#I know she's under hypnosis but if she wasn't she would get annoyed at it sooner or later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

th3sp4rr0w · 11 months

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Day Nineteen

A03 Link <- Starts at Chapter/Day One for those just joining us :))

Prompts For Day Nineteen Taken For Granted/Left Behind/”Why Wasn’t I Enough?”

Alt. Prompt For Day Nineteen Hypnosis

Prompts Used for Day Nineteen "Why Wasn't I Enough?"

Tw's; Vomit, Guns, Injury Mention

Chapter Nineteen under the cut :)

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Summertime was always fun. Getting ice cream, hanging out with friends, having no responsibilities for three months; it was a break from the monotonous routine of going to school, dealing with people that hated him for seven straight hours, coming home to do work and doing it all over again.

The best part about summer was having time to spend with his mom. Going to different places just to stargaze, getting to see different parts of the world while hunting for ghosts? Even if his parents could be annoying sometimes, it was fine. All he really had to do was get past Jazz and everything would be alright.

Like right now! After the Fenton-Portal didn’t work, they were preparing for a trip out of state to go to different conventions and see if they can figure out what was going on with it so they could fix it. They might even be back in time for his birthday.

He heard his phone ring from the stand. He turned and answered it; it was glitching slightly, he’d have to have Tucker look at it if it didn’t fix itself.

“Hey, Danny speaking. Talk to me,” he greeted.

There was horrible, wet coughing on the other end of the line. “Danny,” Tucker said and sniffed, “We hanging out today?”

He winced. “Dude, even if I weren’t packing for a trip right now, I wouldn’t hang with you. You sound awful, what’s up?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just so cold right now.”

His voice sounded off, but not sick-off. He wondered if he did something to his throat; his voice sounded a lot deeper. The words caught up to him and he frowned. “Dude, what are you talking about? I’m melting over here,” he replied as he wiped beads of sweat from his forehead.

Tucker groaned. “No, I’m like, so cold right now dude,” he said. Danny laughed a bit.

“You’re sick, man. Go get some sleep, I’ll call Sam and let her know. I’m sure she’ll bring you something.”

“Ugh, veggie crap,” he sniffed. “I want Nasty Burger.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, Tucker,” he said into the receiver and hung up.

He went to put his phone in his pocket when he saw something in the reflection. Giving a little “huh?”, he went to check again. There was a soft knock on the door.

He turned around. “Yeah?”

Jazz walked in with some pancakes. “I figured you’d want something before we have to live off protein bars and stuff that really shouldn’t count as fruit,” she joked.

Her voice was slightly off, too. It was almost like she had an... echo?

“Thanks, Jazz,” he said, grabbing the plate from her. He swore he could still hear someone talking. “Are mom and dad down stairs?”

“Yeah, they’re finishing putting up the last of the defenses against ghosts. You know how they are.”

He nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, they’re a bit... eccentric,” he said.

She snorted. “Did you hear that they determined that ghosts don’t have digestive systems because any food they give them disappears?”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s dumb, maybe they just process it a different way? Also, since when are you interested in this crap?”

She frowned. “I...”

“Jazzerincess! Danno! It’s time to go, are you kids done packing-” Jack called from downstairs, devolving into a coughing fit. They heard Maddie offer him a tissue.

Something about it made his insides go cold for just a few moments before he shook it off. The oppressive heat immediately took its place again. Today was shaping up to be weirder than usual. “Almost done dad!” he shouted back.

He looked at Jazz, stuffing his phone in his pocket so he could grab a still-warm pancake. “Thanks, Jazz,” he said. “I’ve gotta finish up packing before dad chokes on his own saliva again and we never get out of here.”

She giggled and left.

Assuming the voices he could hardly hear were his parents', he finished packing. Occasionally, he thought he could see something out of the corner of his eye. He assumed it was nothing. He ate bits of pancake as he went.

He carried his bags downstairs. He‘d sensibly packed a backpack of the essentials and a smaller backpack of consoles, chargers, and books to keep himself occupied in the car and whatever hotels or campsites they stopped at. He had headphones with him. He thought of everything.

He cursed. He’d almost forgotten to grab his toothbrush.

He set the bags on the couch and ran back upstairs, waving to Jazz as he went. There was a weird show on TV showing a boy eating soup in some sort of room with a hospital bed. There was another boy next to him laying down.

He slid into the bathroom, almost crashing into the bathtub as he did. He wrenched open the cabinet before he could think about it too hard, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste to go back down the stairs so they could leave.

He shook his head. He thought he saw something weird.

He grabbed his small bag, putting the toothbrush and toothpaste in the side pocket and started to head for the car. The sun beat down on them from above, causing more beads of sweat to drip down his face uncomfortably and make him regret his choice of not going to go stay with Tucker while they did this. Tucker and Sam both had air conditioning.

He thought of the thick cough his friend had this morning. On second thought, he was glad he didn’t stay with him; he didn’t want whatever disease Tucker had contracted.

They piled into the car and started driving down the road. He picked up the copy of Pride and Prejudice Jazz lent him for the trip and started reading.

“Danny, sweetie, why don’t you put some sunscreen on?”

He frowned. “Not right now, mom,” he said.

She huffed. “Why don’t you at least have some soup?”

He frowned. “Soup?”

She tried to shove a thermos in his face. “Come on, sweetie, for me?”

He curled up on himself. “Mom, I don’t want to get souped again,” he said. “Remember the last time I ate soup in the car?”

