#fuck he's got the goddamn chaps on again
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Stem the Tide
Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word count: 5.7k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, TW blood, CW injury, TW death, CW vomit mention.
Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist
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CHAPTER 8 >>> CHAPTER 9
There's water in your lungs.
Hobie's injuries scream at him to stop swimming, but he doesn't, not until he swims you to safety. He has you placed on a piece of the revenge, a shattered part of it, all splintered wood and sharp edges that dig into his skin.
The storm has subsided, the sea monsters went back into the water, the thought should ease him but he'd rather have the beasts within eyesight if possible. The sky is still dark and blue, the sun is just about waking up to the carnage floating on the depths.
His other half is paddling away from the trenches where the creatures could lie in wait. Eyes gradually searching for his crew but his main priority is you. You who haven't opened your eyes, you who haven't breathed nor moved. He worries, grief calling for him once again.
The fear of losing you is the only thing keeping him moving.
His arms ache as he tries to restart your heart. Pounding and pushing into your chest, doing his best not to crack any of your ribs. Chapped lips breathing life into you, inflating your lungs, chest heaving up but you don't expel the water. He ignores the freezing water; it's almost as cold as your skin, still it burns him with every touch he gives you.
You haven't breathed on your own for a long while.
He curses himself, wishes that he got to you faster but with all the jaws coming towards him he had to dodge in the water and with all the strong currents he let you drown. Fuck, why wasn't I fast enough? He thinks, guilt chewing him.
“C’mon, Scuttlebutt. Fuckin' breathe.”
Hobie sees land ahead so he paddles faster.
He sucks in air, then blows into your icy mouth. Pumping and pushing, his muscles are threatening to give out.
“Not you,” tears brimming in his eyes, the sun peeks in the horizon, illuminating your lifeless face. “Please, not you too.”
A large wave almost sweeps the two of you off the raft, he protects you with his own battered body. The wave helped, the makeshift raft beaching on the sandy shores of the unknown island.
He pounds his palms continuously on your chest. Thump, thump, thump. The sound echoes in his ears like death knells.
Nothing.
Your lips are turning an unnatural shade. He doesn't focus on it, instead Hobie leans in, breathing into you once again, moving his head down, he listens intently for a sign of your heart beating.
He can't even hear a faint beating.
“Fuck!” He continues the cycle, palms compressing on your chest, mouth giving you air straight from within him. “Open your goddamn eyes!”
Hobie yells your name, full of anguish and denial. He won't give up because if it was you in his shoes, you wouldn't have.
His sobs wracked his body, yet he does it again and again and again. He can't even look at your face anymore because if he fails, he doesn't want to remember your lifeless face, instead he'd want to remember you smiling, smiling at his crew, smiling at whatever joke Pav said, smiling at him.
He'll do anything to see it again. The crew can't lose you.
He can't lose you,
“No!” In his desperation, he hammers his fist harshly on your chest.
Nothing.
He does it again. Thrashing and drumming.
Nothing.
Hobie closes his eyes, leaning down to breathe life into you one last time. He's tired, too tired to continue. Lips lingering on yours, he holds onto you tight, refusing to let go.
You wake up to lips pressing on yours and salty water rising quickly from your lungs.
Gasping and coughing, you feel calloused fingers push your body to the side as you vomit out all the water. Eyes stinging, hands digging into the sand.
You hear relieved laughter behind you, hand gripping to your shoulder, the other rubbing gently on your back.
Spitting the last salty water out of your body, you fall back on the wooden raft, eyes adjusting to the sunlight. Hobie greets you with a tired smile, fatigued yet he still finds it in himself to grin from ear to ear.
The sun blankets behind him, bathing him in its light, piercings shining, and like fate's practical joke, there's a halo behind his head.
“Please don't tell me we both died and now we both ended up in the same place.” You joke with a hoarse voice. Tongue still tasting salt. “I can barely handle you while alive and now I have to be with you even in death?”
He laughs, the sound louder than the waves on the shore. “That's the first thing you say after almost dying? Miles is right, you use humour as a crutch.” with a shaking hand, he cups your cheek, laying his forehead against your own, resisting the urge to lay his head above your chest to listen to your heartbeat, just to make sure he isn't hallucinating.
You exhale against his face, breath fanning his eyelashes, it's enough proof that death has decided to give him reprieve.
“We're not dead?” You close your eyes, savoring his presence. Hands clasped around his wrist, feeling for his pulse.
He's not dead.
“No,” he leans away, relief under his sigh. “We're alive.”
You chuckle, ghosting your thumb across the gashes on his cheek. “You did good.”
Hobie shakes his head with a smile, rolling on his back, he falls on the sand softly, arms spread out. The once white sand turns into a shade of pink under him, reminding you of his injuries.
“I did good.” Eyes closed, hand reaching towards your side, he grasps your blouse in his palm like you'd fade away if he lets go of you for even a second. The cloth is warm on his skin, realizing that you're injured.
Your cough and groan was enough to ignite his adrenaline once again.
With a hand, you stop him from moving frantically. You inhale a sharp breath, “We need a fire going.” Sitting up on your own, shivering from the cold. He observes with his hands hovering over you.
“Alright, just stay here, I'll light it.”
“No, let me help.” Your wheezing says otherwise.
Hobie grasps your chin, lifting it to face him. Your skin is on fire, he smiles at life coming back to your body. “You drowned,” he doesn't want to say the other word or it might come true. “I think that trumps over a couple of stab wounds.”
“A couple?!” You blink in surprise. “Hobie—”
“Just a few slashes. Stay here, don't cause trouble, trouble. Captain's orders.”
“You're so fucking annoying.” You flop down on the raft, gripping your weeping wound, teeth chattering.
“You could say ‘thank you’ for once.” he teases in an attempt to bring back normalcy. Staring at your sand crusted hair, seafoam draped around you, he's glad he didn't give up in saving you just for him to get a glimpse of this view.
You stare at him through wet lashes, a small pout on your warming lips. “I'm losing blood, captain.”
The simple sentence gets him to clamp up, face suddenly serious.
“Bring me a coconut!” You yell, pout replaced with a small smile. You hide your wincing with a bite of your lip, drawing blood. Looking at him upside down, he has his hands on his hips, shaking his head.
“You're insufferable.” He quotes you before immediately jogging over towards the tropical forest behind you.
“And I, you.” You whisper into nothingness, touching your lips with the pads of your fingers.
—
The fire cackles next to you, the flames dance in your vision just like the fire that devoured the revenge. Smoke fills your lungs again, you cover your nose with your arm, eyes closed, trying to forget what happened. What you did.
Hobie holds a circular pendant tied to a stick, the metal glows red hot, the engraving of a wave twirls as he moves it closer to you.
You clutch the back of your head, it still stings when you press down, at least you're not freezing and wet anymore thanks to the fire next to you.
“How do I do this?” He asks, eyes flicking to your pained face.
“Just place the metal on top of my wound for a few seconds then take it off immediately. I don't want a piece of metal in me.” Your voice is muffled by your arm.
“Show me.”
Lifting up your blouse, you hiss, fabric sticking to the angry wound, revealing where the bullet pierced you. “He nicked me so there's no bullet to take out.”
“Less work for us then. Ready?”
“Yes, just use the plain side. I don't want it to leave a mark.”
“Bad news, scuttlebutt. It'll leave a mark.”
“Not what I meant. The wave, I don't want it to leave a shape.”
“I know.” Without warning, he places the bare side of the pendant on your wound. Skin sizzling, you bite into your arm, yells tamped down. Other hand gripping into his elbow. It's an unimaginable pain, you can't believe Hobie survived through two of these.
He flings it away, careful not to add to your pain. “You alright?”
You heave, a tear escaping from your eye. “I guess I deserved that.” Looking at him through half lidded eyes, he gives you a weak smile.
“You would've flinched.”
“You're right, I would've flinched. At least I'm honest about it.” You let the air kiss your searing skin. Letting your head fall on the tree trunk behind you, He watches you like you're already dead. “It was a joke, Hobie—”
“What happened to you? Below deck?” He shakes his head, glaring at your neck. You instinctively hide it under your hand, it's still tender to the touch.
“Had a run in with a very bad man. I got him though…” you nudge him with your foot. “I'm—” you can't find the right words. “I'm sorry about the ship, I had to defend myself, I didn't know the fire would—”
“The ship was already gone the moment Mathias found us.” Those grey eyes look at you intensely, remnants of the storm still leave traces behind them. “Don't apologize, you got him, that's all that matters.”
“I burned him alive, Hobie.” You blurt it out, confessing your sins. “I shot a man. I–I don't…It matters that I did that.”
He sits closer, leaving the searing metal next to him on the fire. Holding your knee, he tentatively touches your hand before he reaches for it fully. Skin meeting skin, hand holding yours, the same grey eyes soften for you.
“Let it matter then. But don't let it in, don't let them try to kill you a second time. Bury their bodies if you have to but don't mourn them.”
“Can we do that? Bury them? Not metaphorically, even without the bodies.”
“Yes, if you want to. I'll help you dig.”
You nod, gliding your thumb along the ridges of his hand. After a beat, you swallow a lump in your dry throat. “I can still hear his screams.” avoiding his eyes, you look down at the grains of sand, your tears leave patches of darker soil in its wake.
Hobie squeezes your hand. “I'll quiet it down for you.”
“How?” you look at him, eyes questioning, eyes weeping.
“I'll talk over it, make you listen to something else other than the screaming.”
You give him a tight lipped smile, forced, tears threatening to fall. You can't ignore their faces anymore. “Finn, Ned and—”
“We'll bury them too, and we'll mourn them. They deserve that much.”
“They deserve more, Hobie. Much more.” he pulls you in, seeking comfort from each other. Arms enveloping you. You let him take you in, his scent replacing the smoke clinging to your lungs.
“They do,” Mindful of each other's injuries, you lay your head on his uninjured shoulder, face buried on the crook of his neck. He does the same, nose kissing your skin. “they deserve better.”
He finds that his arms are molded to fit you.
“The others? Do you know they're alright?”
“I saw them escape, that's all I know.” You lean away, looking at him with worry. “We'll find them, but knowing Gwen they'll find us first, yeah?” he cups your jaw. “We'll get out of here, I promise.”
“I'll hold you to that.” You nod, leaving his warmth, back landing on the wood, letting yourself fall back to your old ways.
Hobie still has his hands shaped to fit you. “We have to survive first.” He taps your shoe. “Do mine next.” He lifts up his shirt, showing you all the angry gashes like a prized trophy. “Then our scars will truly match.”
—
Shoes discarded on the sand, you wade through the seafoam with Hobie. The sun glares, puffy clouds shielding you from the heat. A breeze passes by, seagulls squawk above.
“We could eat those.” He pipes up, kicking something under the sand.
“The sand?”
“The birds, thought you were supposed to be the smart one.” Leaning down, he grabs something red buried in the sand. “Help me with this.”
You stretch your shoulders, careful of your own injuries. Copying his stance, you both pull. “How do we even catch one?”
“Pistol, a spear or a trap.” He does all the work of pulling while you're still aching. His injuries still hurt but he'd rather do all the work than let you strain yourself. “Trust me, after eating fish for three days straight, you'd beg for something else to eat.”
“You think we'll be stuck here for three days?” you tug in sync, pulling it with all your strength.
“Maybe more—” he scoffs, finally hauling the fabric out. “It's our sail. Bloody hilarious.” the crimson lay half buried in the sand, tattered.
Ned would hate seeing it like this.
You trace the stitching around the edges, remembering how his expert hands once weaved around it.
“Oi” he brushes his knuckles on your hand to get your attention. You feel his broken skin briefly. “We could use this as our roof.”
“Mm-hmm, you do that and I'll continue searching around the shore. Maybe my satchel got washed up too” you let go of the cloth, already walking away.
“Nah, I'll come with.” He bunches up the sail in his arms, drowning his entire body in red.
Crimson like the eyes of the beast.
You shake your head, giving him a faint smile. “We can't stay together the entire time we're here. We'd drive each other crazy.”
Hobie catches up to you, wide strides and long legs sauntering over to your side. “Good thing I'm already bonkers.” he passes by you, looking over his shoulders to see your wide eyes looking at him. “Hurry up before the sun sets.”
You shake your head, jogging to walk by his side. “I bet in three days we'd start killing each other.”
He snorts. “I beg to differ.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
After a minute of walking along the beach, you find a washed up crate. Hobie opens it with the butt of his gun, punching a hole straight through. You pray that it's medical supplies or at least food.
He laughs, clutching his side, leaning on the box. Beckoning your confused self, he drapes his arm around your shoulder, showing you the contents.
You blink confused at the brown bricks. “Is this tea?”
He continues to chuckle like he heard an inside joke that you're not privy to. Taking one in his hand, he weighs it, surprised that it wasn't damaged by the sea water, he thanks whoever packed it well.
Opening the packaging, he brings it close to your nose. “Here.”
You flinch back, burnt skin tugging on your side. “What the hell! I'm not smelling that!”
He laughs louder, you wonder if his injuries ache too. “Just smell it and tell me what you think it is.”
“No! What if it's solid shit?”
“It's not! Solid shit? Really?” His broken lips hurt as he smiles wider. “Do you not trust me?”
You suck in your teeth, “fine, if this is shit I'm drowning myself.” With apprehension, you lean forward to sniff. “Is that?” You sniff again, this time with a laugh. “Holy shit!”
“It's bloody chocolate.” You grab his hand, smelling the sweet treat. “Guess you got your wish. An entire crate of ‘em too.”
“I can't fucking believe that it hasn't melted yet!” He hands you the entire bar and you grin. You both guessed that one of the navy ships was carrying it. “We only need a crate full of alcohol and we're good.”
Hobie clasps your arm, “We can stay here forever if we do find one.”
“Fuck off.” You say in between laughs. “I'm not staying here forever—” your smile falters, fear enters your body.
“What?” He turns around, following your line of sight.
A body, there's a body washed up on the shore. It's draped in a blue uniform and seaweed, seagulls land near it, tentatively pecking.
“Stay here.” He murmurs, draping the sail on top of the crate. You grasp his hand before he leaves your side. “Y/N, stay here.”
“No, what if he's still alive?” you hold on to him tighter.
He nods, eyes roaming your tensed face, your shoulders are straight, eyes staying on the body. “Alright, but walk behind me, yeah?”
You nod.
With every step, your fear encapsulates you further down to your feet, the warmth on your soles keeps you alert. Yet, your hand stays on the cold hilt of your dagger.
Hobie kicks the corpse, it stays unmoving. A group of crabs start to scavenge the body, pinching and taking skin.
“He's dead. No need to worry.” He looks at you over his shoulder, glancing at your tight grip on the dagger.
“What if we're not the only ones here?” your breath shudders at the thought.
“I'll sweep the island—”
“We'll sweep the island.”
He doesn't protest, knowing you won't take no for an answer. “Fine, just—” grabbing your hands, he fixes your hold on the dagger, guiding your fingers around the hilt. You freeze on the spot. “There, better.” He tugs at the weapon, it doesn't budge in your hold. “Now they can't take it from you. Don't let them take it away from you.”
“I won't, I promise.”
—
The island is small, smaller than you thought it would be. Green foliage and tropical trees cover half of the island. Dry leaves crunch under your foot, critters slither and chatter under the tall grass, making you conscious of where you land your feet. The rays of the sun peek behind the tree tops. Exotic sounding birds sing above the branches, their rainbow feathers fly overhead, leaving a breeze to flutter against your cheeks.
You almost run into Hobie when he stops abruptly. He whistles out, reaching blindly behind him to grasp your hand.
“Come on.”
Surprisingly enough, you don't let go, locking your fingers around his, letting the warmth course through your skin.
You hear rushing water.
“We're fuckin' lucky.” He pauses, watching you peek from behind to see what's in front.
You're in awe at the small waterfall, misty water cascading like unfurled silk; it splashes cool water down into a plunge pool. Before you know it, Hobie's stripping down to his knickers.
“Woah! A bit of a warning!” You cover your eyes quickly.
He hoots before you hear a loud splash.
Hobie calls your name, you can hear his smile from how he utters it.
“It's fresh water! We can drink this!” He yells over the sound of the waterfall.
“I'm not drinking your bath water!” You still avoid him, glancing all over the place except for where he swims.
“The water isn't stagnant! It's clean! Come over here!”
“No!”
“I'm not fuckin' naked, Y/N! Just fuckin' come here.”
With a stomp of your foot and a click of your tongue, you glance at him, avoiding staring at his bottom half.
“Someone else could still be here, Hobie and you're relaxing!”
“No one's here, trust me. We've swept the entire place, there's no one here. Jus’ us” He floats and you immediately look away. Laughing, he lets the water wash over him.
“Well I'm glad you're having fun!” You say sarcastically. “But I'll walk around so you don't get stabbed in the water.”
“I can finally teach you how to swim! Get in!” He teases, knowing you won't actually swim with him while he's practically in his birthday suit.
“Nope!” You walk away but still staying close to him. “Maybe when you're not naked I'll reconsider!”
“Suit yourself! Wait!” You pause, “Stay close, yeah?”
Nodding, you wave with the dagger.
You walk around the area, avoiding colorful flowers that you're too afraid to touch. Hands grazing the top of the tall grass, you gasp when a familiar plant catches your sight.
“What?!” You hear Hobie shout, “you alright?!”
“I'm fine!” You yell back. “Keep floating like a turd!”
He laughs, a second later you hear splashing.
—
You sit on the banks of the pool, tired muscles sagging into the dirt, your pockets are full of medicinal herbs. You're just glad you found the right plants that can help to stave off infection. If only you had a mortar and pestle then it'll help with digesting the bitterness better.
Drawing swirling patterns on the dirt with your dagger, you don't look at him, only flicking your eyes to see if he hasn't drowned from napping in the water. He floats aimlessly, skin glistening under the sun, toned chest and scars in full display. You huff, moving your eyes away from his body. Yet your mind wonders where he got them, it's better to think about it than letting your mind wander back to what happened on the revenge and your almost death.
The slight sting of your injuries helps keep you awake at least.
“You hungry?” You almost jump when he suddenly appears on the edge of the pool, arms tucked under his chin, grey eyes looking expectantly at you.
“A little. You?”
“Starving. We're gonna need to make a shelter soon.” Hobie twists in place, head resting on the ground, face staring up at the afternoon sky.
You scooch closer, he smiles when your upside down face fills his vision. “Do you know where we are?”
“No, I'm guessing we're in one of the thousand islands. We were near it when we—Just be glad that we didn't land on a cannibal island.”
“There's no such thing.” He reaches up, wiping the sweat off your brow. “Right?” you almost lean into his touch.
“We got attacked by a bloody sea monster, ‘m sure there's an island somewhere with cannibals.”
“True.” You shrug, trying not to remember what the beasts look like or even sound like. “Did you piss your pants too when they came up from the water?” Teasing, you fall into relaxation with him.
“No, I shat myself.” You laugh loudly. Hobie thinks he has the best seat in the house. “Can't fuckin' believe they're real.” He can't believe you're real.
“Still feels like a dream. Someone has to know those things exist.” The sun illuminates the side of your face, lighting up your features. He can't help but reach up again with the same excuse to wipe your face. “Thanks, I'm sweating a lot.”
“Really? I haven't noticed.” You roll your eyes. “Maybe if you take a dip then—”
“Nope.” To his dismay, you move away from his view. “Come on, fishman, we need to get started on shelter.”
“I just said that.” He stands up, groaning along the way, you look away. “and really? Fishman? That the best you can do, stinky?”
“Stinky?” You cross your arms on your chest, hearing clothes shuffle behind you. “What are you five?”
“Could say the same thing to you,” his face suddenly appears on your shoulder. You yelp, groaning comically, briskly walking away in annoyance. “Wrong way, scuttlebutt.”
You turn heel, trudging in a different direction while he chuckles.
—
Standing in knee deep sea water, the sun beaming down, soft sand under your toes and your stomach growling to be fed, you stand near Hobie whose trousers are folded up to his knees. The water laps at your legs, warm enough to be comfortable but cool enough to keep you in the water. Tiny fish weave around your legs, their fins brushing your skin.
“There!” you point too fast that you pull a muscle but you pay it no mind when Hobie misses the fish again with his makeshift spear.
“Fuck!” The spear is sticking out of the sand, Hobie who is equally starving kicks the water, it splashes all over your blouse.
Great, you're hungry and wet.
You huff loudly, frustrated like the man next to you. “I'm hungry.”
“I know.” He says flatly. Taking out the spear, he aims again.
The fish wiggle in the water like it's mocking Hobie.
“Maybe we can survive eating chocolates and coconut for the rest of our days?” You wipe the sweat off the back of your neck. “Or I can start catching some crabs.”
“Fuck this!” He yells, drawing his gun, he shoots at the fish, the bullet hits the water like a tiny cannonball, splashing you again.
It's a bullseye.
You scream when he grabs the still bleeding fish. Hobie smiles wildly, yelling triumphantly.
You both jump up and down in the water giddily.
—
The fire roars in front of you, your dinner needs some seasoning but it's better than sleeping hungry with only chocolate to fill your stomach. Times like this you miss Finn's cooking, and him.
Hobie looks at you through the fire, he's thinking of the same thing. Wishing that he wasn't.
“What kind of fish is this?” you break the quiet to stop your thoughts.
“The edible kind.”
“You have no idea do you?” Narrowing your eyes at him, you scoff.
“Fuck if I know.” Hobie shrugs, scrunching his nose.
“You're a pirate.” You stop chewing.
“Yes and? I'm not a bloody fisherman.”
“I thought you'd know, because you're in the sea most of the time.”
“Fishing was James’ job not mine.”
“Kinda wishing James was here then.” You murmur but he still hears.
“Give me your bloody fish, you ungrateful bastard.” he reaches towards you and in turn you pull your fish away from him.
“No!” he chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head before silence drapes over the peace you've both created.
You keep munching on the plain mystery fish. Hobie was kind enough to catch (shoot) another fish so you don't have to share one. It's flaky in your hands, now you smell like sweat, blood and fish. The greatest smell combination in the world.
You chew, “I need new clothes.” and a bath but you'll never admit it to Hobie.
“That bloke has some,” he points with his chin at the dead body, laying further at the beach.
“Ew, I'd rather stay in these.” You grimace, looking down at the tattered and singed cloth that's holding on to its last leg.
“I don't mind that, I can actually see your elbows from here.” he smirks, trying to look flirty but with him chomping on a fish head it ended up looking more hilarious than cute.
“My elbows? Oh you pervert.” Yet there's heat behind your cheeks even when his own cheek is covered in fish scales. “Should we bury him?” you change the subject.
“We should or it'll stink,” he flicks his grey eyes at you, the simple act wakes up the butterflies in your stomach, or maybe that's the fish. “like you.”
“I don't stink” a lie of course.
Hobie laughs into his half eaten fish. “I can smell you from here.”
“No you don't, that's the fish!”
“What's the difference?”
You flick a fin at him, it hits him on his head, sticking to his hair. Laughing, you take another bite, something hard almost breaks your tooth. You stop giggling, spitting out a round metallic thing.
Realization hits you, Hobie peeks at your hand,
His sudden loud guffaw makes you throw the bullet at him. He dodges it, still laughing hard and with a fish fin stuck to his hair.
“This is why fishermen don't shoot at fish!” You end up cackling too, finding his laughter contagious. “I almost bit into it!”
He guffaws louder, hiding his face and you get a full view of the fin on his hair. You shake your head, standing up to sit next to his shaking form.
“Stop moving! Let me get that thing off.” You grab it, throwing it into the fire.
His laughter subsides, staring at you with those stormy eyes. He sniffs, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for you to say something that could hurt or for him to say something that would make you leave. But you don't and he stays silent. Just reveling in each other's presence.
You read his expression, his lips still hidden under his hand but his eyes say everything. You don't want to ruin the night but you have to tell him or it'll eat at you, not letting you sleep and you ending up looking at him with pity and grief. You don't want that, you want to continue to look at him like you've recently found out from Miles, with reverence and fondness that's out of your reach.
“I'm sorry.” Your words don't hurt him but your expression brings a pang in his heart. “About…everything.”
“‘s not your fault.” Grief knocks on his door and he refuses to answer. “Nothin' to be sorry about.”
“Feels like it is.”
“You're not the one who killed them.” Grief tries to barge in on him, he blocks the door, still refusing to let it in. “There's nothin' to forgive.”
“Still, I'd like to apologize. They were good men.” Against your own better judgment, you take his hand, he doesn't flinch away, even twisting his hand to hold yours properly.
“Do you want to say goodbye? To them?” he murmurs like he isn't sure of it himself.
Hobie refuses to let it in, not again, not in front of you.
“Yes, but we'll do it once you're ready.” You whisper to him like the world could hear his secret.
Hobie sighs. Heart aching, he doesn't want to say goodbye, if it was up to him he'd never—
“Hobie?” You call his name softly, “If you need help with silencing the screams,” a shaky breath escapes you. “I'm here.”
He frowns, seeing her face and not yours for a brief second. Changing tune, he takes his hand away. “Thanks.” It's your turn to frown.
You inhale, “I'll go grab us some water for uh cleaning our wounds. I'll clean them before bed.” Walking away, you leave him alone with his thoughts, he hopes you turn back around, but you don't.
—
Hobie takes first watch, torso exposed to the sea wind, letting it calm the searing pain of his injuries. He observes for any boats or ships on the horizon, even hoping for a box full of medical supplies to wash ashore.
He rubs his heavy eyes, it's supposed to be your turn but he lets you sleep in, after everything he'd let you rest as long as you need to. Looking over his shoulder, the simple act makes him wince. He stares at your sleeping face, calm and angelic under the warmth of the fire, and he can't help but feel jealous. You're situated under the shabby shelter, protected by the red sail that's fluttering in the breeze. Foot twitching, you scrunch up your nose in your sleep,
Chuckling, he turns back around to face the beach.
There's still nothing but seagulls flying above the water and crabs digging into the sand.
Yawning, he shakes his head wildly to keep awake. So he decides to walk around the beach, stretching his throbbing muscles.
As Hobie kicks the sand between his toes, he finds himself standing next to the navy man's corpse. He stares at the lifeless eyes, lips blue, skin so pale it blends in with the sand. The crabs still eat the remains, pinching and taking bits. He scoffs, knuckles shaking, nails leaving crescent shapes on his palms.
He doesn't deserve to be buried, Hobie thinks. And he definitely doesn't need her pity. So he takes the man's legs, slowly dragging it down to the shore until it floats. The rush of waves wakes him up, cold water dousing his lower half. Hobie pushes it away roughly, letting the tides take it, letting the sea claim it like it has claimed his friends.
He watches it slowly drift away, yet his anger doesn't subside. The fire in him is still burning ever brighter. He mentally promises the crew he lost that he'll avenge them. That he'll get Mathias, even if it kills him.
Your screams bring him back to reality. Bolting away, wading through the water, the sand hinders his sprinting, he quickly runs to your side.
“Oi, oi!” Hobie watches your terrified face morph into relief when you see him. “What's wrong? Crab in your knickers?” He stops his joking when tears slide to your cheeks, your entire body is shaking. His chest heaves at your sobbing. Voice cracking when he utters your name, Hobie lets you breathe, holding on to your shoulders firmly.
You stare at him through the tears. “I–I dreamt that you left me here.” His façade breaks into two. “And I w–woke up and you weren't here. I thought—”
“I would never. I won't leave.” You continue to weep so he holds you, not to make you stop but to help steady you through it. He'd hold onto you every minute of every day if he has to.
It's frightening how well you two fit together, limbs tangled around one another. Like a pair of wings, one cannot fly without the other. And that terrifies you through the embrace.
“I'm s-sorry, I really thought.” You find your place atop his chest, face buried on his skin, his scars kissing your cheeks. Hands gripping to the small of his back, your nails almost digging.
“‘m here, ’m not leaving you, promise.” Hobie intends to keep it, not for your sake but for his.
#bdas#between the devil and the sea#between the devil and the sea series#between the devil and the sea chapter 8#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#the kr8tor's creations#hobie brown#atsv fanfiction#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#hobie brown x fem!reader#spider punk x fem!reader#pirate hobie#pirate! hobie x reader#pirate au#pirate! hobie? pirate! hobie!#cw injury#cw food mention#tw blood#tw death#fanfic#hobie brown x you#spider punk x you#hobie x reader#hobie fluff
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Still working on the 'rules' of this end of the universe, but I think we're getting a good start on The Darkening Sky: MOTA.
"Looks like we've got a couple of ladies around," Gale said, lightly curious as a couple of the ground crews zipped by in jeeps, all chapped faces and pigtails.
"Lousy with 'em," Egan reported, sounding none too pleased about it. "Air crew, ground crew, weatherwomen. I wish that Warren woman had fucking stayed home."
"You know she's from Wyoming?" Gale said, mostly to DeMarco. "Her grandfather was the state governor."
"I don't care if he was the goddamn president of the United States," Egan interjected angrily. "Having women over here ain't helping us do shit."
"What's this - John Egan has a bad opinion of the fairer sex?" Gale could only smile. "John, has someone hurt you since I've seen you last?"
"No," Egan said, though he still sounded mighty sore about it. "We've got a lady looey running the control tower who's a goddamn pain in my ass."
Gale exchanged a look with DeMarco and raised his eyebrows, and DeMarco grinned back. Oh, so that's how it is.
Egan began to drive them back, giving them the tour as they went - runway, taxiway, hard stands - and finally the control tower, checkerboarded against the sky. Egan parked the jeep and took the stairs two at a time up to the observation level. There were four women, stationed inside the glasshouse, each of them wearing headsets and watching the runway from their stations. The single woman standing turned around and glimpsed the three of them through the glass, her neutral face deepening into a frown before she excused herself and stepped outside to the tower's observation deck. (She looked like she was ready to run interference, the way she was standing between Egan and the door.)
But Egan, it seemed, was ready, his hands already up, "Don't shoot, I'm just giving the new fellows a tour. Buck, Ben, this Lieutenant Callaway, our Control Officer. Lieutenant Callaway, this is Major Gale Cleven, and Captain Benny DeMarco."
The lieutenant nodded, keeping her arms firmly crossed over her chest. She was around their age, with dark hair pulled back into a tight roll and was wearing trousers - practical, probably, for the wind they got up here. She had a way of standing that told Buck that she was not in the business of being easily moved - and staring down John with an expression that could only mean that the pain in the ass feeling was mutual. "Sir."
"Does Lieutenant Callaway have a first name, or do you just not feel like being neighborly with it?" Gale asked, trying to be pleasant, looking between the two of them with faint but growing interest.
"It's Cordelia, but I think Lieutenant will be just fine, for now, Major."
Gale nodded, filing that away with John's earlier remarks. "Heard and acknowledged, Lieutenant. Nice to put a face with a voice after the landing. Looking forward to working with you."
Callaway nodded, and returned to her post, though she continued glancing over her shoulder until she was convinced they were all really leaving.
"She seems nice," DeMarco ventured, glancing again at Cleven as they headed down the stairs and back to Egan's jeep.
Egan scoffed. "Nice, ha. She's a goddamn iceberg. Had me written up for handing out a few compliments to her crew one night - said I was unprofessional, and a threat to group morale."
"The way you go through girls, Bucky, you would be," DeMarco said with a grin. "They take stuff like that personally, you know."
Egan rolled his eyes. "Remind me why the hell I'm friends with you jokers?" He looked at the two of them and scowled at two very knowledgeable smiles. "Oh, get out of my jeep. You're walking back." He picked up Gale's flight bag and pitched it out of the front seat, giving DeMarco just enough time to grab his before he'd shifted the jeep into gear and roared off on his own.
"He'll be fine in an hour," Gale predicted, hefting his flight bag back over his shoulder so that he and Benny could continue their long walk back down the airfield towards the dispersal huts and crew quarters.
DeMarco watched the jeep disappear down the runway and scoffed. "So how long do you think he's wanted to fuck her?"
Gale grinned, entertained that it was that obvious to someone else, too. "Since the minute they met, I think." And I get the sense she's not the kind to fall for easy charm.
--
If you liked meeting Cord, you'll love reading more about 'that Warren woman' who is currently in my Band of Brothers fanfic The Darkening Sky. You can read the whole thing on AO3.
#cord#tds cinematic universe#cordelia callaway#is this a blind date?#could be!#also I really really think i did good with egan and cleven's voices here#masters of the air spoilers
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𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.
bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader
✶One missed call. No new messages.✶
NSFW — angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, 18+ overall for smut
chapter: 9/15 [wc: 4.8k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11
AO3
Chapter 9: A Slow Rejection
——January 1, 1986——
[One missed call. One new message.]
“Hey! It’s getting pretty late, so I thought you’d be back by now.. Call me when you get this, so I know you made it okay.”
——January 3, 1986——
[One missed call. One new message.]
“Are you back to working on Fridays? Wayne let me know you made it home safe. Uh.. Miss you and stuff. Call when you can.”
——January 12, 1986——
[Two missed calls. Two new messages.]
“Been missing you, again.. Been so long, I’m starting to forget what your voice sounds like. Ha, I know, I’m being dramatic, but yeah.. It’s really not fair Wayne’s gotten all your calls, while I pick up the ones from bill collectors. I’m sure he’s a real riot, too. Telling the same story about how he tore his thumbnail clean off in that accident at the plant, but need I remind you, I’m the one you’re supposed to be.. Oh, fuck–shit–!”
“Man, sorry about that. You ever manage to burn pasta? Anyway. What was I saying? Right! We should try scheduling calls again, so we stop missing each other. Well, I guess we’d have to talk in the first place, but you know what I mean. Hope to catch you soon, so we can work something out.”
——January 24, 1986——
[Three missed calls. Three new messages.]
“I know you’re out of town for a meet, but Goddamn, I hope you don’t mind me ranting–because–holy shit, I just dropped the biggest plot twist on the club tonight. They totally didn’t see it coming, and shit, I’ve been planning it from the start. I’ve got even more twists later in the campaign, but this one was so good.. Hey, If I fill this whole cassette, I’m sorry, babe, I’m just excited–”
——January 27, 1986——
Every part of you ached. Wincing at the smallest tasks like lacing up your boots, and zipping your winter coat. Lower back pleading with you to stop bending over to pick up your purse. Arms shaking under the strain of textbooks. Eyes burning from lack of sleep. Head spinning. Water. Food. You needed both, had time for neither. Instead, you grabbed your waitress uniform, loaded your other shoulder with your gym bag, and walked the three flights of stairs down to the parking lot.
“God fucking damnit.”
You dragged the door closed from the white abyss, and stomped up three flights of stairs, rage simmering to a boil as you remembered you left the ice scraper and shovel behind.
But as soon as you entered the hallway, you sprinted. You could hear your phone ringing.
“Hello?” you answered, disguising the nauseating hope in your voice under a layer of genuine curiosity at who would be calling at dawn, and a touch of fear in case it was bad news.
It was never bad news when it came to him.
“Hey!” The pure relief in Eddie’s exhale wrapped you in a warm hug, placed a chaste kiss on your chapped cheeks. “I finally caught you.”
Finally. God.. finally you could reconnect with him after he swept you off your feet on New Year’s Eve.
You imbued your gratefulness into your voice, trusting he’d understand the magnitude of comfort he brought you, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school too, Munson?”
“I’m going, I’m going,” he promised with that little laugh of his, surely grinning ear to ear, pacing around his kitchen, probably annoying Wayne. “I just had a feeling I should try calling in the morning, and hey, it worked out. Do you have time to talk?” He knew the answer as soon as he asked, hearing the pause.
“I’m sorry.” Another pause. He didn’t interrupt. “My car’s buried under snow, and I’m running late as is.”
“It snowed there?”
“Mhm..” Certainly did, and if you didn’t get a move on, your coach was going to chew you out. But the temptation to keep sharing this blip in time was too enticing. Pretending things were better. “If you were here, would you shovel the snow for me? Scrape the ice off my windows?”
Eddie’s boyish, smitten murmur tingled across your skin. “Of course I would, baby,” he spoke in a lower range, in a whisper from where his heart resided. “Wouldn’t even have to ask. I’d take care of it.”
You knew he would. He was reliable like that.
“I’d have breakfast made, too,” he said. “Probably something frozen, but! Not to brag or anything, I know the exact amount of time to microwave a burrito so the inside is cooked, but the outside isn’t soggy, nor stale.” His warmth coaxed you into joining him in laughing, but it was repressed. Hollow. Delaying the inevitable. You both knew what was coming.
Aware he was burning the spare minutes you could afford, he asked the question you dreaded answering, “Do you have time to talk later?”
Oh, Eddie. Silencing your apology before it upset him more, you explained, “I have work later. What about Wednesday?”
“I have a date booked with Jeff’s mom. They moved into a new house over the weekend, and need help fixing faulty electrical stuff in their bathrooms. His dad is out of town in Indy. How about Thursday?”
“I’m usually in the gym until 11, and I have an exam to study for the next day.. I’m really busy during the Spring semester, with competing and stuff, on top of school bullshit–exams, papers, projects, whatever–and waitressing.”
“Mm..”
“Yeah..”
