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heyheydidjaknow · 1 year

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It only took me like 8 months to write a follow-up to Good Wine. It has sat gathering dust and it will gather dust no longer. Granted I'm not particularly happy with it but when am I ever? It's a yandere Venti x reader, so read the tags.

Incomprehensible

You were not talking to him.

He jotted another note on the sheet in front of him, mumbling potential lyrics to himself. He understood that the first few months would be the most difficult as you became acclimated to your situation, and all things considered, you were taking things fairly well. You did not try to jump again, opting to instead sit by the mouth of the cave and read to pass the time. When he brought food back, you ate it and did not try to vomit it back up like you had the first week. He had managed to grab more things from your home for you to decorate the space, and the wall now had a painting on it, which was progress. Sure, you had not said a word to him in that time and did not sleep when he was in the room, but that was fine for now; of the two of you, he was reasonably confident you would be the first to fold.

He looked over at you, sat, like usual, with your legs dangling over the ledge. He knew that the thing to do was to wait you out, that if he wanted you to talk to him he needed to make you. Of the two of you, he was the one still allowed to talk to people; you would come asking for reassurance at some point. The only issue was the odd emptiness in his chest. He had been used to talking to you nearly every day. He had expected yelling and crying and glaring. He was not ready to be without you entirely.

But this was for the best. You would crack eventually

He heard you, bare feet on stone, walk towards him. He pretended not to notice as you sat down beside him. “Can I ask you something?”

He looked up, as if surprised. “Hm? Oh, of course.”

You wrung your hands. “What do people think happened to me?”

He blinked, confused by the question.

You sighed, frustrated already. “People would be worried about me if they thought I was missing. That doesn’t help your cause at all, so what do people think happened to me?”

He carefully moved his writings aside, ink still drying. “I’ll tell you if you let me hug you.”

You stared at him as if he had grown a third head.

He kept his gaze steady. “We’ve hugged before. I don’t think it’s unreasonable.” He turned his body to face you, crisscrossing his legs. “But I have no intention of forcing you either way; I’m perfectly fine with waiting for you to come around.”

You opened your mouth to protest, paused. You stared back out the mouth of the cave. “What do they think happened to me?”

He felt his whole body relax. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your neck and pulling himself into your lap. “You ran away.” He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, fighting the urge to cry out in relief; there was a chance. “I tried to talk you out of it, but you said that you needed to find your own way in the world and that you wanted to take time to explore the world. You only took what you could carry and went off on your way and I swore not to tell anyone where you were going. That way, if something happened so that you could go back, you could.”

You were stiff under him. “Has anyone tried looking for me?”

He nodded. “They tried for two weeks and then decided that it was your life and to not get involved.”

“And they know you know where I am?”

He leaned back to look at you properly. “They do.”

You refused to make eye contact. “What do I have to do to send them a letter to let them know I’m fine?”

“What do you need to do?” He considered it. “Well,” his voice lowered, “I would have to think about it. Let's see…” He gave you a once over. “I’ll give them a letter if you promise to talk to me again.”

“About what?”

He sighed. “Whatever we used to talk about: the weather, music, anything.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t think we need to set an exact time.” He smiled softly. “I just miss hearing your voice.” He cleared his throat; even now he was worried about coming on too strong. “You’ll need to prove you’re good for it first.” He held up a finger. “One week of cordiality for one letter. One letter a week is realistic, wouldn’t you say?”

You looked at a spot on the floor. “Will you read me any letters if I get them?”

“I’ll tell you what they say.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

“Excellent.” He sighed. “Now, that isn’t too much trouble, is it?”

You kept your arms behind you, keeping yourself sat upright. “More trouble than it’s worth.”

He laughed despite your obvious displeasure. “Well, when you get used to being here more I’m sure you’ll come around to just talking to me.”

“I doubt it.” You licked your teeth. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

You looked back out the cave’s mouth. “Is this a new thing for you?”

He cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Kidnapping people,” you clarified simply. “Have you kidnapped someone before?”

He considered the question, turning it around and trying to answer it in such a way that it may become more palatable. “I’ve never gone this far with anyone, no.” He let his head fall back to the crook of your neck. “I would have never fantasized about being so intimate with someone before now.”

“Lucky me.”

He smiled against your skin, rueful. “It takes quite a bit to turn someone against their own core ideals. I can’t speak to how I’d feel about it personally, but I could imagine it being at least somewhat flattering.”

You did not dignify him with a response.

“In all seriousness,” he continued, “I recognize that my position as your captor is self-inflicted. I don’t ever expect you to feel bad for me if you think that’s what I’m trying to do.”

“At least you’re smart enough to figure that much out.”

He nodded. “I’ve thought this very far through.”

“For how long?”

“A year, maybe.” He shrugged. “Long enough to think and disregard the consequences.”

“Long enough to realize you’re acting as my Decarabiun?”

“Long enough to accept and come to terms with it.”

You relaxed further into your arms, shoulders rising closer to your ears. “And your excuse is that I’m mortal? That this is better for me?”

“Exactly.”

He heard you pause, then, “So you understand how awful this must feel? For you to take such a significant portion of my life away?”

His grip around your neck tightened slightly. “I do.”

“And you’re doing it anyway?”

“I am.”

Your voice remained steady. “And you recognize how cruel that is?”

His answer was simple. “Yes.”

Your head fell back, staring up at the ceiling. “You’re a monster.”

He smiled weakly. “I wouldn’t say that.” One hand made its way into your hair, gently tugging at the strands. “I would say that it simply speaks to my desperation.”

You scoffed. “People can be lonely.”

