Prompt 104
Danny finds himself reincarnating, giving it a try so to say. A new start of sorts, though he knows that Tucker will also be somewhere in the world and Sam will be keeping an eye whenever she’s not working on her uh, internship with Overgrowth.
He somehow, despite being in a world of heroes and villains, ends up reincarnating into some sort of assassin cult. Apparently he is keeping the Fenton luck despite a new life. Along with his white hair from his ghost form. Which is understandable with how there’s an ecto-pool in the room over.
He’s pretty sure his father is a fruitloop too, maybe. Well, technically he was a fruitloop for a human, but again. Ecto-pool that he was apparently taking dips in. At least this time he has some baby sisters- even if the toddler one keeps trying to stab him.
Honestly, feels like home.
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Day Two: Tattoos (one of two, because @spurious knows the hold this prompt would have on me) McShep
"Your wrist band."
"Hmmm?"
Rodney points at the black cotton encasing John's wrist with his fork, slighly exasperated. "Wrist band, y'know, the thing you never take off, not even when we…y'know."
"You can say 'make out', Rodney, you're forty years old." John swallows his food, puts his fork down and crosses his arms. "It's full of secrets, McKay."
It's worth it for the frustration and blustering that comes at John from across the table. "This - why - why can't you just -" and Rodney drops his voice to a whisper despite the overwhelming din of the mess, "- let me in a bit more?"
The question lies heavy under John's brow - mainly because he doesn't know the answer himself - and he bows his head slightly. "Rodney, I…"
"Nevermind. Nevermind! It's fine," and Rodney abruptly stands, picks up his tray and makes to leave. John panicks a bit; the fact a wrist band seemed to be standing between his need for self-preservation and the new, exciting life he was building with Rodney seemed stupid and mundane, but he can't find the words to explain this while being surrounded by clattering cutlery and conversations about what others missed on Earth.
"Can you…just come to my quarters, later, Rodney?"
Rodney hesitates, pulling his chin up. "Maybe," and he's gone, just like that.
—
The door opens at Rodney's whim and John jumps up from his bed. "You came."
Rodney holds his arms open indigantly. "I came, I'm here, what about it?"
"Here." John pushes his exposed wrist towards Rodney's face in a near frenzy, a need to be closer to this person he cared too much for - a person that made him crazy with want and the need to take all his known neuroses about being alone and not bottle them away. To share them, to bear them all heart and soul, and John almost feels scared.
"It's - a paper plane? Tattoo?" John drops his wrist, but Rodney catches it before it falls too far. "It's…why do you keep it a secret?When did you get it?"
"Eighteen. I wanted to fly, and the closest I got before the Air Force was making these with Dave on the back porch. And it's a not a secret per se, it's…a reminder, a -" he groans, running his free hand through his hair in frustration - "a piece of me. There, now you know."
Rodney follows him across the room to where John had left his black wrist band, pulling it from his hands before he put it back on. "No, no, I love it."
"What?"
"I - I love it. I can just see young you throwing paper planes and probably not knowing the aerodynamic theories behind them, of course, but -"
"Rodney."
Rodney straightened and cleared his throat in the way John had learnt was his way of apologising. "I just mean that you shouldn't hide it away. Because it's a part of you."
John almost keels over when he feels Rodney's lips on the thin lines of the inked paper plane - gentle, tentative and welcome - and the wrist band stays off for the rest of the evening.
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