“Yeah.”
Ugly silence.
He said, “Well, I’ll let you go. We can work something out some other time.”
“Of course,” you promised. “Some other time.”
——February 8, 1986——
[No missed calls. One old message.]
“Uh.. I had to convince your roommate not to answer the phone, so I could leave this, and uh.. Now I feel super cheesy, but I wanted you to have a message waiting for you when you got back from New York–and–here it is, I guess. Jessica, are you listening to this? Whatever, I wanted to say I missed you, and hope you won all golds. I know you did, because you’re the best, but I wanted to wish you all the luck in the world, regardless if you needed it or not. Think of it like you opened a chest and found a Stone of Good Luck. +1 to all your rolls.. or tumbles, I guess.. Jesus Christ, I swear I’m done being weird. Call me when you’re back. Okay, bye.”
——February 9, 1986——
You called. No answer.
——February 10, 1986——
You listened to the fourth ring on the other end, and hung up. Defeat welcomed you like an old friend. Draped its blanket over your shoulders, squeezed you tighter than the lump in your throat, and reminded you to grab your new grips for the uneven bars on your way out of your dorm. It’s not like you had time to talk, anyway. You just wanted to try.
————
Eddie sprinted from his van. He heard it, he heard it, he heard it. Trailer door was locked. Wayne wasn’t home. God. Fucking. Loose doorknob he’d meant to fix yesterday knocking his keys from his shaky hands. Hehearditheheardit. Scraping his nails on the steps. Couldn’t find the right key. No, not the gold one, the bronze. Fucking hell. The ringing stopped. Maybe he could still–
He got the door open and dialed your number faster than his tunnel vision could discern. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”
Ringing, ringing.
It rang. It rang.
It clicked over to voicemail.
——February 12, 1986——
You took matters into your own hands.
——February 15, 1986——
“There’s a letter from your girlfriend waiting for you on your nightstand,” Wayne told him.
Eddie reminded him with a dull glare, “Not my girlfriend.” To which his uncle’s grin grew, watching his nephew fidget under the scrutiny of his curious gaze.
“It was delivered yesterday. What exactly do you call someone who sends you a Valentine’s card?”
Paling, then flushing at the suggestion, Eddie’s tongue stumbled over a half-assed response about the date being a coincidence, and disengaged from the odd twinkle in Wayne’s eye, hurrying down the hall to his room. Closing the door behind him, and locking it just in case.
The density of the card was substantial in his palm. He wanted to take his time, but his eagerness got the better of him. He ripped into the envelope and pulled out the thin letter stuffed with goodies. Beige cardstock. Crinkled along the top.
He meant to read the note first, but when he unfolded it, an abundance of riches slid to the floor, onto his dirty Reeboks. “What the..” With shame, he gathered the money first. It was no secret Wayne was throwing away the bills before Eddie could see the bright red stamps of FINAL NOTICE on them. Any time the lights went out, they would share a look from across the trailer, or a sigh if it was at night, until they flickered on due to a random outage. Things were rarely permanently cut, they made sure of that–with longer shifts at the plant, and Eddie selling weed, amps, acts of service, whatever he didn’t need–but there was always the looming threat. A voice in the back of his head when he needed to buy milk, and it had gone up another 4 cents. Morals; that’s what those voices were. Allusions of rules set by the wealthy. He bought the things he cared about, and stole the rest.
But with what you gave him..
“Damn,” he whispered, counting. Recounting. The weight of the money was comfort stacked in his dirty hands. A warm greeting after a long, cold day of working on his pregnant neighbor’s car for next to nothing. Granting him, and Wayne, the luxury of rest. It was enough to pay what they owed. Maybe more.
“Luckiest man on Earth,” he said, in reference to his sweet girl. “And you sent me..” He picked up the Polaroids and matched them to the paragraphs in the letter. One of you on a podium when you won first place overall; the picture was taken from the sidelines, far away. Another one of you competing on beam. Cute. Nice back shot of you in a leotard, too. Then..
You were at the edge of a pier overlooking the Statue of Liberty. Another girl was beside you, arms hooked around each other’s waist, having the other hand raised in the air as if you were holding the torch. The pose helped open your jean jacket, and beneath that, he saw peeking between the buttons, his Hellfire shirt.
“Sweetest girl.” He shook the picture steadily, like a nod. Gradually doing it more vigorously, until he was outright slapping it across his other fingers. “Goddamn, baby. You make me so proud.” Wearing his Dungeons and Dragons shirt out in public.
You would be a keeper, if you were his.
——February 17, 1986——
He meant to write back.
——February 22, 1986——
[One missed call. One new message.]
“.. I know it’s been a while, I’m sorry I haven’t called. Things got busy over here. Seems like when one thing goes wrong, more piles on. Did finish my book report for class, though, so you can be proud of me for that.. Yeah, miss you. Hope you’re doing okay. I don’t know if you’ve been calling and we’ve both been missing them, but Wayne hasn’t heard from you, either. You’re competing out of town today, aren’t you? Uhm.. Call when you can. And thank you for sending us money. Bye.”
——February 26, 1986——
You meant to call back.
——March 1, 1986——
Nothing really happened to trigger it, he was just sad.
Eddie sat at the kitchen table. Small and cramped with magazines and mail. He picked at a scab on his knuckle, twisted the black ring around his finger. Was tired, hungry. Quiet, and reserved from his usual personality, using all his energy yesterday to entertain Hellfire. Wayne would be back soon, he knew. The grocery store closed in 30 minutes. He just needed to occupy himself until then, but couldn’t find anything to do. New Metallica album in two days. He could listen to his bootlegs and finesse a song. But.. None of it sounded intriguing right now. Instead, his mind filled in the blanks. What were you doing on a Saturday night? Were you in your dorm? Out with friends? Working? Training? On a date–?
No. He stopped himself from fleshing out that last thought.
Tucking himself into the corner, huddling until his shoulders sagged, and drawing a knee to his chest, he grabbed the phone from above his head and dialed.
It didn’t matter if you couldn’t talk for long, he just wanted to hear your voice. Your voice would make things better. Shake him out of this cycle. These unfair consequences of being the one who could leave remnants of his heart for you to listen to at your leisure, but wasn’t afforded the same luxury. Unless you were both available, he didn’t get to hear you speak. Just ringing, ringing, ringing. Suffering ringing.
Wrapping his arm around his leg in a hug, he rested his temple on the stained wallpaper, and rocked his head back and forth, grinding his forehead into the wall. Ringing. Ringing. The same position he took when he was a boy, on the rare–very rare–occasion his mother called on his birthday, or Christmas. Mostly Christmas, that was easier for her to remember. And he sat in this exact arrangement, curled up as small as he can be, wishing the person on the other end of the line loved him.
“Just thinking of you,” he said, after swallowing the thick spit in his mouth foretelling the water in his eyes. “Miss you. Call me when you get this.” He hung up.
——March 5, 1986——
You wanted to call, but last week’s graded essay was burned onto the back of your eyelids. So much red ink.
Under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the library, you squeezed in the last of your allotted time before they closed, and forced your cramped hand to write, making it to your dorm in time to pass out.
[No missed calls. No new messages.]
——March 8, 1986——
He meant to start his letter to you. Really.
——March 10, 1986——
The quarter-sized blister on your palm you attained due to your own negligence around the flat top griddle at work burst on your fourth pull up. Fluid snaked down your forearm, cutting a stark line through the chalk. Coach would be livid if he knew you had a job. No distractions, he said. Not for champions like you.
[No missed calls. No new messages.]
——March 15, 1986——
Wayne took one look at him and sighed. He pulled Eddie’s wobbly desk chair up beside the bed, and sat facing him, lighting a cigarette. The heavy wooden box beside his nephew’s feet told him everything he needed to know.
Eddie held out his hand for Wayne’s lighter and lit the end of a joint.
“So,” his uncle started, drawing his eyes from the decades of memories stacked neatly in the keepsake box taken from the top shelf of the closet, to the Polaroids tacked onto the wall above his bed, to the worn black journals spread around the boy who laid there with his eyes on the ceiling, moping. “What’s gotten to ya, now?”
“Same old,” Eddie answered. Nonchalant, he took a drag on the joint pinched between his thumb and index, and rested his wrist on his forehead. Wayne waited patiently. And as usual, Eddie caved under the silence. “Unless she’s purposefully calling when we’re busy, she’s just.. not calling at all, and I don’t know what pisses me off more.” He shook his head. Long shakes, rolling cheek to cheek on his limp pillows. Eyes drifting closed. “I think I fucked up.”
Wayne leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, preparing himself for a long conversation. “Why do you think that, son?”
The corner of his mouth twitched at the memory. “I promised her we’d be together forever, and she said ‘okay.’ That’s all. ‘Okay.’” He started to mock himself, “I want to be with you forever,” and shifted his pitch higher, “Okay!” Eddie stopped his theatrics, and sank to his mattress. “Jesus.”
“You seemed really happy the next morning when I came home.. Are you sure you’re not reading too much into her reaction? Maybe she was surprised, is all I’m sayin’.” Eddie didn’t give so much of an eyeroll, as it was him sliding his gaze away from Wayne, disinterested in analyzing what he’d been poring over for the past few months in solitude; as the phone calls decreased, and his loneliness worsened. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you said?”
At an impasse, they inhaled their vices at the same time, and tapped them into the ashtray on Eddie’s nightstand in sync.
“Fine,” Eddie heeded, “But it’s not like I remember it verbatim.” Wayne spun his hand in encouragement to try. “It was something along the lines of.. I don’t know, man. She has these amazing opportunities lined up for her, and I told her after I graduate, I’m gonna work odd jobs, so wherever she goes, I can go with her, so we can.. you know, be together. Forever. I explicitly stated ‘forever.’ I’ll follow her forever, so we never have to be alone.”
Wayne spoke with the cigarette between his lips, “Sounds sorta stalker-like.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m just givin’ ya a hard time,” he said, after a slight laugh, and a coughing fit. His nephew seemed less amused, rubbing the back of his thumb across his forehead in a self-soothing gesture. “Was there anything else?”
Eddie burned through another fraction of his joint as he recalled that night. “She sucks at taking care of herself, so I said she needed her best friend there to look after her. Meaning me, obviously. Y’know, help keep her car functioning, make sure she gets rest so her injuries heal, cook for her because she doesn’t eat when she’s stressed. Stuff like that. I just want to be there for her, and.. Why’re you looking at me like that?”
Cigarette paused half-way to his mouth, Wayne debated with himself over which style of guidance he should take. For as long as he’d known him, Eddie was stubborn. Liked to figure things out for himself. But this? This was a little much for Wayne to sit back and watch.
“You told her that.. platonically?” he asked, a touch of astoundment at his nephew’s stupidity in his inflection.
“Yes.”
Jesus, kid. Get a clue. “And did it ever occur to you..” he drawled, waving his cigarette, “to tell her how you really felt, so you wouldn’t have to go through this? So you’d have a definite answer, whether she rejected you or not, and we could avoid all this back and forth worryin’?”
Eddie begged him to understand, “You know I can’t just.. say that to her. I mean, I said everything but that and all she could say was ‘okay.’ What if I actually told her? Made some grand confession at midnight, and kissed her? Christ, at least she still sort of talks to me.” He cut his arm across his chest. Quick, hard, and final. “No. No way am I doing that.”
Calming himself down, the joint between his fingers burned to a nub, and he spoke through the haze. “We’re finally friends again. I’m not going to jeopardize what we have by talking about my feelings.”
“Well, you’ve already lost her once, and you’re worried it’s happening again.. So, why not risk it?”
“Because now I know what it feels like for her to be a stranger.”
~~~
More words were exchanged, and many of them circled around the same subject without a resolution, but Wayne made sure to end the night on a positive note before he left for work.
He leaned over and dusted the ash from Eddie’s hair, pushing the fringe out of his face for a sincere, long moment of eye contact. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“I hope she calls. I’m sorry, son.”
——March 16, 1986——
The red lights on your alarm clock blared 2:35AM. You rolled over, adjusted the foam cups of your headphones onto your ears, brought the quilt to your chin, and rewound the tape to play it from the beginning.
“Crashed at Rick’s last night.. Sorry if you called.”
Then, a slurred message an hour later. “M-Mm.. Miss you.. I.. Hm? I.. Damn.” A drink spilled. Music played in the background. Something recognizable in the depths of your subconscious, but too quiet to place. Eddie inhaled deep, held his breath, and resumed with a steady cadence, “Wish you were here.”
——March 19, 1986——
Black. Black. Black. Searing white.
You came to holding onto a rope, and someone’s hand gripping your shoulder, acting as your sole buoy in the sea of your dizzy spell.
“Are you okay? Don’t answer that.” Katherine’s voice cut like a snake’s tongue. She lowered you to the spring floor next to the foam pit, and released a string of infuriated whispers about miracles, and you not falling from higher up. They came muffled against the high-pitched whine in your ears, and the pounding heart beats racing blood to your face.
She had a first aid kit with her. “Hello? Do you not feel that?” You looked at your hands. A cold flash of sweat prickled your skin. Nausea rose. The bleeding wasn’t bad, but it did leave a streaking trail on the last few feet of knotted rope dangling beside you.
At least Coach was in his office while the rest of you did your conditioning, so he didn’t see.
You rubbed your knuckles into your brow bone. “I think those caffeine pills caught up with me,” you muttered. Kat sucked her teeth, and handed you what you needed to patch up your torn calluses.
“I wish you’d stop taking those and give yourself a break. Rest isn’t a punishment.”
You may not have known her long, but she was the first friend you made, and her disappointed voice struck you in a way your Coach’s didn’t. Kat understood. She had a similar upbringing to you, and could relate. She also worked at the diner, and you helped cover for each other when other girls asked why you couldn’t make it to their bonding nights out.
And being vulnerable with her meant she knew intimate details of your life no one else did, and you were beginning to regret it.
Not really. But it sucked when she knew she was right.
“I can’t take a break now,” you mumbled, surveying the rest of the gym to make sure your conversation was private. “I’ve gotta study for next week. Gotta go to work. Gotta make money. Gotta–gotta–” You moved your hands erratically, drying the sharp sting of rubbing alcohol on your palms. “Gotta live up to everyone’s expectations.”
“Why not at least cut your hours at work? I know you don’t need the money that bad right now.”
“No.. But he does.”
The exasperated sigh Kat released grazed your cheek. She placed the first aid kit in her lap, and shifted closer to you. The side of her thigh squished against yours, and you wondered if anyone else on Earth would have stopped breathing at the small sign of affection. If anyone else’s eyes welled with tears at what others took for granted.
Kat’s tone went gentle, “You’re killing yourself over a guy who will never commit. You deserve better than that. Why not try going out with Roger again? You already know he likes you.” She bumped your shoulder and tipped her head at the group of sweaty guys standing under the rings. Most notably the stand-out amongst the men’s team jumping and grasping the apparatus, hoisting himself up for minute-long holds in poses that had your abs burning in empathy.
Roger was nice. His smile was nice. His short, sandy blonde hair was nice. Your date with him at the Italian restaurant in town was nice. He paid for the meal, which was nice. His eyes crinkled when he laughed at your bad jokes in a nice way. He made it a point to walk you to your dorm at night, like a nice man. He spoke to you nicely. He hugged you tight, and long. And when you made your intentions clear, he accepted you didn’t want a kiss, and left like a gentleman, without complaint. Nice. He was nice.
“You didn’t hear the way Eddie said–” the most romantic thing anyone had ever promised you.
“He called you his best friend.” She took over bandaging for you, turning her body to block the others from seeing the tears run down your cheeks. “He doesn’t love you like you want, and you’re starting to worry me. Well.. You’ve been worrying me. You need to take care of yourself, first. Coach might turn a blind eye because you’re still able to compete, but I see the way the stress has been eating away at you.” An opportune moment for your stomach to growl. “And I love you, and I want better for you than some guy who’s not into you, taking advantage of your kindness.”
“Eddie’s not like that. He’s different..” you offered meekly. “You don’t know him like I do.”
“Just.. consider going out with Roger again. Pay attention to the date. How he treats you, what he says. Maybe compare him to Eddie, and see what I mean.”
Done patching you up, Kat tossed the first aid kit to the side while you chalked your hands over the bowl, not caring the white powder clung to the wet smears on your face. She opened her mouth when you grabbed the rope again, fists on her hips not unlike a mother who actually cared for her children.
“You’re going to get hurt,” she said.
You put your weight on the rope. Your open flesh wrung against the fiber, padded by a few layers of athletic tape rapidly losing their adhesive from the blooming blood soaking through. The pain stung deep. Not enough for you to quit. You could persevere. Climb up to the rafters of the gym, and back down again without rest two more times, as Coach instructed. You could remain calm. Focus on the task, finish it, and still read your textbook until the crack of dawn, and go in for a quick morning shift at the diner before your afternoon class. You could do it all. You could. You could do it all if it meant securing a future for you, and for Eddie.
You replied, “Maybe I will.. But it’ll be worth it.”
Kat waited until you were half-way up to question, “Will it?”
——March 21, 1986——
If Eddie answered, you wouldn’t go out with Roger. That was the deal.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered with your head resting against the doorway to the back of the diner. The two line cooks gave you sympathetic looks. “Pick up,” you pleaded with a bite of anger.
You hung up.
Dialed again.
“Come on, Eddie..”
When he didn’t answer, you let Kat embrace you in the walk-in cooler, blotting your tears on her brown uniform shirt, and she listened to you sob about how not only had the phone calls stopped, Eddie had stopped calling you by pet names long before that.
————
Roger was soft. His grin was soft. His hair was soft, brushing across your forehead. The callus on his thumb was smooth, soft as he traced your bottom lip. The back of his fingers were soft as he caressed them over your cheek. His lips were soft, too. Placing them gently on the corner of yours after you turned away at the last second.
His voice was soft. “You don’t like me, do you?”
“I’m sorry..” You struggled to say more. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” he said, and left. Softly spoken through the rejection, and accepting it like the nice man he was, not coercing you into more.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized, long after Roger walked away. You went inside your dorm, and did the thing you always did, pressing the blinking light on your answering machine, noticing the cassette through the plastic window hadn’t moved.
[One missed call. No new messages.]
Oh.
He’d never not left a message before..
——March 22, 1986——
You awoke with a start. “Wha–?” Your bloodshot eyes refused to open under the disturbing amount of daylight streaming through your window. What was that noise? Was the phone ringing?
The phone was most definitely ringing.
Answering under the grog of not knowing when you went to sleep, nor what day it was, you said the first thing that came to mind, “Eddie?” You winced, and jerked the phone away, taking a moment to place the loud, exuberant–panicked–voice on the other side. “..Dustin?”
Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy @edsforehead @b-irock @brittney69 @princesseddie @hes-a-rainbow @churchmuffins @barbielibra
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you
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OTL waiting for the fluff to return 😭 obviously take your time though omg, i’ve started writing again myself and this shit is hard work but the spencer angst is killing me dead 😫
♥ Summary: The fluff is returning! Slowly! In this chapter of nightmare academia, Spencer goes to the hospital, and you fill out paperwork. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]
♥ Warnings: hospitals, guilt, alcohol mention
♥ A/N: here's a slower chapter, just so we can process the whole. stabbing incident.
♥ Word Count: 1367
Series Masterlist
♥♥♥
You fucking hated hospitals. It was the lighting. Goddamned fluorescents.
After Spencer had been whisked away by the paramedics, you remained at the university for a few more hours. You called Garcia, like he’d asked, and even though you told her not to worry, she told you to expect her presence by the end of the day. You’d wanted to head over to the hospital as soon as you hung up the phone, but you were held back. The police wanted to speak with you. Joy. Then, there were forms for you to fill out. Turns out it’s hard to have a violent incident in your office without paperwork miraculously appearing on your desk.
By the time you actually made it to the hospital, the sun was going down. You made your way through the long hallways lit by shitty fucking fluorescents until you found who you were looking for. Reid was fast asleep, surrounded by the soft beeping of various machines.
Honestly, he probably needed the sleep. His lips were still chapped, and the dark bags beneath his eyes looked darker beneath the cruel lights of the hospital. He looked so still, so lifeless like this- and you fucking hated it. You needed him to be awake. You needed him to tell you some obscure hospital facts. You needed to know that he would be okay.
You moved through the room silently, taking a seat next to him without making a sound. You sat there for hours, listening to him breathe- listening to the beeps of various machines that promised you he was alive. You wished that he was awake to make that promise himself.
Occasionally, his fingers would twitch, but he didn’t move. He just slept peacefully while you experienced immense torment at his side. Eventually, you took one of his hands in yours- and god fucking damnit did he have nice hands. His fingers were long and thick. The back of his hands were decorated with veins. There were bloodstains beneath his nails. Part of you wanted to hold onto his hand and never let go. You tried to ignore that part.
You tried to ignore most parts of yourself, honestly. You were trying to ignore the parts of you that felt guilty about the stabbing. You were trying to ignore the parts of you that knew this was your fault. You were trying to ignore how devastated you were, how distraught the image of Reid in a hospital bed made you.
You were doing a terrible job.
With a sigh, you let yourself slump over in your chair. You shifted against the vinyl seat, trying and failing to get comfortable. How could you be comfortable? Your mortal enemy/friend/stupidly attractive coworker got stabbed because of you.
Now what could you do?
Your eyes roamed over Reid’s body. You drew in a sharp breath.
You didn’t know that Spencer could hear you.
He’d been awake for a while. A short while after his admission to the hospital, he pretended to fall asleep. Part of it was him actually trying to sleep. The other part of it was avoiding conversation. When he heard you come in, he assumed you were a nurse or doctor. Then you took his hand.
Now he knew it was you. He was desperate to open his eyes and see your face. He wanted to squeeze your hand and make sure that you were okay. He wanted to do a lot of things, but he kept still. He wasn’t sure you would stay if he moved. He wasn’t sure you would say what you wanted to.
He lay there, motionless, listening to the sound of your voice and gazing into the darkness behind his eyelids.
He’d missed you. It had only been a few hours, but somehow, he’d missed you.
“Hey, Reid,” you kept your voice whisper quiet, “It’s me. Sorry I’m late, I got held up back at work. You know how violent incidents are. They generate paperwork like crazy.”
You weren’t wrong. You weren’t wrong in the slightest. You paused for a moment, and Spencer could hear your soft breaths over the beeping of all the damn machines around him. He could hear you trying your best to control your emotions, to keep from crying. You weren’t doing a great job.
“Hey, uh, thank you, by the way,” you cleared your throat, “For getting stabbed. The cops weren’t listening to Missy. She tried to report Jason before, but they, uh… they didn’t listen. And I don’t think they would have listened to me, but now? Now they’re paying attention. And they’ll listen to you.”
He felt you squeeze his hand.
“I wish it hadn’t come to this. I- god, I really- I didn’t want you to get hurt. It- if anyone had gotten stabbed, it should have been me.”
No. No, it should not have been you, Reid wanted to snap his eyes open and make you take that back.
“But hey, it was you, and now Jason’s gonna go away for a long time. So… thank you.”
Reid didn’t say anything, but he thought, ‘You’re welcome.’
“And this isn’t forgiveness, just so you know!” you said, though your tone was very forgiving, “I’m still mad at you. And you should be mad at me, too. Not for being objectively right about how fucked up some of your friends are- not for that night, but… for telling you to die so many times that you almost tried it.”
That wasn’t why he’d done it. You hadn’t made him try it. He wanted to tell you, but he stayed silent. He wanted to see what you said next. He also wanted to squeeze your hand and tell you that this wasn’t your fault.
“Do me a favour, when you wake up,” you pressed your lips to his knuckles, “Be angrier with me.”
Reid had no fucking clue how he was going to do that. He had no idea how he was supposed to get up and out of this bed and not make sure that you were okay.
Your hand slipped out of his. He could feel you placing it back over his chest. Your touch lingered, even after you’d gone, and Spencer’s fingers flexed in the absence. The room fell silent for a minute, and he was pretty sure that you’d left.
He heard your voice again, by the door.
“By the way, I called Garcia like you told me to and uhhhh. She’s coming here anyway, she’ll be here soon, okay bye.”
And then you were gone.
-
You ran into Garcia outside of the hospital. She winced when she saw you and you couldn’t blame her. You were sure you looked like shit. Even if you didn’t, her friend had been stabbed because of you. In her position, you probably would’ve thrown a few punches.
Garcia did not throw punches. Instead, she placed a cautious hand on your arm, and she spoke to you kindly, and you felt like you didn’t deserve it.
“Hey Doctor Gorgeous, is everything okay? I mean, of course everything isn’t okay, Reid got stabbed and you were in danger, but you, physically, how are you doing, are you okay?”
You gave her the best smile you could muster and placed a hand over hers, “Physically, I’m fine. Mentally? I’m planning on going home and getting drunk. Thank you for asking, Penelope.”
She winced again, and this time, you could identify the emotion behind it. You could see the sympathy, the pain in her eyes, you shared it.
“Y’know, if you want to, I’m gonna grab a coffee before I go see Spencer. You can join me, if you want, instead of uh, drinking about this.”
You smiled, letting out a half-breath of a laugh and looking at the ground.
“That sounds like a good idea, actually. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Garcia’s smile was blinding. She took you by the arm and led you to the coffee shop, talking about the reviews she’d seen for it the whole time.
You stayed with her until she went to see Spencer. When you went home, you drank coffee instead of wine.
♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!!
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#x reader#nightmare academia
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Phic Phight - “Harder, Daddy”. “Son?!?” “🤨”
@bubblegumbeech @library-of-cronos @ghostboidanny @ecto-mochi @miss-nov @thegayonthemoon
Danny always knew that it wouldn’t always be as easy and stuff the Box Ghost into the thermos, but maybe facing his most dangerous threat would turn out to be the best kind of ‘threat’. After all, Danny never really looked like Jack and Maddie, and they were never great parents. It’s said that a parent will always recognise their child, no matter one; and they didn’t recognise him.
:Chap. 1:
The Past’s Now With Us
Danny was expecting a lot of things when he went to pull the sword out of the ground, everything that happened after was not any of them. He didn’t expect Vlad to be shocked and horrified. He didn’t expect to suddenly have all of Amity in the ghost zone. He didn’t expect to be beset by skeletons. He didn’t expect the Frightknight’s sword to fly out of his hands; yet again, he should definitely expect that to happen by now. He didn’t expect the giant of a ghost to shout about surrender and then try and goddamn ghost tazer him and Vlad. He also didn’t expect for the giant ghost to apparently just drop him and Vlad then up and leave. The fuck kinda ghost just smacks you around to then leave you on the ground in a heap?
Even Vlad was weirded out and confused; enough so that he completely abandoned his apparent most recent psycho plan. Also, what was up with Vlad and stealing peoples shit? And why did he ever think stealing from the king of all ghosts and the literal personification of fear and Halloween was a GOOD IDEA??? He also lost the ring so, suck on that dumbass; he deserved to have the shittiest of days.
Either way Danny’s still got a fight to face, Vlad’s fucked off, Valerie’s hurt (because of him), and Sam and Tuck are worried about him doing stupid reckless shit. Not too weird but still, Pariah was still confusing him though.
“YOUNG ONE! HEAR MY DECREE!”.
Ah. Danny feels like he might be getting singled out here.
Tuck blinking, “dude, you didn’t even get to talk to him and he’s still targeting you?”.
Sam frowning, “I still don’t think you should do this”.
“FACE ME IF YOU DESIRE DEATH!”.
Danny glances at the red clouds then down to Sam, “I don’t think I have much of a choice, Sam. Plus, I’ll be fine. I can totally do this”.
Sam grumbles, “idiot. But fine, just… don’t be stupid”. Tuck adding, “stay safe, dude”.
“I think I’ve already fucked both those up”.
They glare but still stand by the shield to lower it.
“GO INVISOBILL!”.
Oh he hates that so much. “IT’S Phantom! DANNY! PHANTOM!”. By the zone, let them remember that!
The literal army is a bit much, there’s skeleton dragons! The suit is awesome though, he’s blasting and tossing around skeletons like this is a goofy game.
Then his friends drop all his enemies off, that have apparently decided to fight as his own personal army apparently.
“THE BUBBLEWRAP! OF DEATH!”.
Danny’s surprised the bubble wrap attack actually works. “Huh. That actually worked, go Boxy”. Johnny chuckling, “hey, I’m surprised too”.
Skulker nearly snarling but sounding too desperate to really have any threat to him, “now go! Defeat him! So I’ll be free to hunt you for another day!”. really? REALLY? That’s what the guy goes with?
Danny turning to Ember, “he’s your boyfriend”, she smirks at him, “I’m just saying, you do know what standards are, right?”. She smacks him over the battle suits head with her guitar for that; fair enough.
Either way he’s now got to face the king… the king of all ghosts… probably half-ghosts included. He knows he said he’ll be fine, but really? Probably not a chance. Nope. Hello full death for him. That’s not gonna stop him from trying though.
His entrance is dramatic.
Pariah greets him dramatically in kind, he has a fucking mace of all things, “little ragged ‘round the edges, eh my child”.
Does this guy just think that all ghosts belong to him or something? Talk about egotistical, at least Vlad pretended he didn’t think Danny was ‘already his son’. still Danny jumps forward and more or less asks to cut the witty banter bullshit and just fight. Partly because he’s already kinda tired and partly because he expects to get his ass kicked; he’d rather not beat around the bush on that one. He’d prefer for his second death to be far less painful than the first. He vaguely wonders if Skulker legit believes Danny stands a hairs breath of a chance.
“I think not, I reject your terms”.
What? Why? Is this some ‘I’m going to demand you kneel before me’ crap? Or like does this guy want an ‘official’ duel? “And why not?”, if Danny can talk his way out of this then hot damn, he might actually be fine, his mouth is his best weapon after all.
“You shall see soon”. And then the guy launches at him with the mace. Talk about mixed messages. Danny obviously deflects the mace, like duh, it’s… a massive drain on his energy though. To say he does not feel good is an understatement.
But instead of looking insulted, or angry, or just annoyed; the ghost looks… concerned? Danny’s also fairly sure the guy let Danny’s echo-beam hit him and push him back.
Danny gets thrown into a wall.
Danny gets blasted into the ground.
Danny blocks a thrown sword. Then ten thrown swords.
Danny tries to avoid fire.
Danny is tired.
Pariah is not.
Pariah gets thrown into a chair.
Pariah gets smashed by an orb.
Pariah doesn’t seem to be taking actual damage.
Pariah is not taking actual damage.
Danny is screwed.
“You can’t possibly win”.
Danny is pretty aware of that, but Danny is also a tricky bastard that doesn’t fight fair nearly as much as Vlad seems to think he does. Pariah plus coffin is all Danny actually needs.
Danny’s about to have a duplicate blast Pariah away when the ghost picks his real self up by one arm, when, “this suit is a burden on you, my child. It is pointless to test you with this, we are wasting our time”.
Great, now the guy’s playing games with him again. “You’re kidding yourself if you think I’m falling for that one”. Danny’s clone blasts him, but Pariah creates a shield and it bounces off easily.
“Enough of this”, with a finger snap all of Danny’s duplicates are just gone; crushed by pure ectoplasmic power. Okay yeah, beating up your own king with items of ‘unlimited power’ wasn’t really a winning fight. He had been planning to just… shoot off the guys crown, which would be kinda stupid if it actually worked, wouldn’t it? Then, like, kick him into the crazy guy coffin jail, which was also probably a pretty fucking dumb plan. Eh he’s worked with stupider. It was less stupid plan than ‘guess I’ll die’, which was the current trend. So Danny says one of the stupidest things he’s ever said on the possible brink of double death, of death two point oh, of the full big flop, “squeeze harder, daddy-o”, fuck if he’s gonna die or be ended, he was gonna do it on a really fucking dumb joke. Tuck would be proud, maybe his full ghost ass will get to tell him.
“My aim is not to break your arm, son”.
…
Is Danny being taken seriously? What does he do with this? How old is this guy??? Should… should he play along?
Pariah drops him unceremoniously, huffing, “leave behind that foolish contraption and follow”, and just stalks off. Guess Danny’s playing along? Or playing nice? He doesn’t know. Danny abandons the suit before the king decides to try beating him around again and follows behind very awkwardly, the two passing The FrightKnight, who gives Danny a confused look, Danny shrugs exaggeratedly back. He didn’t know either okay! This king guy was crazy crazy! Pariah’s voice rumbling in his knights general direction, “any who enter, end them”.
The FrightKnight bows immediately, “as you desire, my liege”, and goes to stand guard by the doors that Danny brutalised.
Another thing Danny didn’t expect? For him to be walking after a psycho king into a throne room with a strange age shifting ghost that just screamed powerful. Pariah’s voice booming out, “care to explain? To me? To him?”.
The cloaked ghost doesn’t so much as turn around, “It was for the best”.
Pariah roaring, “you let me believe him ended!”.
Danny has so many questions and not only are they not getting answered, they’re getting added to instead.
At least the cloaked ghost turns around this time, “and they would have ended him, there was no other future wherein he survived”.
“And you couldn’t tell me!”.
“No”.
Danny standing here awkwardly watching too clearly super old and super powerful ghosts bickering, wondering if he should try and take a cheap shot. See this? That train of thought? Is why he gets himself into so many messes. It’s also why so many jerks liked to pick fights with him.
Okay think, Danny, this place is huge right? There’s gotta be something he can use to, like, disable Pariah or at least annoy him enough to give up on his mass domination plan. These two are distracted by their bickering match.
“-I was going to take everything away from them!”.
“They wouldn’t have believed him gone otherwise”.
“I still shall take everything from them”.
“Do you believe I do not agree with that?”.
Danny has tried to ‘slink off’ as subtly as he can, considering he was still short and skinny -which was often annoying as fuck- that wasn’t too hard to do. This king’s got scrolls, a lot of random skulls, fur pelts, really old looking jewellery, a weird stack of chairs, baby clothing? Weird-
“If you did this all so I would seek to strip them of some power-”
“I can assure you it was not, Sæti”.
Danny side-eyeing the two, that was said with some, uh, very specific kinda fondness. Was this, like, a couples bickering match??? Why is Danny being dragged into this? Yes Johnny and Kitty considered him, unfortunately, to be their go to for ‘couples counselling’, but come on! And the size difference between these two ghosts must make things interesting. Tuck would have some choice words, Danny’s choosing not to think about that; considering it would probably be the same shit Tuck said about Danny’s own folks and their height difference. Oh hey! A really big hammer! Danny absolutely can’t pick it up. Damn. Because if the ‘knocking off his crown’ plan was going to work, doing it with a comically large hammer would have been totally awesome.
“We never even got to name him! You could not have had the sense to wait that long?!”.
“Kjært barn har mange navn, Pariah“. (A beloved child has many names, Pariah)
Great, now there’s an entirely new language getting involved, Danny will question why the hell he can understand it later. At this point he’s not even sure what they’re arguing about, their kid he’s guessing, but why is he involved in this shit? He ain’t no goddamn ghosts kid! Is ghosts -half ghosts included- trying to adopt him just going to be a theme in his half life? Why! Hey look, a podium with an ominous sword on it. Score! There’s little images of some other guy with the same green crown getting stabbed with the sword by the Pariah guy all over it. A king killer sword? That is exactly what he needs! Look mom! He’s actually got a plan now!
“What of him now? Has he been alone? Could you not have released me yourself if you knew? ClockWork!”.
Oh cool, Danny got a name for the guy with a goddamn clock in his chest. He totally should have figured it would be clock-related.
“He had the upbringing that was needed, that did not include us”. The Pariah ghost actually throws something at the ClockWork guy. Clocky avoiding it easily. “I do not regret what I did”.
Pariah’s, “you never do”, is weirdly gentle; way too much like when Danny’s dad was trying to down play being a giant of a man.
“And think, what does it mean if we’re seeing him again now?”.
“…”.
Danny manages to get himself up on the podium, why did it have to be so long?, crouching for balance since he was frankly still exhausted.
“I would recommend against touching that, Skatten” (treasure).
Danny stills and goes wide-eyed, side-eyeing the Clock ghost who was now staring at him looking amused. Danny is tempted to hiss like a cat and try to knock down the sword. Pariah following Clock’s line of sight, eyeing Danny, and sighing tiredly; did that mean Danny was succeeding in at least maybe annoying the guy out of world domination? Danny blinks, “and why not?”
Clock guy just looks more amused, “because you do not want to end Pariah”.
Danny looks at the sword then back to the ghosts, “I don’t?”. Danny did. That was kinda the point. Or at least make the guy go back to his forever sleep.
Clock shakes their head, Pariah glares at clock, “You have been watching him this whole time”.
“…”. The clock ghost doesn’t respond.
“I haven’t received such a privilege”, Pariah then looks to Danny, “no, you do not. There are many things we have to talk about”.
Danny is still confused, but he’s going the hedge his bets or whatever, “we do?”. Danny is still on the podium, he currently has no intention of moving; since he might be able to move fast enough to grab the sword and at least throw it at the king… so long as it’s not stuck in the podium anyways. “And are you gonna keep trying to beset my town with a whole ass army?”.