“Danny, just take the soup so she’ll leave you alone,” Jazz said, grabbing the thermos and shoving it in his hands.

He took a drink. It tasted like piss; he gagged slightly. He noticed his mom and Jazz staring at him expectantly.

“It’s hot,” he said. It was; it burned as he drank.

“Good. Drink it,” his mom said.

He rolled his eyes. He drank as much of the soup as he could, just so she’s stop.

The lingering taste twisted his stomach. As the car moved forward it got worse.

He tried to focus on the book. He hummed under his breath. They’d probably get mad at him if another soup incident began.

He watched as Jazz downed some soup of her own. He didn’t know how she could stand it; the heat was building up in the GAV. He knew better than to ask to turn on the air conditioning; his parents were strict about where and when they turned it on. It was one of the few things that was non-negotiable.

He was beginning to think he was right to put the tank-top on but was sorely regretting wearing sweatpants.

His gut twisted. He jerked in his seat. “Pull over."

“What-”

“Pull over!”

His dad pulled over as he allowed Jazz to take the book. He pulled off his seat belt, opening his door and leaning out.

He could feel Jazz rubbing his back and whispering something to him. It was weird; her voice almost sounded like Tucker’s had earlier.

His mom forced some water into his mouth. He obediently swallowed.

They sat there for a moment, Danny collapsing into the seat. He thought he could vaguely hear a Tick, Tick, Tick, somewhere in the car. Another roll of nausea waved through him.

His gut cramped painfully as he retched, Jazz once again rubbing his back. He thought he could feel someone’s hand in his hair, but he couldn’t decipher who’s.

His mom handed him a tissue to wipe his mouth with when he was done.

They got back on the road, Jazz helping to prop him up using some of the pillows she’d brought. She leaned him over to rest his head on her shoulder.

He almost let the lull of the road put him to sleep. He closed his eyes and let the motion soothe him; he warned them not to give him soup on the road. This was exactly what happened last time he was given soup in the car.

He rubbed his eyes, cleaning out the crusty bits trying to glue them together. Jazz absently kept petting his head. He stared at his dad’s seat.

The driving was too smooth. It was almost like his dad actually knew how to drive; it was nice, and not that he wanted to question it, but it worried him. Jack had never been able to drive this well.

It was like he’d been replaced. He looked around.

He thought he saw something white at the edge of his vision. What was-

They pulled into a truck stop as he started questioning himself. He shook his head; he always got way too car sick on these long trips, especially when he was hot. The soup hadn’t helped. The taste in the back of his throat didn’t help the nausea that still lingered in his stomach.

“What happened to him?” He heard someone ask as they got out of the car.

“He got carsick,” Maddie replied, looking at the person with a protective glare.

Their face scrunched up. “How’d you deal with that in the car?”

“We pulled over,” she stated flatly.

They scoffed. “Figures. Parents these days are much too soft on their misbehaving children.”

“You listen here-”

“Mads! You and Danno comin’?” Jack called. When they turned back, the person was gone.

They shook it off, Maddie helping Danny into the truck stop. When they got inside, she encouraged him to go to his dad.

He almost tripped, Jack catching him and smiling down. “You okay, champ?” he asked.

Danny nodded. He opened his mouth and frowned. He could swear he heard something.

“... Ghosts parading around as teenagers. Don’t be fooled-"

He looked around. “What was-”

Jack started tugging him to the bathroom. “Come on, Danno, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He followed his father on unsteady feet. The more he looked around, the weirder it was getting. Most of the people around them were wearing white; White hoodies and sweats, white blouses with white jeans, white dresses. It was starting to freak him out.

They went into the bathroom. He went into a stall, trying to calm down. What was going on? What was happening here?

He took several deep breaths, trying to gather his thoughts. Sweat dripped down his neck, soaking his tank. He felt wet in places that he didn’t know he could sweat; it felt like he’s had an accident on his way here.

He really wished he’d had the forethought to wear shorts. He wasn’t even sure where they were going, but wherever it was, it was just getting warmer.

He heard someone knock on the stall door. He figured that was as good of a sign as anything that he’d been in here too long and to get out.

He opened the door and got out, going towards a sink. He turned on the cold water and thought about it for a second as it ran.

He stuck his hand under the cold stream. He was going to splash his face, but couldn’t quite get the motions down. Desperate for any sort of relief from the heat, he stuck his head under the faucet.

“Danny?” He heard his dad ask. “You okay there, buddy?”

He didn’t respond. The cold was a blessing on his flushed skin. He already felt like his head was clearing.

Tick, Tick, Tick

Someone had an annoyingly loud watch. He decided he didn’t want to know who, staying under the stream for what was probably longer than necessary.

He went up for air for just a moment before going back to the stream. He wanted to stick his whole body in the sink but didn’t think that would be a very pleasant thing to do to the rest of the people in the small space.

He felt his dad’s hand on his shoulder. “Okay, champ, that’s enough,” he said. He held the whine that tried to escape his chest back by the skin of his teeth; it was like finally getting a glass of water after years without it, and somebody coming along and saying you’d had too much. He almost wrenched himself from his father’s grasp to go back underneath the cool stream.

Jack helped him dry off with paper towels. He felt more balanced as they walked back to the car, even as he mourned the cold stream of the sink.

The walk felt longer than it had when they were going to the bathroom. He figured he’d been more out of it before, and now he could appreciate it.

