#Everyone is fine in the end but a few humans are a little more ghostly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

five-rivers · 2 years

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Dentition

Here's what you need to know about ghostly dentition: For the first few years of unlife, the ghosts of humans have teeth of roughly the same size and shape as they did while alive. However, these are the ghostly equivalent of baby teeth. After a ghost has been dead for at least two years, but no more than five, their teeth will begin to change shape. Change shape, not fall out and be replaced. Ghost anatomy is much more plastic than that of a human. This process takes about one month, give or take. Additionally, if the ghost is one of the lucky few to become venomous, their venom sacs grow in at the same time. Once the process of growing the teeth and associated structures is complete, the fangs are retractable.

Here's what you need to know about half ghost dentition: Half ghosts undergo a similar process. Their human halves reflect the changes. However, they do lose their initial set of teeth to make room for their new ones.

Here's what you need to know about Danny Fenton: He is a half ghost. His luck is also incredible.

Not in a good way, of course.

Danny's whole mouth felt tender, and he didn't know why. The feeling had been building since yesterday morning, but, by this point, it had become almost unbearable. That, coupled with the growing desire to chew on and bite things, was slowly driving him insane.

"It almost sounds like you're teething," said Sam.

Danny grunted dubiously. He had all his adult teeth.

"I mean, it might be a ghost thing," clarified Sam.

"Or you could have burned your mouth on something without realizing it," offered Tucker. "Or you could be getting some canker sores?"

Danny shook his head. That's what he thought at first, when the pain had been limited to the roof of his mouth and a few places on his gums, but now it was everywhere.

Jazz, who was on spring break from college and driving the three of them home from school, made a face. "I hate to suggest this, but do you think Mom and Dad could have put something anti-ghost in our food?"

Danny groaned and let his head fall against the dashboard. It did him no good. In fact, jostling his face made his mouth ache even more. It would be like his parents to unintentionally and unknowingly poison him in the name of protecting him from ghosts.

"I'll cook tonight," said Jazz.

Despite Jazz cooking (and nothing coming to life!), Danny mostly pushed his food around his plate and avoided everyone's eyes. He wasn't sure if the pain killed his appetite, or if the idea of his food being poisoned did it. Either way, he wasn't hungry. He did, however, chew on the collar of his shirt until it was wet and disgusting.

Immediately after dinner, Danny slouched up the stairs and made a beeline for his room. He wanted to sleep this out, if at all possible.

He threw off his normal clothes, threw on his bedclothes, and collapsed, wrapping his covers around him and rolling over instead of climbing under his covers like a normal person. That was fine. He wasn't a normal person.

He went to sleep.

A dream about swimming ended when the thought that the water was only wet on his face crossed Danny's mind. Slowly, he pulled his eyes open, and his brain eventually processed the fact that (a) it was still dark out, and (b) his face was pressed into a truly prodigious amount of drool.

He sat up, the fabric of his pillowcase trying to stick to his face. He threw the pillow to the side, and walked to the bathroom to try and clean up a little before going back to sleep. Usually, Danny had pretty good night vision, to the point of being able to see in the dark, but his vision and brain were so fuzzy at the moment that he fumbled for the bathroom lights anyway, and hissed as the bright lights temporarily blinded him.

Finally, his eyes adjusted enough for him to look up, into the mirror, and his heart almost stopped.

He was covered in blood.

His hands flew up to cover his face as he stumbled back against the far wall. Yes, he was half-ghost and had technically died, that didn't make him immune to shock or particularly happy to see blood all over the side of his face. It hadn't been drool sticking him to the pillow. Not just drool, anyway. It had been blood.

Why was he covered in blood? Had he turned into a vampire in the night? Did he hurt someone? Were vampires based on half-ghosts? Considering Vlad's aesthetic...

No, wait. On second glance, the blood had a distinctly sparkly cast to it. He stepped closer to the mirror, and a shiver of relief work its way into his body. That shimmer was ectoplasm. It was his blood.

But why had he been bleeding? Maybe he had bitten himself.

Or, more likely, whatever the heck was going on with his mouth was reaching a new level of bad. His teeth, now that he was thinking about them and not the blood, hurt much worse than they had when he went to bed.

Hesitantly, he probed his front teeth with his fingers. They moved.

THEY MOVED.

Danny did not often sneak into his sister's room at night for advice, but 'not often' was a far cry from 'never.' Jazz wasn't surprised when he prodded her awake. Sleepy, yes, possibly just a little annoyed at waking up, though that vanished when she saw Danny's stricken face, but not surprised.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I think I'm losing my teeth," said he little brother, eyes wide and a touch too bright in the dark.

Alright, that was unexpected. "What?"

"I woke up, and my teeth were bleeding, and now they're all loose." His voice wobbled.

"Oh," said Jazz, still trying to kick her brain into gear. "Um. Is it a ghost thing, do you think?"

"I don't know," moaned Danny. "Nobody talks to me about anything." He sniffed. "What am I supposed to do?"

That was a good question. What kinds of options did Danny have?

"Do you have any ghost friends you could talk to?" she asked.

"Maybe," said Danny. "But they're far away, and they don't really have human teeth."

Jazz refrained from asking what kind of teeth they did have. She'd known about Danny's ghost powers for over a year, now, and she still only knew a fraction of what he got up to.

"I know you're not going to like this, but, um, what about Vlad?" Danny gave her a horrified glare. "I mean, he knows more about ghosts and half ghosts than we do, and he won't want anyone, you know, examining you. Which is what is going to happen if your teeth fall out."

Danny wilted, and put his hand to his mouth. "I guess." He shook himself. "I woke up in a puddle of my own blood and drool. Mostly blood."

"Ah," said Jazz.

"I'm going to go now."

"He might not appreciate you waking him up in the middle of the night," warned Jazz.

"Vlad doesn't sleep," said Danny.

"I'm sorry," said Jazz, "is that, like, a real thing, or some kind of joke? I'm too tired to tell."

"He's too evil to sleep."

"Danny, really. Don't antagonize him when you want his help."

Danny put his arms around his knees and looked very small. "Okay," he said. "You're right. But what should I do until then? What if- What if one of my teeth really does fall out?"

That image was more disturbing than it had any right to be. "Just go to sleep, and if your teeth do start falling out... I guess we'll deal with it. I've heard putting them in a cup of milk and spit helps preserve them? So they can be re-implanted?"

"Oh," said Danny. "I guess that's good to know."

"Get some sleep," Jazz said again. "First thing tomorrow, I'll drive you to Vlad's."

"I'll just fly."

The conversation with Jazz had been painful. Talking should not be so painful. It sucked. It was the worst. And he was not able to get to sleep again.

As soon as the sun was up, Danny left to harass Vlad. Which was how his brain pronounced 'ask Vlad for help.'

He could hardly believe he was doing this. It was so stupid. Vlad hated him, he wasn't going to help. Maybe he should ask Clockwork, or make the flight to the Far Frozen, even if he wouldn't be able to put up a good fight against a ghost in this state. After all, Vlad would probably try to fight him. At least random ghosts in the Ghost Zone might leave him alone.

Yeah, he didn't believe that either.

He set down right outside Vlad's front gates, invisibly, not sure if he should just phase in, or if he should press the buzzer and wait outside. Usually when he came to Vlad's he was with his parents, Vlad had dragged him there, or they were already in the middle of a fight. He wasn't sure how to... petition Vlad, and that was what he was doing.

Danny pressed the buzzer. Ancients, he hoped Vlad was here and not in Colorado or Wisconsin.

"What?" came the short, clipped, reply. Clearly, Vlad was annoyed at being bothered so early in the morning.

"It's Danny," said Danny. "I need to talk to you about something."

There was a long silence, and Danny wondered if Vlad had chosen to ignore him.

"Daniel." The smoothness of Vlad's tone was broken only by the crackle of the intercom. "What an unexpected surprise. Do come in. I am in my dining room, and I am sure you can find your way."

Given permission, Danny phased through the gates and then the walls of Vlad's mansion. The dining room was, as Vlad had intimated, easy to find, and Danny dropped his invisibility.

Vlad did not look up from his breakfast, which seemed to consist of some kind of complicated omelette. At the smell, Danny's stomach growled. He hadn't a full meal since this time yesterday.

"So," said Vlad. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Daniel?"

Danny looked up at Vlad, then away, then at Vlad again, then away. He glared at Vlad's clean, shiny floor.

"Well, I do hope you haven't come because some cat ghost stole your tongue," said Vlad, sarcastically.

"My teeth are falling out," said Danny. They were certainly looser than yesterday.

Vlad stared at Danny for several heartbeats, then started laughing. He actually slapped the table a few times. Danny glared. If he knew how to do the eye laser thing, Vlad would be on fire.

"Oh, my dear boy," said Vlad, "forgive me. Has no one told you about ghost fangs?" He suppressed a snicker with his hand.

"No," said Danny.

"Well, that's quite an oversight in your education, isn't it? If you had accepted my offer..." he trailed off suggestively, almost purring.

Danny tried to purse his lips, but winced as doing so pushed his front teeth back.

Vlad smirked, and gave him a quick rundown of how teeth developed in the recently dead. "... of course, he finished. Half-ghosts like us are different. We, unlike them, do lose our original teeth. But you'll be glad to know the whole ordeal will be over in a month."

"A month? My teeth won't grow back for a month? Vlad, I have school! I can't hide that I don't have any teeth for a month!"

"Doesn't your spring break start today?" asked Vlad patting his lips with a napkin.

"What does that matter if this will last a month?"

"Calm down, boy. Your most visible teeth should regrow themselves in a week." Vlad pushed his food aside. "Of course, those will include your fangs, and part of why this takes a month is that the last molars and the muscles and bones involved in retracting and extending the fangs are developing. Nevertheless, that shouldn't be an issue so long as you avoid talking and eating around people less oblivious than your father."

"Hey!"

"Or perhaps you could convince people that you are wearing novelty fangs. Your friend Samantha enjoys that kind of thing, correct?"

"It's Sam," grumbled Danny, resenting the fact that Vlad was giving him good advice. "What about before my front teeth grow back in?" he asked. He didn't want to refer to any of his teeth as fangs. He didn't even want to think about having fangs.

(Hair made of fire and eyes as red as fresh blood flickered in his mind's eye.)

"Well, as I said, you're on spring break. Wouldn't this be a wonderful time to take advantage of, say, an internship opportunity with your beloved godfather?"

"I'm sorry, what? My what?"

"Me, Daniel. I'm offering to let you stay with me until your teeth have grown in enough to pass muster."

"Absolutely not," said Danny.

Vlad scoffed, and leaned back in his chair. "Don't mistake me. I'm not doing this out of some misplaced sense of altruism. I don't want anyone looking too closely at your anatomy."

"Gross."

Vlad ignored the comment. "If you are found out, the best defense of my identity, that no one knows half ghosts are possible, vanishes. This is merely enlightened self-interest. Does that make you feel better?"

Oddly enough, it did.

"Good. Now," he made a little shooing motion with his hands, "go home. I will make arrangements with your parents."

Danny arrived on Vlad's doorstep, his father in tow, making a valiant but ultimately futile attempt to avoid playing with his now very loose front teeth.

"V-man!" exclaimed Jack, exploding through the door without bothering to knock. "It's been forever!"

"It's been two days, Jack," said Vlad, repressively. He had, wisely, been waiting at the top of the wide stairs that led to the mansion's second floor.

"But it feels like so much longer!"

"I wish," muttered Vlad.

Jack, undeterred ran up the stairs and hugged Vlad.

"Yes, yes," said Vlad, strained, "very good. Now, Jack, Daniel and I have a very busy day ahead of us. I'm afraid we must be off at once."

"Aw, already?"

"My pilot doesn't like waiting."

Danny leveled a baleful glare at Vlad. The man hadn't mentioned anything about leaving Amity Park.

Jack skipped out the door, and the GAV sped off.

"Oh, do stop looking at me like that," said Vlad. "We aren't leaving your precious town, although I'm sure it would survive just fine without you."

"Then why-?"

"Well, we certainly couldn't have your parents dropping in at all hours to check up on you, could we?" Vlad shuddered dramatically. "In any case, I have your room made up. Follow me."

Danny picked up his luggage, no longer pretending he found it heavy now that his father wasn't around to see, and trudged up the stairs after Vlad.

The room was nice. Too nice. A little too space-themed for his peace of mind as well, with the stars on the walls, spangled bed sheets, and planet-shaped lamps on the bedside tables. The game console in the corner had the effect of making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Please tell me you set up this room in the last two days."

"Don't be ridiculous. I've had this room decorated like this since I moved in. I had hoped you would come to your senses."

"My senses. Right," said Danny, trying to decide if it was too late to hide at Sam's for a week. Sadly, it probably was.

"Well, get your things put away, and meet me downstairs for brunch in half an hour. I doubt you've eaten much since we last spoke." Vlad strode out of the room, not looking back.

Danny stared after him, unsure if he should feel touched or creeped out. Both, maybe.

Finally, he sighed and heaved the suitcase up onto the bed. He had asked for this, he reminded himself. Not the bedroom. But Vlad's help.

If there had been any other friendly ghosts within flying distance...

Okay, he'd still have needed the cover, and Jazz, Sam, and Tucker could only do so much.

Danny finished unpacking in a few minutes. He hadn't brought a whole lot of stuff with him. Just enough clothing to last a week without washing, the thermos, some homework, the Spector Deflector, the collapsible version of the Boo-Staff, some Fenton Sleeping Bag Capsules, in case he had to run and spend the remainder of spring break roughing it in the woods.

Okay, he didn't think he'd have to do that, otherwise he wouldn't be trusting Vlad even this far, but it was better to be safe.

He walked downstairs, slowly, then started to look for the kitchen, vaguely worried about being ambushed. He wasn't. Point for Vlad.

Another point for Vlad - He was actually cooking.

"I doubt you want to eat anything too tough at the moment," said Vlad, "although once your new teeth grow in, you'll be gnawing on things before you know it. So, I'm making eggs. You aren't allergic to anything?"

"Not other than blood blossoms, no."

Vlad sighed and tipped the eggs he was frying onto a plate. "Shall we let bygones be bygones, little badger? At least for the duration of our little truce? For the sake of your problem, if nothing else."

Danny's lips twitched, sending a wave of pain across his face. "Yeah, okay," he said. He reached out for the eggs.

Vlad passed him the plate. "I'd like to do some scans of your teeth, when you're done."

"Why?" asked Danny.

"So suspicious," said Vlad. "Remember, you asked for my help."

"Last time you wanted to do scans of me, you were trying to clone me."

"This is different," said Vlad. "Although, I do wonder if Danielle will be losing her teeth, soon. Something for you to watch out for, hm?"

"What do you want to do the scans for, anyway?" asked Danny, picking up a fork.

"Oh, the usual. Making sure your teeth are growing in properly, checking if you'll be venomous, that kind of thing."

Danny dropped the fork. "That's an option?"

Vlad smirked. "Oh, it isn't very likely, but... You do have very odd luck, Daniel."

And didn't Danny know it.

"I'll pass on the scans."

"Really?"

"Cloning," Danny pointed out.

Vlad sighed. "I suppose you have something of a point. Let's make a deal. If I haven't done anything sinister by the middle of the week, you get those scans. It will, after all, be much harder for me to help you without them."

Danny frowned. "I didn't know that you were going to 'help' me beyond, you know. Hiding me."

"Please, Daniel. I'm trying to convince you to join me. I'm hardly going to deny you medical care while you're here. Besides, if you go back to your parents looking like a trainwreck, I'm the one who will get in trouble. Assuming they notice, of course."

Well... when he put it like that... "You're awful," said Danny.

"And yet, here we are. So, what is your decision?"

Danny sighed. "I'll think about it."

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt #ectoberhaunt22 #tw: losing teeth #tw: blood #ectoberhaunt chaos #ectoberhaunt day 18: teeth

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Nie Huaisang hasn’t found anyone to do the body sacrifice ritual for him, and so in desperation he tries it himself. However, the ritual was not designed with a Nie cultivator in mind—something Nie Huaisang does not realize until he’s doubled over on the floor, far too close to a qi deviation, because his (admittedly tiny) saber spirit has been replaced with Wei Wuxian.

ao3

Well, that was the dumbest thing ever.

The thought so closely matched Wei Wuxian’s that he didn’t even notice that it wasn’t his own.

How could you be so stupid? Wei Wuxian tried to shout at Nie Huaisang, who was curled up gasping on the floor. The floor, which was stained with Nie Huaisang's own blood, with cuts he had made himself on himself, with the ancient body sacrifice summoning that – that –

Don’t you realize that you’d be gone? You absolute idiot! Wei Wuxian howled, even though he wasn’t actually a person right now. He didn’t know what he was, a ghost or spirit, maybe, but he was there and he was angry and Nie Huaisang’s arms were covered in blood from where he’d cut himself up in order to destroy his own soul – Nie Huaisang, the mincing sensitive little master who would complain for three weeks about having stubbed his toe! – and his robes that he had always taken such great care to keep clean and neat were a mess and he was bleeding from the nose and eyes and ears because something had gone wrong. Something had gone wrong, and Wei Wuxian hated to be grateful for it because he didn’t want to be brought back by Nie Huaisang’s death.

Not anyone’s death, really, but definitely not Nie Huaisang, who’d never hurt him or treated him badly. Even when the whole world had hated and reviled Wei Wuxian, isolating him in Yiling on the Burial Mounds, Nie Huaisang hadn’t – he’d waved jauntily to him during Phoenix Mountain, and Wei Wuxian had never doubted that if he’d somehow found his way to Qinghe, Nie Huaisang would have treated him just the same as always.

You – you –! You good-for-nothing!

“Don’t be rude,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, slowly uncurling. “Didn’t bring you back to be rude to me.”

You know what you’ve done, then? You could have died!

“Was I supposed to let someone else do it?” Nie Huaisang rubbed at his face with his sleeve, then frowned at the blood on it. “I thought about it, but I really just – couldn’t.”

So you decided to kill yourself?

“It’s like you said, Wei-xiong. I’m a good-for-nothing. I couldn’t – I can’t – I can’t fix this. So why not bring back someone who can?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t have words to express how much that was not all right with him.

Go fix yourself, he ordered. I don't care what 'this' is; I’m not talking to you until you get cleaned up.

“After all that work I did? Wei-xiong…”

Nope! You’re not dying, so you can get cleaned up before we talk, and that’s that. I still can’t believe you nearly – I don’t want it. I’ve never wanted anyone to get hurt for me.

“Wei-xiong, you’re being silly. Who said I did it for you?”

Wei Wuxian would have stared if he had eyes.

“I did it for me,” Nie Huaisang said, and finally he got up properly and staggered over to a basin to start washing himself clean. “Obviously! I'm incredibly self-absorbed. It’s about what I need from you…hey, how did you come back? I thought the ritual only worked if I died.”

It should have, Wei Wuxian agreed, unwillingly intrigued by it. I don’t know, actually. It’s strange: it should have either worked, in which case you’d be dead and I’d be possessing your body, or else not worked at all, in which case I shouldn’t be here.

“I always mess things up.”

No, really, I don’t think you messed this up? The array is perfect. There’s no reason for it not to have worked.

“These cuts won’t heal,” Nie Huaisang observed, looking at his arms. “Did I accidentally curse myself to fulfill my obligations? Ugh, why.”

As the person you were going to impose said obligations on, I’m now going to laugh at you. Hahahahaha –

“Shut up, Wei-xiong. Where are you, anyway? I don’t see any ghostly figures that might be you, and anyway, we’re in the Unclean Realm; there are ghost-repelling arrays in every stone.”

I don’t know, Wei Wuxian said, and then something else said, Ghost-repelling arrays only repel ghosts.

At first Wei Wuxian thought that it was Nie Huaisang who had said that, and he was about to ask what he meant by that, only Nie Huaisang got there first and said, “What do you mean, Wei-xiong? Are you not a ghost?”

I didn’t say that, Wei Wuxian said. That – wasn’t me.

“Who was it?”

Me.

“…Wei-xiong…?”

No, that wasn’t me. I mean, it wasn’t me that said ‘me’ just now!

Of course not, the voice said, and it was Wei Wuxian’s voice – or not-voice, anyway, whatever it was that he was using to communicate – but not Wei Wuxian speaking. It was me, of course. Master forgot to account for me in his array.

What? Wei Wuxian asked, utterly confused, but apparently that made more sense to Nie Huaisang because his knees went weak and he fell down on his ass.

“Aituan?” he gasped. “I – what – is that you?”

Yes.

Can I interrupt? Wei Wuxian asked. Who – or what – is Aituan?

“My saber!”

Your – what?!

Nie Huaisang attempted to explain. It ended up being a fairly long explanation, involving his sect’s cultivation style, saber spirits, and his own personal saber spirit, which was named Aituan, and which Nie Huaisang swore up and down did not speak prior to this.

Of course not, the voice now known as Aituan said irritably. Why would I speak? I’m a saber. We’re sensible, not like you humans – but now you’ve shoved a human spirit in with me, so what am I supposed to do? Not use his abilities as my own?

I feel like I should feel violated, Wei Wuxian said.

“When in fact you think it’s really neat?”

…yeah, basically.

Aituan huffed. Can we get back to the part where we plan a murder? he (it?) whined.