That question apparently pleases the king, “so you have already claimed some lands as your dominion”. Clock grinning and nodding, “his approval rating amping the citizens has gone up”.
Danny makes a face at the clock ghost, “how do you know that?”, thank fuck his approval has gone up though. You’d think after playing hero for this long everyone would already be on his side by now. But noooooo, he was a ghost and there was still all this bigotry bullshit.
Both ghosts seem amused now, Clock ghost tilting their staff a little dramatically, “I’m the ancient of time, I have seen everything you have ever done, could ever do, are currently doing, and will ever possibly do”.
Ah. Wow. Ha. Danny is so fucked. Well… they’re were playing nice, now at least anyways. Or well to be fair, the clock one never actually did anything, that he knows of. “Congrats on having the most excessive power set I’ve run into yet?”. What else is he supposed to say to that?
Clock eyes Pariah, “reminds you of someone, no?”. And Pariah actually laughs -how is this going well for Danny- back at that, “I believe I was far more aggressive when we first met”.
Danny shuffles, moving to just be sitting lazily on the podium, he’s still not getting down, “well Clocky here hasn’t tried to fist fight me yet, or lay siege to my town, or taser me for that matter”.
Clock smirks, “you and I both know that if you thought you could win, you’d try”.
“That’s not a lie”. Danny was a combative mother fucker alright? It didn’t help that basically every ghost he’s ever met has wanted to throw hands with him….
Pariah huffs, it’s almost a sigh, “I suppose it’s better you have more caution than I”.
Clocky’s, “it most certainly is, though it is by only a fraction”, is scolding.
Danny blinks, okay, um, he’s not sure what to do here so, “are you two like, a thing? Are y’all having just the most dramatic couple problems ever, or something? Is abducting towns a romantic gesture?”.
“Yes”.
“No”.
Danny makes a face, “ah so I’m not the only confused one here. Gotcha”. Is Danny fishing for answers? Obviously. Because he’d really like to have some.
ClockWork makes a ‘well go ahead’ gesture with their hand and floats back some. Pariah looking from Clocky to up at Danny on the podium, “did you or did you not recognize me as your father earlier? For you are undoubtedly my son”.
“I was making an, admittedly, really stupid joke! ‘Daddy’ has, other, meanings”. Oh zone, this guy thinks he’s actually, like legit, his actual father. What the hell? Danny’s used to Boxy’s delusions of power, but this was a whole different kind of delusion; and one Danny was far less interested in encouraging. “You, ah, got proof for this shit though? Cause last I checked I already have parents”.
Pariah looks back at Clocky, “explain”.
“I wasn’t about to allow him to be left unattended or grow up isolated”.
Danny sticks up a hand, “uh yeah, explain that a little more, what the fuck”. Is this clock guy claiming that he, what?, dropped Danny off with the Fenton’s and they either didn’t notice they magic-ed a son out of nowhere or just never told Danny????
…
Okay considering they hadn’t noticed he died that made more sense than it should. Or that Vlad hated dads -Jack’s?- guts. Or that ghosts definitely had actual emotions. Or a lot of things.
Danny pointing at Pariah, “and haven’t you been in a coffin for, like, whole ass centuries?”. Danny’s questions are only growing.
Clocky hums, “time is but a suggestion, one I have no difficulty twisting to my own desires should they be preferable”. Great. Is this guy claiming Danny’s a damn time travel baby??? What has his life come to. Danny did not sign up to be part of this soap opera!
Pariah floats up to be more on even eye level with Danny, “there is no doubt you are my son. None”.
“And I’m supposed to take your word on that?”. Like sure, Danny didn’t exactly look like his maybe parents, Jazz definitely looked like mom, but how the hell would two ghosts have a human child???? His ghost form doesn’t even look like theirs either! Okay fine Clocky has bits of white hair hidden in their cloak but that’s all Danny’s picking up on.
Pariah shakes his head, “that would be quite foolish of you. Can you not tell?”.
Pariah glances down at ClockWork, who moves to float up to them as well, “he is young still, Sæti. His core’s not matured fully”.
For whatever reason both the ghosts look happy over that. Danny just has yet another question, “and what’s a core? You guys suck at answering questions”.
“As is often the case with my ClockWork”. The clock ghost just nods acceptingly. Pariah continuing, “a core is our source of might, the whole of our existence. And as they have explained in their way to me”, eyeing Danny, “The Observants, pathetic creatures, attacked ClockWork and you when you were a mere lille venn (little darling)”.
ClockWork interjecting, “they meant to harm us both, to destroy a god-prince and god in their folly for power. The young are so much weaker after all”.
Danny is putting the ‘prince’ thing and the ‘god’ thing on a shelf for now. The nice neat little shelf where ‘dealing with being dead’ also sat, right next to ‘mom and dad kinda wanna dissect me’.
Pariah scowls but looks at ClockWork, “Where are the Observants? Surely they know of him by now?”.
“You truly believe that any child of mine would by watchable by their eyes? Restricted and weakened as they now are?”.
Danny sighs to himself, “and the Observants are?”. Have these guys answered even one of his questions? Like actually answered? Besides the core thing, which sounded kinda like a heart and brain.
ClockWork actually answers him this time, it’s a miracle, “all seers, watches of the universe. Fools who believe all they see is all there is to be seen”.
“Gods. Gotcha”. Fuck Danny so much. When did he go from just dealing with fame hungry pop idols to literal fucking gods?
“Almost”, Clocky holds up a toddler-looking finger, “but not quiet. And they’ve fallen in might since. I merely allow them to continue to believe they have any say over me”.
Pariah moves closer and looms over Danny some, Danny is taking a huge fucking gamble by staying put but Danny has definitely learned the art of ‘never let them see you sweat’ even if he actually still kinda sucked at it. But… they were being nice enough he supposed. So when Pariah holds out his massive hand -not unlike Jack’s/dad’s- and says, “a child still or not, you should still be able to tell with physical contact”, with ClockWork following suit. Danny doesn’t refuse.
It’s like being struck by lightning that was oddly fluffy, like fuzzy yarn winding around his insides and chest, like being swaddled by hands the size of his entire body, like being wrapped in feathers while being fed liquid gold. It’s a lot all at once and there’s a part of his brain that just dings with right and belong and home and mine. He wants to be touched by them, held, to slip into sweet dreams surrounded by them. It felt brutally safe in a way that Jack and Maddie never did. Felt a part of him. Danny believes them in an instant and almost wants to cry. A comfort and protection he’d never known rushing all over and around him.
He slips, falls really, off the podium immediately, floating and pulled closer by their hands that felt oh so right. He absolutely passes out from all the stress and exhaustion and being overwhelmed, passes out right in both of their arms. Pariah’s size allowing him to cradle both him and ClockWork.
--
“He’s been through a lot, hasn’t he. amoung the living no less”.
“Indeed. But he is better and stronger for it. And neither of us will be changing that”.
“I want my son home, ClockWork”, pariah sighs, “thought I suppose one shouldn’t abandon their subjects”.
“The Fenton’s have long assured he’ll come around often, worry not Sæti“.
Chap. 2: The Dopamine That Was Robbed Of Me
Danny wakes up in, of all places, the ghost kings lap; the Clock ghost looking to be polishing their staff while siting on Pariah’s shoulder, ghostly tail wrapped lazily around one of Danny’s hands. Should Danny be embarrassed or not? He felt like… well like a little kid.
The Clock ghost -what the Hell is Danny going to call either one of them?- grins faintly down at him and winks for some reason. Pariah noticing and looking away from the stone tablet he was apparently reading off of to look down at Danny as well, “I see you’re awake”.
Danny just nods slowly, he still felt like there was soft yarn winding through him and pillow stuffing in his mouth or like he’d had a ton of super sweet sugar. Cranning his head to look around, they're raised up on some platform, there’s carpeting leading from where they are to a door that isn’t beaten up, the FrightKnight is still there standing guard and is practically bleeding awe; they are totally sitting, or Pariah is sitting, on a throne, aren’t they? Glancing around a little more, the place looks way more spruced up than before, there’s tapestries on the walls, stained glass, a potted plant or two; weird. Looking back up at Pariah, who’s still watching him, “what happened?”.
Pariah hums, “as it stands I have no further reason to reign my fury and iron fist down on this realm’s, or another’s, denizens, as such there’s much I am in need of catching up on”.
Did Danny just stop a war? Apparently. By finding out HE WAS FUCKING ADOPTED AND THE CHILD OF GHOSTS! Yet he just… doesn’t really feel super freaked out about it. He’s almost comfy with it. Is this the way people normally feel with their parents? Comforted? Secure? Open? Supported? It’s… a bit strange for him, good but strange. His parents, or not parents he guesses, were the last people he ever felt that way around. Even before the whole ‘we want to dissect half of you’ bullshittery. so Danny blinks instead of freaks out, “what… kinda stuff?”. Clocky- ClockPops? looks pleased with that response.
Pariah glances back to the stone, that thing must weigh a ton, humming, “seems two harpy clans are at war over wine again”. Danny glances away, oops. “A prison warden for the barren lands wants to make ‘force feeding someone confetti on their wedding day’ illegal”. Danny makes a face, oops again. “There’s a rampaging dragon on the lose”. Okay that one might not be Danny’s fault, maybe. “Multiple complaints from Blackbeard about a child fake pirate stealing his ship”. That ship was Blackbeard’s ship? Crap Danny totally confiscated that. “And the denizens of the Far Frozen wish to have an audience ‘as the prophecy foretold’”. Okay Danny knows nothing about that last one.
Danny chuckles awkwardly, “uh. If it’s anything getting the harpies to compete to get me wine was supposed to be a joke, Walker hates my guts, I’ve only beaten up one dragon but he does also hate my guts, and I didn’t know that ship actually belonged to anyone. The yeti thing ain’t my fault though”.
ClockWork smirks meanly at him, leaning down and patting Danny’s head, “actually it is”.
Fuck. Danny’s making a terrible impression here.
Pariah raises an eyebrow, “you stole Blackbeard ship while dressed up as a pirate?”.
Danny sputters, oh that would be so embarrassing, “what no! This toddler did that! I just stole it from the toddler”.
ClockWork holds up a finger, “meaning instead of stealing from a strong adult, you stole from a weak child, how very noble of you”.
“Hey! He abducted all the adults in town, he had it coming!”. Danny swats at ClockWork’s hand without any harm meant behind it, doing that makes Danny notice that something’s… changed. His gloves are black! And clawed??? Holding his hand in front of his face, “huh?”. Pariah leaning back a bit father to allow for Danny to jerk up into a sitting position to look down/over himself.
His suits changed! Like completely! His gloves, now black, are actually gloves now, like, not just part of a jumpsuit anymore, the ends of them going up to his elbows and coming off in a point. His sleeves are white now but his shoulders and chest are still black but it looks more like armour, the white of the jumpsuit showing on the sides of his torso and looking to going underneath the black almost v-shaped armour; he’s gonna bet the black ‘armour’ goes down his back too. His belt and black pants look the same at least, his boots are still white too but like his gloves they aren’t actually attached to the suit anymore and come off and over his knees in points.
He has a cape!
A cape!
Oh Tuck is gonna mock him relentlessly. So is Vlad.
It’s simple at least, black on the inside and white on the outside, completely smooth at the bottom. It seems like it’s attached or part of? his white neck part.
His DP symbol’s still there. Nice. He actually likes that thing, regardless of it being a pain to get. His chest was definitely a bit wider, all of him seemed just a bit more… muscley. Like, no one’s going to be doing confused double takes, but it definitely looks like he’s actually been fighting ghosts in hand to hand combat for months.
Cool.
He’d been kinda wondering about the fact that he’d gained literally zero muscle. But still, what? Looking up at the two ghosts and quirking an eyebrow, there’s no way they don’t know what’s happened with him.
ClockWork seats themselves down on the thrones arm rest, Pariah putting down the stone tablet. ClockWork nodding, “you were meant to be hidden, your appearance couldn’t be exactly as it was supposed to be”, grinning, “at least not until you returned to us, stronger”. Danny points at his face, he couldn’t exactly look at that without pulling some body horror shit. Pariah grinning, “you already had my face, more slender I suppose, but it is more defined now. I suspect you’ll start seeing facial hair in a year or two-”.
Oh Danny is totally here for that! He kinda thought he have to give up on that since no one on… on well Jack’s or maddie’s side had good facial hair. But DarkDaddy had a solid goatee and Clockpops had a full beard sometimes!
“-you have ClockWork’s skin, paler, but the same blue-”.
Something else for Vlad to bug him about. Cool. At least ClockWork looks smug.
“-your fangs are less pronounced than my own but you are young still-”.
Man all those vampire jokes were really coming back to bite Danny in the ass; licking his tongue over his teeth, yup fangs.
“-your eyes remain the same green, though you have red pupils now. The pointed ears are all your own though, as is the fire hair”.
Danny moving a hand up to grab his ear tips, well at least they weren’t any longer, and yeah his hair definitely felt like it was moving on its own way more than normal. Okay, so his face changed, like, a lot; people were so going to comment on that. Ugh. The pr was gonna suck.
ClockWork leaning over, “make no mistake, this is how you were always meant to look, you will get used to it”.
Danny chuckles at that, “I mean I’m pretty good at being adaptable”, at least this voice sounds the same, which would obviously change as he got older… hopefully, it would suck to sound like a fourteen-year-old forever. Looking from ClockWork to Pariah and back, “but… since my uh, you guys, are ghosts I’m gonna guess I’m not actually human at all? Am I?”. Like, that would make zero fucking sense and Danny has zero clue how he feels about that. Another thing for the mental shelf!
Pariah damn near cackles, “I am the god of death, child, I am fully capable of defiling life all I please! If I desire a mortal flesh baring child, I’ll have it! My desires are just reality to be”. ClockWork nodding in kind, “reality is just a mass of threads to be toyed with or blown away. Impossibility doesn’t mean anything to me”.
“That really doesn’t answer my question”. Was it always going to be this way with them? It was kinda funny though, Danny loved confusing people himself.
ClockWork rests their chin in a palm, tilting sideways, tail swishing though still holding onto Danny, “does it truly matter?”, waving their other hand, “You’re closer to a full ghost who possesses the ability to change into a truly living human body. Fully alive and fully dead, far more impossible than merely half and half”, humming, “though your accident made the two sides of the coin intermingle more than was meant at the time”.
So he's even more not dead and even more not alive, cool. That’s going on the shelf, but he’ll absolutely laugh about that later. Zone Danny can’t help but laugh now, “fucking nice”. Earning himself two fond grins. He kinda wants to go find a mirror but he’s also frankly comfy and not interested in leaving either of his parents right now… there was probably some kinda reason for that knowing his luck.
Pariah raising an eyebrow at ClockWork, “accident?”. Making the smaller ghost sigh, “the Fenton’s like to play god with the connections between life and death”.
Wait this totally means the portal didn’t kill him! He was already fucking dead! He’s definitely going to be explaining that to Sam, since she blamed herself a lot about it. Groaning a little, “man, Sam’s gonna be so relieved when she finds out she didn’t accidentally half kill me. wow”. No wonder all the other ghosts always found it weird that he didn’t actually care about them going through the thing that ‘killed him’, because if it had killed him he should have been bothered.
Pariah curls in a little to have his face closer to Danny’s, “you intend to return to that mortal town?”.
Danny blinks at his… should he use dad or father? Pops is definitely going towards ClockWork, ‘cause Clockpops flowed too well. Father seemed… too formal for Danny to put up with, like that’s what Vlad would want Danny to call him. Ew. Dad it is for sure. “Well I mean yeah? My friends, my fraid, are there? And it’s my town, I’m not gonna stop protecting it just cause my parents are totally different people than I thought they were and from a different realm”. He absolutely will not just abandon Amity, humans, his friends and family, Val. Zone, even Dash and his jerk squad. Mr. Lancer and that one barista that didn’t give him shit over his unhealthy orders. Though… he’s not sure how he’s gonna be with Jack and Maddie. Like… they did raise him, sorta, sure Jazz did most of it but still.
Pariah shrugs, “that town can very well stay in this realm-”.
Danny points at him, “absolutely not. That screams stupid. Wait. How long has it been? How long was I out!”. Oh zone, everyone must be freaking out! Even the ghosts that came to aid him are probably freaking!
ClockWork ruffles his hair, “relax, I convinced your dad to send the town back to its own realm long before you awoke, and, though I know they’ll still worry, sent word you were fine to your fraid”.
“Oh thank fuck “, Danny flops backwards, head dangling down over DarkDaddy’s knees, that nickname was too funny not to use. Danny blinking at the FrightKnight, the guy is beaming but clearly trying to keep a straight face. Danny puffs out his cheeks, “oh you’re just loving this aren’t you, you old ass knight”. The FrightKnight tries to control his face more.
Danny can hear ClockWork leaning towards Pariah and explaining a little, “they’ve fought before. He’s taken his sword multiple times”.
Pariah laughing, addressing his head dread knight, “did he really?!?”.
The FrightKnight looks like he’s debating if it’s okay for him to approach, before just deciding to, “he’s young but capable”. Danny has a distinct feeling that Pariah became a bit of an ass, clearly, during his whole ‘tyrading because my son’s gone’ thing.
Pariah laughs again, grabbing Danny’s cape to yank him up into the air before setting him down to sit on Pariah’s knee, Danny eyeing the large ghost. “As a prince of the dead should be!”. ClockWork holding up a finger, “and a young god”; Pariah nodding.
The FrightKnight nods himself, “he could use further sword training of course, I’d be more than happy to-”.
Pariah cuts him off harshly, “do not overstep your place”. Making the knight wilt and bow, “my apologies, your highness”. But Danny pouts, tilting his head back to glare at Pariah, “hey be nice, if you do that to every ghost that pesters me or tries to teach me things you’re going to be doing that for years. Just look at Vlad? That guy has issues and eighty-two of them are me snubbing all his apprenticeship attempts”.
Pariah growls, “that one, the one who stole from me”, scowling, “at least I found you out of his foolishness”, eyeing the FrightKnight, “stand up, tell me, what is that one up to now?”.
Now Danny would actually like to know that as well honestly. Vlad always had a million plans and no way he’d take this shit well.
“After returning to Amity and the mortal realm alongside it, he agreed to ‘watch over’ Valerie Gray and… your son, while the Fenton’s helped with clean up. Your son’s fraid snuck in, weakened him with an invention of his own making, and hog tied him”.
Danny snorts, go them, “nice going guys, wreck his shit”. The FrightKnight actually nods respectfully at Danny, “Vladimir Masters Plasmius had planned to let you wear his majesty out enough for him to take the crown and make me his knight”, huffing, “as if such a thing was possible”.
Pariah laughs loudly, ClockWork simply shaking their head in amusement. That plan sounded exactly like the kind of underhanded, make someone else do the work for me, shit that Vlad would pull. But that meant that Vlad legit thought Danny could win? Just how powerful did Vlad think Danny was??? Or was he just underestimating Pariah that much? Well, it was probably the second option, since Vlad was awful for underestimating people.
Pariah looking down at Danny, “that one is one of yours, punish him how ever you like. As it seems your fraid has already done themselves”.
“So I should blow is house up again, is what you’re saying”. Danny has a feeling Sam and Tuck just earned some positive points with his dad. Nice.
ClockWork holding up a finger and leaning at Danny, “you may want to at least call Ms. Manson though”.
Danny groans, “oh Zone, is she trying to force fed him nightshade again”.
“Indeed”.
“Damn it, Sam”. Danny digging into his impossible pockets, that he thankfully still had, pulls out the little cell Tuck modified to shit so that it would actually work across dimensions… it usually worked anyways.
“DANNY!”.
Yeah okay he saw the shouting coming, still loud though. “Ghost ears guys, I am fine. But put down the fucking nightshade, Sam. I have, like, twenty boxes of fruit loops in the closet, just pelt him with those”.
Sam: “How do you even know! Fine”.
Tuck: “Danny dude are you okay? Not any deader?”.
Danny shrugs to himself, “one, because I know you, Sam. Two because god told me, that is not actually a joke. And yes, Tuck, I’m okay just..”, glancing up at Pariah’s face, ClockWork’s as well as they’ve settled back on the larger ghosts shoulder. “Just got some shit to figure out, turns out I have dead family? Yeah, I’ll explain later”.
Sam: “and what have you been doing while we’ve been worried?!? Yeah we got an ominous letter saying you were fine but like Zone we’d believe that”.
Tuck: “what she said. Does god hate your guts too?”.
Sam: “have you met him? Of course god does”.
“Sam, I’m hurt. I’m not that annoying, unless you ask Vlad but he deserves it. Especially because he is, yes, one hundred percent responsible for this shit, tell him he’s a dumbass, and the next time he thinks pissing off death god is a good idea he should drink himself unconscious first”.
Tuck: “ha!”
Danny nods to himself, “yeah so, no clue when I’ll be back, I’ll try to be quick-ish, promise, okay? And you better put that nightshade back, again, Sam”.
Sam: “damn”… “you sure you’re good? Danny?”.
Tuck: “I’ll eat everything you own if you’re not, man”.
Sam: “did you even win? How?”.
Oh man, what should Danny even say to that? Well he could just fuck with them? Yeah okay they’ll try to kick his ass later but it’ll be worth it. “Yeah didn’t even really fight actually, turns we’re related. Bye”. And promptly hangs up to the sound of shouting. ClockWork smacks him on the head with their staff, “that was mean, son”. Danny only pouts in response.
Pariah waving ClockWork off, “oh let him have his fun”; ClockWork whacks him one too. Leaving dad and son rubbing their heads.
…
The FrightKnight speaks back up against after a bit, “may I inquire about the young prince’s name? To inform the legion and the people?”.
And now Danny’s confused again, did Frighty really seriously forget his name? “Really, Frighty?”.
ClockWork laughs to themselves while Pariah quirks an eyebrow, a judgy one, at Danny. Making the boy squirm a little, “I like nicknaming people, usually to their annoyance”, rubbing his neck and asking, “what does he mean though? My name isn’t exactly unknown”. He literally shouted it as he thought he was flying to his death death for fucks sake!
ClockWork hums, “he means that the name you have is not one we, your parents, have given you”.
“Well I mean, no one decent actually calls me what they named me…”. He still hated being called Daniel, maybe that was because his actual parents didn’t name him that? Danny and Phantom were definitely his names though, even if Danny was technically more of a nickname.
Pariah tilts his head, “something similar perhaps, I refuse to not name my own son”. ClockWork nodding agreeingly, “Dane, Dean, Dayne, Dagny, Denny, Danhy…”.
Danny? gets positively bombarded by D names.
…
It takes a while but they finally, finally, agree on ‘Danhy’ which sounds nearly identically to ‘Danny’ in his opinion, but whatever, at least they’re happy. Danny is just laying on his stomach, on the ground now, while the two ghosts had floated off arguing about the naming thing, were parents normally this heated about baby naming? Ugh. He’s decided that if he ever has a kid he’s called them either Elle or Dan, gender pending. Did that spell out danelle? Yup. Was that maybe a little egotistical? Also yes. Does he care? No. He’s fourteen for fucks sake! He’s not having kids now! (The future would prove that was a lie, fuck you Vlad). At least it was agreed that Phantom was absolutely his name, especially since chosen names were more important than given ones with ghosts, hence why so many ghosts called him Phantom exclusively.
At least the FrightKnight looks like he’s suffering too, Danny pushing himself up off the floor and dusting off his knees. The pointy boots were still surprising to see. The FrightKnight looking him over, huh Danny-Danhy thinks he might have grown a little too. “So it’ll be Phantom Danhy then, am I correct”. Him and Frighty looking to Pariah and ClockWork, both nodding.
Pariah crossing his arms and looking down at them, “so it will be, I’ll smite any who call you that other name”, and scowls. ClockWork actually rolls their eyes.
Danny holding up a finger, “Vlad gets a pass, because that’s a thing with us. I call him Vladdie or V man insultingly, he calls me Daniel insultingly. I call him a fruitloop, he calls me little badger. I call him vampire ass, he calls me hero wannabe. It’s a whole thing”, frowning, “and no smiting Lancer, he’s my favourite teacher”.
Pariah actually sighs, the FrightKnight seems spooked by this, “very well. They are your subjects, I suppose”. ClockWork smiles fondly at the large ghost.
ClockWork floats down and around Danhy, gesturing around, “you should at least familiarize yourself with your castle, no? For it is yours as much as your dad’s, unlike my Clocktower Citadel”. Pariah nods, “indeed, you are irreplaceable as the Guardian of Time”, looking very specifically at Danhy with meaning, “while I can be succeeded”.
Danhy is distinctly reminded of that sword stuck in that podium, rubbing his neck, “yeah okay, I’m not gonna try to stab you anymore”.
“Good”.
Danny, and ClockWork, float up to be more on level with Pariah as the ghost begins what’s effectively a tour.
…
To say there’s a lot of rooms would be an understatement, and it looked like some of the place was rebuilding itself to its former glory? Neat. Pariah seemed annoyed that that even needed to be happening at all, fair, it was his castle that got its ass destroyed. Danhy’d be petty annoyed if someone beat the shit out of his town to this degree too. There’s a tapestry room, treasury, maybe a meeting room, servant rooms, dressing rooms, ceremonial rooms, banquet hall, Pariah’s bed room, ClockWork’s bedroom, a… couples room (little weird to see that), and… his bedroom.
His bedroom.
As in a room, in this giant fuck off castle, that was for him.
It was still so weird, but also felt… really right. This place already seemed more like home that FentonWork’s, especially because it didn’t suddenly attack him at all. Sure sometimes the ceilings felt too tall or the rooms too big but that also meant more room to fly around in. ClockWork even told him a space observatory was already forming! How cool was that!?
His room though? It changed the second he stepped foot in it. Went from looking like it was definitely intended for a toddler to… well to his.
Glowing stars patterned the roof, walls painted in ecto green galaxies, a fluffy night sky dark carpet the kind that Jack and Maddie always said was too difficult to clean ectoplasm out of so why bother, the bed is HUGE and covered in soft thick comforter after comforter perfect for a cuddle pile, there’s random ass weapons and medikits and a Fenton Thermos with a DP on it of all things, the closets full of baggy clothes and nasa print and pun shirts, there’s an entire box of spare shoes since he destroyed his so often, a milkshake machine! Espresso too!, a little laptop that Tuck can definitely mess with to get it to work cross realm, there’s a little dog bed for Cujo even. It’s awesome really.
Danhy turning his head to tell them as such, “this is so freaking cool!”. That earns him some hair ruffles, Pariah looks a little judgy but whatever. It was probably because Danhy wasn’t, like, a tough bad boy, or whatever, like him. Besides, Danny can absolutely see a mini bomb or two, he got menace privileges some times okay? And bombs were really easy to make.
… maybe Danhy can spend at least one night here before heading back. And seeing the grins on Pariah and ClockWork when he tells them as much kinda makes it worth it all the more.
Yeah, this place was definitely a home of sorts. He was totally gonna have to drag Sam and Tuck over, and give very thorough introductions and convince them that no the giant scarred horned Viking ghost was not tricking him and would not kill them or try to.
Waking up in the morning is fucking blissful because his new bed is fucking heavenly on sore muscles and bruised bone. He calls Sam and Tuck immediately to let them know he’s up and awake before going about getting up. He’s human again, and has a mirror…
He looks…
Not that different actually. His jaw is a bit sharper, hair’s a bit more fluffy and scruffy, he has a tiny amount of stubble!, his eyes have a sharpness to them that wasn’t there before he thinks and they’ve got that black ‘evil eyeliner’ shit that so many ghosts had, his canines are a little longer but not outright fangs ditto for his finger nails, he is definitely more physically filled out, still really pale… Other than that he looked exactly the same, and with throwing on some of the clothing he looks even more the way he always has.
It’s kinda weird… not looking much different for how much has just inherently changed. But…
Looking back and shifting forms.
Oh yeah, different big time. PR nightmare for sure. The armour does one hundred percent go down his back and into his belt just like the front. Pale blue skin? Check. Pointed ears and fangs? Check. Lazily flaming white hair? Check. Red pupils in green eyes with that evil eyeliner? Check. Man he’s gotta stop calling it evil eyeliner now. Damn. Still got the little, now white, stubble though! Awesome!
Running a hand through the flames, which moves like it is actually hair, weird, “alright. Okay. I looks badass at least. I definitely can’t let Sam and Tuck see this form first though or they will have heart attacks thinking I’m fully dead or something”, cringing, “which, well, I am. But also am not”. Well they’ve been cool with his half dead shit, full dead and full alive was barely different.
Shaking his head and changing back human to pop out, nearly smashing into The FrightKnight, “Zone fuck! Dude what the Hell?”.
“I was instructed to wait here for you to wake, my prince”.
“Do you want me to stab you? I will stab you?”.
The FrightKnight shakes his head and leads Danhy to a feasting hall. ClockWork was off in a corner looking at mirror screen things that had seemed to form out of nowhere. Pariah was still looking through stone tablets, oh fuck that guy probably has centuries of shit to go through. Please say Danhy won’t have to help with that, please. ClockWork making him jump, “I wouldn’t fret, it’s a prince’s job to fool around and make a mess, until it’s their time to deal with all the fools and messes”.
Danhy putting a hand to his chest, “way to give me a heart attack, pops, damn”.
Pariah huffs from his chair, “you can not get heart attacks, Danhy, you are immune to such mortal weakness”, then eyeing ClockWork, “ancient one, lonely one, come rest your head, our son is up is he not”. ClockWork does send away the screen things at least.
Danhy tilting his head as ClockWork gives him some cereal, fucking booberries nice, “what are the screen things?”.
“Time and all that’s contained within it”.
“That explains nothing, thanks”. Zone damn it. Danhy’s decided he definitely likes this cheeky bastard. Then having to tilt his head back, spoon in his mouth, at Pariah just suddenly being behind him looming over him; Danhy blinks and smirks up cheekily.
“I believe I know where you got most of your personality”.
Danhy will take the compliment. Danhy then proceeds to swallow before spitting a spoon out at Pariah Dark god king of death, overlord and warlord of all of the Infinite Realm itself. ClockWork turns away barely containing laughter.
“Since it appears you’re rested, we will spar again”.
Oh it seems Danhy has made a mistake. A fatal error.
…
Danhy did, in fact, make a mistake. As he gets bodily tossed into a wall. He guesses it makes sense his dad, a ghost king, would want to see what his missing son is made of. Especially with Danhy having been living/existing surrounded by squishy humans and fighting more average strength ghosts. You know, instead of fucking gods and entire armies; which yes, he was somewhat expected to somewhat deal with now.
Also though, Danhy was stronger than he was before. He’s pretty sure ClockWork did more than just restrict his appearance. ‘Cause when he blasts his dad it actually pierces the shield Pariah makes; at least the ghost looks pleased.
Danhy still gets bashed with a mace though. He manages to kick him into a wall back at least, not that that seemed to do any actual damage.
Pops meanwhile was just reversing time around things to fix damages. Danhy pouting at them when he breaks another chair trying to avoid a sword, ClockWork only smirks at him; jerk. Danhy throws the sword back, also glaring at Pariah just mentally catching with telekinesis.
Danhy thinks he has telekinesis but ain’t about to count on that.
“You are still young”.
“I’ve noticed”. Danhy absolutely takes the very next cheap shot he can, smacking Pariah with a broken pillar before ClockWork gets to fixing it. he also successfully avoids multiple thrown weapons.
Pariah grinning at him, “you’re battle harden enough, not as far as you would have been under me but it will do”. Danhy’s not sure if that’s a compliment. “You don’t hesitate to use your environment to your advantage or your size in comparison to mine”.
Danhy’s up on the ceiling in a Spider-Man pose sticking out his tongue, at least now he knew this wasn’t ’fuck imma die’ kinda fight. “I fight a lot of different ghosts, of shape, size, and location. I might not do wars or gods or whatever but I still have a combat skill set”.
ClockWork sticking up a finger, fixing a chair, “and Maddie did teach you multiple mortal fighting techniques”. Making Danhy rub his neck, dodging an axe without having to look at it, “yeah, one of the few things she actually would praise me for”. The Fenton’s didn’t care about space or art so those skills didn’t matter to them; and he didn’t have good grades and didn’t agree with them about ghosts, so the fighting techniques was all he did good in their eyes. They… still did love him though, which was weird to think about now. Should he tell them? It would be kinda mean not to, but it was also kinda mean to want to dissect sentient beings.
Danhy flipping and twisting inhumanly around Pariah’s fist, smacking the guys wrist with his ghostly tail, Pariah shaking it off as he flies backwards, grinning impressed, “it takes a great deal of force and power to deal damage with one’s tail”.
“It does?”, danhy did it all the time!
Pariah nods, “I believe this is enough”, letting Danhy relax, “I believed you want to return to that town of yours, correct?”; he’s clearly still none too happy about that but Danhy nods anyways.
Danny rubbing his neck as he lowers himself enough to be on eye level with his dad, “though, like, obviously I’m coming back often, duh. But, like, I definitely want to finish human school and hang out in my town, you know? And being in Amity is kinda needed to protect it and shit”.
ClockWork smirking gets Danhy’s attention, “I think you’ll find that to not be the case now. You are my son after all, I hardly need to be somewhere to see or sense what is occurring there”. Danhy absolutely gasping, if Clocky was implying he could sense if a ghost was starting shit regardless of where Danhy was that would be awesome! Especially since FentonWorks wasn’t actually a super safe place to stay ever really. Pariah crossing his arms, “I could merely decree the citizens stay out-”.
Danhy butting in immediately, “hey no bad, I’m a big believer in personal freedom. Plus I’d be sad if Boxy ever got over his weird masochistic desire to fight me”. ClockWork smirking meanly, “I’ll make sure to remind you of that when you complain about him fighting you twenty plus times in a day”.
“Hey, be nice to me, I’m baby”, glancing around a little, “but since you’re the one that put me with the Fenton’s, do they know? Should I tell them?”.
Pariah apparently has opinions on that, “I have no interest in them believing nor claiming themselves my son’s makers”. Danhy can’t really blame the guy for that, he just found his kid again! Of course he wouldn’t want someone else calling his son theirs.
ClockWork looks unimpressed at Pariah, “he can hardly be open with his relation to us, as a human or ghost, with the humans”, then tilting their head and humming. Pariah just waits so Danhy’s going to take a wild guess and say they ‘saw’ something. ClockWork’s grin is nearly ear splitting, “or he could be, as a human at least”. Danhy knows that smile is absolutely meant to encourage him to go along with this, probably because it will cause chaos; Clocky seems to like chaos.
Pariah smiles back, “I care not if the truth torments anyone, if it’s well for him then he should”, and looks at danhy.
Okay so… then Danhy should? Obviously he’s telling Sam and Tuck, he basically already did. But this was free range to just tell fucking everyone. Just ‘oh yeah, freaky Fenton? Not actually a Fenton! Actually the child of a god and death king!’ which yeah, chaos. Something tells him Dash will still try to give him swirlies and shit. But… this would give him a good excuse for any power usage or other general weirdness. Like if he, say, looks more ghostly even while human in the future. Plus will Jack/kinda dad actually be able to keep this to himself if Danhy tells him? Danhy will tell Vlad for sure, that guy won’t tell anyone. Shrugging, “eh fuck it, why not”, plus he legit feels like Maddie or Jack calling him son now is going to actually bother him. More of a ‘rubs him the wrong way’ rather than making him wanna punch them like with Vlad.
He gets a pair of matching grins, one mischievous and one vaguely cruel; Danhy giving back a cruel mischievous smile.
ClockWork holds up a finger, “as for how you wound up with the Fenton’s, since this will be relevant, young Jasmine found you in a haunted forest. The Fenton’s believed you to be spirited away by ghosts and insisted on keeping you. ‘For your safety’”.
Danhy snorts, “well I guess I was spirited away in a sense”. Pariah glares at ClockWork over that, clearly still none too pleased.
Danhy eyes the FrightKnight, “why are you following me, Frighty?”.
Pariah crosses his arms, leaning down at Danhy, “you are his prince, you are to be protected at the least for your first return trip. It is the least of his duties”. What a nice way to say Frighty had to do this or else.
Danhy groaning and sagging dramatically, “but whyyyyyy?”. ClockWork scolding him, “let your dad pamper you some, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the out come”. That feels more like an ominous warning instead of comfort.
Danhy squinting, “suddenly I don’t trust you”. The FrightKnight actually picks him up and carries him over his shoulder to fly away from the castle, “you are going to be the end of me”.
“Awww, come on now, why would I end my new pet?”.
“I am hardly a pet”.
“I think I could convince dad to decree otherwise”.
“I humbly request that you do no such thing, your highness”.
“Beg me more, peasant”.
The FrightKnighr doesn’t dignify that with a response. But hey, Danhy is obviously not going to actually get Frighty’s title change to ‘pet’, Danhy wasn’t nearly that much of a dick.
…
Danhy shoves himself off of The FrightKnight’s shoulder when they get to the portal, Danhy floating and human dusting himself off, “you are not shoulder carrying me in, gosh”.
“That would be rather undignified, yes”.
“Fuck you”.
