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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Writing Prompt for this list, requested by @suddenlyinlove. #42. "His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow." and #30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Details - This is an AU with a twist I don't wanna spoil so like... suspend your disbelief please. Period-typical homophobia and thus, the use of slurs derogatorily. Stir clear if that is triggering.

Posted on Ao3 because it is long (9.7k) and it might be easier to read there for some.

August 25, 1984 - Two Days Before the Start of School

There's a good view of the whole party from their dark corner of the yard, where Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are huddled around him. Eddie'd told Carol Perkins he'd show but only if his friends could come, too. If she wanted weed, then his friends could have beer.

Plus, if he was going to suffer, they were going to suffer. That's what friendship was about.

"His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow," Eddie mutters, glaring in the general direction of Steve 'The Hair' Harrington as he laughs at something (he's clutching his beer awfully tight for someone having fun- Nope, Eddie doesn't care).

"Right? Can see it ballooning right before our eyes," Jeff says. This is why Jeff is his best friend. They hate on the same things. People. Whatever.

"Sorry for you guys," Eddie fakes sympathy, "once I graduate, I won't have to deal with it. Let me know if anyone shoves you into a locker though. I'll slash some tires or refuse to sale 'em weed. Whichever hurts them more."

"You said that last year," Gareth says. "And yet."

Eddie pretends to stab himself in the heart, falling to the ground dramatically, gasping like he was dying before finally stilling, staring as unblinking as he could at the sky.

Jeff nudges him with his foot, "good riddance, Munson. People will remember you weirdly."

Eddie breaks character to grin up, lifting a hand that Jeff takes and helps pull him up. "Remembered weirdly is what it's all about."

"Speaking of weird, Harrington's being... weird," Gareth says, tilting his head slightly, still looking in the direction they'd all been looking at just moments before. "When you just dropped he like... I dunno. Weird."

"What, weird how. What did he do?" Eddie whips to look at Harrington, who is looking back, looking worried, and is slightly closer than he was before. Eddie watches as Harrington's eyes track his entire self, looking for what, Eddie can't even begin to understand. He can visibly see the tension leave Harrington's body, pretty sure even his friends clocked that (even though they have less experience in the Harrington-watching department than himself).

"When you dropped, he like... rushed forward. I think he caught how fucking weird that would be for him to do 'cause he stopped just as quickly. That's weird, right?"

"Really fucking weird."

Harrington steps back into his friend group, more on the outside than he was before. (Did seem like people loved Hargrove a bit more than Harrington these days).

Eddie and his friends go back to trash talking everyone they can set their eyes on. It's easy to do, what with being ignored in the corner again. Occasionally Eddie is flagged down by someone, or they try and make eye contact (which is worse), so he huffs as though put upon and marches off to a different corner of the Perkins' backyard to sale his contraband.

(If he's marking it up, well, these rich kids can afford it.)

Anyway, their trash talk always seems to come back to Harrington. None of them acknowledge it out loud but Harrington's the easiest to shit talk in public because he's the safest. He's egotistical, kinda airheaded, and an asshole, but in a different way than Hagan or Jackson or most of the other jocks.

Harrington is the kind of asshole that you introduce yourself to 15 times and unless you're 'popular' he doesn't bother to remember he's already met you. Hagan and Jackson are assholes that give you a swirlee if you sneeze wrong near them, or will call you a fag before gut punching you behind the bleachers because they think they caught you staring at them (which Eddie was not ((It was Harrington he was staring at)).

He's safe to shit talk because he doesn't get physical (couldn't win a fight if the rumors were true (Also they all saw how he looked after Jonathan got him)) and rarely gets confrontational (less so with each passing year). Eddie thinks that's his ego - he's so full of himself that anything you say about him can't possibly affect him. (What are the words of a peasant in the face of a king, after all?)

That's not to say they haven't fucked up and said something at just the right time to provoke Harrington in the past, because they all have, but it's typically his lackeys that jump in defense, that say something first to defend Harrington. And The King will let them bark and growl just enough to put the peasants back in their place, calming his dogs with words of 'they're not worth it' and 'if what he said meant anything it would have hurt, wouldn't it?' which is just rude. Like Eddie and his friends aren't even people capable of drawing Harrington's attention, much less his wrath.

If Eddie's honest with himself (he's not), he would stop to question why he even wants to provoke a reaction from Harrington (it's because of his stupid crush), but Eddie's not honest so...

The point is, they feel pretty comfortable trash talking Harrington in hushed whispers to themselves in a corner of Carol Perkins' yard.

"Do you think he, like, genuinely thinks he looks cool when he does that?" Gareth whispers as they watch Harrington shotgun a beer, again.

"Dunno, probab-" Jeff cuts himself off, a quizzical expression on his face as he turns his head to look towards the Perkins' house. He's got ears that pick up everything, so Eddie just watches as he moves away from the group to the fence. Watches as Jeff jumps to look over. When he lands, he flips quickly back to them, looking between them and the group of party goers. He takes a moment, assessing his options it seems, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "Cops in bound! Just turned onto the street!"

The party starts scattering instantly, teens running in all directions.

Brian and Gareth eye the back fence and Eddie knows immediately they're not going to jump it. Eddie throws Gareth the keys to his van, "get Jeff and go."

They don't argue, they've done this song and dance before. Eddie knows they might get a stern talking to for smelling like beer but if Eddie's in the van with them, they're all ending up in jail because of what's in his lunchbox. (Hell, they'd still get a night in jail instead of just a warning for the beer if Eddie's in the van without the lunchbox).

Eddie's not the most athletic but he's gotta run. He tosses his lunchbox over the back fence before hauling himself up, one leg over and trying to get the other when he gets high-centered for a moment before gravity starts to pull him down (thankfully on the correct side of the fence) only to find the chain on his jeans catches along something at the top, leaving him to cling quickly to the fence, praying he can muster enough upper body strength to haul himself back up enough to unstick the chain before the cops get here. He tries to readjust and his hand slips, he can't get any leverage. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He's so screwed. Officer Callihan said if he was caught again, he'd be tried as an adult. Wayne's going to kill him. Why won't these stupid jeans just rip, how has the chain not given way yet? He's going to get caught with his lunchbox right at his feet. He's-

Being shoved back up, someone's shoulder digging painfully into his ribcage to get the leverage needed for Eddie's body to be high enough for the stranger's hand to sneak up and unstick the chain. Eddie expects to be dumped suddenly and unceremoniously on the ground but this does not happen. Instead, his mysterious hero manages to keep him pinned up on the fence long enough to turn themselves so both of the stranger's arms are under Eddie and then they kind of just... sink together, using the fence as a counterweight by leaning into but not actually dragging Eddie down against it.

The culmination of which ends with Eddie being held like some blushing bride in Steve Harrington's lap. Eddie opens his mouth to say... something. What, he doesn't know, but Harrington lifts a finger to his lips to signal him to be quiet. So, he stays quiet, heart pounding.

It takes about five full seconds before the sounds of the cops busting the party actually start, the sirens on the cars flipping on to let the scattering teens know they've been caught. In that same instance, Harrington sweeps up Eddie's lunch box and shoves it onto his chest, where one of Eddie's hands comes up to wrap around and hold it close on instinct, the sound the metal handle clanging on the metal lid meaningless in all the other sounds happening.

Using his other hand, Harrington basically folds Eddie forward and out of his lap, back on his own feet in a crouch. Harrington shoves his chin forward, a silent instruction to move but Eddie's still wrapping his head around the fact he's no longer dangling from a wooden fence like an idiot, so Harrington steps forward, a hand wrapping around the wrist of Eddie's free hand, forcing him to follow along as they stealth along the wooden fence of the Perkins' residence, then the fence of the neighbors, and finally a third neighbor before the fences run off and all that's left is the woods that boarder the town one way, and a way back to the road on the other.

Eddie should pull his wrist free and book it, run as fast and as far from Harrington and this party as he can get but he's kind of star struck right now (he can be a little honest with himself, as a treat). He just follows, lets Harrington jerk him around (don't even think it Munson, do not think about it-) and follows quietly.

Harrington peeks around the end of the fence, looking for any incoming trouble, Eddie assumes, and quickly jerks back, looking to Eddie, "you trust me, man?"

And Eddie, the idiot, says, "Yeah, man."

Harrington grabs his lunchbox, ripping it away from him with ease (Eddie's still star struck, okay?) and shoves it up against the fence, twisting his body as he does, so he ends up sitting with his back to this fence, body blocking sight of the lunchbox before pulling Eddie into his lap.

This is what brings Eddie back into his body. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just don't punch me until I get the cop that's gonna round the fence any time now to go away."

Eddie could bolt but he's not particularly fast, so he'd be caught, and he knows the odds. Between himself and Harrington, they'll book him and let Harrington go with a warning. So, Harrington thinks he can get the cop to go away? Okay. He lets Harrington manhandle him (don't think it don'tthinkit don't-) He's absolutely thinking it because Harrington grabs his ass and pulls him flush against him before a hand cups the back of his head and shoves his face into Harrington's neck, and then Harrington whispers in his ear, "just pretend we've been making out back here for the last half hour."

Fuck! Harrington's trying to get him shot by the goddamn police. He is an idiot and should have known better than to trust him. Well. If Harrington thinks he can get away from this unscathed, he's sorely mistaken. Eddie lifts his hands to ruffle Harrington's perfect hair before gripping it roughly with one hand, the other moving to brace himself on the fence, then he latches onto Harrington's neck, intent on giving Harrington the biggest, ugliest hickie of his life. Try and explain that away you asshole.

Except Harrington's reaction isn't what Eddie had thought it would be. Instead of being shoved, the hands on his ass and in his hair squeeze, seemingly trying to get Eddie closer and that is definitely a moan his hears, breathed directly into his ear. It eggs Eddie on a bit, truthfully, so he pulls back a little, less set on just marking Harrington and a little more set on seeing if he can make Harrington actually enjoy it.

Eddie presses kisses over the bit of skin he'd just bit like a wild animal and runs his tongue up to gently pull at Harrington's earlobe, before kissing his way back down to suck at the same spot some more. Harrington keeps switching from squeezing at him to petting him and Eddie's not really going to complain. The police can come shoot him. He'll die- well, not happy but at least alright.

"Jesus Christ, kid!"

Eddie tries to jerk away, a reflex because that's Chief Hopper's voice and he's so fucking screwed, but Harrington keeps him moored there, face hidden, hand cradling his head more gently than it has been thus far, the hand on his ass moving up to his lower back, holding him closer... dare he say, protectively.

"Hopper," Harrington sounds more calm than Eddie thought he would, "hi."

Eddie wishes he could see what is happening because there is an awful lot of silence going on in which he can only assume Hopper and Harrington are staring at each other. (Having a silent conversation, perhaps?)

Then the heaviest sigh he's ever heard from Chief Hopper (and he's heard some heavy ones in his days) greets the air, "I don't want to know who that is. Just this once, I am going to pretend I didn't see you here. You'd think that you would learn- Next time you and your boyfriend sneak away from a party to- just go to his house. Jesus, if it had been anyone but me walking around this corner... Give it about twenty minutes before you leave." The sound of retreating footsteps and Hopper's voice reporting in his walkie an 'all clear' follow those words.

They don't part immediately. Eddie waits until the footsteps cannot be heard before pulling back. Harrington makes no move to remove his hands from Eddie's person, so as a result the hand that was in Eddie's hair falls to his shoulder, then his chest, where it rests now that he's back far enough to look at Harrington. The moon is bright, and Eddie's eyes have adjusted to the dark of the evening, so he can see Harrington's face. "How the fuck did that just work?"

Harrington gives an almost hysterical sounding giggle before he tries to drop his head back to rest on the fence. He can't successfully do that, because Eddie realizes he's still cradling Harrington's head with one hand.

He makes no motion to move his hand, just holds Harrington's head up as he seems to be going through... something right now.

It takes several minutes, but finally he speaks. "It's kinda personal. Let's just say, Hopper and I got history, a- well, a good history isn't how I'd put it, but like, we're on the same page with it."

"Did you fuck Hopper?"

