#danny is a ball of pure anxiety
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Danny was weak. Amity had been destroyed because of his failure to act and it had hit his obsession hard. The other ghosts jumped on him exploiting his moment of weakness and while he was able to defeat them he was left with very little power left.
He was dying.
Again.
Danny had to choke back a sob. He was alone, scared, and in pain in an unfamiliar dimension in an unfamiliar city that had a smell bad enough to make raccoons turn thier noses away. He needed to find a way to feed his obsession and fast.
It was at that moment a very obviously drugged and hurt Red Robin came falling out of the sky and landed with a thud before him and promptly passed out.
Danny could work with this.
Dragging the other teen as far as he could (which wasn't far in the halfas sorry state) he settled down with the supposed hero on the front step of a boarded up store and rested the guys head in Dannys lap. Taking a deep breath he pulled out one of his parents weapons that he had personally modified. A laser gun that if turned up to the highest setting would be a death ray and at the lowest would be powerful enough to blast someone down a few city blocks. Anyone who tries anything would be in for a world of pain.
Unfortunately there were a lot of people who saw the downed bird being protected by a frail kid with what looked like a toy gun and came walking up with crowbars and bats, intending to get revenge only to find out that it was very much not a toy.
The most annoying ones were these wierd people who Just. Would. Not. Give. Up.
The one with a blue bird on his chest had almost convinced him that he was the heros friend, up until he let slip that his brother, Red Hood had tried to murder him. He got blasted away after that.
Red Hood didn't even get down from the rooftop before Danny blasted him. He had so much bad ghost vibes that Danny could feel exactly where he was even five miles away. Hood didn't understand why he couldn't sneak up on this kid.
Batman gets the "on sight" treatment and Danny is convinced he's a supervillian.
The Joker gets vaporized in front of the batfam, whose jaws are on the floor, except for Jason who's cheering. (Jason later throws a party) Everyone who has a bat logo on them gets blasted. No one can get close and nothing they do can get the kid away. Its only when Robin appears before the kid that Danny visibly relaxes. When Robin asks how he knew he was Red Robins ally Danny pointed out the matching colors.
Robin did not understand the logic behind it but was happy to get the civilian that had been giving them so much grief to a hospital and drag RR to the med Bay to see why he hadn't woken up yet. But no, it was not meant to be. Danny revealed he was not human and that his injuries were more severe than they first appeared, which said a lot because his white shirt looked mostly brownish red at this point.
Anyway, Danny was a supernatural entity who protected people and fed off of them, creating a mutually beneficial situation. The people he protected turned on him seeking knowledge about his biology via the "science and a knife" method and he barely escaped. Danny is so weak now that if he let's Red Robin go Danny would quickly die, but if he doesn't let Red Robin go, he won't wake up. So naturally Danny is too terrified of dying to let RR go and as a consequence Tim is getting the best sleep of his life
#danny phantom#fanfiction prompts#prompts#dp x dc#danny fenton#batman#robin#tim drake#damian wayne#red robin#bruce wayne#red hood#jason todd#all the highly trained kung fu detectives are stumped on how this kid keeps defeating them#hes not even getting up from the step and they cant get close#tim is having the best sleep of his life and the sweetest dreams#danny is a ball of pure anxiety#he is badly banged up and all bloody#tw: guns#death ray#murder#nightwing is pouting for about half the fic#Jason is already considering Danny to be his new baby brother#tim is going to be so confused when he wakes up
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Sloan's Rosary: Chapter Thirteen
Jordan did not like the idea. In fact, he was fairly positive it was the worst idea to have ever occurred to Sarah. Ever. But after she’d recovered from the previous night’s visitation Sarah had been determined.
“You have unfinished business here, Jordan,” Sarah told him, eyebrows low, “I can’t let you keep cleaning up after me.” She looked over his shoulder and when Jordan followed her gaze Danny was not-so-subtly watching from the window by the front door, “You have to talk to him eventually.”
Jordan snorted, “I don’t think you’re the one to be giving advice just yet.” Sarah stuck her tongue out at him as Saddie pulled up in his truck – a white four door. She flinched when she saw it.
“Talk, Jordan,” Sarah reiterated after a breath, “Talk.” She slowly made her way towards the truck. Saddie got out to throw her bags in the back. And then, as any worried brother would do, he hovered.
Saddie stood directly behind Sarah as she climbed into the passenger seat. She was noticeably shaking, “You sure you’re ok to travel?” She was thin, excessively so, her clothes were swallowing her.
“I’ll be fine, Saddie,” Sarah said as she straightened in her seat, her hands still shaking, “Let’s go.” He closed her door and crossed the front to his own. He met eyes with the man he expected was Jordan. They shared a skeptical look.
“Don’t let her wear the rosary,” Jordan told him, a serious expression on his face. It had Saddie watching Sarah out of the corner of his eye throughout the drive.
Her expression remained a mask with dark circles and a hint of a smile. It was one of her worst if you asked Saddie. Looking underneath was like looking below the earth’s crust. There were layers constantly shifting, pushing against each other. Fear, sadness, confusion – a mixed turmoil shifting like waves over a solid ball of pain.
When Saddie looked at his sister he could see the pain she was in – see the way she was destroying herself over Sloan.
“Do you want to go home first?” Saddie asked her, straightening in his seat. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel as Sarah turned to look at him, “Or do you want to go straight to the hospice to see Abe?”
“I…” Sarah’s mouth hung open as she looked down at her lap. She drew out a familiar rosary. Saddie hadn’t seen it since before Sloan had died. There were still spots with dried blood stains and a pale red tint to the entire strand of pearls.
“Sarah?” Saddie pulled over to park on the side of the two lane road. He watched as Sarah ran her fingers through Sloan’s rosary as he had seen her do with her own growing up, “What’s eating you?”
She shook her head, “Abe, we should go see Abe first.” Sarah looked up at him, sniffling, with the echo of a smile on her face, “That’s why I’m here, right?” Saddie waited a few minutes, eyes narrowed suspiciously on his sister.
Sarah sucked at managing her anxiety – she got excessively fidgety, her eyes would flit between two spots in front of her, never focusing, and her breathing was a few decibels higher at least. So, Saddie waited. He let dozens of cars pass them.
Rose Meadow was only another ten minutes from where they sat. The meadow that surrounded it to the north was visible. The colorful flower buds that usually dotted the meadow were absent. Saddie didn’t know much about flowers, but they were in the tail end of winter now. He’d expected to see the beginnings of color returning like it was back in Alabama.
“Alright,” Sadddie let out a sigh and put the truck back in gear. He drove the familiar streets, taking a few shortcuts to the medical clinic’s parking lot. The hospice was next door. Their parking lot was tiny so backing was pure hell.
Not that the medical clinic was much better.
Saddie walked with Sarah through the halls until they got to Abe’s room. He paused outside the door and turned to look at her. She was still fiddling with the rosary, “Do you want me to go first?”
“Yes.” Sarah was quick on that one. She sat down on the bench in the hallway and stared straight ahead. Saddie had no clue what to do in this scenario. So he just went in. When Saddie saw Abe lying in that bed all the worries about Sarah washed away.
Abe nodded his head in greeting, a toothy smile on his face, “You look a bit winded, kid, maybe you should lie down.” Saddie laughed, taking a seat beside him with a sardonic grin.
“I’ll have you know I drove all night to see you, old man, even picked up Sarah in Houston,” Saddie leaned back in his chair, acting as haughty as he possibly could, “You should be a little nicer, I think.”
Abe shook his head, “And ruin the sixty year streak I’ve had going?” Abe scoffed, “You drove from Alabama, not Alaska.” Saddie chuckled and leaned forward, “How’s your father doing?”
“Came straight here,” Saddie confessed, “Sarah’s a bit…I don’t know. She said here first.” Saddie scratched his hand through his barely there hair. Abe placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Well, tell the stubborn bastard he raised a good son,” Saddie smiled down at the floor, blushing, “And I’ll try not to drink all the beer before he joins me upstairs.” Saddie laughed again, a rock forming in his throat.
Abe looked at the seated man beside him. He’d watched Saddie grow up more than he had his own son. They were closer too. Adam was the definition of a free-spirit. He’d resisted every bit of discipline and structure that Abe had tried to enforce. And with Sloan Abe hadn’t even tried. Abe never understood either of them.
“War changes people,” Abe leaned back into his pillow, eyes on the ceiling, “You always think it’s the people around you that are doing it, but really…” Saddie was looking up at him, eyes wide and curious. “Your father could feel it. He got out after our first tour.”
Saddie tilted his head, “That’s why he got out?” While Abe had freely answered most questions about his service, Gabriel Michaels was always mute on the subject of his military time.
“Yeah,” Abe nodded, mind a few decades in the past, “Thought he was talkin’ silly at first. But after twenty years I turned around, realized I hadn’t seen a deployment or my son in six months.” Saddie kept quiet, “Georgia was right to stay here, to give Adam a bit of stability. I thought the structure of the military would be enough, but…” Abe looked down at Saddie again, a sheepish grin and twinkle in his eye, “She was always right. Bout almost everything.”
They sat there for a while, staring at each other. Abe’s eyebrows raised. Saddie scrunched up his, “What are you trying to say?” Saddie leaned back in his chair again, fidgeting. Abe smiled at the gesture.
“Don’t make my mistakes,” Abe pointed his finger at him, “You’ve asked for war stories and hero-worshipped that uniform since you could toddle your way into my closet, but I was wrong more than I was right when I wore it.”
“Are you telling me to get out?” Saddie scowled, affronted. His spine straightened along with his lips, “I love what I do.”
“Stay in the army another year, another twenty. I don’t care,” Abe’s eyes narrowed on him, “But you make sure it’s not your everything. Find a girl, find a guy, find a hobby.” Abe pointed his finger at him, “I don’t want you to look back and find you’ve got an empty house and a box full of medals. Don’t be me.”
Saddie spent another ten minutes sitting with Abe – avoiding the topic of his social life. The conversation flowed instead through innocuous topics until Abe started coughing.
“I’ll get Sarah,” Saddie got up, worry etched into his face as he watched the old man double over in pain.
In the hallway Sarah sat with her shoulders hunched as she stared at the floor, the rosary wrapped around her white knuckles. Saddie placed a hand on her shoulder and Sarah looked up, “My turn?” Saddie nodded as she stood, Sarah slipped the rosary into her pocket.
His eyes followed the movement. Jordan’ warning still fresh in his mind. For the next half hour Saddie paced the hallway – waiting for Sarah, worrying about Sarah, and generally just wondering what the hell to do about Sarah. It was a hell of lot easier than thinking about what Abe had said to him.
When the pretty nurse walked past him to do her rounds, Saddie smiled at her. She smiled back as she went from room to room. He heard laughter in most of the rooms as she went in and he heard hers as she left on more than one.
“How’s Mr. Acker doing?” the nurse stopped him outside Abe’s door. Saddie did a quick up and down – brown hair, kind eyes, and her name tag said Marigold. He caught her eyes pulling back up as he glanced back to her face.
“He seemed cheerful, Miss Marigold,” Saddie smiled at her again, “He was coughing pretty bad towards the end. My sister’s in with him now.” She nodded approvingly, lips puckering to the side as she thought, “Is he really sick?”
Marigold drew her lips back in, “Are you family?” Her eyes darted to the floor as she frowned, “I’m only allowed to release information to family or his medical power of attorney.” Saddie could tell by her tone it probably wasn’t a positive prognosis, so he didn’t bother pushing it.
“No,” Saddie shook his head, looking down at his feet, “Not family. He’s my dad’s best friend. We’re close. He probably wouldn’t want me to know anyway.”
“He’s quite stubborn,” Marigold pressed a hand to Saddie’s arm and his eyes shot up to hers. He nodded, letting a smile tug at his lips again. It was getting hard to smile though. There was a feeling of sadness washing over him that he couldn’t quite identify.
Saddie focused his attention on the pretty nurse. He hadn’t recognized her. “Are you from Rose Meadow?” Saddie tilted his head to look at her with narrowed eyes.
She laughed at him but nodded, “I moved away when I was eight. Moved back a few months ago to help my aunt with her kids – she just had her second set of twins.” At that, Saddie laughed too.
“That’s unfortunate. My mom always said the hardest part about my sister and I was that we constantly outnumbered her,” Saddie told her, nodding towards Abe’s door, “She and dad always recruited Abe to help keep us in line.”
“Your sister and you are twins then?” Marigold looked to the door as well, “Do you look a lot alike? My aunt had fraternal girls and then identical boys.”
“Alike enough I guess,” Saddie shrugged, looking back at Marigold now, “More so when we were little, before Sarah got glasses.” She kept puckering and then pursing her lips. Her mind worked quick.
Marigold looked up at him, “Is this the same Sarah everyone’s been talking about?” Her eyes were creased in concern while Saddie’s widened in surprise.
“Why would they be talking about her?” Saddie’s voice pitched lower then, almost afraid, “It’s been almost a year since Sloan died. She hasn’t even been to town in months.”
“The meadow,” Marigold offered with a shrug and raised eyebrows, “Because she ran into the meadow after Mr. Acker collapsed. Weird things have been happening ever since.” Her eyes darted to the door, “Everyone thinks she disturbed the meadow.”
Saddie scowled. The meadow. His whole life, and probably long before that, the meadow had been almost sacred. The resting place for the town’s namesake – the founder’s young daughter who died of tuberculosis. Or measles. Or typhoid fever. Or smallpox. It depended on who told the story.
“Mr. Montgomery has been particularly grumpy about it,” Marigold rolled her eyes, “Apparently his bread hasn’t been rising right. And one of the veteran nurses mentioned that there’s been more bad weather the last few months – especially wind over by the meadow.” Marigold smiled, cheeks rounding out, “I don’t think its Rosie that’s been causing it though.”
“Rosie?” Saddie sighed. He’d had such high hopes for this woman too. “You don’t actually believe in all those ghost tales about the meadow being haunted do you?”
Marigold frowned then, “What? You never played in the meadow as a kid? Never saw her?” She seemed quite insulted, crossing her arms and cocking her hip expectantly.
“No,” Saddie put his hands on his hips, “Since ghosts aren’t real I didn’t play with one. And Sarah never let me come into the meadow. She said I’d upset Rosie.”
“Duh!” Marigold threw up her hands, “Rosie only likes girls.” She turned away from him then, spinning on her heels, to go into Abe’s room. She flipped her hair behind her as she went. Saddie scoffed.
It was only a few moments before she came back out. Her eyebrows drawn low and her lips pursed as she waved Saddie over. Marigold pressed another hand to Saddie’s arm as she passed him.
Saddie stopped in the doorway to see Sarah in the chair beside Abe’s bedside.
Her head was bowed, resting against the mattress. Abe was lying motionless, almost like he was asleep. “Sarah?” She looked up at him, eyes empty, “Are you ok?” He took a few steps into the room, “Abe’s gone Sarah.”
Sarah was up and out of her chair before Saddie could register that she was moving. He shouted after her as she pushed him out of the way. And when she didn’t even slow he started running after her.
Marigold and the other nurses at the station at the end of the hall looked shocked as they watched Sarah fly past them.
Despite having considerably more experience running than his exercise-phobic sister, Saddie couldn’t catch up to her. By the time he got to the door of the hospice she was all the way up the street.
This was not a story he would be sharing with his unit when he got back. Being outrun by sister – his less than a hundred pounds soaking wet, probably anorexic, had never run more than a few feet in her life sister. And he’d lost her. In a town of less than 2000 people. He’d lost her.
“Who did I kill in a past life to deserve this?” Saddie grumbled to himself as he made his way back to the hospice. He went straight for his truck. Sarah’s bag, and her phone, was still sitting where she left it on the floorboard on the passenger side.
Apparently he wasn’t so incompetent – it took him less than a minute to break her passcode.
Saddie searched her contact for the one person who might know what the hell was going. Because Saddie was getting answers. Now.
-.-.-
The next chapter is up on my patreon and will be public March 3rd. You can also support me over on ko-fi.