… Assuming you could appreciate a sea of white like this. He didn’t know what was up with that. Oh well; it’s not like his own tank top wasn’t white. It was a hot day, after all. That must be it.

As they walked, he got the distinct feeling of something just being... wrong.

Tick, Tick, Tick

He turned. Nothing. He took a deep breath. He was fine; it was just hot. The heat was getting to him, consuming him whole. That’s all. A cold drink and getting his parents to turn on the AC would fix everything.

His mom and Jazz were already waiting by the car, holding drinks when they got there. His dad opened his door for him, making sure he was in the car completely before closing with a distinct slam. It almost sounded like someone closing the lab door a bit too hard. Everybody got settled before putting on seatbelts and starting the GAV.

He looked around at Maddie and Jazz, waiting patiently for them to begin to pass out drinks. He hoped they got him ice-cold water.

He could see it in his mom’s hand. He waited patiently, not willing to risk his chance of getting them to put on the ac. He could feel sweat still dripping down his back as he waited.

He picked up the book, feeling good enough to go back to reading. He was getting to the good part where Elizabeth finally talked to Mr. Darcy about George Wickham. He was never one to reread a book to hunt for the finer details, but something about this book-

Hang on... when did he first read Pride and Prejudice ? He tried to think back, combing over his education. He normally wasn’t one to read for fun. He opened his mouth to ask Jazz when she read it in school, only for his mom to make a noise.

“Oh! I’m sorry, guys, I forgot to pass out drinks,” she said, turning around and handing Danny and Jazz their waters.

He tore into his easily, making sure not to lose his place in the book. Jazz grabbed it from his lap. He thanked her before tilting his head back, drinking the cold water greedily. It soothed something in his chest, cooling him down and making him feel more human.

When he was done, he asked if they could turn on the ac. His mom twisted to look at him, Jazz giving him the same look.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” She asked, pressing her hand to his forehead. She frowned. “You’re really warm. Baby, it’s not that hot in here.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked. “It’s boiling; I feel like I’m melting,” he complained.

Jazz grabbed his shoulder. “Danny, it’s really not that hot in here. Do you need us to stop the car? You drank your water pretty fast-”

“No, I’m not nauseous,” he said instead. “I’m fine. It’s just hot, can we turn on the ac?”

His dad looked at him through the rear-view mirror, “We’ll stop to get you something else cold to drink soon, champ. This ac isn’t going on; you might be hot, but the rest of us are fine,” he said, not unkindly.

He didn’t protest any more. He knew better than that; if he pushed, it’d just get his dad mad and, although the man wouldn’t mean to, his driving would become more erratic than it normally was and he’d nearly crash the car again. Considering they were in the GAV, a lot more damage could be done, and he really didn’t want to know how that would play out.

His nose ran a bit. He wiped it, taking a tissue from his mom and putting it in the bag she’d brought for their trash. He cracked his wrists, which had become stiff for... whatever reason. Especially his left. He moved his fingers; they felt stiff and borderline unusable. Cracking the knuckles didn’t help.

He took the book back from Jazz. Where was he again?

Ah, yes, the absolute drama fest Elizabeth had created for herself by not taking warnings as they came.

He smiled a bit. At least she wasn’t Jane; oh, that girl would drive him crazy. He wondered what her father would do in real life to that man. He knew his dad would NOT have stood for that sort of behavior from any suitor of Jazz’s.

He shook his head. Maybe he was getting too into this. Ah, well. What else was he going to do? His wrist felt too stiff for videogames right now.

Tick, Tick, Tick

The car slowed down. He hadn’t realized just how much time had passed; they were in some sort of desert. “Okay, everybody out,” Jack said.

They began getting out of the GAV. His mom grabbed the tents, beginning to set them up. He watched her; she was completely dry as he sweat through his clothes. He felt absolutely soaked.

He thought about putting one of Jazz’s blankets up on the open doors to create a privacy barrier to change behind, but he decided against it. He’d just sweat through those too.

He spotted a door.

Tick, Tick, Tick

He went towards it. He didn’t hear anyone call him back as he went to the door in the middle of nowhere. He wondered what it was doing out there.

He opened it easily. He looked back. He normally didn’t act on these sorts of impulses, but something was wrong. He could feel it. He needed to do this.

He walked through the door, coming to a winding path of halls. He began to walk. Occasionally, he’d see little glowing markers. He went down those hallways; he had a feeling they were important. He couldn’t explain it; it was like something was leading him to something big.

He looked around at the emerald-colored floors. The trim was intricate; it looked like someone had hand-carved it, taking hours of work just to hang here. He had the feeling it would’ve been an honor to have completed a project like that. The tapestries that hung on the walls had the same vibe; it was like they were made specifically for these granite walls.

He had the distinct feeling he’d been here before but couldn’t place when. It was like thinking back to a dream you’d had years before. He looked around.

Occasionally he’d see beautiful statues made from expensive-looking material. He had no idea where he was, but it felt like he’d seen them before. He frowned, trying to think. His breathing was harsh, even though he hadn’t done much actual exercise. He tried to wrack his brain.

He heard voices. He checked the glowing markers; they went straight to the voices. He understood the language, though he didn’t think he’d ever heard it before.

“Mother, why must I learn about this?”

“Because you will need to know soon, darling,” a woman answered.

He peaked his head around the threshold. He saw a woman and a child sitting on an expensive-looking bed with silky sheets.