Harrington laughs out loud and Eddie slaps his other hand (the one not currently petting his soft, soft hair) over his mouth to muffle the noise. That sobers Harrington a little, remembering the 'wait twenty minutes' thing and once it seems like he's got it together again, Eddie removes his hand.

"No. Nothing like that with Hopper."

Eddie's a bit hung up on that fact Harrington is not immediately shouting that he's not a fag and would never have slept with the chief of police, a man. "You're really not gonna tell me."

"No."

They just kind of look at each other after that. Eddie's not sure what to do now. He should get out of Harrington's lap, right? That's a thing he should definitely be doing right now.

But.

But Harrington isn't shoving him off. In fact, his eyes are half closed as he stares at Eddie, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet his own, so Eddie feels like he can confidently say King Steve is looking at his lips. Eddie licks his lips, a test of sorts.

Harrington passes, because his tongue flicks out to lick his own lips.

"Hey, Eddie," (what the fuck. Harrington has never, not once, said his name, and Eddie has re-introduced himself several times.) "I want to kiss you. Can I?"

Oh.

Eddie's never been asked that before.

Gross. Eddie's got fucking butterflies in his stomach from Steve fucking Harrington.

Eddie wants to say yes so fucking bad but- well, his whole world view of Steve Harrington has just been rocked and now a ball of guilt is forming inside him for how he's marked up Harrington's neck like a wanton slut and Harrington asks for a kiss. But Harrington is also, at minimum, five beers in plus the weed, so he's clearly not thinking straight (ha fucking ha) because he wouldn't be asking him for a kiss if he was.

"No," Eddie says softly, "you're drunk. If you still wanna kiss me in the daylight, ask then."

Harrington scrunches his face and Eddie doesn't know him well enough to decipher what that look means, but he nods, sitting up so he can lean forward and nuzzle his face into Eddie's chest, bumping the top of his head against Eddie's chin like a cat.

Eddie leans his head atop Harrington's and lets himself be cuddled.

What a weird fucking night.

"Jeff!" Eddie flings himself on his friend's couch the next day, face down in the cushions, his voice mumbled as he continues, "I don't know what to do."

Jeff, ever patient with Eddie, just folds his legs at the knee and sits on the couch, dropping his legs back down and into his lap. "The way I see it, you do nothing."

"Nothing?"

"You sound extra pathetic mumbling into the couch. Nothing. If Harrington wants to kiss you, he'll ask again. If he doesn't, or tries to turn this on you, remind him he's the one that let another boy mark him up. You don't know if you can trust him."

Eddie musters all his strength to turn his head to the side so he can breath again. "You're right. As usual."

"Try not to sound so annoyed and disappointed."

"I should trust the Munson doctrine. If it's too good to be true, then it's not true," Eddie says as he wiggles forward, out of Jeff's lap and onto his knees, shuffling around until he's sitting cross-legged on the center cushion.

"Maybe, maybe not. Like, we know Harrington's an asshole but he's not mean," Jeff says. "besides, maybe being dumped by Nancy Wheeler for Jonathan Byers might have shaken some decency into him. Humility, even."

Suppose they'll learn if that's true tomorrow. "You can't tell anyone what I told you."

"Duh. Blackmail only works if the leverage you have is still a secret."

“Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Brian all look up at the same time. Harrington isn't even holding a lunch tray, hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket, striped polo tucked into light wash jeans under his opened jacket, Eddie's hickie only half hidden by the polo's collar.

Eddie's eyes scan the cafeteria quickly. Hawkins is a small town, so it stands to reason the schools are too. There are literal, completely empty tables. So, Eddie's eyes go to the table Harrington usually sits at.

Ah.

Everyone there is looking over. Watching. Waiting, probably. This is the trick. The joke. If Eddie lets him sit, they've pegged him for the desperate fag they all tell him he is.

"'Fraid this table is full, too," Eddie says, careful to sound bored as he says it, looking directly at Harrington.

Harrington's eyes widen slightly, like he hadn't expected Eddie to deny him. Well, joke backfired, buddy.

"I.... see," Harrington says slowly. "My mistake."

And they all watch him leave with such little fanfare that Eddie's wondering if he misread the situation. Was Harrington actually wanting to sit with them- but no. He watches as Harrington returns to his table, to the royalty of Hawkins High. Hagan says something to him and Harrington just shrugs with one shoulder before plopping onto the bench.

They wait for Harrington to start up conversation, for the leering and mocking to start up but it doesn't. Harrington just sits there in silence.

"What... was that?" Gareth asks, looking away from the Royalty to look at Eddie.

"Got no idea," Eddie lies, even as Jeff is leveling him with a look he refuses to acknowledge.

November 7th, 1984

Harrington was absent yesterday (not that Eddie keeps track) and now here Harrington is, slinking into the American History class they share for first period, face busted to shit. Eddie does a double take because he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him but no. Harrington looks worse than when Jonathan got him.

Eddie spends the first twenty minutes of class just watching Harrington. Harrington slides into his chair and keeps his head down, eyes closed most of the time. Every now and then he winces and drops his head into his hands, palms digging into eyes. He looks bad.

Then Harrington goes a little green around the gills and looks like he's forcing himself to swallow down vomit and Eddie's done watching the sad display. "Hey, Miss Click, I think Harrington's gonna lose his breakfast all over the back of Thompson if he doesn't get outta here soon."

Miss Click looks like she's gonna give him detention again but then she looks at Harrington and must agree with his assessment. "Help him to the nurses office, Eddie."

Normally Eddie would argue but Harrington is also looking at him now and he really wants to know what happened so instead of arguing, he stands. Harrington does, too, grabbing his bag from the floor and shuffling towards the door.

The halls are empty and Steve makes it maybe ten feet down the hall before he falls against the lockers, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Come on, Harrington," Eddie grabs his backpack from him and shoulders it, then pulls one of Harrington's arms around him. "Just keep your eyes closed. I won't walk you into any walls."

"Thanks."

It's so quiet, Eddie's not sure he was even meant to hear it. They walk in silence a bit more before Eddie asks, "so, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, sure. Nothing causes this all the time."

"What'd'ya care."

Fair. That's fair. He shut Harrington down quickly at the beginning of the year. And Eddie's had plenty of time to concede it might have been the wrong thing to do. Harrington really wasn't setting him up to be a joke, or a punching bag, because if he had been, Eddie would have been jumped by now. Especially since it's fairly common knowledge that Harrington has fallen from grace, replaced by Billy Hargrove. A whole asshole and a half, that one.

They're silent all the way to nurse and even after Harrington vanishes behind the door, Eddie loiters in the hall. He doesn't care about getting back to class. Whatever is happening with Harrington is so much more important.

Another period later and Harrington is shoving himself through the door, even as the nurse protests behind him.

"I'll be fine, really. I'm sure my mom's not answering because she's not near the phone. There's no need to worry," Harrington catches sight of Eddie then. He looks surprised, but says to the nurse, "Eddie here will drive me home. I promise I won't be driving with a concussion."

She looks past Harrington to Eddie and he finds himself nodding frantically. The nurse, not paid enough to argue with teenagers, nods back and Harrington escapes back into the hall without argument.

"You need a ride?"

"I can drive myself."

"Absolutely not. You just said you were concussed."

Harrington looks like he wants to argue more but before he can, he folds a bit into himself, hands pressing into eyes again.

"Look, I owe you anyway, alright. Let me repay."

There's a long silence, then, "okay."

Eddie walks into Gareth's third period class and deposits the keys to his van to him with instructions to pick him up from Harrington's after school (Jeff is his best friend, but Gareth is the safer driver) before helping Harrington limp his way to his own car, where he hands over his keys very forlornly and climbs into his car. Eddie takes the driver's seat and they're off.

"You gonna give me directions, Harrington?"

"You've been to my house before."

This is true. He just didn't know Harrington remembered that. Hagan had invited Eddie to deal there, once; Harrington himself, twice. He didn't know Harrington had even remembered he was there. "Didn't know you remembered that."

"You've been to my house four times."

"Three."

Harrington lull his head to the side to squint (is he trying to glare?) at Eddie. "Four."

Four? Eddie didn't remember- oh. Harrington's ninth birthday party. Eddie was invited, one of the few who hadn't been in Harrington's class to get an invitation. He was in fifth grade, Harrington in fourth. It was shortly after Wayne had brought him to Hawkins.

"Your birthday party. Why'd you even invite me to that?"

Harrington doesn't answer.

"I thought you said your mom was home," Eddie says as he follows Harrington into his house.

"I lied."

"Clearly," Eddie says, looking around as he continues to follow Harrington upstairs.

Harrington just allows it, which Eddie wants to question but won't because he's working out how to apologize for the first day of school without apologizing.

"If you're here alone, who's waking you up to make sure you aren't dead?"

"No one. And clearly, I am not dead."

"Someone's supposed to wake you every few hours, right?"

Harrington shrugs. "Don't need anyone to. Why, were you gonna offer?"

Was he? No. Maybe. He follows him all the way to his plaid hellscape of a room, watches as Harrington flicks on his light, then tries to block the sunlight with his sad curtains and gives up quickly, opting to toe himself out of his shoes and crawl under his covers instead.

It's fucking pathetic.

Eddie leaves Harrington's room to start opening and closing doors around the upstairs. Rich people always have a- yes! A linen closet. Eddie pulls out the darkest towels and heads back to Harrington's room.

"You got tacks or nails or safety pins?"

Harrington pokes his head out from beneath his covers, squinting at Eddie. "Tacks in the cup on the dresser." then he disappears again. Quite an awfully lot of freedom Harrington seems to be giving him. He could be snooping through things.

He doesn't, though (yet). He uses almost all of the tacks to get the towels to stay up, but no sunlight breaches them when he's done. Then he turns off the light and closes the door, leaving it open just a crack, before sitting himself on the edge of Harrington's bed.

"I owe you an apology, Harrington," Eddie finds himself saying. Fuck. He was trying to do this without having to actually do it. Too late now.

"Oh," he hears in the near darkness Harrington's surprise, feels shuffling as Harrington must be moving to look at him. "Erm, why do you think you owe me an apology."

"For the first day of school. I thought- I thought it was a prank. Or a joke. A cruel one."

Eddie turns to see Harrington peering at him, just his nose and up visible, hair a static ruffled mess, the comforter held in place by one hand. "It wasn't."

"I know that now," Eddie whispers, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. "I just- I'm sorry. I did want you to sit."

Silence. Then, "I get it, Eddie. I wouldn't trust me either."

"I said I trusted you, that night," Eddie says, "and I did. I do? I think... I didn't trust myself, I think, enough to believe that you were truly being genuine with me. I was shitty to you. So, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Harrington says, "I'm gonna go to sleep now, my head is killing me. If you're hungry help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen. You're missing lunch period."

"You gonna sleep in your jeans?"

"Too much work to remove 'em," Harrington mumbles.

"Undo your belt and jeans."

"How forward," Harrington has an eyebrow raised.

"Just do it, ya tool," Eddie says with more bravado than he feels. He slides off the bed and watches the comforter shift as Harrington does as he's told. Eddie rounds to the end of the bed, pulling up the comforter and reaching under blind, finding Harrington's legs and trailing up to his knees to grasp of the jeans. "For your modesty. Lift your hips." Harrington does, and Eddie pulls. Harrington drops his hips back down once the jeans are near his knees, lifting his legs slightly instead, allowing Eddie to pull them off and drop them on the floor at the end of the bed. "Alright, sleep it off, Harrington."

Eddie leaves him to wander to the kitchen because he is hungry and missing lunch, and this free food is going to be infinitely better than whatever the cafeteria was offering simply because it's free.

The fridge has some leftovers in it, so Eddie helps himself to leftover chicken and mashed potatoes. He eats it standing in the kitchen.

Once done, he explores Castle Harrington. A big kitchen leads to a dining room, which rounds to a large living room with a wall of windows that lookout to the pool. Eddie's familiar with the backyard, where he'd station up and wait for people to buy. There's a little hall that leads from the living room to the stairs and front door, with another hall alone the middle of the wall there. It leads to a bathroom and a rec room, complete with pool table (fucking rich people) and another door farther still. It's locked but Eddie's a snoop, so he flips the latch and opens. It's an empty garage.