Danhy sticks his fingers in the door crack and just yanks the thing open, so long as it’s not locked that’ll work; especially with his newer strength. It is not locked, nice. Leaving Danhy nodding at the swirling portal, shouting, “BARREL ROLL!”, and summersaulting in; The FrightKnight sighing after him.
---
Pariah watching on one of ClockWork’s time screens, ClockWork sitting on his shoulder, “that boy is appropriately a menace. I almost pity my knight”.
“Oh it gets worse, one day he’ll terrorize Nocturne within their own domain within their domain. Best Votex with his own might. He’ll mount an Observant like taxidermy. A ViralHelm has even taken a liking to him”.
Pariah almost regrets having a child, he absolutely does not though. That boy was precious, precious and merciless. When he first fought the boy, the boy truly meant to do away with him; as unready as he was to do so.
ClockWork seeing something that’s not on the screen, “he could be the best or the worst thing this realm has ever seen, I’m afraid. He has suffered and he will suffer more; there is nothing for it but the worst out come is no longer possible”.
“… Thank you”.
“Of course, and may the Observants fall”.
“They will, no matter what, they will; for they are the ones who have done wrong, not I, and I have no interest in providing second chances”.
Chap.3: Life’s So Far Complicated
Jazz jumps up from the chair she’d practically slept in, blanket falling to the ground, “Danny!”.
Danhy blinks at her, he didn’t actually expect anyone to be here, fuck. Why does he do this to himself? He should have checked first! “Jazz?”, eyeing the blanket on the ground, “did you sleep in the lab?”. Even Danhy had never done that! The FrightKnight walks in through the portal, all tall armoured and threatening; making Jazz tense and try to move for a weapon. Danhy holding up his hands, “hey woah it’s fine, he’s cool now. So why were you sleeping down here?”.
She blinks at him, “mom and dad are out and Sam and Tuck are watching Vlad so I told them I’d wait for your return”.
Danhy blinks, “my… return?”. Okay now he’s confused. He’d expect that from Sam or Tuck but, like, Jazz shouldn’t know he was in the gz.
“I know Danny, okay”, she glances around awkwardly, smiling a little though, “I’ve known for a while, I told Sam and Tucker because they tried to go looking for you”.
Danhy makes aggressive disbelieving hand gestures at her, screwing his face up a bunch, “the fuck, how?”.
“You should check doorways better when you transform in alleyways, Danny”, her smile is soft at least, “I’m glad I know though, even if you keep worrying me. Which please stop”.
Danhy pouts, “okay fine I guess that’s on me”, well at least it was Jazz who saw, not like a G.I.W. agent or something.
The FrightKnight shakes his head, arms crossed, “you are far too relaxed and inattentive, your highness”. Danhy huffing and sticking his arms out to the side, “dude! You gotta let me explain shit before you start using royal titles holy shit!”. The ghost is absolutely not apologetic.
Jazz looks deeply concerned, “Danny… did you dethrone a king?”. Which fine, that’s exactly what he had technically gone to do.
Danhy facepalms, “okay I know why that would make sense and that would be less weird, but no”. Fucking FrightKnight and his stupid mouth. Dropping his hand from his face and rubbing his neck, “so, I now know I’m adopted and how?”. Jazz practically collapsing back into the chair, wheezing. Danhy walking after her, “and like, no hard feelings about not telling me or anything, ‘cause that woulda probably bothered me and been yet another thing on my mind all the time, so you’re good, and I also know that you pretty much brought me into the family? Also that theory about me being ‘spirited away by ghosts’ is actually correct, surprise?”.
Jazz bends over and wheezes, “oh I hate that, please don’t tell them that part”, her sitting back up, “if you’re going to bring this up to them at all, you don’t have to. But… how did you find out? Is that why you were gone so long? Are they… ghosts? Were they trying to protect you from the afterlife since they couldn’t stay with you?”.
“Fuck you for being freakishly close to the truth. You are too smart for your own good, Zone damn”.
She beams at him, “I’ll take the compliment, little brother”, pointing at him firmly, “you’re still my brother no matter what”.
Danhy putting up his hands, “yeah yeah, of course, Jazz. Being related doesn’t mean shit, I mean you basically raised me”. She smiles sadly at that while Danhy moves to sit on a desk, “the only part you’re missing or got wrong I guess, is, uh, apparently I was never really human. Born a ghost, just apparently my, you know, parents are extra and decided to defy reality and defile life and death, their words, and have me as also a fully living human. Or ghost able to be human”.
She buries her head in her hands, whining, “Danny”.
“Yeah I know, I’m a handful. You know the guy who just abducted the town? Yeah”.
She doesn’t move for a beat, looking up at him with almost disgust, “the giant horned Viking? That threatened to kill everyone? The one Vlad implied is the king of all ghosts? That one?”, scrunching her face up and glaring at the FrightKnight, “that’s why you called him ‘your highness’! God, Danny”.
“My other parent is, in fact, a god, yes”. She throws the blanket at his stupid smirk. Fair enough. Danhy shoving the blanket back to the floor, “to be fair, he was doing that because he lost his shit over his kid suddenly going missing as an infant”, rolling his wrist, “my other parent just didn’t tell him they took me to the living realm to protect me from some other god assholes”. Jazz looks like she wants to cry and hit him.
Danhy swings his legs a bit, “so”.
“Oh my Zone your life is a nightmare, Danny”
“I think ectoplasmic soap opera is more accurate”.
“Go see your friends before they kill Vlad, you jerk”.
“They haven’t already?”.
She throws the blanket at him again, he does move to head upstairs while finger gunning at her though; leaving behind a groaning sister. It was… kinda nice that she knew about him actually; and she’s clearly been able to sit with it for a while so he shouldn’t fret about it too much.
…
Danhy sticks his head into his room, Sam’s and Tuck’s backs are to him, Vlad’s unconscious, Val’s asleep. Cool. Okay. Danhy pulling his head back and pointing at the FrightKnight, “you. Stay put”. The ghost rolls his eyes and huffs, but does as he’s told. Danhy pushing his way in fully.
“DANNY!”.
Danhy can’t help but grin at the fond overly worried way the shout at him. Both tackling him in a hug… it’s a lot easier to stay standing than it used to be.
Tuck pulls back and squints at him, holding his shoulders, “you are Danny, right? You look off”. Sam also pulling back and squinting at him suspiciously.
Danhy puts up his hands as much as he can, “yea, Tuck, man. Like I said, got some weird ass shit to explain. It’s one part a power upgrades though”; that gets him a high five.
“Awesome dude! You better explain though, you look all kinds of off”.
Sam frowning at him, crossing her arms, “agreed, your eyes look more like Vlad’s”.
“I take great offence to that, ouch”, Danhy rubs his neck before pointing at his bed and moving to flop down on it, they join him is a sorta cuddle pile at least. “Okay, so when I said I’m related to Pariah, I meant that shit. See apparently these two ghost gods had a kid, some other ghost gods were assholes trying to basically kill me so the one god sent me to the living realm where Jazz found me and thus I got adopted by the Fentons”.
It takes a while to get a response, Tuck snorting, “so basically you’re not human at all and never were? How the heck, dude”.
Sam hums, poking Danny’s side, “I’m not so sure about that, he’s way too human to not be human-ish”.
Danhy chuckling, “I mean, I did grow up around humans, Sam. But yes, I am human. My two actual parents are crazy-”.
“-wow, you find out your crazy parents aren’t actually your parents only for your actual parents to also be crazy, fuck you I guess”.
Danhy jabs Tuck one, lightly because he’s pretty positive his strength is outta whack, “I know right? Anyway they decided fuck it, let’s have a kid that is utterly impossible and both a hundred percent dead AND a hundred percent alive. So I’m not half alive, half dead any more; just all dead and all alive”. They both laugh mercilessly. “Oh and Sam? No one and nothing actually killed me, all the portal did was apparently weaken the seal or whatever my apparent pops put on me so I’d stay hidden with humans”.
The sigh of relief is very audible, Danny’s frankly just glad that she’ll hopefully finally stop blaming herself for something that was never her fault now. He knows Sam’s biting her lip, “well the accident still could have gotten you found I guess”.
“Sam no, it’s seriously fine. Also pops literally knew it was gonna happen, they can see the future and I’m thankful I did not inherit that, holy shit”. That would have been such a headache and he honestly would have a hard time not constantly trying to fix future problems. Clocky seemed amoral enough to stay neutral on most things.
“... wow. What did you inherit then?”, Tuck chuckles, “I’ve always kinda wondered what the hell you even got from your parents- the Fenton’s, I mean”.
“That’s fair”. Even Danhy kinda noticed the lack of similarities. Sam only hums in agreeance. So Danhy continues, “what’s also fair is you laughing at me when I transform next, the changes are a lot more noticeable in ghost form. My skin is blue, guys. And now my hairs made of fire”.
Sam grumbles, “that’s going to blow up online”.
“I know! I’m not looking forward to that”, sighing, “and my suit is less biohazard jumpsuit, more armour with actual clothing and boots and gloves and, ugh I know Vlad’s gonna be a pain, because I also have a freaking cape now”. He, once again, gets laughed at mercilessly.
Tuck, between laughs and snorts, “in short”, laugh, “you look”, snort, “like a proper”, laugh, “proper hero”, laugh, “now”, snort, “underwear on the”, laugh, “on the outside now?”.
“Ew no! And I’d show y'all now but I don’t feel like playing chicken with Val’s sleeping habits”.
Sam jabs him, “look at you being smart for once, also, you have stubble”. Tuck shouting, “damn you!”, and punching Danhy in the arm.
Danhy cackles, “sucks to suck, Tuck! But literally both of them have solid facial hair so it ain’t weird, though Clocky’s is only sometimes there? Cause they’ve got a weird constant age changing thing going on, also glad I didn’t inherit that”, and shudders to himself, “also glad I’m not, like, twenty damn feet tall like dad”.
Tuck pushes himself up to stare down at Danhy, quirking an eyebrow, “you have adjusted weirdly quickly to calling them your, dad and pops? Two guys? Whatever. Ghost thing?”. Sam grumbling, “it’s not like the Fenton’s really deserve to be called parents to begin with”.
Danhy wincing, they weren’t exactly wrong about that. Jack and Maddie had never really treated him or Jazz super well. Eyeing Tuck, “yeah, ghost thing. Apparently ghosts can just feel family, that’s partly why I know they’re telling the truth. Besides the sudden changes in my appearance and Pariah doing a sudden one eighty from murdery to ‘son?’”, humming, “it’s sorta a soft, safe, yarn feeling; kinda hard to put into words”.
Tuck shrugs down at him before flopping back down partly on top of him, “eh that tracks for ghost shit, dude”, jerking back up, “wait Pariah’s the ghost king right?!?”.
Sam jerking up too, “oh yeah, you said you were related. Seriously though? One of your parents is the literal king of ghosts? Is that why he basically demanded you to come to him? Oh that jackass!”.
“Sam the guy was locked in a coffin for centuries thinking his kid was fucking dead dead, I think he’s allowed to be a bit of a jackass”, shrugging up at them, “but yes, that Pariah. I basically said ‘harder daddy’ mid fight and dude went ‘I’m not trying to break your arm, son’, I was very confused”. Tuck wheezes and smacks the bed a few times, Sam just glares at him murderously; she’s calling him a moron in her head, he knows it.
All three still at a soft groan, looking down to the corner where Val is stirring. Danhy pushing himself to be sitting upright with his friends, “well good morning sleepy head”. That gets Val awake immediately, her jumping up “Danny! Where have you been! And why does your hair look like you fluffed it to death with a towel?”. Danhy can’t help wheezing and bending over at that; Sam and Tuck joining in and even Val eventually, who flops back down onto the floor.
Danhy wiping away a tear, “ho, I needed that, thanks Val”. She rolls her eyes, Danhy continuing, “and I’ve been finding out I’m fucking adopted, hows your day going?”. Sam and Tuck give him slightly worried looks so he leans over whispering, “it’s fine, I’ve pretty much been told I gotta be open about it as, you know, good ol’ human Danny not-a-Fenton”. They sigh at him, clearly thinking this is dumb but not fighting him on this.
He can’t blame them, it is actively pretty fucking dumb. But the pros out weigh the cons, causing chaos for one and of course covering any ghostly shit he might do and covering Frighty maybe following him around and getting him out of ‘being a Fenton’ kinda and letting him go back home to the castle more. Lots of things really.
Val blinks at him, “what? Since when? Like the Fenton’s aren’t your parents or someone literally just randomly adopted you and you had to go deal with it”.
“The first, Val. My life’s weird but the universe doesn’t quite hate me that much, zone fuck”.
Tuck snorting, “if anyone accidentally adopted Danny, it’d be Vlad”.
“Do not temp that fate, Tuck”. Danhy ignores the huffed, “as if Pariah or ClockWork would allow such a thing”, from the other side of the door; at least the guy was quiet enough to avoid being heard by normal human ears.
Val grimaces, “I hate that you sound like you have a point”.
Danhy grimacing, “he’s tried. Buuuuuut, apparently my real parents hid me in a forest to stop gods from killing me, because the universe does actually hate me that much, the Fenton’s found me and now here I am? Tada?”, shrugging exaggeratedly, “also I may or may not owe the town a slight apology since my dad is the guy that just abducted the town into the gz”.
Val stares at him disbelievingly, “... the giant Viking ghost is your dad? What the fuck Danny”.
“Yup, apparently him and a literal ghost god wanted a living kid, ninety percent out of spite towards life and death itself apparently. Some overseer asshole ghost gods did not like that apparently”.
Val throws her hands up in the air, “it’s official, I give up on actually making any sense out of you”, pointing at him, “you are human though, right?”.
“Yes, Val. Just a little weirder than should be possible. Technically my existence is an affront to nature and completely impossible”.
“Can you use your parent rights to make all these ghosts fuck off?”.
“Fuck you. I stand for free will”.
Sam huffing and crossing her arms, “I second that free will. What, in any realm, would make you think Danny’s the type to strip that away from people? Dead people or not”.
Val sticks her arms out to the side, “they’re being a problem!”.
Danhy sticks his arms out right back, “maybe I like problems! Just be glad me not being totally fucking dead solved one problem. Since dad was only being murdery since he thought I’d been smitted out of existence by floating assholes!”.
“You’re seriously calling a ghost dad?!?”.
“Yes! Fuck you! He’s dad!”, shrugging, “other’s pops even if they’re a they them”.
Val geistiges wildly, “they’re ghosts, Danny!”.
“I have decided I do not care, and it ain’t up to you if I care or not, so there”, and Danhy sticks out his tongue at her.
Val groans loudly, let her be upset, this ain’t her choice. His actual parents were great! Val glaring, “you’re a dumbass”.
“That’s not new news”.
Val stares at him. He stares back. Eventually she sags, “whelp, guess I’m sorta friends with a dumbass and a guy with ghost family, fuck my life”, blinking, “wait is this why you’re sorta ghostly?”.
That gets three, ‘what’s in response. So she shrugs, “your eyes flash green when you’re angry, you give off the sorta creepy danger vibe that ghosts do, you bare your teeth a lot”, and rolls her wrists.
“People actually notice I/he does that?!?”.
Danhy throwing his hands out, “why does no one bitch at me about that shit?!?”.
Val looks amused, still clearly annoyed but also amused, “Everyone just thinks the Fenton’s messed you up”.
Danhy flushes, “well to be fair they did feed me ectoplasm, so they probably would have”. Why they did that he still doesn’t quite get, scientists sure but if you’re gonna test shit like that then test it on yourself not on your supposed kids.
Tuck snorting, “well I guess we know how the heck that didn’t kill you, or mess you up”.
Val grimaces, “yeah that’s really messed up, I thought you were kidding all the times you mentioned them basically experimenting on you”, huffing, “I guess I can understand not wanting the Fenton’s as parents. Taking ghosts over them is still ridiculous. And I am absolutely not calling you, ‘your highness’”.
The FrightKnight has apparently gotten bored, sticking his head in through the door, “you should, the Prince is above you”.
Val damn near launches herself into the ceiling, and twitches; Danhy groans, “you were doing so good at staying, like a good little doggie”. The FrightKnight almost looks insulted as he just walks through the door entirely into the room, ugh.
Val growling, “what the hell”. Danny would bet money that she’s seconds away from trying to throw hands with the FrightKnight... again.
Danny jumping up and off of his bed, standing between a pissed and startled Val and Frighty, “don’t start throwing my stuff at the dude that’s technically my body guard now”. The FrightKnight is busy glaring down at the somehow still unconscious Vlad. Danhy continuing with trying to pacify the trigger happy huntress, “yes, Pariah basically stuck him to me ‘cause of, you know, people maybe wanting to kill me for my relations and shit”. That was some believable bullshit, right? Right.
She smacks him, which he fully expected, at least The FrightKnight doesn’t react; because Danhy’s friends and sorta friend are absolutely allowed to hit him. Thing is Val just kinda keeps hitting him, until she seems to tire herself out; Sam and Tuck are just laughing, since it was kinda obvious she wasn’t actually trying to hurt him here. Danhy, with arms covering his face for protection, “you done?”; he wasn’t even so much as bruised but still, he is definitely more durable now.
She hits him once more just to be able to say, “no”. Then flopping back down onto the ground, leaning backwards on her hands and glaring up at Danhy, “you suck, that thing was literally terrorising people and now it’s just following you around? Seriously?”.
“He’s the fucking personification of fear, what the Zone do you expect? For him to not scare people?”.
Sam getting up and brushing off her pants, “as fun as it was to watch Valerie beat you, we should probably drop Vlad off before he wakes up to a knight ghost ominously staring down at him”. The FrightKnight sighs, picking the old man up and throwing him over his shoulder, definitely bruising the guys chin in the process, “I’m well aware of his residences”.
Val glaring, “and whys that, ghost”.
“He attempted to request for my assistance before”.
Danhy puts a hand to his chest, “and what? You’re just gonna leave poor, weak, defenceless, me here alone. The audacity. How could you”. Sam smacks him over the head for that one. The FrightKnight just shaking his head before flying off out the window... at least Val doesn’t try to follow him or some shit, even if Danhy’s positive she wants to.
Annnnnd then Jazz opens the door, sticking her head in, “okay so, I noticed the very unnecessary and noticeable, Danny, guard is gone. I feel the need to point out that you are absolutely going to have to explain this to mom and dad if that Knight ghost is just going to follow you around constantly”.
Danhy rubbing his neck then looking around the room, “so who feels like helping explain that their adopted kid is the child of ghosts, ghost royalty and gods specifically, to the Fenton’s?”.
Val puts her hands up, “nope. I’m out. I was out before you even asked. I’d offer a place to stay if me and dad had the room though. Also, you still suck”. Tuck adding on, “my place is always open to Danny-dude, don’t worry about it”.
Sam laughing at him, “I’m pretty sure no one can actually help with that, Danny. You’re screwed”.
“Ha! Don’t I know it”, Danhy shrugging, “advice though?”; Danhy’s open to pretty much anything here. ‘Cause there was no way this was going to go remotely well for him at all, even kinda.
“Don’t tell them at all?”.
“Hide all the weapons before they get here, remove the weapons vault doorknob, and stand very far away”.
“Don’t die”.
“Don’t outright reject them as parents, I get that you might not see that way now, but do they really need to know that?”.
Danhy scratching his head, “well not dying is kinda the main goal, Val, and I’m telling them, Sam”.
Sam huffs, “I don’t know why you think they deserve to know anything ever”.
Danhy rolling eyes, “at the least they gave me family till I found my actual one”, pointing at Val, “ghosts or no”, then focusing back on Sam, “and not telling them when I fully intend to be more or less public with this sounds super stupid and hard to do”.
“Why would you do that?”.
“Even I think that’s stupid to do, Danny”.
“I mean at least I’ll get some cred for being a prince’s friend? I also think this is a dumb idea though, man”.
Danhy leans away from them all, “hey, literally all three of you immediately noticed I’ve changed, for one. For two, I need some kind of explination for inevitable accidental ghost-like shit. For three, I honestly would rather sleep in Pariah’s Keep than here; I have a room that’s super comfy with a very cuddle pile worthy bed. For four, they, Pariah mostly, really want it public and as it stands I like them”.
Sam smirks at him, “aw look at you actually trying to make a parental figure proud for a change”. Danhy pouts at her, yes Pariah did… probably end A TON of ghosts and all the ghosts seemed to view him as a horrific threat but Danhy’s positive he’d take losing his own loved ones just as poorly if not worse. The guy was old fashion but he seemed nice enough! Sure he shot Danhy into a wall and a bunch of other things but that’s just ghosts for you. Plus! Danhy not being good at fighting would definitely be a problem, ‘cause he’s one hundred percent going to get into fights purely because of who he is now rather than just what or because he was protecting humans or because he was fun to fight. Now there were gonna be ghosts who wanted to test ‘their prince’ -still weird that that meant him- and ‘Pariah’s spawn’. Danhy’s got no clue how well known clockpops is so he can’t say for sure if anyone’s gonna fight him over being related to them or not.
Jazz sighing, walking over more and smiling at Danhy, “I guess they really must have made a good impression then”. Val scowling, “since when do ghosts ever leave good impressions”.
Danhy snickering, “oh I don’t know, Val. Phantom leaves pretty big ones in the road all the time”. She scowls at him but jumps from her phone going off, “shit dad”, and scurrying out of the room shouting about how she ‘has to head home’ and to ‘not be stupid Danny! They’re ghosts!’. Honestly, Danhy’s more cautious with ghosts than most since he actually knows what he’s actually dealing with, sure the bond thing is definitely making him lower his guard to a weird degree, but screw her, they were safe and home and his. Danhy shaking his head then looking back to his friends and sister, “I guess I should have said this already, but seeing as everyone just keeps saying my name-”.
“It’s a very easy way to scold you, Danny”.
“True”.
“It’s also kinda funny”.
“Hey at least we’re not like Dash”.
“Ugh, don’t remind me”, Danhy sags a little before straightening out, “anyways, they totally changed my name”.
“What!”.
“No! I object”.
“… your face tells me they changed it to actually be Danny”.
Sam and Tuck both blinking and relaxing at realising Jazz is probably right. Danhy grinning, “pretty much, it’s Danhy, with an h, now. It’s Nordic I think?”, and shrugs. All three just laugh at him, Tuck googling a little and yup it’s Nordic.
Sam patting Danhy’s back, “have fun telling Lancer and Vlad that, do you care if we just still with what we know?”.
“Naw, it’s basically the same. And Lancer gets a free pass, Vlad though I’m gonna have fun with. Though I think I convinced dad to not beat them up for calling me ‘Daniel’? he really doesn’t like that someone else named me”.
Jazz shaking her head but tapping her chin, “well, being your actual parents that makes sense, parents often put lots of care and thought into names. And even mom and dad-”, eyeing Danhy a little, “-don’t ever really call you that”.
That was probably really for the best, even if the nickname he gave himself was based off the name they gave him, which of course basically chose his new actual name for him. Pariah was probably never going to actually forgive pops for letting someone else name him. Shrugging, “which I’m very glad about, it not being a name my actual folks gave me is probably part of why I never liked it”, rubbing his neck, “and I’m still not sure on what to call… Jack and Maddie, Jazz. ‘Cause they’re definitely not mom and dad now”, and grimaces, “which is hundred percent partly a ghost thing”. Again, them being ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ felt very wrong now, it made his spine crawl almost as much as it did with Vlad. She doesn’t look happy so he sighs, “it’ll definitely depend how the talk goes”.
Sam huffing, crossing her arms, “if they kick you out or ask if you can give them your parents for experiments, then all they’ll get from me is called ‘the Fenton’s’ with fucking venom”. Danhy scowling, “Sam, if they do the second one I will throw hands”. She clearly agrees with that plan.
Tuck moving to sit back on his? bed, “figured out what you are gonna tell ‘em?”.
“Honesty? Minus any ‘I’m Phantom’ stuff”, rubbing his neck, “Zone I’ll probably explain things better to them than y’all just to get it all out on the table at once”. At least they all nod at that.
Jazz pointing at him though, “do you actually know everything about it though?”. Of course he didn’t? When did he ever know everything about whatever was going on with him? He just laughs meanly at her, making her roll her eyes, “you know if you can’t actually answer all their questions they’re not gonna believe you really”.
“Well then that’s on them”, shrugging, “sure pops could absolutely explain everything, they know literally everything about everything pretty much, but Maddie and Jack probably won’t believe a ghost and ClockWork will definitely mess with them. They gave me my goblin energy”.
“Oh Zone no”.
“There’s a god with your goblin energy? We’re all doomed”.
Jazz just smiles and laughs at him a little, at least she wasn’t freaking out on him. Especially since she knew about the whole ‘your brother is a dead ghost that fights ghosts in the streets all the time’ thing. He’s got some serious questions about how much she knew about his bullshit but that was a conversation for another day and time, especially considering he can hear the front door opening. “Oh shit, I think I just ran out of planning time”.
Jazz quirks an eyebrow but Sam crouches and scurries out of the room quietly and back in, nodding at him, “yeah it’s them. Want us to hide out in here in case shit goes south?”.
Danny crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow, “will you actually stay up here if they do say something messed up?”, she pouts at him making him sigh, “just, only come down if I actually ask you guys to? Please?”, pointing at Jazz, “and we both know you’ll talk over me and try to explain things yourself”.
She doesn’t deny it, because it’s true and she knows it. “I’ll be in my room, but I’m going to talk to them first”, at Danhy’s face, “not to explain anything, just to prepare them. You being ‘surprise I know I’m adopted’ is not a great ice breaker, Danhy”.
“Well it’s all I got”.
“Exactly”, she huffs and walks out of the room. “Oh! Glad you guys are back!…”.
Danhy blinking at the closing door, did she always have to meddle so much? Like yes he loved her, very much, but ugh. Sisters. She also had a point which was so annoying. Sam and Tuck both pat his back supportingly. Sam pointing at him, “know that both of us will throw hands if they hurt you”. Tuck lifting up his pda, “ready and waiting to strike”.
Zone damn it, he loves these stupid assholes. Queue one quick-ish hugging session.
Jazz eyeing her folks, she seriously hoped this went well. Danny would be upset if it didn’t regardless of them ‘not being mom and dad’. And she doesn’t want to have to choose between her brother and her parents, even if she knows who she’ll pick without a doubt. She loved her parents but they… weren’t great parents or great people.
“How’s holding down the fort been, Jazzy-pants?”.
Mom smacking him lightly, “she didn’t call, so well”, eyeing Jazz, “or it better have been going well”.
Jazz putting on a smile, “it’s been fine, mom. But there is something that’s come up, you remember how Danny was outside the shield?”, hopefully Danny’s hearing is good enough to hear what she’s going with, since he can’t tell them about intentionally flying off to ‘fight Pariah’ as Phantom.
Both nod, mom immediately looking worried, “oh no, did he get sick? Exposed to too much ectoplasm or hurt?”. Dad making a fist, “if any ghost did then they’re meeting Jack Fenton! And his guns!”.
Even if there was a concerning amount of bigotry behind it the statement that he’d defend her brother still makes her feel warm inside. They weren’t great parents, but they weren’t terrible ones either; they had their moments. Smiling a real smile at them, “no he’s fine, mom, dad. Rather, you remember how you guys said I found Danny? Your theory was nearly completely right about what happened”. Sadly she doesn’t think there’s anyway to explain to them without them knowing Danny actually was in that forest because of ghosts. There was no other actually truthful way to explain that. And if Danny was going to be honest about what his real parents were, the only way that would go well is if her and Danny could convince them that at least his parents didn’t mean him harm. Would protect him.
Dad going wide-eyed, smacking a fist into his hand, “I knew it!”, then deflating, “wait, did the ghost or ghosts who spirited him away come back for him?!”. Mom frowning immediately, “how do you know this? Honey?”.
Jazz gestures at the table and gets them to sit down, her following, “I know because he’s been explaining what happened. The conversation with, yes dad, the ghost who did that. They were protecting him from another ghost or ghosts”.
Mom frowning, “are you sure about that? That doesn’t make sense with ghosts, Jazz”; dad just looks concerned and confused. Which is actually good.
Jazz nodding immediately, “Phantom and that vampire ghost make it really obvious ghosts do weird things to spite each other. It’s not that weird. Plus-”, frowning, because this is when she should frown, “-they were, or are, his parent. The ghost left him there with the intent of us finding him, raising him, protecting him. Because they couldn’t anymore”. Are they going to misinterpret that? Yes. But starting with Danny being born from two ghosts was not a good idea. Let them think Danny’s parent died for now.
Mom looks genuinely sad, knitting her fingers together over her mouth, “I suppose if there’s one thing a parent would remember, even as an impression, it is to protect their child. Especially an infant. Or remember enough to do some ounce of good with their existence”.
Dad nodding readily, “perhaps they were so focused on him that it affected their ghost impression? A parent’s love is one of the strongest things there is after all!”. Jazz isn’t sold on that one, especially with how they’ve treated her and Danny. Dad humming, thinking, “so he was spirited away by a ghost, just away from other ghosts!”.
Mom looks at him fondly before eyeing Jazz, “it sounds like this ghost… still remembers him? And he’s sure about that?”.
Now that’s definitely something Danny’s better off trying to explain himself. “You should ask him that, the ghost doesn’t sound like a normal ghost, mom”. Jazz kinda wishes that didn’t get them more interested in this. “I’m just giving you guys a heads up that he knows he’s effectively adopted and he wants to talk about it but it’s very weird”.
Dad and mom exchanging looks before nodding at her. So she gets up to go get her brother… she hopes they don’t notice he looks a little different. Because that? She can’t explain in any way they’ll take well; especially when her own understanding of how and why that happened is so limited.
---
Danhy quirking an eyebrow at the door as Jazz sticks her head back in, “I’d say you’re good to go, you heard all of that?”.
“Yeah, way to confuse them. Now I have to definitely explain that they were ghosts before I was even a damn idea. Heck, I’m pretty sure ClockWork was born a ghost and just kinda popped into existence”.
Sam rolls her eyes, “gods”, but moves to shove Danhy out of the door. Tuck giving him a thumbs up, “we’ll be here, dude”. Jazz nodding, “I’ll be in my room while you guys have your talk, just, remember they have been parents to you”.
Danhy wincing and nodding as she walks off to her room, leaving him hovering at the top of the stairs a bit, not literally hovering at least. Okay so… for now he thinks he should at least try to leave out that his dad is the king of all ghosts and that his pops is a literal god. That might be too much and they might not even believe him, and Pariah didn’t exactly make a great first impression on anyone. Shaking his head and heading down, this was gonna suck.
Chap.4: Don’t You Want To See A Bit More Of A Better Me?
Danhy tilts sideways to have just his head in the kitchen, eyeing… Jack and Maddie at the table. They smile at him and pat him over, a good sign? Nice. Okay, Jazz’s plan hadn’t been totally shit. Swallowing a little and walking in, shit Jazz didn’t explain that he looked different at all did she? Well they hadn’t noticed more noticeable bullshit. Danhy’s gonna pretend he doesn’t look any different at all. Rubbing his neck as he sits down, “so. You guys adopted me from a random forest, huh?”.
Maddie laughs a little, “I doubt the forest was your parent, sweetie”.
… well at least being called ‘sweetie’ didn’t bother him, cool. So Danhy laughs too, “that would be very confusing”.
…
Jack sticks his arms out, apparently done with the silence, “so you got ghost family! You sure about that one? How?!”. Maddie nodding, “I’d like to know that too. What proof this ghost had”.
Okay. Suspicious but not too suspicious, he can deal with that. Danhy had been more suspect himself, “oh trust me I didn’t believe them at all at first even slightly and was trying to sneak over to something I could use to defend myself”.
“Atta boy!”, Jack smacks him on the shoulder, it hurt a lot less than it used to. Jack was never gonna get better with his strength, Danhy had to not copy that. “A Fenton by brith or not, you were still raised one! Ha!”.
Danhy can’t even say no to that, they did try to ‘make a Fenton’ of him for sure.
Maddie grinning and nodding, “good”, frowning a little, “you’ve always been strangely ghost friendly, so you can understand us being worried right?”, smiling and leaning over to ruffle his hair, “and you’re still our son, if you want to be”.
Danhy making a point not to cringe, that would just be mean and they wouldn’t understand currently or ever maybe, who knows. He’s trying to have this conversation not go to shit and cringing over being called ‘son’ was not the way to get what he wanted. “I mean, I definitely would like to still be family, but they’re definitely my parents?”. Wow he sucks at this.
It’s not remotely surprising they look a little hurt, Maddie frowning, “are… both ghosts? You want… ghosts as parents?”; he can see she’s struggling to not get upset with him. Jack frowning too, “so… not son?”; he looks like he might cry.
Damn it.
Danhy refuses to make Jack? Not-dad? Cry? Fuck he needs something to call them that isn’t just their names. Oh shit Jack’s gonna cry if he hears Danhy call Pariah ‘dad’. It feels way too right not to though? “I mean, yes? No? I’m still thinking on things I guess”, and rubs his neck; at least Jack brightens up a bit. Danhy eyeing Maddie, “definitely yes to them being my parents though, um, it’s not just because I don’t really agree with you guys about ghosts though”.
She sighs, nodding to herself before going back to watching him, “could you explain that then?”. And Jack starts muttering about ‘if this makes the ghosts his family too’ and what to do about that which is baffling to hear? What the hell? Even Maddie looks a little thrown.
Danhy shrugs exaggeratedly, “where to start?”, crap he’s not used to being honest with them, “um so, the reason I was in that forest was because my one parent was protecting me from other ghosts right? Well, that’s ’cause the- I wasn’t, like, a baby who’s parent died”, rolling his wrist awkwardly, “they were ghosts before I was born”.
Jack sputters, “that’s impossible”; Maddie’s just opening and closing her mouth. So Danhy kinda rushes to continue, “that’s kinda what I said”, how the actual shit is he supposed to explain this actually? Well… he could just give the explanation that was given to him? Was that basically telling them he was a ghost? Yeah pretty much. Was doing that kinda dumb? Definitely. Was it all he can think of? Yup. Rubbing his neck, “but like ghosts are mostly an unknown so it’s not that weird to run into something new right? They pretty much called me a ‘living ghost’? Ghost with a living human body that’s entirely theirs and stuff”. Danhy mildly wants to crawl in a hole. “And I can definitely feel that I’m related to them”, now he’s rambling, cool, “it’s like a fluffy safe connection? Yarn in my chest? It’s really hard to explain”, not to mention kinda embarrassing, “and yes I know for sure they didn’t, like, actually put anything in me or whatever. It’s feelings and stuff”. Ugh this sucks. “And I mean I’ve always been kinda weird, I know that. And maybe I should have mentioned a while ago I can understand ghost speak and sense ghosts? And is not exactly new news that all the anti-ghost stuff hurts me-”, he is talking himself into that hole he wanted to crawl into.
Maddie thankfully interrupts him, maybe picking up that he is officially panicking, this was supposed to be a calm! controlled! conversation! It wasn’t! Maddie patting his head, “hey woah, it’s okay. It’s not, but it’s okay”. Jack also scooting his chair closer to Danhy without being looming about it, Maddie taking a breath, “so what you’re saying is you’re not… really human but are? An alive ghost should just be a normal living creature but that can’t be the case if what you’re saying is true”.
Danhy can’t help glaring a little, “I’m positive it’s true”. If they don’t believe him or doubt everything that comes out of his mouth then this conversation is totally pointless and stupid and he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up at all.
Jack humming, tapping his chin before tilting his head at Danhy, “Where are you feeling all that confusing stuff?”.
“I was told in my core. Which, fine, I have basically no idea what that is”. Did ClockWork explain? Yes. Did that explanation make much sense? No.
They exchange a look, a look Danhy’s not sure if he likes or not. Maddie nodding and staring down at the table, “its something we’ve hypothesised ghosts having as the central part of their being”, her humming again and eyeing Danhy in that scientist way that he definitely doesn’t like; it takes a bit of effort to not shrink away.
Fuck it, Danhy’s calling them on it, he doesn’t want them thinking his okay with that, “don’t stare at me like I’m an experiment”, he cuts himself off from calling her ‘Maddie’ he’s not trying to hurt them. As it is she flinches, giving a quiet, “sorry, Danny”.
Jack looking between Danhy, who’s trying not to come off as angry, and Maddie, who’s glancing down at the table. Eyeing Danhy, “so you’re sure about this, kiddo?”.
Danhy winds up almost growling, okay so the more ghostly stuff about him is definitely more on the surface now or whatever, “yes”. It’s just questioning his parents, his real parents, about this just feels insulting. At least kiddo was fine with him though, it was less ‘your my child’ and more ‘you’re a child’.
Jack gestures a bit stiffly and not really looking at Danhy, “and it’s not from like, being influenced by being close to these ghosts?”. Maddie bitting her lip, “if ghosts were that influential, we’d have bigger problems. This is… still strange though”.
This is not going super great. He kinda doesn’t want to be here anymore. Now they’re talking like he’s not right here.
“It would make more sense for ghosts to steal a human and infect them over time to become ghostly”.
“A ghost fused into a human permanently maybe?”.
No. Danhy’s not dealing with this. Ugh.