“Mother, I promise I am ready-”

“Darling, I know you are ready for combat. I want your life to have more than that.”

Danny stepped further into view. Both of their heads snapped towards him. The woman furrowed her brow as the child grabbed a knife from under the pillow.

“INTRUDER!” He shouted, starting to lunge at him.

“Darling, stop,” the woman murmured.

She walked up to him. She was beautiful. She was vaguely familiar; why was everything so familiar-

“Habibi,” she said. Darling, his mind supplied. “What are you doing in this place? How did you get here?”

He opened his mouth to tell her of his parents and their road trip. He couldn’t get the words out. Instead, he stammered out, “I- I’m not sure.”

She placed a hand on his cheek. “You are very flushed,” she said. She turned over her shoulder.

“Darling, go get a servant. Ask them, nicely, to bring me some cold water.”

He nodded seriously. “Yes, mother.”

He started running as fast as his small feet would carry him.

The woman turned back to him. “Jason, your father is incredibly worried for you. Where did you come from?”

He was more confused than he was before. “My name is Danny,” he said.

The woman looked more concerned. “Habibi, what do you speak of?”

The feeling that had been building made his stomach roll. “I think we’re in trouble,” he muttered, almost collapsing.

She caught him easily. “Who is ‘we’, habibi?”

He licked his lips. “Me and Jason.”

She sat him down. “Explain.”

He tried to think. “I-I think, we’re being held... captive?”

She nodded. “I heard the same rumor. Where are you?”

He closed his eyes. He tried to think. “It hurts,” he whimpered. He felt her cup his cheek, stroking his hair.

“I know. Describe where you are, habibi, so we can help you and Jason.”

“... White. White room.”

“Good, good, what about the people?”

His breath hitched. “White suit.”

He opened his eyes. His gaze caught a mirror. If he turned his head right...

“She’s giving him soup.”

The woman looked at him. “What?”

“The- the lady. She’s giving him soup,” he repeated.

He vaguely registered her looking to follow his gaze. “You see him? In the mirror?”

“Yes,” he said. “She had two bowls... I don’t know why- I think she’s getting me something cold.”

“Can you hear them?”

He shook his head slightly. “I think I could before. I couldn’t hear them this time.”

She hummed. “Why did they take you?”

He made a pained noise. “I... I can’t remember. Everything’s wrong. I can’t think-”

“Shh,” she soothed. “It’s alright, habibi. Just relax,” she rubbed his shoulder. “Try to think. What happened when they took you?”

He tried to think. It was like trying to remember a past life.

“They don’t like us.”

He heard her hum again. “You’re doing well,” she said. She rubbed his cheek. “Habibi, why don’t they like you and Jason?”

He felt something painful in his wrist. “They don’t think we’re human.”

She blinked. “What does that mean, habibi?”

He tried to remember. Why didn’t they think he was human again? He felt pretty human right now.

“I...” he trailed off. “She’s back.”

The small child the woman had sent out earlier came back, a cup of cold water in his hand. “Mother, I could not find a servant, so I did the task myself.”

She gently took the water from him. “Thank you, darling. Can you leave us for a few moments?”

He looked like he wanted to pout. “Yes, mother,” he said instead, leaving the room once more.

She held the glass to Danny’s lips at the same time the boy, Jason, held a spoon to his. The cold was soothing, filling his body with relief. The water only soothed for a few seconds.

The woman holding him in her arms tried to ask a question, but he couldn’t hear her. He realized it was the cold broth that soothed his insides. He shook with effort, trying to get his body to hold the spoon.

He got it. He began to watch himself spoon it into his mouth and swallow. With each mouth full, he felt better. He looked at the woman.

“She came back. She gave me cold broth,” he whispered. His face scrunched in concentration. “I don’t think she’s nice. She’s better than the rest, but she feels... weird.”

The woman smoothed over his hair. “Habibi, I know it’s hard, but can you remember anything else?”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t remember why they wanted him, or why his body felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t identify the feeling in his chest.

“I don’t,” he said, “I’m sorry. I-”

He got an idea. He grabbed her wrist. “My name is Daniel James Fenton,” he said. “Please. Please, look into them. Jack and Maddie, my parents. I- I think-”

He thought of the portal that didn’t work. Was it always like that? Hadn’t it been active? He couldn’t remember very much.

“You think what, habibi?” she asked, not unkindly.

“I think they have something to do with this.”

His eyes stared at nothing. Memories slammed into him, one after another. His eyes welled up.

“I wasn’t good enough for them,” he said. Tears began streaming down his face.

“For whom, habibi?”

“For them,” he emphasized. “They don’t love me anymore. They think I killed him,” he cried.

“Killed who?” She asked franticly.

“Danny,” he said. “They think I killed Danny-”

Memories flooded him. They came too fast for him to explain.

“I hurt him,” he cried. “I hurt Dash, they yelled, they found out-”

“Found what out, habibi? You need to slow down; I do not understand.”

He couldn’t. Slow down, that is. The memory of the worst day of his life snatched his breath. He screamed.

His body began glowing in a familiar pattern, going from the center of his palm to just above his heart on his chest. It tore into him, consumed everything; any rational thought he’d had before.

Tick, Tick, Tick

The woman tried to help him; he could vaguely hear her yelling something above his head.

He knew it was too late. Something inside of him told him so.

When the pain subsided just a bit, he looked at her. “It’s the GIW!” he yelled.