Eddie ends up removing his shoes, denim vest, and leather jacket, flopping down on Harrington's couch to channel surf, though his eyes keep flicking down to his watch. At the one-hour mark he sneaks back up to Harrington's room and looks for signs of life. Easy enough, Harrington snores.

He checks each hour. Eventually Gareth shows up, signaling his arrival with three sharp jabs to the horn of Eddie's van. Eddie heads out without putting anything back on.

"I'm staying. Harrington is not- it's not good, dude," Eddie says. "Looks like he got beat worse than I did when took a chance behind The Hideout."

Gareth's eyes go wide. Eddie'd gotten beaten for being gay (a busted lip and bruised ribs; would have been worse if the owner of The Hideout hadn't been stepping out back to smoke and ended up chasing away Eddie's assailant). "What happened?"

Eddie shrugs. "Don't know. But I gotta find out. I think he was being genuine with us, on the first day of school. I feel like I have to make sure he's okay."

Jeff leans forward to peer around Gareth from the passenger seat. "You feeling guilty, Munson?"

This is a conversation they've had several times. One Eddie never wins. "Well, yeah. If I'd let him be our friend, he might not have been wherever he was when he got the shit beat out of him. Might have been watching us at band practice or something instead."

Gareth makes a gagging noise. "Ew. You've got it so bad for Harrington. Polos? That's what gets you hot and bothered?"

Eddie feels his face go red. "Fuck off."

"Don't fuck up this time, Eddie," Jeff says before sitting back out of view.

"Call if you need a ride to school tomorrow," Gareth says before reversing out of Harrington's driveway.

Eddie waits until Harrington's gotten a full eight hours (most of which he spends snooping about the place) before going to wake him up. "Hey, you gotta get some food in you, I think. Up, up."

Harrington groans, but it sounds more annoyed than pained.

"Up, up, up, up," Eddie repeats, swatting lightly at Harrington's legs, occasionally grabbing to jiggle a leg.

"'m up. I'm up," Harrington says, sounding more like himself than he has all day. "Have you always been this annoying?"

"Call it the Munson Charm."

"Charm," Harrington repeats flatly.

"I already ate your mashed potatoes, so I'm hoping you're not wanting those for dinner. Lunch? Whatever."

Harrington throws the covers off, standing before Eddie in a polo shirt and plaid boxers. "Hey, Eddie. It's still daytime out there, yeah?"

"Yeah, didn't miss it."

"Cool, cool. Can I kiss you?"

Eddie freezes, remembering that's what he'd told Harrington to do. Ask him in the daylight. He does still want to kiss Harrington, but also, he's afraid. "First you ask drunk. Now you ask concussed. Still a no, buddy. It's gotta be daylight and without anything that could be messing with your mind."

Harrington takes the rejection well, just nods an okay and motions towards his door for Eddie to lead the way to the kitchen.

Harrington opts for a TV dinner, offering one to Eddie. He accepts, because, again, free food. Then they eat them at the dinner table like it's a real meal, instead of off of TV trays in the living room like normal people.

And the odd thing about it all is how not odd all of it is, actually. The last time they were alone together, Eddie ravished his neck like a goddamn vampire. And now they're just hanging out, chatting ideally like it's a thing they do all the time.

Eddie can see why Harrington became popular so quickly. He's easy to like when he's like this, soft spoken and kind. Eddie finds he wants to know if the guy sitting across from him is the real Harrington, or an act. Or was King Harrington the act? Eddie really hasn't known him enough to say that but he's seen this house. Conformity seems important to the Harringtons.

"You looked like you could use something to cheer you up," Harrington says, out of left field.

"What?"

"It's why I invited you to my ninth birthday. You'd just transferred to our school. Looked so sad all the time. Eight-year-old me hadn't experienced a sad birthday party, so I thought it would cheer you up."

Oh. "That's-" what is that? Sweet? Considerate in a way Eddie didn't think young Harrington possible of? "It worked. Your party was fun."

Harrington smiles at him, a soft and shy thing that makes the butterflies erupt in his stomach again. "Well, thanks for watching over me today. Made it easier to sleep, having someone else in the house."

"Anytime."

"You mean that?"

Does he? Eddie can't promise even himself that it will always be true, that he does really mean anytime, but it's true right now so he says, "yeah, man."

Being friends with Steve Harrington is so much easier than Eddie thought it could be.

Steve -because he's Steve now, not Harrington- doesn't come back to school the rest of the week, but he makes Eddie go, asking if he can gather his homework from his classes so he won't fall behind. And school has never been a real priority for Eddie (it is his second senior year) but hanging out with Steve has become important.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian even come over on Saturday evening, at Steve's insistence. He wants to be their friend, too, it seems. And what an odd thing to see, his friends and Steve lounging around his rec room, Brian beating all of them at pool so easily it should be humiliating. Steve chats with them all like it's easy, normal, a thing he enjoys doing.

He can see his friends keeping the topics safe, music, high school gossip, they even start to discuss their grades. Eddie is mostly listening because he's been chatting with Steve all week, so he can see his friends are steering clear of anything other. They don't bring up anything Steve wouldn't talk to other jocks about.

Leave it to Steve to throw them for a loop. "Hey, you guys are all in Hellfire, right?"

The room screeches to a stop, all eyes going to Steve. He's not sure what's showing on his own face, but he can see all his friend's faces. They look surprised.

"Yeah," Jeff finds his voice first. "We're the only members."

Steve nods, "right. You play Dungeons and Dragons?"

"You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?" Brian asks.

"Yeah," Steve shrugs, fiddling with the beer can in his hands, "I know that, it's like -Hellfire, that is-, a high school club but- oh, this is gonna sound bad. I can tell already."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, curious, "just say it, Harrington. If we don't like it, there's four of us and one of you. We'll give you a swirlee in your own damn toilet."

Steve laughs and that seems to be all the push he needed because he relaxes, setting the beer down on a coaster, "I know some super cool kids who'll be freshman next year. I think they'd really want to be in your club. But, uh, since Eddie and I will be graduating this year, I was wondering if you'd want to move your game from the school to here? So they can join in."

Eddie's brain shuts off. Steve knows some cool middle schoolers, who play Dungeons and Dragons, and thinks the should all come to Steve's house to do that. Play DnD together. (Steve also believes he's going to graduate this year, ha!)

"I'm sorry," Jeff says, laughter in his voice, "there's no such things as cool middle schoolers."

Steve frowns slightly, "well, these will be the first, then. They've got their own DM, his name's Will, but I think he could learn a lot from Eddie. And Dustin loves this game so much. But if they wait until next year to officially join the club, Eddie won't be there."

Steve knows that Eddie is the DM. Steve knows what a DM is. (Steve really believes he's going to graduate this year?). "How- what? How do you even know about Hellfire? Or that I'm the DM?"

"I go to school with you guys," Steve says, "I know I'm an asshole but I'm not oblivious. Just because I didn't acknowledge the existence of your club before now doesn't mean I was unaware of it."

Fair point.

"Alright. Let's have our next club meeting here instead of the school. You can bring these cool middle schoolers and we'll see. If they're just lame middle schoolers, we're going to be very disappointed."

"Great! You meet Thursdays, right? They'll be here."

Monday is the real test. Eddie's feeling some kind of way about Monday. It's lunch, and everyone is already at their usual tables except Steve, who hasn't arrived yet.

Jeff catches his eye and Eddie can see he's thinking the same thing. It was easy to be friends with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson behind closed doors and in front of people already his friend. But if Steve actually comes through those doors and sits at their table, he'll be a target. Fully and officially.

Of course, Eddie catches sight of Steve as soon as he does come in, sack lunch in hand. He watches as Steve doesn't even hesitate. He weaves his way around other teens and plops down at their table, into the space left available for him between Eddie and Gareth. Watches as Steve beams at him before pulling a fucking pb&j out of his stupid brown sack.

Eddie can hear the murmuring around them, catches Steve's name and his own, knows that they've all been noticed today. The outcome of what will happen because of this, unknown.

Eddie doesn't like the unknown.

He might be willing to face it, though, if Steve keeps smiling at him.

The week passes. No one says anything to him. Steve sits at their table every day.

Thursday comes and he gets to meet some pretty cool middle schoolers, though unexpected ones. Will, the DM, turns out to be Will Byers, who was dead and then not dead and also the little brother of the guy who beat Steve up and stole his girlfriend (what the hell sparked this kids friendship with Steve?). Mike Wheeler, little brother of said ex-girlfriend. Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson are the last two. Eddie has never heard of these two, and therefore doesn't have any opinions just yet.

The kids know their stuff but they don't end up playing. Character creation takes some time, and Eddie's gotta think about how to incorporate four new characters (he was expecting one lame middle schooler, even though Steve had used the plural of kid every time he talked about them).

Before they all head out, Steve asks to talk to Eddie.

"Hey, I just- if the kids get into other after school activities, would you be okay with moving the date of the club meeting? My house is available every day, not just school days."

What an odd request. "I guess? Why?"

Steve shrugs (but it's a shrug Eddie has come to know doesn't mean 'I don't know' and means something closer to 'I have a perfectly valid explanation for this but don't know how to put it into words so it's easier to say I don't know') and says, "some school activities can't be rescheduled. It's be kinda shitty to make them miss this by forcing them to chose."

"There's a story there. I want to know it."

Steve looks at him, open in a way that Eddie hasn't experienced. "I want to tell you. But I'm not ready for that. Not yet. Now, go home and do your damn homework. I gotta drop these kids off."

December 21st, 1984 - Christmas Break

"I can't believe you did Dustin's hair for their Snowball dance," Eddie says as they watch Jeff, Gareth, Brian, Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin pile into Eddie's van after a rare, afternoon meeting of Hellfire. Gareth offered to take everyone home (maybe Eddie had to beg him to do it so he could stay and bother Steve, but that's between him and Gareth).

"He deserves a good older role model. I try to be that person," Steve says, and before Eddie can mock him for being egotistical, he continues, "that's why I wanted them to meet you, I guess, back in November. Dustin deserves a role model who understands the things he likes. Dustin needs you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that, so he just walks to the living room, grabbing the remote and settling in on the couch. Steve joins him shortly, sitting next to him rather than at the other end of the couch.

"You finish your homework?"

"Oh my god, mom," Eddie rolls his whole head dramatically, "no. I'll get it done eventually."

"Eddie," Steve says, sounding serious. Eddie turns to him, and Steve reaches out, grabbing one of Eddies hands, slotting their fingers together and Eddie feels those damn butterflies he's so used to these days. "I want to graduate with you. We can have a joint graduation party here. But that can't happen if you don't do your homework."

Eddie looks at Steve, feeling more seen than he's ever been in his life. His hand clutches back at Steve's. "Yeah. Okay. I'll graduate with you. Class of '85."

"Joint party?"

This is Eddie's chance to ask the question he's been itching to ask. "Your parent's won't mind you sharing with the resident freak?"

"My parents won't be here. They send me a card with a letter to take to their local accountant, who will arrange for a graduation cake to be delivered on a date of my choosing and give me money to host whatever kinda party I want. And what I want, is a joint party."

"You sound so sure of that."

"I am," Steve says, looking away to stare towards the TV, "I know the exact date they'll be in town between now and April 1986."

The fact Steve says 'date' and not 'dates' is not lost on Eddie. "When's that?"

"May 28th, 1985."

Eddie studies the side of his face, looking for any hint of a joke. "How do you know that?"

"Would you believe me if I said it's because I'm actually twenty-one, and have already lived through these events, and by some miracle was sent back into the body of my 17-year-old self to try and stop something terrible from happening?"

Eddie hits him with a throw pillow. He'll get the truth out of him one day.

May 3rd, 1985

Eddie graduates with Steve. It was fucking hell making it happen, but Steve recruited Nancy Wheeler to help tutor them both. (Eddie thought he'd be jealous, but Steve really isn't into Nancy anymore. They'd chat, he'd ask about Jonathan even, but most importantly, he'd always sat closer to Eddie than Nancy).

