, he may soon have his day in court because Peter understands how Mariska feels and is trying to work his schedule to allow him some guest spots in the near future

Page 8: Star Shots -- Lenny Kravitz with a guitar flaunted his well-sculpted midsection during a stroll on the beach, Suki Waterhouse with her on-the-go grub on the set in Liverpool

Page 9: Louisa Jacobson and Taissa Farmiga and Denee Benton on the set of The Gilded Age in NYC, Conan O'Brien sipped on a soda at lunch in L.A., Katy Perry in the American Idol bathroom

Page 10: Kate Hudson with mom Goldie Hawn and kids Ryder and Rani, Kate Hudson twirled solo modeling in a pal's swimwear collection, Jude Law's daughter Iris Law who will make her acting debut in Danny Boyle's upcoming Sex Pistols biopic makes a call in London

Page 12: Kelly Osbourne handed out items at a food distribution event as the Islamic Center for Southern California, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson in the gym, despite a no-social warning a cheeky Nicole Kidman shared a pic from the set of Aaron Sorkin's Being the Ricardos in which she portrays Lucille Ball

Page 13: Anabella Sciorra and Donnie Wahlberg gloved up for a Blue Bloods scene in NYC, Heidi Klum and husband Tom Kaulitz started their morning during a walk on the beach in L.A.

Page 14: Travis Barker showed off his body art stepping off a Hollywood tour bus shirtless after filming a music video, a cheerful Britney Spears gave a fun look into her wardrobe in a pink floral frock, Scott Disick and Amelia Hamlin color-coordinated for a walk near the beach in Miami

Page 16: Lamar Odom and Aaron Carter put up their dukes to promote their Celebrity Boxing Match in Philadelphia, Priyanka Chopra Jonas and husband Nick Jonas at the BAFTAs in London, Ellen DeGeneres on the phone during a stroll in her main hood of Montecito

Page 18: Normal or Not? A denim-on-denim clad Jay Leno scratched an itch while filming a project in Los Angeles -- not normal, dressed in a Siggi sweatshirt Katie Holmes picked up some seasonal blooms on Manhattan's Upper East Side -- normal, Kate Beckinsale multitasked during a car ride by applying undereye patches -- not normal

Page 19: Gavin Rossdale appeared to be pleased with his Kitson purchase by doing a little dance after leaving the popular L.A. store -- not normal

Page 20: Fashion -- stars wow in statement-making capes -- Gisele Bundchen, Charlize Theron, Zoey Deutch

Page 21: Greta Gerwig, Elle Fanning

Page 24: Justin Bieber: How Love Saved Me -- the formerly troubled pop singer gives praise for wife Hailey Bieber

Page 25: Olivia Wilde and Harry Styles' romance has already cooled and the pair are giving each other space -- turns out Olivia and Harry don't actually have much in common -- the two jetted to London after wrapping Don't Worry Darling, but they were soon waylaid by their respective responsibilities as Olivia has been spending time with her kids Otis and Daisy while her ex Jason Sudeikis shoots Ted Lasso while Harry, who was spooked by how quickly intense things got, is gearing up for his role in My Policeman -- for now, the two have decided to reassess things when they're back in L.A., which leaves the window open for Jason, whose strategy was to let her and Harry fizzle out, then see where she is at, and it's going according to plan

* Jennifer Lopez calls off her relationship with Alex Rodriguez

* Carrie Underwood and Mike Fisher are better than ever after overcoming a rough patch, one that had their inner circle convinced they were headed for divorce -- Mike had a serious roving eye that made Carrie anxious and she would treat him like he was Mr. Underwood and tensions between the two were at an all-time high when the pandemic hit, forcing the two into extra one-on-one time, but as it turns out, their new routine is just what they needed because they set boundaries, divided up tasks and put time aside for fun things and they prioritized romance, which has made all the difference -- Carrie and Mike are re-committed to their marriage and they've been through so much so much and neither wants to throw it away

Page 26: Cover Story -- Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's model kid -- Shiloh Jolie-Pitt the gorgeous teen is ready for her close up, but Brad and Angie are at odds about Shiloh's new passion -- Shiloh's been experimenting with girlier styles lately, including growing out her hair and she's at the age where she's starting to change things up -- Brad isn't thrilled about Shiloh's modeling dreams and idea of her walking into the lion's den gives him cause for concern -- Angelina began modeling at 16, just one year older than Shiloh and Shiloh knows that's what set her mom on her path to fame and Shiloh is constantly asking Angie about the pros and cons of the modeling world

Page 29: Model Kids -- these celeb offspring also know how to strike a pose -- Hailey Bieber, Sofia Richie, Amelia Hamlin, Lily-Rose Depp, Brooklyn Beckham, Paris Jackson, Kendall Jenner, Corinne Foxx, Ireland Baldwin, Margaret Qualley, Kaia Gerber, Leni Klum, Patrick Schwarzenegger

Page 30: Prince William and Prince Harry: Behind Closed Doors -- the estranged princes are forced to reckon with their rift as the royal family gathers for Prince Philip's funeral

Page 32: High Anxiety -- it's not so simple for celebs who struggle with panic attacks -- Emma Stone, Stephen Colbert, Amanda Seyfried

Page 33: Hugh Grant, Ryan Reynolds, Ariana Grande

Page 36: Beauty -- nail it -- self-care essentials to score the perfect at-home manicure and pedicure -- Kaley Cuoco

Page 38: Style -- cute cases -- step up your tech, and fashion, game this season with a trendy cellphone cover -- Rosie Huntington-Whiteley

Page 40: Entertainment

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Corey Feldman embraced wife Courtney Anne Mitchell as the two ventured out for a romantic outing in L.A.

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datawyrms · 4 years

Text

Electric Influence

Danymay2020 day 10- Corruption

It was easier to ignore the fact Danny should not have walked out of that portal alive. Tucker ignored any ‘shock’ his friend must have gotten would have been lethal. Sam pretended the scorching stench of flesh burning was only the ectoplasm of the portal. She didn’t kill one of her best friends on a dare.

He’d fallen out of there, after all. Cold, glowing and terrified once he had seen himself, but it was fine! He just. Stopped being that way. He breathed, his heart raced and his grip was warm when they hugged, so tightly as if they let go they’d be separated forever.

Did it have to make sense that Danny was somehow a ghost while also being human? So their friend had ‘ghost powers’. Powers that he struggled with, but they were there to help and support him. What kind of friends would they be if they didn’t?

Sam and Tucker didn’t seem to hear the low constant buzz that felt like it was trying to rip out from under his skin. They didn’t jerk away from him, or hesitate in helping as he started falling through the floor, even though at those times it was louder, more like something clawing at his ears and demanding his attention. He didn’t want to worry them, so he didn’t mention the noise. It did make it hard to concentrate. Tucker did manage to help him without knowing about the problem, though it had been a bit of a joke.

“I swear I’m not trying to fall through every floor in the school!”

“They’re your powers dude. Maybe try thinking loud thoughts?”

Loud thoughts had actually helped. If he tried screaming in his head, louder than that irritating low hum, his powers actually seemed to respond. They still went off basically at complete random, but he could at least stop the falling or the vanishing once he noticed it. It was awkward, but he’d take anything at this point. Tucker and Sam had convinced him that letting Mom and Dad know wouldn’t be good. They might think he was dead, or something like that. With how much they seemed to focus on ghosts, he really didn’t want to be their new ‘special interest.’

They weren't sure how to react when Danny became that inverted self again. The dead-no he wasn’t dead. His ‘ghost form’. He seemed proud that he had enough control to do so intentionally, so they smiled and congratulated with a few jabs about practicing not vanishing as often. They ignored the hissing voice in the back of their minds, insisting their friend was dead. Dead people couldn’t just stop being dead with two rings of light. The small spike of fear Danny caused when he was glowing was just because of the temperature drop. He was still their friend, he wasn’t acting like some out of control monster like the Fentons said all ghosts were. So he couldn’t really be a ghost. When the black haired boy suggested he might simply be half ghost, they latched on to the excuse, not thinking very hard on why their friend even thought that.

The never ending noise changed after he figured out how to switch between himself and the green eyed ghost form he’d gotten. It was less a meaningless irritating noise, now it seemed to vary and change depending on what he was doing. At first he figured it was just more noises he had to mentally ignore, but they started to be consistent. When it pitched low with a steady pulse it became easier to become invisible, not needing the mental shout to get his powers to play along. The times he unintentionally went invisible out of alarm also dropped, now that he knew if the weird energy scrabbling at his skin was making that sound, he could shout over it before it happened.

He still failed to catch it sometimes, the odd ectoplasmic song was just a constant background noise to him now. If he didn’t tune it out from time to time, he probably would have gone mad. It was more manageable now. When he became that second self, his ghost self, the crackling sound wasn’t trapped under his skin. More that he was wrapped in it, protectively swaddled in the noise that swung from beautiful to nails on a chalkboard irritating depending on his mood. The powers always came easier like that, as if being under his human flesh made it hard to exert his will on them. More surprisingly was when he managed to just instinctively do things. He had no idea he could fly, until he had started hovering because it ‘felt better’.

He didn’t really need to think too hard, or struggle to control anything with the sound outside. He could just relax and just do. His head pounded less as his capabilities broadened. In fact it almost seemed like planning too far ahead weakened him, or had him take the wrong choice. His hangups about being a poor ghost fighter led to so many unneeded hits against Bertrand, more so when the right answer came to him too late. The self doubt and shame was a weakness.

It was easier to be reactive, to let these instincts do as they will. After all, he was getting better at all of this, Sam and Tucker said so. Relaxing into the steady buzzing confidence felt right, and seemed to be working out fine. It was still part of him, it wasn’t something to worry about.

Danny was really getting the hang of this ‘being half ghost’ thing. That should have been a good thing, that they didn’t need to fish their friend out of walls or hiss at empty air to ‘show up’, but something felt off.

He’d stopped using his powers for his own gain. Sure, Tucker was glad his friend wasn’t casually possessing people after the whole Poindexter thing, but the slow shift from occasional ghost pranks to practically none was strange. Sam would say he was just ‘more mature’ now and didn’t want to blow his cover over something stupid. Yet even she would admit it was weird he wouldn’t brag to Tucker about sneaking into locker rooms he did not belong in anymore. He just ‘wasn’t interested’ in doing that sort of thing anymore.