Sorry, Aituan, Wei Wuxian said. No murder.

“Uh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Actually, about that…”

I think we should kill him.

“I can’t do that!”

Dunno, I think Aituan has a point, Wei Wuxian said. We should probably just kill him.

“You’re supposed to be helping me, Wei-xiong!”

I’m helping! I’m a saber now, I can totally help you stab him.

“Not helpful!”

I like this human, Aituan declared. Good human. Proper blade on his hilt.

You mean head on my shoulders?

Whatever.

Nie Huaisang threw his hands up in annoyance. “Would either of you like to remember the part where I can’t actually fight? San-ge would beat me black and blue if I so much as picked up a pocket-knife in his presence!”

Get someone else to help, Wei Wuxian suggested pitilessly.

“I tried! You!”

Someone else.

“Like who?”

Hmm. Lan Zhan? He’s great.

“I don’t know. He’s er-ge’s brother, isn’t he? He might not believe me…” Nie hUaisang grimaced. “He hasn’t been much inclined to believe me before.”

Why doesn’t the loudmouth do the talking? Aituan suggested.

Oh, that’s a good idea! Lan Zhan was always inclined to listen to me before.

“I thought you said he hated you?”

He still listened!

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh.

Your other alternative is stabbing your enemy directly, Aituan said. If you’d like to give it a try…

“…I’ll talk to Lan Zhan.”

“I can’t believe you’re perving after my saber,” Nie Huaisang complained.

I can’t believe Lan Zhan likes me! I mean, likes me!

I can’t believe I’m still stuck here with you idiots. Can I go share bodies with Baxia instead?

Lan Wangji just looked awkward.

Some people might mistake it for looking noble and genteel, but by now they all knew: it was just him being horribly awkward.

“I have no such intentions,” he said stiffly. “Only – if it was possible for Wei Ying to exit the saber…”

Nie Huaisang grimaced, humor falling away. “I…don’t really know about that.”

Wait, wait, wait. If I can’t – if I’m stuck as a saber – I can’t – but I really want to kiss Lan Zhan! This isn’t fair! I don’t want to have to wait until I reincarnate.

You won’t reincarnate, Aituan said. You’re a saber. Unless we’re melted down or get ground down by time…

No!

“Surely there has to be some way. Aituan, stop being a part of the problem and start being a part of the solution.”

Fine. Let him possess you.

“…what.”

He just needs a human body, right? Let him possess you. Problem solved.

I can do that?

Technically, I can do that, and you can do it because I can do it. But we’d need Master’s permission.

“There are many, many, many books about why you don’t grant your saber permission to possess you. Anyway, that’s my body!”

Yeah, I guess it would be weird for you to kiss Lan Zhan, would it?

“I mean, not really? He’s very pretty. I could swing it.”

You could?

“…you could swing what,” Lan Wangji said.

“Having Wei-xiong possess me,” Nie Huaisang explained. “So that he and you can get the whole missed opportunity thing out of your system.”

Lan Wangji’s face did a few strange things.

"Assuming that it wouldn't be an issue for you, that is, it being me on the other side..."

"No," Lan Wangji said, and cleared his throat. "That would be - fine."

Ooooooh. Does Lan Zhan like you, too?

"What? No. Don't be ridiculous, Lan Zhan doesn't like me like that."

He'd be willing to kiss you.

"Physical attraction isn't the same thing," Nie Huaisang argued. "Lan Zhan, you're with me on this, right? You wouldn't be interested in -"

Lan Wangji cut him off.

A few moments later, he pulled back and said, thoughtfully, "As suspected. It is fine."

Nie Huaisang opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"...well then," he said blankly, then frowned. “Aituan, can I revoke permission for possession?”

No idea. You'd just have to trust that we'd give it back; it's a risk you'd have to take.

“…well, as illustrated, it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had. Let’s try it, and then once everyone’s a little more focused we can go do what we need to do. Sound good?”

“I really didn’t expect you to start a relationship Nie Huaisang,” Lan Xichen said to Lan Wangji, not long before the end. He sounded deeply puzzled. “I didn’t think you liked him like that.”

“Not by himself,” Lan Wangji said with a shrug. “But he’s good in company.”

“…you’re with other people too? Both of you?”

“Mm.”

Lan Xichen, knowing his younger brother’s reticent temper, especially of late, declined to ask who the other parties were. “Doesn’t that make things crowded?” he asked instead.

“…surprisingly no,” Lan Wangji said. “Not as much as you’d think.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #wangxiansang #my fic #my fics #crowded

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 3 years

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Deity!AU: Halloween Beginnings

AUTHOR NOTE: Anon asks are now active! For some reason I wasn't able to activate it from mobile and didn't realize it until now, so if you had a question but were too shy to do so, it should be working now!

Hello everyone~!

Well, Halloween has since come and gone, which means that it’s Jack’s turn to bring a winter wonderland to the world so it can rest. But as I’ve said in the last post, Lilia had some rather interesting things to tell me about Halloween when I was explaining the holiday to Grim. Turns out it has a much deeper history than I realized…although it ended up being a lot of information to listen to, so it took me quite a while to condense it into this short version.

“His stories wouldn’t end! I couldn’t even fall asleep without him pranking me awake!”

Oh come on, Grim, I know you enjoyed some of those stories too.

“Hnn…yeah, I guess. I still say it was more fun getting all that candy. Look at this haul I got from just one human town! Nyahaha~! A worthy tribute for their future god!”

[Fufufu~! Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you, little one?]

“Fygnaa!? You again! Stop doing that!!”

Hi, Lilia! Glad you could make it.

[Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!]

Awesome, I…wait a minute. You didn’t rearrange my cabinets again, did you?

[No, not this time, I’m afraid. Do you wish me to?]

Knowing you, you’ll probably end up doing it anyway. Just be careful where you stick the sharp utensils in this time, please. My ears are still ringing from the last time…

[Ah yes, that was quite endearing seeing you try to bandage Sebek’s hand even when it was unnecessary.]

“Are you kidding? His yell still caused a lightning strike and thunder loud enough to make us deaf!”

…let’s change the subject, we’re getting way off topic here.

[Ah yes, though I’m sure the creator would’ve loved to continue this little conversation.]

Huh? But…I am the creator.

[Oh right, you are too.]

…too?

[Oh look, here’s your little transcription! Let’s read it, shall we?]

Lilia, wait a--! Ugh, fine. I’ll go get us some snacks and drinks then.

“Bring me tuna!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Many years ago—before the Great Darkness drove the gods into hiding—humans had grown wary and fearful of the world around them as the harvesting season ended, winter lurking just around the corner. With the uncertainty of whether or not they would survive the harsh winter months, the mortals began to seek guidance and wisdom from the gods in the hopes of earning their mercy. My heart always ached for the plight of those poor little children shivering under their blankets during the colder times. Sometimes I would sneak in and leave them warmer clothes and sheets, though when I would prepare a feast for them and their family none of them would touch the food. So disappointing…

It was around this time that many believed that the barrier between the land of the living and the dead became blurred, the ghosts of the deceased returning to the earth to seek hospitality from family. Or perhaps they wished to feast on the flesh of the living? Just kidding~!..or am I? Fufufu~! While many cowered away in their homes from these ghostly entities, some brave souls believed they could commune with the spirits to attain premonitions of the future…or so they were told. In actuality, the mortals were speaking to Ortho, the God of Souls, who used his processor to calculate probabilities with such speed and accuracy that they could only assume that he could see the future. Ah yes, I remember this. If I recall correctly, I may have let it slip that the “Souls” could predict possible outcomes. Apparently they took it to heart, and for the next few centuries little Ortho would answer their call. Such an entertaining sight to see their faces when they try to make sense of his technical speak!

Compared to today’s tradition of dressing up in costumes and going door to door for treats, masks and animal skins would be worn by those venturing outside the safety of their homes. The reason for this was so they wouldn’t be recognized and could blend in as one of these mischievous spirits. It was quite enjoyable having some of the mortals join me in my rounds—I simply didn’t have the heart to tell them that I could see right through their little disguises. How could I? To encourage the spirits and demons to not enter their homes, bowls of food and drink would be left outside to appease them. Those who did not would soon find themselves the target of mischief and trickery, though whether this was the work of spirits, mortals, or the God of Mischief himself is unclear. I never said I didn’t have some part in that. In fact, it was the most fun the little ones and I have had! Oh you should have seen them all dressed up in their little costumes, helping me prank the adults—they even coined the most adorable phrase “Trick-or-Treat” from me, it was so adorable~!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Eh? Hey, wait a minute! Did you just write in this thing?”

[Why, yes I did. It seemed a little short, and I remembered she’d mentioned that Cater would be providing commentary on her posts. I wanted to try it out for myself, and it was rather enjoyable! Certainly made it entertaining while we wait for the show.]

“Wait, what show?”

LILIA!!!! Why is there a staircase inside the fridge?!

[Ah, she found my little surprise sooner than I expected. Apologies, dear readers, I must take my leave. Before I do though, here is a small list of things little Faun couldn’t add in well. Until next time~!]

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

Fun Facts:

When it comes to the story “Sleepy Hollow”, it’s quite surprising to learn that this was actually inspired by Idia, who Lilia had managed to convince to attend one such Halloween event and dress in costume. While he had dressed as a knight from a film well known amongst the deities as “Pumpkin Hollow”, it’s no surprise that mortals misinterpreted the costume as a spirit and create a whole new legend to the story—much to the chagrin of the God of Death. He was happy to show the original film in it’s “original masterpiece” form, though it’s also suspected that his Pumpkin Knight contributed to the connection of pumpkins being associated with him.

Soul Cakes were created in the shape of simplified flames, akin to the very same blue heart-flame Ortho has on his chest. Nowadays they’ve changed in design and ingredients, the same flame shape gaining new hues and colors as mortals got more creative with the food dyes. One thing that hasn’t changed is the center being filled with jam of various flavors. Tart jams tend to be the usual, but sweet can be used as well.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland deity au #Lilia Vanrouge #Idia Shroud #Ortho Shroud #twst Grim #this took a little longer than I'd hoped since life got a little busy #but I had a lot of fun in the end so I can't complain!

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dreamwraith · 3 years

Text

Teleport

Summary: Danny finally learned how to teleport, but where is the 'off' switch? Pairings: Hints of Sam crushing on Danny Warnings: Danny accidentally teleports into the girl’s locker room, but only for a few seconds; he’s as startled as they are. Danny and Tucker have a no-homo thing going on, they should probably just hug it out already.

On Ao3

"Hey! Sam! Sam, wait up!"

Sam glanced over her shoulder. When she saw Tucker chasing after her with an anxious look on his face, she stopped walking down the sidewalk. Tucker was able to reach her in no time, but he had to bend over and gulp in large breaths afterward.

"Something wrong, Tucker?" she asked after giving him a few seconds to catch his breath. "I thought I was meeting you and Danny at school today?"

"Well, yeah," Tucker panted, "that was the plan, but…Have you seen Danny?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No. Why? Did something happen? Is he in trouble?"

Tucker waved his hand, chuckling between gasps. "No…well, yes…well, kind of…"

"Tucker…"

"No, he isn't in any real danger. Yes, his secret may be in jeopardy."

Sam widened her eyes. "His secret might be in what? What happened exactly?"

Tucker stood up straight, using his beret to wipe his sweaty forehead. "Well, this morning, while Danny and I were walking to school, he had a breakthrough on teleporting. He practiced it a couple times by teleporting up and down the sidewalk when no one was around, getting farther and farther away. He was getting really good at it!"

"O-kay," Sam said slowly, "so somebody saw him doing this?"

"Um. No."

"What went wrong then?"

"Well, we were almost to school, so he changed back to Fenton. But a few seconds after he did, he disappeared and—"

POP!

"Tucker!" Danny jumped on Tucker. His best friend screamed and would have shot three feet in the air if Danny's Hug of Death was any less secure. "Finally! I've been trying to get back to you for who knows how long now! Oh, hey, Sam! Wait, where'd you come from?" He loosened his hold on the trembling Tucker and looked around. "This isn't where I left you, Tuck…"

"He came to find me after you apparently disappeared," Sam explained for their shell-shocked friend. "Danny, what's going on? Are—"

"I can't stop teleporting, Sam!" Danny all but shouted, unwrapping one arm from around Tucker so he could wave it around for emphasis. "One minute I'm walking peacefully down the sidewalk, the next I'm in my room! So far I've teleported to school three times, to the Ghost Zone twice, my room five times, yours once, Tucker's three, Vlad's house one time too many, and once I somehow ended up, like, fifty feet in the air! I can't control it!" He released Tucker, and latched onto Sam's shoulders, earning a surprised gasp from the Goth. "Make it stop, Sam! I can't take it anymore!"

"Danny, calm down!" She brushed Danny's hands off her shoulders, but he quickly grabbed her wrists. She scowled. "Danny, let go of me before I show a very incriminating photo of you and Tucker to Jazz."

Danny's hands flew away from Sam like she was an evil ghost in disguise. "I thought you burned that!" He hesitated before giving Tucker a one-armed hug again.

Sam smirked. "Why would I get rid of perfectly good blackmail material? Is there a reason you keep grabbing onto us, Danny?"

"Yeah, dude," Tucker said, finally regaining his wits enough to eye his strange friend. "It's getting awkward."

"I am being teleported all over the place without my consent," Danny reminded them, "can't I get a little sympathy from you guys?" They gave him bland, completely unsympathetic looks. "Alright, fine. By holding onto you stationary people, I'm hoping you will anchor me and stop me from teleporting."

"Wouldn't we just teleport with you though?" Sam asked.

Tucker's eyes grew large and he struggled against Danny's hold, but even in human form Danny was stronger than him.

"No," Danny grunted, "because it takes a lot of control to be able to teleport more than one person, and clearly I don't posses any control over this, whatsoever."

Tucker relaxed but his nose wrinkled. "It still feels awkward, Danny. Go hug, Sam."

"I'm not hugging you," Danny protested. "This is a manly arm grip!"

"It doesn't feel very manly."

"Doesn't look like it either," Sam said, smirking.

Danny huffed. "Fine." He dragged Tucker closer to Sam and then threw his other arm around her neck before she could protest. Sam gasped and struggled, upset—if her red face was anything to go by—but Danny started walking, and his friends were forced to follow. "Alright! Now this is teamwork!"

"More like kidnapping!" Sam shouted.

Tucker teased, "You know you like it, Sam."

"Oh, yeah, I just love to be held against my will."

"It's only until this stops," Danny tried to reason.

"Oh? And when will that be?"

"Uh…I don't know…"

She sighed, resigned. "This all started after you changed back into Danny Fenton, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, maybe you'll have more control of it if you're in your ghost form. Seems to me your ghost half would have more control over your powers than your human half would."

Danny hung his head, wishing he could face-palm without losing his anchors. "I should have thought of that…"

"That's what I'm here for. Now hurry up and change while the streets are empty."

Danny nodded, and in a flash of light, he became Amity Park's number one ghostly hero.

After a few seconds, Sam cleared her throat. "You'll have to let go of us to test this, Danny…"

Danny flinched. "B-but what if it doesn't work and I start teleporting like crazy again?"

"Then we'll just have to think of something else!" Sam hissed, "Now let go of us before somebody sees Danny Phantom hanging out with Danny Fenton's friends!"

Danny grimaced. He slowly, very slowly, released his best friends. They walked a few steps farther ahead before stopping and facing Danny again. He had his eyes pinched shut and his hands fisted at his sides.

"Did I teleport?" he asked, keeping his eyes sealed.

"No." Tucker chuckled. "But you look constipated. Loosen up, dude."

Danny cracked an eye open, but upon seeing the same setting as before, he grinned, and jumped in place. "Alright! Way to go, Sam!" He went to high five her, but seconds away from making contact, Danny became consumed by green mist. The mist disappeared along with Danny, followed by a popping sound.

Sam lowered her hand slowly, and exchanged glances with Tucker. "Uh, I guess it didn't work…"

Tucker sighed. "We might as well get to school, Sam. He's not going to show up here any time soon…"

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

POP!

"Paradise Lost!"

Danny's momentum carried him through the motion of the high-five, but because Sam's hand wasn't there to meet his, his swat carried into a somersault in midair. "Whoa!" He righted himself and jerked his head from side to side. The faces staring up at him were familiar, but the location wasn't since only teachers and their favorites were allowed inside the teacher's lounge.

Danny laughed nervously. "Um, uh, whoops?"

Mr. Lancer was the first to regain his composure. He stood up and fixed his tie in a nervous habit. "Mr. …Phantom, what is the meaning of this?" Sweat noticeably broke out over his forehead.

Danny flushed. "Um, I'm having a few technical issues with my powers…" He cleared his throat and floated with his back straight, adopting his 'hero' voice. "Sorry for the inconvenience, citizens. I'll just be going…"

But after a few seconds, Danny still floated in place above their table, staring fixedly into space. The teachers looked at each other in confusion. The Art teacher pulled out a sketch pad and started sketching the focused Ghost Boy in profile.

"…Any second now…"

If they had crickets in the staff lounge, they'd be chirping.

"…Any second…"

Mr. Felucca stepped forward, his index finger poised in question. "What power are you having difficulties with, Mr. Ghost Boy? As a scientist, perhaps I can be of assistance."

Danny grimaced. "Uh, actually—"

Ms. Tetslaff slammed a fist on the table, and the sudden violence made Danny start in surprise. "If it's power he's having trouble with, it's me he should be coming to for help! I'll whip him into shape!"

He winced, and drifted away from her. "Uh, it's not really a physical power—"

"I have studied many classical stories that teach great, historical lessons," Mr. Lancer said. "Perhaps one of those will be of some use to you, Mr. Phantom?"

"Thanks, but I don't—"

The Mythology teacher scoffed. "Your literature is of no use to a being of exponential power. My myths have way more value to him than your 'fiction'."

"I don't need—"

The Psychology teacher snapped her fingers. "It may be psychological! Please feel free to tell me all about your problems. I'm here to help!"

"I don't have a psychological issue! Why does everyone always think that?"

Ms. Loretta gazed at Danny's skinny body with a critical eye. "Perhaps it has something to do with malnourishment. Do ghosts have to eat? I can make you something, boy."

"…Uh…no…"

The Government teacher trembled in his seat, staring up at Danny in fear. "W-we should call somebody about this! Call the Fentons! Call the Guys in White! They'll know what to do!"

The Art teacher reached out and pinched a fold of Danny's jumpsuit. "Is this latex?"

"Hey!" Danny knocked his hand away and floated a few paces away from him. "No touching!"

"We should give him a physical!"

"He needs to learn a moral lesson!"

"What he needs is more meat on his bones!"

"Oh, how am I going to capture that glow…"

"Something must be wrong with the inner workings of his mind!"

"The FENTONS!"

"Perhaps it is his molecular structure that is causing the problem!"

"QUIET!" Danny shouted. The teachers instantly quieted. "There is nothing wrong with my body, my mind, or my morals, alright? I just developed a new power and I'm having some difficulty controlling it. That's all!"

The teachers backed away from the panting ghost boy.

Mr. Felucca was the first to gather his courage. He asked, "What kind of power?"

Danny relaxed. "Teleport—"

POP!

The teachers gasped, and stared at the spot where the Ghost Boy had once been.

"NOOO!" the Art teacher cried, and threw down his half-complete sketch. "I was so close!"

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

POP!

"—ation."

"Breach in Sector 8! We have a breach in Sector 8!"

Before Danny had a chance to gather his bearings, several ghost nets crashed into him and bound him to the floor. Where the net touched him, little bolts of electricity shot into his system like static jumping to a doorknob. Danny growled and struggled against the painful bindings, but the whirring of a ghost gun made him freeze. He looked up into the tinted sunglasses of a GiW operative.

"D-Don't move, Phantom!"

Danny's eyes half-lidded in boredom. "Oh great. The Mr. Clean Groupies…"

"Quiet, ghost," another agent ordered. "We have you surrounded."

Danny looked past the two standing over him. "Let me guess, the reinforcements are invisible?"

Danny wasn't able to see his eyes, but the second agent's brows furrowed, and his mouth turned down.. "I don't like your tone, boy."

Danny used his infamous cocky smirk. "Like I care? With only two agents, why should I worry? I could take you guys out easy."

The first agent, the one who had stuttered, gulped. Without warning, he shot at Danny.

Danny gasped, and dove to the side. He needn't have bothered, though. The shot was way off target. It crashed into the wall five feet behind Danny.

"Agent N!"

Danny eyed the scared agent warily. Like cornered wolves, frightened hunters packing heat were dangerous. "New agent?" he asked the other guy.

He grunted. "As green as they come. Listen, kid," he faced Agent N, "there is a rhythm to these things. We exchange witty banter, and then we start shootin' them."

Agent N nodded his head rapidly. "Y-yes, sir. Understood, sir! Should I tranquilize him, sir?"

"Wow, he is green."

The senior agent scowled. "Tranquilizers don't work on ghosts, recruit. Get your facts straight!"

Agent N stuttered apologies. Danny rolled his eyes and wished he would teleport out of there already.

"W-what do we do then, s-sir?"

The other agent grinned sadistically. "We shock him until he loses consciousness."