All of Hellfire is invited to their graduation party, his Uncle Wayne, too, along with the entire Byer's family, Chief Hopper and his daughter, Max Mayfield, and Robin Buckley. Most of these people aren't a surprise to Eddie by the time the party comes around but meeting them and learning that Steve considers this odd group of people his family was a surreal thing when it was happening.

(The real surprise person is Robin Buckley, who Steve had tried to befriend briefly during January but quickly backed out of doing that when he saw how weirded out it made Buckley. Buckley does not show to their joint graduation party but everyone else does.)

Steve and his uncle get along well and it makes some deep part of Eddie warm and fuzzy. Wayne was initially distrustful of Steve (rightfully so, given Eddie's history with jocks, and that he might have complained, loudly and often, about Steve to his uncle before. Hard to backtrack that.)

But Steve had shown up one day, asking to speak to Wayne instead of Eddie. Wayne had said yes, and then they both climbed into Wayne's pickup and went God knows where because Wayne and Eddie both know if they'd stayed on the property, Eddie would have done his best to eavesdrop.

Upon return, Steve had given Wayne a hug, hopped in his own car, and left.

Neither will tell him what they talked about, the jerks.

But all that to say, they're here, the sliding-glass door that leads to Steve's backyard wide open as people freely move from the inside to the outside and back. His friends, Steve's friends, their friends mingling easily. Hopper and Wayne chat, Jonathan and Gareth are hucking kids into the pool (at their request), Nancy is talking with Jeff and Brian, and Steve is standing at Eddie's side, holding a plate and eating cake (chocolate with raspberry filling, Eddie's favorite).

Steve spends a lot his time at Eddie's side.

Eddie expected Steve to be tired of him by now. To give up. But he hasn't. Every now and then, he still asks if he can kiss Eddie. And Eddie keeps saying no. Always an excuse, always a reason. It's been fucking with Eddie's head because he doesn't understand how Steve can be so willing, and wanting, to kiss another guy. Especially since the guy he wants to his is Eddie Munson!

Steve doesn't always ask when they're alone. He's asked when other people at this party are around, but always too quiet to be heard, like he's protecting Eddie's secret but doesn't care if people know his own. A little part of Eddie was mad at him about it; Steve's never been beaten up for being queer which probably makes it easier to be open about it.

In fact, Steve had asked him just this morning as they put their graduation gowns on over their regular clothes in the school parking lot.

"Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"No. Why are you so eager to get beat up?"

"I'm not scared of these people, Eds," Steve says with that damn shrug.

"You should be! This town'll try and kill you for being a fag," Eddie spits out, memories of Hagan, Jackson, Hargrove, the man from The Hideout, all come back to him.

"I've seen Hell, and I'm not afraid of a single person in this town," Steve says, voice cold and Eddie used to doubt that, but they've been friends for months now and Eddie's seen the nail bat he keeps in the trunk of his car, and been there when Steve's woken up screaming. Steve doesn't talk about it and Eddie hasn't pushed but this is- hearing this is the most direct Steve's ever been about it. Whatever the fuck it was.

"Tell me about it," Eddie finds himself say. "You've seen Hell?"

This brings Steve back to himself it seems, because he looks shocked by Eddie's words even though Steve said them first. "Not today. Today, we graduate!"

So, they've graduated, they've partied, and now, Eddie has questions.

"Hey, Steve, follow me," Eddie says and heads back into the house. He doesn't look back, doesn't need to to know Steve is following. He goes up the stairs and into Steve's room, waiting for Steve to enter before closing the door behind him.

"Want to get me alone, Munson?" Steve asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I want to know about Hell."

Steve drops onto the edge of his bed like a stone. He can see the war going on in Steve's head. He can wait this out. He leans back against the door, a confirmation for Steve that he's not going to give up on this easy.

"Eds, you didn't believe me before. I don't- I don't want to lose you if you don't believe me again."

Again? Eddie would have remembered if Steve had told him anything about Hell. "Trust me, then. Trust that I'm not going to leave just because I don't believe what you say."

"Okay," Steve says. "You asked, back in December, how I knew when I'd be seeing my parents again. Remember?"

Eddie thinks before wrinkling his nose and saying, "Yeah. Time travel."

"Yeah. Like Back to the Future but- shit. That's not out yet. But yeah, time travel. Sorta? I don't know. Maybe I didn't travel through time and instead just had a vision of the future. Or a prophetic dream. Or whatever."

Eddie is less leaning against the door, and more using it for support now. "The fuck, Harrington? You weren't joking about that? You really believe that?"

"Yeah. And I got a majority of the people in my backyard to believe me, so I'm hoping I can convince you, too. And if-if I lose you. If you think I'm crazy, or a liar, or whatever, it's better that I lose you this way than-" Steve cuts himself off, a choked sob following those words. Never, not once, has Eddie seen Steve cry, but he's seeing it now. Crying, over the mere thought of losing Eddie. Because Eddie isn't gone, he's here in this room with Steve, and still Steve cries.

"Hey, hey, shh," Eddie shoves off the door to drop to his knees before him, hands going up to cup his face. "I'm here. You're not losing me because I'm here."

Steve nods, cheeks rubbing against Eddie's palms before Steve's hands come up to grip loosely at Eddie's wrists, Steve leaning in to rest his forehead against Eddie's. He takes a shaky breath in before he speaks. "I've already changed the future. In that other timeline, the bad one, you didn't graduate this year. You don't meet Dustin or Mike or Lucas until next year. I'm so fucking jealous of you because I think Dustin like you better than me because you understand the things he likes and I don't. You never got to meet Will, the Byers' had already moved to California by the time the kids are Freshman."

Eddie stays quiet, waits, closes his own eyes to just hear Steve.

"There's another world, Dustin says it's another dimension. I don't know enough about how it all works but we call it the Upside Down. There are monster there, the Demogorgon and Demodogs, and later, Demobats and Vecna."

"Vecna and Demogorgon at from Dungeons and Dragons."

"I know. These things had no name until we had to fight them. The kids named the Demogorgon. You and Dustin name Vecna. Now shush."

Eddie nods against Steve's forehead and listens to the impossible. Will being stuck in the Upside Down, a girl with superpowers, how Steve got involved, that Steve returned to a body that had fought the Demogorgon but the Demodogs hadn't happened yet. That he and Nancy break up because Steve knows both their hearts belong to others (Eddie's insides twist because he's sure that Steve is hinting that his heart belongs to Eddie but that's for later in the story).

Steve talks about going to Carol Perkins' party because he'd heard Eddie was going to be there. He doesn't know how the events go before this timeline because Steve hadn't gone to that party last timeline. He'd been with Nancy still, then.

He talks about how Hopper was the first person he told about the timeline change, because if anyone could prove he was telling the truth, it was El. Hopper hadn't believed him but it had built enough of a trust that Hopper was willing to let them go at the party.

He talks about the events that led to the concussion he'd got, that sparked their friendship fully. How he'd gotten it protecting those kids from Billy Hargrove. Burning down a pumpkin patch.

"You said you were twenty-one," Eddie says, when Steve stops talking. "That would make the year 1986? '87?. What happens next?"

Steve shakes his head. "I can't- there are things I can't say. Can't talk about yet because if I change the timeline too much, Vecna could win. And I can't-he cannot-I-"

"Shh, shhh," Eddie soothes, "no, you don't have to tell me. Thank you, for sharing this with me. I do... I have a question."

"Mmm?"

"How do I play into this. Why did you decide to be my friend now?"

"To change the future. In March of '86, you get- the Upside Down shit effects your life, too. We trauma bond and- I realized that I wish I had known you better. Sooner. We had one week together and honestly, I spent most of it pining after my ex. It took a while, but I realized I will always love Nance, but I wasn't in love with her. But that realization came after it was too late for us-" Steve cuts off, sobbing.

Eddie doesn't know what happened. Isn't sure he wants to. That's a timeline that's already lost forever. For it to come true, it requires him to be in high school and he's not. "Hey, it's okay. We're okay. We're going to stay okay."

They stay there, close, until Steve is calm again and ready to rejoin the party.

"Hey. Any chance I can see El move something with her mind?"

"Yeah. Gonna have to wait until your side of the family leaves, though. It's still fragile, who knows and who doesn't."

His side of the family. Like- Eddie cannot think on that too long or he's going to combust. "Can't wait to see."

Eddie does get to see. Steve pulls El aside as the party winds down and whispers in her ear. A little while later, while Eddie is the only one outside for his smoke break, his cigarette gets pulled from his mouth and flung into the pool. He jumps, because Jesus Christ, but a quick look towards the house shows him Steve, arms crossed and smiling, with El, arm extended towards Eddie still.

He can't find himself to be mad about the cigarette when El smiles at him.

Steve is already cooking breakfast when Eddie emerges from the guest room the morning after graduation. He'd been invited to share Steve's bed (just to sleep, Steve had sworn) but Eddie had to decline because he wasn't sure he could trust himself.

"Morning," Eddie says, draping himself boldly against Steve's back to look over his shoulder as he fries up hashbrowns. Steve doesn't even hesitate to lean back against Eddie.

"Morning."

"Put that down and turn around for a moment," Eddie steps back and Steve obeys, setting the wooden spoon he'd been pushing hashbrowns around with down, turning to lean himself against the counter rather than stay in front of the stove.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to report that I am suffering no hang over effects. You?"

"None," Steve says, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Good, good. Didn't fall out of bed and concuss myself either. Same for you I assume?"

"Same."

Eddie thinks Steve is starting to understand, if the little surprised face he does is anything to go by. "And I can't help but notice the daylight out that window. You see the daylight?"

Steve gives him a lopsided grin. "I do see it. Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

They meet in the middle. For a kiss that's been a long time coming, it's so gentle. Steve cups his face like he's made of glass and Eddie should be annoyed by that but he's not. It just makes him feel safe.

Feel loved.

They break for air but don't go far from each other.

"I don't know what the future holds, unlike you," Eddie says, because he's a cheeky boy, "but I do know that no matter what it brings I'm here. You can't get rid of me now."

Steve looks conflicted, "not even if I asked you to go? For your safety? Even if it's to save you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Babe, you've already saved me. You've already changed the course of my life." He clocks the way Steve's eyes darken when he calls him babe. "I'm gonna make sure I've changed yours for the better, too."

Steve hauls him back in by his shoulders. They kiss and kiss and kiss until the smell of burning hashbrowns ruins the mood.

Eddie doesn't know what horrors await (no one but Steve does) but they'll face those together.

#steddie #my fic #writing prompt #this is a monster so posted to ao3 for easier reading

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intotyun · 6 months

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Analysis on aizen's goals and motivations + why he actually lost

Since bleach cour 3 is coming out so much later, I thought I should do an analysis on aizen, mainly focusing on his goals and motivations.

So one thing that is made abundantly clear is that aizen's whole reason for going to war with the gotei 13:

1. Change the world that is built on treachery and lies

2. By overthrowing the soul King and become God itself so he can rebuilt it in his image.

“That's an argument only a loser would make! A victor should speak on how the world should be, rather than how it currently operates. I refuse to accept the world ruled by that thing! I am a victor, I shall decide how the world should be! ”

Don't think I have to do a word for word analysis on what Aizen meant here. But what's interesting is how aizen referred to the “soul king” as THAT thing, as if his disgusted and we all know from cfyow how the soul king was betrayed and mutilated by the 5 nobles and used as some linchpin because they were terrified of his power. The 5 nobles then went on the rebuild the world in their image. And when they “rebuild it in their image”, they were actually rebuilding a world that would benefit ONLY them.

And we see how this image they built turned out: the current soul society.

Soul Society is a very shitty place to live in if I'm being honest, and I'm pretty sure someone as smart as Aizen would have noticed this. I always headcanon him as someone who lived in the Rukongai District, so he would naturally see first hand on how the world operates.