She snapped her head at him. “What?!”

“It’s the-”

He disappeared from her grasp. He tried to hang onto her clothing as he was snatched from her grasp; it did not work.

He was slammed back into his body besides Jason, his arm aching from the center of his-

That’s right. He looked at his half-formed hand, shaking. The pain wrapped around his wrist like a cuff, feeling like it was cutting off the circulation. He half expected to look down and find it purple.

He nearly fell off the bed. Jason caught him, trying to calm him down. “Dude,” he said, “Phantom! Phantom, what’s-”

Tears flowed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he said pathetically.

The other boy laughed slightly. “For what?”

“I couldn’t- I tried-”

Jason took him in his arms, rubbing his back. “Hey, breathe,” he said softly, “You’re not making much sense. You need to calm down, Phantom,” he said.

His body convulsed. He sobbed into the other boy’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t good enough,” he cried. “I’m sorry, I tried- I tried to tell her,”

“Shhh,” he replied, rocking him softly. “You need to calm down,” he said.

Danny looked up at him pathetically, another round of violent sobs overtaking him.

Jason, the saint he was, rolled with it. He soothed him as best as he could, rubbing down his back and shoulders. Eventually, he calmed down enough to have some semblance of having his life together. The tears stopped. He opened his mouth to tell him what he’d just seen.

The jingle of keys caught their attention. They looked towards the door, seeing an agent they’d interacted with before.

“Come on, maggots,” he said severely. “I’ve been told to take you to the bathroom.”

They followed him. Jason took his good hand in his. They followed the agent to the bathroom, trailing slightly behind as much as they could. Jason rubbed circles into his flesh as they walked.

When they got there, he went for the sink. He turned on the cold water, splashing it over himself. Once he felt like he cooled down as much as he could, he went to the stall to use the bathroom.

He had no idea if that was a real thing he’d seen or if he was just hallucinating. He thought it might not matter; whatever just happened, it’s not like he’d actually given the woman anything useful. Even if he had, what would she have done?

It was probably just his subconscious trying to soothe itself. His parents loving him, taking care of him like they used to; it was probably just a fever-induced dream. He shouldn’t read too much into it.

False hope was going to hurt more if he allowed it to. He knew there was nobody coming; his friends could easily track his ecto-signature, and he still hadn’t heard anything from Ellie. They probably cut their losses.

That was fine. He’d been the placeholder all his life; he should’ve known that, eventually, Sam and Tucker would also move on. He’d always been someone that filled the space until someone better came along. It was his fault if he was hurt that they’d finally gone and done that very thing.

Jason looked at him, concerned. He washed his hands and bent down, drinking straight from the tap. He allowed the cold to run through his veins and cool him down; his head felt clear. He felt like he could think. He’d probably still tell Jason about it; it was just a dream he’d had when he wasn’t in his right mind.

Jason handed him a bottle. He smiled at him and filled it with cold water. He could see Jason filling his with warm. He vaguely remembered that Jason was sensitive to the cold.

He wondered why they had different temperature needs. He wondered what Jason’s core was like. He might check that out when they got to the room; he wouldn’t want to try anything in the bathroom in case someone walked in on them.

When they were about to leave, he got an idea. He took his tank top off, running it under the cold tap. Jason watched him as he wrung it out and put it back on.

“Smart,” he muttered.

Thanks,” he replied.

They made sure the bottles were in Jason’s hoodie pocket before they left. They walked back down the halls, the twists and turns melting together and giving him a low-grade headache.

When they got into the room, the agent shut the door and locked it. Jason looked at him before giving him his water.

He thanked him quietly. They looked at each other for a few minutes.

“All right,” he said eventually, “I’ll bite. Phantom, what was that earlier?”

He took a deep breath before explaining. “I don’t know, man,” he said finally, “I think my brain just likes fucking with me. ‘Why couldn’t you be good enough for your parents, you piece of shit? Huh? You a little bitch boy?’” he mocked.

Jason snorted at him. “I don’t think it’s stupid, if it makes you feel better. That is weird, though. I wonder what was up with the rich people shit.”

He shrugged. “Maybe it was me associating one of my friends with safety? Her parents are rich as shit.”

Jason shrugged again. “Who knows? Brains are weird,” he said. “And if it makes you feel better,” he said getting close and booping him on the nose, “You’re more than good enough for me. You’re my brother, you hear? If anything, they’re not good enough for you.”

He smiled a bit. “Thanks, Ja-”

“Cardinal. Code names, remember?”

“Shoot, that dream has me more fucked up than I realized,” he said. “Sorry, Cardinal. Thank you.”

He waved him off. “You’re okay, man.”

He linked their pinkies together. They sat in silence for a few minute before he suddenly perked up. “By the way,” he said.

Danny looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

He saw the other boy take a deep breath. He looked over to the door before going under his hoodie and into his belt. He could hear two ‘Snap! Snap!’s before he pulled out his hand.

He blinked. “Cardinal. What am I looking at?”

When he looked back up, the other boy was smiling guiltily at him. “I stole this earlier,” he said lowly and held out the watch. “And I may have took this from the van?”

He held out a gun. It was smaller than any of the ones he’d seen before. He sighed. “Cardinal-”

“I know, I should’ve mentioned this way earlier, but I didn’t know how to bring it up,” he said.