Danny flinched, but tried to hide it. "Gee, so humane. You must be very proud of your species."

"I am." The senior agent pulled a button switch out of his pocket, and poised his thumb above the large red button. Danny breathed in a deep breath, readying a Ghostly Wail. Passing out and transforming in front of them wasn't an option. "Or, I don't care about yours. Prepare yourself, ghost scum."

POP!

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

POP!

The first thing Danny noticed was the absence of annoying static shocks. The second thing he noticed was the absence of everything else. Including air. He was really glad he took a deep breath before, though the breath was almost stolen from him when he looked down at the Earth. Like, the Earth, the blue planet Earth.

I'm in space! he thought, grinning goofily. He gazed around himself in wonder. He had been to space before, but he'd been too busy fighting to really admire the scenery.

Stars in every direction, as far as the eye could see, he was on the sunny side of the Earth, but he could see the moon poking out from behind the rocky planet. A comet was off in the distance, its ice and dust particles trailing behind it as the solar wind tore at the ice rock. He closed his eyes, and lights danced behind his eyelids as the solar wind hit him.

Danny sagged, and his expression became dreamy. It's so beautiful…this just makes me want to be an astronaut even more! I wish I could stay—Air! He gripped his throat. Air! I need air!

POP!

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

POP!

"Chronicles of Narnia!"

Danny gasped in air, like he'd never tasted anything so sweet. Space was awesome, but it'd be a lot better with oxygen.

"Danny Phantom!"

Danny spun around, and found his first period class staring up at him the same way he had stared at Outer Space. A nervous smile worked its way onto his lips. "I'm just dropping by. I'll be gone in a second, so please, don't let me interrupt."

The class started whispering to each other in excitement, looking like they were seconds away from mobbing him. In the back row, he saw Sam scowl. She hated his 'hero' voice. Tucker waved discreetly to him, and Danny subtly nodded back. He was glad Valerie didn't have his first hour…

"Mr. Phantom!"

Danny looked over his shoulder at Mr. Lancer. "Uh, hello again…"

Lancer frowned. "I take it you haven't fixed your 'problem'?"

"…No."

"Then perhaps you would like to sit in for my lesson," he said, smirking like he had just won a contest. "Perhaps you will learn something."

The students screamed. No longer able to contain themselves, they jumped out of their seats and rushed for Danny. He floated out of their reach, feeling nervous and slightly nauseous. Tucker and Sam joined them in order to keep up appearances, and Danny was annoyed to see Tucker filming it all on his PDA. His classmates gathered below him, shouting for autographs.

Danny backed away, breathing fast. "Uh, I don't know if that's such a good idea! Besides, I probably won't be here for much longer, or at least I really hope not, so I—"

POP!

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

POP!

"…and that is why, I believe we can use the town's little ghost problem to our…" Vlad trailed off when it became apparent he didn't have his audience's full attention. "…advantage…"

Despite the meeting being comprised of mostly professional reporters and self-important civilians, they were whispering rudely amongst each other, laughing and pointing at something behind Vlad. He looked behind him, but all he saw was the red curtain. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"…As I was saying," Vlad said, turning back to the microphone on the podium, "with an interest in ghosts growing worldwide, more and more people will be traveling to Amity Park in search of the fabled beings—one in particular, I might add. I say we encourage this by building tourist attractions that will bring in large crowds of people."

"What?" a familiar voice exclaimed. Vlad smirked, his suspicion confirmed. Danny Phantom flew in front of him, his arms thrown out. "You can't bring more people here! I knew you were a fruitloop, Vlad, but this is going a bit far!"

"Ah," Vlad said suavely, "Amity Park's famous Ghost Boy. So nice of you to join us."

"Cut the crap, Vlad…er, Mr. Mayor…" Danny blushed and glanced over his shoulder at the flashing cameras and excited audience.

Vlad chuckled. "If it puts you more at ease, you're welcome to use my first name. It's the least I can do for our star attraction."

Danny refocused his righteous gaze on Vlad, but he floated to the side of him so his back was no longer to the cameras. "You can't bring tourists here, Masters."

"Oh? And why not? It'd be very profitable for this town."

"You mean it'd be very profitable for you," Danny corrected. "And you can't bring them here because, in case you haven't noticed, this town isn't very safe. The people living here know to run when a ghost attacks, but tourists will get closer because that's what they came to see. People could get seriously hurt…"

"Do you doubt your ability to protect them, little hero?" Vlad questioned, smirking mockingly. "We can use the funds the tourists bring in to hire more competent ghost hunters, so I assure you there is no need for such fear."

Danny scowled at the 'competent' part. "You're making a mistake, Masters. You can hire a hundred ghost hunters, but they won't be enough to—"

POP!

Vlad raised an eyebrow. Interesting… He hadn't expected the boy to develop his teleportation powers so soon, but his apparent lack of control more than made up for his accelerated growth. He'd make the boy suffer a while longer before he approached him.

He turned back to his murmuring audience. "Any questions?"

The crowd shot to their feet.

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

Ms. Tetslaff blew her whistle. Her students looked at her with hope in their eyes and sweat covering every inch of their exhausted bodies. "That's enough for today," she said. "Shower up, you lazy maggots!" The students silently cheered and limped toward the locker rooms.

Tucker almost fell over in relief. He'd take helping Danny fight ghosts over gym any day. He was tempted to curl into a ball and fake dehydration, just so he could sit and relax for a few seconds. Sadly, it was not to be. Sam bounced to his side, and Tucker for the second time that day cursed the girl's athleticism.

She grabbed his arm, and forced him to stumble toward the locker rooms. He muttered complaints, but being the good friend she was, she ignored them.

"Any sign of Danny since this morning?" she asked him quietly.

"Once," Tucker replied. Even his voice sounded tired. "He made a brief appearance in third period chemistry class, and I mean brief. He was there for all but five seconds, but it was still enough to disrupt the whole class and get us out of homework." He grinned. "It was awesome! What about you?"

Sam shrugged. "He popped into second period Art Class. Everybody started sketching him, including Mr. Coal." She smirked. "Danny looked so embarrassed."

Tucker chuckled. "I bet. How long did he stay?"

"Five or ten minutes. There were a lot of disappointed groans after he disappeared, but Mr. Coal managed to finish. It looks really cool too…I also heard he made an appearance for History Class, and Government." She rolled her eyes. "The Government teacher tried to call the Guys in White, but he got taken captive by his class."

Tucker laughed. "Oh man! I wish I had seen that!"

"We can ask Danny all about it once we see him again," Sam pointed out. "If he stays long enough…"

Tucker chuckled.

They split into their gender specific locker rooms, waving goodbye. Still chuckling, Tucker grabbed his shower supplies and strolled into the shower area. Because of a recent ghost attack, tarps littered the area, for once creating some much needed privacy. Too bad Danny was missing it. Mr. Modesty would most definitely appreciate the seclusion.

Tucker stripped down, and was just about to turn on the water when…

POP!

"Tucker!"

Tucker jumped.

Danny nearly hugged him like he had that morning, but he stopped at the last second. He pulled slowly away, making a face. "Uh, you're my best friend and everything, Tuck," he said, "and I love you like a brother, but I am so not touching you when you're naked…"

Tucker hurriedly wrapped his lower half in his towel. "Well no asked you to!" He looked at his best friend, noticing the tousled white hair, the tear in his jumpsuit, and the way his eyes twitched and darted around the room. "Having a rough day, Danny?"

"Like you wouldn't believe!" Danny pulled on his own hair—explaining why it was so messy—and stared at Tucker with unnaturally large eyes. "I never know where I'm going, or when I'm going there! It's all completely random! And I've seen things, Tuck! I've seen things…"

Tucker held his fists against his naked chest, mocking a scared expression. "Were they dead people?" he whispered.

Danny blinked, scowled, and crossed his hands over his chest, sulking. "Oh yeah, ha ha. Laugh at the poor kid who just saw Ember and Skulker making out."

Tucker's jaw dropped and his face turned slightly green.

Danny smirked. "Yeah! Not so funny now, is it!"

POP!

Tucker stared at the empty space before him for a moment, wondering where his traveling friend would end up next.

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

POP!

It happened very fast.

Danny saw what every straight guy dreams about, committed it unintentionally to memory, and was then deafened by shrieks. He screamed too and quickly covered his eyes with his hands. He turned around and tried to fly out of the Girl's Locker Room, but he forgot to go intangible, and he crashed into the lockers. The girls started throwing towels, hairbrushes, and other items at him.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" he shouted over their screams, cowering in a corner. "I have no control over where I'm going!"

POP!

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

POP!

Danny was never so glad to hear that sound. Still, he stayed in a fetal position, too afraid to see where he had teleported to. Maybe if I stay still, he thought desperately, I won't teleport!

"It's alright, Danny," a kind and familiar voice said. "You're safe here."

Danny opened his eyes slowly, and stared up at Clockwork. The Time Ghost in, the form of an old man, smiled kindly back down at him.

Danny grinned and jumped to his feet. "Clockwork! Man, am I glad to see you! Listen, you have to help me! I can't stop teleporting everywhere, and I'm seeing things I really don't want to be seeing, going places I shouldn't be going, and you probably already know about all of this, because you're the Master of Time and everything, but I have to tell you because—"

"Danny, you have something on—"

"—I'm freaking out here, because I can't stop teleporting—"

"Danny, your head—"

"—and I'm seeing things I should not be not be seeing, and it won't stop, Clockwork, make it stop!" Danny leaned his head against his Guardian/mentor's chest, whimpering pathetically. "Make it stop…"

Clockwork hesitated, unsure. He reached up a hand, and patted Danny awkwardly on the shoulder. "I…I'm sorry, Danny," he said, sounding sincerely apologetic. "It's not my place to help you."

Danny's shoulders slumped in defeat. He drew away from the timeless ghost and shook the hand off his shoulder. "Yeah…I should have figured that…Sorry for putting you on the spot, Clockwork."

Clockwork changed into a toddler. He sighed, and shook his head. "There is nothing to apologize for, Danny. You ask far less of me than most ghosts. However," his tone made Danny glance despondently up at him, "I can tell you it will end soon."

Danny straightened, and his eyes brightened with hope. "Really?"

The Time Master nodded sagely. "Indeed." He smirked, and it was very odd to see such a sarcastic look on a kid's face. "By the way, Danny. You have something on your head."

Danny frowned. He brought his hand to his head and pressed down, immediately feeling something lacy. He grabbed it and brought it down to eye level. It was a white bra. Danny let out a half-yelp and quickly tossed it away from him. He wiped his hand against his pants, making a face.

Clockwork chuckled, now a middle-aged man. "I thought you were over the 'cootie' stage by now, Danny."

Danny grimaced. "I'm fourteen, and I have an older sister. You do the math."

Clockwork nodded. "Fair enough. You have ten seconds before you teleport again."

Danny looked dismayed. "So soon? Can you tell me where I'm going?"

"Home, Danny. To Fenton Works." Danny smiled in relief. "But you won't get a warm welcome."

He frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Five…"

"Clockwork!"

"Four…"

"I can't believe you're counting down!"

"Three…"

"Whoever heard of Master of all Time counting down the time?"

"Two…"

"'Hey, I'm Clockwork! I'm counting down because I'm awesome like that—'"

"One."

POP!

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

POP!

"GHOST!"

"Ghost!"

"Warning! Warning! Ecto-entity in the lab."

Danny blinked. "Wow. What a welcome home…"

His mom grabbed an ecto gun off one of the lab tables and shot at Danny. He gasped and quickly dove beneath it, escaping the shot by a hair. Jack shot a net at Danny, but it missed him completely. Still in a ball, it ricocheted off the wall and expanded over Maddie, knocking her to the ground and sending her gun flying. Danny clamped his hands over his mouth, trying to smother his giggles.

"Jack!" Maddie shouted angrily, struggling inside the net.

"Sorry, sweet cheeks!" Jack dropped the net launcher and grabbed the weapon they'd been working on before Danny arrived. "I'll get you out of there as soon as I capture this ghost!"

"Jack! We haven't fixed the—"

"BONSAI!" Jack pulled the trigger. Ectoplasmic goop shot into his face.

"—trigger…"

Danny wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed by his father (again), or be grateful he messed up an attack (again). He just chuckled weakly, and rubbed the back of his neck.

POP!

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

POP!

As soon as the green mist cleared, Danny looked around his new surroundings. What he saw made him grimace, and not just because the green and gold color scheme was an eyesore.

"Ah, Daniel. I was wondering when you'd 'pop' in."

Vlad stepped out of a darkened hallway, haunting smirk in place. Danny spun around and crossed his arms over his chest, lifting an eyebrow. "Do you always have to make a creepy entrance, or is this another fruitloop thing?"

Vlad huffed, looking offended. "It's dramatic, Daniel, not creepy."

"Where'd you learn it from, Villainy for Dummies? Seems like overcompensation if you ask me."

Vlad's eyes flashed red, before he schooled his expression into one of mocking regret. "I was going to offer you my expertise on teleporting, but if you're going to be immature, I have more important things to do." He turned around, walking back into the dark hallway.

Danny gasped, and quickly flew in front of the man. "Whoa, hold on!" He held up his hands in front of Vlad, forcing him to stop. "You can stop this? You can make me stop teleporting?" Vlad nodded, and Danny smiled happily. "Great! I—Wait." The smile fell from his face, and he eyed the man suspiciously. "What's in it for you?"

Vlad's lips twisted into a smirk. "No longer naïve enough to expect anything for free. I'm proud of you, little badger. My price is the usual."

"Renounce my dad and become your evil apprentice?" Danny crossed his arms again. "Forget it, Vlad."

Vlad shrugged his shoulders. "Then enjoy the rest of your life filled with uncertainty." He walked around Danny, raising a hand in farewell. "Ta."

Danny winced. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. He hated teleporting. If he ever got out of the rut he had fallen into, he swore the power would definitely be crossed off his list…He groaned, and flew after Vlad. "Vlad wait!"

Vlad halted, his expression triumphant. "Yes?"

Danny refused to meet his eyes. "I…The reward isn't worth the price, Vlad, but…will you teach me to control this power for…Mom's cell number?"

Vlad's eyes sparkled in interest. "You'll give me her phone number?"

It was difficult, but Danny managed to keep from grinning triumphantly. "She'll probably never forgive me, but yes. I mean, it's not like you'll get anywhere with it…"

Vlad smiled cockily. "I assure you, Daniel, I can be quite charming. I'll be your legal father in no time." Danny gagged, and Vlad rolled his eyes. "I suppose we have a deal?" Vlad held out his hand.

Danny stared at it, making a show of hesitating. "Alright…" He reached out and grabbed the other hybrids hand. "Deal."

POP!

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

POP!

Danny blinked, and when his eyes opened, it wasn't Vlad's ugly décor that greeted his sight, but Amity's newspaper office. People occupied cubicles, writing down stories on computers and scribbling notes in their notebooks, but no sign of Vlad.

"No!" Danny screamed, frantically searching the office for his savior. He could have followed him in ghost form, right? The sound of typing and pencils scribbling on paper instantly ceased, but Danny didn't notice. "I was so close to ending this!" He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth on the open air. "I finally outsmarted the creep, and I get whooshed off before I can even celebrate! Where's justice in that? Is this some great cosmic joke? Just—"

POP!

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

POP!

"GHOST!"

"Jack! Get this net off me!"

"—how many people are laughing at me? The Observants—"

POP!

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

POP!

"Danny Phantom!"

"—are probably having a grand ol' time laughing at me, the jerks. No doubt Vlad finds this whole thing amusing—"

POP!

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

POP!

"Breach in Sector 11! Again!"

"—because he's a total bastard like that. Clockwork, Master of all Annoyingness, acted—"

POP!

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

POP!

"BEWARE!"

"—all sincere, but I bet he's laughing on the inside!"

POP!

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

POP!

"Mr. Phantom! A few questions—"

"And don't even get me started on my friends—"

POP!

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

POP!

"—probably laughing about it at this very moment! Some friends!"

"Danny?"

Danny spun around. His friends stared up at him, along with the whole Casper High cafeteria. He was floating over the lunch line, and even the lunch ladies were gaping openly at him. Slop slipped off one of their spoons.

Danny laughed. "Great. Just great. Of course I'd wind up here, again."

"Danny," Sam hissed, "go invisible!"

Considering the students were starting to rush in his direction, that was sound advice. Danny turned invisible. His fans slowed, groaning in disappointment, but Danny felt no sympathy. He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, and whispered, "I'll meet you guys at our table." She nodded and whispered the message to Tucker.

Danny sat in his designated seat and placed his head in his hands, just taking time to relax and not think about anything. A few minutes later, Tucker and Sam sat at the table on either side of him.

"Danny?" Sam asked quietly. "Are you still here?"

Danny nodded his head, but realized they couldn't see it. He sighed. "Yes."

Tucker stuffed some mystery meat into his mouth. "So how's your day been?" he asked cheerfully.

Danny groaned.

"Aw, it can't be that bad." He grinned, and nudged what he hopped was Danny's shoulder and not his head. "Sam says you teleported into the girl's locker room while they were changing…"

Sam stabbed her salad, growling low in her throat. She muttered what Danny assumed were threats against mankind.

"They nearly killed me, Tuck."

"Yeah, but you would have died a happy man!"

Danny's lips twitched. "True…"

Sam slammed her spork down, her face flaming. "We are never speaking of it again, and you—" she pointed a threatening finger at Danny's seat "—are going to forget what you saw. Got it?"

"…I don't think I can, Sam…"

Sam growled, and Tucker laughed. Danny smiled, though they couldn't see it, and snuck a fry from Tucker's tray. Being invisible had its perks.

"The school is in an uproar, Danny," Sam said after a minute of silence. "…More than usual. Valerie is going crazy trying to find you, Paulina constantly fixes her makeup, and the teachers seem to be competing against each other…"

Tucker nodded. "There's even a bet going around about where you'll pop in next!"

Danny raised an unseen eyebrow. "Do I want to know who started the bet, Tuck…?"

Tucker coughed into his fist. "Depends on what you plan to do to him—or her! For all we know, the evil, clever, and no doubt charming mastermind might have been a girl."

Danny rolled his eyes, and stole another fry from the 'clever mastermind'. "Uh-huh."

"Have you learned any control yet?" Sam asked.

Danny grumbled. "No. I convinced Vlad to help me, though."

"How'd you manage that?" Sam asked.

He smirked slyly. "By offering my mom's cell phone number."

Tucker frowned. "But your mom doesn't—" His eyes cleared in understanding. He smiled at Danny. "Niiice, dude."

"So, you know how to stop now?" Sam asked.

Danny sighed. "No. Before he had a chance to tell me, I teleported away."

"Well," Tucker said, "that explains the rant. That must have been really frustrating."

"I wasn't ranting!" Danny protested. "I was…expressing my anger to the universe."

"In other words, ranting," Sam concluded.

"…Alright fine, I ranted."

"Maybe there's a pattern to it," Sam suggested. "You've been here for a while. What are you doing differently now?"

Danny shrugged. "Talking to you guys, focusing on not teleporting so I have a chance to relax."

"Maybe that's the answer then. You just have to concentrate on your surroundings and on staying in one place."

He grimaced. "I don't know, Sam. What about when I—"

POP!

Sam groaned, and leaned back in her chair. "Great. Here we go again."

Tucker chuckled. "Look on the bright side, Sam. At least the bet—that I had no part in making—is still on. I'm going to be rich!" He went to grab a fry, but the bucket was empty. He frowned down at his tray. "Where'd my fries go?"

#Danny Phantom #Sam Manson #Tucker Folely #apples keep the ghosts away #light-hearted fanfiction #old fic #writing trance

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

Like You

Trequel to Half Of and The only ghost in Amity Park

“We need to talk, Fenton,” Valerie hissed, slamming Danny’s locker shut in his face. He pursed his lips and lowered his gaze but said nothing. Manson scoffed and stepped right up, putting her finger in Valerie’s face.

“He doesn’t owe you anything, Val so lay off. If he wants to talk to you, he will, not because you demanded it.” Val grabbed Sam’s wrist, strong but still such delicate bones. The goth flinched a bit as Valerie applied pressure.

“Only my friends,” Valerie hissed with a hard look over at Danny, “get to call me Val. But I guess we’re not friends if you kept something like this from me.”

“Val...erie, let her go,” Danny mumbled quietly. “We’ll talk after school, meet me by the equipment shed behind the football field.”

“Alone,” Val said, flicking away Sam’s wrist. “None of your adoring, enabling entourage, new or old.”

“No way in hell,” Sam said, clearly resisting the urge to hold onto her injured wrist. “Like we’d trust Danny with someone like you.”

“What? Human?” Valerie asked back. Danny stuck his hands between them and forced them apart. Now that Val was looking, the entire hall was watching them. Whatever, they didn’t matter.

“Cut it out,” Danny frowned, looking over both of them. “Sam, I’ll be fine talking to her alone.” He turned back to her with his blue eyes. As long as she’d known him, Danny’s had a presence about him. She took it as growing up in such a strange house and later her growing crush. But there was no way to explain away the icy, electric feel of his gaze holding her own. “3:30, equipment shed, just talking. Okay?”