Aizen does not have a backstory, but I'm certain that something tragic must have happened in his past for him to be SO motivated to change this world. I'm sure Aizen did not suddenly want to become a God when he was first born (as funny that would be). He took on that role because

1. He had the power to do so and

2. No one wanted to

Aizen's "loser" speech was directed to Kisuke telling him how he despised him for not taking action despite his intellect. Which is why I think Aizen isn't really a egotistical man per say who wants to overthrow God because he believes he is superior. If God was doing his job and making life after death a “true paradise” instead of “a hell hole”, Aizen would have never tried overthrowing him.

And this is also why I don't think Aizen would have mind if someone else such as Kisuke became the soul king. Just as long, they had the intellect and power to change this horrible world. But since no one could see what he can see, Aizen took on the manter to change the world as he had the power and intellect to do so.

Now we all know what aizen's main goal and motivation was: to change this stagnant and shitty world that only existed to benefit the 5 nobles.

Now we move into another goal and desire that is a bit personal. Something that was locked away in Aizen's heart. Something that can only be found if you are on equal footing with him and can feel his sword.

the goal to find an equal.

this was stated clearly by Ichigo when he said, “perhaps he has been searching all this time for someone to regard as his equal” now I don't think kubo would dedicate 2 pages of Ichigo talking about Aizen's loneliness just for it to be simply “Ichigo assumption” I think this was Kubo's way of telling us readers this was how Aizen was truely feeling deep down.

Now, what exactly did Ichigo meant by equal? Did he mean in terms of strength? Well, we have yamamoto for that. How about in terms of intellect? Kisuke has the same kind of knowledge Aizen has. How about a combination? Is there actually anyone who is both smart and strong? nope it's just Aizen.

Then why do people say Ichigo was the only one who Aizen regarded as an equal? Ichigo definitely does not see eye to eye with Aizen's idealogy. Ichigo is strong yes, but that can't be the only thing considered to be “Aizen's equal”.

What is considered being “Aizen's equal” is the ability to understand him as a person and also understand the burden of his strength (really reminds me of gojo)

But you see, at the end of the day, Aizen has not find that equal. Ichigo is not that equal, he can never understand Aizen. He has no idea of his past and had no idea of what exactly pushed him to the edge. He can only understand more aspects of him than the other soul repears. And that is just very.... depressing. I truly think the only reason why Ichigo prolonged that battle, was so he could understand Aizen more. But he gave up when Aizen kept evolving and remembered why he came here.

Why did Aizen actually lose?

First let's mention about the traitor trio relationship.

First we have Tosen, the one Aizen killed.

Toswn served Aizen even before he became a shinigami. He saw the corruption of the Soul Society and believed that Aizen is the only one who can remake it to a better world. But where is he now? Oh that's right, gone.

In cfyow vol 3, page 370-375, the author described aizen and tosen relationship as “close” very bold choice of words given the fact we barely see Aizen being “close” to anyone. But this is backup with evidence:

1. Aizen able to sense the soul of Kaname vanishing, and then the author went on to say, "the soul of the man with whom he shared a destined relationship with; the man who was his confident"

2. Aizen respecting Tosen's wish to be killed if he ever started to accept the world of the shinigamis

3. Aizen telling himself, “sometimes, fear is necessary for evolution” when Tosen asked aizen to kill him.

I think Aizen truly did care for Kaname in his own way and not just use him as a means/tool. He formed a genuine bond with him though I wouldn't go to an extend and say he was an equal. As the only thing he saw eye to eye with Aizen was the state of the world.

And next, we have Gin the one who betrayed him. I believe Aizen knew deep down Gin was going to betray him but kept him around out of curiosity, and he wasn't bullshiting his way. But what I want to talk about is this panel of aizen after killing Gin and seeing everyone around him suffering. He looks... sad???

But why? Does that mean deep down in his heart, Aizen cared for Gin? I mean looking back Gin was a child prodigy something Aizen could probably relate to (as Aizen was also born with exceptional talent and strength)

I think this is the moment where Aizen was slowly beginning to have the desire to lose. He lost thr espada and the only 2 confidents he somewhat cared for. He truely has to stand above the heavens alone. But Ichigo pulled up and obviously Aizen has to put on the facade of “i'm stronger than you”

now, let's move on to the fight

“Let's do this Aizen real quick. It will be over”

But then, when they clash swords, he feels Aizen's sword and the loneliness coming out from it, it probably made Ichigo curious. This was not the Aizen he faced before, the Aizen he faced was confident and showed no signs of "loneliness".

Ichigo says this but goes on to prolongs the battle and keeps asking Aizen a bunch of questions. You can see it as Ichigo flexing on Aizen but I think Ichigo truely wanted to end this battle quick by all means necessary.

This isn't Ichigo flexing, this is Ichigo trying to understand Aizen. But I guess since he spend so much time in the dangai, he probably cannot properly ask aizen like how he would normally do in his battles.

Asking him questions that Aizen asked him before as he thinks this Aizen would be feeling the same thing ichigo did when he first faced aizen. Trying to relate to him and overpower him to tell Aizen, “hey i'm stronger than you, you arent the only one with overwhelming strength in this world”. Trying to relate to Aizen.

Obviously, this doesn't work, and Aizen gets angry and transforms into monster aizen.

Ichigo is confused and looks so sad, his probably thinking, "I don't get it. Why is he doing this? Doesn't he hate his strength? Shouldn't he feel better knowing that there is someone else as strong as him? Dosent he want to lose?"

“I see, so you cannot allow it, hogyoku. You can't forgive me...”

this was the beginning of Aizen's downfall: relying too much on the hogyoku. Aizen talks to the hogyoku as if a shinigami talks to its zanpakuto. The more he bonded with it, the more the hogyoku forged a relationship with him and read deeper into his heart.

Monster Aizen managed to damage Ichigo and I guess since he realised that lives were at stake here, he gives up trying to understand Aizen and ends it. You can see the look Ichigo gives to Aizen's “dead” body and his reaction when he found out he was still alive.

“Hogyoku has determined I no longer need a Zanpakuto!”

Once again, Aizen relies on the Hogyoku rather than his own zanpakuto. His zanpakuto is not disappearing because he has become more powerful. it's because he himself has replaced it with a new weapon.

And once that was done, the Hogyoku managed to bond with Aizen more, and it read deeper into his heart and ultimately saw what his true desire was. The desire to be normal so he can relate to others. So the Hogyoku granted Aizen his wish.

In the end, Aizen lost because he himself does not understand what he truely wants: to be a god or to connect with others. In contrast to Ichigo who has fully accepted himself.

*btw I believe aizen did lose his zanpakuto here, but during the events before tybw, well he did alot of reflection with himself and his zanpakuto spirit and thus, he got back his powers which is probably why he didn't know who yhwach was seeing when he was fighting him

TYBW

In tybw we see Aizen back again, even more stronger than before as stated by urahara and it also seems he has kyoka suigetsu's power back again.

And from what we can tell, Aizen is back to his normal "arrogant" self with a little twist. Starting with his interaction with yhwach.

Aizen pokes fun at yhwach for “having more trouble with kurosaki Ichigo” then he had forseen. But Yhwach refutes back at him and tells Aizen, “not to project his insecurities onto me” (lmao yhwach) but funny enough, Aizen dosen't even try and talk back. He instead ignores him and tells yhwach he plans to stop him.

“so you see me as Ichigo Kurosaki? Fascinating...”

another moment where the old aizen wouldn't have done: using himself as a shield/sacrifice to help to defeat the enemy. I guess yhwach was right, “to join forces when confronted by a common enemy, is this not the actions of those cowards you detest so much?”

Not only that, aizen was trusting the fact that ichigo could figure out that he activated kyoka suigetsu to deliver the blow to Ichigo. A complete contradiction on his statement on “trust is the same thing as reliance”

People always see that moment as a badass moment, but personally this was when I knew tybw aizen was not the same aizen as before.

This is probably why Aizen was getting stronger, he is not scheming anything anymore, and thus has no choice but to do a reflection on himself and has to come to terms with his conflicting desires. The more he understands himself, the more stronger he would become.

And lastly, we have iconic panel of Aizen speech on courage.

There is nobody in bleach that embodies the word "courage" more then Ichigo. He experienced all kind of defeats which shaped him as a person. Even when he was faced with a stronger opponent, never once did he back out and instead he pushed forward and conquered his fear.

Something Aizen was not capable of. Aizen was afraid of his own conflicting desires that lies within deep in his heart. Because he thinks that part of him wont help accomplish what he set out to do and thus, refused to acknowledge that other part of him.

But Ichigo instead accepted both the quicy and Hollow parts as Zangestu. Both who are also conflicting parts of him.

Aizen is definitely returning in the hell arc, szyal stating that the reason why the gates of hell were shut was because of the immense spitrual pressure of aizen. The gotei 13 will have to come to terms that despite how shitty aizen is, they can not deny he is STRONG. And will have no choice but to ask him for his strength. I would really be vv interesting to see how aizen would play out and his role.

#aizen #sosuke aizen #bleach #character analysis #intotyun:analysis

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simpforrooster · 2 years

Text

you don't see it.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!Reader

summary: Jake is sick of you talking about Rooster and takes matters into his own hands.

a/n: i'm sorry y'all. this is straight trash, but i can't go on until its up and posted LOL. i hope y'all are having a great weekend!

t/w: alcohol, some cursing, friend!jake, jealous!rooster

You didn’t like Rooster. Well, let’s back up.

You liked him, you just didn’t like Rooster. You didn’t like those silly Hawaiian shirts. You didn’t like those Ray Bans he wore and would look at you over the frames of them. You didn’t like that sandy hair and tan skin. You definitely didn’t like that 70’s ‘stache. Nor did you wonder what it felt like against your face to kiss him.

Nope. None of it. Sometimes, it felt like you were the only girl in the word immune to the man called Rooster.

Of course you never found yourself daydreaming about the man. Or wishing you were wrapped up in those strong arms. You found it easy to ignore watching him flirt with other women. You didn’t need to be jealous.

No matter how much you wanted those words to be true, they weren’t.

You are completely in love with the guy, and he only sees you as a friend. He’s even mentioned a time or two what a great person you were to have around. “I couldn’t ask for a better friend,” he’d told you. That comment resulted in throwing back several shots of tequila, and Jake having to bring you home.

****

“He only sees me as a friend,” you whine to Jake later, hanging all over him, the alcohol making it hard to stand on your own. You hook an arm around Jake’s neck, holding on with all your might.

“Why doesn’t he like me like that, Jakey?” you asked. You are the only one allowed to call him this. The first time it slipped out, Coyote immediately tried to make it a thing. Jake almost clobbered him over the pool table.

Jake hits you with a deep chuckle. “It’s his loss, babe.” His arm encircles your waist, keeping you upright.

“Why don’t you just date me, Jakey?” you ask the blonde fighter pilot, your sober thoughts coming out of your drunk mouth.

Jake chuckles again and the sound does something to you. Despite the man’s animosity and egotistical attitude toward the rest of the crew, he always seemed to have a soft spot for you.

“You know I’m no good for you, babydoll,” his southern twang stirs emotions deep within you.

“I’m sure I could handle you,” you quip. The flirting between the two of you is nothing new. It’s pretty much standard practice. Especially after a few drinks.

But Jake knows Rooster is the one you want to be with.

Jake grins. “Hmmm, but I don’t think I could handle you.” Jake pulls you closer, moving his mouth close to your ear. His hot breath causes a pink flush to fall across your cheeks. “Don’t look now, but the object of your affections seems to be mighty jealous.”

You know when someone says, “don’t look now” you immediately look? Naturally, this is your first course of action. Rooster watches the two of you, a sneer on his face. A look you’ve never seen on him before.

“He does seem jealous, huh?” You turn back to Jake, your eyes wide.

“Wanna make it worse?” he asks, mischief in those green eyes.

“What did you have in mind?”

Jake expertly positions you with your back perfectly to Rooster. “Don’t freak out,” Jake warns. He places a soft hand across your mouth and leans in, placing a kiss against his own hand.

You know exactly how this looks, and decide to play it up, locking your arms back around his neck. This whole façade has your face burning bright red, only to add to what you want Rooster to think.

“Go get me another drink, darlin’,” Jake winks. Going to get Jake a drink puts you right next to Rooster, and he seems itching to say something to you.