More disturbingly he seemed to reverse that opinion shortly after the Freakshow incident. He slipped back to ‘before the accident’ Danny, more interested in space talk than ghosts, openly offered to help sneak them into a movie for free and seemed to avoid ‘going ghost’ as much as possible. Were they bad friends for not noticing Danny had practically dropped any ‘negative’ trait like being selfish or spiteful? Surely he had only been trying to ‘not be like Vlad’, or be like a comic superhero. After all, their friend slowly slid back to his new normal over a few weeks.

Sam didn’t tell Tucker that Danny had come to her one night, eyes wide with a strange mix of terror and exhaustion.

“He would have let you die! I-I broke free but I’m so, so sorry!”

“Danny, you didn’t do anything wrong. You broke free when it counted.” she reassured her friend, trying to ignore how fragile he felt as she forced the trembling boy into a hug.

He’d shaken his head. “I let him-I didn’t even realize-”

“You couldn’t help it! It can’t happen again, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

It was only weeks later that it occurred to her that Danny might not have been talking about Freakshow that day.

The sound was too much. His skin felt stretched tight simply containing his now ever present companion. Every movement, every action felt like this would be the one that would split him open and let the crawling screaming noise devour him whole.

Though it wasn’t really a noise anymore. It could talk. It had been named, though he wasn’t sure if he had named it, or the sound had named itself. He remembered the conversation, how Tucker had called him out for such a terrible alter ego name, but he couldn’t remember if he had answered back as himself, or if Phantom had done it. They were always influencing one another now, the ghost had practically trained him into letting it take control through the constant ghost fights. Danny didn’t know how to fight, Phantom knew almost nothing but. Of course it had made sense to just let the noise prompt and delegate his actions, of course it had been easier when he didn’t try to struggle control away with a half baked plan.

Yet apparently this throbbing pulsating thing wanted more than that. Being the hero that forced ghosts back wasn’t enough, because apparently Danny was misusing their powers. Danny was their weak link.

Didn’t his friends deserve better than some slacker? Didn’t he want to be the best he could be? He’d stumbled through fourteen years with minimal success, while the new self under his skin was practically a hero within a year.

It wasn’t a fair comparison, and he was only struggling so much this year because of all the ghost fights. Yet who’s fault was that? Who was the one who let them all here to put everyone in danger?

It was his responsibility to fight it. Shirking it just showed he wasn’t a very good human.

Their only real compromise was they couldn’t worry their friends. So Danny was still present in a way, a flimsy bit of cloth hiding who really was in charge a significant amount of time.

He had always wondered how Vlad could have gone off the deep end, to turn so violently on people who were once friends. Now he was fairly sure it was easy because Plasmius barely knew the Fentons at all, and warped Vlad into whatever best suited him.

His friends didn’t say anything about it. Maybe they liked him better this way, dragging them into adventure and danger because of ghosts instead of throwing out star charts and insisting on nights they needed to watch the skies.

Phantom was always happy to remind him that Sam and Tucker liked him better than Danny nowadays. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Yet the shrieking in his ears was getting harder and harder to ignore.

The Master of Time broke him. His ghost half, his dead self, whatever Phantom was would no longer stand for Danny to put their friends at risk. He made a bad choice. He got all their friends killed. HE plunged the world into ruin by trying to escape his guilt! He’d asked Vlad to remove his humanity after all, and wasn’t Danny always insisting that was him? He couldn’t risk any of that happening, not when Clockwork gave them a second chance. The uneasy status quo was torn asunder as Phantom attempted to claim dominance over both forms by force, the static sound a shrieking agony, like knives being driven deep into his brain. He wasn’t needed, he wasn’t wanted. No one would know that Danny was gone. He was just getting replaced by a better version of him in every way. The one who didn’t almost drive the world to ruin over being an immature child.

He was a child! Of course he was! He wasn’t even sixteen, he was allowed to make mistakes. That didn’t keep the ghost from shoving him deep down, too convinced in his own way to even consider letting his other half do as much as blink.

The sound finally stopped, but he couldn’t even feel the pain that should have been put in his stomach, disconnected as he was from himself. Now he was the quiet humming nudge, aware and ever constant, but unable to act without permission.

He was fairly sure his sound was not like the electric hum Phantom had been. At least, he had no trouble ignoring him. He’d listen when talking to his friends and family sometimes, but that was it. The ghost eventually got to the point that Danny didn’t even have much to add. He already knew what to say, they were his friends and family too.

Maybe he was pointless. Trying to fight for control was exhausting, and even if he won there was nothing to do. Sam and Tucker wouldn’t know what he was going on about if he said he was trapped in his own body. Being split apart never seemed to go well, and his ghost self was vehemently against it thanks to Clockwork.

He had to just stay put and watch someone else live his life. Someone that was basically him, but not quite.

Yet as time went on, he almost started to believe Phantom. Maybe this was for the best. He’d never reach his own dream now. No one cared that Danny wasn’t actually Danny. They liked this one just fine.

He could feel the strange pressure that seemed to be trying to crush him completely. Yet it was warm and comforting instead of terror inducing. A warm weighted blanket that slowly squeezed ever tighter. He’d be whole again. Not the same, not himself. Assimilated, overwritten. Replaced.

He couldn’t bother to keep fighting it anymore. Besides, the ghost’s whole name was Danny Phantom. Maybe he was meant to have been devoured like this way back at the accident. He didn’t even need to bother to ask the ghost to protect his loved ones.

They were more Phantoms’ family now anyway.

#dannymay2020 #Danny Phantom #sam manson #Tucker Foley #my stuff #the angst train has pulled into the station #honestly this is such a good prompt #so many ways to do it #but i'm going with the obvious #i actually had a fanfic from While The Show Was Airing #that the one we were following the whole time was Phantom #and his powers going out of control/being more violent #was his HUMAN side waking back up #(i never finished it lol)#now you know the twist for a mystery fanfic you will never find :V

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years

Text

The Whole Ass Fic A.K.A ClockWork Is Paying At Least One Person Hush Money

Vlad’s dumbest plot yet leads to a grade A gravy bowl of a dumb reveal. Danny’s class feels left out, Wes is literally left out, and ClockWork is forcing me to not leave them out at gunpoint.

Now that y’all have voted, I present to you, the Whole Ass Fic

Danny was having a nice day, he honest to the Core was. But then a blue portal half fucking blinded him, a startled Mr. Lancer accidentally threw a whiteboard marker into his eye, and Dash finally succeeded in hitting him -in the eye of all places, ugh- with a spitball. All of this followed by a -probably not quiet- mutter of, “ClockWork end me”. In short, he had already filled his quota for ocular trauma today.

But looking to the front as a -very not cheesetastic- certain someone stops monologuing, he’s experiencing a-whole-ass-nother kind of ocular trauma.

Danny gets up from his desk and slowly walks up to the front, eyes filled with disappointment and the residual energy of his three breakfast Red Bulls, “okay, so you’re telling me-”, Danny gestures erratically to Vlad, who's tied up on the floor and in ghost form, “-that you overshadowed ClockWork-”, gesturing even more erratically at ClockWork -who’s just sitting on a desk and inspecting their nails- but Danny maintains wide-eyed eye-contact with Vlad instead of attempting down the rabbit hole of why ClockWork is still here. Glaring at floor Vlad harder, somehow, “-so you could travel to the future, to team up with your future self and bring him back here-”, Danny points both hands at the floor a bit aggressively, “-so you could tag-team pulverise a teenager-”.

While Vlad rolls his eyes, not even slightly apologetic or willing to admit that throwing fists with teens being his number one past time was arguably pathetic. Danny gestures at the future Vlad, who’s glaring bloody murder at normal timeline floor Vlad, “-but said future you instead assaulted ClockWork”, facepalming and muttering into his hand, “least I know this future you really is you, being enough up his own ass to even consider attempting to do that”, looking back to floor Vlad, “so you used ClockWork’s powers at random and just came back to this timeline?”.

Kwan adds in, “through the ceiling”.

ClockWork smirks, “he got quite lucky in that regard. Not quite luck though”, Danny sighs exasperatedly at ClockWork when they wink with a smirk. Anything involving ClockWork required a lack of luck, not a wealth of it; that, or making a collection of the stupidest decisions you’ve ever made. Considering floor Vlad’s state of looking like an extra for a truly terrible Vampire BDSM film, Danny’s going with the latter.

Floor Vlad manages to spit out his gag, “well they somehow tossed me out of their body immediately after! I mean the audacity! And this Cheesehead-”, jerkily attempting to nod or point at the scruffy-looking future Vlad, “-gets more pissed and assaults me, ME! Instead of you”.

Future Vlad kicks him and snarls, “it’s been two years in this timeline! TWO! I stopped with the stupid fiddlediddling after six months!”, turning his head to the side and mumbling, “sure everyone close to him had to die first, but that’s a moot point”.

Dash snorts, “why would a ghost even want to assault Fentit. And wait, what? People died?”.

Danny meanwhile, throws his hands out to the side, “of course that happened!”, then gesturing towards ClockWork, “you can’t overshadow ClockWork, that’s not even possible! They literally had to have allowed you to”, actually turning to glare slightly at ClockWork, “why, I haven’t a shot-glass of pennies close to a clue”. Danny then blinks and slowly looks at the future Vlad, his words finally registering; while Danny also simultaneously massacres his last brain cell, “wait....you’re that Vlad? As in the one that technically murdered me? The one that sort of caused the near extinction of humanity and ghosts? The one that basically saw the big red ‘DO NOT PUSH, THIS IS A STUPID IDEA’ button, slammed your fist on it, and activated the apocalypse? The one that stabbed past me when I tried to fix the future? Sure I requested it, but ya still did it”.

Mr. Lancer, who had been progressively going more wide-eyed, “Crime and Punishment?!?!?! I mean, go off I guess”.

While Danny scratches his head nonchalantly, muttering more to himself, “also the one that gave me any faith in past you ever being capable of being good”.

Floor Vlad sputters, wiggling in his bindings like a worm, “how is murdering you what it takes to make you have even an ounce of faith in me?!?”, floor Vlad looks to future Vlad, “you can’t judge me, you fudge-bucket of a hypocrite”.