“Fine,” Valerie said, turning and stomping down the hall so she had the last word. The rest of the day passed slowly as she gripped the sides of her desk and bounced her leg, thinking about Danny Fenton. How long had Danny been a ghost or half of one, how was that even possible? Had he always been that way and she simply hadn’t noticed? Her? The best ghost hunter in Amity? How much of Danny was real and what was just a cruel ghostly joke? That’s the question that burned the most. Danny seemed to be the only one who liked this new, more grounded Valerie. What would she do if her closest friend was just messing with her?

Finally, school ended and she stalked purposefully towards the equipment shed. Interesting choice of location, it was almost never used since most every day sports gear was stored in the locker rooms. Did he chose it because it was isolated? Danny didn’t seemed worried about confronting her alone, what abilities could he have that he wasn’t scared of her? That made her pause once the shed came into sight. She’d only heard about Danny’s powers, never having ever seen them firsthand. Valerie took an ectogun from her bag and slipped it in back waistband of her skirt. Just in case.

Danny was sitting on the roof of the shed, weirdly enough. It would be next to impossible to climb so he had to have flown. She’d already heard of him floating but the idea of Danny Fenton and superpowers still didn’t add up in her head. He was rubbing at a tear in his jeans when she approached. Danny gave a little awkward half smile that, a few days ago, would have sent her stomach into somersaults. Now seeing it just made her sick.

“Are you gonna hide up there all day?” She asked curtly, hands on her hips.

“You could always join me up here,” Danny shrugged, getting more comfortable on the roof. Val raised a disbelieving eyebrow, eyeing the lack of handles and the broken splinters on the old shed. “We’re far enough away, no one will see you use your hoverboard.” Just when Valerie thought he was done being surprised. She gaped open mouthed at Danny who got nervous and rubbed his hands anxiously. “You uh you wanted to talk so I thought we ought to lay all our cards on the table.” He took a deep breath, “I know you’re the Red Huntress Val...erie.”

“How!” She demanded, activating her board without thought to get to the roof. She grabbed Danny by the shirt and hauled him forward until their faces were inches apart. His body radiated a soft chill that brushed against her skin. He held up his hands in surrender.

“Since the start, Sam and I, we saw you in the park, remember? You caught us uhhhh,” Danny trailed off, looking away with a blush. It took Val a minute but she remembered one of her first outings with the suit, she was chasing Phantom and his stupid dog only to find Danny and Sam kissing in the bushes. She hadn’t cared about the love lives of losers at the time. It had only become relevant when she started catching feeling for Danny but he’d assured her multiple times that he and Manson weren’t a couple. “It wasn’t real, the kiss I mean. It was Sam’s idea, you surprised us and we didn’t have time to hide so you didn’t...” he trailed off.

"Didn’t, what?” She demanded. Valerie gasped when Danny simply phased out of her grip and assuming his previous position on the roof. She stared for a moment at her hands before looking up again at Danny who was back to fiddling with his clothes. There it was, irrefutable proof that Danny wasn’t human. It felt like her heart was being chipped away with a hammer.

“Look, this has been kind of a hard week for me,” Danny groaned, raking his hands forcefully through his hair. “I get my powers outed, I need to convince my parents not to kill me the rest of the way, keep the ghosts off my back for a period, get the government to acknowledge my existence all the while dealing with everyone’s stares and questions at school.” He tucked his knees closer and flopped his face into them. “I said I would be honest with you and I’m trying but I’ve already had to give so much of myself this week and... I don’t know, what do you even want from me?”

“I want answers!” Valerie tried to demand but it came across as more whiney. She pushed back any tears that were threatening to come. “I want to know what was real! Was our friendship real? Our feelings? Are you even real? And if you knew I Huntress all this time then why... why would you even talk to me? Were you just playing with me? Spying on me? What did you want with me?”

“I’m real, Val, I promise,” He held out his hand and she reluctantly took it. His hand was chilly but there always where, it was also solid with knobbing bones and ropy muscles. Beneath it all, there was a sluggish but persistent pulse. She squeezed his hand, it was a human hand and yet it had also passed right through her. How could he be real and not real at once?

“As for what I wanted, just a friend really,” Danny said, keeping his head on his folded knees but turning towards her. She read nothing but sincerity in his eerily blue eyes. “Sam, Tuck and I, we have serious history. We know each other inside and out. But you, you were someone new. I loved hearing about your interests, your dreams, finding out who you were as a person beyond that jerk who made fun of me the second week of Freshman year for wearing my dad’s jumpsuit to school. I liked being able to be a normal person with you, I think I had started to forget with the whole ghost thing going on.”

“What happened?” Valerie couldn’t help but ask.

“Lab accident,” Danny said quietly, “Sam and Tuck were there, wasn’t pretty. Thought I was goner for sure. I survived somehow but I got some freaky powers out of the deal. There’s downsides but some sweet benefits,” he tilted his head back and looked longingly up at the sky. “Flying is the best.”

“Yeah,” Val couldn’t help but sigh in agreement. She could almost the feel the sensation of the wind whipping against her suit. Hear the roar as she soared through the clouds. It was hard to imagine Danny flying but his eyes shined with understanding she usually only saw in the mirror. “So why did you hang out with me knowing I hunted ghosts?”

“It just sorta happened, You obviously sensed that Sam and Tucker weren’t too happy about the risk.” No kidding, Val had gotten warmer welcomes from freezers. “But you were cool, Val. Plus you,” he paused and seemed to consider his words. “I felt like once we got over the hump you would get it in a way the other don’t. You know what it like to balance two lives, to have insane power at your fingertips, to feel like if you take even a second break that the ghosts will overwhelm the town. It’s just... a lot to deal with alone, Sam, Tucker and Jazz, they try to understand but they just don’t.”

He looked over at her, “I guess it was nice to know that there was someone like me out there,” he blushed, “and that someone uh liked me. For being me, y’know?”

“Clearly I didn’t know everything,” she grumbled watching as Danny winced. Val frowned, she probably wasn’t being entirely fair, she hadn’t exactly been honest with Danny either.

“So you fight ghosts, huh?” Valerie couldn’t help was ask with a little smile. Trying to picture it. The Danny she thought she knew wouldn’t but this Danny... “Is that why you’re always running out of class?”

“Isn’t that why you leave?” He teased back hesitantly. “I’m honestly a little surprised no one figured me out before. I was really bad at hiding at first. Of course it’s only when I get the whole ‘secret identity’ thing down that I get exposed.” He huffed, the ends of his hair lifting out of his eyes.

“Secret identity, so you can turn into a ghost?” Danny was silent. “Have I seen you out there?” More silence. “Have I... have I shot at you?” Everything seemed quiet save for their asynchronous breathing. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“It stung but not enough to keep me down for long,” Danny said, flexing his arms but his smile was strained. There was something about it that was haunting, familiar. She turned to look at the woods because if she stared any longer she’d realize which ghost Danny turned into and neither of them was ready for that right now.

“So now what?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Danny sighed. “I’m kind of taking it one day at a time. Mom and Dad are nervous, jumpy, I’m not sure if they’re more scared of me or of themselves and what they did. My sister and friends are being annoyingly overprotective. People who hated me last week are suddenly in my face asking questions and demanding demonstrations. The government wants to kill me but,” he snorted a little, and tilted his head towards her floppily. “I'm also talking to you about this part of my life for the first time. Lying was a necessity I never grew comfortable with, I think I could do with a bit of honesty.”

“Yeah me too,” Valerie said, straightening up and looking Danny in the eye. “I’m still not sure how I feel about this. I don’t like ghosts and I likely never will. I’m going to continuing being Huntress and keeping the town safe. But I’m willing to give you chance, give you time to open up completely. It’ll give us both times to come to terms with everything, and maybe then we can figure out where we stand.”

“I’ll take it!” Danny beamed, “I was worried you were coming here to off me with that ectogun you have stashed in your skirt so this is much better!”

“How did you-” She gasped.

He winked and tapped his forehead, “I’m pretty sensitive to ectoplasm, especially out here in the real world. Gotta admit sometimes when my energy was low, I sought you out. Did you know your suit radiates a low level ectoplasmic field, even when you’re not wearing it?” He twisted his face in thought. “Now that we’re talking-talking, I should warn you what side effects excess exposure to ectoenergy can cause.” He twisted his hand and a small green ectoblast formed in his palm briefly before dissipating. “If that worries you, my parents can hook you up with some sweet ghost hunting equipment that won’t contaminate you.”

“So I could have powers like you one day?” She asked carefully, looking over her hands thoughtfully.

“Maybe, I don’t know. Mine was a kind of one in a million accident, well, two,” he made a face. “That’s whole other story, don’t ask. But we could maybe find out together, Val,” he winced. “Valerie.”

“Val is fine,” she said quietly, still thinking too many things. “We have a lot of things to figure out but in the meantime, you can keep calling me Val.”

“I’d like that,” he smiled. “So uh, do you want to come to movie night tomorrow? It’s at my house this week. I uh always wanted to invite you before but Sam, Tuck and I usually end up talking ghost stuff during the movie so we couldn’t before but if you’re interested... could be fun to have you there. We’re watching The Shining.”

“That movie is like a billion years old,” Val laughed with an eyeroll.

“It’s a classic, I was named after the kid in that movie!” Danny defended. “I’ll text you the details but its up to you. Either way, we’ll uh, we’ll keep talking. See you around, Val.” And just like that, he vanished. She swiveled her head around but Danny Fenton was truly gone.

“Jerk,” she grumbled but there was no heat to it. She heard a giggle above her and knew Danny, in his secret ghost form, was probably flying. And it was too nice a day to walk home. She activated her suit and took to the skies herself. Valerie didn’t know if Danny was with her or not, she just turned off her brain and fell into the motion of aggressive loops and high speed dives around her town.

Everything had turned upside down with the knowledge that Danny wasn’t who she thought he was. But again, things had been crazy since the ghosts first came to town. So she and Danny were at a stand still, not friends and not enemies, not open but not secretive either. It was a weird state to be in but Danny was probably used to being in a state of half life himself. But she’d worry about all that later, for now it just her and sky.

#surprise bitch bet you thought you saw the last of me #why am I adding to this series when I have so much else to be doing #anyway tada #if you liked Danny seeming okay and feral the last two parts #get ready for Danny whos actually really stressed and emotionally vulnerable #I actually was gonna have Danny confess everything to Val #but that line that 'he's given so much of himself away already' hit me deep #and I realized neither of them weren't ready yet #Val needed to adjust to this newer danny before learning hes phantom #and danny needed time before he had to let go of more of his carefully hidden secrets #they're at a standstill #who knows how long they'll remain as such #and if Val sat down and thought for .2 seconds she would know #but she *doesn't want to* not right now #at some point she'll make the logical leap but for now she's digesting as much as she can #if you thought Val was taking it too well #I just put faith in that past her anger Val is ultimately a good person and never really wanted to hurt the only friend who never abandoned

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remsmoonlight · 3 years

Text

— title : just drive

— word count : 1.6k words

— pairing : rick grimes x reader

— summary : never had the inability to drive been a reason to divulge, nor had it been a problem. until a horde of walkers are trailing behind you, that is.

— warnings : swearing, implication of anxiety, mentions of death / potential car accidents, mentions of blood and gore

note: two imagines in two days i can’t believe my productivity, i thought it would be funny that being unable to drive in a zombie apocalypse would be funny because it would be such a useful ability to have ( ahem ahem my non driving ass ) this was meant to be like 500 words but it got away from me, anyways enjoy three hours of my nonsense!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Burning. The sensation is fierce as you fight your own body to force more oxygen into your airways, to power you along to escape the deathly growls that follow behind you. Paranoia stokes its own fire, the feeling that walkers are much closer than they actually are push you to lighter steps in the barren dirt, the only tracks laid into its path are the ones you are currently forming with every inch you put between you.

Exactly how you’d gotten into this situation is not something you mind wants to visit currently, more concerned with your current predicament.

“ We’ll turn left up ahead, we passed a few cars a while back. “

“ That's as good a plan as any. “ You rush out in one breath, the words with a ghostly tone while you try to find your voice. Everything hurts, the idea of more running is not something you find appealing.

You wonder if the walkers are able to run, any thought to distract yourself from the aching your muscles feel at the physical exertion you’re being put through. For a fraction of a fleeting second, you turn your gaze backwards, your eyes running across the line of walkers that want to make the sky above you rain with your blood across the greenery as you flee. They do a very good job of speed walking, the amount of energy they have for being dead is something that unnerves you. Even after you have caffeine in your bloodstream, you have never had this much energy. What is their secret?

Tears blur your sight as you set your eyes on a graveyard of cars, dust that covers every inch of the metal machines show their age.

“ Rick! “ You exclaim, a new flower of hope blooming in your voice as your finger shakily raises to point in the direction of the car park. “ Over there! “

Both of you split instantly as you reach the space, your hands tugging at the handles of the vehicles, wishing with every fibre of your beings that one is unlocked — or at the very least, there is a key to unlock them nearby. Extremely nearby.

“ This one! “ Your voice carries over the distance resoundingly, the door opens with a click that blesses your hearing.

“ Yeah.. We’re lucky today. “ Rick mumbles to himself, flinging the bags that had been weighing on his shoulders into the back.

In the suddenness of the situation, your heart plummets below with a steep drop that you swore will not end. I can’t fucking drive. You gasp at the realisation of it, desperation twisting and contorting around the entirety of your body.

“ Rick.. “ Turning towards Rick swiftly, you pause in your confession. An uncomfortable heat warms your cheeks as you study him, unsure of how he would react during the worst possible moment for the disclosure. “ We need to switch places! “

“ What? “ His brows knit together as he asks you, confusing misting him completely. “ Why? Start the car! “

“ I do — I can’t drive! “

The confession leads Rick to momentarily splutter in response, his words cowering under the veil that is his tongue. Colour drains from his features, a continuous slap against the back of the car’s window from a lone walker ahead of the horde pushes him into a brisk movement. The action is awkward, the lack of space threatening to cause harm in the form of bruises from knocking limbs against various parts of its interior.

“ Just drive! “

With a haggard start, you examine the way your surroundings appear to move, realising that the vehicle is awake and increasing with speed as it puts space between you and the dead. You lean your head against the window, one of your hands moves towards the temple of your head to message some of the tension of almost being eaten away. That had been too close for comfort.

“ Uh, y’know I gotta ask — “

“ How I can’t drive, right? “ You finish, your eyes roll in response, you know he’s going to find too much amusement in making fun of you.

“ And how you made it this far. “ He drawls, humour embedded in his response as his eyes continue to survey the road ahead.

Your teeth bite the side of your cheek, with strength that almost is able to draw the crimson liquid that lays beneath your flesh. Lips purse at the enjoyment you can feel radiating off of his body, as it wishes itself into existence.

“ I don’t know! “ You grumble loudly, your shoulders lift temporarily in response. “ I’m just always with someone who knows how to operate one of these things. “

“ You never learnt before? “

“ I mean.. I always had a fear of driving. No reason, just the thought that one wrong move and.. “ a shudder rips through your body with a blinding pace, your fingers lay tapping at your thigh. “ I could cause an accident, or even be in one would scare me to death! “

“ That’s understandable. “ Rick nods, glancing in your direction before breaking out in a grin. “ Kinda. “

A heavy groan vibrates inside of the car, you throw your hands up in the air as you realise he’s one of the worst people to divulge this information to. Your addition to the group hadn’t occurred as earlier as most of them, they’d been kind enough to accept you into their family after escaping Terminus. On a rare night, nightmares of that cursed location shatters the mirror of a dreamy slumber into a thousand shards that scar your mind for the nights that follow. Echoes of screams from those captured, treated no more than a prize cow that awaits its slaughter to service those with the butcher’s knife.

Truthfully, you’d gravitated towards the man. With the amount of trauma you’d been through, the way that when he speaks, you craved the comfort his words never lost. Certainty and confidence are still with him today, often leading you to believe everything will be alright. Even if the road between Georgia and Alexandria had been filled with gore and tears, everything has turned out fine. So far.

“ You are being so annoying right now. “ Cursing the man, you show him your middle finger.

Rick says nothing, he merely chuckles in response. You almost allow your mind to tread into the murky waters of the man you used to know and the transformation into the man he is now.

“ I just.. “ shaking his head, the cheeky glint in his eyes only sparkles more as it grows in size. “ How d’you not run into this problem earlier? “

“ I don’t know! “

“ It’s nothin’ short of amazin’. “ a gust of air is released from his lips, only now does he realise they’re dehydrating from the amount of running done that afternoon.

Trees and bushes blend into one another, creating a vivid merging of shades, providing a soothing palette to paint the most tranquil of artworks. You envy the way life has flourished under the lack of human traffic, trampling the environment without a care, you wish you could undergo the same change the way it has. The human mind has a way of making obstacles difficult for itself.

“ I just.. Can’t help but find it funny. Drivin’s.. It’s a way of survivin’ when you got more than one of them on your ass. “

“ Well I guess I am an outlier to that rule. “ your brows move with the motions your head makes as you try to muster an air of superiority over the notion.

You find yourself wishing you hadn’t succumbed to your fears, that you’d bit the bullet and studied and practiced as much as humanly possible. The fear of driving hadn’t been the only thing that stopped you from pursuing the ability, but the idea of having to take a written exam and an actual driving test? The two often colliding in an infinite clash of wills that left your insides in a constant, battered wreck every time you thought about the idea.

All you want is to be able to do that one thing, after all, so many had done so before. You’re sure that everyone, minus the children, are able to drive. Such a simple thing, you’d never thought would prove to be such a thorn in your side when you’d take the train to work. Life has a way of stitching together a set of circumstances only to treat them like dominos, destroying the work with little regard as it watches them fall one by one. The carefully nursed structure is a shell of what it used to be, the resting place of what could have been.

“ You didn’t give up, y’kept fightin’. I’ve seen people able to hotwire these things taken down. It ain’t the car that keeps a person alive, it’s them. “ He assures you warmly, as much as he wants to continue to find amusement in lacking what is now deemed as a life skill, it doesn’t take a genius to realise you’re becoming annoyed by the poking and the prodding his humour brings.

“ That’s oddly.. Uplifting. “

“ I do say these things from time to time, no need to sound so surprised. “

“ They’re so rare I forget. “ A smirk lifts the corner of your lips as you eye the man from the side. It is your turn to laugh now.

Light hearted chatter fills the limited space, conversation flowing just that little bit more freely now that danger no longer pursues you in earnest. You’re thankful for a drop of normalcy in a sea of skeletons that surround the world now, you can pretend that — even for a little, it’s a normal day.

“ What d’you say to havin’ some drivin’ lessons? “

#rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x reader #twd imagine #rick grimes fic #twd fic

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Text

for tma fantasy week prompt 7: legend

Jon’s foot slips on a tree root, and he nearly falls before he manages to catch himself on a tree, the rough bark cutting into the palm of his hand. He mutters a curse and checks to make sure he hasn’t dropped any items from his basket. The mushrooms and herbs seem to be in order, and Jon carefully tucks a delicate white flower back into place before starting forward again.

That’s what he gets for foraging at night, he supposes. But the flowers he’s looking for bloom in a very specific time frame, and if he doesn’t pick them then, they’ll lose their medicinal quality. So, Jon grits his teeth and slows his pace slightly, taking more care with where he places his feet lest he end up actually hurting himself or—gods forbid—losing some of his supplies. He needs those flowers; most of his medicines rely on the little purple blossoms clustered near the shore of the lake, and he’s the only one who makes them. So, he spends most of his nights in the woods and most of his days fighting off exhaustion. The bags under his eyes have reached rather impressive proportions.

It’s not his fault everyone else is too scared to venture into the woods at night. Putting so much stock in a local legend, in what is essentially a child’s tale, is ridiculous, and Jon will have no part of it.

He’s heard the legend before, of course, so many times that the words have begun to grate on his ears like sandpaper. According to legend, there had once been a man who lived in the very center of the forest. He lived alone, isolated and hidden away in the trees, with only the flora and fauna for company. But it had never bothered him, and he had spent his time painting the forest in yellows and purples and blues, spreading wildflowers all the way to the edges of the wood and carving paths in the earth for creeks and streams to flow. (This was the part that annoyed Jon the most; a man living alone in the woods he could believe, but that? Ridiculous.)

The man had grown comfortable being alone. He’d loved it. And then, one day, another came to the center of the wood, looking to build a home there. The stranger stepped on the flowers the man had carefully cultivated and scared away the birds and disrupted the gentle silence of the trees and the leaves with boisterous words. So, from within the forest, the man summoned a great fog, thick and heavy as it rolled over the ground and through the trees, and swallowed the stranger whole. And then the man was alone again.

Something something legend says he still lives in the woods, something something only comes out at night, something something people sometimes see fog peeking through the trees when they get too close, whatever. It’s all nonsense. Jon knows it is, because he’s been visiting the forest at night for months and he’s never seen anything but a few startled rabbits and a plethora of moths.

They’d even named the place after him. Blackwood Forest. Jon had always disliked the name—it felt rather repetitive for it to contain both wood and forest, and there had almost certainly never been a man called Blackwood living in this forest.

Jon is crouched by the lake, halfway through collecting that night’s quota of flowers, when he realizes with a start that he can’t see his hands clearly anymore. They’re hazy before him, like he’s viewing them through warped glass, and when he looks up and over the lake, he’s met with only grey, stagnant and flat and unmoving as it surrounds him.