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I am you (and you are me)
For Invisobang 2021. Art by @bibliophilea
On AO3 and Fanfiction.net
Summary: Set post Kindred Spirits. Something has been different since Danny came back from Vlad's and it started when the older half ghost had the tiny clone overshadow him. The half ghost remembers: His own screams. A pain in his inmost being, in his core. A tug back and forth. Being squeezed. A crash, a collision. And then... the blackness of death.
Danny comes back from the experience changed, with the memories of two lives stuffed in his head and new powers. The fire powers are pretty cool but shrinking, often involuntarily, makes him feel weak and vulnerable. All of it, the powers and memories, terrify him as he learns what they mean. And the thought of telling his loved ones...How can the half ghost hope that Jazz, Sam, and Tucker will understand and accept him now when he himself cannot?
Warnings and Tags: Self harm, Identity confusion, Self-Hatred, Ectoplasm and melting clones related gore, Clone Angst, Nightmares, Memory Issues, Involuntary Shrinking. Panic Attacks, Frostbite is Danny’s Icedad. Evil Vlad Masters, Bad Parent Vlad Masters, Split Danny, Ghost Catcher, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual acceptance (by Danny and by his loved ones). Sibling Bonding, Friendship, Danny finally gets a hug.
Note: Welcome to my Invisobang fic! This is a semi-sequel to my story "Nothing and Everything." It's set directly after that story, though assuming an alternative ending. It is not necessary to read the older story to understand this one. All you need to know is, it deals with the aftermath of Danny being overshadowed by one of the clone's in Kindred Spirits and the emotional impact of the experience.
All that being said, big thanks to my amazing artist @bibliophilea for the amazing comic, and for beta reading! Thanks to @welcome-tothe-mystery-shack for your comments and feedback on this story. And finally, a huge thanks to my dearest sister @nervousdragonrebelpie for looking over chapters and listening to me ramble about this story for the past few months. I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without you.
Preview Below:
Chapter 1:
“No! I’m a person. People have names! I have to have a name. I’m not….” A sob tried to break free from his throat.
A knock suddenly rattled the door. “Danny!” Mom called.
Both boy’s heads popped up, focusing on the door. They turned to face each other. “Don’t do this.” The real Danny begged.
“What?” The being asked.
“Every time you get close to the truth, you dream up a distraction.” His eyes widened in desperate panic. “Please don’t-”
Danny’s eyes popped open, a dream swirling in his mind. His heart raced, the sheets sticking to his sweaty body. His brow wrinkled, one shaking hand moving up to rub his aching head. Aching…. He still had that damn headache.
The boy closed his eyes, trying to push the pain away, to coax his heart rate down. He breathed. In and out. In and out. Slowly, so slowly, the throb in his head dimmed, his heart calming. But still, anxiety ate up his insides.
Blearily, the boy opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Dissatisfied, he groaned and rolled onto his side. He clenched and unclenched his fists, balling up the fabric on his bed. His bed. Yes, this was his bed…. Sleeping in a bed was so nice and comfortable but at the same time... something about it felt…. off.
The boy pinched his eyes closed, trying to make sense of the feeling. His stomach flopped. Something was off. Something was different. After today, after he’d come back from Vlad’s, after the man kidnapped him, after the man clo-
Danny cut off the cursed word, his mind refusing. He buried his face in his pillow. Vlad’s. Something had happened, something had.. had changed at Vlad’s but he couldn’t... quite... remember.
It flashed in images. Being locked in a pod. Electrocution. His own screams. Pain. A pain in his inmost being, in his core…. On the bed, Danny’s core throbbed at the thought… A tug back and forth. Then being squeezed. A crash, a collision. And then... blackness.
He’d passed out. Danny knew that much. And he’d woken up at some point later but everything between that and when he had arrived home was a blur.
Confusion. His head swimming. Danielle.. sister… frowning in worry. The hiss of the pod being released. A sigh of relief. An ectoblast. Twisted metal and glass. Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm on his hands, on the floor. Oh god, oh god. He hadn’t meant to do that. He wasn’t... the others weren’t supposed to…. weren't supposed to...
Vlad... Master... Vlad... glaring in pure hatred. “Get behind me.” His ears ringing with a scream. The older halfa being knocked into his shelves. His knees wobbling. He fell and turned human. (Human... why did the fact that he could do that make him so happy?) But then horror. Vlad was still up and moving.
Then Sam and Tucker crashed through, hitting the older man. Locking Vlad (Master) in a pod. He needs... he needs to find Danielle. He needs to find his baby sister. But she’s gone. She’s gone.
His friends’ worried faces. “Danny, you’re not making any sense.” “Hey! Hey! Stay with us!” He wobbled…. where was Danielle?..... falling forward….. Sam and Tucker caught him.
At some point later, he’d woken up on his bed with worried friends and sister who he couldn’t adequately comfort. His head had been pounding and he couldn’t remember what happened to him… and what he did remember made little sense. Sam had checked his eyes; he didn’t have a concussion or any other injuries. With his head throbbing, he’d dismissed the confusion as being from the stress of the kidnapping and electrocution. His friends believed him, though anxiety was plain on their faces. But after a few minutes, his friends had said their goodbyes, leaving him to get some much needed sleep.
But now, the night after, Danny laid on his bed. His headache was gone, his mind clearer. He should feel better yet... his heart was sinking like a stone in his chest. That dream. That dream. That was familiar. So familiar. Like it had really happened. Like... it meant something. And yet…. Danny yawned, sudden tiredness overtaking him. He closed his eyes.
Maybe this was the ramblings of a sleep deprived brain. Yeah, maybe he was just tired. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and everything would be okay. The boy pulled his covers more tightly around himself and fell asleep.
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The next morning, after quickly getting ready for school and rushing off, found Danny at his locker. The boy frowned, wracking his brain. What was his locker combination again? He spun the lock, landing on 25. That was the first number, right? Then….56. And finally….12? The lock clicked and he pulled the door open.
Danny sighed. Why was that so hard to remember? He’d had to open his locker just yesterday. He should remember… but why did that feel like a lifetime ago?
“Hey! Danny!” Tucker’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Danny gasped in surprise. In his chest, his core swelled and his body reflexively flickered invisible. A second later, he reappeared, rubbing his chest.
The next thing he knew, Sam was at his side. “What was that?”
“Yeah.” His technogeek friend took a step forward, voice quieting. “Your powers haven’t slipped up like that in months.”
Danny frowned, shaking his head. “I guess... I guess I’m still kinda shook up after….” He wrapped his arms around himself.
Sam’s face softened, seeming to understand. “Do you feel any better?” She asked kindly.
The halfa’s brow wrinkled. “Well, my headache’s gone.”
“You do look better.” The goth commented, her brow furrowing with worry. “You looked rough last night.”
“Yeah, you were really out of it too.” Tucker frowned. “You kept asking where someone called Danielle was? And for your sister?” Clear confusion rang out in his voice and just a hint of teasing…. “We kept telling you Jazz was at home, covering for us.” as if the idea that he was worried about his older sister, when she wasn’t even involved, was funny.
But something in the recollection made Danny shiver. He remembered worrying about Danielle. But…. sister... he hadn’t been talking about Jazz. He’d been asking about another girl, with blue eyes and-
“Then you passed out.” Sam continued. “And we took you home.”
For a too long moment, his friends looked at him questioningly. Finally, Danny bit his lip. “I think I remember that.”
The confirmation seemed to encourage his friends. “That’s good.” Said Tucker.
Danny wasn’t sure it was. But he had no more time to think on it before the bell rang and they were walking to their first class.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
During lunch period, Danny sat down at their familiar table, the same one as yesterday and every day since the start of freshman year. He placed down his tray and looked over the tables, waiting for Sam and Tucker to join him.
The boy’s brow furrowed. The cafeteria looked the same as every day. The same as yesterday when…. Danielle phasing through the table, a tiny green speck racing passed him…. At the lunch table, Danny’s core pulsed anxiously. Yes, that had happened but at the same time…. Looking back at the two chasing him. Laughing without sound at their fun game.
Danny shivered, feeling cold. He rubbed his chest, nervously.
“Danny?” Someone was waving a hand in front of his face. “Danny? You with us man?”
The halfa blinked and turned, meeting Tucker’s eyes. “Yeah. What’s up?”
“What’s with the spaciness?” Sam said bluntly. She stabbed at her salad. “You were like that all during English too.”
“Was I?” The boy questioned. He shook his head. “Sorry. Just... thinking about stuff.”
His friends gave him worried looks but didn’t question him. Frankly, it was to Danny’s relief. He couldn’t seem to put his thoughts in order. He couldn’t explain this... weird feeling.
The friends chatted for most of the lunch period, Sam and Tucker dominating the conversation with a debate about the newest Doomed update.
All the while Danny idly rubbed at his chest with one hand. He picked at his cheese fries. Normally they were pretty good, but he wasn’t feeling it today. He shivered again, flinching as his fork fell through his intangible hand.
“Again?” Tucker questioned with a raised brow.
Danny didn’t respond, instead picking up his fork only for his core to flare and the utensil to fall through his fingers again. With an annoyed grumble, the boy rubbed his chest again.
“Do you think something’s up with your powers?” Sam quietly asked.
The halfa looked up, frowning. “No... I mean…”
The goth pointed. “Danny, you keep rubbing your chest.”
Danny looked down, brow furrowing. Below his palm, his core pulsed. There was something… strange about the rhythm and…. he adjusted the position, pressing just the smallest bit harder. Normally, it fit comfortably under his palm but now... “It’s... bigger?” He muttered.
“What?” Tucker asked.
Danny lowered his hand. “My core?” He shook his head. “No... I’m imagining it.” His core pulsed unhappily, even as he rubbed his forehead. “I’m just tired, I guess.”
Sam and Tucker again looked like they wanted to argue, but the bell rang and they split up, each hurrying to their next class.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the school day was surprisingly normal. Just his typical classes, without even a ghost fight to interrupt his day. Danny should have felt relieved for such a chill day after what happened last night but yet…. The boy tapped his pencil on his desk. He felt anxious. He must still be shook up, like he told his friends this morning.
Danny bit his lip, shaking the writing instrument in his hand again. It went flying out of his grip and clattered onto the floor. The boy huffed as he bent down to grab it. His hand hadn’t even turned intangible this time.
With that, the boy straightened in his seat. He glanced at the clock. 20 more minutes left in class. Just 20 minutes. Then he could go home and take a nap. He rubbed his eyes. He was still tired after getting back so late. Maybe some sleep would help him feel better.
Soon enough, the bell rang. Danny stood and walked to his locker. This time, he remembered the combination without wracking his brain. He pulled out his books and turned to his friends, who were collecting their own belongings.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Danny said.
“Yeah, see you later.” Tucker replied.
“Call us if something comes up with the ghosts.” Sam frowned. “I’m grounded but…. I’ll sneak out if you need me.”
The technogeek groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m grounded too.”
The halfa looked down guiltily. “Sorry.” He bit his lip. “You guys shouldn’t be grounded because you had to save my sorry butt.”
“It’s fine.” Sam comforted. “We weren’t not going to save you. We’re your friends.”
“Yeah.” Tucker agreed. “It’s just the price to pay for being superheroes.”
Danny half-smiled, though he didn’t much feel like it. He wasn’t much of a hero. Guilt still choked his heart. He hated getting his friends in trouble. But still…. “Thanks for having my back.”
“No problem.” Tucker confirmed.
Then down the hall, someone called his name. “Danny?”
The boy turned. It was his sister, Jazz. He frowned. Oh right, he hadn’t talked to her since he’d been half out of it last night.
The girl quickly approached. “There you are. Come on. I’m driving you home.”
Jazz didn’t give him a choice as she started leading him towards the entrance. Danny waved at his friends, watching their worried faces until he turned the corner.
Less than two minutes later, the pair were seated in Jazz’s car. The girl didn’t start the vehicle, instead turning to face her brother. “Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?”
“I... Uh…” Danny stuttered, trying to collect his thoughts.
“You disappeared during the middle of school. Sam and Tucker said some weird ghost girl showed up. You went off to fight some ghost and the next thing they knew, Vlad was carrying you away.”
The boy crossed his arms. “It sounds like you already know what happened.” He muttered.
Jazz pinned a serious look. “I know Vlad kidnapped you but…. what did he do to you?”
Danny paled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Something happened. You were unconscious when Sam and Tucker got back. And you were super out of it when you woke up. But you weren’t physically hurt. What did Vlad do to you?” His sister pushed.
Danny swallowed, his stomach flopping. “I... I don’t…. It’s fuzzy….”
Jazz rose a brow, her tone suggesting she knew there was more to it. “Danny.”
The boy flinched. “I... he... Vlad electrocuted me?” He remembered. Being locked in a pod, electricity running through him. The creepy hologram of his mom. But... but... there was more.
His sister paled. “Oh... I’m so sorry.” Her voice softened and she didn’t say anything for a while, then… “Do you know why he did that?”
Danny stiffened, looking up. The reason sparked in his mind, with the image. Vlad hissing in front of him, boasting his plan. The man had explained but…. the words stayed just out of reach. Danny's face set in a pointed frown. He shook his head.
Jazz’s own frown deepened. “That little girl…. Sam and Tucker said she looked just like you in ghost form. What does she have to do with all this?”
The boy avoided her eyes, heart fluttering nervously. The little girl.... her face snapped into focus in his mind. Danielle, that was her name. But... there was another word. Started with an S or…. a C. She was like him; she was a clo-
Danny shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. Well…. part of it was right. Danielle had been there. She’d been helping Vlad. She helped the man hurt him; painful betrayal stabbed at him from the thought. But at the same time…
“She helped me. She helped me fight Vlad.” The half ghost said quietly, awed realization sparking as he remembered.
“But… who was she?” Jazz asked, equally quietly.
Just like that, the boy paled again. The word, the cursed word, formed in his mind without his permission. Clone. She was a clone of…. him?... No... that didn’t sound right... he was the same as her but... it had to be true. His frown deepened.
“Who was she?” His older sister asked again.
The boy shivered. “I... I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Danny.” Her voice softened. “You can tell me. It’s-”
“I... I can’t... I don’t wanna talk about it.” He focused on his hands in his lap, trying to keep them from shaking.
“Clearly, whatever happened is bothering you. You can tell me.”
“No. I-” Danny bit his lip, reaching for the door. He couldn’t stay in here with her, couldn’t deal with the questions he had no answers for or rather... questions he couldn’t bear to answer. The… the c word... he couldn’t say it, could barely think it. How could he explain how everything felt wrong, like he wasn’t actually-
“Wait.” Jazz cut off his thoughts. “You don’t have to talk until you’re ready. Just... let me drive you home.”
The boy lowered his hand and slumped back in his seat. “You... you promise? You won’t press?”
His sister’s brow furrowed. Her face was tight, like she didn’t want to agree; but after a long moment, she sighed. “Alright. I promise.”
Danny nodded. “Let’s go then.”
Jazz turned the car on, put it into drive, and pulled out of the parking lot. They drove home in silence. Once they arrived, the boy went straight up to his room. He rubbed his head, flopping down onto his bed. He needed... he needed a nap. Yeah…. That was it. He was still tired.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sister smiled down at him. “Look at this!” The black haired girl held up her crayon drawing. “This is me.” She pointed. “And Muscles. And Bones. And Daniel.” Her smile widened as she tapped at the last figure. “And this is you.”
The being tilted his head. He floated up, placing small hands on the green figure on the paper. He blinked owlishly up at the girl.
The corner of the girl's mouth turned down. She placed down the paper and offered him a crayon. “Come on. You try.”
The tiny being hovered forward, reaching out to touch the crayon. It was so big, almost half as tall as he was. He frowned, trying to understand.
“Make yourself a little bigger and you’ll be able to hold it.” She encouraged. “Come on. You can do it.”
The being scrunched his brow and he stretched. He was about the size of a toddler, maybe two and a half feet tall. He reached out, grabbing the crayon with his slightly larger hands.
“Great.” Sister said. She pushed a fresh piece of paper in front of him. “Now you draw. Like this.” She demonstrated, rubbing the crayon against the paper so color transferred onto it.
The being flopped down, sitting on the floor. Slowly, so slowly, he copied the girl. He traced his drawing instrument over the paper. He scribbled, creating a mess of lines and shapes without meaning or purpose.