Danny rolls his eyes and snorts, “that’s not even pot calling kettle black, that’s a wad of chewed gum calling a fork an unchewed stick of gum, and actually expecting that insult to stick”. Danny then squints and turns to ClockWork, “wait”, pointing emphatically at future Vlad, “how does he even exist?!?!? That future was literally destroyed?!?”.

Future Vlad squints at him, looking affronted, “you mean you destroyed my existence too?!?”.

Danny turns to him and waves his hands around wildly, “THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU UNRAVEL TEN YEARS OF TIME! THOSE THINGS AND PEOPLE GO POOF!”.

ClockWork sticks up a finger, “that’s not how time works”.

Danny and both Vlads’ turn to them, both Danny and future Vlad pointing aggressively, “YOU STAY OUT OF THIS! THIS DOESN'T CONCERN YOU!”.

Nathan mutters, “or the rest of the class apparently”.

ClockWork smirks, “pretty sure the author disagrees on that one”. Everyone squints at them but goes back to bickering. Future Vlad points a little aggressively at Danny, “you were just supposed to fix the past! Not obliterate me!”.

Danny throws his hands up, “sacrifices had to be made! That’s what good guys do!”, gesturing at floor Vlad, “plus! You’re still here! And still A CRAZED UP FRUITLOOPY DICK!”.

Floor Vlad, looking a bit insulted, “language my boy”. Danny just looks down at him and knocks one of the desks on him; some kids water bottle -who the heck uses glass water bottles? Seriously?- smashing apart all over his face.

Future Vlad pinches his nose and gestures at floor Vlad, looking at Danny, “that’s because he hasn’t been horribly traumatised....yet”.

Floor Vlad sputters, “yet?”, before scrunching up his face and licking his cheek, “is this vodka?”.

Future Vlad glares down at him, “you don’t know suffering”, getting into floor Vlad’s face a little and shaking his finger violently, “you don’t know the meaning of the word”, while Danny mutters, “neither do you, by the way”, future Vlad keeps talking, “and you really think you can collect all these stupid cheese curd plots and not turn yourself into curdled milk?”.

Floor Vlad rolls his eyes, “says the murderer”.

Danny rolls his eyes almost in sync with floor Vlad’s eye-roll, “oh like you haven’t killed anyone”.

Mr. Lancer coughs, “um? There are other people here you know. And some of us don’t appreciate casually talking about murder at-”, glancing at his watch, “-nine a.m. in the morning”.

Floor Vlad glances at him, “no one but us and dear Maddie qualify as people”.

Danny sputters incredulously while ClockWork points at floor Vlad, “and that is not how classifications of species and words work”. No one so much as acknowledges the arguably most power-being ever this time.

Floor Vlad looks back to future Vlad, “and Daniel’s the one that messes everything up. Not me!”, glaring at Danny and muttering, “I would have had a perfectly viable clone otherwise”.

Future Vlad shakes his head and gestures aggressively, “you cloned him?!?!?!”, throwing his hands up and walking around, “this me’s insane! Wonderful!”.

Valerie snickers into her hand, “I want to get involved but...”, before gaping and sputtering incoherently to herself about Dani.

Danny snorts, “you hadn’t already figured that out when he decided to abduct and control the body of the dude who controls time itself and oversees everyone’s futures. A literal living legend and basically a god?”, shrugging and sounding nonchalant, “and yeah, technically we have a kid now. My genetics, but Vlad made her. So technically, we’re both her parents”, kicking floor Vlad, “I should sue you for child support”.

ClockWork nods, “and you would win actually”.

Danny looks tickled green, while floor Vlad shouts dramatically, “WHAT!?!?!?”. Future Vlad is just walking in a circle throwing his hands out randomly and making faces.

Dash mutters, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but, the damn twinks life would make a great soap opera”. ClockWork smirks ever so slightly at this.

Floor Vlad screws up his face and wiggles in the bindings some before squinting at Danny, “wait a biscuit buttering second, how do you even know about the ghost from the clocktower?”, sputtering and squirming, “how do you know their name?!? Even I didn’t! And you know their powers! Daniel what in the name of Gouda?!?”.

Danny deadpans, “oh don’t you use that tone with me, mister. You’re not my father”. While ClockWork smirks, “my name was actually the first thing he said, you just conveniently ignored that for plot purposes”.

Danny just speaks right over them and gestures at ClockWork, “and of course I do! They’re my Time Daddy!”.

Everyone goes silent immediately and you could hear a pin drop. Instead, a different voice breaks the silence, “wow! Didn’t know you had another dad, son!”.

Both halfas and the ex-halfa turn slowly and look at the doorway, where one Jack Fenton is standing and munching on fudge like he’s engrossed in an intense tv show.

Danny blinks and sputters, “how long have you been there?”.

ClockWork smirks, “since almost the beginning of this fic”. Danny glances at them, “that doesn’t make sense”. ClockWork shrugs, “well the audience might appreciate knowing, and I aim to please”.

Danny speaks thick with enough sarcasm to kill a lesser being twice over, and as if to prove this point floor Vlad starts hacking like someone force-fed him nails, “oH yEaH tHiS hAs BeEn A rEeEeEaAaAaLlLlL pLeAsUrE”, before squinting, “...what audience?”.

Star slams her face into her desk, “oh my Zone, seriously?”.

While Jack pipes up, “since Danno repeated vampire Vlad’s story back to everyone with so much disbelief I really couldn’t bring myself to interrupt”, standing and practically throwing the plate of fudge -having forgotten he even had it- when he throws his hands out to the side.

Mr. Lancer sighs and speaks as the fudge slowly smears down the classroom wall, “this was not in my job description, but thanks for the reminder why I don’t moonlight as a babysitter anymore”.

Jack, sounding way too happy for this situation and oddly not looking angry or even bothered, “and I’ve never heard my boy so passionate before!”, tapping his chin and looking at the two Vlads’, “though I do have to say. What the fuck is wrong with you V-man”.

Danny grumbles, “welcome to the life of having a half-ghost, who’s three nuts short of a fruitcake, that wants to aggressively be your uncle and/or father”, before sputtering incoherently over his dad swearing.

Jack tilts his head, looking like a confused puppy, “but, I’m your dad?”, quirking an eyebrow at ClockWork, “one of your dads?”. ClockWork looks like they just got blessed by a god... a god other than themselves anyway.

While Danny stares down at the floor unsure if he should feel deep horror or boyish wonder. Muttering, “did I just result in ClockWork getting adopted into my family through arguably convoluted and highly illogical means?”.

ClockWork makes a face that is the closest thing to insulted Danny’s actually seen on their face, “it was my belief we were already kin”.

Danny sputters and waves his hands around erratically, trying desperately to back-pedal, “what, I, er, no, I mean yes! Yes! Totally fam!”.

Valerie can’t help but let out her inner gossip rich girl mode, “ooooooooooo, someone’s in trooooouuuubbbbllllleeee”.

Floor Vlad sputters in utter disbelief, it was he that was supposed to be gaining new family members here! Not that oversized puff pastry! “This, that, THIS IS NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO GO!”.

Future Vlad blinks at Jack, “why are you not freaking out over the ghosts?”.

Star sighs, “are they really just ignoring that none of us have been freaking out?”.

Jack shrugs, “one’s tied up and the other gave me fudge”. Floor Vlad just shrieks in frustration and disbelief. While Danny gives a dramatic thumbs up to ClockWork, even going so far as to use a little ecto-energy to make his thumb sparkle like some anime bullshit.

Future Vlad kicks floor Vlad but speaks to Jack, “well if it’s anything, I’m not a ghost or half of one”.

Multiple people mutter, “half ghosts are a thing?”, while Valerie grins like a loon.

Floor Vlad shrieking, “WHAT?!?!?!”.

Future Vlad looks down at him but points at Danny, “he ripped out and ate Plasmius”.

Mr. Lancer grimaces and has to physically restrain himself from assaulting Kwan when he actually sticks his hand up and asks, “what’d that taste like? You know, for reasons”. No one’s honestly surprised at this point, when the bickering guys’ just act like the entire class are just extras added in after the main plot was established and without the main casts knowledge.

Danny blinks and gestures wildly at his dad, “are we just ignoring the uniformed third partly?!?”.

Mr. Lancer glares, “the class has been here the entire time”.

ClockWork smirks, “Vlad’s the authors' bitch right now so...yes”.

While floor Vlad gapes at Danny, “YOU DID WHAT NOW?!?!?”.

Danny throws his hands up exaggeratedly, “NOT IN THIS TIMELINE!”. While Vlad just quietly sputters about how Daniel could and even would, apparently, eat him. Danny has to severely resist spewing out a list of vore jokes at this. While ClockWork mutters with a smirk, about how the only reasons Danny’s not doing that is because the author’s tired of their phone crashing every time they try to write them.

Future Vlad points aggressively at floor Vlad, “we were the ones who thought ripping out his humanity would be a good idea!”.

Jack adds in some side commentary, “yeah, please don’t do that to my son”.

Floor Vlad mutters at the floor, “I need some bloody scotch”, before looking up at future Vlad and shouting, “WHY WOULD I DO THAT!”.

ClockWork points at floor Vlad, “the vodka hasn’t totally evaporated off your face yet, so you’ve got options. I have no pity for you”.

Floor Vlad glares at them, “I have standards”.

Half the class saying, “you sure about that?”.

Danny and future Vlad respond to floor Vlad in unison, with matching deadpan tones and judgmental facial expressions, “because, for all accounts and purposes, you are a sociopath”.

ClockWork sticks a finger up, “this is not how psychological diagnosis works”, gesturing at the class, “for one, patient confidentiality is a basic prerequisite, not an option”.

Nathan makes a mocked delighted gasp, “did we just get acknowledged?”. While Danny and future Vlad share a look tm.

Floor Vlad sneers, “rather that over an overgrown oaf, a self-sacrificial fool, a weak old man, or whatever is up with the time ghost”.

Danny glares while future Vlad socks floor Vlad in the face for that. Danny off-handed commenting, “‘Observant puppet’ is really the only insult that applies”, looking at ClockWork, “why aren’t the eyeballs up in a tissy about this anyway?”.

ClockWork smirks, “the author has decided they no longer exist”.

Danny blinks, “what kind of power does this ‘author’ have????”.

ClockWork mutters ominously, “the ability to outrun writers' block...for now”.