“Cannibalism would make more sense than fusion, Jack”.
Nope. He’s out. He did not cannibalise anyone or thing, or fuse, or get corrupted, or whatever else. Pushing himself up.
“Danny?”.
“Danno?”.
Danny stuck his head up the stairs, “you guys can come down and deal with this shit! I’m going for a fucking walk!”. Why did he think this was going to be a good idea in the first fucking place? God damn. Stupid fucking ClockWork for encouraging this shit and his dumbass. He needs to get out.
Sam and Tuck pop their heads out before Jazz does. Tuck quirking an eyebrow at the annoyed to possibly pissed off sorta-halfa, “you good, man?”.
“I just need to not be here for a bit. I need out”.
The two get down lightning quick and basically block Maddie and Jack from trying to stop him. They’re still upset of course but whatever.
“Wait!! Danny why?!”.
Danhy rubbing his temples, “I’m not dealing with this, with you debating me commit freaking cannibalism like I’d ever do that even as a child, what the hell?! My days been weird enough”, and stalks out of the house, slamming the door.
Danhy can see through the window that Jazz has come down the stairs partly, her arms are crossed and she doesn’t look impressed. Him just able to hear Maddie, “it just don’t make any sense, Jazz!”.
…
Yeah okay that didn’t go well. At all. He kinda just wants to go home, the Keep home not FentonWorks. Or maybe he’ll stumble upon Boxy and kick his ass a little bit. Of course as soon as he thinks that, a ghost shows up, it’s just the FrightKnight though.
“I don’t know why you’re putting yourself through this”.
Danhy rolls his eyes at the ghost, not stopping his walking, hands in his pockets, “because I’m not an ass and they do actually deserve to know? Fuck you. They might be a little stupid and bigoted, but I didn’t see your sorry ass looking after baby me”. Granted he wouldn’t have know if the guy had been but Danhy seriously doubts it.
“Daniel”.
Danhy snapping his head to the side at Vlad, “not you too, fuck off. Also that’s not my name, you piss-ant”.
“I’m not the type to change, regardless of a name change”.
“Yeah I figured that, you moron. Wait how do you know that”.
Vlad looks unimpressed, “you know I’ve been bugging your house repeatedly, use your brain for once”.
Okay fine, Danhy should have seen that one coming, “jerk”.
“Know that you have finally succeeded in giving me the worst day of my life. You actually fouled my plan, sweet Maddie isn’t related to my preferred child, I can’t steal a kid from that psycho, you have that what was supposed to mine, and I’m absolutely going to take that out on you”.
Danhy grins, “wow, thanks for actually cheering me up, fruitloop”. Vlad shoots him with an ecto-beam immediately.
The FrightKnight just stands on the sidewalk watching the two sorta rivals beat the shit out of each other. Phantom lets himself get thrown into a wall, like he wants to feel pain which was actually the case a little. Plasmius gets punched in the face and looked a little worried about that.
The FrightKnight is just pleased that Phantom is clearly stronger. He’d been confused and maybe worried about his kings child being so weak, looks like that was for nothing. There’s a small explosion, Phantom doesn’t take any damage; good. Even if the child does get ganged up on by duplicates, he just starts grabbing their feet and smacking them at stuff. Phantom hasn’t even changed forms, almost impressive; not that The FrightKnight is so easily impressed.
“Why are you even trying in that form, boy?”.
“Because I’m not dealing with you mocking me for having a cape now, shut up”. The boy digs in the trash pulls out sauce packets and starts throwing them at Plasmius angrily.
They explode.
Sometimes the FrightKnight believes this town would make good horror material. An entire town happily eating highly explosive sauce was inspired and vaguely insane. At least his majesty would be pleased to hear that one of the first things his son did was torment the one whom was foolish enough to try and steal from the crown high king.
Plasmius does flea after that, in a very annoyed manner. Phantom still attempting to pelt him with things from the ground, the boy setting down a bench he’d debated on throwing; the FrightKnight approaching, “you done”.
“Piss off, oh my Zone”, the boy huffing and glancing around, “I’m surprised no one noticed that shit”, and rolls his shoulders out.
… has he really not noticed? Sigh. This child was going to be the end of him. “This place is your domain, your more direct lair, yours, you didn’t want to be noticed so you were not”.
“That’s worrying”.
The FrightKnight still does not understand this child in the slightest.
By the time Danhy decides to go back to FentonWorks he’s more or less worked through the fact that he apparently unknowingly has control or influence over the town, which Frighty thinks is a good thing, and has decided to just shove it up on that mental shelf he’s got going. That thing was going to give out eventually and it would not be pretty. Oh well. It’s not collapsing right now, is it. Later him’s issue.
Danhy pointing at the ghost, “stay put, seriously”, and grumbling at the ghost seemingly disappearing into Danhy’s shadow, before pushing his way back into the house. He probably looked like shit.
He did look like shit.
Tuck raises an eyebrow, “dude, what the hell kind of walk did you go on?”. Sam shaking her head, “really? Danny?”.
Jack’s looking at him awkwardly while Maddie worries her hands, “you okay, sweetie?”.
Danhy grumbles, “got attacked by a dog, it was a very stupid walk. I’m fine, but possibly more annoyed than before”, meaning: ghost picked a fight. Sam and Tuck sigh at him. Jack and Maddie wincing in unison.
The grown ups exchanging looks before both look back to him, oh Zone, what now? He only came back because he wound up walking into a pole and just gave up on the whole relaxing walk thing. Jack grinning in that nervous but trying to not seem nervous kind of way, “so we’ve decided it doesn’t really matter how you are they way you are, we know you and raised you, you’re you and you’re family”, the smile looking more real, “can I please still call you son?”.
“Oh my Zone, dad! What did I say about that?”, Jazz pops out from the kitchen.
Danhy has no clue what she’s talking about, “Jazz… what did you talk about?”. She looks smug, “just that mom and dad calling you ‘son’ would piss the possessive ghosts off and that would make you sad because you don’t want any fighting, nothing much”.
Danhy should have thought of that himself, damn. Because yeah that wasn’t even a lie, Pariah would fight them… ClockWork maybe not, they seem more the pranking type. Danhy rubbing his neck, “okay, yeah. That’s true”, rubbing his neck, “at least one of them would definitely throw hands, which I think I got them agree to not do just because someone calls me ‘Daniel’”.
Sam nodding at him, crossing her arms at his… uh he still doesn’t have a word and he’s frankly still too annoyed to come up with one. “They renamed him Danhy, with an H”. The goth relaxes at Maddie actually smiling at her over that, “yeah, guess Daniel never really fit”.
Danhy shrugs, “I don’t know if it’s because my, well actual, parents weren’t the ones who gave it to me or not”, and shrugs again, more apologetically this time.
Jack rubs his neck, which Danhy guess is something he picked up from him, “the connection yeah? Speaking of that, if you can sense ghosts, did you sense them and that’s why you went outside the shield? That was very dangerous!”, and laughs a little. Maddie nodding readily, frown at Danhy, “you worried us a lot with that stunt”.
Danny moved to the couch flopping down, Tuck giving him a thumbs up, “well if you’re done being dramatic, which I definitely know where you got that from now, me and Sam should probably check in with our own folks”. Danhy waves them off, “hey, I’ve got nothing on, uh, dad?”. Oh zone yeah Jack looks a little crushed, oof.
Danhy rubbing his neck very awkwardly at that as the door opens and shuts, “sorry? Um, the term really fits him okay and feels, like, super right? Sorry”.
The man pouts, “can I at least be uncle?”.
Damn it. Now Danhy feels like an asshole for something he kinda can’t help. Shit. “Of course! If that’s okay? Father’s kinda too stuffy for me to use for anyone”, tilting his head and looking up at the ceiling, “I guess faðir fits him the same but I think that’s dad in Viking or whatever”. Still weird he knew another language just randomly. Looking back to his.. uncle? Vlad was gonna be pissed. “And yeah they sense differently to me, not that I knew why at the time”. Danhy had thought it was just because both of them were stupidly powerful, far more than any other ghost he’d ever met before. But nope! They were surprise parents!
Jack grins, “it’s not as good as dad, but I’ll take it. And Viking language?”. Maddie nodding, “aunty is okay, I agree it’s not great but it’s better than you calling me ‘Maddie’, mister. Still not impressed you went to check out random ghosts on a whim without telling us, even if I know you’re a curious kid”; somehow that was both fond and scolding. Ugh.
Yeah even Danhy would feel like an ass just using their names to their faces, but the auntie and uncle thing was probably just going to be an ‘around them’ thing. He’s been calling them by their names for years with his friends and as Phantom. “to be fair everything was a little crazy and you guys had a lot on your hands”, eyeing Jack, “and yeah, one of them is a Viking and somehow actually taller than you; which explains why your height has never ever bothered me”.
Jack laughs at that, “true! Even Jazzy has moments being bothered by that! Never you though!”.
Maddie gives Jack a fond look, which Danhy can understand, he pretty much never met people taller than him or people who were used to people that were as tall as him; now he’s got a sorta nephew? who’s just naturally cool with huge ass people. Maddie looking back to Danhy, “I don’t care how ‘busy’ we were, you kids are important”.
Jazz grumbling, “you don’t show it often”, before getting up and moving back towards the kitchen, “I’m going to get tea, considering this was supposed to be a more personal conversation”; Danhy rolls his eyes at her.
Maddie and Jack nodding at her but Jack’s still focuses on Danhy, “though question, why were you unconscious when V-man found you? If you were just, meeting, ugh, ghosts that were basically, uh, family to you?”, and tilts his head.
Shit okay... well Danhy could just be honest again. Because well, he did basically pass out on DarkDaddy’s lap right after the whole establishing a proper connection thing. “Oh, uh, pops kinda put this seal thingy on me to hide me and it broke when I met them again, passed out”, rolling his eyes, “it wasn’t anything bad”. Granted he’d also been exhausted from using that stupid suit and basically fighting an army and mock fighting -even if he didn’t know it was a mock fight at the time- his dad. So like, it definitely wasn’t just the bond, heck it might not have even been that at all. Danhy’s had a fucking day, multiple days.
Maddie blinks, “wait, are both of them guys?”, and shakes her head to herself before talking to him again, “I suppose that’s not too bad then, so long as this bond and broken seal isn’t hurting you”.
Danhy shaking his head immediately, “they are, ones more genderless though. And no, don’t worry about the seal or bind thing-”. Jazz butting in, like he knew she would if she was around for all of this conversation shit, ugh, “outside of the fact that the seal was tramping down on some more ghostly behaviours and appearance”, and gives Danhy a bit of a ‘tell them, idiot’ look. Which fair, again, the more he gets out now the less he’ll have to re-explain himself later. Her comment of course results in them squinting at him, looking for changes.
Danhy isn’t sure if he should be happy or disappointed or annoyed or just amused when it takes them a while to actually comment on a difference. Man, they could be so oblivious. Maddie humming, “your eyes do look a little different”, which she doesn’t sound happy about, “other than that all I can tell is your hair’s messier”. Then Jack goes wide-eyed and is practically vibrating in joy, “you! Have stubble! You’re becoming a man! Yes!”; and does a silly jig. Danhy buries his head in his hands in embarrassment, yes he was happy too but the jig is just too much. Jack wiping a tear from his eye, “I can finally teach my boy how to shave”.
Danhy doesn’t have the heart to even be mad about the ‘my boy’ thing. Besides, Vlad says that shit constantly, so it was a little less annoying somehow... heck Danhy’s pretty sure Lancer’s called him ‘‘my boy’ before?
Jack rounding on him, “you will let me teach you, right?”, and gives Danhy a pouty puppy dog look. Maddie looks like she’s has no clue if that’s a good idea or not.
Does ClockWork know how to? Obviously. Pariah? Maybe? Do either of them ever shave? What no of course not! They’re ghosts. Honestly Danhy probably actually doesn’t need to either, it’ll grow to whatever length it’s supposed to be and then just stop. But, even if he’s still slightly annoyed he’s not going to say no to the man just because he might not need too. Though there’s also the chance that even if he does shave the hair/stubble will just insta grow back. Cool, since no one -Dash- can prank him then. Jazz’s glare also screams ‘say yes or else’. Danhy smiling at his kinda uncle, “I wouldn’t dream of saying no, uh, uncle”; man that was going to take some getting used to. It didn’t come naturally like with his dad and pops. Jack cheers and continues with the jig, Jack teaching him was gonna be so embarrassing, wasn’t it? What has Danhy singed himself up for?
Maddie shakes her head at the man, “I doubt some ghosts would know how”, then eyeing Danhy, “are you… going to stick with considering yourself a ghost?”.
Jazz slipping back further into the kitchen with a sigh, Danhy frowning some, “it’s more of a both thing. I’m still alive, human, obviously. But also, all ghost too”.
Jack glances around, “a new term would be better though right? Like, not ‘ghost’, something else”, trying to sound excited, “we could totally come up with something cool sounding!”.
Oh zone no, sure there was another term for what he was but he was still a ghost. Danhy crossing his arms, “no. I’m a weird ghost but I’m a ghost. I’m not a one hundred percent different freaking species than my parents”. In what world would it not be stupid and mean to reject his actual parents species??? One that he’s definitely part of??? Especially since he knows this shit was just Jack’s goddamn bigotry. Fuck, technically the ghost species had more claim to him than the human one since he was actually related to ghosts and not to humans; even if he did grow up basically human and surrounded by humans. “And I’m absolutely letting them teach me about ghosts, what they think of them”; the ‘and humans’ goes left unsaid but it’s pretty fucking heavily implied. Jack and Maddie look less than pleased, no surprise there; since that obviously meant Danhy was never going to ‘fall in line’ with their bigotry crap. Plus they probably also thought that his parents were going to try and fill his head with anti-living shit; since the two ghost hunters were so sure about ghosts hating and wishing harm on the living and shit.
Maddie frowning, “that’s not a good idea-”.
Danhy scowling, “I don’t care or agree”.
The three of them all just kinda stare at each other for a bit then Jazz shouts, “guys! The casserole is alive! Or dead and walking!”. Danhy wheezing into a hand and losing almost all his tension, as Jack and Maddie run off into the kitchen to wrangle the sentient food.
Danhy getting up to stare at the thing snarling in the net, “remind me again why you guys keep leaving food next to samples?”.
“Convenience! Danny-boy!”. Jack’s cheer is a little forced but it’s still there.
Maddie smiles a little before humming and eyeing Danhy, Jack taking the net away as she gives him an actual answer, “though there did used to be an actual reason”. Jazz looks shocked, “since when!?!”. Maddie waves her off kindly, “I used to experiment with cooking with it, dear”.
“Why?!?”.
Even Danhy makes a face, “I second the why”, sure he can eat ecto, it even tasted pretty good and tingly to him, but still. He wasn’t interested in trying to eat something that could run away from or stab him; and he’s fairly sure you can’t cook with ecto without that happening.
She frowns a little, a bit awkward, “because of you actually, which in retrospect should have been a little more concerning”.
Great now they’re confusing him too, “oh?”. Why were they trying to cook him ecto food, like yes they fed him just plain ecto more than once but how was food cooked with ecto any better of an ‘experiment’. Jazz still looks baffled and annoyed.
Maddie hums, “when we first brought you home you constantly kept getting into the samples and consuming them”. Jack popping back in, “oh yeah I remember that! You made a lot of messes, a very messy baby”. It is goddamn impossible not to blush at that, this is not what he wants to hear about. Jack continuing, “we just figured you got, like, super contaminated from being spirited away that you were addicted, like a crack baby or something”.
Jazz face palms, “guys, ectoplasm crack baby is a completely insane thesis. Completely. Insane”. Danhy sticking up a finger, “Jazz, that’s probably legit though. Like it makes sense, I probably need the ecto”. He was literally a full ghost, although maybe the full human thing cancelled that shit out? Fuck if he knows and Clockpops would definitely not give him a straight answer purely to be confusing. Would also more explain sticking a sorta ghost with freaking ghost hunters. Blinking and looking at Maddie, “so making me eating and gargling ectoplasm and sh-stuff wasn’t just you guys being kinda immoral scientists?”.
Jack rubs his neck, “I mean, we were definitely curious what would happen?”.
“That is stupid, full offence”, shaking his head a little, “no wonder that whole weird ecto-contamination thing was so easily accepted, geez”.
Maddie ruffles his hair stiffly some, which he glares at her hand over, especially cause she almost seemed like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to touch him at all; he absolutely noticed her glancing between her gloves and his hair. Maddie nodding, “it wasn’t really surprising a massive dose of ectoplasm would make the way you were already, worse”, frowning and humming, “now I’m not so sure. And your hair is definitely different”.
“It’s fine. I’m fine; that basically just weakened the seal some”, shrugging, “and like with that whole contamination thing, I’m basically just being open with this whole child of ghosts thing. You know, at school and stuff”. Danhy can’t be assed to try and keep yet another secret, especially when not keeping this one could help him keep the far more important one. That whole ‘weird ecto-contamination’ was only going to go so damn far. Being weird, creepy, eye fashes, and whatnot could apparently be shrugged off, but inhuman strength and like actually looking more ghost-like was pushing it.
Maddie nodding, “if that’s what you want, Danny. Even if I don’t really like you… ‘owning’ this ghost idea”, shaking her head a little, “we’re going to get some strange calls then”.
She clearly still didn’t buy him seeing himself as a ghost, but there was legit no point fighting her on it. “So same ol’ same ol’?”.
Jack laughs loudly, smacking Danhy on the back, which he doesn’t nearly fall over from, “true!”... “so feel like trying to shave?”.
Danhy snorts, figures, “sure, uncle, sure”; he ignores the slight hurt look with Jack basically pulling him up strairs.
Is Danny surprised they never asked to ‘met’ his actual parents? Zone no. They were ghosts, of course they didn’t want to play friendly with them. That was probably for the best though, since both of his parents were a bit much and Jack and Maddie definitely will remember Pariah, considering what just happened.
Maddie shakes her head, frowning a little as the two boys disappear into the bathroom. Jazz walking up next to her, “if you guys mess this up I’m going to be pissed”.
“I know. It’ll just be, a bit hard”.
“Of course, but you can work through it. Let him be accepting of himself even if you don’t agree, or else. And if the ghosts mess up, we’ll beat the zone out of them, I’ll get the creep stick”.
“Absolutely, honey”. Jazz nodding and moving to go check on the two boys. Maddie frowning after a bit, “those ghosts… they’re going to completely corrupt him, aren’t they?”, and sighs, “all I can do is try to minimise the damage”.
Danhy does stay the night at FentonWorks, he was pretty positive that if he didn’t it would completely destroy whatever relationship he had with Jack and Maddie; even if he absolutely was paranoid they’d do something in his sleep. Though with it feeling like Frighty definitely was still chilling in his shadow he wasn’t really worried, weird that the ghost could do that but that’s probably what made him acceptable as a guard or whatever.
Either way breakfast is awkward. Danhy’d bet money there’s ectoplasm in his morning cereal, which Maddie made for him for the first time in a while; he already knows his bet’s a winner since he can fucking taste it… it is a very good thing he actually likes ecto, damn. Jack’s reading the paper, Jazz has already run off to help some teacher set some whatever up, and Maddie’s staring at her coffee. Like he said, awkward. If he was at the Keep dad would probably be looming over him still adjusting to the fact that Danhy’s not dead dead, and pops would be pretending to answer Danhy’s question by giving non-answers; maybe they’d both be working, which is probably what they’re doing now. Is it wrong of him to rather be there than here? And not just because there physically felt like home in a ghostly way.
… Maybe Maddie’s waiting to see if he’ll comment on the ectoplasm? Or maybe trying to work up the balls to ask him if he preferred it with ecto or not? That was probably being a little hopeful of him, it was more likely that she just didn’t know what to say to the literal ghost in the room. Swallowing more cereal, “so”. Maddie jerks. “Any problems with me going to school today?”. If she wants him to stay home for ‘tests’ then he’s fucking done. He’s leaving and not coming back.
She breathes a little before shaking her head and giving him a sorta smile, “no. You seem fine and still don’t really look different”. Jack looking away from the paper to give Danhy a bit of a shove, “you’re not getting out of school that easy, Danno”. Danhy pouting, pretending that was why he asked that. Jack chuckles at him, while Danhy goes about finishing his cereal.
Danhy’s not really surprised when they basically push him out the front door with very firm ‘stay in school’s, which fine he’s earned but still. Ugh. Eyeing his bedroom window from the street… he doesn’t really trust them to just do their usual, to leave his room and whatnot alone. Humming to himself, glancing at his shadow, “can I totally have someone or something keep watch here in case they do something fucking dumb?”.
The rumbled, “of course, my prince”, isn’t even remotely surprising. The little purple fire bats disappearing into his bedroom window isn’t quite what Danhy was going for but guesses he couldn’t get rid of his little babysitter that easily. “They are fools if they dare do wrong by you. Mortal’s are horribly ill-informed”.
Danhy shrugging as he begins his walk, that becomes a fly as soon as he’s out of sight of FentonWorks, “I know. It’s a pain but whatever. And I guess I get the joy of being the ghost royal, still weird, with contact and influence and shit here”.
The FrightKnight takes a bit to respond, “I suppose there’s some added power in such a thing. Power you should prove, your subjects should kneel, use your fangs on those who don’t deserve your grace”.
Danhy stomps on his shadow as he lands by the school, even if that probably did nothing to the jerk ghost, “I’m not a killer, you dick. Dad might have gone all mass murder genocide shit but I’m not him”.
… “Ancient ClockWork has ended far more, entire timelines of existence”.
Okay Danhy’s not sure what to make of that one. “And I’m not them either, wow”. Congrats self! Your lineage is super fucking murdery! Yay! Another thing for the mental self! Those Observant guys were probably worried their kid would be like them or something, or just hated the idea of a prince, or the alive and dead thing, or were just assholes. Or option D: All of the above!
Is Danhy gonna have to watch himself for murdery desires? Cool. Great. Not loving that thought. Might be part of why he’s such a combative motherfucker though, he liked shit kicking and liked getting shit kicked to a degree.
A huntress frowns at Danhy’s bedroom door, walking in, “I need to at least know how strong these ghosts are, where they are, if we can deal with them”; and begins moving to shove little tracker beads in his shoes.
“I wouldn’t do that, if you want to keep any connection to him”.
She jumps, whirling towards Danhy’s bed, tensing, “how did you get here, ghost”, frowning, “what did you do to the security system”. Neither are questions.
“Ghost. God. Not so separate things. Security that works today once did not exist to function at all. The security right now is that of yesteryears. I can be anywhere, any-when, I desire to be”, a clock-themed ghost seems to clean their staff, barely paying any mind to the huntress.
The huntress balls her fist, “you’re one of the ones claiming to be related to him, aren’t you”.
“Hmmm. Reality and claims aren’t the same thing, I reside within the former alone. Whereas all you have in your grasp is claims”.
“Why did you leave him to us”.
“I desire not to see my child bleeding out in front of me. He is yet mortal, forgive me if I am well too aware how fragile mortals are sometimes. I am fine being the Prometheus to the Observants standing as a version of Zeus, but I have no tolerance for their punishments; I reject death, in the true sense, as his fate”.
“And his… other parent?”.
“The representation of death itself has no reason to allow a death that is unwelcome. Whether by his own choice, or another’s choice for him and in his place”.
A few small bats of purple flames squeaking from a corner of the room, blinking glowing red eyes at the huntress as she slowly turns her head to look to the sound.
“I’d take your creations with you when you leave, before smaller hands grab them up to show off your betrayal to younger minds”.
Danhy shoving the school doors open, waving at Sam and Tuck immediately.
Tuck grinning, “dude, I’m shocked they didn’t try to keep you home!”.
Danhy laughing, “same! Anyway wanna watch me freak Lance out? I figured I should be nice and give him a heads up”.
Sam rolling her eyes, “by ‘nice’, you mean terrorise him personally”. Danhy grins devilishly. “Really doing your parents proud, there”.
The FrughrKnoghr adding his two cents, “he should be feared”.
“Dude, if you talk my ear off all day I’m gonna lose my shit”.
Sam and Tuck snapping their heads down to Danhy’s feet. Tuck blinking, “bring your ghost to school day?”. Sam smirking, “we should make that an actual thing”.
“Sam that is a terrible idea, oh my zone”, Danhy shakes his head but starts walking off to Lancer’s little office. All three of them sticking their heads inside, Lancer spotting them and quirking an eyebrow.
Sam and Tuck gesturing ridiculously at Danhy, “we present to you the problem child, turns out he was born in another dimension, have fun”; they promptly ditch his ass, jerks.
Lancer looks very worried, Danhy facepalming, groaning, “guuuuuys, you dicks”.
“Language, Daniel, but yes, that was very confusing”.
Danhy’s shadow/the FrightKnight scoffs. At least he doesn’t try ‘to smite’ his teacher. Danhy holding up a finger, “okay first, my name is actually not Daniel and second, I’m adopted”.
Lancer sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “do you have proof, Daniel, because name changes are a legal issue and will need to be updated in the school files if you’re actually being serious”.
Oh shit, yeah. Wait, did Jack and Maddie even legally adopt him at all???? It really doesn’t sound like it. “I was apparently found in a random forest, I might not actually have been adopted legally, I didn’t think to ask”.
“You… didn’t think to ask?”; Lance looks very disappointed in him and reaches for the phone, “I’m calling home”.
Danhy shrugging and just moving to sit down in a chair, his first class was home ec anyways which he was banned from cooking in due to incidences with sentient food. “That’s fair. The other dimension thing was not a joke, by the by”.
Lance’s less than impressed, but doesn’t get to respond as Maddie’s picked up, “Danny told you?”.
Lancer’s sigh is tired, “so I’m not being pranked”, eyeing Danhy, “I know you and your ways”. Danhy whistles, playing at being a sweet innocent angel. Lancer returning his attention to the phone, “though he doesn’t seem to know if he has legal proof”.
Things being up to legal human standards wasn’t exactly where his focus was, okay? He had other shit to think about and deal with. At least his ghost ears made it easy to hear Maddie.
“We… don’t actually have legal papers for him”.
Lancer blinks, “what”.
Oh wow, Danhy should have figured this. When had they ever been fully law following? They drove a modified mini military vehicle for fucks sake; he’s pretty sure they didn’t get that legally either.
“He is telling the truth, though. Even if I don’t know what in all he has told you. We hadn’t intended to adopt some ghosts child but apparently we’ve missed a few things with our general research”.
She… totally doesn’t realise he can hear her, does she? At least she sounds more awkward and concerned than scientific or cold.
Lancer puts his head in his hand, sighing loudly, “alright, I’ll let you go then”.
“Oh no problem, Mr. Lancer. It’s better he explains things anyways”.
Lancer stares at the phone for a beat when she hangs up, looking at Danhy, “are things alright with them?”.
Danhy shrugs awkwardly, “it’s weird, I guess”.
Lancer frowns at that, “and this ‘different’ dimension is where all the ghosts are from? The ghost zone?”; him leaning forward on his elbows.
Danhy rubs his neck, “got it in one”, shrugging, “my, you know, actual parents showed up during that invasion thing. I am apparently a human ghost, do not question it, it’s weird and according to them an ‘affront to nature’ and ‘defiling life’, which was kinda the goal”.
… “your parents called you an affront to nature?”.
“I have really weird luck with parental figures”. Or attempted parental figures, in Vlad’s case.
Lancer sighs yet again, “alright. I’m to assume this, and not the ecto-contamination, is why you’re a bit different from your peers?”.
“It’s kinda impossible for a ghost to have ecto-contamination, Lance. So yeah. Pretty much. I’m still, like, alive though. Hence the defiling life thing”.
Lancer rubs his temples, whispering to himself, “my favourite student is a paradox, figures”, then looking up at Danhy, “and that won’t be a problem? For you, here or at home? What’s going on with your living situation? I’ll be very sad if you’re pulling out of schooling”.
Danhy holds up his hands, “no, no, I might not love school but I plan to see it through, no worries. So long as the government doesn’t try to, like, abduct me or something”. Oh Danhy hasn’t even remotely mentally addressed that shit. He probably maybe doesn’t have human rights in any shape, way, or form now. Especially if he was not even legally a citizen, what the Hell. Blinking, “you know, I’m probably an illegal Immigrant. Should probably do something about that”.
Lancer’s looking at him like he’s giving the guy an aneurism, “I’m sure I could help with that if need be”.
“Lance, I’m pretty sure there is no way for someone from another realm to get legal citizenship anywhere”. Either Jack and Maddie or him will have to go commit crimes; unless they did actually have citizenship for him… and maybe forged birth records. “They probably do have papers for me, just forged ones”.
Lancer nods acceptingly, tired, but accepting, “and how are they being at home?”.
Lance ain’t gonna drop that, is he? Eh, understandable. “Um, we kinda agreed they’re more aunt and uncle now, ‘cause my parents are definitely my parents. Weird ghost connection thing, don’t ask. And I have no clue with the ‘living situation’ thing”, and shrugs. Like he absolutely wasn’t leaving Amity but he also definitely was going to be at the Keep a lot of the time, he can’t just not stay at FentonWorks either though. Ugh.
“Well as much as I believe a child should live with their parents, I do not believe that would be in your best interests, at least not permanent residence there. Especially as I doubt the school could send your report cards to another realm, physically or online. I also don’t feel comfortable listing a ghost or ghosts as your emergency contacts”. Okay that would be a horrible nightmare, calling in a freaking warlord god king or literal time god because Danhy started another food fight, would not go over well with anyone. Lancer continuing, “now, are you going to need any accommodations? Whether because of home environment or species?”.
Okay, Lancer is baffling him a little with how okay he is with this shit. “You are weirdly good at taking things in stride, you know that right?”, Danhy shaking his head at the smile, “I don’t think so? I’ve always been weird so. Just maybe change my name on the records, my parents really don’t like anyone calling me by a name that they didn’t give me or I didn’t give myself or whatever. Nicknames and shit”.
Lancer nodding and writing that down, “what should it be changed to?”.
“What? Oh, uh, Danhy with an h; it’s Norse. Dad’s a Viking I think”.
“It’s good that’s similar, easier adjustment. One that will still take time of course”.
“Yeah I expected that, I did tell him not to smite you or whatever”.
“That’s… appreciated, Danie-Danhy. Are you remaining a Fenton, though?”.
Now that Danhy’s really not sure about. Obviously he has to have a last name ‘as a human’, but calling himself Danhy Fenton felt a little insulting towards his own actual parents. Sure he was still ‘a Fenton’ cause that was more a ‘part of the family’ thing; like Sam and Tuck were ‘honorary Fenton’s’. “I have no idea”.
Lancer nods, “no pressure, I doubt the system will let you not have a last name though. I’ll look into it, your parents aren’t going to assault anyone for using it?”.
“Maybe”. Danhy’s barely resisting snickering at that, was that a little mean? Yes. “My sorta body guard will probably glare at them though”.
“Body guard?”.
Danhy pointing down at his shadow, at least all Frighty does is makes his eyes visible. Lancer jerking a little, going wide-eyed, “is there a ghost in your shadow”; he looks very done with Danhy.
Danhy giving a cheery, “yup!”, then standing up and stretching, “some ghosts were trying to murder me as a baby, hence why I wound in a forest in this realm, or whatever. And pops might have not told dad I wasn’t dead dead, so a little over protective now”.
Lancer shakes his head disbelievingly, “I suppose I can understand that”, eyeing Danhy’s shadow, “is the ghost going to behave itself?”.
“Hopefully?”, Danhy looks down at his shadow/The FrightKnight, “be a good doggie”. He can absolutely feel the glare and scowl.
Lancer actually smiles a little at that before shooing Danhy off, “you have classes to go to, are you alright with me informing your other teachers of this?”.
Danhy gives him a thumbs up as he heads out the door, “that’s kinda the point, I can’t be arsed to keep this to myself”.
“Language”.
Has Danhy missed all of his home ec class? Of course, sure he could maybe hit up the last few minutes but naw; why bother. Instead he’s just gonna be lazy and wander off to math, even if that was a stupid subject. Basically no one was going to use that shit outside of class. In fact Danhy’s so lazy about it that he actually winds up late, because of course.
Ms. Emily sighing at him, pointing to his desk without even bothering to give him shit. Danhy shakes his head though, this class has, like half, of the A-listers so it was perfect for the gossip mill. “Naw, I have a speech to give”.
Todd snorting, “if it’s an apology on behalf of your parents, shove it”.
“Todd”.
Todd rolls his eyes at her.
Danhy waves a hand around, “kinda, different parents though”. Nice. Now he’s got everyone’s confused attention, pointing at Dash, “turns out I’m adopted, I’m not a Fenton, my parents are ghosts. I am still alive, don’t worry. I am also dead, so worry. That is all”, and Danhy sits his ass down, smirking the whole time; the teacher is glaring at him.
Dash spins around in his chair, glaring at Danhy, “well what’s your actual last name if you’re not a Fenton?”.
Danhy rolling his eyes, “of course that’s what you care about. Ghosts don’t have last names, Dash”. Sure Ember did but that was kinda all that he knew of… well Pariah did have the whole ‘dark’ thing, which might? be a last name? maybe?
“I need something to work with, Fen-“, Dash cutting himself off then gesturing wildly at Danhy.
Then someone finally actually shouts at him, “what the hell! What do you even mean?!”. Which opens the floodgates apparently.
“Are you trying to say you’re a ghost?”.
“Of course the Fenton’s would steal a ghosts child! wait! Ghosts can have kids?!?!”.
“It sounded more like being that box cat thing?”.
“No wonder you’re a weirdo! Ha!”.
“What is YOUR LAST NAME!”.
“How the hell was that an apology from any parents?”.
“So just how wrong are the Fenton’s about ghosts?”.
“Is this why you have that dangerous aura around you!”.
“Are you leaving Amity for death land then?”.
“Is Jazz stolen from ghosts too then? Do the Fentons’s even have actual kids?!?”.
“Are your parents as pathetic as you?”.
“Everyone quiet down”, Ms. Emily standing up, “I have a class to teach, save this for after class”, sighing, “you know what you did, Danny, but for once I’ll let you off the hook”.
Danhy snorting, speaking very sarcastically, “gEe, ThAnKs. HoW vErY nIcE oF yOu”. Danhy standing up, “but I have the masses to appease”, looking at everyone before she can kick him out, “one, I mean what I mean. I’m ghost, hence the dead aura, and living person and my parents are ghosts and while my adoption has no legal standing or whatever at least one of my actual parents approved it”, shrugging, “sure the other never knew and may have gone into a murderous fit of rage thinking I’d been offed, but eh. And no, you’re not getting rid of me that easily”, holding up a finger, “Jazz is their, the Fenton’s, bio kid though”.
Dash is not done with him apparently, “does she still call your brother or can I finally get with that?”.
Danhy gapes at him, what the fuck dude. Ew! “You said the quiet part out loud, what the Hell Dash”.
“I said what I said, loser. She hot”.
“Oh my Zone! Ew!”, Danhy shakes his head, “no. I’m still her brother, keep your hands to yourself, I will hit you with a baseball bat too”.
“I’d like to see you try!”.
James muttering, “what does he mean ‘too’?”.
“Do not temp me, I also can and will sic a ghost on you”; if Danhy’s going to have Frighty harass anyone, it’s gonna be Dash. “And dude, I think ‘Dark’ might be a last name but don’t quote me, you idiot”.
“Whatever, Darkie. Ha! Guess I know why your friends with a goth weirdo now”.
Danhy stares at him, Casey hits Dash with a pencil for him though, “that is a slur!”. Danhy facepalms, “if you want to get kicked off of the football team, go right ahead, Dash”.
“I did not know that!”, Dash makes a few faces, “dank? Dunk? Daftpunk?”, he scowls, “Fenton is a better last name”.
“I’m not sticking to Fenton just because you find it easier to make up insulting names with!”.
“Whatever, Darkside”.
Danhy blinks, wasn’t Darkside, like, a tyrannical god king? That was trying to eliminate hope and free will? Sure at least his dad had, like, a legit reason, but still. “Dash, my dad kinda is a real life Darkside; that’s more accurate family descriptor than insult”.
Todd snorting, “so that’s what you meant by ‘went a little murdery’”.
Ah fuck it, whatever. Shrugging, “I mean, he did just abduct the entire town so, yeah”.
“Is that why we all just suddenly were back in our world?!? Because he found his damn kid!”.
“How do you cause so many problems!”.
“Your dad is giant?!?”.
“Didn’t he have a fucking skeleton army?”.
“How are both your dads massive men!”.
“Did the town get abducted because you’re here? Or was that just a really suspicious coincidence?”.
Ms. Emily snapping, “that’s enough!”, pointing at Danhy, “you! Out!”.
Danhy puts up his hands in surrender, “the people want what they, and they don’t want math, Ms. Emily. That’s hardly my fault”, moving towards the door as she points to it, him looking at everyone though, “he wasn’t here because of me but he did leave because of me!”; and slips outside.
Nice.
No math class for him.