Sister smiled proudly anyway. “You’re doing it. Good job, Tiny.”
He beamed, something in him sparking at the praise. He continued scribbling but the image changed into something more purposeful. A house took shape, stick figures. A large man and slimmer woman. A little girl and a little boy.
The little boy giggled at his drawing. His hands were chubbier than before. A toddler’s, instead of the miniaturized version of a teen’s.
“Jazzy!” He looked up, showing off his drawing to the little redhead girl.
His older sister looked up. “That looks great, Danny!” She put her own crayons down, rubbing her sweaty forehead. “It’s so hot.”
The boy suddenly dropped his crayons and drawing. “Outside! Let’s go outside!”
“But it’s hot.” The girl repeated.
The boy was already running off. “Mommy! Mommy! Can we play in the sprinklers?! Please! Please!”
Mommy turned around from where she was making lunch. “After we eat, okay?”
“Okay!” The four year old beamed, already running up the stairs to get his swim trunks.
The next thing he knew, he was outside. Mommy set up the sprinkler. He and Jazzy ran around it, giggling. Daddy came outside with water balloons and Danny let out a happy scream. “Water balloons!”
The little boy grabbed one and threw it at his sister.
Danny blinked awake to bright light on his face. His nose wrinkled. It was still light out? Oh wait, he had been taking a nap. He sat up, yawning and rubbing his forehead. He’d been dreaming again, this time about…. He shivered, remembering. He’d been playing in the back yard with Jazz when he was four. And... he’d been with Danielle. She’d been showing him how to draw.
The boy’s stomach flopped. That didn’t make sense. That hadn’t happened. Maybe... maybe he was thinking about her because Jazz had asked, earlier, when they’d been in the car but... that had felt like a memory.
Dread balled in his gut. He’d been small, smaller than her hand. And then he’d stretched and he was bigger, about the size of a toddler. Danny looked down at his hands, his human, properly sized hands. That, changing his size, wasn’t something he could do but…. In the dream, Danielle had called him Tiny. It didn’t make sense and yet….
He remembered. One of the other clones. The small green one. Danny shivered. That one, that one could shrink. That clone had overshadowed him.
The knowledge hit Danny like a ton of bricks. The tiny clone had overshadowed him. How... how didn’t he remember that until just now? How hadn’t he realized? Danny grimaced, a sickening feeling squeezing his insides. He’d been possessed. Someone else had been in his body, controlling his actions, messing with his mind. The boy wrapped his arms around himself. He felt violated at the thought. That was so wrong. Vlad had ordered one of his clones to overshadow him. And…. more memories of the experience pressed into his mind.
Danny had been semi-aware of the other presence. There had been a fight for control, another core so close to his and…. Memories, thoughts that weren’t his. Flashes of the tiny clone’s memories. And the feeling of tiny hands rifling through his own mind.
Danny pulled his knees to his chest. That must be why he’s felt so off. It was the aftereffects of being possessed. And that dream, the flashes of memory…. he must be remembering what he’d seen and felt from the tiny clone while it had been possessing him.
The boy sighed. But... the feeling would go away eventually, right? It would. He’d felt off after Sidney had overshadowed him as well. It had taken a bit to get used to being in his own body again. And Sidney was more experienced with overshadowing than his clone had been. The ghostly nerd knew how to push Danny’s spirit out of his body, instead of forcing both ghosts to cohabitate. That was why there were strange memories now, unlike last time.
But it didn’t matter. He’d get back to normal soon enough and his friends and sister would have nothing to worry about. Everything would be okay, right?
Danny stood up, rolling his shoulders to stretch. He had homework to do. He sat down at his desk, trying to ignore the way his stomach still flopped.
#Danny Phantom#invisobang#Invisobang 2021#Big Bang 2021#my fic#clone angst#Danny clone#tw selfhate#tw selfharm
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Happy New Year!
I’m your secret Santa @faebiie! I decided to write a fic that incorporated both themes you requested: angst and Danny and Clockwork bonding. I hope you like it!
Danny’s fingers fidgeted nervously as he stared blankly at the floor. He sat at the edge of his bed, having woke up from his blaring alarm thirty minutes ago. His hair was a knotted mess from all his anxious tugging, tufts of hair twisting and turning in awkward directions. Dark bags encircled his eyes, hinting that he hadn’t slept in the past week or so.
Today marked the fourth anniversary of Danny’s accident, but also the day he swore to tell his parents his secret. He’d been dreading this moment for so long. Danny knew his parents wouldn’t mind the fact that their child was half ghost, as they hadn’t in alternate timelines where he accidentally revealed himself, but he was still terrified at the mere notion of them knowing. There always existed that slight possibility that they might reject him. He hoped the chance was slim.
Jazz was fine with his secret. Within a few months after the accident, she stumbled upon Danny transforming and secretly aided him until it became imperative to tell him that she knew. Yet throughout, Jazz had always been supportive of him, so there was no reason for his parents not to, right? Wrong.
The Fentons parents were notorious for being the ultimate ghost hunting duo. Maddie, of course, was the brains of the operation, however, Jack did not fall short behind. Together, they made several breakthroughs in the realm of paranormal science, a field that had been regarded as pseudoscience till the Fentons came along. The duo firmly believed that ghosts were inherently sinful formations of post human consciousness. In essence, to Jack and Maddie, ghosts were abominations; objects that needed to be eradicated. Moreover, there was one ghost in particular that they absolutely despised, and that, by pure coincidence, had to be Danny.
Over the past four years, Phantom, Danny’s ghost persona, had become quite famous in the quaint town of Amity Park. By now, the majority of the town viewed Phantom as a hero since he stopped ghosts from attacking harmless humans on a daily basis. The Fenton’s, on the other hand, had convinced themselves that Phantom’s true intentions were to destroy the town once he’d gained their trust. And while initially, the Fenton’s had been working towards terminating all ghosts, over time the duo has gradually lessened their hatred and become more open to the notion of ghosts as they now constitute daily life.
It might seem like inappropriate timing for Danny to tell his parents, but he knew he’d feel guilty if he didn’t sooner or later. He spent his entire high school shielding his true self from his parents and now that he would be off to college soon, he felt it fitting for them to know the real him. Plus, he’d definitely get made fun off by Sam and Tucker if he didn’t go through with his plan. For the past week, his friends had been hyping him up, ensuring him that his parents would be supportive and that he needn’t worry. Tucker even calculated that the likelihood of his parent’s supporting him was 90%. All Danny could do was worry about that 10%.
Letting out a groan, he swiftly laid back into his bed, closing his eyes. He tried to steady his breathing. In two, three, four. Out, two three four. He might’ve sat there for eternity, hoping to be engulfed by his bed and taken anywhere but here, but he was so rudely interrupted by Jazz’s knocking.
“Good morning Danny!” she said from behind the door to his room. “Come downstairs for some breakfast. Mom made your favorite!”
Bacon and eggs sounds so good right now. The thought of a nice breakfast pulled him into a sitting position, yet he was still hesitant to walk. Getting breakfast meant seeing his parents. Seeing his parent’s meant talking. Was he ready to talk? Absolutely not, but he needed to for his own sake.
Finally mustering up a bit of courage, Danny stood up, and headed towards the bathroom. He began brushing his teeth and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. To put it briefly, he looked like shit. All this worrying had put him in a terrible physical state. He needed to get this done with and finally feel free.
As he finished up, Danny went back to his room, put on a shirt, and headed for the stairs. He reached the end of the hall and paused before going down, feeling a tight ball of anxiety forming in his chest. He stared at the carpet as if it were the source of all his worries. There was so much doubt in his decision, but he could also smell the sizzly aroma of bacon. And god, was he hungry.
He grabbed the railing beside him and slowly made his way down the stairs, one step at a time.
“Hey Danny!” called his mom’s voice from the kitchen after hearing his soft steps. “Come sit down, I’ve got your plate waiting for you.”
“Danno!” a bellowing voice belonging to his dad interrupted Maddie. “I knew you wouldn’t resist!”
Hesitantly, Danny walked towards the kitchen, not making eye contact with anyone. He sat in his usual seat at the dinner table, a plate stacked with his favorite food. He so badly wanted to snatch the plate and run to the safety of his room before anyone could speak. Around him, Maddie was in the kitchen making another batch of scrambled eggs. Jack and Jazz were seated at the table with Danny, eating away at their food. Although, Jack was simultaneously building some sort of ghost contraption.
“How’d you sleep sweetie?” Maddie asked.
Danny, having begun eating with a spoonful of eggs in his mouth, choked with wide eyes at the sudden question. He wasn’t ready to speak yet. Let me eat first!
“Good” he muffled in reply.
“Looks like you haven’t slept in days,” Jack remarked as he glanced away from his machine towards his son.
Jazz gave him a playful slap. “Dad, manners!”
“Whaaat? I’m just tellin’ the truth.” Jack gleefully smiled and returned to his food.
Danny brushed off the comment and continued to eat his food. Dad isn’t wrong, Danny thought. His heart was racing in his chest, anticipating an unfavorable conversation. He might’ve been eating too quickly as it garnered attention from his family.
“Woah slow down there Danny.” Maddie said as she brought the latest pan of cooked eggs from the kitchen to the dining table. Jack eagerly took a plateful. “You don’t want to choke.”
“‘’m good,” he repeated with food stuffed in his mouth.
“Anyway your dad and I are planning on spending the day in the lab if it’s alright with you kids. We’re so close to perfecting the Fenton Bazooka.” Maddie began washing the dishes.
Jazz stood up and left her finished plate next to the sink. “Sure mom. Danny and I will be fine.” Maddie smiled in reply as Jazz left for her room upstairs.
Once Jazz was gone, silence ensued as everyone carried on with their own tasks. Maddie washing the dishes, Jack tinkering and eating, and Danny finishing his breakfast. The mood was peaceful for everyone except Danny. His heart was pounding in his chest because sooner or later he had to say something. Shoving in the last bits of egg in his mouth, he could feel his heart quicken. It’s pace grew faster and faster, to a point where he felt his heart may as well explode out of his chest.
You have to do it. You’ll regret it if you don’t.
Just... SAY IT!
“Mom! Dad!” Danny said a bit too loudly, causing his parents to turn to his voice with odd looks “...I have something to tell you.” He kept his gaze focused on the empty plate before him. Was this really happening?
Maddie then suddenly lit up. “Oh Danny, I totally forgot! Would you like some more breakfast? We’ve still got some left.”
Danny shifted in his seat, not expecting that answer. He gripped the edge of his chair, feeling like he might fall over. Why are my palms so sweaty? “N-no it’s not that. It’s-”
“You sure? You never pass down your favorite breakfast!” Jack said with a side glance.
“Yea I’m s-sure.” Danny was tripping over his words. It was as if time was passing far quicker than how long it took him to formulate his thoughts. What was he supposed to say again?
“What I wanted to say was-” he paused. Danny felt weaker than ever. His grip on his chair tightened as he shut his eyes and attempted to center himself. He couldn’t. He did but didn’t want them to know. What if- what if-
JUST SAY IT ALREADY.
“I’m Danny Phantom.” the phrase came out like an exhale. Danny didn’t want to open his eyes.
No, that was a lie. He did want to open his eyes and see their reaction. He just wished he hadn’t.
Looking up from his plate, he first locked eyes with his dad. Jack’s face was as if he’d been hit with a blow. The normally boisterous man had been reduced to a mere shell of shock. Danny couldn’t discern what his dad was thinking.
Danny next glanced at Maddie. Whose brows were furrowed and eyes glued to the plate in her hand. The sink was still running. After a moment, she resumed her cleaning and turned to Danny with a smile.
“Heh, funny joke. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that you share first names with a scum like him, Danny.”
Jack quickly looked at Maddie, confusion etched into his features. “Mads…”
Danny, at the same time, also confused, looked at his mom. “I- I’m not-”
“Mads think about it.” Jack interrupted in an unusually soft voice. His unfocused gaze hadn’t moved from Danny. He stopped tinkering and slowly sank back in his seat. “It… it would make perfect sense.” Maddie now turned off the sink and turned towards her husband, crossing her arms.
“Jack, there is no way in hell our son is also a ghost. It is scientifically impossible.”
“...mom.” Danny shrank in his seat when his mom looked at him. He couldn’t tell her now. There’s no way she’d react the way he hoped. But… he would never forgive himself if he didn’t tell them. It took every fiber in his being to not turn invisible and flee. His heart picked up pace again as he averted his gaze to his hands which were now fidgeting in his lap. “I’m not lying. Please don’t get mad but b-back when u guys were building the portal, I was snooping around the lab like an idiot and I-I accidentally turned it on while I was inside.” Danny explained with a barely audible voice.
“It would make so much sense.” Jack mumbled. “The portal activation… why our gadgets go off around Danny… why Phantom’s always got Fenton tech.” Danny hadn’t expected his dad to accept it so readily.
“Jack, you can’t be serious…” Maddie’s voice trailed off as if lost in deep thought.
“I- I can show you. I’m half ghost...” Danny couldn’t believe what was happening. This wasn’t what he expected. They were supposed to accept it and move on. No questions, no jokes. Then why were they so confused? There was no way this would end nicely. Danny could feel his anxiety crawling back and settling at the pit of his stomach. He wanted to curl up into a ball so badly.
It seemed Danny had been lost in thought for too long. He missed the moment his parents both locked eyes and came to an understanding.
In one swift move, Maddie pulled two ecto blasters from her jumpsuit while Jack followed suit. In a single second, the both were standing side by side with their weapons aimed at their only son.
Danny jumped back in his chair at the sudden change of attitude. It caused him to tip over and fall to the ground with his back now against the floor. His eyes were wider than ever shifting between his parents and their guns.
“I can’t believe you’ve tricked us thus far, spook.” Maddie spoke as if her words were laced with venom. “Where’s Danny?!” Maddie nudged her head to Jack who took off running down to the basement.
His heart raced even faster. Hands shaking. “M-mom. What do you mean? I’m Danny!”
Maddie spoke in an unnaturally calm tone. “As if we’d fall for that. How long have you been hiding our son?!”
“N-no no. Please. I’m telling the truth. I AM DANNY!” he shouted from the floor. “S-see look!” he gestured his hand along his frame. “It’s Danny! Please, I can show you Phantom.” He pulled his feet towards him, ready to stand up, but rather got interrupted.
Maddie took a step forward, cocking the guns in her hand. “NO! Stay where you are and don’t come any closer. Don’t you DARE claim you’re my son. You’re nothing but a bunch of of... ectoplasm!” Her emotions began to show through her calm facade.
At that moment, Jack came rushing up the stairs, large weapon in hand. “That’s right, spook. The bazooka may not be finished but that doesn’t mean it's not gonna hurt.” He aimed the gadget at Danny.
“Answer me. H-how long?!” Maddie’s voice quivered slightly.
Danny was horrified to speak. They really wouldn’t shoot him, would they? “I-I’ve been half ghost for four y-years now…” he barely managed to say. “I’ll show you…”
He found that cold feeling deep within his chest and let it surround him. Two blue rings encircled his waist and one traveled to his head while the other to his toes. As the ring passed, his raven locks were replaced with a silvery white sheen. His pajamas became the iconic black and white jumpsuit. His eyes, when opened, went from their baby blue to electrifying neon green. He’d become Phantom.
Maddie and Jack hadn’t said a word. Their goggles, which were now over their eyes, masked what they were truly thinking. Their weapons were still trained on their son, but their posture seemed to stiffen as if they were in shock. All this time, Phantom had hidden among them.
Danny dared to look up at his parents who still stood silent. He couldn’t take the silence. “S-see?... say something...”’
Instead of words, Jack chose to reply with the whine of an ectoblast.
Jazz chose the moment to make her appearance as she walked down the stairs. “Why are you guys so loud…” Her eyes swept the room and landed on her little brother's ghost form. He turned to look at her voice, raw fear seeping through every inch of his features and eyes brimming with tears. It took Jazz a moment to understand the situation, but she was too late.
“Danny!” Jazz sped towards her brother as a crackling green ray fired from Jack’s weapon, making its way towards Danny and hitting him squarely on the chest. Danny flung back into the wall, clutching his chest with one arm which burned so very badly. He could feel every nerve in his chest searing with pain. It was worse than any blast he’d received before.
His breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t fight back. They were… they were his parents! Why would they hurt him? Why… why couldn’t they understand?
Jazz was now sitting next to her brother, shocked at the sight of the nasty, bubbling burn. “What did you do?!” she shrieked at her parents.
“Jazz get away from that- that thing! He’s brainwashed you!” Maddie cried as she rounded the table and grabbed Jazz by the arm.
“N-no STOP IT! You’re hurting Danny!” Jazz wrenched her arm under her mom's grip, but her attempt was poorly made as she was pulled towards Maddie right as Jack fired a second blast from the gun. Tears freely flowed from Jazz’s turquoise eyes. Danny had zero time to react before-
Before the blast had frozen in thin air a foot before him. No, that wasn’t true, everything froze. His parents and Jazz. They were all still. What?
Danny felt the coolness of a time medallion on his neck. Suddenly, a swirl of blue appeared before Danny and out came a familiar specter.
“I normally don’t interfere with the events of time, but you seemed like you needed it.”
Danny’s breath came out raspy “...Clockwork?”
The master of time nodded with a smile and outstretched his hand. “Come my boy. Before the Observants find out.”
With one hand still clutching his chest, Danny took Clockwork's hand and stood up shakily. The blue swirls encompassed the two as they were transported to the ghost zone. Specifically, to the living room within Clockwork’s lair.
Danny took a deep breath as he gradually took a seat on the couch behind him. His head was pulsing and the pain from the ecto ray hadn’t subsided. Around him, several clocks and gears lined the wall, all ticking or moving synchronously. Before him sat numerous screens displaying several different events surrounding him. What he was witnessing went beyond any imagination.
“I had to interfere for your own good.” the master of time said as he floated into the room with a first aid kit in hand. He pulled out a burn ointment and began catering to Danny’s wounds. Danny hadn’t noticed, but at some point, he had transformed back to his human self. Danny hissed at the feeling of the cream on his wound.
Clockwork looked up and followed the halfa’s gaze to the screens. “What you’re seeing is the various alternate timelines in which you reveal your secret to your parents at this point in time. In all scenarios, they don’t take it, uh, lightly.”
Danny couldn’t believe it. On one screen, his parents were chasing after him around the city. In another, they had him strapped to a table. Before he could watch some more, Clockwork shut them off.
“I’m going to be blunt, but unfortunately, no matter the circumstance, your parents never accepted you in this moment of time.”
Danny hadn’t averted his gaze from the screens yet. He was still in awe of it all. The alternate timelines, his parents, the blast. He managed to squeak out one word. “Why?”
“Their puny human minds can’t comprehend the duality of your being.” Clockwork said as he now took out a set of bandages from the kit and began wrapping it along the boy’s torso. “Thus they reject you.”
“Y-you can’t be serious.” My parents? Hating me? “...impossible.”
“You witnessed it for yourself. They hurt you. Was that not enough?”
“N-no. They're my parents! They’re supposed to love me no matter what!”
Clockwork got up, slightly angered, unlike his collected self. “You call that love?!”
“I-” Danny was at a loss of words. No matter what Clockwork told him, he couldn’t wrap his head around his parents not believing him. It all felt like one sick joke. He wanted to throw up. Despite the horror of the situation, there was still one question gnawing at him. “W-why are you helping me?”
Clockwork turned so his back was facing Danny and paused. “I cannot let you suffer. Especially after everything you’ve done for our realm... You didn’t deserve the destiny given to you. After all, you were only fourteen when you received your powers. My interference was merely nothing compared to what you’ve dealt with. Your kind is so rare as well. I cannot let you perish.”
It was odd of clockwork to act so carelessly. Risking his position as the master of time just to save a teenage boy with paranormal powers was, well, weird. But from what Danny had heard just now, it seemed that Clockwork was firm in his decision.
At this point, Danny didn’t want to think anymore. His brain felt like mush from all the events that had transpired. Mom. Dad. Jazz… what were they doing right now? What were they thinking of him? Did they really believe he was-
“Get some rest. I’ll bring you some food when you awaken.” Clockwork said.
Danny decided it was best to follow Clockwork's orders so he managed a mumble as he lowered himself into a sleeping position on the couch. “Mmm?”
Clockwork floated next to the boy and patted his raven matted hair. “Sleep well Daniel.”
Danny quickly dozed off on the blue sofa, unaware he had found his new family. <3
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Famous People with Epilepsy
Prince John of the UK: He was the 5th son and youngest child of King George V and Queen Mary. He was diagnosed in 1909 and most likely had autism as well. After he was diagnosed, he was forced into seclusion, under the excuse that being in public was 'too risky for his health.’ In reality, the king and queen feared their reputation should John have a seizure in public and deemed him ‘not presentable to the outside world.’ Puberty caused his seizures to intensify, and at the age of 13, he died in his sleep from a severe seizure, most likely status epilepticus.
Harriet Tubman: When Harriet Tubman was a teenager, a slave owner hit her in the head, causing a traumatic brain injury. Afterwards, she developed temporal lobe epilepsy and started having seizures. The 2019 movie ‘Harriet’ has an incredible portrayal of Harriet Tubman’s seizures and epilepsy. In general, its a wonderful movie, despite taking the usual Hollywood artistic creative freedoms. Highly recommend.
Prince: Prince was diagnosed with epilepsy as a child, and compensated by putting all of it into his music. The song Purple Rain was about his seizures and his epilepsy.
Lil Wayne: Lil Wayne has Epilepsy and frequent seizures due to stress and overwork. He was hospitalized in 2017 after having three seizures in a row which lowered his heart rate activity to 30%. Take breaks and rest, folks!
Danny Glover: Most likely known for The Color Purple and The Lethal Weapon series, Danny Glover also has Epilepsy. He was diagnosed at 15, and his seizures are frequently accompanied by an aura which he says comes ‘in an unbearable noise I would hear.’ He has been seizure free since he was 35.
Hugo Weaving: Most likely known for his roles as Elrond in LOTR, he also has Epilepsy! He was diagnosed as a teenager, and had seizures at least once a year. He’s been seizure free for 18 yrs, but he still doesn’t drive because of his Epilepsy. Unrelated to his bio, but my fav quote by him is this one, “People always thought I was laid back, but I was basically doped for 30 years on epilepsy drugs. I ran out of my meds filming in the desert and went cold turkey. I was on a moderately high dose and it was masking a nervous anxiety I didn’t know I had”. XD But as a super laid back person who’s been on epilepsy meds since the age of 4, it makes me wonder what my true personality is. Hmmmm....
Joan of Arc: Given that she lived in the 15th century, its difficult to determine for certain if she had epilepsy. HOWEVER, having written a paper on her for my history degree that specifically focused on her seizures, I can say for certain that the voices in her head, the images she described which isn’t specific images but bright balls of light, the age of onset(age 13), all those factors are a textbook description of an auditory simple partial seizure. So most likely, she had temporal lobe epilepsy and in pure 15th century style, they chalked it up to the Lord and Angels.
And that’s only to name a few! There’s also Patsy Custis Washington(George Washington’s step daughter), Theodore Roosevelt, Rosemary Kennedy, Rick Harrison from Pawn Stars, Alan Faneca from the Steelers, Broze Medal Olympic Hockey Player Chanda Gunn, Cameron Boyce from Disney Channel, just to start.
So keep in mind, my fellow Epilepsy Warriors, if they can battle their brain and come out top, so can YOU!
#susan talks#epilepsy#seizures#famous people#epilepsy awareness month#epilepsy awareness#epilepsy warrior
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hello!!! i am a big fan of your writing & how you depict very raw emotions, i always feel like i'm right there in the moment :}}} i'm writing a whump series & i wanna glean as much advice from as many good writers as possible!! advice as to how to write better (effective) panic attacks, especially if its from a stoic used-to-punishment whumpee who doesn't express a lot Emotion?? i appreciate it!! (p.s. are you open to getting asked writing advice in general?) thx!! - newbornwhumperfly
CW: Frank discussion of panic attacks/anxiety/PTSD
I actually get a lot of writing advice asks! You can see my answers to other questions here on my #writing advice tag!
I think people tend to rely heavily on a certain kind of panic attack, including me - obvious panting or breathing hard, curling up into a ball, covering vulnerable areas. Racing heart, shaking/trembling, racing thoughts, disjointed or disconnected thought processes that jump quickly
That may not be the kind of panic attack that suits your whumpee, though! Consider writing them growing outwardly calmer and more capable, even as a sense of pure impending doom settles within their chest. Especially with a stoic whumpee who is used to suppressing any outward emotions, it may not come naturally to them to show panic, and what may happen instead of an internal monologue that is just [WORDLESS SCREAMING] while outwardly they continue to function at close to normal or even become hyper-effective and efficient to cover up their mindset.
Symptoms of panic attacks include but are not limited to:
A sense of impending doom (this is such a specific emotion/physical sensation and it is such a huge anxiety thing. You literally physically feel as though everything is about to fall in on your head RIGHT THIS SECOND YOU ARE GOING TO DIE GO GO GO only nothing is actually wrong and there’s nowhere TO go)
Fearing that you’ve lost control of your own body or you are going to die right now now now now
Rapid heartrate, pounding heart
Cold or hot sweats, feeling sweat break out even in a chilly place or cold room
Trembling, shaking throughout the extremities or body
Chills and/or hot flashes, a sense of sudden temperature change regardless of the actual temperature of your location
Nausea/vomiting
Abdominal cramping or chest pains, often sharp (many people believe they are having a coronary event/heart attack when they have panic-attack chest pains)
Headache, either dull and throbbing or sharp or stabbing both can happen
Dizziness, lightheadedness (NOT the same as dizziness!), or feeling faint
Feeling numb, or like your limbs are tingling/fingers or toes feel tingly
Dissociation - a feeling of unreality, detachment from the world or environment around you
Intrusive thoughts - these don’t show up often in lists of panic attack symptoms but I know that during my worst panic attacks, I start to get really bad intrusive thoughts that cycle over and over again until I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind. While they don’t go away entirely during my daily life (I still struggle with intrusive thoughts as part of my anxiety disorder), I am more able to deal with them when I’m not actively in a panic attack. During a panic attack, though, I am totally at the mercy of whatever doomsday scenario my brain has started to feed me.
Repetitive behaviors - this is another that doesn’t show up on a lot of panic attack lists, but it’s something I have seen in myself and others. Especially with PTSD-related panic attacks, you may see someone falling into behaviors they learned in, say, the military or another situation in which a coping mechanism becomes muscle memory. An army vet I know, for instance, would often find himself essentially patrolling his yard during panic attack because he couldn’t calm himself down unless he did.
Panic-stims - listen, stimming to soothe during a panic attack is honestly a fairly widespread thing that we often call a “nervous habit” or something like that when explaining it to ourselves or others later. But consider - rocking back and forth, chewing on their fingernails, insistently pulling on hair or twisting a button back and forth or rubbing fingers over its surface. Self-soothing behavior during a panic attack is incredibly common. Danny, for example, rubs insistently at his scars when he is panicking to soothe himself. Chris (who is autistic) falls into self-harming negative stims if his panic is pushed too far, like scratching at himself or hitting his head repetitively into a wall.
On the other hand, going very very still! Often, people who are panicking aren’t immediately recognized as doing so because they DON’T have an obvious response. Nate’s panic attacks sometimes simply equal him going very very silent and still, which is easy to miss.
One thing I do, since I tend to write in third-person character POV (I write, for example, “Chris thought” or “Danny thought” but only write one person’s perspective per drabble most often, so it’s not omniscient or all-knowing) is start having my POV character’s thought fragment, become broken or run on endlessly, cycling past the same thoughts (intrusive, usually) over and over again as they begin to break down.
Speed up their thoughts, scatter sentence fragments. Write with the same urgency and speed as the individual who is panicking. If you write someone panicking in a stately, slow pace, it won’t read as panic. It won’t read as something genuinely happening to your character. Pace is everything when it comes to writing a breakdown. People fall apart, as they say, slowly and then all at once. But in our own minds, it can feel like an avalanche, and it works best I think, personally, when written as an avalanche and not a slowly running river.
Hope this helps!
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SHIT MY DND GROUP SAYS: A SENTENCE MEME
“ ______ did a fucky wucky. “
“ i am the shakespeare of our time. “
“ ______ has nice feet send tweet. “
“ the power of gay has saved me. “
“ thank you my meat is huge. “
“ do this make me a brat? :/ “
“ ________’s daddy issues entered the chat. “
“ and it’s absolutely 100% not because i’m gay. “
“ why is it babysitting when you don’t sit on babies though? “
“ fuck yeah! crispy. “
“ love me a crispy hedgehog. “
“ i’m gonna sacrifice my egg. “
“ the bird has _____ in its feetsies. “
“ fists out tits out. “
“ i can be your shooter or i can be your smoke wagon. “
“ oh fuck there’s ptsd here. “
“ both of you get in the horny corner. “
“ look it’s a bird. stop crying. “
“ why are they sucking the enemies but not me!? “
“ i didn’t give _____ daddy issues! “
“ i wasn’t trying to get it up my ass! “
“ i’m coming for your toes. “
“ i shove ______ under the rug. not THAT rug. “
“ _______ is my self-insert oc. “
“ yum yum yum meets slurp slurp slurp when? “
“ i’m trying to connect the dots and don’t need you being horny right now. “
“ because they FUCKED. “
“ it’s the ‘getting kidnap and watching a lady do freaky shit to you’ kinda numb. “
“ long boi IS the soup. “
“ can you believe that _____ tried to fist a big snake today? “
“ ring ring top me off on the sanity juice. “
“ am i a robot because i’m not from america? “
“ he’s just a little bit toasty. “
“ jiggle physics, but beer belly. “
“ you can’t hit me if i keep spamming square-- oh wait never mind. “
“ do you ever get ______ to impale you so you feel real again? “
“ can i get a dex save... from a piece of wood? “
“ this is my stab wound. i call him phil. “
“ i just think, toasty hug. “
“ i just want to run over the shiny things and pick them up. “
“ excuse you i’m not a sir, i’m a bitch. “
“ you are literally a monster energy drink on crack. “
“ one second just need to contact god. “
“ oh. they’re all dead. “
(base boosted) “ it is the chosen sock! “
“ i would do it but, you know, i’m a twink. “
“ your twink is better off without him. “
“ why are you breaking into an orphanage? “
“ because i want the LOOT. “
“ trees are sentient. they said fuck you. “
“ another round like that but with less anxiety. “
“ i am the only one with a degree here, therefore i am correct. “
“ feel like pure shit just want my clown nose back on. “
“ i did it i killed _____. you’re welcome. “
“ i just realized the word constitution has tit in the middle of it. “
“ ______ got the beat shit out of him. “
“ big muscly beefcake strength. “
“ i have to kill danny devito. “
“ come to ______ where the water’s spicy. “
“ feel like pure shit just want my arms back. “
“ get up kid we have an oppressive government to overthrow. “
(distraught) “ why is he so big!? “
“ so no titty? “
“ discount hugh jackman’s ass. “
“ hold on i’m gonna do something-- oops. “
“ it has ripely balls! “
“ they’re assholes but in vaporwave. “
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It is time to torture the poor boi, requesting Dwight getting stabbed, a lot and/or him not having his glasses for a trial. (The heckling dweety boi)
me: i love dwightalso me: writes a ficlet of dwight being absolutely destroyed
Dwight Fairfield x Reader | Sacrifice
Warnings: Angst, hecka blood, hecka violence, death, no happy endings, this is lowkey brutal i’m sorry
Your knees buckled. The grass did little to prevent the shock-wave rippling through your legs as you hit the ground. Pitiful sobs bubbled out as you blindly reached out for him, tears clouding you vision.
His shaking hands found your cheeks. A thumb brushed the droplets of water from your eyes and you looked up to find those dark eyes unreadable. He smiled; though there was nothing joyous about it. The quirk of his lips read only the melancholic tone to his plan. You knew what he was doing, and you refused to let him.
Desperately, you reached out to ball his shirt into your fists. You tried to get up, but your legs quivered in protest. Your shin scraped across the rusted metal hatch beside you that lay so tauntingly close, refusing to open for the two of you. If only you’d had a key.