Danny ignores ClockWork out of slight horror and feeling like someone’s threatening him with another? dissection fic if he doesn’t stop encouraging ClockWork to derail the plot. Turning his attention to the two Vlads’ just in time to catch Valerie getting up and smacking both Vlads’ over the head, which just turns into an all-out fistfight. Well okay, floor Vlad is just squirming in his bindings and kicking like a feral rabbit, but still.

Valerie steps back and nudges Danny with a wily smirk, “who you wanna bet on to win?”.

Danny snorts, “future Vlad, based on sheer tenacity”.

ClockWork smirks and points a finger at the ceiling, “that’s my bet”, another portal opening up and yet another Vlad falling through and landing on the two others in a heap; knocking all three out, floor Vlad finally transforming back human. Danny looks to them, “the fuck is wrong with you?”.

While Maddie’s voice mutters from the doorway, “oh my Zone, Vlad?!?!”. Standing next to her is yet another interviewer from Genius Magazine: For Women Geniuses, By Women Geniuses; who slowly lifts up her phone and snaps a photo, while patting the pocket where her recorder is.

The next day Danny inexplicably gets pelted in the face -which, coming full circle, predictably stabs him in the eye in the process- by a magazine as soon as he steps through Mr. Lancer’s classroom doorway. Danny just lets it flop onto the floor unceremoniously, due to his veins being clean out of the consciousness juice that was Red Bull and thus incapable of caring about those pesky things called reflexes.

Danny sighs down at the abused magazine while slowly and dramatically covering his right eye. Sighing even louder at the cover somehow making everyone but the Vlads’ look kinda hot and ClockWork just being a black hole with a wicked grin -how they still seemed visually attractive is beyond Danny’s comprehension. The title reading ‘[REDACTED] Ghosts, Time Travel, And Illegal Cloning. Oh My!’, with the wonderful subtitle of ‘What Happens When Science Grows Fangs!’, and the sub-subtitle of ‘See Some Scientific Sin!’.

Danny’s sure the ‘[REDACTED]’ has something to do with ClockWork and them messing with an entire companies autocorrect function, but he decidedly doesn’t want to know.

Wes kicking in the classroom door seconds later only to pelt Danny with yet another copy of the magazine and shriek, “WHY!?!?!?! WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME!?!?!?!”.

Danny looks down at the magazine, which magically opened up to the page with the article when it landed, and snorts. It looked like someone had applied ‘[REDACTED]’ on the paper very liberally and with a pepper grinder. Danny then slowly turns and points at Wes with a massive shit-eating grin, “that’s what you get for being weak enough to fall victim to flu season. Sleepy sniffling sleuths earn no secrets”.

At this, the whole class laughs like they’re just a laugh track and an edited in fake audience.

END.

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julienschuester · 4 years

Audio

Every guy wanted to believe he had what it took to be Danny Zuko. He was the epitome of masculine power—a total bad ass and luck was always on his side. Tough, charming, confident, charismatic. Julien was roughly five-years-old when he watched Grease for the first time and felt like he somewhat understood it. With his nose pressed to the TV screen, he marveled at the music, the dancing, the leather jackets, the cars, the hair. He wanted in. Julien had a lot of roles he considered ‘dream roles,’ for example: Melchior in Spring Awakening, Link in Hairspray, Tony in West Side Story, Clyde in Bonnie and Clyde...you get the point. But at the very top of that list, above all else, was Danny. Grease was the first musical Julien fell in love with and it was through watching the musical over and over again that he realized what he was destined to be: a leading man.

Like Danny and hair gel or Danny and a cigarette tucked behind his ear, Julien and auditions went together. He was good at them. He had charisma, he had talent, and he was a tenacious performer. Most people got nervous in front of a casting panel, but not Julien. Every audition was a clean slate and a new opportunity to make a good impression. Plus they were fun. As he sat outside the Finn Hudson Auditorium waiting for his name to be called, he reminded himself that not only was he prepared, but he was born for this. Why would God have given him his precious head of hair if not to have him slick it back like a greaser from the 50s in his high school’s production of Grease? Exactly.

It was Miss Holliday, not his own brother, that peeked out into the hallway and called out “Julien Schuester,” when the clock struck his audition time. He took a deep, steadying breath and hopped out of his seat, putting on a smile and quickly making his way down the aisle of the auditorium a few steps behind the Trouble Tones coach. He stopped in front of his brother and casually greeted him before handing off his completed audition and conflict forms along with his headshot and resume. It was a formality, obviously, because Dan and Miss Holliday were already well aware of who he was. After exchanging pleasantries, Julien made his way to the center of the stage and quickly found his light, clasping his hands together and flashing his million dollar smile.

“Hi,” he started, “I’m Julien Schuester, as you know, and for my audition I’ll be performing ‘She Used to Be Mine’ from Waitress, a Warren monologue from This Is Our Youth and the ‘Never Stop Dancing’ choreography from Footloose...with some of my own tweaks.” Julien’s goal with his audition was to showcase his range. He chose a traditionally female song to show that he was down with the bold choice to have a gender blind production...plus it was objectively a great song and he sounded really good. He was sure no other guys were going to walk in and sing a song from Waitress, so he hoped it’d make him stick out. As for the monologue, well, it was from his favorite play and it captured the essence of being a teenager and being into someone but not necessarily on the same page as them. Very Danny and Sandy if you asked him. As for the dance combination he chose...it was just to showcase that he could dance. And to subliminally remind the directors that he’d been cast as Ren before and was the strongest male lead McKinley had to offer...then and now.

Every piece of the audition went off without a hitch in Julien’s eyes. He hit every note, every emotional beat, every dance move. At no point during his audition did the thought even cross his mind that he wouldn’t get the role he wanted. How couldn’t he? He was nailing it. Despite his brother being the one actually named after Danny Zuko, Julien knew there was no one better for the part than him...not at McKinley, anyway. When he wrapped up his dance combination, the final piece of his audition, he walked back to the center of the stage until he was basking in the spotlight—smiling, breathless. “I forgot to say this before,” he started, running his hands through his hair, “but I’d love to be considered for Danny Zuko.” His lips formed into a tight smile as he vaguely bowed and clasped his hands together in front of him gratefully. "Thank you,” he said with a grin, feeling good about his execution and relishing in the approving smile he had elicited from his brother. With another audition under his belt, he made his way off stage and back into the halls of McKinley, wondering how the hell he was supposed to wait until Sunday for the cast list.

#audition #crhq:grease

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silver--storms · 4 years

Text

Portland

Okay Sammy Anon here it is, sorry it took me so long I just wasn’t happy with my original draft so I started over. I hope you like where I went with it.

Shoutout to my babe @sparrowof-thedawn for being my Bae-ta. ;)

Warnings: None, it’s so fluffy it’ll rot your teeth.

WC: 3.8k

It was a Saturday afternoon, you were in your apartment lounging on the couch, waiting for a new video to upload to your YouTube channel, when you receive a message on your instagram.

Hello y/n, I am writing you on behalf of Greta Van Fleet. Jake Kiszka recently listened to your debut EP, which he shared with the band, and they really liked what they heard. The band is playing a ten show run across the West Coast in a month and their opening act had to cancel. We wanted to extend the opportunity to you to join them. Please get back to us as soon as possible to make arrangements, if you are interested in accepting this invitation. Thank you.

You sat there, heart pounding out of your chest, in shock at the thought of Greta Van Fleet even knowing you existed, let alone liking your music.

Without hesitation, or even taking a moment to process what you just read, you accepted the offer.

Grinning ear to ear, you called your mom telling her the news.

“I’m so for you happy y/n, but are you ready for what comes with this? At most the largest crowd you’ve played for has been 200 tops.”

You felt the air leave your body “Oh my god, you’re right. What did I just say yes to?”

You spent the next few weeks practicing five hours every day to nail down a small setlist and different elements you could incorporate into some sort of stage presence. Going as far as recording yourself for hours on end, mercilessly criticizing yourself, trying for perfection.

You went shopping with your best friend Alix to find some outfits that were easily interchangeable to add variety to your stage clothes without having to travel with multiple bags. You picked things like a colorful sparkly blazer, some see through button up blouses and, of course, the staple ripped black skinny jean that Jake Kiszka himself would approve of.

The day came to fly out to Portland to meet the band before your first show the next day. You were relieved when you found out you had a day before jumping right into the shows to be able to get to know them.

When you arrived at Portland International Airport everything was going to plan, you even made it there a few minutes early. However things took a turn when you arrived at the baggage claim to find out the airline had lost your luggage. You were mortified, as this only left you with your guitar and carry on bag containing just the essentials.

Panicked and filled with anxiety, you left your contact information with the airline in case your bags turned up in the next day or so that you’d be in the area. But you knew it was unlikely they’d find the luggage in time for your first show tomorrow night.

You exited the airport and searched for the description the band’s management gave you of your driver and the license plate number. There was no driver fitting the description, no one holding a sign and no matching plate.

You tried to calm yourself down “Maybe he is running late, I am a couple minutes early, wait it out.”

You waited for another thirty minutes before you broke down and called the manager, with no success. You spiraled into full blown panic as you hailed a cab and gave them the address of the hotel you and the band were staying at.

When you arrived at the hotel you were over an hour late. Heart racing, you hustled into the lobby heading for the front desk.

As you checked in with the clerk, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror off to the side of the desk. You looked rough, hair disheveled and makeup smeared from tears of frustration you had tried to suppress in the back of the cab on the way here.

All checked in you grabbed the key to your room and stepped over to the mirror to quickly try to freshen up your appearance. Fussing with your hair and reapplying some lipstick in an attempt to salvage any chance of a good first impression.

“This is as good as it’s going to get” you mutter to yourself.

Just then you heard familiar voices as you glanced over your shoulder. You saw the twins, Josh and Jake sitting at the hotel bar laughing about something between themselves.

Your hands began to shake as you grabbed your guitar and carry on, quickly walking towards the bar, when you collided with a boy.

You watched as your guitar slid out of your hands, flying into the air, when the boy lurched forward, almost diving, to catch the guitar inches from the ground.

“Holy shit!” you let out a sigh of relief as you practically snatched your guitar back, holding it close to your chest.

You looked up at the boy “Thank yo-” you stopped mid-sentence when you realized who he was, Sam Kiszka, the youngest of the band.

You were starstruck and at a loss of words. You never really gave Sam much thought. But being inches from him, you finally took him in.

You found yourself in a daze, staring into his bedroom eyes. You were completely mesmerized.