Danhy chuckling to himself, “well that was fun”; he hadn’t really meant to reveal his dad was the guy that just abducted them but that ‘Darkside’ comment was just too good to resist. Should he just start popping into random classroom doing that? He’ll definitely get detention doing that shit. Doesn’t stop him from being tempted though.
Then Kwan pops out of a classroom, a teacher clearly yelling at him, “sit back down!”. Kwan looking right at Danhy, “is your dad a warlord ghost! Dude that is awesome! Why are you so small then!”.
Danhy blinks at the guy before laughing, smooth Dash, smooth. Danhy giving a thumbs up, “yup! And shut up, I just haven’t hit a grow spurt yet, you jerk”. Kwan laughs but gets knocked over by pretty much a whole class crowding the doorway.
“Did I hear that right?!?”.
“Way to get weirder! Holy shit!”.
“If your parents are ghosts how old are they!”.
“Isn’t time weird in the zone? Or something? How old are you?”.
“How the hell are you alive if you’re dead!”.
“How do ghosts have babies?”.
“Did ghosts intentionally have a freaking human child? Who does that!”.
“Is your dad gonna try and enslave us again?!?”.
“Wait if your dad’s a war lord then what the hell is your mom!”.
“How pissed are the Fenton’s!”.
“Are they gonna fight these ghosts!”.
“Why are you even still here if you’re a ghost!”.
Oh wow this is hilarious, all the shouting is basically melding into one mess of noise. Danhy kinda doesn’t want to deal with it actually; it was like getting fan girl mobbed as Phantom… putting up his hands, “heh”, chuckling, “I’m not a ghost, I’m alive. I’m not alive, I’m a ghost. I didn’t ask how they had a child! Ew! And one of them might be older than humanity, maybe”, smirking at Kyle, “and no mom, other be genderless, fuck the gender spectrum”.
Kyle cheers, “wooo! Hell yeah!”. While their teacher hurls an eraser out of the doorway at Danhy, “sit! Back! Down! And you! LEAVE! You menace!”.
some of the teens scurry back as they’re told, Danhy standing on his tippy toes to eye the pissed teacher, “you know that’s probably bigoted to say to me, considering what gets shouted at ghosts all the time”. Basically half the class turns on the teacher shouting, “yeah!”. But the teacher stomps over to the door, gets the remaining teens in and slams the door hard.
The FrightKnight hums from Danhy’s shadow, “seems you’re more a ghost than I may have previously believed”.
“Is that how you’re gonna try saying you thought I didn’t having an ounce of fearsomeness in my body?”.
“You summoned me to help your pathetic attempt at a haunted house…”.
Okay that was fair, “hey, I don’t do terror well but I do do confusion and chaos well. There’s a reason I’m banned from cooking, carrying fragile shit, having both lunch meat and batteries on me, bringing Nasty sauce to school, or putting my personal coffee in the teachers lounge; which to be fair to that last one, someone did almost die”.
The FrightKnight actually seems impressed, meaning Danhy as his Danhy self has impressed the ghost of fear itself somehow. Cool? Cool. Then one of the seniors on a spare walks over, sticks a sticker to his shoulder with a, “you are now the Casperhigh ghost mascot”, and walks away. Leaving Danhy blinking, looking at the sticker, it’s a toast cat, then wheeze laughing, “my point stands, oh wow!”.
Then the bell rings, apparently he was right outside Sam’s class now. Her looking at him with his hands on his knees wiping away a tear, “what did you do?”.
Danhy snickering, “got a sticker”, and pushes himself to stand up straight, “got kicked out of class, and a second class that I was never actually in”.
“So you told everyone, huh”.
“Yup”.
“Dumbass”.
Danhy shrugs as they head to his and her next class, “eh, it’ll cover any weird ghost shit about me. Especially if more of it crops up”.
“Like the eyes?”.
“Like the eyes”; he’d almost been tempted to steal some of Jazz's or Sam’s concealer but fuck that, he’s owning his actual parents genetics. At least Maddie noticing that meant it was the most noticeable thing… until he gets actual facial hair instead of just tiny now shaved off stubble. Or until hits a sudden and probably ridiculous growth spurt; he’s seriously hoping he doesn’t wind up super super tall. Even when he believed Jack was his dad he didn’t want that height, Pariah was worse. At least ClockWork was barely taller than Danhy now… depending on form.
Her nodding as they get in to their seats, “yeah, it’s more noticeable in the crap school lights than your room. Legit eyeliner”.
“Hey there’s a reason I nicknamed it evil eyeliner, which I still don’t have a new word for”.
She smacks him, “stick with it! Show your evil side! You dad is definitely evil”.
“What no, he was just, having issues, being a little funky guy”.
“Is that what you call mass murder these days?”.
Danhy pouts at her, she rolls her eyes; but everyone else is coming in now so…
1.
2..
3…
4….
“I thought you were dead!”.
And there it is… wait what? “I’m a ghost and alive! Who told you I was dead or dead dead!? Double dead? Dead squared? Death double down? The big flop part two?”.
“Why do you even look human? Do your parents look human?”.
“Are you going to bring your parents to school?”.
“Where are you even living?”.
“How do you survive without ectoplasm?”.
“If I die can you turn me into a ghost?”.
“How many wars makes a ghost a war lord?”.
“By war lord is he, like, royalty?”.
“What is wrong with your life?”.
“This should have been a school assembly!”.
“So that ecto-contamination thing was bullshit huh?”.
“If ghosts can make babies with ghosts can they make babies with humans?”.
“Are you a contamination?”.
Danhy is having mild regrets; Clockpops is probably laughing at him right now. Danhy shouting, “I can’t answer half that shit!”, throwing his hands up, “all of y’all just make a questionnaire, bitches loves questionnaires, bitches like me!”.
Jesse pouts, “your fault for being weird”, sticking up a finger and looking at the others, “but I thought everyone knew Danhy ate ectoplasm? Like the Fenton’s fed it to him?”.
“What!”.
“Oh that’s nasty!”.
“Oh right I forgot about that, too weird”.
“So he hasn’t been surviving without ectoplasm?”.
Danhy huffs crossing his arms, “considering they put some in my breakfast this morning, no I haven’t been. Apparently I used to raid their samples as a little kid, they thought I was an ecto crack baby instead of a ghost”.
“That is completely insane”.
“I thought the Fenton’s were supposed to be smart!”.
“It’s not really wrong though…”.
“So instead of ‘oh hey! Human looking ghost baby!’ They went ‘ECTO CRACK’?”.
Danhy shrugs, “to be fair, I am alive. That’s basically the opposite of being a ghost, not guessing ‘ghost baby’ is normal”.
“Aka you’re a fucking weirdo”.
Lancer comes in and sighs at everything, “Danhy, the next time you want to relay mind breaking news to the entire student body, we’re having an assembly”.
Danhy tilting his head with a smirk, “getting complaints?”.
“Many. But I am still holding class today, leave your questions for the boy till lunch”.
But Danhy’s smirk only grows, “is this when I should mention that my dad is definitely royalty? And my pops is a god?”. Even Sam smacks him as the room erupts into incoherent shouts. Lancer massages his temples with feeling. Danny’s tempted to shout ‘hail Satan’ just to make the chaos a little worse.
…
He absolutely does get multiple questionnaires at lunch. Zone, he’s pretty sure one was from the damn janitor… since the only question on it was if Danhy was the one leaving ecto-bio-hazard messes and if he was going to keep doing that. Okay so maybe Danhy wasn’t the best at not getting his red green blood on things. Oops. At least it was unsurprising that the most common question was ‘are you dead?’, which was also the most confusing one to give an answer too since the answer was BOTH… the jury’s out on that one… yes and no… you decide for yourself… debatable… a drawing of a box with an arrow pointing to it attached to the word ‘cat’.
Lancer actually set up a google survey for him to fill out and just mass send the responses out. Cool, less effort for Danhy.
Lancer shakes his head at his computer, scrolling through the pages of a very peculiar survey. “That boy, this is absurd”.
Did your dad abduct the town? Yes, but like he had reasons. Wouldn’t you be upset at the world if you thought some gods went and offed your kid??
Is your dad royalty? Tots.
Did you say you’re other dad’s a god? Yup. Time daddy. Chronos. They hit me for calling them that so you suck.
You have two dads? Eh? Ones more genderless.
Are you a contaminate like ghosts are? I am a ghost. Obviously
Are you human? Yes, no, maybe so
Are you a ghost? Yes, no, maybe so
Are you royalty? Yes, no, maybe so
Are you a god? Yes, no, maybe so
Do you eat ectoplasm? Not intentionally, meaning yes.
Are the Fenton’s still your parents? No. Aunty and uncle.
Are you moving to the ghost zone? No, I call visitation rights and frequent flyer points though.
How were you born? Ew.
Were you born in the ghost zone? obviously.
Did the Fenton’s steal you? Surprisingly no
Are you illegal? Yes, no, maybe so
Why don’t you look like a ghost? I do though, y’all just don’t notice. I’m also, like, young and shit
How do ghosts have babies? EW.
Are you sure Jazz is still your sister? YES DASH I KNOW THIS WAS YOU
Are you going to take over the town in your dad’s place now? NO! Besides, he already thinks I have apparently. I did not correct him.
Is this why you feel like a dangerous threat? Yes, no, maybe so
Are you the one leaving red green blood all over the place? Sorry
Why do you look human? Because I am?
And on and on it went. Lancer sighing, “some of this is far too invasive, at least mine got answered”.
Are you okay? As I ever am, so yeah.
“School is going to be incredibly interesting and painful for the next while”, shaking his head, “and I’ve gotten three reports of him breaking things, again”.
Chap. 5: Show Me To My Wonderland
Prompts:
Pariah doesn't really believe in second chances so much as believe he's still on his first one if you twist the entire situation around enough
Danny finds out he's adopted. It goes surprisingly well.:
Danny is Clockwork's and Pariah Dark's son, but when Clockwork was attacked by the Observants, he sent a newborn Danny to a random time in the future to keep him safe. His disappearance triggered Pariah Dark's madness. Centuries later, Danny is found by the Fentons. When Danny fights Pariah Dark, he immediately recognizes his Son.
Clockwork time-fight. That's the whole prompt, I just want to see clockwork being badass in a fight. It can be against someone else with time powers, or not! go nuts.
Vlad is having the worst day ever.
Ghosts have this aura around them, something that makes the human hindbrain say /danger/, gets a heartbeat racing, makes gooseflesh rise on the skin; But of course this is normal for dead things. So why does it happen to anyone around Danny Fenton?
#danny phantom#phandom#phic phight#phicphight24#phic phight 24#danny fenton#tucker foley#sam manson#pariah dark#clockwork#maddie#jack#vlad#phantomphangphucker#have a fic suck my dick#my writing#phan phic#fan fic#adoption#ghost prince danny phantom#Dark ages#clockwork x pariah dark#valerie gray#jazz fenton
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hello my friends, and congrats on making it to yet another wednesday. oh how the time simply flies, huh?
a quick status update over here: things are still pretty nuts with family stuff, so as i said over the weekend, if you've sent me a flash fiction prompt i haven't gotten to yet, i promise i haven't forgotten! <3 most of my energy's been going elsewhere lately, what can you do.
my big goals for the near future are still (1) to finish the tale(s) of the champion, (2) to finish of mummy men & bathtub soup, and (3) to get another chapter of like wringing blood from a stone out, but i've learned my lesson and will not be making guesses as to timeframes there, hehehehe. if you're looking for a sneak peek or two to tide you over in the meantime, i'm including snippets from tales, wringing, and a SECRET MYSTERY PROJECT under the cut.
as always, hope you're hanging in there, and hope you're taking care of yourself as best you can, whatever that looks like for you <333
the tale(s) of the champion
“I’m not proud of my time in Kirkwall, Inquisitor,” Cullen said sharply, an answer to an accusation she hadn’t raised. “All I did then, I did to fulfill the duty expected of me, but even so there are things I said, things I did, things…” The muscles of his jaw clenched and unclenched over his working throat. “…things allowed to happen under my watch, which I regret so thoroughly as to know they will follow me well into my grave. But the actions I’ve taken against Hawke and her cohort—ordered or otherwise? No.” A brisk shake of his head. “Those I do not regret in the slightest.”
It was times like these, times where the tension crackled like ozone before a storm, that made her worry for the whole of the Inquisition. For Thedas, really. There she was, meant to be their benevolent leader, even-tempered and understanding, and instead of backing away with arms raised to allow the situation to defuse, she ground her boot that much harder into the softer bits offered up to her, hoping to wring out as much blood as she could before the wound scabbed over.
It was times like these that she worried the Chantry was right, that she’d never be accepted as the voice of the people, as a protector and guide; maybe she’d always be who she’d been before the Conclave…no matter how brightly her armor shone.
“You make her sound like a monster.”
Cullen scoffed. “A criminal.”
“Is there a difference?”
like wringing blood from a stone
A branch snapped behind him.
And something let out a deep, growling breath.
Bobby didn’t whip himself around. Everybody else could say and think what they wanted, but he wasn’t any fucking moron—you didn’t make sudden moves when you were being tracked. Hunted. He knew that same as he knew his own name.
What he did instead was jam as much of his weight as he could against the door, grimacing with effort when his shoulder made contact. Inside, he heard Mom scream.
“Don’t you let him in here, Jed!”
“No one’s gettin’ in.”
“DON’T YOU LET HIM IN THIS GODDAMN HO—”
He didn’t wait to hear her finish the sentence. Nah, he hauled back and kicked the door with every ounce of force he could muster. But even though he did it the same way he’d seen Uncle Jack do a million times before, it didn’t budge.
Mom just screamed again.
The sound made his skin stand up, not like goosebumps or shivers, more like the hot, stinging welts you got from snapping a rubber band or touching poison oak. It was a sickish feeling, making his palms sweat and his vision double. He didn’t know if he wanted to puke, scream, dig his fingers into his own skin…or maybe just curl up there on the porch and cry until he couldn’t anymore. In the end, he split the difference.
SUPER SECRET MYSTERY PROJECT WOOoOoOoOoOO
Her breath hitched as she saw a sliver of moonlight ahead. Emily pushed away the horrible, impossible, image of Beth’s rotting face and surged forward the last few meters to the doors. She slid between them before slamming them shut, her hands chapping in the cold even as she yanked the latching bar down into place. The doors rocked under her palms, and the thing she’d locked inside shrieked in fury as obvious as it was alien. She could feel it beat against the doors with fists the size of her head, felt it fight to get to her, but no matter how the doors shook on their hinges, the latch held.
Her body slumped as her exhaustion caught up with her. A breath tore out of her in a shaking, ragged sob…or maybe it was a laugh. From where she stood, it was impossible to tell.
And then something grabbed her.
Too tired to fight, too tired to run, too tired to do so much as gasp in surprise, Emily found herself yanked away from the doors and around a bend, her point of view torn suddenly from the mine’s processing facility to the trees. That wasn’t the most worrying part, though.
That was the hand.
It came to her in pieces-parts, her panic growing with each revelation. First was the hand on her face, clutching her so tightly it hurt; it covered her mouth, it squished her nose, leaving her only one nostril to breathe from—not nearly enough for her to catch her breath. There was another hand too, its heel pressed hard to the spot below her ribs where her stomach began, the fingers gripping so hard she could feel them through her jacket. Her leather jacket. And the body…the body she registered last, solid and sinewy and pressed flush to her back. She could feel the rise and fall of the chest at her shoulder blades. There was hot breath displacing her hair.
When finally her brain put it all together, her hands snapped up to beat at the one covering her face, pulling and scratching—anything to get even a little more air into her lungs.
It was the wrong thing to do. The hand only gripped her harder, tightening until the soft, fleshy insides of her cheeks ground into her teeth.
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the haunted house drabble was such a fucking gift to return to 💐 that it got my mind wheels whirring: the trio’s halloween costumes...
are they trying to find a cohesive throuple idea? and if so, is it a funny idea? like, as long as the three of them are entertained it’s fine—or are they shooting for serious, like, “no! we ARE winning the costume contest at payback and fanboy’s halloween party this year!”
or do they wear individual costumes? especially rhett who might not have done a lot as far as dressing up past the age of twelve, but is actually really good at successfully making homemade costumes?
and are they giving out candy? do they wear cozy seasonal loungewear and compliment all the children’s costumes, or do they leave a full mixed candy bowl out on the porch, knowing full well that a number of these kids are NOT going to take just one (!) but it’s halloween so who cares 😌🎃👻
Omg, I have been dying to find the chance to answer this 😭🎃
Bob, again, is the instigator for the Halloween costumes, but this time, it wasn't exactly his idea! He simply got caught up in the crossfire when Maverick was bickering with Reuben and Mickey about how Halloween parties are lame, and the next thing Bob knows, he's been invited to the yearly party against his will.
So what do you do when you've been invited against your will? You drag your two partners along with you! He tries sugarcoating it, says he already has some costume ideas, aaand...well...
"I ain't dressin' up as a goddamn condiment!"
"What, you think you have a better idea?" And maybe Bob's words were a little too snappy because Rhett looks like he's about to eat him alive.
Neither Reader nor Bob expects for Rhett to bark a, "Yeah, I do, actually!" Before vanishing up to the attic, wrapped up in his own little storm cloud, grumbling under his breath about how he hates store-bought costumes.
Come to find out, when Rhett was 19, he and his buddy Archie got together and crafted Ghost Buster's costumes for Wabang's yearly Halloween Costume contest. All because they'd gotten sick and tired of seeing Billy and Luke Tillerson win every damn year. Rhett's still got the cheap blue first-place ribbon, pinned on his old suit.
The costumes are elaborate, with properly sewn patches, purposeful wear and tear, and hand-built gear that genuinely looks useable. It's dusty. The suits need a good wash, and that still leaves one person without a costume, but it's better than store-bought.
Only for it to become glaringly obvious that Rhett is much bigger than his 19-year-old self. Not in height and weight but in muscle. Reader and Bob fit into the suits just fine, but Rhett? His shoulders have gotten broader, and his biceps are so thick that the seam on the sleeve busts open.
"I ain't that big!"
"Yes, you are!"
And maybe that's the reason why Rhett gets turned into a dead cowboy. Because what's a ghostbuster without a ghost?
Rhett's entire outfit is black and gray, complete with a torn cowboy hat, deliberately ripped shirt and jeans, beaten-to-hell chaps, and spurs that chime with every step he takes. He's missing part of his left sleeve (he accidentally busted another seam), flannel only buttoned halfway, and Bob's meticulously painted his skin to create the appearance of a skeleton.
There's a last-minute addition of fangs and a singular, white contact because, in the Reader's words, Rhett's eyes were far too sweet and made him look friendly rather than scary.
The party is massive.
Leave it to Mickey to pull some strings and get a damn venue in San Diego for the party when it very well could have been held in his Aunt's backyard again. There are so many people that Bob can't find his friends for a full half hour, and Rhett's actively about to crawl out of his skin if another person stops him for a picture. Half of these people aren't even dressed up!
Natasha is the biggest competition. She's rebuilt her phoenix costume from two years ago, and this time, she has not held back. Has even gone as far as to make proper wings, feathers, and all.
And she would have won, too, if Reuben, the toughest costume judge in the damn city, didn't dock her points for reusing the same theme. Leaving Bob, Reader and Rhett to switch places with her, snatching first place by a hair.
Rhett doesn't take it as a win and is now actively drawing plans for a quote, "costume that don't need no damn luck to win."
With all of the competitiveness, it's a given that the Floytt household is elaborately decorated for Halloween, but not in the way that you'd think.
Bob and Rhett, to the Reader's amusement, are in a silent war with the dad down the street, in trying to create the spookiest house on the street. Cobwebs on the porch and boarded-up windows, a big ghost on the garage, and a damn spider that jumps out at your feet as you walk by.
Oh, and fog machines galore.
All of that effort, and...nobody ever sits outside to hand out candy. Whoever gets home first fills the candy bowl, sets it outside, and settles down with the other two for a cozy night of scary movies. It's all comfy loungewear, soft blankets, and cuddling on the oversized couch, occasionally checking the doorbell camera to watch kids get spooked by the spider.
They did sit outside for the first Halloween spent in the new house. For less than a half hour before Rhett started shivering, and Bobby fell asleep on the porch swing.
Let it be known that Bob's favorite Halloween candy is candy corn, and Rhett actively throws said candy corn at his head. The Reader sometimes gets caught in the crossfire, and it always ends in candy corn being found months later in places it shouldn't be.
#rhett abbott#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott#💐#hawthorn au#rhett abbott headcanons#robert bob floyd headcanons#tw: food#milesmillergf#delgato's asks
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20 Questions Game
Thanks for tagging me, @bronzeagepizzeria & @quite-right-too 🤩
How many works do you have on AO3?
28
2. What's your total AO3 words count?
892,591
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Doctor Who
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Bloodstream (Ten x Rose multi-chap)
Tiny Lights Below (Ten x Rose - Tentoo x Rose OT3)
For All We're Worth (Ten x Rose multi-chap)
Mending (Ten x Rose multi-chap)
The Doctor's Brilliant Idea (Ten x Rose multi-chap)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Always always always, but I have a horrible habit of getting behind on replying to them - usually because I'm busy when I get a comment and consistently forget to come back... Then suddenly there's a ton of them. This is a reminder to sit down and tackle my neglected comments, so thanks, thing.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Ordinary Gifts for sure.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I meannnn, all of my fics have at least mostly happy endings, as I'm a baby. But I'd probably say Bloodstream - just considering the odds that have to be overcome to get there.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Never had until my goddamn Martha fic. But thankfully, the hate was on the latter pairing, not my writing. That's the only solace I took from that (along with some badass readers who defended me to a handful of lunatics).
9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I write all of the smut! Lengthy, graphic, emotional 'first time' scenes, as well as all subsequent smut. I have a very, very difficult time skipping over sex (have only done it once to date, and intend to write a separate fic to cover the smut I skipped 💀) and will never skip the first time.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
No, never have.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Nope, thank god.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Somebody translated Bloodstream into Russian, which was fucking cool.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I'm doing it right now with @bronzeagepizzeria and my excitement knows no bounds.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
TenRose/TentooRose, of course.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
Had an idea for a fic inspired by To Have and Not Hold by mtemplar, but have never opened the lil WIP again, and that was over a year ago.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Smut?
Also, not sure if this counts - but I'm a perfectionist about my writing. I'm constantly, obsessively rereading, which I do both as I go and when everything is finished. Making alterations, amending this or that, punching up, rewriting/removing whole scenes etc... But I still, of course, make some mistakes here and there.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I write way too goddamn much. Way too much positive reinforcement in the comments of my first fic gave me a weird perma-complex where I don't even feel like a chapter is complete until it's around 10k, which is insane. Somebody save me. This is a serious problem.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I personally don't do it - I'd rather allude to it. For example, from my fic Exposure, since I guess I'm just going all in with this goddamn questionnaire:
He murmurs something soft, something gorgeous, but Rose has got no idea what it is— only that it's far too structured to be sleepy gibberish. There's an almost-Italian-but-also-sort-of-Arabic resonance to it, yet entirely unique; something she can't even pretend to know how to accurately describe.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
The first actual fic I ever wrote was for the Russian girl group t.A.T.u in either 2003 or 2004, but I wrote it at school during 'reading time' in Language Arts. It never saw the light of day anywhere.
The first proper fic I actually wrote, finished, and posted completely was for my first feral fixation ship, Inu/Kag (Inuyasha) back in 2005.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
I fucking hate this question, but probably For All We're Worth or The Purpose of Repose
Tagging: @demdifferentstories @badxwolfxrising @mulderscully @aintfraidanoghosts @deardiary17 @naaer No pressure!
#Ignore my stupid formatting#I went to my laptop to copy/paste the whole post and its all kinds of jacked up#20 questions#Ao3#fanfiction#fic#dw fic#tenrose#tentoorose
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The internet was down at a really bad time. Long gone were the days when you could watch TV WITHOUT an internet connection. Maybe a smart TV wasn't so goddamn smart after all. He'd been watching netflix again. A lot of his time recently had been spent just laying on the couch. It wasn't good for his mental state, he knew that. But, it had been raining for DAYS, so he was not keen on going out. He DID drag his ass out once a day, but that was just to get food. He was going to fucking rot in his apartment if this weather continued. The lack of internet connection could force him to go for a walk though. Nnoitra glanced out the windows. Rain gently tapped against the not-so-clean glass. He sighed and pulled out his phone. He was gonna play a mobile game ( he only had one ) until the internet returned--- Oh. There was an update needed to start the game. Which, again - he'd need an internet connection for. FUCK why was the world so goddamn technological? He kept scrolling on his phone, hoping to find an app that could entertain him. Pretty much the only app that even worked without a connection was the photo album app. He snorted as he opened it. Nnoitra was not the kind of guy to take pictures of stuff. He sometimes took pictures of posters with ads on them, just so he'd remember where he could buy cheap shit. He scrolled through the images of old posters with promotions that had expired long ago.
All ya can eat fried chicken, huh?
Oh, wait - it had expired six weeks ago.
He continued to scroll. Almost unexpectedly, something BLUE appeared. Then more blue. A lot of blue. A blue haired guy. Sleeping, or working out, or laying on the couch with a white cat on his lap. Grimmjow. That's right... Nnoitra had almost forgotten, he'd used to take quite a lot of pictures of him while they were dating. The next picture was Grimmjow flashing his sharp teeth in a grin. His eyes squinted and his dimples showing. Something in Nnoitra's chest ached at the sight. He knew he wasn't over him ( maybe he'd never move on from him ), but to his defence, it had been a little while since he'd thought about him. Seeing pictures of him though... FUCK HE MISSED HIM.
He wanted to see him again. Wanted to hear his voice. Wanted - REALLY WANTED - to touch him. He scrolled to the next picture. Fuck... He really was so goddamn handsome, wasn't he? With his sharp jawline and bright blue eyes. Not to mention those abs. Ah, fuck. He was getting horny. Was he really going to jerk off to pictures of his ex? How pathetic was that?
His pants felt tight so he opened them. Even while depressed, Nnoitra sex-drive was on-point. He'd already jacked off today. Didn't mean he couldn't go for another round though. He shoved his hand down his boxers.
It was such a long time ago, that he could not really recall the feeling of Grimmjow's touch. How his single hand had felt when it touched him. He remembered his lips had always been chapped. He remembered the scent of him. Cigarettes ( which Nnoitra hated ). Somehow he hadn't minded it when the scent came from Grimmjow. He remembered how cold his body had always felt. He could picture him quite vividly in a number of compromised positions. How good he'd looked when he was being choked. His face when he came.
The sex with Grimmjow had always been great. Nnoitra hadn't really appreciated just HOW good it had been. Having sex with someone you actually loved - and who loved you in return. Maybe it was a cliche, but it was special. Nnoitra got laid PLENTY now that he was single, but... It could not compare. And no, that wasn't just because the guys ( or girls ) he slept with were not as good looking as Grimmjow ( though you'd be fucking hard pressed to find anyone with looks that matched ). Nnoitra knew it was the emotional connection that was missing. He really... Really had loved Grimmjow. Too bad Grimmjow had stopped loving him. No - that was not fair. It was he who had made it impossible for Grimmjow to love him.
Nnoitra wrapped his fingers around his dick, squeezing to feel the size. Always satisfying. Even now that he was feeling a weird hybrid between heartbroken and horny as hell. He started stroking himself. His eye slid shut so he could better imagine Grimmjow's face. How he would kiss him. How the other's hand would push up into his hair and pull. Hard. How Nnoitra would shove his tongue into his mouth to take his breath away.
I know I'm a fuck-up.
'S there a chance ya can still love me?
'N even if ya can't ---
Won't ya let me fuck ya so I can pretend?
And in his fantasy, Grimmjow would deepen the kiss. Like he was saying that YEAH, he could try to love him again. Then Nnoitra would open up his body. Quite forcefully because he couldn't wait to be close to him. Be inside him. Fuck, he loved Grimmjow's expression when he fucked him. How his eyes watered over as he tipped his head back and moaned. FUCK---
Nnoitra got off, and came crashing down from his brief high with a mix of shame and sadness. It really was pretty pathetic, to jerk off to a fantasy about getting back together with his ex. Not to mention Grimmjow deserved better than to be his jack-off material. Still he really just... Missed him. Missed him so much.
#[ me: nnoitra u ok there my dude ]#[ nOOO he's sad about being single again ]#[ - shakes my fist at him - ]#[ been a while since i wrote a drabble ]#[ nnoitra just felt this sO strongly that i had to write it down ]#[ t - t ]#despair for me. ╱ in character.#burn the city. ╱ main verse.#drabble.#not safe for work //#suggestive //
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THE MOTHERFUCKING GRABBER WAS IN MY DREAM. AGAIN.
IDK HOW HE GOT ME BUT HE HAD ME AND KEPT ME IN HIS YARD IN A HOLE IN THE GROUND BUT THERE WAS WOOD PLANKS ABOVE ME WITH A HOLE IN IT JUST ENOUGH FOR ME TO STICK MY HEAD OUT.
then I found out I was being used as a scarecrow??? because he had a farm??? and his farm animals always ate his garden and he didn't like yelling at them all the time?? so every once in a while I'd stick my head out through the hole and yell at a goddamned COW for eating his cucumbers,,,,then some times he'd come out and ask me questions about the monkees.....who they were what they played who was who. it was weird shit. and also I remember distinctly taking my head out of the hole and slamming my teeth into the wood like I was biting it on accident but turns out I was just kicked in the face last night and that's why it happened.
THEN THERE WAS A STORM AND HE CAME OUT TO BRING ME INSIDE??? but I'm pretty sure it was just than hawke and his man boobs this time because he wasn't being scary or grabber-y and just offered me things to dry off with. then there was a knock at the door and some counselor came from another room and told the grabber(?) and I that you never answer the door. even if by like. every fucking moral law you don't answer it. so when whoever it was knocked again she went "who is it?" and the guy said he was starving and wounded from the storm and she went "oh well sorry old chap we cant let you in!" then the DOOR WAS KICKED DOWN AND HE HAD A GUN AND WAS SHOOTING US???? then the grabber(?) and I ran outside into the storm and hid in my scarecrow hole until I woke up......
RAYA WHAT THE FUCK AHAHAHAHAHAHAH. um but like human scarecrow living in a hole on a farm sounds like a dream job. also having someone ask me voluntarily to talk about the monkees while doing so?? uuuuuh yeah huge W
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Okay so, now that my brain processed everything and i can give an actual review and not just yell at your face about how good it was.
First of all the tension between y/n and hyun is killing me. You write it so incredibly and realistically it’s eating me alive i want to read their scenes again and again and again (guilty. i do that) it’s just way too good and the sexual tension in this chap is going crazy and so am i 😰. ROOM WAS HOT ROOM WAS SPINNING .
Also, i felt so terrible for hyunjin at the beginning of the chap where hana and minho make him feel like his idea for the event was terrible. He got so sad and he was so excited about it my heart literally broke into a million pieces reading that part. And then when they started talking about y/n and felix and hyun got so jealous and upset about it oh my god you actually killed me.
aaaand . i realized this after reading it a second time (yes i already read this 2 times from start to finish) after the conversation hana and minho had in front of him about y/n and felix.. hyunjin got so upset he got himself drunk ??????? cause he explains to y/n that he was drunk during their call.when i tell you my heart SUNK 😭 he‘s falling and he’s falling hard.
Don’t even get me started about the scene at his house ..at his room. Had me hot and bothered my head was spinning i could see the oxygen around me. Y/n finding the condoms in his stuff. Him seeing it and smirking down at himself ???? y/n licking the stat off his face and him getting turned on ??? him grabbing her the whole time ??? her seeing that he’s hard ?? I CAN GO ON BUT ILL STOP. GOD. It was so fucking hot and it was /nothing\ compared to the real deal. Goddamn. I can only imagine.
Anyway you’re insane for this chap and i just know it’s only going to get more insane from now on. Holding my breath until next time 🤓
thank you for sending me this review of part 10 🥺 it’s all right,,, i don’t mind you yelling at my face about it either.
glad you like the sexual tension between them, and that you reread their scenes multiple times ?? thank you ! 😭 rereading is always such a huge compliment.
im happy you liked jealous hyun, but yeah that scene is sad for him :( alsooo, no he didn’t get drunk, he said he was “drunk on sleep” haha, but yeah he definitely was affected by that conversation. :(
hahahaha the way you summed up the scene in his room, i love it,,,,very accurate, very true, very hot
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Few Thoughts on a Few Things • XIX
TV Party:
We've (b/c of me, I don't watch many shows at all) finally gotten around to watching The Mandalorian s3. A couple things: 1) idgaf how old I am or whatever, I fuckin' love Grogu, and I am thankful the entire series hasn't been just making me stress by putting baby Grogu in constant peril. If anything happens to him, I swear to fucking christ... 2) Watched up to the last episode, and I can certainly do without the goofy military tactical lingo and actions. It's way too forced and obvious. Just stop it.
Finished watching Letterkenny, which, ostensibly was the final episode ever. Overall, loved the show and will miss it. I did not, however, dig that last final shot w/ Wayne and that annoying Mexico woman. Why tf not have Rosie in that shot?! Unacceptable! Other than that small detail, it was a great finale.
We're also sloggin thru a few other shows start-to-finish, right now one of them is SVU, now in season 11 I think, so a shitton left. Can only watch so much of it at once though, for obvious reasons. Purpose of mentioning it is that we just saw the ep.'s with Sharon Stone as the ADA, and holy shit she is bad. Like really fucking bad. Poor lines, dialog, delivery, all of it. Gonna give her the benefit of the doubt and hope it's just the writers... and also hope ta fuck that's all we see of her on that show! Seems like I'm not on an island here.
Wanna talk politics? No? Okay, let's talk politics:
I'm gonna say it — Joe Biden needs to drop the fuck out. The fact that the Democratic party, the official party, is fucked in the head if they don't see what's coming. I'm honestly baffled by it all. Either hubris or just complete ineptitude. It's just incredible head-in-the-sand shit. The simple reality that there's even a remote, even astronomically remote, possibility that Trump even has a chance should be beyond a wake-up call. Relying on a corrupt, stacked Supreme Court is beyond absurd. Dems have got to clean the shit from their ears and get with the fucking program. Relatively few in any sort of generally mainstream media have had the balls to say anything other than, "he's the guy; get over it!" That sorta shit from libs drives me up the fucking wall. One got close at least. How's about address one fucking legitimate concern people have... that people are fucking screaming about! Also, if Trump is the legit threat people say he is — I, for one, believe that to be the case with good cause — like an existential fucking threat, then why aren't Dems taking this more seriously. Look at how we've dealt with even perceived threats in the past, perhaps. Not making any sort of suggestions here, but goddammit, we're literally just kicking this old bag o' bones down the street towards straight-up dictatorship. It's really something to witness.
I saw this headline a few days ago and knew exactly what 'slur' it was referencing — firsthand knowledge from over 20 fucking years ago! In my previous life I was passing through El Paso, or maybe it was Del Rio, and had to liaise with some different feds in the area, including a few Border Patrol agents. I cannot recall the context where he brought it up, but can picture the asshole laughing as he explained to us what a "tonk" was. Yes, his exact words were, "it's the sound your maglite makes when you smack 'em on the head." Sadly, I was not in position at the time to challenge this guy. Regardless, it's FUBAR.
Old man yells at cloud:
All of the two or three people who know me well knows how much I fucking hate insurance. Like, I'm startin ta get pissed even typing this! Anyhow, the insurance tv commercials are outta fucking control. And you know what chaps my ass even more about it, is that these goddamned ads are just dumbass schtick, not actually selling a product. It's the fucking emu or Flo or the goddamned cartoon lizard. It's just so fucking insulting man.
Watched 'Signs' again last week. I know, Mel Gibson is a turd, but you could honestly say the same for about 83% of "Hollywood" eh? Anyhow, remember the bookstore where the two kids pick up the book on aliens, the dude yelling about it all being a conspiracy to sell pop... yeah that's me now.
ICYMI:
I made a new playlist on the youtube channel for my current training program, not entirely unlike previous programs I've written, but new nonetheless. If you're into this sorta thing, check it out. I will try to keep up posting clips from my sessions.
Thanks for reading this.
hugs & crap
#thoughts and rants#politics#joe biden#tv#movies#law and order svu#letterkenny#the mandalorian#grogu#signs#tv commercials#training programs#fitness#fitblr#personal fitblr#vegetarian lifter#health & fitness#workout#calisthenics
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Apropos of that last reblog, I got in a fight at work this week over - of all things - dry erase markers.
See, I was asked to buy some, and for the past year and a half all I have heard is bitching about the fucking store brand markers and how they Don't Erase and Die Immediately and various other sins. So I resolved to buy the good markers, not out of brand snobbery but because they are demonstrably better. However, I am not permitted to just buy things, I must get approval. Once, this was just approval from my boss, the head of the department, but lately my workplace has been in dire financial straits so we're all being frugal and now there's an extra layer of approval to go through from outside the department. And unfortunately the chap tasked with this responsibility has been told to hold the line on the good markers because they are Too Expensive. It's come up before.