Dwight pulled your jaw up, forcing you to look him in the eye. Words of refusal danced across your thoughts, but you could not speak. His eyebrows furrowed and he pressed his forehead against yours. You felt a wisp of breath ghost across your lips.
“As soon as it’s open,” he told you, a shake in his voice. “You jump in.”
You shook your head. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. Lips trembling, you dared deny his command. “N-No! I can’t! We’re going to-”
Your words caught in your throat as his eyes opened. He was usually so nervous; so caught up in his anxieties that you could see the very haze of panic in his iris. But not now. His gaze was sharp. Despite the threatening, solemn tear that clung fearfully to his lashes, his eyes were intense and serious. He couldn’t be swayed.
He fumbled. His hands pressed into your cheeks and he pulled you as close as he could humanly manage. The bridge of his glasses dug into the slope of your nose, but you found that it was worth it for intimacy. His lips fluttered above your own. Warm. He was… Warm.
When he tried to pull away, you stubbornly chased after him. The desire to keep him and somehow change his mind controlled your movements. You pressed into him, a quivering kiss upon his lips that begged him to reconsider.
You could taste blood on his tongue. Iron clung to his lips; a metallic tang that almost made you recoil. The salt from your tear-stained cheeks did nothing but add a bitter tinge that didn’t suit the cushion of his lip. You could not pull away from him; your body fighting to pull him closer.
A distant thrumming bounced around your skull. The sudden pounds of terror seemed to ignite a paroxysm of urgency in him. An involuntary whimper crept out of you as he furiously peppered needy little kisses across your lips and up your cheek. He softly pressed his mouth to your closed eyelid. You couldn’t be sure whether the pounding in your heart was louder than the thrumming in your head, or vice versa. Everything was drowned out. You heard his breath, your choking sobs, the near-silent patter of his lips against your skin.
Dwight was wrenched from you without warning.
You screamed, tripping over yourself as you tried to reach out for him. His eyes were wild with fear as he desperately attempted to grab your hand, but he managed to brush his fingertips lightly against yours. A silhouette loomed over him; dark clothes and a ominous, skull-faced mask. A gloved hand gripped his ankle and dragged him back.
He clawed at the dirt, looking up to you in pure terror. You bit back a sob as your eyes met the soulless sockets of The Ghostface’s pale, screaming mask. The killer was looking at you; and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was smiling. He was enjoying this. There was not a thing you could do.
Danny dropped to the ground, knees digging into Dwight’s sides as he sat down on his victim’s back. You quivered, begging him the man to stop, but your pleas fell upon deaf ears. You saw Dwight’s mouth quirk up into a smile, a sliver of his tooth poking of his lip. He was telling you that it was okay. He knew what he was signing up for.
It wasn’t okay.
The Ghostface was looking directly at you as he brought his blade down for the first time, making sure you were watching. It ripped through Dwight’s shoulderblades with a sickening crunch, digging into flesh. You let out a sob, your body seizing up in terror. Dwight screamed, gritting his teeth and digging his nails into the soil.
The blood-lusting figure tore the knife from its place in Dwight’s flesh. Danny curled the knife in his fist and wasted only a moment to peer at your terrified reaction, before bringing it back down with a flourish. The tip squeezed between Dwight’s ribs and presumably burst into a lung. He was sobbing. His dark eyes met yours, a spatter of dirt on his glasses and fresh tears clinging to his cheeks. He choked, a thick spurt of blood flowing out of his mouth and over his chin.
Danny wasn’t finished. He wrenched out the blade and clasped both of his gloved hands around the hilt. The pits of his eyes found your face as he rose up, readying himself to deal a final strike. The ethereal tendrils of sinister fabric coiled in the air like ghostly snakes and a flash of moonlight danced across the gleam of his blade.
You trembled, but it was nothing compared to the pain you were seeing before you. Dwight’s shoulders spasmed as he tried so desperately to force air into his punctured lung, a weak gurgle of blood and spit bubbling out of him. Your heart wrenched. Your stomach churned and your body lay frozen, quivering in the dirt. Fear held you captive in thick, heavy claws, and you could do nothing but watch the horror show.
The blade violently rammed between the vertebrae of Dwight’s spine. You heard a crunch. Dwight wailed and grit his teeth, fingers clenching painfully into the old dirt. Stray stone wedged beneath his nails and pierced the skin as he clawed at the ground with futility. You were shaking.
Danny leaned on the hilt, pressing the knife as far in as it could manage. Flesh and muscled ripped to meet the morbid intrusion, and Dwight gasped for air. His neck collapsed in, his forehead only briefly hitting the soil before Danny had wrapped his fingers into the man’s hair.
Dwight’s torso was pulled up to look at you. You saw the fading light in his eyes as he sluggishly blinked, hiccuping up a stream of blood that pooled below his head at your feet. Danny pulled tighter, fetching an old camera from the folds of his cloak. You wept in terror; in loss, in horror, as The Ghostface angled his lens to include you in his morbid selfie.
“Smile for the camera, sweetheart,” the murderer rasped, an undertone of vile chuckles vibrating through the muffle of his mask. You quivered, heart pounding as you sobbed, staring down into the unfocused, dying light in Dwight’s eyes.
The camera flashed. Dwight’s irises twitched under the shock, hazily trying to find you behind the blur that clouded his vision. He tried to say something. Lips twitched to form indecipherable words as fresh slivers of sanguine fluid dripped down his sickeningly pale face to join the steadily growing lake of gore below him.
He was barely breathing as Danny’s grip relented. Dwight’s face hit the dirt with a unceremonious thump, and you startled up to meet the killer’s blank eye sockets. The man cackled, a crude sound that almost entirely overpowered the last few heaves of air that Dwight could manage. You saw him go still. You saw the last twitch of his fingers in the dirt as the final strain of life was completely ebbed away from him.
You weren’t an idiot. You knew what this meant. Eyes focused on The Ghostface like a deer seized in the headlights of a roaring car, you blindly felt out for the metal of the hatch. Your fingers slid against the cold rust and your pulse violently danced behind your eyes. Blood pounded in your ears as you desperately willed for the thing to hurry up and open.
Danny’s gloved fingers clawed tightly at your ankle, covered nails digging into your skin.
“Your turn, baby.”
#dbd imagines#dwight fairfield#dbd dwight#dwight fairfield x reader#you asked for hurt and i provided you both hurt and sadness#because sometimes i like making myself sad for absolutely no reason#dbd ghostface#danny jed olsen johnson#fic where danny does a stab#dbd headcanons
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200 Best Albums of the 2010s
200. Nicki Minaj – Pink Friday
199. Deerhunter – Fading Frontier
198. Pinkshinyultrablast – Everything Else Matters
197. WU LYF – Go Tell Fire To The Mountain
196. Tim Hecker – Ravedeath, 1972
195. Fleet Foxes – Helplessness Blues
194. Sharon Van Etten – Remind Me Tomorrow
193. Kornél Kovács – The Bells
192. Perfume Genius – Too Bright
191. Let’s Eat Grandma – I’m All Ears
190. Motion City Soundtrack – My Dinosaur Life
189. Rosalía – El Mal Querer
188. Phoebe Bridgers – Stranger In The Alps
187. Andy Stott – Luxury Problems
186. Teyana Taylor – K.T.S.E.
185. Ariana Grande – Yours Truly
184. The Range – Potential
183. U.S. Girls – In A Poem Unlimited
182. Sampha – Process
181. Julia Holter – Have You In My Wilderness
180. Fleet Foxes – Crack-Up
179. HAIM – Days Are Gone
178. Caribou – Swim
177. Beyoncé – BEYONCÉ
176. Radiohead – OKNOTOK
175. Nicole Dollanganger – Natural Born Losers
174. fun. – Some Nights
173. Guerilla Toss – Twisted Crystal
172. Julianna Barwick – Will
171. Leif – Loom Dream
170. Charli XCX – Sucker
169. Noname – Room 25
168. Beach House – Thank Your Lucky Stars
167. Makthaverskan – III
166. Florence + The Machine – Ceremonials
165. James Blake – Assume Form
164. Kishi Bashi – Lighght
163. Real Estate – In Mind
162. Japanese Breakfast – Psychopomp
161. Jay Som – Everybody Works
160. Slayyyter – Slayyyter
159. Kacey Musgraves – Same Trailer Different Park
158. Oneohtrix Point Never – Replica
157. Radiohead – A Moon Shaped Pool
156. Charli XCX – Pop 2
155. Slowdive – Slowdive
154. Perfume Genius – Learning
153. Beyoncé – 4
152. Disclosure – Settle
151. AlunaGeorge – Body Music
150. Rihanna – Loud
149. Sir Babygirl – Crush On Me
148. Wild Nothing – Nocturne
147. CHAI – PUNK
146. Bon Iver – Bon Iver, Bon Iver
145. The Tallest Man On Earth – There’s No Leaving Now
144. Pinkshinyultrablast – Grandfeathered
143. CHVRCHES – Every Open Eye
142. Panda Bear – Panda Bear Meets The Grim Reaper
141. Mount Eerie – Now Only
140. Oneohtrix Point Never – R Plus Seven
139. Jessie Ware – Tough Love
138. Charli XCX – Number 1 Angel
137. Chelsea Wolfe – Hiss Spun
136. Better Oblivion Community Center – Better Oblivion Community Center
135. Kali Uchis – Isolation
134. James Blake – The Colour In Anything
133. Jon Hopkins – Immunity
132. Mitski – Bury Me At Makeout Creek
131. Mac DeMarco – Salad Days
130. James Blake – Overgrown
129. CEO – White Magic
128. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Skeleton Tree
127. Ariana Grande – thank u, next
126. Empress Of – Me
125. BANKS – Goddess
124. Kanye West – Yeezus
123. Low – Double Negative
122. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Ghosteen
121. Kraus – Path
120. Mutual Benefit – Skip A Sinking Stone
119. Florist – Emily Alone
118. Tinashe – Aquarius
117. Adrianne Lenker – abysskiss
116. Two Door Cinema Club – Beacon
115. Kendrick Lamar – DAMN.
114. Britney Spears – Femme Fatale
113. Julien Baker – Turn Out The Lights
112. Rhye – Woman
111. The National – Trouble Will Find Me
110. SZA – CTRL
109. Marina & The Diamonds – FROOT
108. Kyary Pamyu Pamyu – Pamyu Pamyu Revolution
107. SBTRKT – SBTRKT
106. Ball Park Music – Museum
105. Lykke Li – I Never Learn
104. Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
103. Kero Kero Bonito – Bonito Generation
102. Everything Everything – A Fever Dream
101. Makthaverskan – II
100. Paramore – After Laughter
99. Angel Olsen – My Woman
98. Tim Hecker – Anoyo
97. Azealia Banks – Fantasea
96. DJ Koze �� Knock Knock
95. Hop Along – Bark Your Head Off, Dog
94. Florence + The Machine – How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful
93. Danny Brown – Atrocity Exhibition
92. Baths – Obsidian
91. Crystal Castles – (III)
90. Youth Lagoon – Wondrous Bughouse
89. Fiona Apple – The Idler Wheel…
88. Perfume Genius – Put Your Back N 2 It
87. Vampire Weekend – Father Of The Bride
86. Hundred Waters – Communicating
85. Lana Del Rey – Ultraviolence
84. The Wonder Years – The Greatest Generation
83. Everything Everything – Get To Heaven
82. Alvvays – Antisocialites
81. Angel Olsen – All Mirrors
80. Grimes – Art Angels
79. Two Door Cinema Club – Tourist History
78. Lana Del Rey – Norman Fucking Rockwell!
77. SOPHIE – Oil Of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides
76. St. Vincent – St. Vincent
75. Bombay Bicycle Club – So Long, See You Tomorrow
74. Julianna Barwick – Nepenthe
73. Mitski – Puberty 2
72. The Wonder Years – The Upsides
71. Arcade Fire – Her OST
70. Big Thief – U.F.O.F.
69. Waxahatchee – Out In The Storm
68. Marina & The Diamonds – The Family Jewels
67. How To Dress Well – “What Is This Heart?”
66. Kendrick Lamar – To Pimp A Butterfly
65. Vince Staples – Big Fish Theory
64. Washed Out – Paracosm
63. ANOHNI – Hopelessness
62. Solange – A Seat At The Table
61. Sevdaliza – Ison
60. Bombay Bicycle Club – A Different Kind Of Fix
59. Joanna Newsom – Divers
58. Miike Snow – Happy To You
57. Big Thief – Two Hands
56. The Tallest Man On Earth – The Wild Hunt
55. Regina Spektor – Remember Us To Life
54. Majical Cloudz – Impersonator
53. FKA twigs – MAGDALENE
52. Carly Rae Jepsen – Dedicated
51. Starfucker – Reptilians
50. Phoenix – Bankrupt!
49. Big Thief – Capacity
48. Carly Rae Jepsen – E•MO•TION
47. Kendrick Lamar – good kid, m.A.A.d city
46. Four Year Strong – Enemy Of The World
45. Purity Ring – Another Eternity
44. Mitski – Be The Cowboy
43. Charli XCX – True Romance
42. Blanck Mass – World Eater
41. Paramore – Paramore
40. Majical Cloudz – Are You Alone?
39. Vampire Weekend – Contra
38. Kacey Musgraves – Golden Hour
37. Marina & The Diamonds – Electra Heart
36. Deerhunter – Halcyon Digest
35. Julianna Barwick – The Magic Place
34. Mount Eerie – A Crow Looked At Me
33. Beach House – Depression Cherry
32. A.A.L (Against All Logic) – 2012 - 2017
31. Autre Ne Veut – Anxiety
30 Weyes Blood – Titanic Rising
29. Real Estate – Atlas
28. Passion Pit – Gossamer
27. Tame Impala – Currents
26. Azealia Banks – Broke With Expendive Taste
25. Sky Ferreira – Night Time, My Time
24. Ball Park Music – Happiness And Surrounding Suburbs
23. Mayday Parade – Mayday Parade
22. Beach House – 7
21. Perfume Genius – No Shape
20. Lana Del Rey – Born To Die
19. Hatchie – Keepsake
18. Vampire Weekend – Modern Vampires Of The City
17. Purity Ring – Shrines
16. LIGHTS – Siberia
15. CHVRCHES – The Bones Of What You Believe
14. Beach House – Teen Dream
13. Björk – Vulnicura
12. Lorde – Melodrama
11. FKA twigs – LP1
10. Vanessa Carlton – Rabbits On The Run
9. Hellogoodbye – Would It Kill You?
8. Alt-J – An Awesome Wave
7. Deakin – Sleep Cycle
6. You, Me, And Everyone We Know – Some Things Don’t Wash Out
5. Beach House – Bloom
4. Lorde – Pure Heroine
3. Frank Ocean – channel ORANGE
2. The Wonder Years – Suburbia I’ve Given You All And Now I’m Nothing
1. Sufjan Stevens – Carrie & Lowell
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List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity :) ❤💛💚💙💜
What a fun question! Hum... let's see
1. My best friends. I love them so much. I have two wonderful best friends that have stuck by me for years, even during the hard times. They are just the source of so much of my happiness with our all goofs and indide jokes, but also a feeling of comfort and safety with them. I can tell them anything and they either just accept it (like me coming out or telling them about my past) or are ready to help (like if I'm having a panic attack). It's not all one way of course. I will drop everything yo be there for them too. It's funny, but when we're tired of people and want to be alone, it never includes each other. Like we just don't drain each other's batteries. It's nice.
2. My online friends. Yes. I'm talking to you @winterpower98, @fuocsniperbot98, @parano--vigilant, @fangirltothefullest, @random-pianist, @thesearcher1092, @champions-of-spirits, @madly-handsome, @crystrifoglio, @anotherphaseofpain, @5am-the-foxing-hour, @shoot-i-messed-up, @dillbugg, @an0therrand0, @ymmm-someone, @uwillneverknowwho, and anybody else on here that has touched my life (sorry if I missed anybody!) as well as the wonderful people I've met on other platforms too. You all have brought me so much joy. Yes, some of you can annoy the ever lovin HELL out of me sometimes, but I still love ya ;) Thanks for being a part of my life. You are all such wonderful people, each in their own way.