“So you and Hangman?” his deep voice calls to you. His Hawaiian shirt is hanging off his shoulders, a white tank underneath tight across his chest.

“We’re just friends,” you say lamely.

Rooster lets out a whistle. “Yeah, that didn’t look like ‘two friends’.”

“What’s it to ya, anyway?” you push. The tension between the two of you sucks the alcohol from your system, clearing your head.

Or maybe it was the fact that Jake cut you off twenty minutes ago.

“Just be careful is all,” he tells you, bringing his beer to his lips.

“You really don’t see it do you?” you mumble, your annoyance taking over.

“See what?”

“Rooster, I practically throw myself at you, and you just remind me of what a great friend I am.” Now that the confession has left your mouth, there is no taking it back now. You hold your breath waiting for his reply.

Rooster looks at you like you just asked him a difficult riddle and he has 2.3 seconds to answer until he’s done for.

“Forget it,” you resign, turning to join Jake at the pool table. Chills run down your body when a strong arm stops you from taking another step. Rooster’s calloused hand grips your wrist like a lifeline.

Rooster spins you back toward him and crashes his lips against yours. It takes you a moment to fully register what is happening. Getting over the fact that the man of your dreams is kissing you, you grip the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you.

“Get a room!” Jake calls from the back, satisfied Rooster finally came to his senses.

“I’m sorry I was an idiot,” Rooster smirks. “Let me make it up to you.”

Rooster slides cash across the bar to Penny, who is rolling her eyes at the two of you. He takes your hand in his, and pulls you from the bar and toward his old Bronco.

He pins you against the cool metal of the car, trapping you between his body. “I gotta wipe that memory of Hangman’s kiss from your mind.”

You let out a crazed giggle, and pull the man back down to your mouth.

“I didn’t kiss him, Roos. He was trying to make you jealous so you’d make a move. He’s sick of me gushing over you.”

Rooster answers you with a kiss that would certainly be enough to make you forget a Jake Seresin kiss.

masterlist

#rooster x reader #rooster #rooster x oc #rooster fluff #rooster top gun #top gun imagine #topgun #top gun maverick #topgun fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradleybradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw #bradley x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic

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dariaslookalike · 3 months

Text

Building Houses and Burning Bridges Pt 2: The Proof is in the Pudding. Or the Banana Bread

Summary:

It seems, oddly enough, that Gregory House lives to annoy you. He takes 'arseholish boss' to the next level. Wake up in the morning, ready to have breakfast, and drive to the hospital where you both work? Nope, you're getting a text that says you're late to his impromptu 4:30 AM meeting where he's had the 'breakthrough of the century' on the team's latest case. Get your hair cut and walk into work, for once feeling confident? Nope, he's saying that he would have done a better job blinded, hands tied and going through Vicodin withdrawals. Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, prove him wrong and attempt to wipe the cockiness off his face? Nope, you're simply slow because you didn't get to your diagnosis quicker and weak-willed because you didn't fight him for it in the beginning. Everything House does infuriates you, and it seems everything you do infuriates him. No wonder you end up pinned to the wall of your apartment and groping him like your life depends on. And knowing House, it very may well.

Warnings: Adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Current Status: Ongoing

Masterlist: Building Houses and Burning Bridges

Next Chapter: Pt 3

-----------------------

There's an odd numbness that you feel on the bus ride home from your interview(s). Almost like shell shocked. When you step onto the bus, the driver smiles at you, and your brain fights to conform your lips into one. But, when you sink onto the fabric chairs, you let your eyes go out of focus and tune out the murmurings of other passengers. It's expected of course, from the day you've had. You have been picked apart and put back together again, over and over, and experienced a dizzying amount of emotions.

There was anxiety, of course; but also an odd sense of pride and happiness from your interview with Cuddy. You spoke confidently. You had the credentials, the experience, and the eagerness to learn that allowed you to win over the Dean of Medicine herself. She had praised you on all of the above.

But there was also anger. Annoyance. And an overflow of self-doubt from your interview with House. Honestly, you thought Cuddy's warning of the Diagnostic doctor was exaggerated, simply to keep you on edge for the remainder of your evening. But after meeting him yourself, the sincerity of her warning became apparent.

He was rude; egotistical; and most definitely infuriating. Your first interaction with him was not during the interview, but rather under the guise of making awkward small talk with a patient waiting for House. He had then proceeded to degrade you; and later, belittle and mock you. All within less than half an hour.

And then he did something incredibly surprising. He hired you. It was awkward, sitting back down to his desk and collecting manilla folder after manilla folder of official guidelines, resources, and random paperwork. You had half a mind to slam it on his desk and tell him where he could shove his paperwork. But, like you said: You were willing to put up with rudeness, as floor mat-y as that sounds.You needed this job.

Moving across the country, leaving behind (admittedly, a small amount of) friends, and paying off a collective ten years of medical training and education had left you broker, than you were willing to admit. Two-minute noodles had become your new five-star meals. The heels you were wearing were gorgeous. You haggled for $12 for them from an op shop; you had reattached the heel itself through superglue and determination alone.

Hence, the rackety bus you were now on. It was near comical. The broken air conditioning, which was heaving out pathetic warm puffs, dripped steadily onto the back of a man's jacket. When the driver took a corner too quickly, one of the doors swung open an inch only to slam close again when the bus straightened out. There were four speakers in the bus and there was only one that worked; it had been scratching out 'Careless Whisper' on a loop for thirty-seven minutes.

How many times would Geroge Michael never dance again? More importantly, how many times could you hear him sing about it before you banged your head against the glass and tried to give yourself an aneurysm through blunt force trauma?

You were lucky in some aspects; being a 'gifted child' had you speeding through courses in high school and graduating from tertiary education extremely early. Most specialists were in their early-mid thirties. You were still in your late twenties.

The demands of school, your previous residency, and various jobs meant that you didn’t leave many people behind. There was Bailey, who you would occasionally have coffee with; when you worked together and were desperate to waste hours at a stifling desk job, he would make riddles that you could never solve. And Ms Delon, your greying and wrinkled neighbour, who, every fortnight, would bring out her yellowed recipe book and teach you something new and pour you cup after cup of English tea. If it was relevant, you would have put your ability to make four different kinds of pie, seven cakes, nine pasta dishes, and one hell of a banana bread from scratch on your resume. The mailman that would slip you a postage stamp every time he stopped outside of your building (this one was odder than anything; you had never asked him to do, but smiling at him and receiving a 10-cent stamp with a photo of a furry kitten was nice, nonetheless).

You’re stumped for a moment, and wonder if you missed anyone; but no. Pathetically, the only friends you had left were an old coworker, a widower, and your mailman. God, you needed to get out more. Maybe the crazy alcoholic extroverts in high school were onto something. Or at least, on something.

Clubbing could wait until you had settled into your new job, however. You had been scrambling for a stable job and to pay off your debts. When the diagnostic position at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was advertised, you crossed your fingers and prayed to gods you didn't believe in, and applied.

You couldn't tell yet if it was a malevolent force that had twisted fate around. You were stuck working side by side with House for the foreseeable future. You grumble to yourself as you step off the bus and the cold night surrounds you. Of course, when House gets mentioned, even within the mental confines of your psyche, it begins to rain. Malevolent force indeed. It's not long before the droplets become torrential, and you make the decision to cover your 'oh-so-important' paperwork with your coat and sprint down the streets as fast as your heels will allow you.

By the time you reach your fading, cracking, and slightly mildew-smelling apartment, you look like a drowned rat. Hissing as you turn on the bright overhead lights, you sound like one too. The paperwork, clutched in your numb hands is pristine, save for a few crinkled edges and crumpled folders. You set it down, and lock the heavy deadbolt across your door.

Sighing, you kick off your heels and detangle yourself from your suffocating clothes. You grimace as you pad across your apartment, leaving a wet trail of footprints in your wake. Your apartment is still in the very early stages of moving in, but it’s become a ritual of sorts to turn on your kettle, reuse the one bowl you dug out from somewhere, and make chicken noodles.

You breathe the salty, artificial flavouring in, but, when you feel goosebumps across your chest and arms, you decide the noodles can cook for a while longer.

Connected to your bedroom, the bathroom door needs to be shouldered to open, and you almost want to yell out an apology to your neighbours when it screeches against the tiles. You don’t however. You’ve been sleeping here for a week now, and every night, without fail, there would be banging, crashing, and lots of moaning from the apartment next to you. The ritualistic orgies they must have been having meant that they could deal with your squeaky doors.

Your eyes skim across the bathroom. Your brain isn’t familiar with your housing yet. It’s like you except for the same tiles, the same paned windows and shining taps of where you left. Instead, there’s a spattering of dark flecks against the roof. You stubbornly advert your eyes from the mould. You’ll clean it tomorrow. Or the next day. Fine- whatever day you were able to fish a stepladder and bleach out of your arse.

The hot water burns away the evidence of the day. Your cheap makeup, vanilla perfume, sweat; everything is down the drain. You drag your hands down your face and hold your breath until your lungs begin to burn. Maybe you should have been more assertive in your interviews. Maybe if you had been funnier, nicer, prettier, smarter, perkier, ruder, or one of the million things you weren’t, House would have taken a liking to you. Maybe you should have been less willing to blatantly cop his abuse, now and every future Monday-Friday. Maybe, maybe, maybe. It fills your head, and you practice breathing in deeply. And breathing out. Repeat. Breathe in deeply. And out. Repeat.

The maybes don't disappear but they become quieter in your head. By the time you’re in the middle of an epic concert finale, near screaming “Guilty feet have gaaat no rhythm!”, the maybes are just static, background noise.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrap yourself in the lone, fluffy towel hung in your bathroom. The shower head drips behind you, matching your heartbeat steadily. You brush your teeth, and gag when you scrub your tongue. The warm water has left you tired. Sore. The paperwork can wait until tomorrow.

For now, you collapse onto your uncovered mattress, naked and still wet from your shower. Mountains of boxes surround you; the tape containing them hasn’t even been cut open yet. You tell yourself that unpacking can wait until tomorrow too, and you drift off into a restless sleep.

It’s filled with images of House in a wheelchair, wearing very provocative clothing. “Premium Cripple Hooker rates apply,” he whispers seductively to you. —--------- The next morning you curse yourself, and begin to pick up the heavy, wet pile of clothing by your front door, and eat a pathetic, slimy breakfast of your forgotten noodles. You’re determined that this weekend your apartment will look like the cover of some overpriced magazine or at the very least, be unpacked. But come Sunday night, you’ve only assembled one ikea coffee table and still have a third of your boxes remaining.

To be fair, the ikea table took the longest of those two chores; you had a packet of nails when you needed screws, dowels that splintered into pieces when you jammed them into the wood, and a hammer when you needed a screwdriver. An abrupt walk around your busy, dingy neighbour led you to a corner ‘mum and pops’ hardware store. By the fourth trip, when you needed a box of lightbulbs (because, in your excitement to have finally finished the table, you swung your hands up and your brand new screwdriver performed an acrobatics routine, perfectly sticking the landing in your overhead light), the Pop of the ‘mum and pops’ shop greeted you by name.

After the scarring ikea incident, your stomach was growling. Noodles couldn’t cut this kind of hunger any more; maybe your body was building a resistance to the starchy goodness. So, sliding on your shoes one more time and slipping your keys and wallet into your coat, you walked along the icy pathway. You stopped at the one place you knew so far, and raised your hands in defence when the bell chimed, announcing your arrival.

“I am NOT here to buy anything again. Well. At least for today.”

‘Pop’ let out a hearty laugh, clutching at his gut. He was a heavy, older man, and a smoker from the smell of it. You hoped you didn’t see him at work anytime soon. He sure saw you enough at his.

“Honey,” His Slavic accent was thick. The nickname wasn’t the same sneering word that some men yelled at you, but rather kind and endearing, as if he was chortling at his young grandaughter. “If you keep coming back, I’ll be able to retire soon. But,” He gestures at you, in big sweeping movements, ”You didn’t break another bulb? Or build another desk?”

“Thankfully, no. I need groceries, and I was hoping you’d know if there was store around here? I still haven’t learnt my way around yet.”