You felt your face growing warm and palms become sweaty “Oh my god, hi, I’m so sorry I ran into you like that, I really need to pay more attenti-”

Sam interrupted you “It’s okay, no worries.” he laughed. “I’m Sam, I’m assuming you’re y/n?”

You smiled at the fact he knew your name “Yes, it’s nice to meet you. I was just heading over to introduce myself to your brothers at the bar.”

Sam waved his arm motioning towards the bar “After you”.

Sam introduced you to his brothers, Jake and Josh, who were everything you thought they’d be. Jake, who was more timid, but very sweet. Where Josh was very vocal and had this passion behind each word. The four of you made polite small talk, Jake complimenting your EP and you expressing how excited you were to be here.

“Wait, where are the rest of your bags?” said Josh.

You let out a defeated sigh “Well you see…” you explained the trials and tribulations of the baggage claim disaster and the no-show driver to which the boys all apologized for the mix up with the transportation. “Yeah it just sucks because I’m not sure what I’m going to wear now for tomorrow’s show.”

Jake said he’d talk to management and see if there was anything they could do for you.

Josh stood up from the bar “Well let’s go up to the rooms, we have to wake up Danny anyways, he’s only been napping for over two hours.” He rolled his eyes.

As you entered the elevator, Sam offered to take your carry on, swinging it over his shoulder “You know, we have a couple interviews lined up for this afternoon, but after that I think we’re free?”

You looked at Sam with a confused expression.

“Portland has some of the best thrift shops, we could always hit a couple to find you some new stage clothes.”

You noticed Josh crossed his arms and exchanged looks with Jake smiling at each other. Before you dissect what they were thinking the elevator arrived at your floor, turning your attention back to Sam “Yeah, that sounds great!” Sam smiled at you as the elevator came to a stop.

As soon as the door opened Josh bolted and ran down the hall to their room to bust through the door, screaming at Danny to wake up.

Within seconds Josh retreated back into the hall, with his arms up in defense as Danny appeared running at him into the hallway with a pillow raised in his hand, screaming “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!”

Before Danny could land his blow to Josh’s head, Sam loudly cleared his throat, “Guys!” in a strained deep tone.

Danny turned to look behind him and laughed, dropping the pillow, walking over to introduce himself to you “Sorry, sometimes I just want to kill him. Trust me at the end of this tour, you will too.”

You laughed looking at Josh rolling his eyes behind Danny’s back.

The band had to get ready for their interviews and said their goodbyes. You entered your room, surprised by how big it was, but mostly taken aback by the view of the city. Stepping onto the balcony you breathed in deep, feeling like you should pinch yourself that this is actually happening.

Later that evening you were drying your hair after taking a quick shower when you heard a knock on your door. Peering out the peephole it was Sam, you felt your stomach flutter, opening the door slowly.

“Hey” Sam said smiling at you.

“Oh, hey, come in” giving him a half smile as you felt a little self conscious being makeup free with damp messy hair.

Sam stepped into the room “Are you ready to go?”

You looked down at yourself in your sweats, “Uhh…”

Sam chuckled “Need a few minutes?”

You felt your face get hot again “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t expect you guys to get back so quickly. Meet you downstairs in ten minutes?”

Stepping off of the elevator you spotted Sam sitting in a chair across the lobby, he waved at you, which made your heart skip.

“Hey, sorry, hopefully I didn’t take too long.”

He smiled, “You’re fine. Ready?”

You nodded but suddenly noticed he was alone “Wait, where’s everyone else?”

Sam started walking towards the door casually said “Oh, Josh and Jake already had plans to check out a local brewery and Danny’s girlfriend flew in a couple hours ago.”

Suddenly you felt very nervous, not in a bad way, just having the whole band with you was far less intimidating than just you and Sam alone together exploring different shops across the city. Nethertheless you felt an unfamiliar excitement grow within you.

Sam said he was taking you to downtown Portland to a couple of his favorite shops.

“You’re bound to find something that will work for tomorrow and we can figure out the rest later.” he said, but you were too lost to really pay attention to what he was saying.

You tried to play it cool, not wanting him to notice you studying him in the taxi. The way he held himself, the way his skin seemed to glow, his high cheekbones and perfectly arched eyebrows.

You always thought you were more into Jake, considering your mutual love for guitar, but there was something about Sam that lingered in your mind. Maybe it was how calm and collected he seemed, but not in a cold or intimidating way. He was warm and welcoming, like you’d have known each other for years versus the couple hours you’d spent together looking through racks of clothes.

“Ohh, this is it y/n!” Sam yelled across the store as he held up a bright purple polka dot fur vest with tassels hanging off the sides “This will really make a statement” he said sarcastically

“Oh yeah, that will definitely make a lasting impression, a real show stopper” you quipped back at him. You both laughed and smiled at each other.

You were starting to get frustrated not being able to find anything when Sam walked over to you holding a deep maroon dress.

“How about this” he held it up in front of you.

The dress had a subtle sparkle to it with bell sleeves and lace on top, something straight out of Stevie Nicks wardrobe.

Your face lit up “Oh Sam, it’s perfect. I love it!”

Sam smiled brightly “Why don’t you try it on, make sure it works”

You headed to the dressing room and slipped the dress on, it fit perfectly, like a glove. You admired your cleavage and the way it hugged your hips just right. Your worries about losing your luggage started to fade away, but you weren’t sure if it’s because Sam had found you the perfect dress or if this meant you got to have these little thrift store adventures with Sam throughout the tour.

As you were lost in thought Sam tapped on the door “Did it work?”

“Yes, it’s absolutely perfect”, you laughed in reply.

There was a moment of silence “Well…can I see?”

You felt your face get flushed as you slowly opened the door. Sam was standing directly outside, his eyes got wide and his mouth slightly dropped open as he stuttered.

“uh…Wow, yeah it looks great. I think it’s a keeper.”

You smiled coyly “Thanks, I’ll get changed and we can head out.”

Sam and you couldn’t stop talking the entire way back to the hotel. Everything from food, to different countries he’s visited, his favorite bands and of course you had to ask about the no shoe policy.

As you pull up to the hotel Sam quickly got out of the cab and ran over to your side opening your door for you.

You laughed loudly at him “Oh, Samuel, you’re such a gentleman. Thank you.”

He beamed at you, looking rather pleased with himself “So I’ve been told.”

As you were walking together to your room things suddenly shifted, an unspoken tension between the two of you, you started to feel nervous. The conversation between the two of you sort of died out and were mostly quiet the whole way up until you got in front of your rooms

“So this is it, I’ll see you bright and early?”

You nodded “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll try to not let the nerves get me and actually get some rest.”

Sam chuckled “You’ll be okay, promise” as he started to walk away you lightly grabbed his arm

“Thank you, by the way, you really didn’t have to do that tonight.”

Sam’s face scrunched up with confusion “Do what?”

Your hand remained on his arm “Helping me find new stage clothes, I really appreciate you taking the time out.”

Sam smirked and took a step towards you, your heart feeling like it was about to explode inside of your chest. Sam started to say something when Jake opened the door of the boys room and peaked out at the two of you standing inches from each other.

“I thought I heard voices.” You smiled at Jake and back up at Sam as he started to back up and walk towards Jake.

“Sweet dreams” he said joining Jake in their room.

You entered your room and collapsed on your bed replaying the night in your head trying to dissect every moment. You sighed as you rationalized that Sam was probably just being nice and you were getting ahead of yourself. You decided to head to bed to be well rested for the long day ahead of your tomorrow.

The next morning you all headed to the venue and started to run through your sets. Soundcheck went well and you were feeling okay about the show, however when it was an hour before you took the stage your nerves really started to get the best of you.

The band was finishing up with a pre-show meet and greet with some fans who had VIP passes so they weren’t available to talk you down. You felt hot and like you might vomit as the time inched closer.

With only twenty minutes left, you decided to peak out at the crowd from the side of the stage, instantly you knew that was a terrible idea. Looking out you couldn’t tell where the crowd started and came to an end.

Feeling like you might pass out, hot and sweaty, you needed to do something to cool yourself down. You headed to the refreshment table and grabbed some ice, dabbing it over your face and chest. The whole while taking deep breaths to center yourself.

After a few minutes, you felt yourself starting to calm down when you heard footsteps behind you.

“You okay?” turning around it was Sam with a warm smile, embarrassed you chucked the ice in the garbage next to you.

“Yeah, I guess” you said sheepishly “I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed, how do you do this every night?”

Sam laughed “Well, to be fair it’s not every night, but it does get easier”

You smirked “I hope so.”

Sam motioned for you to follow him over to a set of chairs “Look, I used to feel the same way when we first started doing live shows. Honestly, sometimes I’d get sick right before going on stage.”

You were shocked he admitted that “Wow, really?”

Sam nodded looking a little embarrassed “Yeah, really, it was awful.” Sam moved his knees in closer to you, lightly brushing them agaisnt yours “The thing you have to remember is that if you fuck up, the crowd will have no idea, only you will. You choose how you react to it, so just play it off. That’s one of the best things about being an up and coming artist, they have no idea what to expect from you more than you from them, so use it.”

You instantly felt the tension release from your body but before you could respond to his sweet words the stage manager yelled your name and waved you over, you got up.

Sam followed you to the side of the stage, handed you your guitar and said “Good luck and try to have fun.” as he gave you a light shove onto the stage.

You walked out on stage stopping halfway to turn back and smile at him as he gave you a thumbs up. You laughed at him mouthing the words “Thank you” and he nodded.

You strummed the first few notes of your opening song and after that it was all a blur. You felt electrified to play in front of that many people and you lost yourself in the energy of the night.

Catching glances here and there from Sam, who watched from the sidelines your whole set. You knew this tour was going to be the best few weeks of your life, especially with someone like Sam cheering you on.

#first ever request #hopefully you like it #portland fic #sammy kiszka #sammy kiszka fic #sam kiszka #sammy gvf #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #my writing

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camspam · 4 years

Text

Home’s at Heart - Dreadnought: Nemesis FanFiction

She was floating. City lights twinkled beneath her like stars. She lay lax in the black sky, as though she were floating in a dark body of water rather than through thin air. Her eyes were closed, and she kept her breathing slow and steady.

Danny didn't think she'd ever get used to this. Floating above the world.

It was so peaceful up here.