Winter, you are overflowing with kindness, understanding, and artistic talent that makes everyone who knows you see you as precious. I mean it. You are a beautiful precious bean. Anybody who doesn't see that is an idiot and I will fight them (and I wont be alone). You are always willing to listen, always ready to help, and always willing to learn and grow as a person. You accept everyone as they are and you are such a giving friend. You love what you love so purely and enthusiasticly too. Is it any wonder that anyone who knows you is ready to protect you with the ferocity that most people reserve for their favorite character and baby animals?
Fuoc, you are filled with chaotic energy, but also so much good and such a strong desire to help that you at times feel like a dnd character given human form. You are also a kickass artist! I love what you create and watching you put your own spin on things. You are a delight my wonderful rainbow demon seal and I am so lucky to have met you. ^_^
Celeste, you are a great listener and so brave and creative with your art. Not a lot of people are able to withstand the pressure to keep putting themselves out there like you do. You also have this... undercurrent of kindness that flows through your being. I'm not sure you're even aware of it, but it's always there and it's beautiful.
Toshi, you are just... you. A goose let loose on the world. You feel how you feel. You art how you art. Just... stream of conciousness randomness creating beautiful insanity. You own who you are and what you believe fearlessly. You work hard to achieve your dreams (even when your professors are being idiots) and harder to help your family. You deserve to be as kind to yourself as you are to others.
Random, you are cautious and walk the world like an adventurer exploring a cave with light steps and wide eyes, but when you share something, it's always worth it. Rather it's art, a story, or letting down a wall just enough to let yourself shine through. I love the caring talented person you are.
Blue, you are the embodiment of the kid in a candy store. Just so filled with bubbly pure excitement (with a bit of anxiety that tends to leak through at times *hugs*)! You apreciate things from rooftops, both creations and people. It's a sight to behold and absolutely contagious. I can't tell you how much I squealed when I seen your art of my story. I really did print it out ya know? I lost it in the move, so I plan on making another at some point. My new fridge requires art ;)
Josie? My dear? You are a doll. A tiny ball of hope, anxiety, and dreams. You care - just so much - about everybody. Strangers? Animals? Superiors? Friends? Family? It doesn't matter. You want to help them all. You will drive yourself into the ground to help someone. You will juggle as much as it takes. Your major in college was even picked BECAUSE of how much you want to help people! You are an amazing talented beautiful person who deserves all the love and appreciation in the world and your love of the written word is precious and contagious. Just... try to direct some of that beautiful carring nature towards yourself ya?
Madly. Madly, Madly, Madly. My fellow beautifully insane person and lover of dark things. We literally met brainstorming a serial killer! I love your dark sense of humor. Sometimes it's nice to just sit down with someone that I know wont get nightmares from darker story ideas and recommendations (or look at me like I must have something seriously wrong with me to come up with such things). You are that person. And you care. You really do. When you ask someone how they are, you mean it. You sincerely want to know. And you are so very... alive. It's the only way I can describe it. Just filled with... life. It's a beautiful thing.
Cryst, you are one of the people that inspired me to come on tumblr and share my first short story. You are wise beyond your years, kind, creative, and a real friend to those you know in real life and online. Your that person who always needs a tablet on hand because you never know when creativity will strike. You love the silly things and jokes, but you aren't afraid to roll up your sleeves and get down to business. You're also also a good listener and an honest editor and I'm so glad you seen my note on your speed paint. ^_^
Menace, you are the other person who inspired me to come to Tumblr and share my story, but instead of excitement (like Cryst), you used a gentle nudge and I think the one-two punch of the two of you is exactly what I needed. You my dear are made of feelings. You wear them like a cloak and they pour out of you with pure sincerity... and yet you somehow still have this quiet calm energy about you. It's like a flowing stream; calm and overflowing with life and movement at the same time. It actually comes through in your art and gives your pieces a very unique and beautiful feel. You're also kind and willing to listen. I know sometimes it feels like the world is on your shoulders, but I also know that you are filled with such great and beautiful things that sometimes are hidden just under the surface. Thank you for finding me.
Foxy? God. What do I even say about you? You dive in head first when you love something and make it your own. And when you don't like something? You don't play around with it either. You walk the world with a stubbornness that could put some bolders to shame, but because of it, you are honest about how you feel. You talk to a person because you like them, not because of social norms. You praise something because you think it's good, not to take it easy on somebody. It's actually very comforting. You're also silly and goofy and fun. You're empathetic and always trying to help out your readers, rather it's through asks, over tagging your creations, or making sure you balance your creations so they never end on a bad note. You are... you.
Shoot, you were my first reader. The first person to find me on this mess of a site. God. How confused were you when I practically wrote an essay thanking you for liking my little fic?! XD I've watched you grow and become the person you are and that person is pretty cool. Your desire to create comes in bursts. You live up to your username a little too much though and I desire to flick your ear when you worry so much. This momma bear says you are an amazing creator and a good friend and I'm proud of you ^_^
Dilly, you were always a hoot. I loved your stories and your creativity. It's been entirely too long since we've talked.
Rando, I haven't known you long, but I like you. You remind me of a kid rocking on their feet before jumping into a game of double dutch (type of jump rope with two ropes), hesitate and anxious, but still willing to jump in. I look forward to getting to know you more.
Ymmm, you are also fairly new, but I have had so much fun getting to know you. I think we started talking when I seen my phone was blowing up and realized you were going through and liking everything I've ever posted and reblogging half of it. XD You are fun, energetic, and you still read my tumblr even though I'm far less active than I used to be. I love your asks, your random messages, and chatting with you about nothing in particular. You are half the reason that I started getting back on occasionally to post things. ^_^
Who, you are the embodiment of a keysmash. Just stream of conciousness feelings and thoughts and all the things you love. It's a blast. You love to listen, you love to talk, and you love to have conversations about everything and nothing. It's wonderful to witness you finding something new and spazzing out over it. Your energy is infectious and sometimes it's nice to talk to someone who is cool with me talking in paragraphs. Case in point. Jesus. I think my point 2 went on a LITTLE long O_O
3. My cat Danny. He's a wonderful spoiled boy and a FANTASTIC ESA. He makes me laugh, he brings me comfort, and no matter what's going on, I know that this gray ball of crazy cat energy loves me.
4. Reseraching. Yes. I'm well aware that that's weird, but there's something about diving into something new and learning new facts and viewpoints that you never knew your entire life that is just so satisfying. Reading, experiments, or just talking to someone outside of my social circle. They all help me understand the world a little better and be more open minded. Some are simple (like learning how dice are made and what makes them more or less likely to be fair), some that seem simple at first turn out to be complex and nuanced (like black haircare, styling, and culture), and some are massive undertakings from the start (like intersex conditions). Each subject - from big to small - changes how I see the world.
5. Enjoying creations. I know that sounds vague, but I sincerely enjoy seeing what people create! As long as the creations aren't bigoted, odd are I'll love it because I love seeing the result of somebody take something from thought to reality. From classical art to fanfiction to my nephew's lego towers, each creation has it's own merit because each creation (even commissions) shows a part of the person that created it. After all, you can give five guitarists the same chord to play and no two sounds would be exactly the same. Now rather I actually like the end product of their creation varies. Some thing just aren't for me (like creepy pasta and country music). However, I can still appreciate that they made it.
On a side note, please don't be cruel to creators. Imagine there's a toddler still inside every creator who shows what they create. Some who are shy and fragile. Some who are overwhelmingly confident and proud. Some who just want to draw on the walls. All so easily crushed with a single hurtful word. Choose to see the good in what they make. Point out where they improved, tell them what you liked, and gently and tactfully pointing out small mistakes (like a typo or some other small overlooked thing) if you need to. And for god's sakes, don't be a bully.
#chain mail#bluewind talks#love my readers#dear god this got long#gonna copy this just in case it doesn't post#learned my lesson after so so many lost posts
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2017, in summary
- got rid of a super toxic friend
- saw danny elfman
- met some of my friends irl
- gave myself a mohawk (like 3 times lmao)
- transferred to a newer school. a better school.
- got a radio show
- joined drumline again bc I love hitting drums
- lived on my own during the summer
- bought a lot of records
- finally got on anxiety meds (which also helped to decrease the depresh too)
- FINALLY saw a gender therapist and got the ball rolling on my transition
some bad stuff happened this year too (major depression for a good half the year, dog died, had to cut my dad off for good) but I’ve done a lot of growing and y’know what the concept of a new year may be purely symbolic but I’m ready to improve upon this list and make it longer
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DAY 32
Midway City, CA to San Diego, CA
Hours: 10 hrs
Miles: 95 mi
Elevation gain: 2,490 ft
Elevation loss: 2,451 ft
Clip-in falls: 3
Flat tires: 1
Well, the trip is finished. It’s surreal. It was really hard. It was really amazing. But it’s finished.
I woke up this morning at the Sains’ place, suited up for the day, and packed up my bike one last time. I said my goodbyes to all four of them at around 8:30am and then hopped on my bike for my very last morning. It was a sort of bittersweet moment--I was really excited to get on the road and have my last day because I couldn’t wait to be home, but it also was my last day on the tour; today was my 32nd day on my bike and I can’t imagine being back in San Diego and life just settling into the same old routines again. I’ve been in the saddle pedaling, eating, sleeping, site-seeing, experiencing new places, and pushing for the last month and all of a sudden I will just back in my house, going to work, working out, meeting up with friends, and doing simple things like cleaning my house or feeding Mr. P. It really was a 50/50 split of happy and sad.
It was NOT a 50/50 split of happy and sad to leave RJ, Taryn, Brooklyn, and Moose--it was just sad. While I’ve lived away from California in North Carolina, Indiana, and Chicago, I missed out on about three years of seeing them. Now that I’m back on the west coast, I feel so privileged and motivated to see those from college that I love hanging out with and taking advantage of the fact that we are now only a few hours from each other, rather than a long flight and time off. They were such great hosts and I am so happy I was able to meet Brooklyn when she is so fresh out the womb.
The first quarter of the day contained most of the elevation, which I was happy to get out of the way in the morning. The only other elevation I would have is the big hill coming out of Torrey Pines, which was pretty close to home and I was not looking forward to it. The first half of the day wasn’t too bad in general, though it really started getting warmer in the afternoon.
About 5 miles north of Camp Pendleton, a military base, I stopped in San Onofre State Beach to sit on a picnic table in the shade to eat lunch. The bike route took me straight through the state beach, which was great because there was no traffic and it eventually turned into a bike path; I saw almost no bikes on the path as well.
Unfortunately, you have to have a military ID to go through Camp Pendleton; I thought I read online that you just needed to have an ID of any kind. So I rode up to the entrance and was kindly turned away......which meant that I was going to have to ride on the 5. Riding your bike on the 5 is illegal, except for this 8-mile stretch around Camp Pendleton.
It wasn’t scary riding on the shoulder of the 5, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable; the shoulder is the same size of a lane, so cars weren’t an issue, but I was constantly on-edge as I looked ahead to see if there was any broken glass, shredded tires, nails, etc. It was also extremely loud, as there were about four lanes of traffic on each side, so I was altogether very happy when I finally exited for Oceanside.
Getting to Oceanside felt incredible but also somewhat daunting. I still had about 35 miles to go and I knew this last section would feel a bit torturous--so close yet so far. It’s like when you’re on a road trip and you’re 45 minutes away from your destination--it’s the longest 45 minutes of your life. This felt that way, too, though I was really trying to take myself out of that mindset and enjoy the views and ride. Oceanside to Mission Beach is a really pretty and easy-going ride, and it was the last section of my bike trip, so I did my best to look around, experience how it feels to sit in the saddle, and just be on the bike trip, one last time. I stopped in Oceanside for my last awkward late lunch/early dinner meal because there was no way I could make it the last leg without fueling up. I, of course, ate a sandwich, and then I was on my way.
The anticipation certainly started building as I went through Carlsbad, Leucadia, Cardiff-by-the-Sea, and then arrived at Torrey Pines--I’d completed this entire bike ride from Carlsbad to Torrey Pines before with my roommate, Jenny, so it was both frustrating and exciting to be doing it again. I was dreading arriving at Torrey Pines, however, because I had to complete my last climb of the trip, and it wasn’t going to necessarily be easy.
The Torrey Pines hill is steep but just manageable without needing to stop, but it takes about 15 minutes to ascend. I was definitely running low on energy, both from biking and the heat; it was becoming much like the 90-mile day I did north of San Francisco, where things were starting to feel defeated. If I didn’t have the adrenaline of almost being home and arriving at the welcome party Kate organized, it would have been much harder.
Luckily, as I started the climb, another bike rode up next to me and started asking me about my trip. At first, I was annoyed because it’s very obvious I am huffing and puffing up this hill, and he kept asking me questions, but soon I was 10 minutes up the hill and I hadn’t stopped (mostly because I would feel rude leaving Nathan on the road, who had so kindly taken an interest in the tour). I tried to ask him a lot of question so he would have to talk instead, but soon, we were nearly at the top of the hill! I was very thankful for the support and conversation because ultimately, it distracted me and got me past my last major obstacle!
Soon, I was cruising through La Jolla as quickly as I could (La Jolla felt massive--it seemed that no matter how close I felt I was getting to Pacific Beach and Mission Beach, I was still somehow in La Jolla).
Once I was on the Ocean Walk in southern PB, it started feeling super surreal--here I was, riding down a path that I had run dozens of times, seeing restaurants I had eaten at and streets I recognized. Even though I had been biking towards it all for 32 days, I felt like I was suddenly transported from far away, like I had apparated from somewhere on the California coast to just north of my house.
I started seeing streets I knew were in Mission Beach--San Jose, Nantucket, Santa Barbara--and then I was at the roller coaster a mile from my house. There were tourists everywhere because it was the 4th of July week, and I tried not to run anyone down as I maneuvered as quickly as possible around them. I saw Capistrano, Balboa, and then, finally, my sweet, sweet Avalon Court.
I rode down the sidewalk to my house, looked up at the balcony, and saw the wonderful smiling faces of Kate, Josh, Trey, Andera, Amanda, and Danny. I can’t describe the feeling of seeing my house, seeing friends’ faces and cheering, the big hug from Danny after he ran down the stairs, the relief and surrealness of walking up the steps. I have thought for a while that I might cry when I got home and saw everyone, but I was honestly so overwhelmed and happy that I couldn’t even form sentences.
It was so good to see friends, but it was something special to see Kate. She had only left me for a week (lol) but it felt like forever, and it was so good to hug her and be reunited. We rode around 1,100 miles together and I wouldn’t even be on the trip if it wasn’t for her--this whole thing was her idea. I literally could not have done it without her; our experiences together are what made the last part of the trip alone possible.
We popped champagne, we drank beer, we snacked, I couldn’t think straight and was so happy--I know I keep saying things were surreal, but they truly were. Home felt like a far away and intangible place for so long and now I was sitting on my front porch with my friends like I was never gone, and suddenly the bike trip felt like a dream instead. Did I really just bike 1,664 miles? Was I really gone for over a month? Did I actually just do a 95-mile day? I was in a happy, dreamy state and couldn’t quite wrap my mind around anything.
I will say that I WAS able to experience how loved and supported I am--everyone was so happy for me and so happy to see me; there is nothing really like feeling like you were missed, that people are proud of you, happy for you, inspired by you, excited for you.
Maybe most importantly, at least for me, is that I was really proud of myself. I don’t toot my own horn really at all, and I generally feel too narcissistic if I like or am proud of something I did. But finishing this bike trip is something that I am purely and humbly am proud of. It’s something I actually feel like I deserve to be proud but I don’t feel self-centered about it. I am ALSO surprised by what I did.
I can’t describe how I feel about doing this bike trip. There were so many times I felt like it was impossible, especially in the beginning. On day two, I very much felt like there was absolutely no way I could do this; I felt so completely defeated and the scale of the trip was so overwhelming. 30 more days of this? 1,500 more miles of this? Hills? Weather? It was one of only a few times in my life where I felt like I was in over my head.