Jon stands, gripping his basket tightly. He can barely see its contents; they’re smudged by the fog, turned greyscale and desaturated. His own skin looks sickly, like all the color has been drawn out of it.

“Hello?” he says, his voice too-loud in the stillness that surrounds him, and if it shakes a bit he pretends it doesn’t because he’s not scared. There’s no ghostly specter of a man planning to trap him in fog forever. It’s a temperate night; fog is to be expected. There’s nothing supernatural about a bit of fog.

Then, a voice drifts out of the fog, and Jon nearly drops his basket in shock.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” it says. The words reverberate through the fog, echoing over and over again until they trail away into nothing.

What? Indignance wipes away Jon’s surprise in the span of a breath, and he snaps back, “I can go where I very well please, thank you. I’ve been coming here for months, and I’m not going to stop just because you tell me to.”

Gods, he’s talking to fog. This is a new low for him.

There’s a moment of silence before Jon swears he hears the fog sigh. It’s almost absurd enough to make him laugh. “Still, you… you should leave.”

Jon scoffs and decides to entertain, just for a moment, the notion that he’s speaking to the man everyone’s convinced is haunting these woods. “What, can’t you just threaten to steal me away? To hold me captive in the fog forever? Apparently, it’s what you do.”

It’s quiet for a long while—long enough that Jon begins to shift impatiently and consider how long it might take him to navigate out of the forest without being able to see the route in front of him. Then, so quietly Jon can barely hear it, the voice says, “It’s not.”

If Jon didn’t know any better, he’d think that whatever’s hiding in the fog sounds sad. “What?”

The fog clusters a bit heavier around Jon, tickling at his skin and leaving behind a fine mist of water, before retreating suddenly, leaving the ground and the trees bare around him, illuminated by the moon above. And, not five feet away, stands a man, his edges blurred and every part of him an icy white, from the curls that spill down his shoulders to his skin to the cloak he has wrapped tightly around him (though, when Jon looks closer, he thinks that might actually be fog, thick and clinging to the man’s skin). The man is looking at a point just behind Jon’s shoulder, avoiding his eyes. “It’s not,” he repeats. “I- I don’t want to hurt anyone. I haven’t hurt anyone.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Who’s there to hurt? Nobody comes here anymore.”

Well. Jon still doesn’t believe in legends, but this is hardly a legend anymore, is it, with the man in question stood there in front of him? A bit warier, Jon says, “So then… what do you want?”

The man looks at Jon then—really looks at him—and a shiver runs through Jon’s body like he’s just stuck his hand in ice water. “I… I don’t really know?” He hugs his cloak tighter to him, the fog shifting as he does so, and continues, “I… I suppose we could… we could talk?”

“Talk,” Jon repeats flatly. “I hardly see why the fog was necessary, then.”

A few tendrils of fog snake out from the man, reaching toward Jon, before the man seems to notice, and they retreat back into the fabric of his cloak. More sharply than Jon expects, the man says, “I’m a bit out of practice, okay? Like, a few decades out of practice. I think I’m allowed a bit of leeway.”

Maybe Jon’s imagining things, but he thinks, just for a moment, that he sees a flash of color—a wisp of tawny brown lacing through the man’s hair. When he blinks, though, it’s vanished, and so he puts it out of mind. “And what did you want to talk about?”

The man pauses at that, wrings his hands together. “Anything?” he says finally with a small shrug. “Like, er… what do you use the viccolas for?”

“The what?”

The man gestures toward Jon’s basket. “The viccolas? They’re one of my favorite flowers here—a shame they only bloom at night, really—and I used to use them in my tea, to- to help with the pain. I, er. I used to be quite ill before I…” The man trails off and makes a small, distressed noise.

“Died?” Jon suggests helpfully.

“What?” The man’s head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with surprise, and there it is again—that small flash of color, just for a moment, this time along the side of the man’s face, a light peach almost indistinguishable from the pale white surrounding it but there all the same. “No, I- I’m not a ghost! Why- why would you think that?”

“To be fair, you do look like one.”

The man makes a frustrated noise. “I- I suppose, but that’s- that’s not what happened! I’m still alive, I’m just not—”

The man cuts off again, sharper this time. When he speaks again, his voice is choked, as if with tears. “I’m just not human anymore, I don’t think.”

Well, Jon could have told him that much. It’s really rather obvious. Still, he doesn’t think that would be well received. So, instead, he says, “I use the flowers for medicines. Nobody else comes into these woods at night, but I’ve never been afraid of- well, of you, I suppose.”

He wants to ask the man if he’d created the flowers. If he’d painted them by the lake like the legends say. But that would be ridiculous, and Jon’s not keen on indulging his own childish sense of curiosity.

“Oh,” the man says quietly. “So, then, you… you’ll keep coming back for them?”

Jon frowns. “Yes, of course. Some of the people I help would die without the medicine I give them.” His expression turns wary again. “So I would suggest you not try to stop me.”

“No, no, of course not,” the man says quickly, looking rather horrified at the thought. Which does put Jon’s mind at peace a little. “I… I suppose I just thought that maybe we- we could talk again? Er, whenever you come back, that is.” He lets out a small, bitten-off laugh. “I promise I won’t surround you with fog this time?”

“Yes, that would be preferable.”

The man’s eyes brighten at that, his irises lit briefly with a flash of baby blue. “Is- is that a yes?”

He looks so excited at the prospect of another conversation with Jon—one that will surely feel just as much like pulling teeth as this one, though that could just be Jon’s poor interpersonal skills. And unlike what some people might think, Jon is not heartless. Besides, he can’t deny that he’s curious about the man who lives at the center of the Blackwood Forest.

“All right,” Jon says with a small nod. “I’ll be back this time next week.”

The lips that smile back at him are rosy red. “G- great! Er, sorry, I- I realize I never actually asked… what’s your name?”

After a pause during which Jon briefly entertains the notion of giving out a false name, he says, “Jon. You can call me Jon.”

“Jon,” the man says, as if testing its weight upon his tongue. “I’m- I’m Martin. Er, Martin Blackwood.”

Right. A bit of truth in the legends after all, then.

Jon leaves with his flowers, and Martin fades back into the fog that hangs over the lake’s surface. And when Jon returns the next week, they talk. And the next, and the next, until it becomes routine. Until it becomes something Jon looks forward to. Until he spends most nights in the woods, sat next to the lake and unraveling every facet of a man whose life is so much more than has been spelled out on paper.

And when the flashes of color begin to resolve into vibrant skin and hair and eyes and Martin begins to cry, Jon wraps his arms around a man who’s become solid once more and finds him warm.

#tma #tma fic #the magnus archives #tmafantasyweek #jonmartin #my fic #my writing #and that's it! ending the week with my most self-indulgent jmart yet #ft. skeptic jon and not-a-ghost martin

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aenxiome · 3 years

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Chapter 3: Suck it up Fenton

The rest of the day ended up being lackluster.

In the beginning, things were going well, seating assignments had been changed, and more teachers roamed the halls during and between classes. Unfortunately, the changes aren't going to last. While teachers were punishing students for bad behavior, it wasn't always the ones who did the deed that got punished. It is almost like the trouble makers started rapidly evolving. Many of the A-List target students got detention, with their reflective bully doing a whole 180 when a teacher showed up. Thankfully I managed not to get detention for a second day and a row, but that may be from Dash getting in trouble earlier today.

I may be giving my classmates more credit than they are worth, though. Before today, none of the teachers ever monitored the events in the hallways—giving everyone free rein to do what they wished without any consequences. This isn't anyone evolving. This is their way of getting around the new, hopefully, standards that they are trying to implement. If things continue to go this way, the A-Lists and others are just going to become less subtle in their actions. Not that I expect them to be able to pull it off in the end, but the new arrangement might cause even more issues.

'Great going Fenton, you just screwed everyone, I tell myself. Not everyone can handle themselves as well as you can. This is going to mean so much trouble. But, I try to look on the bright side, thinking about Astronomy. I got some papers back today, full credit on my star chart, though that's pretty much expected of me at this point. So not too surprising. Hopefully, other classes will improve with the seating arrangements being changed, but there is no way of telling if they truly will.

Once classes were over and done with, I met up Sam and Tucker at the Nasty Burger. The restaurant is just starting to get busy with the constant incoming groups of students coming through the door. Thankfully we can claim our regular booth and put in an order for food. " So, how did your guys' day go?" Tucker asks, fiddling with one of his newer PDAs. He goes through PDAs as Dad goes through fudge, a lot of them and all the time. Sam and I just shrug in response and continue the conversation going through some random small talk.

In the middle of our conversation, Tucker suddenly goes still and stares at the PDA. He shoves the device in front of Sam's face making her read whatever has grabbed his attention. Once she is done looking at whatever it is, she and Tucker make eye contact conveying something to each other that I am unable to make out. Sam starts to say something but is interrupted by our food arriving.

"Danny," Tucker says as I shove fries into my mouth, " what happened last night?" I give him a questioning look. Sam slides over the PDA it is showing a local news article. The headline, "MORE DESTRUCTION IN AMITY," is plastered at the top. Below it shows a picture of a destroyed abandoned lot, the same lot from the fight with Skulker earlier this morning.

MORE DESTRUCTION IN AMITY

by Charisma Lynn

This morning residents of this local neighborhood woke up to the remains of another ghost fight. All around the grounds, traces of the battle can be found. Burn marks cover the ground in many areas showing the intensity of the fight. When officials first got on the scene, they found a couple of abnormalities not commonly seen. In a couple of different places, shattered pieces of ghostly green energy can be found. At first appearance, the pieces look like stained glass, but after the first contact turns into a gooey substance. Residents are being told not to worry as the substance is completely harmless but to still take caution. Along with the glass-like substance is a frozen piece of the ground. Even in the sunlight, the spot has shown no difference and is as hard as a rock. Out of the earth is a broken piece of ice. So far, we are unable to tell where the ice has come from, but our best guess is from some kind of ghostly interference. Many residents of the neighborhood have to ask where Phantom was? Was he part of the destruction, or is there a new ghost in town? Find out more tonight at 6 on APC.

I look up from the article to see Sam and Tucker staring at me. I shove more unsalted fries into my mouth. Did you know salt is a natural ghost repellent I, unfortunately, learned that the hard way. Never again. I finish chewing before reassuring them, " Guys, it's fine it was just a typical ghost fight." Tucker starts on his food apparently satisfied with my answer while Sam looks like she is getting ready to argue, but I interject before she gets the chance.

" It was just Skulker, it wasn't anything too bad" the mixture of "too bad" and Skulker grabs Tucker's attention once again. With him too now giving me a critiquing look over. " Are you sure dude? You aren't hurt anywhere are you?" His voice started to become a little bit frantic as he says, "Because Im not going to the hospital. Sorry but that's where I draw the line."

" Okay, but that doesn't explain what's up with the ice spot and glassy thingy," Sam says, bringing us back to the point of the conversation. " Not now," I tell them. I glance around the crowded room before looking back to them, "not here."

They look as if they are preparing to argue as I whisper, " in private." I get a couple of questioning looks as I continue, " Theres' too many people that could overhear" With the promise to talk about it later, our meal went back to everyday small talk and griping about whatever else is bothering us.

Thankfully they let it go. For now, at least.

We finish up our meal and leave the restaurant, then start on down the road. "So," Sam asks, looking in my direction, " where exactly are we going? Your place?" I start to agree but get cut off by Tucker, " We should go to the lot." I give him a questioning glance. He continues his thought, saying, " The picture in the article doesn't show much, and you never know the media could be over-exaggerating again."

"Why not," Sam says with the tone of excitement in her voice, " sounds like fun." I stop walking as I think it over. Before I can say anything, the two of them rush off ahead in the direction of the lot while a feeling of dread overtakes me. "Guys," I call out to them, trying to catch back up, " I don't think this is a good idea." I tell them in a rush, "I will tell you about it when we get to my place. We don't need to go there." Sam narrows her eyes at me before saying, "you're hiding something."

" No, that's not it," I wring my hands in my shirt, unsure of how to proceed. She doesn't let up with her glare at my words. Sam sighs and comes towards me, grabs my arm, and pulls me along with her. I try to pull myself away without hurting her, but I just can't seem to do it. Finally, I become resigned and hesitantly follow without protest.

Didn't they read the same article that I did? It says authorities looked at the lot. They would have had to call ghost experts. Who is to say that they still aren't there? What are we going to say if the Guys In White stuck around? Or even worse, my parents.

When we arrive, the lot is empty, only showing past signs of anyone having been here. The three of us cautiously walk towards the destruction. Next to me, I hear Tucker gasp before saying, "Oh my…" he stops himself before saying anything else. Sam isn't much better putting her hand around my arm in a vice grip.

Before them stands the evidence of one of my fights. In the daylight, the damage looks worse than it did under the moon, making me feel even worse about our actions than I already do. The ground doesn't look so much burned but scorched. As if a fire had burned away its beauty and left a hot steaming pile of muck in its place.

The few trees that line the property have missing limbs that have either splintered or lie on the ground. Shards of ectoplasm are scattered around in the grass, waiting for an unsuspecting human to fall victim to its goo or a ghost to impale its self on its sharp edges. In the middle of it, all is the spikey ice collum surrounded by the frozen frosty ground.

" So they under exaggerated this time," Tucker said, trying to bring humor to the situation, " who would have guessed." I look away from them, ashamed. " It didn't look this bad at night," I say softly, " It didn't" Unable to meet their eyes, I walk forward towards the Ice. Sam and Tucker tell me not to touch anything that I don't know where it comes from As I get near it. I ignore them and put my hand on the side of the spike. Even in human form, I am still unable to feel any of its coldness. It feels just as warm as the air around us, a little moist but not cold.

Sam and Tucker, at some point, walk towards the spike and join me at my side while I inspect the spike. " What does it feel like to you?" I ask. " Dude, it's Ice, it's cold. What else is it supposed to feel like?" I continue to glide my hand over the ice while telling them to humor me. I watch as they put their hands onto the ice, and as soon as they touch it, their hands go flying away from it. They both hold their hand as if something is attacking them. "Danny, how can you touch that!" Sam exclaims, " that stuff is freezing!"

" It feels warm to me," I tell them nonchalantly as if this is an everyday occurrence. " Danny, this isn't normal," Sam says in a worried tone. I don't say anything in response, knowing that this isn't normal for human beings, not at all. Instead, I stare at the ice, trying to figure out how to fix it, when suddenly, an idea comes to my head. I look towards them and hum to catch their attention, "Hey, do you think you can back up for a second? I have something I want to try."

As soon as they are far away enough, I check and double-check that no one is around. Before going forward on my idea, I yell to Tucker, " Tuck, can you check for cameras and stuff first?" He pulls out his PDA and tells me, " No problem with 'Simone' I'll know if anything is there in a jiffy." I wait a second until I hear him give the okay and start my attempt.

My eyes start to glow an icy ethereal blue as I stand before the spike and tap into my ice core. I can feel the cold rushing through me and out to my surroundings. In my presence, the spike starts to repair itself as I let my core come to the surface. In the middle of the spike, I can feel a connection to myself, its ectoplasmic connection to myself. Instead of pushing the ice out, I pull it in, and before my eyes, the ice starts to melt. Instead of shattering like before, it slowly becomes raw energy becoming a blue-white blob.

I gather as much energy as I can from the earth, defrosting it and adding it to the rest of the blob. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding when all of the ice finished melting. I look around the lot for the scorched places, instinctively knowing what to do. I melt the icy ectoplasmic blob even more into water and send it around to saturate the ruined earth. When the ecto-water hits the ground, the earth lets out a satisfying hiss. The ground looks as if it has partially recovered, making it look like months have gone by instead of only a few hours since the initial conflict. Slowly I let go of my core, letting my eyes go back to their normal human hue. A smile comes to my face at my accomplishment, and I look over at Sam and Tucker. They are both staring at me with huge eyes with different emotions flashing through them: amazement, surprise, and wonder.

I go to take a step towards them when the world starts to spin. I feel myself stumble forward. " Danny!" I hear my name called out in fear and a rushing of feet coming to me. A wave of nausea hits me hard, and I lose my balance falling forward. Luckily Sam is just close enough for me to fall onto. "Danny," I hear my name called out again, " oh my gosh, are you okay?" Feeling too weak to answer, all I can do is groan.

" What are we going to do?" I hear Tucker ask Sam frantically, " we can make it to his place from here, and both of our houses are on the other side of town." The two of them keep coming up with ideas that won't work to get us out of the lot. I try to interject but just moving my mouth causes me pain.

Finally, I manage to groan out a name, "Jazz," but they don't seem to hear me. I try again, a bit louder this time, "Jazz," Sam stops talking, and when Tucker doesn't, I listen to her hit him in the back of the head. "Hey, what was that for" he complains, "Shush, Danny said something." With the raging quiet for the last time, I groan, "Jazz."

A quick vague phone call later and give or take a few minutes, Jazzs' car pulls up, and they give a sigh of relief. I hear a door slam and a worried Jazz making her way over. When she gets to us, I try to look up at her and grab her attention, but I am unable to reach her eyes. " What happened" She interrogated as she crouches down to take hold of me. I feel fatigued and start to lose track of the conversation. The next thing I know, someone has picked me up, and I'm in the car. I feel at ease with the motion of the car as we race home. It doesn't take long for me to close my eyes and fall asleep.

When I come to, I'm staring at the old stick-on stars that are attached to my bedroom ceiling. I cautiously sit up, feeling the strain of an invisible muscle, my core, in my chest. My sister and friends are spread out in the room, passed out exhausted. I glance at the clock next to my bed and read the time 3:18 AM. I try to get up from the bed, but I tumble down onto the floor. The sound wakes up Jazz, making her spring into action, helping me back up. "Hey," she whispers, "don't move too fast. You are still recovering."

I wince a little at the movement. Once she gets me steady, I whisper, "Can you help me get to the bathroom." She nods and carefully helps me to the bathroom. Once everything is situated, Jazz brings me back to my room and helps me onto the bed. I scoot over, making enough room for her to join me, which she quickly accepts.

"They told me what happened at the lot," she says, motioning towards my friends, " What were you thinking trying something like that?" She admonishes. I snuggle into her, getting comfortable before starting my defense, " I was just trying to clean up the mess we make," With a look, I explain further, " Skulker and I fought there last night. It went a little longer than expected. I didn't realize that we made such a mess."

"What about the ice," she inquires. I give half a shrug, " It was unexpected; I don't know how it happened." I tell her truthfully, " I plan to go visit Frostbite this weekend and see if he knows anything." She starts raking her hand through my hair then continues the conversation, " They said you got rid of the ice and fixed part of the ground? They didn't explain it too well. Care to elaborate?"

"It's weird. I just kind of knew how to do it. It was like…." I trail off, not liking the word I need to use. Jazz, unfortunately, knew where to pick up at, "Instinct?" She questions, with my silence being the only acknowledgment she needs. She sighs before saying, "It's okay, you know, to admit it." We lay there for a while before I decide to respond, " I can't." I react in denial, " If I acknowledge it, then it makes it true." Jazz lets out a breathy laugh at that, " So, what if you don't talk about it? It's going to go away?"

" I wish," I mumble, "It's just if I talk about it, then it becomes more real. I can pretend to be normal." She scoffs at my response, " Normal is overrated anyway." I let out a yawn and looked over at the time 4:03 AM. " Can we talk about this later? It's late." She lets out a yawn of her own, having caught mine before saying accusingly, " You just don't want to talk about it." I don't deny her accusation but put some more distance between the two of us and painfully turn over.

What does she want me to tell her? That I feel drawn to go to Ghost Zone? That I like laying around in my ghost form? I can get away with feeling like me under the stars and use insomnia as an excuse, but there is no way to explain anything else. If I told her some of these things, it would just be more of a confirmation of what I already know: I'm a freak.

" Good night, Jazz."

"Good night, little brother."

#dash baxter #danny phantom #danny fenton #phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #mentions of skulker #skulker

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years

Text

The Quarantine/Awake-the-Snake/2020-Stress fic no one requested but I had FEELS, ok?

Crowley rolled over and opened his eyes for a second, then jerked awake to see a ghostly figure standing next to his bed.

“For Sssssssssssssomeone’s sake, Aziraphale, don’t do that!”

“Ah. Good morning, Crowley.” He stood a bit back from the bed, hands folded. Very subdued, even compared to their last conversation. “I, ah, I rather thought we could…perhaps…talk?”

“Alright, fine.” Crowley shoved his hands into the mattress pushing himself into a sitting position. “Gimme…just a sec…” These long naps didn’t end easily. He rubbed at his eyes, raked fingers through his hair. It had gotten a bit long, and there was stubble on his chin. Blast. He’d slowed down his hair growth, but clearly not enough.

Couldn’t even imagine what his breath smelt like.

“Rrrrrrgh, Angel, can’t you – get me a glass of – oh.” Three cups appeared on his bedside table: Water, tea, and a second, smaller glass of water. Crowley picked up the last and sniffed it. “Vodka? Really?”

“It was the strongest alcohol I could find. Would you prefer rum? Bourbon?”