She shifting, lazily flipping over so that she was facing down towards the city. Things had been quiet, which was nice. Usually, she was happy to take on a wild fight. There was nothing quite like it. She enjoyed fighting. Perhaps a little more than she should. But tonight, she was happy to enjoy the peace and quiet.

She was above some suburbs now, not far from the inner city. She glanced over them, and for a moment was confused at their familiarity. Then it hit it with a faint surprise and she drew to a stop in the air. She was only a few streets down from home.

No. No, not home. Old home. Her old house.

Danny looked over the houses with an almost detached nostalgia. She used to live here. Back in the Before. Back when she painted her toenails behind locked doors and alleyways, back when her hair was too short and her shoulders were too broad, back when everything was wrong and she had to hide, hide, hide because she'd had no other choice. Back when she wondered whether or not she'd make it to eighteen.

… She should get home. Or, well, back to Doctor Impossible's place. Danny supposed it was technically her place too, but… well. She didn't want to assume. She wasn't sure how permanent this arrangement of theirs was, and she was too afraid to try and find out.

So, Doc's place. She should get back to Doc's place. It was getting late.

She started floating closer to the streets instead.

No, no, no. Idiot. Stop it.

She drew to a stop just above the houses. She clenched her eyes shut, taking a few deep breaths. What was she doing? She didn't want to see them. They hated her. They kicked her out. Her dad had screamed at her until she had permanent damage in one of her ears and her mum… her mum…

Well, she'd done nothing.

Danny had never been happy with them. Not really.

So why was she lowering herself to the ground?

She walked and came to a stop underneath a blasted streetlamp. She hid in the dark and watched the house. Her house.

Her old house, she reminded herself.

The lights were out. They were sleeping.

She should get back to Doc's.

She crossed the street instead.

Danny crossed the front garden almost as though she were in a dream. She peeked through the kitchen window, but the curtains were closed. She made her way around the back and floated upwards to her bedroom window- her old bedroom window.

She pressed her face up to the glass, holding her breath so she didn't fog up the class. It was dark in there as well, but the curtains weren't drawn. Her bed was still there with its sunken mattress. Her desk. Her wardrobe was thrown open and empty, and she could see a roll of black bin bags sitting on her desk. Her laptop was gone as well. With a twist of her mouth, she realised her dad had likely sold a bunch of her stuff.

They were erasing her from their life.

Erasing her old life.

She didn't know why it hurt so much. Didn't know why her throat closed.

She hadn't cried when it happened. She hadn't really cared that much when it happened, besides the fact that she was hungry the following morning and kept thinking of the pizza Doc had owed her.

Well, perhaps she did care, but… she'd been free.

She'd been free and she never, ever wanted to go back.

And yet…

She hadn't thought they'd erase her.

Then again, she hadn't really thought about it.

God, why did she even care? Why did it matter? She wasn't coming back. Doc could get her all the dresses and makeup and laptops she wanted. She had a new room and a new bed and a new wardrobe. And more importantly, she felt safe. She didn't have to hide. She could paint all twenty nails in bright colours and walk around barefoot and glove-less. She could spin in dresses and try to teach herself to walk in high heels. She could do anything and everything and no one could stop her even if they wanted to.

She was free.

Free.

So she turned her back to the barren room on the other side of the window and flew away.

She didn't look back.

---

Doctor Impossible was lounged on the couch with her feet up on the coffee table, sucking on a lollipop and absently watching Spongebob. Gut was curled up in his bed in the corner, legs kicking as he dreamed, pug nose twitching. He snorted and sat up as Danny came in through the door, before realising it was just her and lying back down.

"Hey, kid," Doc said, not looking up from her show, "How'd caping go?"

Danny opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. It was like she'd lost her voice. After a moment, Doc looked over the back of the couch at her.

"Danny? You okay?"

"Yeah," Danny said. She'd meant her voice to come out strong and casual, but it came out small and quiet. Doc sat up properly.

"Did something happen?"

"No. Yes. No."

Idiot.

"Okay, Ms Indecisive," Doc stretched and turned the TV, gesturing for Danny to come over. She plopped down on the couch next to Doc, stupid and annoyed at herself and just kind of wanting to go to bed. But then Doc put an arm around her shoulders and Danny sunk into her side with a small sigh.

"Hard night?" Doc asked, after a moment of almost blissful silence. Danny shook her head.

"Opposite."

"Aw, no one to beat up?"

Her lips twitched, but only for a moment, "Nah. I, uh… I dropped by my parent's house."

"Oh," said Doc, surprised. She was quiet for a moment. "What did that bastard say to you?"

Danny quickly shook her head, "I didn't- I didn't talk to them. They were sleeping. It's just…"

She trailed off. Doc waited patiently, absently running a hand over her head. Gut snored in his bed. Finally, Danny swallowed.

"I looked through my old bedroom window. They've, uh… they've pretty much gotten rid of anything. It's like I was never even there," she looked down at the coffee table, her chest twisting and her throat tight. She was so stupid. "It's dumb, but…"

"Dumb?" Doc cut in, brow furrowing, "Danny, that's terrible. You've got a right to be upset."

"But it's not like I'm ever gonna go back there," Danny muttered. Doc shook her head.

"Doesn't matter," she said, "Any decent parent would have kept your room the way it was. Hell, any decent parent wouldn't have kicked you out, but…"

She huffed, then shook her head again. She sucked on her lollipop, the way Danny knew she did when she was starting to crave a cigarette. She was trying to quit.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is that you deserve to be upset," she said, after a moment, "Your parents are supposed to love you, no matter how 'against' their ideals you are. Kicking you to the streets with nothing but the clothes on your back was one thing. Getting rid of your room…"

She trailed off. Danny buried into her, abruptly feeling small. She could fly. She could punch holes through the side of buildings. She could break bones with ease and catch a falling plane out of the sky. She could shoot right out into space and circle the Earth. She could see the lattice, the reality of the world, and she can tug at the strings and manipulate them.

But in that moment, she felt young and small (like she actually was). Doc held her close and rubbed her back.

"Tell you what," she said quietly, "Let's drink some hot chocolate and put a movie on. Hell, I got you that makeup kit, right? Bust it out, let's paint nails or whatever. Girl junk. Would you like that?"

Danny wiped at her eyes, throat tight, and nodded. Doc smiled at her. Gut grumbled sleepily.

"Awesome," she said, "Now, how about The Lego Movie?"

"You're a literal child."

Doc laughed, "Shush, girl."

#dreadnought #nemesis #dreadnought: nemesis #by April Daniels #the nemesis trilogy #danny tozer #doctor impossible #trans #canon trans character #my writing #fanfiction #i mean #doc IS only seven years old #danielle tozer #lgbt+#fluff #tw implied abuse #tw implied transphobia

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thebrownblog · 4 years

Text

Shaker’s Mill

As the days got cooler and the nights got longer, John Redman came to realise troubles he thought may be downwind had already enveloped him. There wasn’t any one particular moment where this cold truth struck him like a thunderbolt or a holy revelation, but instead understanding dawned gradually, at first mainly expressing itself in a constant feeling of unease deep in his gut.

Things were different now to how they had been at the beginning of that hot and seemingly endless summer that had begun so promisingly. The point where it was still possible to deny this had passed, it simply was. His friends with his cherished gang of brothers-in-arms was never going to be the same again, and that had bent his heart out of shape. Carol was gone and never coming back, and that had shattered it. These were the things that he could put his finger on, but they weren’t all of it. No, there was so much afoot lately that he didn’t fully understand.

Things had been…slipping. Somehow that was the best way to describe it. “Coming apart at the seams” was another decent effort. Unraveling, going south, heading west, taking the Nutso Express headed east, getting fucking weird, going bat-shit crazy. They all beat somewhere around the right bush, but none of them quite hit the nail on the head in expressing exactly how things had been around these parts recently.

“The centre cannot hold” John mumbled to himself before taking another drag from his cigarette. A crow eyed him suspiciously for a couple of seconds before turning its attention elsewhere again.

“Clearly not a fan of Yeats, eh?” This time the crow gave him a quick, disdainful look before spreading its wings and setting sail for pastures new, probably ones free of smoking morons who spoke to themselves out loud.

John took a final drag on his Marlboro (“Filthy habit John! I won’t kiss you anymore if you keep smoking those cancer sticks!” Carol had proclaimed, taking a drag on her Lucky Strike. Within ten seconds she had kissed him once again. A long, lingering kiss....), and stubbed it out on the dry clay by the rather shallow-looking brook he was currently standing in front of. He shivered a little as a cool breeze ripped past him. Summer was already packed up and waiting in the departure lounge with its luggage, and wasn’t it a drag?

He was unable to resist the heavy wave of misery that suddenly washed over his constant state of low-level melancholy. He sat down on the clay, let his head drop down into his hands and began to cry. At first he wept gently, but soon he was releasing great unselfconscious sobs, his back arching with the force of them. He wept for the way the bottom seemed to have suddenly fallen out of everything he took for granted. He wept for the way all the innocence had ungraciously disappeared from his seemingly perfectly adolescent life. He wept for friends long gone, even if they still only lived a few blocks away. Most of all though, he wept for Carol. There wasn’t even a hateful bird to keep him company anymore.

***

“Hey give me that, you clown!” Danny bellowed, his laughter robbing the command of any real weight.

“Come and get it, dipstick!” John retorted.

“Go wide, go wide!” Eric cried out to his left.

“Nice catch Eric, you shithead! Now pass it over!” Danny was getting fed up.

“Over here! Come on, come on!” Kyle implored as Danny advanced rapidly on Eric, who seemed unsure what to do in the face of Danny’s genuine annoyance.

In the end, it was this hesitation that caused Eric to botch the throw to Kyle and send it over his head and the right….and straight through one of the factory’s single-glazed ground-floor windows.

“Oh you idiot!” exclaimed John and Danny, almost at the same time. Eric had his hands up against the sides of his head, eyes wide with the kind of shock that usually follows making a sudden, major cock-up. Kyle was standing motionless, head turned left to see the damage two feet behind him.

“OH YOU STUPID FUCKING LITTLE BASTARDS! YOU”RE GONNA PAY FOR THIS!” roared Mr. McKinley as he came bursting out of the factory’s rear fire escape, red-faced with bulging eyes and yellow teeth clenched together in a grimace of rage.