This trip taught me a lot but an important thing it taught me is to take life day-by-day, challenge-by-challenge. It may be a day with a lot of elevation gain and loss; it may be a day where there are a few big climbs to complete; it may be raining; it may be balls hot; I may want a bed when I only have my sleeping bag; I may not have any motivation; I might be so tired that I don’t think I can pedal one more time; I might have a flat tire while I’m alone and cycling my longest day and almost to my destination; I might have run over my water bottle and have no water left; it may be a combination of any one of these situations. But I learned (better) how to just focus on the task at hand, celebrate the small victories, and to push through when I don’t think I can do something. As someone who deals with a lot of anxiety, it’s really easy for me to obsess over how big and impossible something seems and to feel very overwhelmed. It’s really important for me to better learn how to take a deep breath and take something piece by piece rather than crumble under the weight of how big something seems.
I’ve never been so physically challenged and I’ve certainly never been so challenged by something that requires both physical and mental strength. I was shown in a very tangible way that I am capable of more than I think I am and that I can do things even when it seems impossible or unbearable. It’s made me a lot more appreciative of and inspired by myself; it’s given me the confidence and inspiration to get myself outside of my comfort zone in my normal life, whether that by physically, mentally, artistically, or at work.
It’s such a cliche thing but I’ve really experienced ‘you don’t know until you try.’ I’ve tried to live this way but I’ve been hesitant in so many realms of my life because I don’t want to fail or be embarrassed. This trip has really inspired me to keep trying.
Plus, on top of all that, I am now fit as fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck🦵🏼💪🏼and love cycling🚴🏼♀️
This won’t be my last tour💜
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Prompt 5, Your hand in mine
Prompt: “I like the way your hand fits in mine.”
Fandom: Danny Phantom
Ship: Danny and Ghostwriter
The room was dark as not only were quite late in the day but outside one could see a storm through the window of the teen’s room. Said teen who was currently hiding under the covers of his bed with a tight grip on its edge as to not allow it to slip off of him.
A lightning lit up the room for just a second, the loud thunder following with the darkness. Bringing a loud whine from Danny as he curled up yet tighter. He hated this, he hated thunder and any storm that would bring it along. ANY other weather would be to prefer.
At least he’s indoor instead of out in this horrific weather. He snorts drily. Somehow he feel it should be ridiculous for him to fear this, that it shouldn’t be reminding him of that incident.
A whine and a shiver later as the next thunder passes he tightens his body in its ball. Then a small desperate laugh.
How is it that no one have noticed? How had he manage to hide this? Hide the fact that for each time he is in a fight and his opponent use electricity on him, or when his parents device either on purpose or accident zaps him badly, when Vlad uses his ghost core element on him, that for all of those times he not only remember when he died, but also feel it. He sees the green and the sharp light behind it, can feel as the electricity enters him and starts to burn him dead. Feel how the chemicals that had followed with it start to replace and replicate the cells that by then was gone.
Danny guess it have to be pure luck. That no one notice his anxiety whenever Technus, Vlad or even Walker shows up, or when Vortex created his thunder clouds, nor how even normal bad weather now a day get him to tense up.
Or maybe no one cares enough to see.
BOOOOM
A soundless scream and the halfa can practically feel how his throat burns and vibrates with his now continuous whines and periodical sobs and hiccups. But he can’t hear any sound from it, to lost in his thoughts for the next thunder to come.
But someone else did.
Ghostwriter had planned to come on a visit as soon as his latest manuscript was finished and had proceeded to do so. Only to find it to be in the middle of the night as he comes out of the Fenton Portal.
Feeling a little down that his beloved by now is likely to be asleep he decided that he at least could get to see the teen for a moment before returning home and giving himself the promise to show up here again first thing in the morning.
Floating up and phasing through the ceiling he soon came to Danny’s room only to pause as he entered. What is that sound? A low but high pitched sound echoed in the room and looking for the source his eyes soon landed on the figure on the bed. Danny.
Worry, he moved over, and as he stood over the shivering mass he tenderly reached out a hand and touched what he believe to be the halfa’s shoulder.
“Danny?”
There is a pause to the sounds before a tentative voice came out “Writer?”, and the blanked moved down some so the child underneath could peck out at the ghost leaning over him.
This allowed the writer to see how pale his skin and glassy his eyes are, also the still wet cheeks. Worry increasing and alarms now going off in his head Ghostwriter tries to ask what’s wrong but before he gets a chance a thunder booms away and a terrified squeak follows it. Danny is back under the blanket and is shacking even worse now.
Unsure what to do Ghostwriter sits down on the bed and pulls Danny up towards him, so that Danny is nearly sitting in his lap with his head leaning on his shoulder. The blanket remain tightly tugged around the child.
“Shh, Danny. It’s okay. Shh.”
Hearing that the raged breathing wasn’t letting up Writer rearrange his hold ever so slightly so he can move one hand in under the blanket and find one of Danny’s hands. He holds the hand tightly as he hugs the halfa close, waiting for the worse of the shivers to subside. Then he starts to speak softly and low, as to not startle the other.
“Danny, what’s wrong? Why is the storm making you react like this?” because that is the only thing this could be about, with how the child flinched and whimpered when a flash lit up the room for a second. “I have never seen or heard about you having this kind of reaction before.”
Pressing himself tightly against the ghost, his own hand closing over his, Danny started to stutter out his words, too frighten too realize what he is telling him. “It’s not the storm” a new thunder and a flinch, “it’s the thunder.” Danny decided to hide his face against the others chest.
“But why?” Writer rubbed his back in calming circles, “It can’t reach you in here and even if flying in it ghost have a natural neutrality to it, the effects are at best minimal. And I can’t imagine it being all too different even for halfas.”
Danny’s shacking got worse and his voice is frail as he forces out the next words. “I died by electrocution. Every time I hear or feel electricity I end up remembering my death. All of it.”
Ghostwriter sat absolutely still for a few moments as he absorbed this new information. And then he feels like an idiot. He had been aware of this halfa’s condition being caused by being inside the portal downstairs while it opened up, but he had never thought about the implications behind it of how this child died.
“Then… how come no one have seen this,” he indicated Danny’s current uncurled stature, “There have been plenty of thunder storms since the accident and that is not counting the amount of ghosts that have used some form of energy attack on you. Why aren’t anyone here for you now?” He didn’t mean the climbing in his voice but it is upsetting to think that his mate had been caring for his death fear on his own all this time.
“Because I always tried to hide it.”
“But why? Why hide it, even the more sadistic ghosts usually tries to avoid using someone’s death-cause against them. It’s what’s proper.”
“…” as silence met him he started to think that Danny wouldn’t answer. But then he did. “I’m not supposed to be scared of anything, and if a fear is found then I’m expected to “work it out” and be rid of it.”
For a moment there was silence, filled with disbelief and bafflement. “What have given you such an idea?”
“…all living that knows about me…”
“But that… Your friends told you this.”
“And Jazz.” Danny at this confession started to cry. The tears warm and fast as they covered his cheeks. Prompting the ghost to press a little more at Danny’s hand while also cooing to him in a try to calm him. Ghostwriter is yet not sure what exactly have been said and done to his mate, but he had this nagging feeling that with more told about it he will have a reason to lose his temper.
Still it will help if he knew what exactly those brats have been telling Danny.
“Can you tell me what they have been telling you?” he is careful not to let any animosity be present in his voice. It work as Danny after a few more sniffs and giving his hand an answering squeeze.
“…It was mostly about small things, in the beginning. Like if I had hesitated between rather I should dodge or defend they would later help me figure what is the better option so I wouldn’t hesitate again. Or if something happened at school and I worried over how everyone would think of me as a freak.”
“You are not a freak Danny. Never where and never will be.”
Danny gave a faint smile into the ghost’s chest that faded as he went on. “…But then it all… shifted. I had to be better at fighting but no matter what I did or tried there was always something that I had done wrong. And even when I tried to be normal in school, or in town or even at home somehow I was never careful enough and have to act more believingly. And then my grades fell really, really bad and I have to be more responsible.”
Danny’s voice got small and frail, “… and no matter what I do it not enough, I don’t work hard enough.” The child didn’t even seem to notice the thunder anymore as the Writer tried to consul him. “I’m even ungrateful for not spending time with them anymore.”
“That’s enough.” Andrew hadn’t meant to sound so hard, regretting hew he felt the other flinch, but he kept on as he removed the blanket from over the halfa’s head. “Danny look at me as I tell you this.” As blue met green neither looked away. “You are good enough, more so you are overly above with what anyone should ever be able to require of you. Practically alone for over a whole year you have not only manage to keep humans and their homes safe, but you also manage to do the same for the ghosts. And I am not only referring to the Pariah Dark incident, but also how ever since you learned that ghosts aren’t soulless, you have been spending come and effort to make sure we don’t come to harm either.”
Danny stared, “How…?”
“How did I notice? Not that hard really, you hold back so much in the fights to match the opponent as much as possible, why else would a fight with the Lunch Lady take as time as one with Skulker? And then how whenever you notice a ghost hunter close to catching a ghost, or already have, you intercept them and bring the ghosts back to the zone. You Danny care for everyone you met and have done more to keep them all safe than what anyone else have. So as a fighter you are more than good enough, you are incredible.”
“And for the whole thing about school and at home. It’s a wonder that you can even function sometimes with the effort you give to this town and the zone. And the acting on top of it? That is a miracle. While you are lucky this town is filled to the prim with idiots, it isn’t you acting that is the problem or at fault. You shouldn’t even have to be in such a position where that is needed.”
“”Same goes for the studying. As things currently are there is no way you can give more energy to it than you already are and again it isn’t the subject in question that have to be changed, but what is the cause for it.”
“Which is what I will do.”
Danny, looking a little bewildered and blown out of it all, simply continued to stare as he asked, “What?”
The odd expression in the ghost’s face of a mix of determination and soothing changed into one complete resolution. “If you don’t know how to fix the problem causing you pain and you friend fail to think about it, then I will take actions instead. I know that it’s the other ghost’s behavior regarding this realm that is the problem, and I also think I know of a way to stop that.” Danny wasn’t sure if the devilish smile was a good thing or something he need to worry about. Then that smile turned gentle again.
“You seem to be doing better now.”
“Huh?” Looking around the boy noticed that not only had the storm calmed down but also how he had stopped panicking over it. And he finally noticed how tightly he had been gripping the Ghostwriter’s hand.
Trying to let it go the ghost gave a comforting squeeze, quietly saying in his ear. “I like how your hand fits in mine.” At that Danny decided that for just this once it could be fine to let the ghost be a bit clingy, and his lap is rather comfy.
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Opening night at the opera...
I had been looking forwards to this show for weeks, I had a special dress, new make up and severe anxiety for the whole day leading up to going out of the door...
The opera was the brand new production by The Welsh National Opera of “Un ballo in maschera” by Verdi, a Gothic melodrama in three acts and it was beautiful. This was also the opening night, in their home theatre, in Cardiff. So you can imagine the excitement among the audience, which unlike that we see in Bristol, seemed to have a bias towards the older opera lover. Generally speaking, from where we were sat, the average age of patrons was around 170! Come on young people, you need to embrace the arts because you are missing out on a spectacle of beauty.
So let’s start at the beginning of my story, which involves a trip to the theatre to see the WNO perform in Bristol, which was as always, utterly wonderful. During the intermission and after my dash to the loo, we were approached by the Press Officer, a charming young woman who clearly knows her onions and she asked if my dear friend Ginny would like to review a special show? It turns out the plebs like us are just the sort of people the WNO needs to bring in, in order to keep going. To be blunt, more plebs means more money in ticket sales... OK, that is remarkably disingenuous, but it stands as a point. The arts in this country are in desperate need of support and the more ordinary people who will embrace them, the longer they can survive.
So, I placed the date in my diary and then pretended to forget about it, while inside my stomach squirmed at the thought of going to Cardiff to see a show in a huge auditorium. I also needed to make sure that I looked smart, this was after all, a special event, so no jeans and Slayer t-shirt for this one. Actually, as I think about this, I have never worn jeans and a Slayer t-shirt to the opera. Maybe I should from now on! Anyway, the only good frock I had in my wardrobe was broken. It also did not fit me that well and quite frankly it was close to being thrown out, despite having been really pretty when new.
Luckily for me, while out at a Death Metal gig, I met the fabulously clever and talented Cassie of Jolliff Sewing and Embroidery and she said that no dress was beyond saving. Somewhat doubtfully, I gave her my frock and a small payment and hoped for the best. I told her to take her time and in almost no time at all I was told to come and get my frock. It looked brand new. No, actually, it looked better than brand new. It looked tailored, it fitted me perfectly and she had even repaired the lace on the front that I thought was beyond repair. I could not have been happier. My advice to anyone in need of dress making advice or clothing repairs is to talk to Cassie. Mind you, you will have to wait your turn because she now has the rest of my ripped and ruined wardrobe (I must stop fixing the motorbike while wearing ball gowns!) to fix up and alter.
With a new frock and some new make up, I got myself ready and two hours before I was due to leave, I realised that I really did not want to go. The thought of travelling to Cardiff, of being in that huge room with all of those people, of being somewhere posh, of being sociable... all of the things that us socially awkward quiet shy types have to deal with on a daily basis suddenly piled up on my shoulders and threatened to crush me. I could not eat, I could not drink anything and I even forgot to take my meds prior to leaving. Physically shaking, I left the house and sat in the car. Not even rancid death metal could calm me down.
I picked up Ginny and we hit the motorway, in bad weather and low visibility. The trip to Wales was on and I was focused on getting us there safely. I had offered to drive because Ginny has always driven us previously and it seemed fair to share the load so to speak. Mind you, with no sense of direction, I needed a co-driver who could give me a running list of directions... It cannot have been a relaxing journey for her! Finally we arrived, parked up and I asked Ginny to remember where we had parked, otherwise we would have to walk home and I would never see my car again.
The Wales Millennium Centre is huge, intimidating and very pretty, well for a building anyway. The acoustics are spectacular and the stage is fabulous. But that is not the best bit, not by far. The best bit is that the seating is soft, comfortable and plush, even in the cheap seats! I love the Bristol Hippodrome, I truly do, but this was a step up in terms of luxury. Everything is shiny and new, the floors are polished, the air is fragrant and the views of the stage are really well designed, even with an ugly fat bald bloke slumped in the seat in front of you! The lighting is wonderful, every detail is clear and yes, I was blown away. My nerves faded along with my inhibitions (thanks to the pain killers I was forced to swallow... Thanks useless body!) and I was able at last to relax in my seat and wait for the show to begin.
I was in awe as soon as the curtain rose. The set, the costumes, the choreography. It opened with a coffin, upon which lay my favourite character of the entire show, Oscar, performed by Julie Martin du Theil, with whom I immediately fell in love. The character of Oscar is a young, possibly gay, Herald, performed by a soprano, but for me the winning moment came when Oscar slid from his Master’s coffin top to reveal the most magnificent costume of the evening. It was all leather, with huge Gothic boots, making the character look like a young Danni Filth of Cradle of Filth.
Photo credit:- The Welsh National Opera.
Once again, I am comparing classical music with black and death metal and as always, the comparison is worthy. The themes of this opera are dark, with images of Satanism, sacrifice and murder. This is in every blood soaked second, a truly Metal experience. The first act was for me the best, it is dark, occasionally evil and often sinister. My next favourite character was the Sorceress Ulrica, performed by the wickedly dark Sara Fulgoni. The dancers who played Ulrica’s servants were covered in brutal, but hilarious wounds that were soaked in red ribbons of gore, with the various implements of torture poking out of them. There were the usual knife and sword wounds, but also screwdrivers stuck in heads, hacksaws half way through limbs, scissors stabbed into backs, machetes embedded in brains... Every single one was brilliantly brutal and once again, just pure Black Metal.
Act two saw a less exciting and for me less enjoyable scene. The love torn Amelia performed by the always fabulous Mary Elizabeth Williams, is at the gallows gathering the magic herb needed to break the spell of love on her heart. The count who is in love with her watches in the distance, but given that she is married to his best friend, things are not going to end well for any of them. For me, this part of the show was the least interesting because it contained all of the heart break and misery of the piece. It was just far too nice, far to emotional and did not contain much of the mayhem and darkness of the first act. Mind you, the watchful foxes with their glowing red eyes were creepy and beautiful, while the full moon painting was breathtaking.