So anyway, knowing I was fighting a moderately uphill battle, I went to have a collegial chat with the guy and ask if, pretty please, we could get the good markers just this once because it's actually having an impact on how the faculty in my department do their jobs. I was told no, they're too expensive, but I'm sure we can find an alternative. Thus stymied, I went away and did the research.
Now, this is where it comes back to academic disputes. One thing any academic knows is that academics love to do research. People who are not academics do not seem to grasp this. So when I say I did the research, I mean I did the fucking research. It took me an hour or so to collate materials and write up my findings in a meticulously-cited email, wherein I presented that not only was the alternative I'd been presented nonviable (the black markers are backordered), but also right now the good markers are on sale so they're actually less expensive than the ones I'd been offered (which again, are currently only available in the more-colors-than-would-be-useful configuration). For good measure, I also went through enough pages of highly-rated search results to get about eight other alternatives, and explained concisely why they wouldn't work for our purposes (commonly: too expensive, too many colors, too few reviews for the rating to be statistically significant). The conclusion: let me buy the good markers, they're actually the fiscally responsible option right now.
Reader, he did not just let me buy the goddamn markers.
He didn't say no, exactly, but the subtext of his response was "I'll find you something, tell me what you need," as though I, a person with multiple graduate degrees, don't know how to do product research and price comparisons. Operating under the impression that he just couldn't say yes (because of a mandate from on high), I...escalated to the person who could say yes (his boss), with my boss's blessing. Unfortunately, this seems to have annoyed his boss, because something something surely we have better things to do. And on the one hand, sure. I could've been eating lunch instead of escalating. But on the other hand, researching the best solution to a problem is kind of my thing. I don't know why she's upset that I'm engaging in natural behaviors.
Anyway, long story short, we're getting the good markers because I was right. All my faculty will rejoice, and hopefully a couple more people will grasp that one should never go in against a scientist when the weapon is research. It's a classic blunder, but an infuriating one.
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Phic Phight - The Green Ribbon Is Staples
@astatia-ghast @q-gorgeous @mr-lancers-english-class @tourettesdog
Danny gets a lot of injuries but every so often he gets one he’s never gotten before, normally that’s just a pain since none of the trio usually know what exactly to do about it but they eventually manage; unfortunately this time it’s a little too revealing.
Chap. 1:
Decapitation Station
Okay. So. Danny’s got a problem. Or twenty. Twenty problems sounds more accurate. Why? Well um, lets rewind a little.
See he was heading home, from detention due to missing homework, like usual, when his ghost sense did what his ghost sense does. So, you know, he had a fight to fight, ghostly ass to kick. It was good ol’ Boxy because of course it was, he should have figured honestly. But the surprising part? The real cut throat turn of events? Yeah apparently Boxy got his hands on multiple boxes -read: more than two- of barbed wire, ecto-barbed wire because apparently Jeb was trying to protect his chickens -he has chicken in his houses tiny back yard for some fucking inane reason, like seriously why? Ugh- from a ghost kitsune.
So Boxy threw the boxes at Danny like he normally does.
Danny let the boxes phase through him like he normally does, because come on? regular boxes are a shit weapon.
But surprise! That turned out to be the dumbest decision he’s made in a long fucking time. Why? Well because the ecto-barbed wire inside the boxes, that he obviously could not see because the boxes were fucking closed, did not go through him like he expect.
They did go through him though. Just... not the way he wanted them to.
Meaning they went through him by cutting through him very literally. He’d realised his fuck up quick enough to minimise the damage but that was because the first box was aimed at his goddamn head. The Box Ghost got to be cut throat for the first time in his entire existence, at the cost of Danny’s head getting fucking whole ass flung into a grocery store wall.
At least this is how Danny got to find out he could still move his body without its head. It’s also how he found out that decapitation is terrifying to ol’ Boxy.
“I! AM SORRY! THAT IS NOT OKAY! I mean you are less circular now!”.
Danny takes the time to have his headless body kick The Box Ghost in the shin as his hearing cuts out before using his thermos, it’s hard as fuck to aim without being able to tell what he’s looking at. Since, apparently, he could use his body without a head but couldn’t use his head without it being still connected to his core, fucking great luck there.
It’s still pathetically easy to catch Boxy, even effectively blind. Using the feel of ecto-energy and ghostly pressure, no matter how weak, to figure out his own location and Boxy’s, aim and fire and he gets the ghost on his third try. No quippy wit of course, since he was down a fucking head holy shit.
At least he manages to find his head, it, unfortunately, does not auto reattach.
... And he can’t see to stitch it on himself. Meaning he needs Sam or Tuck, preferably Sam. But she’s not a ghost, meaning he can’t just locate her ecto-signature. He also can’t just float around Amity cradling his head and hoping she fucking sees him. He also can’t call, because no mouth obviously. So that’s either three or four of his twenty some issues. The fifth is just the pure fact that Boxy of all ghosts is the one to put him in this situation in the first place, talk about embarrassing. Ugh.
Danny settles for calling Tuck, who can absolutely trance the call with ease, and just scrapping the phone speaker on the floor and making thumping noises with his feet. He’d look up morse code if he could see. Zone if he didn’t have Tuck on speed dial he’d be fucked... on second thought he might not have even managed to call Tuck.
Should he try again?
Well it can’t make things worse.
He calls about twenty times and maybe some go through maybe some don’t. He can’t hear if there’s a voicemail. Fuck how is he even gonna know if Tuck does show up? If he had at least one of his heads senses he’d be cool, Tuck always smelled like meat and metal, his voice was an obvious easy identifier or whatever, he did in fact know what the guy’s skin tasted like, and sight was easy.
But touch was all he’s got right now and unless he’s touching a ghost, aka something with an ecto-field, he can barely tell the difference between people. Maybe whoever will clue in and write their name on his arm or something? He can only hope to be that lucky.
…
He is not that lucky.
In multiple ways.
Who ever he’s called is definitely not lean or skinny. Meaning they’re not any of the people he was cool with calling. It’s not Sam’s lean muscled arms with sharp pointed nails. It’s not Tuck’s skinny arms and calloused fingers. It’s not Jazz’s skinny arms and would have been shaking hands. Zone it’s not even Val’s lean toned arms and firm grip.
Whoever it is has thick muscled arms and rough large hands. If the hands where bigger he’d think he really fucked up and called his dad, but they’re not. Plus, his dads hands would probably not be shaking. His dad wouldn’t be freaked out by an injured ghost. His dad would not be handling an injured ghost with gentle care. His dad would not be seemingly attempting to help. His dad would either ‘study’ him or hurt him or capture him.
This person is doing none of those three things. This persons hands are shaking, they are freaked out, and they are helping. Meaning he should be okay enough at least. Problem is he doesn’t know if this person can do stitches well enough to align and reconnect stuff, or if this person is actually anyone he called and not some random person who just happened to be around.
Danny’s got his head cradled in one arm and pressed against his stomach, the person is holding onto that arm, so Danny uses his free hand to point at his head then at his neck, making vague stitching motions and hoping the message is getting across.
He can feel heavy breathes brush against his jumpsuit so he’s guessing that who ever took some restorative breaths, good? Hopefully otherwise he might be very fucked until someone else shows up. Either way Danny moves his head so that he can kinda feel the mangled detached end of it brushing against the mangled detached end of his neck, he thinks he got his head on the right angle but whoever hopefully can line up his spine for him.
Wait shit, if this isn’t Sam, Tuck, or Jazz, which it obviously isn’t, then they won’t know he has a fucking spine since ghosts don’t normally have that shit.
Quickly lifting his head up making the person definitely jerk, to flip it enough for whoever to see the spine end. Gesturing vaguely where he thinks the spine end is, then leaning his body/neck forward and physically grabbing his spine and tapping on it. Hopefully they get it, he gives whoever a thumbs up for moral support before going back to aligning his neck ends and holding his head steady with both hands.
The person goes around his back, their knees pressing up against his lower back and ass, whoever was tall damn. Not his dad tall but definitely at least six foot. Even their knees are shaking though so that’s not great; hopefully they have a decent therapist. Great now he sounds like Jazz, ugh.
The person does tentatively touch his spine bit and Danny’s pretty sure he can feel his heads bit of spine pressing into it. He keeps holding his head when the other person feels to get up.
...
They didn’t just leave did they? The fuck??? Even if he is a ghost that’s still pretty fucked up to just leave him, especially when whoever poked at him and maybe tried to see if they could help.
... Did they maybe go to grab some shit perhaps? Right yeah most people didn’t just walk around everywhere with medi kits and shit.
...
It is taking whoever a while if that’s what they’re- oh wait nevermind, based on the vibrations on the ground he’s going to guess the person is back and it seems like they’re running. Cool. Okay. Definitely had gone to get stuff.
The person damn near knees him in the back when they get back down on the floor with him. Jerk. Danny would scoff or scowl if his head was freaking attached.
They’re grabbing at his spine again so it’s definitely one hundred percent the same person. Good. Cool. He wasn’t totally abandoned headless by a random grocery store.
Then he feels some seriously jarring vibrations travel down from the bit of spine attached to his skull, officially very confused. What the actually crap did whoever run off to get??? Then he feels cold metal on his bodies exposed section of spine, it feels kind of like a flat bar? Oh! OH! Okay he is absolutely getting a metal bracket drilled into his spine to hold it together, that was actually pretty fucked up. Effective hopefully but wow, oof. This was gonna suck so much later.
And now he can’t tell if the person is shaking because of being freaked out or because of the goddamn drill they’re taking to his spine.
He thinks whoever drills on three brackets or metal rods, before the drilling fully and finally stops. He’s starting to get some feeling back in the rest of his spine and the bottom bit of his skull but his actual skin and hair and senses are still a lost cause. Whoever taps he’s shoulder very cautiously and draws a question mark over his jumpsuit, so Danny moves to hold his head up by the hair and takes the other hand off of his head to try and pinch the jagged detached edges of neck skin together, then making the stitching gestures again. He needs his skin at least somewhat securely connected for things to heal at a remotely functional degree, annoying but whatever.
The person writes ‘ok’ on his skin, at least the person was calm enough to try communicating with him now. Neat but Danny’s not going to push shit, instead going back to using both hands to hold his head steady. Unfortunately he had expected this person to, you know, use a sewing needle or something and some fucking thread to stitch his skin up. What he hadn’t expected was the sudden feeling of being shot with two extremely shallow and thin bullets straight in the neck. Ancients fuck what the hell?!? He absolutely jerks from that.
Okay so, this fucker is using a goddamn staple gun he thinks? Did whoever run off to a fucking hardware store? The next staple is a lot shakier and Danny makes a point not to jump, which gets him rewarded with the next staple being less shaky. Danny’s just going along with this because it should? maybe? actually work? Hard to say since he’s never reached for goddamn staples when he’s needed a bit of patching up. This person was probably hoping that securing his spine would be good enough. Well tough shit, his luck ain’t that fuckin��� good.
...
.......
It takes a goddamn while, and he thinks the person is taking fortifying breathers every so often. Which is fair. Stapling a persons neck back on had to be super upsetting and freaky. But! He can actually hear -yes, hear!- the staple gun noises now. It’s alarming a little, way too much like the sound of some of his folks guns but he can take it. But eventually whoever does stop.
“Holy shit this is, so fucked”.
Wait... holy shit, Dash???? Why him of all people???? The fuck? Well... okay guess Danny can’t be complaining too much. The guy had a ton of hero worship going on, so he wasn’t going to dick his goddamn idol over.
Danny tentatively lets go of his head and, when it doesn’t flop over or anything, he gives Dash a double thumbs up.
“Oh, oh thank zone his heads not loling over. Holy shit”.
Danny taps on his ears and gives another thumbs up.
“Are... are you trying to say you can hear again? Fuck this is so screwed up”; it kinda sounded like he ran his hands through his hair roughly.
Danny gives another, but far more eager, thumbs up.
“That’s? That’s good right?”.
Another thumbs up from Danny.
“Okay good. Good. This is so not how I ever wanted to run into my hero. In to you. What the zone even happened?”.
Danny doesn’t know how Dash expects him to answer him. So he makes an ‘x’ with his fingers over his mouth or where it feels like his mouth is anyways.
“Still can’t speak huh?”, he actually snorts even if it sounds shaky as Hell, “that must suck for you”.
Oh hundred percent yes. Danny’s a talkative bastard. Danny flips him off. Apparently that’s really funny because Dash just starts wheeze laughing, it sounds like he flopped down on the ground which is honestly probably really gross, fuck knows what’s on it.
“Zone I just stapled Phantom’s neck together and he flipped me off, what the fuck is today oh ugh”.
Hey if anyone’s having a shit day here it’s him. Sure having to fix him would be pretty fucked but at last Dash wasn’t the one dealing with being fucking decapitated and oh hey his visions coming back some. Blurry as hell but he can, in fact, see. He glances around, there’s a lot of glowing green stuff, probably his ecto, he should probably clean that up; also, he now knows why he usually fixes himself up with thread and not staples, shit is tense and makes his skin pull.
Eyeing Dash, who’s staring at him Danny thinks, Dash jerking and sitting up, “hey the blank stares gone, you got vision back?”.
Danny wiggles his hand back and forth in the air and makes a weird squeaking sound, shrugging. Dash shakes his head disbelievingly, “I can’t believe you can survive losing your freaking head. Man that’s cool. Super freaky and I’m going to have so many nightmares now”.
“Air pee”.
Dash looks at him deeply concerned, opening and closing his mouth a few times before shaking his head and getting up. “You good? I can leave? Wait shit, sign my arm!”.
Danny rolls his eyes but does as he’s asked because he is not nearly enough of an asshole to refuse after the guy stapled and drilled his freaking head back on. Danny also gives him a pretty solid back pat, “you ‘ight”.
“Thanks but no? I’m raiding my dads liquor cabinet immediately”.
Danny can’t even give him shit for that, even if even he knows that ain’t the best way to deal with fucked up shit. Shrugging and stretching out, a lot of things cracking and popping, nice he’s seeing actual proper details now and his spine feels more proper spine like. Shit was gonna take so long to heal though. “Jus’ don’ mae rum ceral an’ don’ wine up inna ‘rigerater”.
Dash sounds horrifically disgusted, “ew and... I won’t?”, the jock somewhat cautiously walks away. Fair enough, Danny just put him through some whack ass shit and then basically admitted to having had rum cereal and crawling into a refrigerator....
Him and his stupid fucking mouth.
...
Okay so what now, if he changes back right now he’s going to start bleeding red everywhere. Fuck right, he’s gotta clean up his ectoplasm. At least that’s a simple thing, floating back down towards the ground and setting it all on fire. Watching the blue flames for a bit and realising that he absolutely can not hide Dash’s patch job for shit.
Well.
Fuck him entirely.
And by ‘him’ he means himself, not Dash. Dash did the best he could and Danny could not expect anyone to do a stellar job of reattaching people’s heads. In fact, someone being remotely skilled at that should be deeply concerning. Even a ghost having that skill would be concerning.
Alright so first things first, find something reflective and check Dash’s work out. Hmmmm. Okay so a chunk of shiny metal will have to do. Him lifting the piece up and around his neck to check it out, flames still burning away, as Sam arrives.
“Danny why did I get a soundless thumping call and why is this entire area on fire?”.
So Dash did a pretty okay-ish job, like yes all the staples are almost all uneven and less than straight, some aren’t in properly and one looks like it got bent to fuck. But his skin is knitting itself back together.
Danny turning around to wave at Sam gets him an instant gasp of horror. “Oh fucking zone, what happened!”.
Danny holds up a finger, “so I can survive decapitation and Dash know’s how to use power tools”, and floats himself around her enough for her to look at his neck, even she’s being leery about touching it or moving his head around. At least his vocal cords have put themselves back together, even if it sounds like he’s eaten an entire box of nails.
“Damn your voice sounds like shit”, she winces, poking one of the staples which Danny absolutely twitches in a bit of discomfort from. Okay so this shit was gonna hurt like a bitch when he changes back, ugh. Her frowning and digging in her pocket, “okay sit down, I’m at least attempting to straighten this shit out. I’m not taking out the staples, it’s healed some so it’ll do less damage to just let your body dissolve the metal”.
“Yeah he also drilled fucking hardware brackets into my spine”.
“Why would let him use that!”.
“I couldn’t see or hear or speak! Sam! I couldn’t tell who it even was that was trying to give me a patch up!”.
Sam rubs her temples sighing, pointing at the ground which fine Danny floats back down towards. At least the flames are dying out, yay for not leaving a crime scene level of ectoplasmic mess that could be traced back to him! Her getting to work immediately, “geez he pulled your skin too tight in some spots and not tight enough in others. Some spots aren’t even lined up well!”.
“Sam give the guy a break, he was terrified! And remotely normal people do not know how to put skin back together unless they’re literally doctors”.
“Yeah well this is going to heal really nasty, it’s already healed nasty”, she points at his face with a slightly ectoplasm stained finger, “and you aren’t missing any jumpsuit meaning unless you feel like adding a choker to your costume you can’t cover this up”.
He was unfortunately aware of that. As Phantom it wasn’t… too big of a deal. It would just raise questions about ghosts being able to get scars and how he got it and if he had more. Zone his folks might even rework some of their research over this. But… it would make people worry and he didn’t want that. “Considering the choker wouldn’t even be part of my actual form, I’d just wind up wrecking it. But-”.
She huffs, unclipping her own choker and holding it in front of his face, “you better have been about to say ‘but I should at least cover it up while it’s healing’ Danny. I have a million of these things, go ahead and destroy a few”; she drops it on his lap and continues moving his floating ass around to stitch between the staples.
Danny sighs to himself, careful not to swallow or move his Adam’s apple too much, “fine, but I’m just going to wear turtlenecks as Fenton, a chokers a little too attention drawing when I don’t normally wear that shit”.
She just scoffs as she continues her work.
Would a turtle neck hide this shit? Not if anyone remotely looked at him with any degree of attention even slightly. Like a child wouldn’t notice purely by being a lot smaller than him but that’s it. Unfortunately a choker or handkerchief will just make people more likely to look at his neck, and bandages would be even worse. Aka he doesn’t really have any options here.
Sam nodding and leaning back, “okay, you’re good. This is a seriously messed up injury though, you caught the ghost who did this? It was a ghost right?”.
Danny blushes immediately, “it was a ghost yeah, and ugh, I’m never living this down”, sighing into a hand and trying to ignore the way the staples pull, “it was fucking Boxy”. She laughs scandalised at him. Danny groaning more, “yeah yeah laugh it up. He actually scared himself”. She laughs even more and fine he joins in a little too. Fuck today so much.
…
After a bit she pokes his floating ass, “you should change back, so you get over the pain before we get you home and in bed. Your parents are still doing late night hunts right?”.
Danny sighs, putting his feet on the ground and nodding, “unfortunately, yeah”, moving to rub his neck before remembering that would be a fucking dumb idea and scratching his hair instead, his head felt unpleasantly fresh, “sure it means I don’t have to deal with their questioning but ugh”. They would somehow manage to get themselves involved in one of his late night ghost fights and shoot at him, it was annoying and every time it happened whatever ghost he was fighting legit debated throwing hands with his parents for real. Some purely because the Fenton’s shot first, others because they were interrupting their chosen ‘Phantom fist-a-cuffs’ time, others because they knew Phantom wouldn’t do it himself.
Anyway.
Human time.
Ha. This was gonna suck. Sure not as much as that time Tuck had to haphazardly shove his organs back inside him and Danny had to change back before said organs could reorganise themselves, but still. He cringes his whole face up in anticipation as he lets the change flow over him. “ANCIENTS FUCK!”, bending over, one hand on a now shaking knee, and the other tenderly over the front of his neck.
Ow.
Holy shit.
Fucking Hell he is never getting decapitated again. Oh Ancients.
He can taste metal inside his throat and he can’t tell if that’s blood or actual literal metal. The spine bolts are awful actually, he should not have let Dash do that. Oh he is regretting everything so much. “FUCK! OW! WHY DID I LET HIM DO THAT!”.
Sam pats his back as he drops his hand from his neck, touching would only make it worse, both hands on his knees and wheezing now. His neck was on fire and extremely cold all at once and it was fucking stupid and he hated it. He can feel his ecto attacking the metal, it burned more than he’d like. Swallowing, “oh that was such a bad idea”, he is not eating anything for a while. Pushing himself to stand up and blinking tears out of his eyes, “I, ow, am phasing all my food directly into my stomach for a while. Oh zone, this sucks”.
San pats his back again, “figured. Definitely no swallowing utensils for you for a bit”.
“Sam, if a fork prong got caught on or nicked the stupid bolts, which some are definitely partly inside my throat and bolted back to my spine, I will scream immediately”. Zone he would have screamed from changing back if he hadn’t been prepared for it to hurt like a son of a bitch.
She nods, “and I wouldn’t blame you”, scowling, “I still can’t believe you let Dash drill fucking Home Depot bolts into your neck. You know how dirty those things probably were? Ugh. Now stand still, you’re leaking”.
Danny has to clench his fists something fierce, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands, to keep from flinching as she wipes a cloth around his neck. Rolling his eyes at her whipping the side of his mouth too with a stupid smirk. “How bad does it look?”; he does not feel like going through the effort and pain of trying to use that bit of metal to look it over again.
“Bad. Danny. Gnarly and jagged. The staples stick out really harshly”, frowning and crossing her eyes as they cautiously and carefully make their way out from behind/around the grocery store which was thankfully closed. “When I stitch you up I always try to make it blend smoothly with your skin as much as possible, Dash was definitely not thinking about that, which fine I can’t blame him for, but still”, grimacing, “you better be really careful about what turtlenecks you wear, otherwise the staples are going to catch on the fabric”.
Danny full body winces, oh zone that would suck. He might maybe be able to resist screaming at that but he’ll definitely at least suck in a really ragged breath and curl in on himself. He was used to pain but still; he doesn’t even want to move his head or neck around. And of course his voice still sounded like hot garbage but considering the bolt attaching the inside of his throat to his spine that made sense. He really wishes Dash had positioned that one bracket and set of bolts differently. He can absolutely feel the metal bar being squished between his throat and spine. Ugh.
Shaking his head as they finally make their way back to FentonWorks. Sam giving him another pat, “you good to see yourself to bed or am I helping the injured baby”.
Danny snorts, “oh shove it”, chuckling, “I can handle my self but I am absolutely taking the fuzzy blanket off of my bed because I do not want to get woken up by my bed ripping out a staple”.
“Smart choice”.
She heads off with a simple wave and chuckle at Danny sticking out his tongue, at least he had motor control of said tongue again. Okay, now get lunch and go to bed before his parents possibly show up.
He grabs out the left over chilli, that is thankfully not sentient or moldy, and phases it into his stomach. Was it going to take a bit to digest? Yes, obviously. But he was absolutely not chewing this shit and swallowing it. He’s had enough unintentional pain for one day that he absolutely does not feel up to adding in any intentional pain.
The fluffy blanket that was super comfortable especially when his muscles were all achey, gets torn off and left on the floor in a heap. His floor isn’t exactly ‘clean’ but that doesn’t really matter to his sorry ass; he is going the fuck to sleep.
“Nocturne bless this fucking bed”.
Chap. 2:
The Un-hide-able Kind Of Damage
Did Danny sleep the whole night away? Obviously not. That never fucking happens. But no one serious showed up and every single one that showed up took one look at his neck and noped out. Apparently there was a bit of a code to not mess with Phantom if he was rocking some injury that was really fucked up. It’s didn’t help that it looked gnarly regardless of form... the choker barely helped and he forgot it almost every time.
But he managed to make it to morning without further neck or throat damage. He also did not see any online photos or videos of the damage, so far so good.
He absolutely meticulously inspects his turtleneck options for loose thread or snaggy material. He’s left with a total of three wearable sweaters, not great but not, you know, bad either. The one he goes with is a dark red, in case he bleeds a little, and has a burning Christmas’s tree on it, because anytime is the right time to say fuck you to Christmas. Dumbass holiday, that one. He phases the thing on because he is not dealing with trying to get his head and thusly neck through the long turtleneck part, shit’s painful enough as it is. Him fiddling with the collar in the mirror, the wound is still jagged enough that the fabric brushing against the edges sends twinges of pain up and down his neck. It’s not great. Not at all. Plus, it covers the wound about as well as he expected it to; if anyone one stares or specifically looks at his neck then he’s screwed.
He’s seriously tempted to just... not go to school. Zone spending the day laying in the park would be better. But the lasts thing he needs is the school calling his parents and them wanting to have a talk with him. Or everything forbid he runs into them while he’s supposed to be in class. Even if he was still getting along with them, which he’s not going to be anytime soon, he wouldn’t want them around him to possibly notice he’s injured.
Meaning school pretty much has to happen. Sighing to himself and moving down the stairs gingerly enough to not make his sweater move, heading out to go suffer through wildly unnecessary schooling.
…
He waves at Sam and Tuck, they’re huddled by his locker, man does he ever love them. Tuck looks so worried at him, “show me immediately. What the hell, man”.
Danny smirking and gingerly pulling out and down his sweater, wincing a little from the pressure against the back of his neck, “Sam told you?”.
Tuck’s entire face cringes up, “damn that’s hardcore, did you actually thank Dash for doing that to your poor neck”.
Danny letting go of his sweater and bopping the techno geek on the head, “he literally reattached my head, of course I did”, shrugging, “sure the way he did it is a little shit and a pain in the ass but at least I have a head again”.
Both of them roll their eyes at him but they’re smiling so it’s pretty clear it’s all in good fun and jest. Tuck poking him, “oh and we’ve already agreed that we’re taking your notes because you absolutely shouldn’t be lifting and lowering you head constantly for hours. You should be attempting to heal”.
“Pfft, since when do I go out of my way specifically for healing but I’m lazy and you guys know that, meaning you know I’m not gonna say no”.
All three chuckling as him and Tuck head to their first class, Sam going her own way after a bit.
Danny makes it though exactly twenty three minutes of class before his ghost sense goes off. At least the ice going up his throat felt faintly soothing, as he shoots his arm up, “bathroom”, and leaves without being given the go ahead. No one ever tried to stop him anymore, all he would get was annoyed glares or sad ones in Lancer’s case.
Pulling into the bathroom and changing, relishing the lack of pain for a bit before zipping up invisibly through the ceiling; he’s got a ghost to track down.
He has absolutely no issue finding the ghost. Why?
Because he immediately head butted a motorcycle the second his head exited the fucking roof top.
His poor neck. Zone. Why him?
Danny floating backwards, rubbing his head and grumbling, “Johnny? What the hell, man?”.
“Oh damn you really did get decapitated, huh?”.
“The fuck you think? Duh”, sighing and crossing his arms at the ghost, “did you just show up to see for yourself?”. He’s going to be a little pissed if that’s the case. He can do without the ghosts doing ‘wellness checks’ on him anymore than certain ones already did.
Johnny snorts, “surprised it didn’t wind up mounted on a wall”.
To be fair, that’s kinda what Danny himself thought would be what happened if he ever did lose his damn head, but that was mostly because of Skulker being the only one that usually tried to ‘relive’ him of his head. Scoffing, “as if I’d ever let Skulker’s sorry ass take my freaking head. Now are you gonna leave peacefully or are you gonna start doing donuts on the rooftop?”.
“That second one sounds pretty solid but I don’t feel like dealing with your head falling back off because that looks like a damn hack job”.
“Hey! You try fixing anything while blind, deaf, and unable to taste or smell!”.
“Damn”.
Danny chuckling, “I know, right? Now you leaving or?”, and making shooing motions.
Johnny smirks, revving his engine. Danny sighing mentally because he knows that translates to ‘let’s play tag, mother fucker’. Johnny shoots off with a, “depends if you can catch me, Phantom”. Typical.
“Damn it, Johnny!”. And now Danny’s off chasing Johnny and his stupid motorcycle. He rarely actually tries to shoot the guy because it feels like a dick move when all the guy generally does is street race and drive on roofs. Hell some of the twenty-something’s actually adored the biker and would race him; which fine Danny let slide because he thought it was a nice human/ghost bonding experience even if it was technically a crime. But hey, Danny’s existence was technically a crime too so why should he care anyways?
Plus, if he’s being honest, chase racing him was kinda fun, felt a little more like being his actual age again. It’s was practically play for him, which was slightly sad, but they only make it a few streets down and destroy one streetlight before Danny’s got Johnny souped. Danny flipping the thermos in the air a little sillily.
“Oh zone! are you okay!”.
Danny jerks in the air and looks somewhat down at the person that looked to be having tea on their balcony. “Yes, worry not citizen”.
Fuck Danny’s luck, the guy points at his own neck, “uh, you sure about that?”.
Crap. What should he say? “Worry not, it’s not fresh and is healing perfectly fine”. Danny salutes and basically flees the conversation. Especially since he heard the guy whisper about how ‘holy shit ghosts can get actual long term injuries???’. Not good.
He basically speed walks to his home ec class with Sam. Poking her a little hard and trying to ignore the stupid pain in his throat and the fact that he’s pretty sure headbutting a motorcycle bent on of the brackets Dash drilled to goddamn his neck, “a civilian noticed”.
“Well shit. Not surprised but still”, Sam shrugs, “well Tucker’s got any mentions of you set up to ping him so we’ll see if this person keeps things to themselves or not”.
After all, there really wasn’t much else any of them could do.
…
Does he get a ping from Tuck? Absolutely. It takes all of eight minutes. Danny groaning to himself, he’d thump his head on the table but that would probably hurt something fierce.
Treft26fu: @ whoever DECAPITAED Phantom, you suck and he is weirdly okay with it
Treft26fu: or maybe whoever just wrapped a cord around his neck and TRIED to decapitate him
Treft26fu: anyway this just in ghosts can get proper people like injuries
The guy goes on a tangent for a while actually. Tuck’s managed to actually block the comments from being visible to anyone, thank fuck. Tuck throwing a proper text his way.
Geek: what do you want me to do if he notices no one’s responding to his comments?
Danny humming to himself, the vibrations down his throat aren’t great but aren’t bad either. Well most people would be annoyed if they found out Phantom was silencing them or someone else.
Ghost: pretend to be the G.I.W. silencing people from releasing ghosts are sentient feeling beings
Geek: *snort* nice. So that’s ’I’ll take anti-G.I.W. propaganda for $100’.
Ghost: I’ll take subtle beginning of an uprising for $200
Geek: creating deepfakes in 3… 2.. 1.
Danny just rolls his eyes at the guy not responding after that. Mrs. Canecher snapping, “eyes up here, Fenton”, startling him a little and making him jerk; more than a few people laugh at him. Jerks.
At least he makes it through the rest of his class, goddamn.
Of course that’s exactly when shit goes south. In the form of one Dash Baxter… again kinda. Dash bodily shouldering him into the wall as soon as Danny makes it out of the classroom. And of course Danny winces from that, because getting bashed into a wall is kind of jarring to the fucking bolts and staples in his fucking neck, thank you very much Dash.
Dash’s sneer is practically a growl, even if his eyes don’t really look to be in it, “aw look at little pathetic Fen-tiny flinching from a wall. How ‘bout I give you a real reason to flinch from me”.
Dash grabbing his sweater collar and yanking him up off the ground at the same time as both Danny and Sam snap, “don’t!”.
Dash of course scoffs at their attempt to stop him, sneering down at Danny and ramming him into the wall. Danny closing an eye, wincing, and hissing in pain and frustration. Why did Dash have to be such a fucking jerk all the time? And oh great it feels like that bent bit of metal bracket is being pressed into a fucking vein or something since a quarter of his neck is going numb and fuzzy. Fucking ow. He can feel some portions of nails getting pushed deeper into his skin and blood welling up around them. Wheezing, “put me, down, Dash”; wow his voice sounded extra shit. Like he’d gone and rubbed sand paper on all the nail cuts.
Then Sam, his boss ass him-damned friend, has her boot off and wielded in record time, fully prepared to beat Dash with it regardless of Danny making it very clear he doesn’t want his friends doing that shit to Dash or any other bullies for his sake. He’d rather himself be bullied than anyone weaker/more fragile. Hopefully the fact that she’s doing that when she normally doesn’t is enough to make Dash realise that she’s serious and he needs to fuck off.
Course Dash doesn’t even seem to notice, instead glaring down at a glaring Danny. Which at first makes Danny think this is some ‘dominance’ crap where Dash is just trying to get him ‘scared’ and get him to ‘back down’ and act meek. But a second or two going by and Dash’s glare looking progressively more horrified, gets Danny to actually slap Dash’s wrist off of him.
Shit.
Okay.
Flee?
Flee.
The second Danny’s feet are back on the ground he grabs Sam’s wrist and books it; Dash too stunned to do anything till Danny’s got them around a corner. Danny turning the two of them invisible immediately so he can tenderly put a few fingers up to his throat and wheezing in pain.
Sam whispering, “you good”. Danny shaking his head, blinking away a bit of tearing, and whispering back, “honestly no. He’s, he’s, probably, the worst, person to, notice, this”.
“Considering it’s his handy work?”.
Danny winces a little, nodding slightly and being mildly pissed at the way that pulls on the staples.
Both stilling and staring when Dash, still looking a little horrified, appears around the corner and looks around, him frowning in confusion, “what? Where?”. When he seems sold on currently being alone he stares at the ground, then at his slightly shaking hands, and mutters, “am I just hallucinating now?”, and actually curls in on himself a little as he walks off quickly.
Great. Now Danny feels bad. He’s not trying to make Dash question his own sanity! Ugh. And then Danny feels something hard and definitely metal drop in his throat, instantly sending him into a coughing fit, and practically collapsing to the floor in pain; he absolutely drops the invisibility without really paying any attention to having done so. Sam following him down to ground, worried.
Of course all this results in Dash basically rushing back to see Danny kneeling on the ground, one hand on his throat and another on the ground, while Sam is rubbing his back and glaring bloody murder at the returning jock.
Danny coughs up the end of one of the fucking bolts, it clinking on the ground is extremely loud and it fucking rolls away because of course it does, rolls away right into Dash’s shoe. The clink of it falling over feels like a thunderclap while Danny’s still wheezing and screwing his face up in pain.
At least no one’s in the hallway now, having moved quickly off to their classes the second Sam started actually threatening Dash with her boot; her wrath was well-feared, good. She’d be proud, if Danny wasn’t currently groaning into the floor.
Danny lifting up his head enough to eye Dash staring down at the bolt end touching his foot, Danny deciding fuck it and flopping onto his back on the ground with a wet cough and wince. Sam glancing down at him, “you going to just lay there?”, then going back to staring at Dash.
Danny groans again, absolutely crying a little, “I, am ’ever, lettin’, ‘one bolt, my fuckin’, ’eck, agin”.
Dash fucking squeaks of all things and shuffles over to stare down at Danny, cautiously avoiding the glaring goth. Danny glares at Dash without much feeling, “what? Go’, any ‘ore insuls, to ‘row, my ‘ay?”, coughing wetly and wiping at his mouth with a sleeve, careful not to jostle his head, “or ‘eel, like tossin’, e ‘round, ‘ore?”.
Dash blinks harshly and speaks again, “Phantom? You… coughed up a bolt end”, the guy is fiddling with the damn corroded off bolt end, the green burning on it is very stark. Why the fuck was the guy fiddling with that thing? Ugh.
Sam jerking out a hand, glaring at the jock, “give it and go away”.
“What? I- no! Screw off Manson!”. Ah Dash sounds slightly more normal now. Still freaked but not weirdly flat anymore.
Danny snickers, wincing from his throats bullshit, “I ‘ean, ur the one, eno ‘rewed my, ‘roat”.
Sam groans immediately at him, “goddamn it, Danny”.
Even Dash winces down at him, “Zone fuck, holy shit, you’re… Phantom?”, the guy drops the bolt and runs his hands through his hair, “oh zone I reattached Fenton’s head, zone”. Sam running after the rolling bolt, “damn you too, Dash”. Danny has faith she’ll get it before it causes any issues. Dash is busy pacing in circles currently so…
Yeah. Not helpful.
Fuck his neck felt kinda totally raw in spots and based on the wetness on the back of his neck and head he’s gonna guess he’s making a bit of a puddle of blood. Fun. Ow. Wheezing, “this, this is, ‘finitly the ‘econd, wors’ ‘jury, I’ve had”. He can feel one of the holes in his throat sliding back and forth across the length of the bolt when he talks or swallows. This is hell a little bit.
Dash stops and crouches down on his ankles near Danny’s head staring at him but only kinda seeing him, “second? Worst?”, sputtering, “decapitation? Is second place? What? And I’m? Staring down at Phantom?”, blinking harshly, “Fenton’s-your Phantom?”.
Sam comes back and smacks Dash over the head, “you better keep that to yourself, jackass, now help me move Danny to a bathroom or else”, and grabs one of Danny’s arm, Danny just smacking her with the other as a way to give it over. At least Dash jerks up harshly and does grab his ankles, because yeah Danny’s not standing up right now, not a chance. Dash muttering, “never met your heroes, you might have to put their head back on and find out they’ve been letting you beat them up”.