For a moment that felt at least ten years long panic enveloped the quartet of boys, and they all remained rooted to the spot as he advanced on Kyle, the closest target. It would have seemed to any casual observer (perhaps a bird in a tree, for example) that Mr. McKinley was going to be able to simply stride over to Kyle and snap his young neck with no resistance whatsoever. Kyle was only able to stare at him wide-eyed and trembling, like a bird hypnotised by an approaching snake. In the nick of time, the spell was broken however.

“RRRRUUUUUUUUNNNNN!!” screamed Danny, and the paralysis was broken.

John and Danny immediately began pounding the cement of the weedy backyard with their Nikes, gaining a two-second advantage over Eric, who was then away like a steam locomotive once he jolted into life, rapidly gaining on them. Kyle was the most terrified, and consequently the last to get moving, despite being the one who most needed to. A second later and he’d have been seized upon, but the realisation that this was for real hit him with literally not another moment to spare, and he performed a crab-like sideways shuffle to evade McKinley’s outreached arms. He turned his body right so quickly that he momentarily lost his balance and was on the verge of tumbling to the ground. For one very long moment the issue was in doubt, as McKinley continued his lumbering, heavy-footed advance, and then Kyle regained his balance and was in motion, leaving the portly foreman behind.

McKinley, knowing in spite of his rage that his ample frame had no chance of catching up to a skinny teenager’s athletic body, did not give pursuit. Instead he remained in place below the shattered window, shaking his fists and hollering at the young vandals who had disrupted his day.

“I’LL GET YOU! I’LL GET ALL OF YOU LITTLE COCKSUCKERS, YOU JUST SEE IF I DON’T! YOU’RE ALL DEAD! DEAD, YOU HEAR ME, YOU MOTHERF-” Mr McKinley yelled for quite some time, none of it cooking recipes or grooming tips.

As they got out of earshot of the steady barrage of threats and profanity, the boys’ spirits began to lift. They eventually came to rest in a dry, yellowish field about half a mile from the scene of the crime, sweaty and almost overdosing on adrenaline.

“What a pleasant gentleman!” John said, panting.

“Oh yeah, a real pillar of the community, eh?” Danny quipped in return.

“I think he was a tad displeased with us today though” Eric said, getting involved slightly late, as was his custom.

“What a fucking prick!” exclaimed Kyle with all of his usual subtlety.

The other three boys looked at him, Danny’s lip started to quiver with amusement, which in turn amused Kyle enough to start laughing, and within seconds it had spread like a forest fire, with the whole gang in fits of hysteria. The tension had been released.

“What a fucking prick indeed!” John chipped in when he was composed enough to speak and the hysteria was dying down. Danny made eye contact with him, his lips quivering harder than ever, and it started all over again.

***

“What’s wrong Johnny boy?” Tony Redman asked, taking his eye off the television screen and regarding his son with a mixture of mild concern and frank curiosity.

“Huh?” John replied groggily, jolted suddenly out of his reverie.

“You’ve barely said two words all night. What’s eatin’ ya?”

“Oh nothing dad, I’m just tired. Long day I guess.”

In a way this was true. It felt like every day had been a long one recently. All experiences, even ones which would usually be rather mundane seemed to have taken on a sometimes sickly intensity as the summer approached its sweltering, sticky crescendo.

“If you say so, son. If ever there’s something you need to talk about, you know where to find me, OK?”

“Yeah I reckon I could track you down if I had to, dad.”

“I’m an old fart, but I’m not quite over the hill yet, you’d be surprised at how much your old man knows about things.”

“I don’t doubt it. You still owe Jesus five bucks from school after all!”

“The old ones are the best, eh?” his father chuckled and turned his gaze back to the television. His concern for his son was genuine and didn’t recede with the turning of his head, despite appearances. The boy had been off-kilter for a couple of weeks now, John’s handsome face too pallid for his liking... and had he lost weight? It certainly seemed so when looking at the boy (boy? Hardly anymore! Where do the years go?) in profile this evening. Tony Redman, who had indeed lived more of a life than his son would believe or credit, continued to ponder the cause of his son’s malaise (Drugs? Girls? Bullying?) until he dozed off in his armchair with half a can of undrunk beer sitting next to his left foot.

***

Lying in bed unable to sleep at the antisocial hour of 1am, John’s mind ran down the hazy, nebulous paths which are so well-defined and accessible during the small hours. He had seen things in the previous few days that he was struggling badly to reconcile with. This had been the case too often recently. Tonight, as with the previous night he had tried reading, usually a surefire way to doze off quickly, but had found himself completely unable to focus, reading the same few lines over and over until he threw the paperback on the floor in frustration.

Uncomfortable images refused to stop flashing in his mind like blinking warning lights. Carol and Danny engrossed in a secret conversation. The unnatural act the homeless man had performed on the field. Fragments of shattered glass twinkling in the sun. McKinley waving his fists, his face twisted in an expression of raw fury. The chubby boy from the year below sprinting as fast as his stubby legs would carry him, panic in his eyes. Blink blink blink. Flash flash flash.

It was enough to drive a fellow mad. The stench of stale sweat and sleeplessness permeated his room as he resigned himself once and for all to another day of grotesque fatigue in the July heat. The radio had been announcing all day that tomorrow (now today already) was going to be a scorcher. Sunscreen would do precious little for the expanding bags under his eyes however.

***

John was not the only adolescent boy in Shaker’s Mill unable to fall asleep that night, far from it. Two miles away (as the crow flies anyway), Danny McGrogan was enduring a similar bout of greasy insomnia. He too had seen the quality of his sleep decline rapidly in recent times, for reasons similar but not entirely the same as those troubling his good friend and long-term accomplice in mischief.

“What the fuck is going on?” he murmured to himself, and not for the first time that week. Unlike John, he had given up on trying to sleep well before midnight, and was currently sat at his desk, gazing out of the large rectangular window overlooking the deserted street below. Deserted for now anyway.

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axelsagewrites · 5 years

Text

Stiles Stilinski*Sister

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

Requested by Annon:

TW imagine Stiles younger sister by a few months, and he treats her like a child, and she gets sick of it that he doesn't give her chance just because monsters exist and he's paranoid and he gives her feelings that she doesn't want to feel, and he makes her feel useless and hurts her feelings and sometimes embarrassed the reader.

From birth (Y/N) Stilinski was treated like a fragile china doll. Born almost 3 months early with several complications they were concerning from the start. The baby was barely even a ‘viable’ birth. Sheriff Stilinski was panicking over the birth as his wife brought their first daughter into the world. Stiles was only 10 months old when (Y/N) was born and had no clue why the man who’d bring him food was pacing around the room inside of playing peekaboo. But as he got older, (Y/N) not that far behind, he inherited his father’s protectiveness over his sister. Of course, the Sherriff was concerned about both his children, only being heightened by his wife’s death, but (Y/N) was always the ‘most vulnerable’. The pair did their best to protect her while she tried to prove she didn’t need to be protected. Stiles would tell her not to follow him and Scott on the big climbing frame scared she’d fall. Okay well, I’ll just climb the slide then, (Y/N) would think. And so (Y/N) would and normally be up there first. School was different. The Stilinski family decided to send the two to school together as they just fit in the year’s requirements. Stiles was one of the older ones while (Y/N) was one of the youngest. They’d compete in tests, games, and anything else possible. (Y/N) would do their best to embarrass Stiles while Stiles attempted to protect (Y/N) from bullies. Even though Stiles was their prime target. Despite being in the same year they decided not to deal with each other in school. (Y/N) had her group, Stiles had Scott. It worked. Of course, Stiles still looked over the girl, but he saw she could take care of herself. Well, until the wolves came to time.

Stiles and Scott were both thrown into the supernatural world. Despite Scott being the werewolf, it was still as bad for Stiles. He had to go through a lot of the same things with none of the powers. Being human in a supernatural world makes anyone panic but Stiles had (Y/N) to think about. But (Y/N) was really into myths. Greek myths, Roman myths, strange creatures. Didn’t matter. (Y/N) had taken their late mothers’ old collection of books of myths when she was young and got hooked. As Stiles was trying to help his friend he would ‘borrow’ her books without asking. And she would notice. So (Y/N) found out. Stiles wasn’t the best liar, yet, and (Y/N) knew her brother. So (Y/N) became like Stiles; the human with the info. (Y/N) had to admit Stiles had great intuition but she had the prior knowledge. She was useful. But Stiles didn’t care. It was too dangerous. She could get hurt. You’d be safer at home. Every time he said one of these she’d sigh and walk away. there was no fighting Stiles, the boy was delusional. She did meet Derek, Deaton, and Peter. Well, she wasn’t supposed to meet Peter, but she did. Stiles had been on extra edge recently and (Y/N) didn’t know why. She’d thought it was strange he was hanging with Lydia and Allison now, but nothing was ever explained. All the involvement she had with the supernatural was either answering their questions, meeting Deaton to ask her own questions, and occasionally being dumped on Derek to ‘look over’ her. But stiles were finally talking to girls so (Y/N) didn’t want to ruin it. “So,” (Y/N) said, trying to make it casual, “What’s up in the land of wolves?” They were sitting on the sofa watching some crappy movie, eating dinner. Sheriff was at work and Stiles had cooked his best dish; take out. Stiles gulped, “Um not much. Wolfy stuff and you get it…” he waved her off. (Y/N) crossed her arms, “SO this movie huh?” (Y/N) scoffed “I’m not an idiot. Your panicking, Scott’s panicking, and Deaton’s avoiding my questions,” “You talk to Deaton?” Stiles tries to change the subject. “Yes,” (Y/N)’s eyes narrow, “I like this sort of stuff. I know about it. I can be useful too,” “I know,” “Stiles you’re treating me like a child,” (Y/N) told her brother. He sighed “I’m just…protecting you. It's more dangerous than your storybooks,” “They’re not story books!” Stiles gave her a look, “Maybe when we were 7 but now it's real. I can help.” “No,” “Sti-“ “I SAID NO!” (Y/N) flinched. “It's too dangerous. End of,” Stiles crossed his arms and sulked back. Wiping a quick tear away, (Y/N) stood up, “Fine,” she spat. “But know one day you’ll need help and I won’t run to you,” She turned on her heels and rushed upstairs. “What about your dinner?” Stiles went after her, standing at the foot of the stairs. (Y/N) paused, fighting tears, “I don’t care,” She yelled back. Stiles flinched as her door slammed with a bang. He slumped back down onto the couch, trying to find a better show to watch. It wasn’t safe. He kept telling himself. I need to protect her, for dad. (Y/N) didn’t feel the same. Lying face down on the bed, (Y/N) fought back tears and lost. He always did this. She wasn’t strong enough. She wasn’t smart enough. She wasn’t capable of protecting herself. It made her feel not enough. “Why can’t he let me,” she whispered to the photo on her bedside of her mum holding her in her arms, Stiles in dads. “I’m not a baby. You’d want me to be strong. Like you,” (Y/N)’s words fell on deaf ears of an old photo. He’d never changed. Stiles doesn’t do change.