Act three sees the resolution of the piece and once again the costumes were fabulous, the music swelled and the lights were magnificent. As the party goers arrived at the masked ball (for which the show is named after) dressed in skeleton printed long coats, I desperately wanted one of the black ones to wear home. The wonderful Cassie may well have repaired my damaged velvet jacket, but the creepy and ghoulish skeleton coat would have been a prized piece indeed.
With the show ended and numerous bows taken so that the royal visitor could be whisked away before us plebs got in the way, I was left with my fingers in my ears because right behind me was sat a man whose clapping was a sonic weapon, probably commissioned by the Police in case anyone decided to have a pop at the royal guest. How one man can clap that hard and that loudly and still have hands left at the end appalled me. I can only imagine that he has had plenty of practice, clapping down concrete bunkers until all that remains is pulverised gravel and dust!
The drive home was somewhat more chaotic as lost drivers struggling to find the motorway swerved across lanes, almost as lost as I was. They badly needed a Ginny to navigate them too! Finally I arrived home, elated and still feeling pretty in my posh frock and make up. Taking it all off felt like I was stripping away something fabulous, removing something special that I did not want to lose.
I must now thank the following people. Firstly the whole cast of the Welsh National Opera, for their fantastic Black Metal performance. Cassie for my wonderful dress and jacket. Then most of all, my dear friend Ginny for all of her tolerance, kindness, support and navigating.
As for all of you, you absolutely must go and see the opera and support the arts in this country before they die out through falsely assumed snobbery and horrible feelings of impostor syndrome. Organisations like the WNO will not only welcome you into their home theatre, but they will do so with the open arms of friendship. If you have never seen an opera performed live or think that opera is not for you, choose one of their lighter ones, grab a good friend and go along. Trust me, I speak as a rancid Black Metal fan, opera really is for everyone and the Welsh National Opera are one of the best out there.
#welsh national opera#wales millennium centre#opera#live music#classical music#black metal#death metal#gothic music#arts#dressing up#dress making#Jolliff sewing and embroidery
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Back to Life (Biadore) - Chapter 12 - Taurus
Hey y'all! Thanks so much for all the positive feedback on the last chapter. As I said before I really struggled to write Chapter 11 so your feedback was really encouraging! I changed the ending of this chapter twice, I couldn’t decide what to do, but I hope you like how it turned out. There will probably be another chapter or two at least before I wrap this up, but worry not I’m not going anywhere after that! I’ll probably start taking prompts or requests for a new oneshot or fic whenever I wrap up Back to Life. I can’t believe we’re on Chapter 12! This is my first fic, and I originally submitted it as a one-shot. I was so happy with the response, and just with getting back into writing in general, that I ended up continuing. When I added a second chapter I really didn’t expect to get to 12, but your love and support has kept me going. I hope you’re all still enjoying this, let me know if you like where the story is going.
The Hollywood hills spilled out below them, the low-rise buildings beginning to light up as the sky swapped its bright blue shine in favour of a beautiful navy and orange evening. The sun was getting lower, it was in its final hour before it would disappear until morning, painting the world black. Roy and Danny watched it sink slowly into twilight, their hands woven together on Danny’s knee, Danny’s head resting on Roy’s shoulder. Their physical contact, though minimal, was calming, reassuring; the view breathtaking.
Talk. They wanted to talk. They needed to, they both knew it, but they were scared. Scared of what the other would way. Scared of what they would say. They sat in silence for a long time, just taking in the beauty of the moment, allowing themselves these moments of contentedness in each other’s company before they addressed reality.
Danny felt soothed by the sensation of Roy’s thumb tracing up and down his own, as he tried to figure out how he felt. He really didn’t know. He knew a couple of things for sure. One was that his friendship with Roy was one of the most important things in his life. He’d never had a friendship like it, with someone who was so completely different to him. Roy was logic and Danny was emotion. They viewed the world from totally differing perspectives, yet always seemed to come to the same conclusion. He needed that. Over the years, Roy had always helped him to see the bigger picture. Danny had a tendency to become overwhelmed by self-doubt, and sometimes anxiety, but Roy always knew just what to say to put things into perspective. Danny knew he softened Roy’s edges, taught him it was okay to feel things more deeply, that emotions weren’t weakness. They balanced each other out. They needed each other. Their presence in each other’s lives had to be protected above anything else.
Another thing he knew is that he’d never felt like this about someone before. They had the kind of connection he’d heard about in music, that all-encompassing, total understanding. It was like they sometimes didn’t need to speak about something, they’d just know how the other felt. And then there was the physical connection. Now he knew what people meant when they said people were made for each other. Roy had made him experience sex like he never had before, with real feeling and care, real pleasure in both submission and dominance. Roy knew precisely what to do with his body to set it alight. He always, always shocked Danny. Danny didn’t know where he’d find that again. It had only been a day since they’d fallen back into each other’s arms, but it had been one of the most beautifully intense days of Danny’s life. The more he thought about it, the more he sat here, saying nothing at all, with this beautiful man, the more he knew he loved him, and he couldn’t see that changing anytime soon.
The hardest thing was knowing that it wasn’t that simple. If he had met Roy in any other way, he’d be with him in a heartbeat, but Roy wasn’t just anyone. He was his friend, his co-worker, his supporter. He didn’t want a public relationship. He saw how that ended for Aaron and Justin. They had been completely, crazily in love before this whirlwind post-Drag Race life took them over. It was too hard, it didn’t work, and they lost each other for a while. He couldn’t handle that happening to him and Roy.
Their friendship was too important.
He loved Roy, and his feelings for him probably would never change.
Any relationship they might have would be too risky.
These three things, all equally true, just didn’t compute with Danny. They didn’t go together. They didn’t fit. There was no solution that would satisfy all of those things. It was a mess.
As the sun finally set, he felt Roy kiss him on the forehead, and he picked his head up to look into his eyes. They were dark, glassy and sad. It was heartbreaking. Sadness was not an emotion Danny had really seen in Roy before, but his eyes told of a sadness he hadn’t acknowledged aloud. Roy stared right back at him, searching for answers neither of them had, and Danny just wanted to kiss all of his pain away. So he did.
He took Roy’s face in his hands and claimed his lips. Roy responded with passion, their tongues meeting almost immediately, drinking each other in. It felt heady, and desperate. Roy grabbed Danny’s t-shirt, balling it in his hands. Something about this kiss felt different to Roy. He felt like he needed to get as much of Danny as he could, while he could. There was a new kind of urgency to the way they kissed that hadn’t been there before, a new sense of emotion. Roy could feel himself getting lost in Danny, lost in his kiss, and knew if he didn’t stop kissing him now, any hope of them figuring out what was going on between them would fly away. It was hard to stop, but he had to peel himself away. He started to pull back, peppering Danny’s lips with short pecks until he was able to stop for long enough to finally form a sentence.
“I’m sorry, Danny. I’m sorry I freaked out like that back there. I just… didn’t know what to do. I had you all to myself, and then those people saw us and reality hit.”
“I get it. Just please don’t shut down like that. I never know what you’re thinking.” Danny said, still cupping his cheeks before moving to take his hands. Roy looked down at their hands and sighed.
“I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking either.” said Roy, meeting Danny’s eyes. Danny nodded. It was uncomfortable seeing Roy unsure of himself. He always knew exactly what he wanted, and was one of the people Danny relied upon to guide him into certainty. Where Danny was chaotic, Roy was always structured, and Danny could see the uncertainty of the situation was making him uncomfortable. He didn’t want him to shut off out of fear. He wanted to understand.
“Roy, talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.” Danny said, taking in the wrinkle between his furrowed brows, the tenseness of the way he was sitting.
Roy wasn’t used to speaking frankly about what he was feeling. He was so used to deflecting personal questions with quick, witty retorts that he wasn’t sure when the last time someone really wanted to know his emotions was. He was used to being invulnerable, capable. Despite everything that had happened with him and Danny, this was the most exposed he’d felt yet. It felt different with him. He didn’t want to joke around. He wanted to be open.
“I’m scared.” he admitted. He hadn’t identified the emotion until he’d said it out loud.
Roy’s admission made Danny’s heart swell. On one hand, he hated seeing Roy look so vulnerable, it was almost disconcerting. He only wanted to see him smiling and laughing, it was one of the most pure sights in the world. On the other, it was a beautiful thing to see him let his guard down and acknowledge his feelings. He just hoped it wasn’t hurting him.
“Why are you scared?” he asked, concerned. Roy looked at him intently, his big green eyes glowing with empathy. One of the things he loved most about Danny was how kind and compassionate he was. He looked at Roy like he just wanted to take away all of his doubts and fears. Right now, Roy felt like he was the only person that could.
“Everything. I’m scared of everything that could go wrong.” he said frankly, and Danny squeezed his hands reassuringly. “What if I fuck this up? What if I lose you as a friend? I’d fucking hate that Danny. That can’t happen.”
“Well, that’s one thing you don’t have to be scared of, because I’ll never let that happen. You’re stuck with me as your friend no matter what.” Danny said, a cute smile crossing his face.
“I’m scared of this thing with us too… I don’t want people knowing my personal life, and if we keep going the fans are going to find out eventually, and I don’t know if I can handle that.” Danny nodded understandingly. Roy knew he had the same concerns.
“Well that, I don’t have an answer for.” said Danny, turning to look out over the hills. He looked sad.
Roy examined Danny’s features as he looked out over the LA city lights. Danny was an open book. Roy had always had little patience with emotional people, but Danny’s vulnerability was part of what made him so special. Since they first met and became friends via a borrowed corset, Danny had always brought out a nurturing side of Roy. Roy liked that part of himself, he felt like he was the best version of himself with Danny. As he studied Danny’s face, trying to figure him out, he thought of how far they’d come since that corset started it all. He still just wanted Danny to be happy.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Danny sighed, turning to face him. Roy couldn’t help but reach out and touch him, taking his face in his hand and circling his fingers into his hair. Danny’s eyes closed slowly, taking in the comforting sensation, before he met Roy’s eyes again.
“I don’t know.” he said. “Last night, today… they’ve been amazing. But we’re never together. We’re always on opposite sides of the country, or the world. I spent the last few weeks missing you like crazy. I already know I’m going to freak out when we go on our next tours, and we’re not even together. It would be so much worse if we were dating.”
Roy couldn’t help it. A huge grin spread over his face. As much as he hated the thought of Danny somber on the road, but it was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one who wanted to spend as much time as possible together.
“What are you smiling about, dick? I’m pouring my heart out here!” Danny said, smiling, playfully swatting Roy’s arm.
“Oh, just the fact that you can’t live without me.” Roy teased, earning a flick on the shoulder from Danny.
“I never said that, I have a fucking awesome time on the road, I just wish you were with me, like after Season 6.” Danny said.
Roy sighed, remembering his time spent on the road with Danny. They had seen the world together, as friends, and lived in a complete whirlwind. It was hard work, but so rewarding, and made better by having his friends around. He missed those days too.
“You know what the hardest part of this thing is?” Roy said, breaking the silence as Danny unconsciously massaged his hand.
“What?”
“I can’t control it.”
“What do you mean?”
“All that shit we just talked about, it terrifies me. Losing you, people knowing my business, being apart… they’re all this reasons we should stop this. They’re the reasons we have to stop.”
Danny dropped Roy’s hand and edged away, his heartbeat thumping. Was Roy ending this?
“Look at me.” Roy said, tilting Danny’s chin to look at him.
“Danny, you know me. Fuck, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You know I like to be in control of my shit. I know all the reasons I can’t do this with you, but I’m looking at you now and all I want to do is kiss you. I’m trying to rationalise this and I can’t, I can’t get past the way I feel around you and it’s scaring the shit out of me.”
Danny kissed Roy’s hand before leaning his cheek into it, smiling at him. “So what if you can’t control it? Maybe that’s the best part. Maybe it’s nice to just see what happens, and go with what feels good.”
Danny was surprised at the words coming out of his mouth. He had all the same reservations as Roy, but when they were in each other’s company that didn’t seem to matter at all. He couldn’t help but feel butterflies at Roy’s confessions. He never thought Roy would be so upfront about his feelings.
“What are you thinking?” Roy asked,
“I’m fucking scared.” Danny said. Roy laughed, even though he knew Danny was being serious. Danny loved saying he was scared, it was one of his many catchphrases, and the way he said it always cracked Roy up.
“What?!” Danny said incredulously, glaring at Roy, which only made him laugh more. Roy had such a silly high pitched giggle that it made Danny laugh too. It didn’t match his cutting one-liners at all, it was so childlike and pure.
The laughter began to die down, and it struck Roy that they were still no closer to knowing what was actually going on between them.
“Danny, what are we going to do?” Roy sighed, rubbing his forehead. He knew how he felt.
“Well, what do you want?” Danny asked. Roy looked at him. He was always mesmerised by how wild and bright his eyes shone. He’d never seen eyes that naturally green before, they were enchanting.
He thought about the fans, the intrusion. He thought about missing Danny, having to put his trust in him on the road. He thought about how hard he found dating in general with his schedule. He thought about breaking up and losing him. They should just be friends, that was the sensible thing to do.
He took Danny’s hands again. That little touch felt electric, and Roy was a goner. It was hopeless trying to deny his feelings.
He thought about all of the reasons they should just be friends, and right now, looking at this adorable, stunning, amazing, frustrating, hilarious and complex man, the only thing that seemed worse than those reasons was not even giving this a chance. If there was one thing that was clear, it was that Danny had his heart, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“I want you.” he said, and he felt light at the sight of Danny breaking into a beautiful, toothy grin. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, he looked like he was tearing up. Danny shifted over, sitting right into his space, cupping his face.
Any doubts Danny had flew away at the sound of those three words. Roy wanted him. Roy was following his heart rather than his head, and Danny knew at that moment that Roy was just as far gone as he was. They couldn’t stop.
“I want you too.” Danny said, leaning in and taking Roy’s lips in the perfect kiss.
They were completely screwed, in the best way possible.
———-
… So yeah, I planned to make this chapter angsty, sad, fighty and break-uppy but I literally couldn’t put them through it lol. I’m a sap. - T x
#biadore#bianca del rio#adore delano#taurus#back to life#fluff#rpdr fanfiction#submission#canon compliant
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What a wild 3 days! Okay, here’s what’s been going down-
We hopped on our 8.5 hr flight to London, excited, and full of hope! We ate plane curry, napped, and farted quite a bit. Got our connection to Amsterdam, and rolled in Wednesday night, thrilled to be in one of the best cities (in my humble opinion) in the world. Dutch cuisine is all snacks, so we immediately went to town on fries and pancakes. We wandered the streets, taking in the beauty, and called it a night, as it had been many many hours of travel. Because jet lag is fun, I woke up at 3:30am. To 20 text messages of all y’all freaking out. Kick it to 100, pure panic mode, here we go. Woke up Cait and Danny, and started devising a plan. Called many many people, got a plane ticket, went back to the airport 12 hours after landing, turns out the plane ticket is shit, and head back into town. Everyone we spoke to (embassy, friends in government, DOH people) advised us to stay, as US citizens are not included in the ban. So here we are, enjoying our vacation.
We were back to our hostel by 8am Thursday, so we refueled. napped like champs, and then headed out towards the Anne Frank house for C&D to take the tour. Amsterdam is one of my favorite places to be, because the only thing on the itinerary is to wander the streets, look at pretty things, and eat treats. Truly a vacation for me, compared to some of my other crazy trips. Many espressos and some of the best dim sum we’ve ever had later, we decided to go bowling and hell yeah was that a fun decision! We rocked handy dandy gloves, threw all the balls, and went home on a celebratory high.
This morning we decided to check out of the hostel and check into a hotel to be further from groups of people. The museums here are closed, and many things are cancelled, so we may cut our trip short and come home after the weekend. We still have our plane ticket to come home Thursday, but will try to move it up. Until then, we’ll continue to stuff ourselves with treats, and wander the streets.
We’re not panicked, so there’s no need for y’all to panic. And if you could please stop panicking to us, it really doesn’t help our anxiety. We’re staying on top of it. Chill and wash your hands ✌🏻😘
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