He took it gently. He inspected it. “Okay, I haven’t seen this model before,” he said, “But I think I can figure it out. This-” he pointed to the cartridge, “Is where they put vials of ectoplasm.”

He watched Jason nod.

“This one’s empty,” he said, It looks like they discarded it for some reason. I don’t think it’s broken, but I can take a look when my hand regrows.”

He watched Jason take a deep breath. “Do you think we could rig it up to take ectoplasm from our bodies to fuel it?”

He blinked. He brought his left hand up, stroking his chin with what was formed. “Maybe. I’ve never thought of doing it like that before.”

Jason nodded. “It doesn’t need to be perfect,” he said. “It just needs to vaguely work.”

He nodded. “I can probably do that. We might need to steal some material, though,” he contemplated.

“Done. Just let me know and we’ll keep an eye out.”

He grinned. He loved having someone so on board with his plans.

“I think we can get away with using some scalpels as tools,” he said.

“I have a lock picking kit on me, do you think those’ll work?”

He shrugged. “What do they look like?”

Jason took the kit out of his belt. Danny took it from him gently, looking it over. “Yeah, these might be able to unscrew something,” he said.

He helped the boy pack it all up and away in his belt. “I think we’ll need... man, I wonder if they have some sort of specter deflector?”

“What?”

“Something that deflects ghosts,” he explained.

Jason shrugged. “I’d assume so?”

They talked lowly for a few more minutes, going over ideas. Eventually, Jason took the blue journal from the ceiling, tossing it down to Danny.

Sketching ideas was fun. There was still an undercurrent of hurt in his chest.

He didn’t think he’d ever understand why he wasn’t good enough for his mom. Why they disowned him so quick; the hatred in his father’s eyes.

It was a look he hadn’t seen even on the agent’s faces. He looked over to Jason.

He couldn’t imagine doing something like that to him. Or to Ellie, or Jazz, or Tucker and Sam. He didn’t think he’d ever understand why, or how, his parents could do it to him. It was like they didn’t even have to think about it; they’d done it as easily as breathing.

At least he had Jason. He’d had the dream woman. From what Jason said, he’d probably have the Bat too, when they met; apparently, he was in the early stages of an adoption addiction, and Jason was already planning on making it worse by getting him to adopt the neighbor.

They put the journal away before they lay on the cot. They could think about this more tomorrow.

He was still unnaturally warm, but he’d been getting steadily better. He hoped that was a good sign.

He cuddled up to Jason. He hoped the dream was some sort of sign they were going to survive. That there were still people out there looking for them.

He suddenly felt silly for feeling like his friends and sisters forgot about him. Of course, they hadn’t.

After all, he didn’t forget about them just because he had Jason. He just had to be patient.

He just had to survive a little longer.

#dp x dc #ailesswhumptober2023 #jason todd #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc robin #robin #batman #ai less whumptober day nineteen #kite flies over the nightingale nest

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gracie-p8-officialblog · 5 years

Text

Spilling Tea On Phantom of the Opera 2004

DISCLAIMER: I just want to say from the start that it is not my intention to offendanyone, you're entitled to your opinions and I'm allowed to have mine...

Ok, so, I just watched this movie a few days ago on my laptop and it was pretty much my first time sitting through the movie. I watched a few clips of the movie on YouTube but... Then, I decided to watch the whole movie. And this was my reaction.

Don't get me wrong! There WERE parts I liked but... That was just half of the movie... But overall... Um... It was meh. Ahem. Down to business!

My opinion on Gerard Butler as the Phantom? Um, wow. And not in a good way. I feel like this was a case of a talented performer being grossly miscast as the Phantom. I think this Tumblr post best describes on what I thought of his singing.

"He's supposed to have the voice of an angel, but it sounds like he's been gargling vinegar" ~Quoted by @faded-florals

Don't get me wrong. His voice is quite good for an untrained singer but... The Phantom is one of the biggest musical theatre roles of all time! It's right up there with Jean Valjean. It's really not a role that could go a competent singer, someone who's never sang professionally before but could be good once they've been trained up a bit. The role demands a truly great singer... And he wasn't right for the part.

His voice felt too strainy, growly and rock-ish for the Phantom. I didn't like how Joel Schumacher bought into the whole "sexy Phantom" thing and cast a hunky heart-throb, who was nowhere near disfigured enough. It's meant to be a gothic thriller novel with a small romantic subplot, not a B-grade vampire romance movie!

As for Emmy Rossum as Miss Christine Daae... it's true, her voice is good. She should know though, should she wish to excel, she has MUCH still to learn (Heeeeehee. Sorry. Couldn't resist.)

Emmy's Christine had little-to-no character growth and personality but I don't think it reflects her as an actress, but reflects more on the director and casting director because of how young she was (but more on that later)

Not only that, her Christine was SIGNIFICANTLY dumbed down and oversexualized. I mean, the entire point of the story is that Christine grows strong enough to overcome the trauma of an abusive relationship and make sure that her abuser never hurts anyone ever again but still shows the Phantom compassion and sympathy. I mean, her story arc is her becoming strong-willed enough to overcome the Phantom's pull/spell/enchantment/hypnosis or whatever you percieve it as on her! And don't get me started on her costumes because of the SEVERE lack of modesty.