Pop looks around the store, empty aside from you. You supposed not many people ventured outside in these frigid weathers. He smiles, and you watch in amusement as his moustache tickles his cheeks. “I’ll show you. I have to have break now anyway. Otherwise,” His voice drops low, “The wife will murder me. Says I need to ‘take it easy’. Psh.”

He hangs his apron up, and places a sign on the locked door, saying he will be back within the hour. Together you walk down the winding and cracked pathways. He reveals his name isn’t Pop, but rather Josef. You laugh and tell him you might just keep calling him Pop. He laughs, and says “Why not? I already have four grandchildren who do.”

It’s easy to talk with him. Both of your breaths fan out in front of you, in plumes of warm air. You tell him about your new job and deep lines appear in his forehead. “So far away. Hard work too.” he says and you can’t help but nod. You can’t imagine Pop as a young man, or in his youth; he seems like the man designed to be a grandfather. Regardless, he tells you lots of things. His migration here, when he was younger than you. The years of taxi driving and late nights he did to buy his store and settle down with his bookkeeping wife. His beautiful, but busy children. You smile and nod along, and you quickly arrive to the small grocery store.

There’s not much to choose from but you get the essentials: milk, flour, bread, sugar, cereal, pasta, sauces, and spices. As a last-ditch attempt to appear as if you care about your nutrition, you grab some fruits and vegetables. The woman ringing you up, at the store's lone register, wishes you a good, warm day, and you thank her.

Pop waits for you outside, smoking a cigarette. When he sees you return, he quickly blows away the smoke and stamps the butt out on the ground. Sheepishly he says, “My wife wants me to quit.” He leaves it at that, and you don’t bother telling him the risks and the benefits of quitting. His wife sounds smart enough.

You’re sceptical when he offers to carry some of your groceries, but relent when he insists. Just like that, you walk back to his store and continue trading stories. When you tell him that yes, you will be fine and that yes, you’re strong enough, he hands you your remaining bags of groceries.

“Come by, anytime you need something, kid. The store’s quieter in winter, and I’m always there if you need a hand.”

You smile and try to ignore the tears that spring to your eyes. “Thanks, Pop. I appreciate it.”

He claps you on the shoulder, unlocks the door and shuffles back towards his counter as if he had never left.

You pack your groceries away in the quiet of your apartment. Thinly dicing some onions, garlic and carrots, the methodological chopping of your knife is all that is heard. When you’re finished cooking, and feasting on what tastes like heaven after weeks of two-minute noodles, you shuffle to your bed. It now has a sheet on it and a blanket, and you supposed that was an upgrade from the previous night.

You stared up at your ceiling for half an hour.

One hour.

Two.

By the third, you whip your blanket and send it flying into your wall, where it crumples to the floor.

No rest for the wicked. Or the anxious.

It’s not like you could prepare for your first day of work any more. You had your clothes hanging up. Your lunch was packed. But, your feet lead you back to the kitchen. You pop your tongue from the roof of your mouth and heave. Stress baking was the best alternative to laying in bed awake. At least it was somewhat productive. Okay, that may have been a lie. At least the sugar would make you feel better.

By the end of your so-called ‘productivity’, your kitchen looked like a bomb site. But you were satisfied with your creations. You begin to walk back to your room, but high pitched and near frantic moaning echoed through your walls. Jesus. Did they have to get it on right next your pillows?

You grab at your blanket and pillows where they sprawl across the floor, and huff, returning to lay on the rug in the lounge room. No couch yet. You had traded $35 dollars for your table, and your bank account was screaming gainst that, let alone a new, or even old, couch. You wriggle like a drowning worm and scooch until your head is under the table examining your handwork. There’s no jutting screws or splintering cracks. You're content with your examination and intend to crawl back out. But your blanket is too cozy and the pillow you clutch at, too soft. Against your will, you drift off to the warm smell of cinnamon and timber. —----- You bolt awake and slam your head against the table.

“Fuck!” You yell out, and clutch at the piercing pain in your forehead. For It’s more humiliating this time when you worm-wriggle out from the table. You turn back to the table, sitting up and massaging at your temple. “I should bring some termites home now. Just for you.”

You know you must not have slept long if you’re insulting your table, but you gingerly raise yourself anyway and peer at the clock hung high on the wall. Not even dawn yet. You were so nervous that your brain forced you awake, with ample time. You take a shower, letting cool water run across your face. Your hand wipes at the foggy mirror, and you decide that yes, you will wear more cheap makeup today. At least to cover the angry red line crossing over your forehead.

You lock the door on your way out and walk gently down your stairs, trying not to slip and eat ass on the sidewalk. You place a container outside of ‘Mom and Pop’s’, and scrawl out a message onto a note. ‘Thank you for all the help! Hope you like banana bread’. You sign your name next to a small smiley face.

The ride was uneventful and quiet. The driver did give you an odd look, but you thought it was fairly justified. You were bundled in your thick coat, and desperately balancing a plastic container, your binder of paperwork, and your bag across your arms. You let it all sprawl across the seat next to you when you sat down. There weren’t many commuters this early in the morning; the windows were fogged, and the streets still dark.

Your shift started at 7, but the commute was long. The sun is just rising when the drops your at the hospital’s stop, and you hop off, thanking the driver. Despite the empty streets you were cruising through a minute ago, the hospital is bustling. It never sleeps, it seems. You smile at the nurses you pass and beeline for the elevators. Your stomach twists in on itself, and you sigh, starting to walk towards the conference room. You reach it, but peer into House’s office. The light’s are off and it’s devoid of the snarky man.

You breathe a sigh of relief, and slip into the conference room. You tuck your bag under the sink and out of sight. It doesn’t have anything valuable, but you have a mean coffee mug in there that you would hate to get stolen. By 'mean' you meant it had a sticker on it and had survived more potential spills than you could count. Next, your container is set next to the small kitchenette and you debate if you should put a note on it, like you did Pop’s. But you decide against it. You’ll be able to tell the team in person and hopefully, the banana bread acts like an ice breaker of sort. No more awkward questions of your hobbies or your family, but simply sweet, bready goodness.

You scan the small kitchenette area but quickly come to the conclusion that you have nothing left to procrastinate with. To Cuddy it is.

You spin, and instantly scream, raising your binder over your head and ready to swing it down. House blinks at you, like you’re a startling bug crawling across his cane.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, lowering your binder and clutching at your chest. “Do you sneak up on all your new workers? Jesus.”

He shakes his head like a bird dusting off its feathers. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realise I had to walk into my meeting room with a belly dancing skirt on. Maybe I should. Help people hear me more.”

"I'm sure it would bring out your eyes."

Your eyes flick up to his. God they're blue. They're the paradoxal chilly sky on a sunny winter day. Maybe you were right about the skirt.

“Door?”, he says as he cranes his neck forward and peers at you.

“Huh?”

"God, are you actually deaf?" He snaps his figures in front of your face, and you startle, ripping your eyes away from his as he speaks slowly. “Did.You. Hit. Your. Head. With. A. Door?”

Your eyes widen and you scoff. “I'm not deaf. And how did you-”

Impatiently, he cuts across you. “Slight swelling. Redness, which your concealer doesn’t hide as well as you think it does. So was it a door you ran into or what? A pole?”

You chew your cheek. “...A table.”

“Ah,” he spins, and begins to limp away from you.

You stare at his back, puzzled. You decide you don't want to delve further in your embarrassing morning, or ponder his oddness; rather, you race after him. He doesn’t slow down, even when your shoes slap across the vinyl floor. Curse him and his height. Even with his cane, you jog slightly and reach him when he’s turning a corner.

“Um, look can I give you something?”

He doesn’t stop, but turns his head to you as he strides past the conference room. “Don’t say um. It makes me want to say no.”

“Oh, well, can I-”

“Don’t say oh either. Or well. Or- actually. It’s not the words making me want to say no. So no.”

You grit your teeth but try to cover it with a nod of your head. “Fine. I won’t ask then. I have paperwork to give you. From our interview.”

At that, he pauses and turns to face you. “And you think I would want that because..? Give it to Cuddy. Or don’t. Either way I won’t look at it.”

You blink. He just strides away from you and you huff at his retreating form. “Thanks, Doc.”

Cuddy is much more pleasant to visit. She doesn’t mention your forehead, even though you catch her eyes flicking up to it. She simply smiles at you and welcomes you into her office. You give her your paperwork and she thanks you. You think she is like a regal queen; kind but a ruler that demands respect. That is until you hand her House’s paperwork and she rolls her eyes and says “Arsehole. Did he give you a hard time about it?”

You just laugh. “No, he’s fine. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but it wasn’t too bad.”

She scoffs. “There isn’t a right side of the bed when it comes to House.”

When you leave Cuddy and return to the conference room, you find there are three people in there. They seem to be bickering about something, and you catch the words "No way in hell!" and "-can't cook for his life!". When you step into the room though, they fall silent and turn to you with quizzical eyes. You introduce yourself quickly. “Hi. This is my first day, I’ll be working with you all on diagnostics as a cardiologist.”

The team amazingly welcomes you with open arms. Quite literally. The beautiful, smiling woman sitting at the desk practically leaps from her chair and hugs you. Allison Cameron is the first to introduce herself to you and she pulls back from the hug slightly, to whisper conspiratorially to you. "Finally. I have been stuck with these boys for far too long."

You laugh, and find yourself doing so genuinely. Robert Chase is next and he walks over to shake your hand briefly. He too leans in to whisper, “I hope she’s not turning you against us already.”

Foreman introduces himself and has a firm grip as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you and get some fresh blood on the team. Have you met House yet?”

“Yep,” You pop the P, and slide into of the chairs across from Cameron and beside Chase.

Foreman sighs. “I hope he hasn’t scared you off. He can be…”

“An arsehole?” chimes Chase.

“Hey.” Cameron pins Chase with a stare. “He baked us banana bread today. Isn’t that showing us that he’s putting in an effort? Even if it’s just because we have a new hire.” She turns to you and her lips dip down slightly. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, or he’s trying to poison us.” Laughs Chase.

You blink, and are about to interject when Foreman speaks up. “C’mon Chase. Cameron’s right, it might be a good thing. Maybe if he’s able to bake banana bread, he’ll be able to take out all his anger in the kitchen rather than on us.”

Chase chuckles, and shakes his head half-heartedly. “At that rate, we’ll be getting tira misu and trifle every Wednesday.”

Foreman lets out a sigh and turns to you, moving the conversation along before you can correct them. "We have drinks and dinner tonight and most Mondays. It's easier to deal with the week- scratch that, it's easier to deal with House if you're nursing a hang over. It's like two negatives, they cancel out. Do you wanna join?"

You smile. "I'd love to. I'm not a big drinker, but I'd like to check out the food that's here. I'm still acclimating, I suppose."

Chase drags his eyes up and down you, settling on your face when he speaks. "Don't worry. We won't throw you in the deep end like House will."

You nod at him, and wonder if he's always so blatant in staring at people's tits, when the man of the hour walks in.

“Good morning,” says Cameron. You see Chase roll his eyes slightly, and Forman and him make fish-like kissy faces at each other. House’s eyes flick towards them and they stop in an instant like schoolboys caught throwing paper at each other.

“Morning.” He busies making himself a coffee and doesn’t offer anyone any. “I’m not going to bother with introductions. I think newbie has that covered. I will however, tell you all to put on your big-boy pants and start thinking. 24-year-old female. Drowsiness. Erratic behaviour when she is awake. No schizophrenia, depression or anything of the sorts.”

He sips from his fresh mug and replaces it with a whiteboard marker, which he uses to write the remainder of her symptoms up. Foreman offers up one explanation, but Cameron is quick to say it doesn’t fit all the symptoms. Chase offers another, but at that, House scoffs. “No. God no. What 24-year-old woman have you met with that?”

Chase shrugs. “She’d be the first. But it’s possible.”

House tuts. “Possible is not what I’m looking for. I want probable. Newbie,” He pins you with a stare. “Any ideas? Or did you hit your head too hard? Again?”