“Ngk.” He decided to start with the water. “So how long did I sleep? Is it 2021 yet? 2030? The collapse of western civilization?”

“Please don’t joke.” Aziraphale’s hands twisted, tugging on his waistcoat. “I’m sure…it’ll all be fine…soon…Any day now, things will…everyone will pull together and…”

“Shit, Aziraphale.” He finished off his water, running his tongue over his teeth. Demonic morning breath could be…a lot. “What did I miss?”

“Halloween, mostly.” A flicker of a smile. “It, ah, wasn’t much to speak of this year, anyway. I imagine Christmas will be much the same, not that…well…”

“You know me, I love a commercial holiday.” Crowley shifted again, plumping up a pillow to rest his back against. “Things already sounded bad a month ago. How much worse did they get?”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sure it’s not – not worse. Just, you know, the dark before the storm. Er. The calm before dawn. No, no that isn’t…” Aziraphale turned away, blinking furiously. “Never mind, Crowley, I don’t know why I came, just go back to—”

“Aziraphale.” He waited until the angel turned back to look at him. It took a long time. “What did they do now?”

A quick, nervous flash of hands. “Politics. You know. Always – always doing foolish things when they’re worried, and – and I know they’ll…come round. Humans always…always surprise you in the end.”

“And not always in a good way.”

Aziraphale cringed back at those words. Must be bad. Crowley sighed and threw back the side of his duvet, sliding over to make room.

The angel stared at him, uncomprehending.

“Well? Hurry it up, I’m getting cold.”

With a heavy thud, Aziraphale dropped onto the mattress and moved close to Crowley, right into the curve of his arm, right up against his side. Crowley quickly tucked the blanket around them, then pulled Aziraphale closer, head resting on his chest. Soft, shaking fingers clutched at the front of his black shirt.

“Hey. Shhhh. S’alright. Whatever it is, it’s gonna be alright. We’ll get through this. Humanity will get through this. They always do.”

“But not before – so many people – get hurt.” His voice was thick now, on the edge of breaking. “I can’t just…stop caring, Crowley!”

Neither can I. Big failing in a demon, that. To look at the suffering of mortals, the pain they inflicted on each other, and feel it, down in the parts of him that were supposed to be atrophied and gone. Easier to sleep it off, because at least then he didn’t need to feel it.

“No one’s asking you to, Aziraphale.” He rubbed his angel’s arm, holding on tight. “No one will ever ask that of you again.”

“I wish…I could help…”

“I know. But we agreed. No more interfering. They have to figure these things out for themselves.”

“I hate it.” His voice was just a trembling whisper. “I hate this so much.”

“Here.” Crowley tugged at Aziraphale, shifted him, until the angel’s legs stretched across his lap, until Aziraphale was properly curled against his chest. “That’s better. You stay close, yeah?” He swayed, rocking Aziraphale as he held him. “Just stay close.”

“I – I know I’m…the hopeful one. I’ve been trying…so hard…to bring just…just a little cheer to London, to Soho. Keep up the spirits.”

“Yeah. Pastries for burglars. Nice little charity you got there.”

“It was a bit more than that!” A high-pitched noise. “But…I don’t think…I can…”

“Shhhh. S’fine. You’ll be fine.” Crowley pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s forehead. “Let me be the optimistic one for a few hours. You rest. It’s your turn.”

“I really don’t…that’s not how it works.”

“S’our side, Angel.” He shook out his wings, wrapping them around Aziraphale. Privacy. Warmth. Darkness. Everything he had to offer in the ring of his arms. He pressed another kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. “Our side. Means whatever we want it to.”

Slowly, Aziraphale closed his eyes sinking against Crowley, nestling into his dark feathers. “Don’t think I can sleep.”

“Don’t sleep, then. Just rest. Breathe. Get your strength up. They’ll probably need you again soon.”

A small smile crept across the curve of his cheek. “I thought we weren’t interfering?”

“Welllll, I know a certain bastard who never follows the rules.” Crowley rested his cheek in Aziraphale’s soft white curls. “The world can get on without you for a day. Just rest. I got you.”

#good omens fanfiction #good omens prime #emotional h/c #bed cuddles #anxious aziraphale #soft crowley #we all need a hug today #My writing

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morning-might-arrive · 3 years

Text

Apparently the monster high fandom is rising from the grave again, so in celebration I wrote this instead of sleeping. I will be finishing it soon. Feedback is much appreciated! A series of misunderstandings involving a limousine and Spectra’s blog lead Jackson to the realization that he has way more friends than he thought.

Monday

It was 12:06 in the afternoon when Jackson Jekyll ascended the steps of Monster High. If he was quick enough, he could at least be on time for 5th period. He took his seat in Mr. Rotter’s AP contemporary literature class just as the bell rang and pulled out his class copy of 1984. The stoic teacher gave him a nod of recognition. A few minutes into the lecture, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“You were not in creepateria this morning.” Abbey stated in her usual matter-of-fact tone.

“Yeah,” Winona added, “Ghoulia wanted to show you the new Fastpoint comic she got. She seemed really bummed you weren’t there. I can’t wait for you to read it though. It retcons the whole DeathCap Comics universe back to the way it was before the reboot. There was even-”

“Where were you, anyway?” Howleen hastily changed the subject.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. We were at the doctor’s office. Something kinda came up unexpectedly.” Jackson replied, turning to face them. This caught the attention of Rochelle. She looked up from her book.

“Doctor? Is everything alright?” Concern dripped from her voice and Jackson instantly felt guilty.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. We’re in a little bit of pain, but…” Jackson’s eyes both glanced upward towards his helix piercing as he spoke.”It won’t be a problem for much longer.” The four ghouls glanced at each other suspiciously and then back towards Jackson. Abbey opened her mouth to challenge his last statement.

“Ladies! Mr. Jekyll! Do not make me have to separate you!” Mr. Rotter’s stern voice boomed from the front of the room. Jackson muttered a meek apology and turned back to his book, his ghoulfriends quickly following suit. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

40 uneventful minutes went by and then finally the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. “Don’t forget to read the next chapter!” Mr. Rotter yelled to his students, but most of them were too far away to hear. Jackson dashed to his locker and quickly called his human friend Chad.

“Hey! I just got back from the doctor’s office. Yeah, she told me to just take some Advil and just let it run its course.” unbeknownst to him, resident blogger Spectra Vonderguist was perusing the hallways looking for her next story.

“Completely done for, they said. Apparently there’s nothing they can do.”

Spectra perked up at those words. She quickly pulled out her iCoffin and hid a few lockers down from Jackson’s.

“It’s true. We don’t have much time left.”

Spectra gasped and quickly snapped a photo of the scene in front of her. Did he say he was running out of time as in...death? Having always been a ghost, Spectra didn’t know a lot about death other than that it was something that happened to humans and to some breeds of monster. Even so, Jackson seemed a little early in his life to be experiencing it. In moments like these she really regretted snooping around in other people’s business, but she definitely had her blog post.

Tuesday

At 8:35 that morning, every phone in Monster High sounded at once as The Ghostly Gossip was updated. Conversations were halted and hallway traffic came to a standstill as several students stopped to check their phones.

Normie’s days are numbered?

Yesterday, sources caught a phone conversation of one Jackson Jekyll in which he confessed to being told by a doctor that he didn’t have much time left on earth. This story is still developing, and more details will be reported as they come in.

Deuce Gorgon’s eyes scanned the short article again. “Dude.” Was all he could come up with after a couple of minutes. “What?” Asked Clawd Wolf as he approached his best friend. Deuce handed over his phone.

“Dude!” Clawd exclaimed. “If this is someone’s idea of a joke, it isn’t very funny.”

“I know.” Deuce replied in a stern tone that contrasted with his usual jovial one. “Maybe the ghouls know something about this.”

Clawd nodded and quickly scanned the hallway. Frankie, Cleo, Clawdeen, and Draculara were all crowded around Frankie’s locker. They were looking over Cleo’s shoulder at something on her phone and talking to one another in a hushed whisper. The boys headed toward the group.

“Hey, did you ghouls see that weird blog post?’ Deuce asked the group.

“Uh, yeah,” Cleo responded. “Why would Spectra post such a far-fetched tale? And expect anyone to believe it?”

“But why would she post something like this if it wasn’t true?” Clawdeen asked. “You know how seriously that ghoul takes her blog.”

“C’mon guys,” Frankie cut in. “Spectra’s gotten a story twisted around before, remember?”

“But-” Draculara started.

“But nothing.” All eyes turned towards a fast-approaching Heath Burns, flanked by Abbey and Ghoulia. “Look, if my cousins were dying, I would know about it. That ghost writer has lost her spark.”

“Am not so sure.” Abbey responded, giving Heath the side eye. “He was acting very strange yesterday. Said he did go to see doctor.”

Draculara burst suddenly into tears, clinging to Clawd and Clawdeen. “But that means we’re gonna lose Jackson and Holt-” the rest of her sentence was cut off by sobbing.

“There there, sweetie,” Clawdeen whispered, handing her best friend a tissue. “That does it. We have to put this whole thing to rest right now.

“Yes,” Abbey agreed. “We go ask Jackson.”

“Well we can’t just tell him we know,” Cleo insisted. “What are you even going to say? ‘Oh, by the way, Spectra eavesdropped on your private conversation yesterday and now there’s a story posted on the internet about you for the whole school to read, so can you tell us if it’s true?’ He’ll be mortified.”

Frankie stared at her. “That’s actually a pretty good point. Okay, we’ll meet in the library during lunch to find what we can about human death, so we at least know what we’re looking for. Sound like a plan?” The group collectively nodded. “Good. I’ll see you there.”

At 11:30 that morning, the group re-convened in the dusty confines of the Monster High library. Ghoulia moaned as she typed away at the computer in front of her.

“Ghoulia says that when a human dies, they’re put into a box that is measured especially for them. The box is then put into a long black car to a place where it can be buried in the ground. It’s customary for the person’s box to be decorated with flowers, and then their family and friends are invited to a gathering to watch them be buried.” Frankie translated.

“Like some sort of going away party?” Clawdeen asked. “I’m glad i’m not a human. That’s pretty morbid.”

“But that proves it!” Heath exclaimed. “I’m Jackson’s family so if he were dying, I would definitely be invited to the going away party and so would my parents. This whole story is bogus.”

The other students weren't so sure yet, but they all let the subject drop for now.

At 2:56, the music stopped. Jackson blinked, suddenly aware of his surroundings. The sun beamed down and burned his eyes, and he quickly had to side step to avoid being trampled by the massive herd of students walking behind him. He’d apparently stopped in his tracks in the middle of the front walkway of the school. He looked down and discovered the cause of this to be his dead iCoffin. He plugged his phone into his portable charger and it blinked back to life. Underneath the time display was a message from Holt.

“You got any idea why D-low hugged me holding back tears this mornin? Did I miss somethin?” Jackson opened his phone to respond

“Um, no? I don’t think so. Did she say what was wrong?” He left it for Holt to find later and put his phone back in his bag. Not a moment passed before it began buzzing with a call from his dad.

“So anyway, I was all like ‘dude’ and she was all like-” Draculara recounted the events of the day and was suddenly cut off by her best friend Clawdeen, who pushed her back behind the doors to the school, pointing in Jackson’s direction.

“You’re going to pick us up right?” Jackson asked into the phone.

“Okay. Yeah, we spoke to the florist yesterday. We picked out this really cool arrangement of Forget-Me-Nots. Pretty appropriate for the occasion, right?”

The two ghouls in hiding glanced at each other. “Do you remember what Frankie said? About humans getting flowers when they’re-”

“SHH!” the two turned their attention back to the human in question.

“Yeah, I know. Moms will be devastated. They said they won’t be back until 11 or 12 that night, and we’ll definitely be gone by then. But we’ll be sure to take a lot of pictures before we go!” He continued to the person on the other end. “Okay, see you in a few minutes.”

The girls gasped as Jackson put his phone away. Clawdeen pulled out her phone and pulled up the group chat. They had to tell everyone what they had just heard.

#monster high #jackson jekyll #holt hyde #frankie #clawdeen #draculara #duece gorgon #abbey bomidable #Jackson and Holt use We instead of I #this is a hill i will die on

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elriel-oblivion · 3 years

Text

So it's been four days so here's part two 😁 Just wanted to say a huge thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented/reblogged the last part! It was such an amazing response, especially given it was my first time posting my writing here, so thanks for all the love you shared 🥰🥰

Heads up, this part is actually part one from Elain's pov. Initially I wanted to continue from where the last part left off in Elain's pov, but as I was writing the background, I realised I'd written too much to just skip when Az gets to the estate and cut straight into a continuation of part one, so I ended up rewriting the whole thing in her view. So there's no new elriel moments, but you'll get a lot of new stuff anyway 😅 I would've said you don't have to read this part to understand part three, but when I was rereading the later parts a few hours ago, I realised there's some stuff that alludes to things in this part, so I strongly recommend you don't skip this 😅😅

Also, wow, some of my fave paragraphs I've ever written are in this part 😁 Bonus points if you can find them; there are four I'm thinking of in particular 😉

Word count: ~ 3.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed 😊 Next part up in two or three days 😊

AO3

Ashes from the Deep

Part II

It had been a pretty uneventful day as Elain worked through her new plant textbook. Feyre and Rhysand had decided to spend the weekend away at the mountain cabin, Cassian and Nesta were away doing things she wished not to think of, and Mor was at the Winter Court.

Amren had only been round in the mornings, probably to check Elain was still alive. She'd glance round the living room, examine some of those fine crystal glasses in the display cabinet and then leave. There was no difference today, though Elain always felt Amren's scrutiny upon her even when that muted silver gaze was directed elsewhere; perusing Rhys' wine collection had become a tired ruse.

So besides preparing and taking her meals with Nuala and Cerridwen, Elain had spent her afternoon with her book, making notes and copying drawings. The twins had gone off on some errands, so she'd wandered into the garden at some point to tend to her many plants, telling them how lovely they each were. The crocuses looked particularly stunning this autumn day, their pale violet colour breathing life into the shades beneath some of the trees.

With her book, she'd identified new weeds, digging into the soil to rip some pesky ones out. Sometimes she didn't want the help of a tool; sometimes she needed to feel those roots on her bare skin.

Harvesting the carrots and beetroot was also on the agenda today, along with seeding for some spectacular displays next year. She'd been collecting the seeds from some of her summer blooms, like those soft clouds of baby's breath, saving them to replant. These she sowed directly into ground she'd prepared days before, her fingers digging into the crumbly clumps of earth.

Autumn onions she'd plant tomorrow, perhaps. Feyre always remarked on how their strong taste complimented meats well, so Elain wanted to harvest some fresh for her sister for once. It'd take a few months of waiting, but there was little else better than picking out and eating food one had grown with their bare hands and the essential ingredients of love and care.

Setting her book on the patio table, Elain surveyed the garden. It was a good day's work. Plants watered and sown, weeds uprooted, and hands sweaty and soiled, Elain was proud of what she'd achieved today. There were no distractions, nothing to take her from the one thing she always found satisfaction in.

After a long shower, she found herself back in the garden with a cup of tea and a blanket. The sunset washed the sky in a blaze of red and orange glory before it yielded to the cool tones of twilight then night. Elain sat in silence, hands wrapped around her mug. How long would it be until someone's arms were wrapped around her, until she felt the warmth her sisters finally had?

Silly, these thoughts. Immortality stretched far ahead, there would be time to develop that companionship. Months and years were but a heartbeat in the life of a High Fae. She wouldn't even notice the years pass.

Or so everybody else kept saying.

With her tea finished, she perused the book of recipes she'd borrowed from Nuala. Some recipes jumped out, ingredients for which she'd been growing for a few months now. Pumpkin pie sounded especially delightful, the gourd having almost darkened and hardened to ripe quality just a couple days ago. They should be ready for harvest tomorrow.

A chill wind sent Elain inside to prepare and have her dinner in pleasant silence. Even her mind was quiet tonight. After washing her dishes, she stood by a bay window, fingers idly tapping the windowsill.

Faelights bobbed like tiny lamps, dotted through the garden. The full moon was now high in the sky, its ghostly glow illuminating the datura flowers she'd seeded half a year ago. She pulled on her blanket and went out again for a better look at those gorgeous blooms, the petals opening only at night.

Elain couldn't be happier she'd found seeds of a triple-flowered variety. They'd grown to produce large trumpets, three layers of petals ruffled against each other. Somehow she thought of her sisters as she crouched and stared at the flowers, each layer so similar, yet fighting for space and breath as it unfurled before another. It was only when they were all fully open that they could sigh along the night breeze as one, an ethereal song of togetherness, tinged with notes of poignancy, only heard by those with the will to look deeper.

The white petals were stained with velvet violet, a true vision in her garden. While the others had given her passing compliments on the flowers, Azriel had seemed stunned the first time he saw them, citing them his favourite of all the plants Elain had grown so far. Something about their shape and contrasting colours, he'd mentioned.

She smiled fondly at the memory, where his eyes sparkled as he reached for one of the soft petals.

Her hand lashed out to grab his wrist. 'Don't touch them; the leaves and stems are highly poisonous.'

His brows rose. 'You wouldn't think that at first sight. But they're beautiful, Elain. Truly magnificent,' he said, his smooth voice so low, a voice that was night given sound. And how befitting, as even those datura flowers seemed enraptured by his presence, one shy petal finally unfurling towards him.

She beamed at him. 'They like you. Flowers like it when you talk to and compliment them - but these ones haven't given me the same reaction as they have to you. I think they really like you, Azriel.'

His answering smile was heartbreakingly tender.

A few more seconds passed before she realised she still held his wrist. She silently let go.

It was a shame she'd have to dig out the datura shrub and move it inside for the winter; it did look magnificent in the moonlight.

The sky shifted past its midnight velvet, and still Elain crouched, admiring the flowers. She shivered in the night's chill. The stars above twinkled and glistened, cold and distant as ever, yet stunning - infinitely more striking than they'd ever been when she was human. A thousand different colours sparkled in that vast expanse, the moon a phosphorescent queen in the centre of her court.

The Night Court truly lived up to its name in the wee hours of the day. Its opulence never failed to mesmerise her; the enhanced Fae eyesight was at least one thing she was grateful for from this body.

Her eyelids became heavy and she yawned. Why was she still out here? It was late into the night; she should be in bed by now. But the night was so beautiful and it was so quiet and she wanted to appreciate it all just once. Just once without the expectations of others, without having to wear that miserable smile all the time.

Of course, it didn't look miserable, which is probably why almost nobody ever bothered to look deeper into Elain. She should be used to it by now, but it still felt - wrong. That most overlooked her so long as she wore a smile. That most didn't think her capable of feeling the utter bitterness and loneliness she had once seen so plain on her sisters' faces.

And in acknowledgement of her sisters' hardships, Elain didn't fault them for not looking, for not seeing her. To see past the thick blanket of darkness in one's own mind was a trial in itself. But it had been years since the war now. And still they didn't notice.

They didn't notice that Elain was being shredded from the inside out.

It was almost laughable. But not funny enough.

No, it was not funny that people still treated Elain like a child, that people wanted to keep Elain in some weird impasse of a stage between child and adult. She'd thought finally carrying out her duty and giving her hand in marriage would show everyone that she was growing up: Elain Archeron, middle born but first married. Of course it was still on her own terms, to a man whom she'd loved. A man who'd seen her through the rubble of her family's lives. But she'd overall hoped doing what was expected of her would be enough.

Clearly not. She didn't even know who she was any more. Did she ever? Everything she'd once yearned for, gone. That fragile human life would soon be just a speck on the horizon of her past.

She sighed. Rebuilding herself was going to take a long time.

But what would she have to do for people to see her, to listen to her? Throw a rage? Fall into a drunken stupor and break a few dozen bottles?

She definitely could, but those were not her. She was Elain Archeron. And so she would wait. Patience wasn't a bad thing at all; she saw it on the shadowsinger's face all the time, that tranquility and calmness she so wished to feel inside.

Azriel. Her heart softened as he entered her mind again, and she dug her fingers into the soil, if only to occupy her fidgety hands. As sure as the chaos of her visions these days, there was a mess of butterflies related to him she wasn't willing to show. Or understand.

Elain and the spymaster? Now that was laughable. Truly laughable. He was wise and patient, while she - well, everyone already thought her a child, and though he listened like no other around her, surely even he couldn't glimpse the adult she so desperately wanted everyone to see.

No, it was foolish to entertain the idea of a relationship with him. No matter how much he saw.

No matter that he was the first to see her since Graysen.

Elain exhaled. She stifled another yawn, smoothing out the soil, then brushed her hands clean. She wrapped the blanket closer around herself and stood. Twinkling stars and velvety darkness and -

There, a knot of shadows materialising at the far edge of the garden, collecting and swirling into a larger mass before Azriel himself stepped out and sagged against a tree. His shadows whirled and obscured him, a dark fire with him burning at the core.

Elain's voice left her throat before she even thought to call him and she ran over to his figure slumped in the dimness.

She couldn't help but say his name again as she neared. 'Azriel!'

Those beautiful hands fiddled with a Siphon, but he looked even worse up close. Fatigue dragged at his body, a second weight to all the muscle and armour he already had to carry. Sweat and dirt clung to him, his hair. At least the shadows were parting, swallowing each other and misting away as they often did around her. Perhaps she should ask someday why they did that. But not today, not when his breathing was so laboured.