The chemistry was a little flat because she was underage and her two male love interests were both in their 30s (which totally isn't HER fault, of course, but the directors could easily have cast someone else older)

Her voice, too, strikes me as being much too young and undeveloped. She has a very pretty, sweet-sounding quality to her singing but she doesn't sound rich and operatic enough to be a convincing Christine. Rebecca Caine and Amy Manford do the best job of singing the way I think Christine ought to sound- a maturing opera voice! Though POTO is NOT an opera (you wouldn't believe how many people actually think it is...), it does revolve around opera, and Christine is an opera singer, not a pop star.

And now onto... Everyone's favourite vicomte!!!!!!

C'mon people, put your bottles down. It is a truth universally acknowledged (or at least in the wee Raoul Defense Squad Circle) that Raoul is one of the greatest and most underrated boyfriends to ever exist in musical theatre and it's almost impossible to hate him because of how relatable he is.

Ladies, puh-leeze. He's much more relatable than you admit and face it, we all have a little bit of Raoul in us. Failure to see things staring us in the face, saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, having a 'see it to believe it' attitude when we have little-to-no evidence on something... yeah, don't pretend you don't see a trend. Raoul is relatable whether we want him to be or not.

My thoughts on Patrick Wilson as Raoul, he was one of the few redeeming qualities of this not so great movie. Yeah, the swordfight and Tarzan leaps were a little too much but can you blame him?! And though I feel like that foppish wig made him look more like a magic elf prince than a vicomte, he couldn't control that!

His Raoul was so gentle and caring! Yeah, his acting was a bit stiff but at least his voice wasn't a chore to listen to, it has this warm, tender, comforting quality to it which suits Raoul. I really loved the way he sang "Don't throw away your life for my sake" and "I fought so hard to free you" in the Final Lair (😭😭😭) It feels like Raoul is genuinely apologising to Christine.

I know, I know... The Hadley Fraser fans are approaching with menacing expressions as we speak but let me clarify. I still think Hadley is amazing but... His Raoul kinda felt a little too shouty for me and his Raoul was closer to the LND-canon than POTO-canon (not his fault though).

Miranda Richardson (aka. Rita Skeeter) as Madame Giry is kind of weird. I mean, I know Madame Giry's supposed to be a little Strange and Mysterious. But this Mme. wasn't really Strange or Mysterious at all, or even slightly Spooky at all. She was just kind of an oddball. Popping up in random places to give warnings about the Phantom and looking at people as if she were questioning their life choices or something. As for her daughter... well, Jennifer Ellison's Meg was so-so. She's got a sweet-sounding voice and that added scene where she looked for Christine in the lair was a nice touch... But... Her Meg was kinda forgettable and uninteresting. Meg is supposed to prance around shrieking that the Phantom of the Opera is here, not whisper it in a blase manner that you half expect to be followed up with, "by the way, what's for lunch?" Not to mention, she rivaled Christine as far as low-necked costumes went.

Minnie Driver as Carlotta was spot on! Yes, I know she didn't sing the score but her acting was alright. She was very over-the-top and self-centered, which is great for Carlotta, but I felt her portrayal was a little too childish to be accurate. Carlotta is a successful middle-aged diva who's willing to scream and storm when she doesn't get her way, but she isn't a two-year-old pouting and throwing tantrums. (Yes, there's a difference.)

Ciaran Hinds and Simon Callow played Firmin and Andre, respectively. Their managers kinda felt like twits and nothing more. Also, Firmin's masquerade costume was ridiculous. The stupid kind, not the funny kind. ...Well, okay, it was a little funny.

I'm not going to touch on every song here, but I will say that "Hannibal" was beyond awful (if you thought the costumes in the stage version were a bit risque, you should see the movie ones- no, actually you shouldn't) and that "Think of Me," while very nice, was not particularly memorable. Christine's dress, however (despite its less-than-ideal neckline) was GORGEOUS, even though it looks completely out of place in a musical that supposedly takes place in ancient Alexandria.

"Little Lotte" kinda lost its charm by being spoken instead of sung. And Gerard Butler's voice in "The Mirror" was too rough and raspy for my ears and made me cringe in sympathetic shame. The title song was like a cheesy, campy B-grade horror movie tbh, trying way too hard to be spooky and chilling ("ooh, look, Phantom's Lair! It's DARK and SCARY down here!") and succeeding only in being cringeworthy. Not that I've actually ever seen a bad horror movie- or any horror movie at all, for that matter. Unless you count this one.

Christine's costume, too, annoyed me no end. She was basically wearing a corset and drawers under the dressing gown. *facepalm* The dressing gown is supposed to go OVER your COSTUME to keep it CLEAN, peeps. It's not a BATHROBE. And the amount of eye makeup she had on would terrify a raccoon. Yikes.

Though I liked the random horse because of its nod to the Leroux novel.

"Music of the Night" was so blah-slash-touchy-feely that it made me summarily uncomfortable.

I'd like to be able to say something nice about "I remember/Stranger than you dreamt it" but I have none. One thing that bugged me to no end was how Christine is no longer wearing stockings, like dude, that gives some GROSS implications. Anyways, let's skip to Il Muto!

Oh, but first I should say that "Notes" was rather a flop and that "Prima Donna" is unmemorable and indeed should probably be fast-forwarded as there's a rather unsavory bit involving a crew member showing the audience what he thinks of Carlotta's behaviour.

"Il Muto," I must say, was pretty doggone funny. Carlotta's "Your part is silent. Leetle toad," cracked me up into a bunch of giggling little pieces, and the little vignette of the Phantom tinkering with Carlotta's throat spray made her croaking later on a lot more believable.