Danny, with his head resting on one arm so he doesn’t have to strain his -very injured and still stitching itself back together- neck muscles to hold his head up, “gla’ ta see yur handlin’ tis well”. As it is, all this being moved crap is making him feel like one of the staples has popped out partly and is just swinging around tugging on bits of still attached skin.
“Danny, shut up before you jack your throat up even more”. Danny huffing an extremely cold breath at her for that. Her glaring down at him, “jerk”, he can tell her hearts not really in the insult though which was absolutely because he was being an ass purely because his throat felt like it was trying to rekill him and AND now someone has basically figured his shit out. Ugh.
At least they make it into the bathroom, without anyone noticing. Of course the door swings back open the second it closes though, it’s Tuck thank everything; meanwhile Sam vaguely gently puts Danny’s arms, and thus head and neck and upper back, down. Sam and Tuck rounding on Dash who’s still holding Danny’s ankles up for some dumb reason, they point aggressively at the jock, growling, “you”.
Danny wheezing from his less than comfortable position only halfway laying on the floor, “‘ash, if ya ‘on’t, put me ‘own, Imma, ‘ick ya”. Dash doesn’t even react to Sam’s and Tuck’s fingers pointing in his face so Danny absolutely intangibly frees an ankle from the guys hand and kicks him one in the chin; Dash sputtering and dropping Danny’s other ankle immediately.
At least he’s now back entirely on the ground, the nice cold sweet ground. The faint metallic plink on the ground absolutely means he definitely lost a staple though, way too quiet to have been a whole ass bolt; plus he’s pretty sure there’d have to be a big gapping hole for one of those to actually fall through a hole in his skin then onto the floor. The plink also getting Tuck’s attention, him lifting Danny’s head up gingerly and pocketing the kinda eroded staple, Danny doesn’t even look at him, “today is ‘hit”.
Tuck ruffles his hair quickly, “and you sound like shit”, before standing back up and crossing his arms at Dash.
“Ya rye ahvin’ a suck in’ ‘roat wound”.
Sam sighs, explaining to Tuck for Danny, “he coughed up a bolt end and even though I told him to stop talking he won’t shut up”, glaring at Dash more aggressively, “so?”. While Tuck gives Danny a chastising, “dude”. Danny just shrugging his shoulders, wincing at the neck movement, and going back to staring emptily at the bathroom ceiling.
He really shouldn’t have come to school. Like at all. Absolutely terrible decision. Stupid him. Stupid stupid him. Ugh.
Dash’s swallow is loud and makes Danny internally cringe at how much swallowing that aggressively would hurt right now. “So the thing I gave myself a massive hangover over has come back to haunt me on Fenton’s neck, what the fuck”.
Danny blinks, wheezing instead of chuckling, “ah. Ya ‘ctually raid-ed, folk’ lior’ cabnet?”.
Sam and Tuck giving him judgemental looks, while Dash throws his hands out baffled, “I spent an hour shaking and stapling my heroes neck what of course I did-what-oh-my-zone-this-is-a-nightmare”, and starts pacing in circles again.
Tuck chuckles though, eyeing the jock, “are you saying that because Phantom’s Fenton or because of having to deal with a horrific injury”.
“Both!”, Dash stops and gestures aggressively at the geek, “both”, sticking both arms down at Danny, “how even? Zone fuck did your parents experiment on you or something?”, screwing up his face and seemingly speaking more so to himself, “can I get away with beating the Fenton’s up?”.
Danny snorts, wincing, “ow fuck. Naw, my ‘ad, will ‘reak you, ‘ike a ‘ooth-ick, ‘ash”.
“That doesn’t mean he will!”, shaking his arms at Danny, “you didn’t”,
Sam scowls down at Danny, “Danny, shut. Up”, then walking closer to Dash and pointing a finger right in Dash’s face, “one, Danny will be mad if you try to fight his dad. Two, he’ll stop you and fuck his throat up more anyways. Three, it was an accident that you have no damn right to know anything about you asshat. Four-”, signing and dropping her hand, “-my opinion of you just, unfortunately, went up a notch”.
Danny blinking and turning his head, ow, enough to look at her, “oily ‘hit”,
“Shut. Up”.
Danny huffs at her, pushing himself to sit upright with some effort, pointing at Dash then shrugging and dropping his hand.
Dash blinks, “how are you so calm if you’re not dead”.
Tuck groaning, “oh he is dead, just not entirely”.
“That makes zero sense, loser”.
Danny is having none of that, he lifts a hand up again and ecto-blasts the bathroom stall next to Dash’s head. Dash jumps, squeaks, and slowly looks to stare at Danny wide-eyed. Danny quirking an eyebrow, “bad”.
“I- um- okay?”, Dash still sounds squeaky, looking at Sam and Tuck, “holy shit you’re sidekicks”.
For once both Sam and Tuck facepalm for a reason other than Danny being a dumbass. Tuck laughing while Sam sighs, “yes, Dash, obviously”, gesturing at Danny who grins dumbly, “you really think we’d let this dumbass do shit on his own? He’d do something stupider than he usually does”, grimacing at Danny, “Danny, you’re leaking again”.
This time it’s Tuck sighing and grabbing some paper towel to clean Danny’s throat and mouth off. Danny’s almost tempted to wheeze really hard to maybe get blood splattered around but that would be really dumb and really painful for no good fucking reason. He just really hates today and his stupid body right now. Grinning instead, “‘ink ya can un’end a bracke’? Kinda ‘ill ’on’t have feelin’ in ‘art of mi ‘eck”.
Tuck glares at him, “what”, sighing disbelievingly, “you shoulda mentioned that immediately, man. Why do you do this shit to us and yourself”.
Dash flinching, “did I mess up?”, while Tuck moves around to where Danny’s tapping his neck. Danny shrugging, “I ‘ean, num’ ‘eans naw pain, sew”, and shrugs. And sure, part of his mouth was also numb which wasn’t great but hey at least the pain is mostly only radiating from other sections of his neck, giving him one little area of relief.
Sam gestures at Danny though still staring at Dash, “see what I mean. A Dumbass”.
Dash actually nods agreeingly, jerk, before backing up a step or two when Tuck pulls out his personal media kit and one of those sharp art knives from inside, tweezers too but that was probably less startling to the jock. “Going to have to rip a few out, man. And probably cut some stuff”. Him yanking out a staple actually takes so much effort Tuck falls on his back.
Danny cringing, ow, “my ‘ody sure ha’ attichme’ isdues, huh?”. Tuck pushing himself up and clamping down on another staple, “you suck. Sam you wanna help instead of glaring Dash out of existence?”.
The goth huffs, points aggressively at Dash, “you. Stay”, before moving over and grabbing the wannabe scalpel; Danny gripping his knees at the almost feeling of sharp metal on skin.
Oh great it kinda looks like Dash is shaking a bit again. Lovely. But the guy shakes himself off somewhat and actually comes over to help, sorta help at least, too. Grabbing Danny’s shoulders to, Danny guesses, keep him steady.
Danny absolutely feels the second Sam, or Tuck he’s not looking, gets the metal unbent. Him jerking forward, a hand to his neck and headbutting Dash’s chest, “ow! Fuck! Shit! Agh!”. Okay note to self, no pain for a while thanks to numbness equals sudden intense pain when numbness goes goodbye bye. Ow. Why is he so stupid? And Dash is so startled he doesn’t even move or do anything more than huff like he just got the wind knocked out of him which he probably did; Dash falling on his ass seconds later, “shit Fenton! Ow!”.
Sam moving quickly to stitch up the hole she had to cut in him to get good enough access to fix his shit, “stay still, your lucky you didn’t rebend the thing”, grumbling to herself, “at least that jerk bought solid brackets”.
Dash wheezing a little and rubbing his chest, “I wasn’t going to patch freaking Phantom up with cheap shit he’d break in a fight”.
Tuck getting up to clean things, and himself, off in the sink, “that’s actually smart, congrats”, eyeing Sam and Danny, “how’d it get bent anyways”.
Sam growling without looking away from the work she’s almost done, “Dash here slammed him into a wall”.
Danny, kinda staring at Dash as something to do and trying to ignore the pain and pulsing, “actulie I head’utted Jon’s ‘ike”,
“Why would you do that!”.
“Acci’en’! Gosh!”.
Sam huffing, “well the wall didn’t help”, then looking at Dash as she cleans her own hands, “like I said, he’s a dumbass”.
Dash nods slowly, “yeah”, looking down at Danny, who’s just sitting on the ground slightly curled in on himself, “is, are you gonna be good? And why did this hurt but not me drilling your spine?”.
Tuck actually gives Dash a supportive backhanded swat on the arm, grinning, “don’t worry about it, he heals like a beast. Also, he doesn’t feel pain as Phantom”.
Danny straightening out some and stretching, wincing at the throat hole moving over the exposed bolt again, “a ‘essing and curs’”, and promptly coughing again, spitting up metal bits, at least he caught all the shreds and corroded bits in his hand this time. Grimacing at the mess of spit, blood, and metal; getting up with a stagger to wash his hand off, “ew”.
Dash gestures aggressively at Danny as Danny turns around to eye him, “I wouldn’t call that ‘healing’ at all!”.
“Dude, ya re-atta-ed mi ‘ead! Imma ‘ay Imma doin’ a damn ‘ood job”. Oh hey, it’s slightly easier to talk now, cool. It feels like that one hole is closing up now, that musta been where the metal he was just coughing up came from.
Dash opens and closes his mouth, humming and shrugging after a beat, “yeah I guess that would kill most people, huh”. Danny wheeze laughing as Sam and Tuck shout, “YES!”, at that.
No one says anything for a bit until Danny clears his throat, which was dumb to do, and winces. At least one throat hole is gone now, he is so not going to class until he apparently coughs up the other bolt end. “Okay. So. We ‘ood?”.
Tuck grinning at Danny, “well you sound slightly better”.
Danny shrugging, “bye bye ‘aping throat wound”. Tuck gives him a thumbs up like a real friend. Then, of course, he feels the other bolt end inside his throat fall, fuck. That of course causes another coughing fit that sends him to the ground again, Tuck and Sam rushing over to pat his back hard till the damn bolt gets coughed up. Danny just groaning and rolling to lay on his back again, “mevar ‘ind”.
Dash wheezes, “I- um, we’re good. Yeah we’re good. But if I ever run up on an injured Phantom I’m calling your idiot friends since I clearly suck at it”,
Tuck waving Dash off, “Dash, none of us would have known what to do with a decapitation. That was a first for Danny-dude”.
“Yay ‘or mi”, Danny shaking away a few tears, man his body was an asshole. Sitting up enough to look at Dash more properly, “ya ‘id ‘ood”.
Sam snapping, “no he did not!”.
Danny pointing aggressively at her,“tis ’raight an’ ha-n’t fallen oof”.
“That doesn’t mean much”.
“Be ‘orse it I ‘ried to mi ‘elf!”.
“Your head would be backwards and upside down somehow if you did it yourself, moron”,
Danny flips her off. Dash actually chuckles though, “this is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever been in, wow”, then collapsing against a bathroom stall, which causes the doors to open, which results in Dash falling backward with a yelp and fucking knocking himself out with the toilet.
You.. you gotta be kidding? Seriously? Danny blinks, “‘eri-yous-lie?”. Sam actually bursts out laughing while Tuck runs over to help get Dash out of the stall, him snapping, “don’t you even try to think about helping, Danny”.
“Eh I ‘ink I ‘elped enou’ bi ‘ockin’ ‘im out”.
“No”.
“Yes”.
Sam and Tuck glare at each other before laughing, all three of them winding up on the floor laughing, or wheezing in Danny’s case. Dash groaning from the floor a few seconds later, “did I just get knocked out by a toilet?”.
Sam snorts, smirk showing in her voice, “yup”.
“That’s really hilarious actually”, Dash shakes his head, “if I wasn’t probably high on Advil my head would kill me”.
“Hey, at ‘east ‘vil actu-eel ‘orks on ya”.
Dash snorts, “that’s rough man”.
“Eel mi ‘out it”.
“I have no idea what you just said”.
“Piss oof”.
Danny and Tuck pushing themselves to sit up, meaning that now everyone’s basically just sitting in a sorta circle in a men’s bathroom. Cool. Man his throat is killing him though. The fresh stitches on the back left side of his neck stand out in the swath of pain pretty noticeably, why? Because they hurt less. A staple gun was never, ever, getting added to the medi kits; Ancients.
Tuck eyeing Dash, “so, are you actually going to keep your mouth shut about this? About finding out your idols secret identity?”.
Dash puts up his hands, “I’m not Wes, I’m not that stupid”, flushing a little, “but I definitely did tell Kwan about, uh”, gesturing awkwardly at Danny, “patching you? up? Yeah”.
Danny shrugs, trying not to move his neck with the motion, it kinda works, “eh, figs”.
Tuck chuckling and shaking his head, “he means ‘figures’, which yeah even Sam can’t blame you for venting to your best friend, that would be a dick move. Right Sam”.
Sam scowls, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, before sighing, “fine. It really would be”. Danny giving her and the jock thumbs up, because yeah, talking was not helping his healing ass like at all.
Dash chuckles awkwardly, “yeah, Kwan’s the best”.
Sam sighing, “Kwan will also realise Danny’s Phantom if he sees”, rubbing her temples, “meaning we still have a jock to keep an eye out for”.
Absently, Danny knows it would be a massive dick move to force Dash to keep this from his best friend. Granted Sam and Tuck might also beat him if he gives the jock the go ahead to tell Kwan. But unfortunately Dash continues, “and he did tell Star, who told Paulina, who, uh, told all the cheerleaders, who probably told everyone”.
Sam glares murderously at Dash then Danny, “I’m going to kill him”.
Danny pouting, “‘am, it is ‘ery rude ta ‘reaten ta kill some-on in ‘ront of a ‘hos’”; and then spits up some metal and just rubs it on his pants, he’ll wash them later maybe. All three grimace at him. Whatever.
“Um, let me point out that they did tell everyone and I did not expect to witness hardcore medical drama and hear mind breaking info when I decided to take a smoke break inside for a change. Hi”.
All four jerk and slowly look at the guy peaking out from a slightly open bathroom stall door. Well. Damn it. Screw his existence entirely. Dash and Sam getting up instantly and both looking ready to beat this guy into silence for Danny’s sake. Aw, they’re bonding over murderous intent, how utterly evil and adorable. Meanwhile, Danny decided fuck it and grabs out his phone. Moving to the Amity Teens chat:
thealivedanny: those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move
Haleykaley: that’s ominous hot shit
Bailnwail: has Fentons phone been possessed again?
Tuck’s phone pings, “Danny… why did my phone just ping the sound it does when you message a public chat?”.
“Eye do ya hav’ a ‘iose spec-fy for mi?”.
“I’ve had one ever since someone accidentally messaged the very public gaming chat a death threat meant for Vlad and a picture of your broken arm with exposed bone”, Tuck glancing at his phone, “ah you’re just terrorising the masses, I see”.
The guy comes out of the bathroom stall entirely, hands up at the goth and jock, “hey I ain’t my fault you guys didn’t do a sweep of the place before starting your soap opera medical drama”.
Danny holding up a finger, “echly it’s a super-atura drame”.
“Debatable”, the guy clears his throat, “look it doesn’t really look like there’s any point in silence here but I ain’t no fucking punk ass snitch”, dropping his hands and shrugging, “just ignore me stealing baby formula for my kid brother and we good”.
Danny pushing himself to stand up, his throat felt less hole filled now, “man, I’a eel tha’ shit fer ya”. Then glancing at his phone when it pings, it’s freaking Dash in the teen chat room.
Football king: those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move
Danny looking at the jock with a quirked eyebrow, said jock gives him a slightly too wide-eyed thumbs up, “you, uh, seem to have this covered so I’m going to go drown myself-”.
“Didn’ ta toile do tha’ ger ya already?”.
“In Advil, Fen-taco or Danny, whatever”.
Danny snorts, wincing a little, “eh don’ ‘ange. An’ ‘on’t haveta craw to hospit”.
“Screw you, oh this is stupid”, Dash scowling, “and like the guy who crawled into a refrigerator should have any say”.
Tuck eyeing Danny, “oh you told him your stupid rum cereal story?”.
“He ‘ad plans ta get ‘runk, it wah apple-cable!”:
The dude wheeze laughs, “fucking ‘apple cable’, nice”. Danny absolutely flips him off, but the guy smiles, “nice to know our little hero is a dumbass”.
Sam eyes him and decides he passes whatever mental test she was giving him, “yeah. Yeah he is”.
Danny rolling his eyes and looking at his phone, at least nine more people have posted the same ‘those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move’ message. Well shit. Okay. Well… at least Danny’s got a clue for how many people have seen and just fucking put two and two together to get four. Wes also threw in a ‘those whose eyes see have mouths that do move’, because he’s an ass. Fucking Wes, goddamn. No chill. At least a ton of people respond back either insulting or threatening Wes. Good. And Dash also leaving shaking his head is probably good too.
The guy eyes them before jabbing a thumb towards the bathroom stall he came out of, “am I cool to finish my cigarette? Since I put that shit out as soon as you guys hauled ass in here?”.
Sam sighing, her, Tuck, and Danny all exchanging shrugs before Sam gives the guy a go ahead, “sure fine, whatever. But yeah, that snitches get stitches and wind up in ditches thing can absolutely be very literal”.
“Tell that to the whole school then”.
“I will”. Sam basically grabs Tuck and Danny and drags them out of the bathroom. Her grumbling at Tuck as she continues dragging them, likely to their next class, “how bad is it”.
Tuck speaking while scrolling through his phone, “bad, there’s really no way to keep a cap on this”.
Danny hums, which doesn’t hurt nearly as much now that the bolts aren’t inside his throat. Pulling out his phone and dropping a link to one of the many videos of his folks ranting about ‘evil ghosts’ in the chat. Which gets the chat bombarded with ‘THOSE WHOSE EYES SEE HAVE MOUTHS THAT DON’T MOVE’ and he’s pretty pleased with himself over that.
Tuck snorting as Sam pulls them to their seats, “smooth dude, now everyone who didn’t already know, knows it had to do with ghosts, GrEaT iDeA”. Oh the sarcasm was thick there.
Sam pulling out her own phone and scrolling, smacking Danny on the arm, it would have been a head slap if his neck wasn’t still fucked, “idiot! But ugh, at least it seems like it’ll keep people quiet. At least from the Fenton’s and maybe adults in general”.
Tuck shaking his head, “yeah, I still don’t get why all the adults have such a hard time seeing that, at the very least, Phantom’s good”.
Sam growling right back, “because they’re stupid and think that just because they’re adults and we’re kids that there’s no way they could be wrong and us right. And that if kids all agree on or do something then it must be dumb, wrong, or immature”.
Lily turning to face them, “a lot of us also do stupid shit, case and point”, pointing at Danny, “you coming to school with a barely attached head that looks awful holy shit”.
Ah crap, Danny mildly panicky readjusts up his turtleneck, fuck him so much. Tuck and Sam just sigh tiredly at this point, and another ‘those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move’ gets added to the chat. But the girl grins at him, “you could totally get an awesome tat to cover that though”, leaning over, “I know a guy”.
What?
Sam is interested immediately, “oh do tell, I’ve been dying to get some webs on my shoulders”, grinning evilly, “especially because my parents will stop trying to stick me in strapless dresses then”.
The two girls absolutely do exchange info while one of the cheer leaders, Brittney he thinks, be-lines to his desk. Shit shit shit. But all she does is slam down a thing of lozenges, “here, we use these after practices and games since all that cheering makes for a wicked sore throat”. Danny is confused, “thanks?”. She cringes, “wow you do need them”, smirking, “at least you sound like a gruff musician now”; and walks off to her seat.
Apparently everyone takes that as a sign to give Danny stuff, because goddamn everyone brings him something and by the time the teacher shows up Danny has a little mound of random trinkets and things on his desk. Sam and Tuck are wheeze laughing at him. The teacher quirks an eyebrow at him, “Mr. Fenton?”.
“I’m a ‘agon apparently and tis my horde”.
“Are you sick?”.
“No physicals but in da head prob”.
The teacher rolls her eyes at him before starting the lesson. He spends the entire class getting bombarded by direct messages.
‘Get lots of sleep’
‘There’s some stupid powerful muscle relaxers in my locker’
‘West side bathrooms water is green again so don’t use that to wash up’
‘Do you have enough food’
‘I’m giving Dash first aid lessons against his will for you’
‘You want some apple pie’
‘Whoever did that is going down in my notes as ‘head stealing asshole’ forever more’
‘I cleaned your blood up, no worries’
‘You want more losengezes’
‘I’m making everyone sign a get well soon card bye the bye, it’s glittery and cute’
‘There’s balloons in your locker now, open when most chaotic for maximum chaos’
‘I will cry on your shoulder to feed you emotions if that’s a real thing ghosts do’
‘I’ve got a great emotion support ferret if you want something to pet’
‘I shall supply you with an alarming amount of soothing teas’
And on and on it went, he had to put his phone on silent for fucks sake! It was kinda cute and nice though. Even if it seemed like the entire school had now decided to baby him. And as soon as class ends he gets jumped by one of the drama kids, who throws gauze around his neck.
Danny sputtering and taking a ‘no limbs are allowed to touch’ stance, the gauze hanging like a scarf, “why!?”.
“To wrap it so it doesn’t get infected, obviously”. The kid just walks away.
Tuck, looking at his phone, chuckles, “dude, you’ve been given the ‘is baby’ role”. Danny just pouts and pulls the gauze off from the back of his neck. This wasn’t useful for him, he’d dissolve it, but hey the sentiment was nice.
Jasper chuckling as he comes out of the classroom behind them, “yeah because you’re not taking care of yourself apparently”.
Someone actually gives him a whole ass pie in the hallway before the trio manages to get to their next class, he’s pretty sure they all actually missed lunch somewhere in the time they were dealing with Dash. So hey, free food! Definitely appreciated. Even if he hunches over it to make the fact that he’s just phasing pieces into his stomach not super obvious, and it’s not as good as Skulker’s but the teacher doesn’t give him shit for eating in class beyond glaring… which half the class glares right back at the teacher for.
Then, of course, his ghost sense goes off. Fuck him entirely. Hand shooting up, “bathroom”, and him fucking off. This time he’s careful about potential headbuttable objects when he phases his head through the school roof.
By the time he finds the ghost, it’s Technus annoyingly, there’s not much for him to do. Why? Because at least twelve teens and goddman twenty little kids are kicking and throwing things at the ghost and shouting about leaving Phantom alone. Technus is actually curled up crying, “I CAME TO CHECK ON HIM! PLEASE STOP SMALL CHILDREN!”.
Danny is so fucking confused.
Him floating down slowly, “uh? Whatcha doin’?”.
One of the teens stops, huffing, “well you need to heal, dontcha? Literally no one’s actually seen you with an injury that lasts more than a few seconds”, shrugging, “so no fighting for you”.
Is… is this how he’s going to have to tell the town that he actually likes getting into fights? Oh man, awkward. “I enjoy it though”.
“You are injured. No fighting. In fact-”, the girl digs in her pocket and holds out some tickets to him, “-you shouldn’t even be in school. Go have fun at that little petting zoo in Elmerton”.
Danny takes them because it would be rude not to, right. Blinking at the whimpering ghost, “I’m… still gonna soup him”.
“That’s what you call it? That’s adorable”.
Danny blushes and quickly captures the beaten miserable ghost, immediately leaving. Making it back to class at the same time that Sam and Tuck get bodily pushed out of it. Danny blinking at them, “uh?”.
Sam shakes her head fondly, “apparently we’re supposed to go to a petting zoo?”. Tuck chuckling, “we’ve also been given firm instructions to swaddle you, but I am not caring you around in a teenager sized fabric baby swaddle”; he actually holds up a bunch of fabric.
Danny blinks harshly, “what”, shaking his head and holding up the tickets, “some kids were curb stomping Technus mosh pit style. I’m legit a little touched”. Sam gives an impressed whistle before snagging the tickets, shrugging, and dragging both boys off. Guess they are indeed going to a petting zoo.
“Hey good morning guys, welcome to the Elmerton petting zoo. We’ve got brushes and some treats to the side, or you can just give them pet downs and love with your hands and hearts; everyone here is super friendly, though Flapjacks the black goat is a headbutter”.
Sam snorts eyeing Danny, “you’re a goat, Danny”.
“Goated, you mean”.
She absolutely smacks him for that.
The lady continues, “most places won’t let you hand feed but we gave up on that because you Amity kids are a nightmare and never follow rules”.
Tuck snorting, “how’d you know we’re Amity Parkers”.
“You’re skipping school boldly and look dead inside, obvious tell”. Danny absolutely doubles over wheeze laughing at that, a rabbit sniffs him cautiously.
“And just like goats, you guys are always finding new and interesting ways to nearly kill yourselves. Muffintail got stuck upside down in a random bucket last night and screamed bloody murder till one of the dogs got him out”, pointing to some signs, “we have more neat info about goats over there besides their desire to die”.
Danny snickers, smirking at Sam and Tuck, “Muffintail huh? ‘It’s muffin time, who wants a muffin, please I just wanna die. Please somebody kill me, please it’s muffin time’”.
Tuck wheezes, “fuck that’s so old Danny, zone damn it”. The petting zoo lady laughs to herself too.
Sam wandering off to grab some carrots and poking the roasters with them, at least the roosters actually eat said carrots. A peacock jumps on her head though, Danny and Tuck both absolutely taking a photo of that shit. The zoo lady smiling at that before speaking up again, “before you start wandering around too much, Amity Parker’s aren’t allowed in the horse or deer area since all that ghost smell freaks them out. Please don’t scare our horses and deers. And since there’s blood on your sweater, please leave the wolves alone as they will bite you”.
Tuck laughs while Danny’s face heats up something fierce, he absolutely didn’t bring a spare sweater though so… Danny muttering, “I forgot about that”. Tuck patting his back before he does actually wonder off to bother the other rabbits.
Of course the second Danny’s left up to his own devices he immediately gets rammed in the back by a black goat, which proceeds to walk on his back when he falls over. The petting zone lady scolding it, “Flapjacks no”, when the goat physically jumps up and down on him. Sam absolutely got a video and sent it to the teen chat along with a ‘can’t go anywhere with this dumbass’. There’s mass responses of ‘bad goat!’ and one person commenting that ‘oh I know that one, he’s called flapjacks because he’s a jackass’. The lady does get Flapjacks off him long enough for him to get swarmed by curious bunnies, Tuck following after and laughing at the bunny pile that Danny’s become. That also goes into the chat and gets far more ‘cute’ responses.
The amount of time Danny gets followed around by bunnies is adorable and weird, Danny blinking at his bunny herd, “I think bunnies like me”. Tuck pouting, “I want the bunny love”; Danny gives the guy a bunny, it kicks him immediately. Poor Tuck, Danny snickers at him.
Sam walking over with an owl in her arms, the petting zoo lady looking confused in the distance. “You would think bunnies would hate you, since you’re basically a predator”.
“I don’t eat ghosts, Sam”.
Tuck snickering, “You should, get that ecto”.
“Ew! Tucker!”, Sam smacks the geek, “they are sentient beings!”.
“And sentient beings are delicious, my point stands”.
“Blood mouth”.
Danny laughing at the mild argument, laughing until one of the bunnies decides to bite him right in the fucking throat, “augh! ow what the fuck!”, the bunny runs of with a staple in its mouth. “No no no no no no no no, give that back!”. Danny winces and chases after the bunny even with bits of pain shooting up the side of his neck now; it was doing a pretty good job of healing. Was.
It takes ten minutes of him, Sam, and Tuck chasing the bunny for Sam to catch it and get the semi-dissolved severely ecto-contaminated staple out of the bunnies teeth. The bunny is very mad about loosing its prize and immediately starts biting Danny’s shoes. Danny huffing, holding a bit of fabric to his neck to stem the renewed bleeding, asking the petting zoo lady, “what’s that one’s name?”.
“I Eat My Cereal Dry”.
“Well I Eat My Cereal Dry is a dick”.
She laughs at that at least, while the trio continues wandering around the area.
Lindsey thinks that outside of the bitey rabbit and back-butting goat the whole trip turns out pretty good for the three kids. Sure after school let’s out the place basically gets swarmed by Casperhigh students to the point where the place hits max capacity. She’s frankly flabbergasted and vaguely overwhelmed, especially when most of the students are more interested in the kid with the extremely disturbing neck injury that keeps getting harassed by bunnies.
Like… they’re damn near hand feeding the kid more than the animals, giving him head pats and arm pats and back pats; Millie the goat gets jealous and starts trying to get them to stay away from the boy. Adorable but strange.
At least none of them go near the horses or deers.
Thankfully Danny’s able to go home without running into his parents or any ghosts, seemingly Techus or Johnny or Boxy told everyone to fuck off; Technus getting ganged up on was probably a pretty solid warning to most since everyone really only wanted to fight Phantom specifically or cause random chaos, not get assaulted by children with severely brutalised senses of danger.
Zone, he even makes it through the night uninterrupted for a change!
And checking his throat out in the mirror in the morning, moving it around and prodding at the stitching, and scars from all the staples that have since dissolved. It still ached a bit but there’s no actual pain. The steel brackets are definitely still there because Dash went and grabbed thick ass fuckers but all the bolts are gone for sure, so swallowing and physically eating still made a bunch of pressure on his throat; meaning he’s still sticking to phasing food into his stomach instead of chewing shit.
Jazz bangs on the door a little aggressively, Danny sighing as it just pops open, her staring at his neck, “seriously? Are you okay?”.
Danny sighing again for good measure and rolling his eyes at her, “I am now, yes I know the scarring is gnarly, that’s because of a not super great patch job and not because of how bad the injury was”.
Jazz sighs shaking her head, “I saw the chat by the way”, her leaning on the doorframe, “so, everyone knows now, huh?”.
Danny groans exaggeratedly, he’d tilt his head back dramatically if he wasn’t still slightly injured, “just the teens thankfully”, eyeing her, “they're a lot better about ghosts than the towns adults”.
“You mean the Fenton’s”.
“I mean all of the adults, Jazz. Mom and dad… are just the worst of them”.
She hums at him, which he ignores, “are you even bothering to cover it up now?”.
He knows exactly why she’s asking that, he’s in just his standard simple long sleeve that he always wears nowadays meaning that everyone and anyone will be able to see the scars and bits that are still healing. But he grabs up a handkerchief from the counter, “I’m still covering it, just not really caring about whether I draw attention to it or not”. After all, adults generally won’t ask, teenagers definitely would have… if they didn’t all already know what was up.
“I still don’t like it”.
Danny huffing, “it’s not really your scar to like or show off or not, Jazz”. Zone, with this there was almost no point in bothering to hide any of his scaring anymore, but going bare arms might be pushing it right now, considering how severe some of the scaring was. Eh maybe someday, but not today. “It’s not like mom and dad will really notice”. She cringes but he doesn’t really care if she doesn’t like the honesty.
Jazz nods a little, “well I’m off, try to stay in school?”.
Danny waving her off as he’s grabbing up the handkerchief, “yeah yeah yeah, the ghosts have backed off to let me heal a little so I might be able to actually do that”, chuckling, “apparently decapitation is freaky to them. Who knew”. That does get a laugh out of her at least, before she fully leaves.
Danny not too far behind.
…
Sam and Tuck eye the handkerchief and chuckle to themselves. Sam smirking, “nice neck piece, bored of sweaters already?”.
“Pfft, you know how I like to keep things interesting”.
Kwan shouting, “Fenton! How’s your headless doll situation!”.
What? Danny looks to the jock, confused, “what are you even talking about, Kwan?”.
“You know, like that thing where a ladies head is held by a ribbon? Except you’ve got bolts and staples and thread?”.
Danny rolls his eyes, “that green ribbon story? That has nothing to do with dolls man, but it does have to do with dead people and a decapitation, I guess”, and shrugs, pointing to the handkerchief, “ain’t perfect but my heads almost fully reattached, nothing is actively holding anything on anymore”. At Kwan pointing at his own neck and tilting his head, Danny just assumes he’s asking further about his fashion choices, “it’s still healing, man, it looks gnarly”.
Kwan waves that answer off, “pssh, who cares. Scars make men of boys!”.
Danny, vaguely insulted, grabs the bottom of his shirt and yanks it up aggressively, gesturing at his torso and the aggressive amount of scaring there. Including the nasty, repeatedly reopened, and rarely stitched back together right, Y incision. “You sure about that one?”.
Kwan gapes a little, “dude, you are ripped”.
Of course that’s what he cares about, Danny facepalms immediately. Dropping his shirt and sighing, “I’m still not walking around with a fucking barely healed decapitation scar, Kwan”. The guy has the audacity to pout at him.
Then someone yells, “nice neck! You goof!”.
Danny chuckles to himself, everyone in this goddamn town was so fucking weird and he loved them for it.
He really only keeps up with wearing the handkerchief while shits healing and when he knows his folks are gonna be around, every single teen just seemed to think it was cool. He got lots of lanyards with pins to ‘decorate’ the scar, some weird handkerchiefs, Emilie even knitted him an infinity scarf. The one that made him laugh the most, and realise that things definitely were going to be just fine, was him getting mobbed by the art kids sticking temporary tattoos all around and over the scarring; it looked so damn silly seeing one of his gnarliest scars just covered in unicorns and seagulls and stars and an angry goat. Somehow everyone having fun with it and him not being bothered by it kept the adults from ever even trying to ask about it.
End.
PRompts: Tooth-rotting fluff occurs at Casper High after Danny's secret identity is revealed.
Identity reveal. Dash finds out Danny is Phantom. What happens? Could be swagger bishie or not, either or is okay.
Danny, Sam, and Tucker go to a petting zoo.
Danny receives an injury or scar that he can't easily hide in one form, let alone two.
#danny phantom#phandom#danny fenton#phicphight24#phic phight 24#phantomphangphucker#have a fic suck my dick#my writing#sam manson#tucker foley#phic phight#dash#gothmoth#injury#injuries#head injury#decapitation#scars#petting zoo#fan fic#phan phic#reveal#identity reveal#reveal fic#fluff
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death valley (m) | part 8
summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize
pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader
genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au
wordcount: 9.0k
warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important.
a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo.
part 0 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | series navi | masterlist |
F L A S H F O R W A R D--
Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.
You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?
The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth.
You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.
Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties.
His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.
His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.
Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment.
You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you.
Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe.
Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.
Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?
Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.
What exactly you were playing, you were unsure.
“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?”
You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh.
“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.
“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.
“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.
“With who Y/n?”
You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead.
“You. I was with you”
F L A S H B A C K--
The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape.
Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already.
It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?
Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.
There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer.
Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes.
Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more.
To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.
You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all.
When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.
Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead.
Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him.
But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him.
And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him.
Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago.
Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.
He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should.
He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?
He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.
Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now”
-
Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.
Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?
Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...
Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals.
“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”
Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.
“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.
“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?
“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing.
You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”
“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”
Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”
“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”
Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”
Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”
You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.
“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”
Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?
“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.
“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.
“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.
The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left.
Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”
You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.
“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”
You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.
You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”
Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his.
He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.
You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts.
“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.
He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down.
“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after.
His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.
“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”
He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.
"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”
He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out.
“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”
You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.
“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.
“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you.
“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”
His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”
“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”
You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease.
“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”
“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.
“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.
He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.
“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly.
You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady.
"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook”
You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”
-
Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.
“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.
“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.
“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.
“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”
Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”
Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”
-
You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you.
You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.
“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk”
You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”
Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”
You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”
He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”
The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.
“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.”
No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”
You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.
“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”
“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”
"No” You blurted.
“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”
As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.
Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.
Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life.
Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi.
-
“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”
“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”
Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”
“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”
Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.
“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.
“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”
Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees.
Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.
You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor.
Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good.
“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.
“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.
He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.
“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”
“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.
Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”
“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”
“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”
“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”
Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”
You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it.
Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.
He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.
He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more.
He slapped his palm onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place.
“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”
Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further.
“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow.
“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure.
“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly.
“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.
You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.
“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers.
You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.
On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.
-
Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious.
Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.
“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.
“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger.
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor.
“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”
Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis.
“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”
You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”
Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”
“Hold on!”
Too late. You pulled the trigger.
-
Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight.
So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.
He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel.
-
Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind.
Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him.
He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations.
You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.
“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.
Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.
“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.
“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself.
“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”
Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you.
“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his.
“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”
Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”
Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble.
P R E S E N T D A Y--
Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him.
After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.
The question remained how and why.
“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.
All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way
You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.
“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.
“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in.
You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.
“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”
The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.
“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.
You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.
That watch. That’s his watch.
Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?”
“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.
Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.
Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.
“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”
ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ
a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal?
smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.
see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth!
taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader smut#taehyung smut#taehyung x reader smut#yandere taehyung#dom!jungkook#yandere seokjin#yandere bts#yandere bts smut#bts smut#bangtan smut#bts smut recs#seokjin smut recs#jin x reader smut#bts mafia au#seokjin x reader smut#yandere!bts x reader#btswriterscollective#btswriters#jungkook smut recs#taehyung smut recs#ot7 x reader#ot7 x reader smut#yandere!bts x reader smut#bts smut central#bts smut net#yandere bts fics#jungkook fic recs#taehyung fic recs#dom!taehyung
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