She raised a hand - to do what, she had no idea. She couldn't just touch him right now. 'You don't look okay.'

Something else limned his features as he huffed a light laugh and said, 'I'm fine, don't worry.' His voice was raw, so starkly different to its usual icy smoothness. It was common for him to guard his emotions, but in his state, this kind of thinking was just unhealthy. What would it take for him to be honest with her?

'You don't have to pretend with me, Azriel,' she said, lowering her hand. She studied the ground, embarrassed that she'd come up to him. What could she even offer in her pathetic childlike state when he was so clearly affected by his mission right now?

His hand rose. Her heart faltered, she had to do something, and she blurted, 'Can I wash your hair, please?'

His eyes widened, his entire composure crumbling. It wasn't often that the shadowsinger looked startled, but Elain was far too shy to show that she quite liked the effect her question had on him.

'You want to wash my hair?'

His face was so exquisite, it hurt to look at it. His eyes would be even worse; it wouldn't be the first time she was rendered speechless by their kind gaze. A myriad of colours swirled in their glistening depths - gorgeous greens and brilliant browns, all so natural and rich, if only she could look at them long enough to find their matches in the garden around her. Though, his eyes were an entire spectrum of colour in their own right. How would she ever pick out each and every shade?

And if she somehow did have the courage to meet his eyes now, what would she see of herself in their reflection?

A lovesick puppy? A doe-eyed, fearful fawn?

No, she didn't want to know.

So she swallowed and focused on his hair. Perhaps this Fae eyesight was a curse, for even his hair was shockingly fascinating. Only flat black from a distance, the faelights bobbing about the trees highlighted layer upon layer of silky raven locks up close. His hair was so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light. Mud stained one side of his head, and it was an effort to keep her hands from brushing it away, so she said, 'I'm positive that's mud and you shouldn't sleep with that in your hair. It'll only take a few minutes.'

He ran a hand through his hair, clumps of dirt falling out.

'You've managed to get some on your face, too.' There were light specks of mud and blood across his face, a more noticeable patch along his cheekbone, thrown into sharper relief by the faelights and his own weariness. Was that a cut beneath the patch? And another on his temple?

She leashed her arms.

What had happened? He wore the signs of a fight, but why would he come here when he knew Elain was the only one home?

His eyes bored into her face, but she refused to meet them. He seemed to lean forward then, stumbling.

Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous that he wouldn't even acknowledge he was in need. Azriel rarely stumbled. Any fatigue Elain had felt just a while ago was now burrowing down a little longer. Her voice was firm when she spoke. 'I'm washing your hair. It'll help relax you into falling asleep.'

His brows rose, but if Elain stood there one more moment she wouldn't have the courage to do anything for him. For herself - she could take care of someone else. She could do for Azriel what she hadn't done for Feyre all those years as a human.

And for Azriel, she could tend to the male who'd provided her with comfort and safety in this world of distress and danger.

So she pulled him along, clenching her jaw and refusing to look back. Her heart hammered in her chest but she continued, hand wrapped round his armoured arm. Her hand slid down to his wrist but just as she was about to replace her grip, he grabbed her other hand and pulled her into him.

The shadows instantly began to ensconce them, dozens of those cool tendrils twining like vines. The estate loomed huge before them, and Elain gripped Azriel's hand tighter.

'My bathroom,' she said. Beneath the low whisper of those shadows, her blood thrummed, her heart so painfully obvious against her ribs now. It would be a wonder if the spymaster wasn't aware of it. Though she did hear another flutter above, right by her ear. But as expected, the shadows made quick work of their journey and she didn't have the chance to dwell on it further.

Now out of the comfort of Azriel's hold, Elain set down her blanket and made to grab a chair from her bedroom. His dark presence was so overwhelming that she exhaled lightly as she entered the room and took the chair. She dragged it to the sink, avoiding his gaze, and pulled a towel, soap and a large jug from the cupboard by the door.

As she settled the soap and jug on the sink, she dared a glance at him. He was still clad in full armour, those black scales gleaming like obsidian over his skin, his Siphons glistening jewels across his body. 'I think you'll have to collapse your armour for this,' she said.

He inclined his head and tapped a Siphon, those scales lashing back into each other with cruel elegance. They were a mirror of their master: cold, controlled and unyielding, forged from scintillating darkness. He was a night sky riddled with stars; light existed if only one bothered to look for it.

Azriel's great wings righted themselves as he stood straight, now looking smaller in just his black tunic and trousers. Something about him seemed vulnerable without the armour, so Elain breathed, 'It's beautiful, all of it.' The hulking armour, the classic simplicity of the tunic and trousers, and the male who wore them all.

He was just so wonderful, Azriel. An enigma that could see her own. Her heart clenched.

Azriel rustled his wings, colour blossoming on his cheeks.

Elain blinked and pulled the chair out a little. 'Please sit.' As he sunk down, she rested the towel on his shoulders, hovering her fingers above his forehead. Her body tensed and her fingers remained suspended. It was like a spark of tension flickered in the space between their skin, teasing her, tempting her, taunting her.

After all, she'd offered to wash his hair, an act that would certainly require touching. But why was she so hesitant? She'd touched him before - kissed his cheek, even. Although that had been in the heat of adrenaline, a mark of her gratitude where a simple thank you wouldn't suffice, not for risking his own life for hers.

This was - what was this?

She finally lowered her fingers through that tense spark, pushing his head back against the sink. It was exhilarating, this contact, but he lowered his wings, shifting on the seat. Elain moved into the space he gave, turning on the tap as he went still. Just as her body was taut, taut as the skin of a drum.

She checked the water. Warm. It was time to start.

Azriel was looking up at her. Something like yearning swirled in his eyes.

He looked so tired. It made her heart ache.

'You can close your eyes,' Elain whispered. And he did.

___

Feedback's welcomed; thanks for reading 😊

If anyone wants to know what the datura flowers look like, CTTO:

@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17

#elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #elriel #acotar

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tracybirds · 3 years

Text

I can officially switch the status of Being Known from “stuck” to “WIP” again :) It’s been over a year since the last update for various reasons but I’m very excited to go back to this one and provide a new chapter!

For those new to the story, this was prompted by @kenzie-running-free in March 2020 and slightly got out of hand 😅 I’ve never stopped thinking about it and I bit the bullet and deleted the entirety of Chapter Four a few days ago and let myself rewrite it from scratch.... and it WORKED!!! (use technique with caution... scariest thing I’ve ever done.....)

Anyway...

A ‘what-if’ story based on “The Man From TB5” where the Hood recognized John in the scene when he makes himself known (instead of John stuttering).... and then he gets kidnapped :)

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3]

-----------

Darkness bled into John’s line of vision and he scrubbed desperately at his aching eyes. Time collapsed around him as he worked, the abruptly extinguished bulb the only hint of night. And every new day seemed to bring new weariness as he jolted awake by the sudden onslaught of light which interrupted the deepest part of sleep.

Just another tactic to keep him from gathering his wits together.

This morning, if it was morning, the brightly burning bulb was coupled with the scraping sound of a breakfast tray being shoved through the small slot that had been crudely and hastily carved in the door after he’d lain in wait and brought the tray down over one of the guard’s head. He’d left the man stunned on the floor and made it all the way to the end of the corridor before another guard had grabbed him from behind and thrown him bodily back into the room.

He’d woken to security footage of a fire ravaging a building, his own family on screen.

“They’re not looking for you,” sneered the Hood as he swept from the room.

No guards came in anymore.

Two days later, he’d been savagely poked in the eye when he’d tried to look through the new slot that had been hastily added to his door.

He spent hours every day, searching for a way to send out a message, or even create another receiver. Any link to the outside world would do. But it soon became apparent that the Hood had done one thing right in giving him access to an isolated system, keeping the holomonitor he’d been provided with separate even from his own devices.

One thing right among many.

John peered at the screen with his good eye, wincing at the torn skin that pulled over bruised muscle. His head spun as he stared at the endless commands, trying to replicate the spark of life no-one had ever found before EOS.

Not even him.

And that was the rub of it all.

John didn’t know, not after all his time studying EOS and her abilities, just how she’d been born of code and logical absolutes. How she could grow and change and evaluate her own mind in a way that not only seemed human, but was unquestionably so.

He glanced at the clock he’d created from scratch, counting the oscillations in the electrical current and spitting back a digital time at him. This ‘morning’ truly did correspond with the morning, and that meant the Hood would be paying him a visit for an update.

He wasn’t sure how much more time he could stall for until things got truly desperate.

How much time he had until he had to conclude that he was truly on his own.

* * *

“Scott, the floor’s unstable there!”

“I know what I’m doing, Alan.”

“Yes, but I have the numbers,” Alan replied, his voice cracking as he spoke. He spun the holo in his hands, checking and double checking the analysis that was running under his fingertips.

“Then the numbers are wrong.”

“They can’t be!”

“Alan,” said Scott, patiently. “I need you to check the parameters over again. I’m seeing two trapped vehicles, with no sign of ground stress, both much larger than me and more importantly containing passengers. I need to get them out of there.”

“Yes, but hang on–”

“There’s no time!”

Alan watched in horror as his big brother barrelled forwards. He crouched low as he ran, grabbing at nearby pylons for support. The ground heaved beneath his feet, but still Scott moved forwards steady and sure. Always with his eyes on the scared little boy in the back seat and a gentle smile on his face.

An alert ticked over into the red.

“Jump, Scott!” he yelled, watching the model floor cave in a split second before a real sinkhole opened beneath Scott’s feet.

“Alan, what’s happening up there?” came Virgil’s urgent voice, bound for home with Gordon from their own rescue.

Alan flipped the channel, realising in his hurry he’d accidentally broadcast his message to everyone.

“He’s fine,” he said, eyes still wide as he watched Scott shakily stand on the other side of the chasm. “The floor went.”

“What?”

“He’s fine, he’s fine!”

“Didn’t you run the simulation?”

“I did,” said Alan, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “He wouldn’t listen.”

Silence fell over the space station.

“Hey Alan, can you pilot Thunderbird One over to us? Got my hands full here.”

Scott’s voice rang out loud and clear. Five clear thermal images were standing around him, including one in his arms.

Alan fumbled for the call button.

“F.A.B. Scott.”

“I’ll talk to him, Alan,” said Virgil. His eyes were focused beyond him, but Alan could read the quiet fury beneath the clear focus on his own piloting.

“I can’t do it, Virgil,” whispered Alan. “I must have done something wrong, there must have been something he could see that I couldn’t.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” interrupted Virgil.

“He never would have done this to…”

Alan’s voice failed him.

Twenty-two thousand miles below, Virgil choked back his own distress. Gordon was chewing at his lip, staring anxiously at Alan. He leaned forward so he was in view of the holo.

“Hey, Allie,” he said. “John’s gonna be okay. And he’ll be giving Scott hell for ignoring the modelling like that soon enough.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Absolutely, I do,” said Gordon, cracking a grin. “No way, John would let Scott get away with that crap. Not even if he had to haunt him for the rest of his life in ghostly fury to do it.”

“Is he wrapping up now?” asked Virgil, eyes still pinched.

Alan looked down at the display.

“Yeah, he’s on his way home.”

“Right. EOS?”

“Virgil?” Her quiet voice was sullen and more than a little distracted.

“Got room in your processors for another task?”

EOS’s lights flashed suddenly, and Alan’s blood ran cold at the sight. Three weeks he’d been stationed on board Thunderbird Five and he still found himself walking on eggshells around EOS. Her frustration at turning up nothing in the holonet that could lead them closer to John morphed quickly from long, silent sulks to short outbursts of flying bagels and spinning gravity rings. He’d never forgotten the sight of John floating limply like a rag doll that had been torn apart one too many times by a playful, thoughtless, destructive child.

An angry EOS felt too close to losing his brother for good.

“Will it help, John?”

“It’ll keep his brother alive, and that will make it more likely for us to find him.”

“What can I do?”

“Lock Scott out of his controls, Order TB2-5711FR. Make sure Alan gets to Tracy Island before him. Redirect all calls to local authorities in the first instance, follow Protocol 24.”

“I’m not leaving,” argued Alan. “Don’t pull me from duty, I can do better.”

“No arguments.”

Alan wilted, knowing he had no choice but to follow Virgil’s instructions.

“This is done, Virgil,” said EOS, blankly.

“Thank you, EOS,” said Virgil, his manner still stiff and terse. He shifted his gaze from the open ocean in front of him to Alan, his expression softening. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Alan. If Scott takes his life into his own hands, that’s not on you. But we can’t have him in the field like that, cutting corners to get back to finding John. So, we need you down here in his place.”

“You can’t pull Scott,” said Alan, his eyes wide. “What would… well, what would Scott say?”

“We’re doing him a favour,” remarked Gordon with a sarcastic twist of his lips that made a mockery of his usual grin. “He wants to find John, we all do, but if he’s willing to risk lives and rescues to do it then he should put his energy into searching and we shouldn’t stop him.”

Alan swallowed, his eyes filling with tears that he angrily swiped away.

“Does he think we’re not looking just as hard?” he asked. “We haven’t forgotten him. Have we?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alan,” said Virgil, firmly. “John would have our heads before we put the possibility of finding him above the certainty of ignoring people who need our help.”

“So, we keep going out there,” agreed Gordon. “And when, when Allie, Kayo and Lady P and Parker find something, and they will, we’ll be right there without a moment to lose.”

“I just don’t want him to think we’ve forgotten him.”

“John’s too smart for that,” said Gordon. “Promise you, Allie.”

* * *

He’d worked it out. Every time he did something to anger the Hood, innocent people paid for it in blood. There was no point in harming him directly, not when what the Hood wanted was inside his mind, ripe for extraction. But his heart and spirit could be broken, as a video feed periodically forced itself over his work to make him watch. Earthquakes, landslides, tidal waves, anything that would get International Rescue on the scene and off his scent.

Senseless destruction and despair epidemic across the world because he couldn’t make an AI fast enough.

But senseless destruction that he could use.

There was no doubt in his mind that his family knew the natural disasters were anything but, he could see it in the determined fury in Scott’s face, in the tense draw of Virgil’s shoulders, in the sardonic mockery in Gordon’s smile as he quietly pocketed yet another piece of equipment.

He didn’t see Alan, and he thought of his baby brother up in space often. None of his brothers had any real idea of the full extent of his contribution, no matter how grateful they were for his guidance, and he hated to know Alan would be forced into that knowledge.

He also suspected that when Alan did spill the beans, he’d find his own rotations scrutinised with a lot more care.

Still, the limited glimpses of his brothers did nothing to discourage him, and he found himself contemplating a plan of escape well into the long, cold nights.

He needed more information.

He needed access to an external holonet connection. And the only way he’d get near one was with a working AI.

Or something that could pass for a few minutes as one.

#john tracy #alan tracy #all the bros are there but these are our main perspectives today #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic #i need to update ao3 again don't i.....

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lorkai · 3 years

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🌺 Title: One More Life

🌺 Summary: There is no future without learning the mistakes of the past, but there is also no past without the hope of a better future. And to repair mistakes or to make things better, a child is dragged into a tragic history of coups d'état, deaths and re-concessions.

🌺 Words: 4096

🌺 Notes: Some may remember that I already posted this story here, but I decided to rewrite this chapter. Hope you like it.

🌺 Warnings: Mention of dismemberment, explicit death, gore. Please check the tags for more.

The closed clouds formed strange patterns over the faint sunlight that ended on the horizon, red and orange slowly disappearing, leaving behind a thin trail of snow. And despite the hours, the children ran over the lights of the lanterns that they carried in their small hands, without knowing what was close to happening. Their laughter would be remembered in young Morgana's mind for a long time. Everyone was happy, after all it was the Harvest Festival - affectionately nicknamed the Demon Race by the girl - it was the day when her Lord liked to send his little soldiers to face demons that he summoned to see how much they had evolved with their magic and spells, that always happened at the end of the night.

Morgana did not grow up in a good or happy place, but she had no choice but to follow what her Lord commanded. The organization he worked for was also not a good place if she remembered correctly, there were so many experiments going on, so much pain and cries of help echoing through those walls that would never come out of the young girl's head or anyone who heard them. It was terrifying.

And in the dark of the old empty hut, she sat. Chained at the ankles by a metal pillar. The dark did not frighten her any more than the task entrusted to her, hunting demons, killing them and bringing their hearts to her Lord. Morgana hated that time of year, hated the snow pulling her down and the cold so intense to freeze her bones, and on top of that she hated the magic that came out of her hands and the blood that spread through her fingers afterwards. She hated the throbbing of the organ in her hands and even more that sadistic smile on the face of the man who had taught her so much about magic. But she had no choice, not yet.

"Your folly is amazing, my dear." Said a well-known voice, making Morgana turn around. It took her eyes to get used to seeing something in the immense darkness that surrounded her, but when she finally found him she started to massage her temples in search of momentary relief. It was Toby, a small, transparent ghost who wore bloody rags of clothes that looked from the 1800s. He was, unfortunately, the girl's dead brother, now a ghost bound to accompany her.

"What would you have done?" She replied, showing her hands chained by heavy metal. She didn't want to have to deal with the ghost now.

"I sure as hell wouldn't be pretending to be a good girl, waiting for someone to give me an order. Morg, you must take the chance to escape. They plan to summon a strong demon this time... What was the name again? Diavovo? Dialovo?" Toby yelled, crossing his arms. He floated to the other end of the cell, tossing a thick, old black leather book from hand to hand. And contrary to his angry tone, the ghost seemed calm, stopping beside his sister to hand her the book. "Whatever! You know the Demon Race is the closest thing you have to an opportunity to escape."

"Patience, my dear. I can't rush the sand into the hourglass any more than it can." She said, mysterious. Her fingers traced the pattern of unfamiliar letters and she smiled, feeling the strong magic so familiar that emanated from that Grimoire. The book that belonged to each of her brothers was hers now and she asked that it be useful in her journey. "Can't run away now, brother. This isn't the time. Also, you know what B would say."

"I don't care what that traitor has to say to me! He wasn't there when you or our brothers begged for help, he isn't here now to save you." the ghost grunted grudgingly and crossed his arms over his chest, seeming to adopt a defensive posture. "I insist you use this to escape, there's a very useful spell here. Take a look."

Morgana looked. It was the old book that passed from sibling to sibling in her family, but she never read it and didn't even know her secrets. Its pages were old and fragile, yellowed, she analyzed the strange letters forming strange words – it was an unknown language that was written there, but little by little the words moved and began to form sentences that the girl knew and understood. Spells appeared over the pages and she let out a big sigh this time, one of relief. Toby moved closer to her. "There are some spells you won't understand, Lothos made sure the younger ones wouldn't understand. So I can translate what you don't understand." The ghostly fingers roamed the pages with great nostalgia as he read her the simplest spells, almost overjoyed that she couldn't read in the dark.

And she was looking at him even through the dim light from a lantern, but it pained her to nurture his hopes when she herself knew she might die at any moment. She wasn't going to run away from Cosmos, no, she was going to destroy them inside and save those who could be saved. The emotion she felt at the moment couldn't be explained, she was happy to have him around and hear his voice, but she didn't feel his touch, his heat. Anyway, that moment was almost enough to make her forget what was going to happen within the next few minutes. There was a noise that disconcerted her and made her close the book with a bang, she quickly stuffed it into the pocket of the dress she was wearing. And she waited.

She looked at the figure standing over the wooden door, the light shining over his head as he chuckled softly. Then she noticed that he was shaking the human head of a child much younger than she was, and his red eyes glowed with excitement, watching the blood trickle across the floor of the cell. "He deserved it, he was making so much noise when I whipped him. But I like to think of it as his good luck gift." He threw his head towards the girl, falling to her feet. The child's transparent eyes stared at her, hot blood running in abundance over her legs and onto the floor. A horrendous image. She tried to move away but the chains stopped her.

"Too bad. His voice was so beautiful when he screamed." He commented and removed a cork of keys from his pocket, walking very calmly towards his expressionless pupil. He seemed to root for her to cry, for her to scream so he could punish her, but that didn't happen. He released her from the chains slowly as the blood on his hands smeared her and made her shiver even more, he pulled back far enough so that she could get up and seemed to find the sounds of bones cracking amusing. "Project K is almost perfected, so no failures will be tolerated. Stay still."

Morgana pressed one hand against the other, bracing herself. He handed her a red pill and watched as she swallowed without question. The burning sensation that engulfed her body was almost unbearable, causing her to fall to her knees and bring her hand to her throat. And anger filled her as her lord laughed to the point of being in tears. The pill he handed her must have been an improved version of the drug they were creating, she felt like she was being ripped from the inside out and blood leaked from her mouth as her vision glowed. Everything about her body ached, Toby and His lord went out and into focus. His voices mingled in her head as she vomited more blood.

"There, there." Her lord pulled her to her feet, using a spell to stop the bleeding. He patted her head lovingly as he smiled and she leaned closer to the contact, albeit involuntarily. His gestures didn't match what he was saying at all, but it took her a few more moments to process that. "It's going to be alright honey so don't let us down. I know you can do it, now go." He gently guided her out of the hut and closed the door slowly. A barrier was erected as soon as the girl was thrown out, to protect him. And she heard him laugh. Maybe he imagined all the bodies he would have on his worktable in the morning. Perhaps he had imagined a morbid joke. She didn't want to know.