You flush and try to steady your breathing when all their eyes become trained on you. “Uh, it could-”

“What did I say about ‘uh’?”

The flush deepens and you feel embarrassment creep over your shoulders, even moreso when Cameron winces in sympathy. “It’s probable that it’s multiple conditions affecting her at once.” You spout off Foreman's idea, and another infection, and House keeps staring at you, as if he’s waiting for you to wither away under his gaze.

But Cameron nods before you crumble. “I mean, it’s more likely than everything else. And it would make sense for her sudden personality shifts and drowsiness.”

House finally looks away from you and sighs. “Fine. Fine. Foreman and Chase, get a MRI. Newbie, you can get a lumbar puncture, if you can manage that. Cameron, get every known substance that could cause that reaction in her, and test for it. Not just newbie’s idea.” When no one moves, he makes a chopping motion with his hand. “Go on then. I’ve got a soap to catch.”

Everyone’s quick to gather their things. Chase and Foreman practically dash out of the room, as if House’s presence burned them. As Cameron stands up she calls out. “And House?”

He’s half-scowling and turns back to face her from the conjoining office door. “What?”

She smiles, and you swear you can see a light dusting of pink on her cheeks. “Thank you for the banana bread. It’s good to know you are capable of caring, to some extent.”

Ohhhh. She’s got it bad. So bad. And for House, out of everyone? The thought makes you almost sick. Not because he was an unattractive. Hell, you'd go to bat that he handsome. But there was nothing romantic or even kind about his words. Now you know why Chase and Foreman had their mocking kiss contest.

House squints at her as she strides out the door and down the corridor, and you take that as your sign to beeline for the door. You practically scramble up and your foot is half way out the door when he says your last name. “Here. Now.”

You sigh, steeling yourself, and spin back around. “Yes, House?”

He looks perplexed. “Why do the ducklings think I made banana bread?”

You chuckle. “Why should I know? I’ve been with Cuddy all morning. Y’know, giving her your paperwork.”

He rolls his blue eyes and they return to stare at you. “I’m not sure if you understand the whole thing of ‘genius doctor’ or not, but I pick up on things others don’t. You smell like cinnamon. Your folder of paperwork had crumbs on it. You have flour on the side of your neck. You’ve been baking, and” He strides over, opening your tupperware container on the kitchenette’s counter. “From my team’s fantastic deduction skills, it’s banana bread.”

Your eyebrows draw closer in an instant. “You smelt me?!”

House scoffs. “That doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell them it was your banana bread? I’m assuming you wanted to make a good first impression, but that all goes to waste if they think I baked it. It makes me look bad, too. Sappy. Caring." He shivers. “I think I might gag.”

“I didn’t tell them,” You huff, “Because they thought that you making something for them meant you were finally being nice to them.”

His lips flatten and he shakes his head at the floor. “God, they really should have known it wasn’t me then.” He raises his head and peers at you. “So when are you going to break the news?”

“I’m not going to.”

He sarcastically nods along. “Ah yes. The best start to workplace friendships is with a lie.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s banana bread. Not perjury.”

His eyebrows shoot up and he dips a hand into your container, breaking off a corner. He pops it in his mouth. “Well, it sure tastes like perju- oh my god.” His hand whips to his mouth and he slowly chews, and then groans.

Your breath catches in your throat. Broken tooth? Abscess in his gum? Severe allergy to bananas? “Are you okay? House?”

“What, in the name of Cuddy, did you put in this?” His tone makes it clear he’s not in pain and the tips of your ears go red.

“Look, if it’s that bad you don’t have to be rude abou-”

He shakes his head and spits out, “No, it’s good. The best banana bread I’ve had. And that’s saying a lot, seeing how it’s the Tuesday special in the cafeteria.”

There’s a beat of silence. You blink at each other from aross the room, as if you’re both processing his words. Your eyes betray you, because for a moment, it looks like he's blushing. But then he clears his throat, covering the container and stepping away from it. You track his movements, studying him. Was he lying to you, and trying to hide his repulsion of your baking skills? Was it all mockery?

House just raises an eyebrow. “Well? Get to it newbie.”

You breathe in and nod, turning around. Strange and awkward encounters with House would become your normal.

Again, when you’re halfway through the door he calls out your last name. “Get a copy of the results to me by the hour. And that recipe…Please.”

The flame spreads from your ears down to your cheeks and you nod as if it’s the only thing you know how to do.

Who knew that House’s weak spot was banana bread?

#greg house x f!reader #gregory house fic #gregory house #gregory house x reader #greg house #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #house md

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missmeinyourbones · 2 years

Text

IT’S NOT LIVING IF IT’S NOT WITH YOU

in which satoru just really wants to spend time with you

Time is no friend of Satoru. It’s something he's learned the hard way.

Don't get him wrong, he knows that no one’s tomorrow is ever promised. He does suppose it’s a bit egotistical for him to think he’s any objection to the cruel game of life, but hey—what is Gojo Satoru if not selfish, right?

But time moves faster for him than it does for other people, he has less of it to spare. Satoru knew he wasn't meant to stick around too long, in any sense of the word—and truthfully, he had come to terms with it.

He figured he’d make due by making the time he does have count. Spending all of his idle moments with his students, making sure to teach them everything he can for when he can’t. He’d long ago swallowed the pill that his time is limited at best. That he can’t go on like this forever.

And then he met you.

And now, like the selfish bastard he is, forever doesn't sound all that bad if it's by your side. Suddenly, Satoru is made even more aware that every minute of his matters more, every moment spent with you is a moment he isn’t again promised.

The devil himself walks through the door at 6:06 p.m. Your home smells faintly of a recently blown-out candle and lingering tufts of hairspray.

Coincidentally, you happen to be passing by the threshold as he enters. Satoru’s heart drops at the sight of you—and not in the usual sickeningly good way.

He’s quick to notice your put-together appearance, a look he’s able to recognize as one of tiny detail and formal specialty. You look suspiciously exquisite—so naturally, Satoru panics.

His hands are immediately raised in defeat, “Before you yell at me, I have a valid excuse.”

You kiss your teeth through a smile, one that Satoru carefully notes isn't laced with malice.

“I wasn’t gonna yell at you,” you shake your head.

His face scrunches in confusion, and you find your own following suit. “You’re...” your voice trails off as the clock on the wall bares your witness, “barely five minutes late.”

Satoru’s eyes follow yours to where the tiny hands on the clock dance almost completely across from one another down the middle of the circle.

“Really?” he shrugs to himself, pleasantly surprised at his own timing. “Wow, felt a lot longer than that,” he mumbles through a pout.

Faster than the human eye can capture, his hands find your hips as he pulls you into his hold, forcing you to look his way when he plants a sweet kiss on your lips.

”Hi, angel.”

“Hi, Satoru,” you humor him. The grin he flashes you is blinding.

Before he can go in for another kiss, you're wiggling out of his grasp and gently slapping his toned shoulder. “Go hop in the shower quickly, our reservation is at seven.”

Now oddly cold at the sudden loss of your touch, Satoru sighs dramatically.

“Yes, boss,” he rubs his eyes groggily before saluting your way and turning his back to you.

With his shoes and jacket carelessly discarded on the floor, Satoru makes his way to the bathroom. As the door remains open, you expect to hear the familiar sound of the faucet turning on—though the only noise your met with is the sound of your lover’s voice.

“You’re not gonna believe what Shoko said to me today.” His voice is light but still laced with a whiney tone.

“Uh oh,” you dryly retort.

“She said I look like I don’t tip well at restaurants. What does that even mean? Can you believe that?”

“Nope.”

Satoru pokes his head out from the bathroom at your response, blindfold now off but clothes still adorning his body. He stares at you for three silent seconds before narrowing his eyes in an accusatory manner.

“Well, why’d you say it like that?” he grimaces. “Do you think I look like I don’t tip well at restaurants?”

Like muscle memory, your eyes roll back in annoyance.

“No, Satoru, I think everything about you screams ‘rich man who highly values the sacrifice that is customer service,’ now get in the shower.”

He fights off a grin at your quick sarcasm, tongue prodding his cheek as his eyebrows raise in amusement.

“Okay, okay. Just can’t have people thinking I’m a douchebag when I take you out, y’know?” he nods before retreating back into the bathroom (and into the shower, you whimsically pray).

There’s another agonizing moment of silence, and you hold your breath as you wait for the sound of water hitting the ceramic tile to bless your ears.

It doesn’t.

“Baby?”

You sigh in front of the mirror, “What, Satoru?”

“C’mere for a second, wanna show you a video Itadori sent me,” he mindlessly returns to the bathroom's doorframe, shirt now removed (progress, you meekly note) but all attention remains on the phone in hand.

“Can you show me after you’ve showered?” you calmly try to compromise.

Satoru crinkles his nose in offense, “What, do I smell or somethin’?”

“No,” you draw out the syllable, tone slightly high pitched with stress, “you have to start getting ready.”

He groans childishly as he persists, “It’ll only take a second, c’mere.”

The video takes more than a second—one minute and thirty-seven seconds, to be exact. An orange cat hides behind a cabinet corner as another grey cat innocently trots by in the background. After a minute of grueling suspense and quirky background music, the orange cat jumps out to scare the grey one, and the two friends playfully swat and roll around with one another. It's a cute video—one he could've shown you after he showered, but cute.

Face stoic, you nod along in humor. “Very cool, Satoru,” you enable his silly interest. “Now, shower.”

His head falls back on his neck like dead weight in a dramatic groan. “Alright, m’going.”

The faucet is now on. The steam from the boiling water slowly lingers from the bathroom entryway like a phantom. The clock reads a reasonable 6:27 p.m.

Things are looking up. Perhaps you might make this dinner after all—

“Wait, forgot to tell you! During lunch, Nanami—”

Patience wearing thin, the glass in you finally cracks.

“Satoru, if you are not in the shower within the next minute, then I am actually gonna yell at you.”

You turn around in a frenzy to see Satoru now stripped down to just his underwear, but wearing a terribly annoying smirk on his face.

With an agonizingly slow once over your angry frame, his eyebrows raise in entertainment at your irritation,

“Tryna get me naked that badly, huh?”

When you silently turn your back to him in anger, he trots his way over to where you stand in front of the mirror fiddling with the clasp of your necklace. His arms easily wrap around your shoulders, engulfing you in an embrace that you don't yet reciprocate.

“I’m sorry, I just missed you today. Can you blame me?” he rocks the two of you back and forth, trying to make eye contact with you in the mirror as you dodge his gaze. “I went hours without talking to you.”

His statement gets you to look his way with unimpressed eyes, “We were texting.”

“Not the same,” he insists with a pout. “can’t hear the attitude in your voice through the phone.”

And boy, does he try. It’s embarrassing really, how desperately Satoru wishes to hear your voice echoing in his mind throughout all hours of the day. He swears he doesn't even need to sleep so long as your words are tickling his ear. Every text message you send, he musters up every ounce of his imagination to recreate your tone as he reads it aloud in his head. Though entertaining at best, he could never do you justice.

“I missed you too,” your response is quiet, muffled by the forearm you nuzzle into. He immediately tightens his grip around you at the words.

You lift your head up a bit to clearly enunciate your next promise, “But we have all night to be together, okay? So please, for the love of god, shower so we can go to dinner and have a nice night. Together.”

Satoru thinks it over for a second and you swear you see him blush at your sweet confession. You fully expect him to turn it back around on you, to keep putting up a fight that he refuses to lose. A soft kiss on your temple and his loosening arms finding his own sides surprise you.

“Fine,” he whines his way back to the bathroom, “but only because you’re not leaving my side for the rest of the night.”

You wave him off, “Whatever it takes.”

The shower curtain opens and silence follows soon after. It’s officially safe to say that Satoru is finally doing what you asked of him thirty minutes ago. Tying your shoes up by your ankles, you manage to make out the slightest of movement from your peripheral.

Satoru’s head, now soaked and overflowing in bubbles that smell of citrus, pokes out of the doorframe.

“Baby, do you wanna shower with me?”

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru fic #gojo fic #satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru fluff #gojo fluff

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phantomphangphucker · 2 months

Text

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…

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?

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