Now for "All I Ask Of You", SQUEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! I honestly can't understand how anyone could listen to this song and still maintain that Christine and Raoul don't belong together. He represents everything she needs- stability, protection, a guiding hand and affirmed affection. She represents everything he needs, in turn- someone to show affection to and his childhood friend.

One thing I definitely think could have been left out was the scene in which Erik kills Buquet- we totally did not need to see him being chased, terrified, through the rafters and finally strangled. Gross.

And the Phantom and his rose crouching behind that statue... I think this was supposed to be sad, but there was too much snot mixed with tears for it to be sad. It was, again, gross. So was Gerard Butler's pathetic attempt at the "all that the Phantom asked of you" line. And the lack of a chandelier crash in that scene made the song anticlimactic.

And "Masquerade" was so-so but... The Phantom's entrance is anticlimactic somehow, and his Red Death costume (if indeed it's supposed to even BE the Red Death) is unimpressive. I don't like how Raoul just runs off to desert Christine as soon as things start looking ugly (yes, I realize he was going to get his sword, but still... something could have happened to her while he was gone. Duh, did this guy learn anything from "Little Lotte/The Mirror"? Just sayin)

As for Madame Giry's flashback immediately following, I like how it gives us some of the Phantom's backstory, but it seems really abrupt. You don't even realize until she's done that she was talking to Raoul the whole time- it sounds like she's just randomly reminiscing about Stuff, and if you didn't know the story you might be sitting there thinking, "who is this strange woman again?"

Also, Christine leaving wherever-it-is at, like, five in the morning to go to who-knows-where, completely oblivious to the fact that the Phantom is driving her. Whaaaaaaaaa? How'd he know she was planning to go for a graveyard stroll? Was he watching her through the mirror again? THAT'S JUST CREEPY.

"Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" was rather mediocre and dulled down the fact that it is a Christine Empowerment™ song. Why, exactly, does Christine's father have the biggest monument in the cemetery? If he were a rich and famous violinist as his crypt seems to suggest, why on earth was his daughter struggling along as a chorus girl taking free music lessons?

The swordfight... Well... I had mixed feelings about it. Sword fights are all well and good, but... The swordfight takes away the element of mysterious danger to the Phantom. Okay, fine, Christine getting Raoul to spare the Phantom's life is a nice touch, I guess, but did it strike no one else that his "now let it be war upon you BOTH" makes absolutely NO sense after that? If she just saved his life, why would he suddenly be all, "thanks, but no thanks, I'M GOING TO MURDER YOUUUUUUUUUU"?

And "Twisted Every Way" was after "Wishing" which made ZERO sense. Plus, I didn't like how they cut most of it because in the musical, it gave Christine a spine!

"Point of No Return"? Hooooooo boy....... There are so many things wrong with this number. Let's just a list a few.

*HOW did no one recognise the Phantom through his "disguise"?! At least in the stage play, it made more sense because of how he was wearing a cloak that obscured most of his body.

*Christine's sleeves falling down over and over again were REALLY annoying.

*It was just too touchy-feely for my taste.

*The fact that Emmy Rossum was a teenager during filming made this scene gross because of the way they oversexualized Christine in this scene.

*Gerard Butler's voice in that scene made me cringe and shake my head in sympathetic shame.

*In the stage play, Christine ran from him, showing her own agenda and resistance to his pull! While in the movie, she didn't resist him!

*Now for the one that took the cake... The disfigurement! Or it would be a disfigurement if it actually made him look, y'know, deformed. Instead, as several people have put it, he looks like he got a bad sunburn or something. It's really rather pathetic. It makes him look more like a drama queen than he already is! Yeah.... I really don't like this movie.

On to... Final Lair!!!!!!!! It was a flop. From Raoul's whining and flailing around and his stringy hair flopping about (shallow complaint, I know, but it's so ugly) to Christine's sappy melodramatic "don't make me choooooooose" faces to the Phantom's prancing around with his ropes and maniacal laughter that somehow wasn't really scary at all... yeah, it was a flop. A major, major flop. And though The Kiss wasn't all that bad, all I could think of was, "She's SIXTEEN! SIX! TEEN! THIS IS CREEPY, DISTURBING AND GROSS!"

Which is why it's so difficult for me to admit that, um, I... cried at the end.

I COULDN'T HELP IT GUYS HE WAS ALL ALONE THERE IN HIS LAKE WITH HIS MONKEY AND HIS SMASHED MIRRORS AND HE WAS CRYING AND IT WAS SAD.

And then that rose on the gravestone? That single red rose? And the look on Old Raoul's face (still Patrick Wilson, by the way, under all that makeup) when he saw it and realized he wasn't the only one visiting Christine's grave? Yup, I lost it again there, too. And I really didn't want to. Because I tend to cry over movies I love, y'know? And I didn't love this movie. At all

Yet I still cried at the end. I'm not really sure why. I think perhaps it had something to do with the way the story still "got" me, deep down inside, despite the lousy casting and less-than-perfect singing and ridiculously unnecessary elements that totally didn't need to be there. It's still a tragically beautiful romance, and even a bad film can't kill that.

In conclusion, I think Mary Poppins can best express what I thought of POTO 2004.

In conclusion, I rate it a 2.7/5

#Grace spills tea #grace speaks #poto 2004 #phantom of the opera musical #phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #Phantom of the opera 2004 #movie review #my reviews

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