"Are you okay?" Toby questioned. "Do you feel pain anywhere?"

"I am fine, brother." She analyzed the landscape around them. Shady trees, whose roots were hidden by snow, rose so high that their leaves and branches almost completely obscured the dim moonlight. This was a perfect place for demons to come to hide waiting for a meal, a subtle black trail of sulfur could be discerned through the tree branches. The smell also did not hide that there were demons there. She looked up at her brother, stifling a moan of pain as she smiled so as not to worry him. "Where are we going?"

"Demons everywhere. Three of them are northwest, seventy meters and they're strong. But there are two weaker ones you can kill easily, ten meters away. This way." Toby pointed, starting to follow a narrow path between some crooked trees, destroyed by the force of some demon. He heard Morgana walking behind him and her teeth gnashed so hard that he felt sorry for her, he couldn't feel the cold or heat anymore due to his condition, but he remembered now that she wasn't so lucky. The fine clothes she wore couldn't protect her from the incessant cold, that was a punishment and even she knew it. She had failed in her last mission, so it made sense to let her suffer her own luck. He knew she wouldn't survive like this and they had little time for it. Unfortunately she couldn't use any fire-based spells either because the scent would alert the demons.

Toby stopped his sister with a wave of his hand, gesturing to the pockets of her dress. "I almost forgot, but there's a spell in the Grimoire you can use to keep yourself warm. Let me show you."

"You know the cold can't kill me, even if it hurts" She warned him, giving a half laugh that was followed by several sneezes. Toby frowned as if he didn't quite believe his sister, signaling to himself as if he was setting an example. "Right, but that won't happen, brother."

"Enough stubbornness and give me the Grimoire. We have to be quick." Morgana let out a huff of indignation as she pulled the book out of her pockets and opened it, after glancing from side to side to make sure no one else was there. She created a sphere of light and illuminated the pages while a short wave of wind caused by the ghost opened the right page. He whispered the spell to her once, twice. Then she chanted it aloud and felt something warm run through her body, strengthening her. "Back to the subject... Use the Grimoire." He muttered looking directly at the book in her hands, with puppy eyes.

Morgana was preparing to give him an answer not as kind and patient as the others, but she was silent. She hid behind a tree when she heard a thin scream very close by. It had started. Really started. Limb by limb and the sound of flesh being ripped off was heard through the forest loud and clear, she covered her mouth with her hand so that no sound escaped her and signaled for the ghost to see what was happening.

"Looks like we found them, yay." Toby muttered grudgingly, his fingers making hollow sounds against the trees he touched. The feeling of running or fighting was never higher than when he approached some supernatural being, not that the ghost had seen more than other ghosts and lost souls, but he knew a thing or two. Finally he went to his sister, almost exasperated. "If you insist on following your role, the audience awaits your show, little star. They say they want to see his heart."

"If you insist." The girl whispered something in a low tone with her hands clasped together as if to pray and from the center of her hands flaming chains ripped the skin until they huddled together, moving of their own accord. Morgana was smiling. And she moved faster than Toby's eyes could see, like furious lightning. Toby ran to accompany her, without worry. He had seen a lot of that happen over the years. And it came as no surprise to him when he saw Morgana manipulating the chains and lifting the demon's body by one, two, three, four meters from the ground, hearing him scream when his arms and legs were broken, twisted at odd angles. Bones exposed on his skin. Black blood trickled over the snow as he screamed profanities.

"I really didn't want to do this." A deep, husky voice came from the girl's lips as she laughed, enjoying the smell of burning flesh. The chains slowly burned the entire demon's body, to the point that she would have ripped his heart out of his chest before he died. "But the grains of sand can only fall into the hourglass when it is time for them to fall."

"You are the disgusting witch that everyone talks about!" The demon screamed, blood dripping from his mouth. He struggled against the chains, but the more he struggled and screamed, the more the chains tightened.

"The only one but I think you don't like me that much, too bad." Morgana made a single movement that threw the demon on the ground and she approached him, pulling a red blade from her pocket that she would use to kill him. The demon tried to fight the chains, struggling, forcing its wings to work to get him out of there. But the girl kicked him in the face and commanded the chains to hold him more tightly. Toby flinched when he heard the sound of more bones being broken. "You had to be a low level one, it smells like sulfur. Shame on you, someone of your level would never be able to kill me." And then she sank the blade into the demon's chest. More blood flowed as she stabbed again and again, feeling it tremble beneath her small body, laughing when she saw life abandon the weak entity.

Toby yelled after her that he was dead, but she only stopped stabbing him when he was reduced to an unrecognizable mass of flesh. The white dress she wore was black, filled with demonic blood. She looked down at her hands with something akin to curiosity, then she looked down at the body and for a moment she couldn't make out anything that had happened there. "Fuck, this shit is scary every time. Morg, you...?"

"I'm fine, silly." She returned the chains back into her hands as she grunted in pain, the next moment her palms were intact as if they had never been injured. She got up quickly, muttering aggressively that she would have to find another demon now that she couldn't take the one she'd just killed, so she stepped away from the dead body and looked around. The sun wasn't even close to rising yet and she had plenty of time, but she also knew that failing couldn't be an option. Not this time. She has seen what happened to those who failed and it was something much worse than what happened to that demon at her feet. There were so many limbs and guts out of a body while her lord was using poisons and having fun, she didn't even need an anatomy book to tell the difference between a lung and a tibia. She wouldn't be next - between failing here and being next, she could freeze to death.

"You went into a trance again." Toby sighed, if he was alive he would probably be shaking. "Are you wondering about your next target?" Morgana nodded.

"Far away. About forty meters. But they are powerful." Toby tried to concentrate to find out something else, but he didn't have much to feel. They were powerful entities without a doubt, if they were strong to face the girl or not he did not know and did not want to know, he wanted her to run away. But there was only a little he could force her to do. The ghost watched as she seemed to consider whether she was going after them or not, but stopped walking before she could state her thoughts. There was a dismembered body in front of them. The head was tied to a tree as if it were a sinister pinata, a wide smile from cheek to cheek still frozen on the face. Blood dripping still. It was recent. She gasped and tried to walk away, but she felt something hot and hard on her feet that made her stop. Something that the faint light of the moon illuminated very well, she stepped on top of the corpse's guts.

"All this for what, I wonder sometimes. So many dead children, so many tormented spirits. If the fate had been different they could have been happy away from this misery." Toby whispered so quietly that even a breeze made more noise. He tried to pull her away, despite being cruelly reminded that he couldn't touch her. He was just a lost voice over others inside his own sister's head, so he did what he could. He caught her eye and pointed to a safe place.

"Because they are all too cowardly to fight for what they want, so they train us and use us," Morgana shivered with rage when tears came to her eyes, her fist closed on the blade that was just used in the poor devil's murder. "We are weapons in a war that we do not even know when it will happen. But it will be all right because I will destroy Cosmos and free all who still live, even if I die trying, I will drag those motherfuckers to hell with me!"

"Oh, now you're talking like yourself, good little girl." She felt the speck of happiness in the ghost's voice, even with all the sarcasm he dripped from each syllable. "Morgana, the girl who wanted to save the witches. Sounds like a good title for a biography." Toby continued to tease.

"I won't save them, wizards, humans, they both always think they're above everyone else. I'm just going to free them and then go home. Or what's left of our house. They can handle their problems on their own." Morgana sighed, crouching for a moment in the mud to undo an exploding trap. She eyed the device curiously before standing up and following the ghost further into the forest. The trees gave way to a brighter place, a snowy field opened up for them. A frozen river was mere steps ahead, their reflection was reflected under the stars and moon. There, the girl almost looked livid. A confirmation that her dead brother really was by her side - not that she didn't know it, but she thought she was crazy after everything she'd been through there.

"What are you going to do?" Toby asked, floating around her. She shrugged with a cynical laugh.

"I have all the information to destroy them, but I need time and resources," She explained taking a big breath to try to warm up, but she failed and she shivered. "We will complete this ridiculous task and we will go back to the base."

"Or you can open a..." Toby tried to dissuade her like an annoying good brother, but he stopped in mid-sentence and turned with confusion hovering over his face. And for the first time he was serious. If he could go pale with fear, he would surely be now. Although he was tired of running around, protecting the girl, he knew that every year was the same thing. But as he said hours earlier, her lord had summoned stronger demons this year. And the ghost felt three of them behind them at that moment. The same ones he didn't know if his sister would be able to defeat.

He pointed out to Morgana that she should start walking slowly and quietly to get as far away from the hiding demons as possible. Stumbling and almost slipping, Toby pushed his human and hoped that no one would appear. To his displeasure, Morgana started sneezing and coughing up blood again, he felt her magic get out of control and he cursed himself for letting her drink that strange pill the old man had given her. A lot of things could go wrong, but he really hoped nothing would happen now. The bushes moved and branches broke, and when Toby looked around there were three demons staring at Morgana with a desire to take her soul. The young girl was on the verge of a breakdown and he knew that her magic would be as unstable as every other time that she drank that pill.

"Can i do this?" He heard his sister swear in pain. "Do it, brother."

He looked at her before taking possession of her body as he had already done before. The cold she felt, he felt. The feelings and thoughts she had were his now. And with that, he moved his hands very quickly when he realized that the demons were approaching and surrounding them quickly. A great barrier separated them and prevented them from attacking it. It was weak and so he started running while he still had time, looking for a place he could use to keep his sister's body warm and safe until he thought of something.

"Bloody hell, what a shit situation, Morg!" Toby grunted, but now in a hoarse and dragged tone. He did not know how long he looked for shelter or how much time he spent running, but he knew that the presences were approaching again and this time much more aggressive. He heard the murmurs of disdain and sarcasm, and he feared for his sister's life. He saw the horns slowly came out of their heads, small and sharp, twisted to the sides and long black wings with emaciated feathers punctuating out of their backs.

'We are going to die!', Toby thought, no longer able to continue. 'This is all B's fault!'

"Look, Apoliom, Belial! Such a brilliant soul. Will you want to?" One of the demons commented to his friends in a tone of immense mockery, lifting the girl by her white hair and smiling when she struggled to get out of his grip. Unsuccessfully. Toby tried to use the chains, but the most that came out of the palms of Morgana's hands was smoke. And it made the demons laugh hysterically.

"If you're going to eat her soul, do it soon. We have to go back sooner or we are going to have problems." Apoliom murmured with great disinterest in the situation, but he wanted to know how someone so young had a soul as brilliant as those. "We're already full." Belial shrugged. "Hurry up!"

The demon's face seemed to melt like candle wax, revealing a hideous face of muscle, and his eyes went the blackest shade Toby had ever seen. He leaned forward, encouraged by the other two friends who had already satisfied their hunger, he opened his mouth ready to suck Morgana's soul, and if Toby still had one, his too.

But a very bright light suddenly blinded all the demons. It was hot. Intense. Angry and calm in the same proportion. There were screams of pain and curses thrown at random, but the light just kept expanding and expanding. And a flood of warm feelings went through the ghost's chest and he knew that this sensation reached Morgana somewhere in her tired mind, he felt that she fell into a deep sleep, warmed by that light. Her body finally fell, but not in the snow. In a pair of firm and gentle arms that lifted the small body. The demons were forgotten, expelled, although not even Toby was able to remain lucid for a long time, visibly affected by using possession for so long.

"The only survivor, we are going to take her with us, Barbatos."

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agentsoftie · 4 years

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“I Love You” ( S.R )

summary: you get kidnapped and tortured but luckily the team find you fast enough. you act like everything’s fine but spencer doesn’t believe it so he takes care of you. when he does this you both share some things

a/n: the title is like a quote from everyone and everything that has said it! yes, i did just think of that. also the first part of this might be triggering so, trigger warning! oh and thanks @thestrawberrygirl for helping me with the end!!

warnings: trigger warning: blood, cuts, mention of death : angst : fluffy end though because i like to make y/n’s life always have a fairytale ending

pairing: spencer reid x reader

tagging: @criminalmindsmoodrn, @marshmallowtraver, and @ghostly-angelic

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It’s been 21 hours. 21 hours since you got captured. Or at least that’s what the clock said. All you remember before blacking out was going out in the field. Everyone was split into pairs but you were the only one alone. You remember going out into a pitch-black alleyway. I guess that’s what you expect from going into one at night as a woman right.

You looked down to find cuts and blood all over you. You could still feel the pain but at this point, you had given up on any promise of your team finding you again. You just accepted your faith and tried not to entertain the guy that was holding you captive. You couldn’t get up because your ribs we’re broken, or at least that would explain the tremendous amounts of pain you felt when you tried to get up the first couple of times. You could feel that there was blood on your face, but what was the point of cleaning up. No one was gonna see you alive, except him.

“CLAUDE IRAY!!” You hear someone yell. You’re pretty sure it was Derek but at this point, this could all be a hallucination.

“Yes?” You hear him say smugly. You couldn’t tell where he was, but he was somewhere.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of 5 women, now where is Y/N Y/L/N!!” Derek said while cuffing him. Claude just remained silent.

“Y/N!! Y/N!!” You hear Spencer yell.

“In here!” You say after mustering up the energy to speak.

“Oh my god!” He says as he sees you. You couldn’t really see him. All you saw was his messy fluffy hair. You love that hair. He runs over to you and puts your head on his lap. He finds your pulse which is barely still there. He grabs your hand as you start to close your eyes. “Stay with me, come on you can do that. Just keep your eyes open for me. Come on,”

You didn’t quite finish hearing what he said because it was too late. Your eyes were closed, and you were fine with it. You had known something like this would possibly happen when you signed up for the academy so there was no arguing. The best you could do was try not to get blood on his shirt, which you miserably failed at.

“Y/N? Y/N come on. Y/N please,” All you felt was a tear on your face before blacking out.

“Reid, it’s been 3 days, you need to go home and get some sleep.” You faintly hear someone say.

“Hotch, no. I can’t leave her. She needs someone.”

“She has someone. Garcia, JJ, and Blake are outside right now and Morgan and Rossi are on their way here. But the difference is that they actually got sleep last night, and you should too. In your own bed, at home.”

“But sir,” Before he could say anything you moved your hand in a visible way and opened your eyes only to close them because of the blinding lights that were shining down. They both turned to look at you and just stared.

“Well hello to the both of you too,” You mummer while trying to sit up a little. “I uh, where am I?”

“Um, the hospital,” Spencer says.

“Oh, okay. Chill,” You say while your eyes still process all the light. 3 women entered the room, they were pretty blurry so you could barely tell who they were. “Oh my god, baby are you okay?” You see the one on the right say.

“Yeah, or think at least.”

One of them came quickly to your side and hed your hand, that was Blake. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again. You had us all worried sick,”

“Okay mom,” You say jokingly, but everyone else doesn’t seem to find it funny.

“We’re serious hun. We were all terrified of what could have happened to you.” Now that was JJ. She just had her ‘disappointed for no reason but seriously worried’ mom voice going on.

“Oh, you’re awake, finally,” Rossi says while he walks through the door with Derek following him. Derek didn’t say anything, he just came next to you and patted your shoulders with the ‘I’m glad you’re okay kid’ look.

“Yes yes I am awake and well, or at least I think. What ever happened to me? And what happened to him?” You say now fully awake.

“You were unconscious and unstable. Luckily Reid found you in time, or else you probably wouldn’t be here right now. And as for Iray, he’s in jail for now, but you will need to testify.” Hotch says in his normal stern voice. It was like nothing changed, but you and everyone else knew that they had a big time.

“So how damaged am I?” You say just as the doctor walks in.

“I can help you with that. I’m Dr.Stevens and its nice to see that you’re up. You have a mild concussion, a few broken ribs, and some physical therapy.” She says while checking your BP. “How long will I be here?” You ask wanting to get out of this shit hole. “Um, about 3 or 4 days. Although when you do get home you’re gonna want to have someone there, so do you have anyone that could help?

Before you could say anything Spencer answered. “She’s staying with me.” You didn’t want to argue with him because you didn’t have any relatives that could take care of you, and you felt safe in his company. Plus, he looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep and you did not want to mess with ‘no sleep Spencer’ it was like a death sentence.

“Okay, great!” Is all she said before walking out.

“Spencer are you sure about this?” You ask while you get changed.

“Yes, Y/N. I am sure. Now come on, hurry up.”

“So, you’re just gonna drop me off at my place right,” You ask when opening the curtain.

“No. You are gonna stay with me, at my place.”

“But,”

“No ‘buts’ come on, you need someone.”

“I know I know I just don’t want to be a burden.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re not. Now come one, let’s get checked out.”

The car ride home was silent, but it was a comforting silence. A silence you needed after the disaster of a week you had. Spencer’s apartment was about half an hour away from the hospital, but yours was only 20 so you were confused as of stopping. “Wait, if I’m staying at your place then don’t I need clothes?”

“Yeah, Blake went and got some?”

“She has my key? Huh?”

“Yeah, you gave it to her the other day. You probably don’t remember though.” He says while laughing very lightly. There was the Spencer you knew. The Spencer you love. The Spencer you would do anything for. But, you couldn’t have him. Maeve was the only one he had ever loved and knowing him, he’s probably still grieving.

“Okay, here we are,” He says while pulling up to a semi-empty parking lot. He got out first, but being the kind gentleman he is he helped you out. Luckily you didn’t have any bags or luggage to carry with you so it wasn’t that hard to get to his place but you were still sore as hell so the ride up the elevator was a little painful. Spencer had noticed and asked if you were okay, but all you said was everything’s fine, and that he shouldn’t worry. He knew better though so the minute you walked in the apartment he went in the kitchen.

“Spencer, what are you doing?” You say sitting down.

“Here, drink this. I used to make this for my mom whenever she got a headache.” He says handing you a drink.

“But I don’t have a headache,”

“Just drink it, trust me.” So you did exactly what he said and drank it. You couldn’t tell if it was tea or coffee. It had a peppermint taste and smell though so you were very confused and he noticed. “Its uh, peppermint tea. Does it taste good?” You simply responded with a nod. “Well, um we should probably go to sleep now,” He says while looking outside.

“I can just sleep here on the couch or something, it’s no big deal,” You say halfway finished with the tea.

“I can’t just let you sleep on the couch. what if you get hurt?”

“And how would that happen?”

“I don’t know but what if? Come on how about you sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep here. On the couch,”

“Spencer, I can’t just take your own bed from you in your own house. That’s just plain rude.”

“Fine then sleep with me. Oh, wait, I didn’t mean that,” He says fumbling over his words. You loved it when he did this, it gave him a more human side. “I mean, you and I can sleep in the same bed. It’s a win-win for both of us. You know, like I will sleep in my own bed like you want, and you’ll be safe like I want.” You never noticed how much he talks with his hands when he gets nervous, it’s cute.

“Okay, fine. Just know that i'm fine though.”

“Stop!! Please!! I didn't do anything! Please, I promise I wont say anything!!” You yell in the middle of the night or whatever. You didn't know, it was a dream. But it felt so real. It was like he was there and it was happening all over again. “Please just let me go!” You yell again. You couldn't help it.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N wake up!” Spencer yells as he moves your arm.

You open your eyes and immediately jump up. “Spencer, I uh, I'm, I’m fine.” You say still trying to regain all your air. You weren't fine and he knew it. I mean, how do explain that without saying the truth? Do you say you had a dream about Hotch giving you more paperwork? No, he would never believe that. What about you getting your haircut involuntarily? That could possibly work.

“Y/N, you're not fine,” He says in a very scratch deep voice. He had just woken up and you could tell.

“Yes I am, now go back to-” You were cut off by a very new version of Spencer. A version you had never seen before. You weren’t scared in a sense just worried. He wasn’t playing around and definity was not going to go to sleep until you admit everything.

“Y/N come on. Just tell me everything. Was that about, you know,” he says in a more softer comforting tone this time.

“Just call him by his name. Claude Iray. And yeah, it was. Now can we just go back to sleep, my back is killing me.”

“Come here,” he said before pulling you close to his chest. It was comfortable and actually really soothing. “Talk, tell me everything.”

“I can't. I can’t cause’ if I do then it's like living it all over again and I just, I just can't!”

“What were you thinking about?” He asks as if nothing just happened.

“When?”

“In those 21 hours.”

“The team, my friends, you. I was thinking about all the things that I didn't get to say. The things that I needed to say.”

“Like what?”

“Well, um,” you pulled away from his chest, not sure if what you were gonna say next would be the best option in the world. “I was thinking of how I didnt get to say “I love you” to you. And I totally get it if you know you don't feel the same way. It makes total sense and stuff, and if this is uncomfortable and stuff I can go to Alex’s. She is kinda like my mom so it would make sense if she took care of me. Oh god now I'm rambling.”

He looked at you for a second as if he was unsure with what you just said. But then he grabbed you and put his lips on yours. It took you a minute to process everything that was happening, but the minute you did you kissed back. He pulled you in closer the minute you did. Sadly though you both needed to break apart because of loss of air.

“I love you too,”

“Love is a great beautifier”

— louisa may alcott

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #reader x spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #spencer reid fluff #hope you like it!#mira writes

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