But Stiles couldn’t control the world. The alpha pack wanted to know everything about each kid and their friends and family. They knew everything about Melisa, Danny, and even (Y/N). but they didn’t see a use for her, well not right away. Stiles and Scott were forced to stay back for Lacrosse so (Y/N) would either go to a friend or walk home. They only had the jeep and (Y/N) knew better than to ask for a car they couldn’t afford. (Y/N) knew she had to study, after all, she was in high school, so decided not to go to her friend’s house. She waved goodbye at the gates, shoved her headphones in, and started home. The walk wasn’t too bad and (Y/N) did like to be somewhat healthy with all these werewolves running around. But despite her dads’ warnings not to have her music on full because she’d be unable to hear her surroundings she did. Her dad had tried to teach the siblings a little fighting but soon gave up on Stiles. But despite the self-defense training, her dad gave her when the hand clamping over your mouth has claws on it, you just scream. Off course the large werewolf paw muffled it and his running meant anyone who heard wouldn’t see them for long. (Y/N) would like to think she’d kick them in the balls when they put her down and run but, in reality, she fought back sobs. She thrashed and struggled but the twins were still able to tie her to a chair. “Did you bring it?” A cold voice asked. (Y/N) head whipped to the side to see a man walking in with a cane and a woman guiding him. When the twins spoke, her head turned to them, “Right here,” “Good,” he smiled a creepy smile. The woman let go of his arm and he sauntered over to her chair. He grabbed her jaw, although light still strong, “Well done,” (Y/N) pulled her head back, not caring if she hit it off the back of the chair, “Fighter?” “Not really,” Aiden chuckled. (Y/N) glared and as the man went to touch her face again she bit him. Screw manners. He pulled his hand back with a hiss. Suddenly she couldn’t breath and claws were starting to pierce her neck “I wouldn’t do that,” he growled, “you won’t just get rabies from our bite,”

When Stiles saw the dinner sitting on the counter, not even heated yet, he was concerned. Scott was busy raiding his fridge for after game snacks as he called out “(Y/N)”. when no one answered the pair shared a look, “Those damn headphones,” Stiles realized. He walked over to the stairs and yelled louder. No response. He huffed and ran upstairs, throwing open her door and yelling “(Y/N)-“ but cutting himself short. “(Y/N)?” he said in confusion. Stiles went back downstairs and Scott was looking at him with a questioning look. “Maybe she went to a friend’s house?” Stiles shook his head, “No we’ve got that English test she wanted to study for,” Scott shrugged as Stiles frowned, “I’m calling her,” Scott groaned, “She’s not gonna like it,” “I don’t care,” Stiles said like it was the most obvious thing. Scott sighed, sitting the food he was eating down, “You embarrass her. Like really embarrass her.” Stiles barely glanced at him while he pulled out his phone, “Stiles! She feels crappy. Last time I was here I swear I heard crying. Just text her and give her half an hour. Then you can phone,” Stiles paused, holding to phone against his chin in thought, “Crying?” “Yeah, stiles,” Scott said, walking closer, “You make her feel useless. Give her a break,” “Okay. Half an hour,”

As the alpha’s chilled casually around the run-down living room (Y/N) panicked. Stiles was usually so protective. He would’ve got out of Lacrosse 20 minutes ago, home 10 minutes ago, and defiantly called when he couldn’t find her. It was her turn to heat dinner up after all. (Y/N)'s lip was going to go raw at her chewing. They’d took her stuff and sat it in a pile, but the phone still hadn’t buzzed. The blind man had left, and Ethan was studying something half-heartedly on the sofa. The girl sat, picking at her obnoxiously sharp nails while Aiden went between working out and playing on his phone. Then the worst thing happened, “I need to go to the bathroom,” (Y/N) pipped up with little enthusiasm. Ethan chuckled but didn’t look up. “Tough,” The girl said, clearly not caring. Aiden, however, spared a glance. He doesn’t have feelings, (Y/N) thought. “Like I really need one,” it was unfortunately not a lie. She hadn’t been allowed to go since lunch and that was hours ago. PE was last so water was gulped before the end of the day. Don’t think about water. “Too bad,” the girl told her, more aggressive, “Should’ve gone before you came,” “I didn’t get the choice,” (Y/N) snapped before she could stop. The girl let out a hollow laugh, approaching (Y/N) at a torturously slow pace, “Little girl thinks she has claws. I got these ones,” She waved her fingers slowly in front go her face, “And I’m desperate to use them,” “Just take her to the bathroom,” Aiden groaned. The girl shot him an angry look, coupled with red eyes. “She looks like she’s gonna wet herself. And I’m not cleaning it up,” “You take her,” The girl crossed her arms. “I’m a dude,” “Too bad,” The girl stood her ground. Ethan sighed from his spot, “Just stand outside the bathroom,” he told his brother, “We’re three stories up. If she jumps she’s not getting far,” (Y/N) shot Aiden a sorry look and he groaned. “Fine,” Reluctantly he stood up and untied (Y/N), her hands going to rub her wrist to soothe it, “C’mon,” (Y/N) wasn’t about to argue and followed the werewolf. The bathroom looked even more dire than her situation. Aiden motioned for her to go in and turned to lean against the wall across from the door. (Y/N) walked in, slowly shutting the door and locking it. As soon as the door was locked she sped up. Ethan was right, she was too far up and above the concrete. Not to mention she couldn’t imagine fitting through that window without being heard. After (Y/N) washed her hands she looked in the mirror and sighed, her hand going up to grab her locket. He must be a werewolf. (Y/N) told herself. She opened the necklace and let the dust fall into her hand, holding it tight. She opened the door with the other, taking a deep breath. Aiden had barely looked up from his phone when she flung the dust in his face. He coughed a little before he slumped. (Y/N) quickly grabbed him, struggling, and placed him on the floor, knowing he would’ve made a thud. The apartment seemed to go silent for a moment as (Y/N) crouched next to Aiden. When no one came she stood slowly, walking through the corridors. The only doors were the bathroom one and one other before the corridor ended and you were in the open planned living room kitchen. (Y/N) looked at the other door and saw it was a dingy bedroom with a stained bed. The dust had been a strong type of wolves’ bane she’d got from Deaton. Although not knowing the whole situation (Y/N) had known something was going to happen. She always kept a few things on her. Mountain ash, mistletoe, wolf’s bane, and such but all in her backpack. Which was currently in the corner of the living room. But (Y/N) was beyond lucky. The bedroom had a fire escape. Cringing as the window creaked, (Y/N) opened the window as quietly as possible. You could tell from the fire escape that it would creak. She sat on the window ledge, feet hovering over the metal. RING! RING! RING! (Y/N) jumped a little when she heard her phone go off. Although not having wolf hearing (Y/N) knew that they would grab her phone and probably go to find her. Maybe the noise would mask her noise. So (Y/N) jumped onto the fire escape and rushed down, metal clanging with her footsteps. As she was almost on the ground she heard one of the wolves run through the apartment and someone yells for Aiden. Well, that’ll be a nice surprise, (Y/N) thought. She looked over her shoulder as she began to run out the alley and saw the woman looking out the window. Luck seemed to finally be on her side as she was looking the other way and (Y/N) was able to scamper. (Y/N) pressed herself against the front of the building, knowing she’d be out of eyesight. Once she’d took a couple deep breaths she began to sprint. The wind ripped at her skin and her legs felt like jelly, but she pushed on. (Y/N) had only sort of saw where they went but she didn’t care where she ended up. The first thing she recognized was her friend's house at the end of the street. But (Y/N) paused. They had to know where she lived to have found her. She’d be putting this on her doorstep. But at least she could get home from here. (Y/N) ran before she could think. But as she ran past her house she only stopped to grab her bike and speed off even faster. What was a human house going to do? The jeep wasn’t even there. (Y/N) jumped off her bike, letting it fall and crash into the wall, and ran inside the vets. “Wolf,” She panted when she saw Deaton, ignoring the strange look from a couple picking up their dog. Deaton’s eyes widened and he ushered her behind the counter and into the back, “Wolf’s her dog,” He told the customers, “Out of surgery not that long ago,” they nodded in understanding and left, unsuspecting. Once the place was empty he asked, “What wolf?” “Twins, some girl, a blind guy,” She said through pants. “I used the wolfsbane. I-I ran. I’m going to be sick,”

When Scott and Stiles got their Stiles rushed to (Y/N) who was sitting down, cradling her. She wasn’t crying, or smiling, or showing anything. Deaton filled Scott in, glancing over at the siblings occasionally. “We’ll deal with it (Y/N). don’t worry,” Scott told her, crouching to the sibling’s level, “But can you help?” “Scott!” Stiles glared at him. (Y/N) nodded slowly, “It was Aiden and Ethan. Some girl and a blind guy,” “Yeah, but where? I need you to think,” She shook her head, “That apartment was just a stop. They don’t live there,” Scott nodded but there was still defeat in his eyes, “I-I through wolves’ bane at Aiden.” “I heard,” Scott looked down, “We’re gonna have to get you protection. I don’t know what yet-“ “Teach her,” Stiles cut him off. “What?” Stiles sat up properly, “You or Derek or even Deaton I don’t care. Someone’s gonna teach her. Its no use her having protection. She’ll be alone sometimes, and she needs to be ready,” (Y/N) nodded in agreement. Scott stood up, nodding and pulling out his phone, assembly for Derek, “I guess you’re in the pack,” Stiles sighed. “There’s a pack?”

#teen wolf #Teen Wolf Ships #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf stiles imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles imagine #Stiles #Sheriff Stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles bsm #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi bsm #teen wolf stiles stilinski imagine #stiles brother #brother!stiles

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