“People only live half a century.” He twisted a piece of it around his finger. “I sleep for great stretches and the time still goes excruciatingly slow. To not be known or loved by anyone— that is a struggle one might endure for a century, not millennia.” He snorted. “I mean, any suffering for that long grows excruciating after a while. Have you ever heard of water torture?”

“You couldn’t find a partner in millennia?”

That got a full laugh out of him. “I am either an archon against my will— too high or holy to be held captive by such things as human desires— or a foolish drunkard too intoxicated by drink or song to be interested in a lover. Why would anyone want to get to know me?”

“I got to know you.”

“And you were one of two exceptions in more than two millennia.” His free hand fell from your shoulders, instead gently gripping the front of your shirt. “The first has been dead for the majority of that time, and what I felt for him cannot be compared to what I feel for you.”

You did not respond.

“It’s hard to describe in terms you will be able to understand how it feels to be unknown for so long.” He leaned his head forward so that his forehead rested on his collarbone. “I imagine that is why you cannot understand why I have done this to you; how could one explain how an excuse as juvenile as, ‘I was lonely,’ could justify what I am taking.” He swallowed, forcing his voice not to waver; connection and communication at this stage were vital, and as effective as his genuine tears would be as a tactic for emotional manipulation it would be seen as much further down the line. “But the loneliness that comes from an eternity of isolation, of both invisibility and an uncomfortably high amount of scrutiny, is enough to make anyone lose themselves. A younger version of myself would be horrified by my actions; now, I understand how I have come to the conclusion that I need as much to not search far and wide for a cure to my immortality.” His voice lowered to just above a whisper. “And in the depths of my despair, so tired and alone and cold that I had come to accept as much as a common ache, you met me, approached me, saw me in a way nobody else had, an act which likely meant very little to you but meant the world to me.” He pursed his lips together, taking slow, deep breaths to suppress the impending tears. “But that must seem silly to you as a mortal being, not because of a lack of intelligence, but because you are physically incapable of comprehending how long and how agonizing millennia are as stretches of time, and I’m sorry for that.” He tugged on the bottom of your shirt, playing absently with the fabric. “And it is because I am so sorry that you are paying for a crime you have not committed that I am trying to let you acclimate, to not force myself onto you, which is as much as I can offer and that is still the bare minimum.”

The two of you sat in silence for a time.

“You could let me go.”

He let out a long sigh, relaxing into you. “I couldn’t. Not now.”

Your voice was soft. “You won’t, you mean.”

“Exactly.”

You lowered the two of you down, first to your elbows, then onto your back. “How long have I been here?”

His legs splayed on either side of you. “Two weeks.”

“Two weeks,” you repeated, dazed. “It’s felt like longer.”

“It always does.”

Your chest rose and fell gently underneath him. “Will I end up like you?”

“Inevitably.”

You propped your head up, resting your head on your arm. “And that’s when I’ll need you.”

“Yes,” he breathed.

Your voice cracked. “That’s horrible.”

His eyes slid shut. “It is. Not that we have a choice, either way.”

There was a chance. He could see it.

#venti x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere barbatos #yandere venti #yandere venti x reader #yandere barbatos x reader #tw kidnap mention #tw kidnapping #tw mention of attempted suicide #tw emotional manipulation #yandere x you #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact venti #shoutout to tomayto to being one of few people to ever ask for a follow up to a thing I’ve written

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fangirlwriting-stories · 5 months

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Training

Summary: Danny checks in on Sam and Tucker, while Sam and Tucker take the first steps into a world of ghost hunting that they don't understand.

Author's Note: Hey, just a heads up that the next installment is probably gonna take a bit longer than the other ones in this series have. It ended up needing more than one chapter to work for the next part of the story, and I'd like to finish all of them before posting to make sure they flow and fit well together. So you'll have a bit longer to wait, but you do get longer updates out of it!

...

Sam and Tucker aren’t at school the next day, but they show up the following day, and it’s a little ridiculous how relieved Danny is to see them. The second he spots them in the hallway, he walks right over, trying to keep the smile off his face, because they might still not be doing too hot.

But it’s impossible to keep himself from smiling just a little bit as he approaches. “Hey, guys, how you holdin’ up?” he asks.

“Fine,” Sam says, then starts towards her locker without saying anything else. Tucker walks after her, looking uncomfortable, but neither of them object when Danny follows them.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to help the other night,” he says as they reach Sam’s locker, because he still has to say it.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sam says, though her tone is clipped. “We made it out fine. We weren’t even hurt, and it’s not like you could have done anything.”

She wouldn’t be saying that if she—

Shut up.

“Still,” Danny says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Getting captured sucks. I mean, I’d know.” He’s aiming for joking, but the tone falls flat.

Sam turns and looks at him for a second, and he can’t read her face. But then she just says, “Yeah,” and turns to grab her books.

The warning bell rings overhead, and Sam slams her locker shut and walks away without a word.

“Hey,” Danny says before Tucker can do the same. Tucker turns to him, startled.

“Is she okay?” Danny asks, looking after Sam. “I mean, after everything that’s happened, I wouldn’t blame her if she was a little freaked.”

Tucker opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything, and after a second, Danny narrows his eyes in concern.

“Are you okay, Tuck?” he asks.

The second bell rings.

“Whoops, late for class,” Tucker says, ignoring his question entirely. “See ya, Danny.”

“See ya,” Danny says, looking worriedly after him for a second before he turns to walk to class too.

Man, is this what Tucker feels when he refuses to talk about what’s going on with him? If so, Danny totally gets it.

He’s still not going to tell them he’s Phantom until he’s at least somewhat sure it won’t go over absolutely terribly, but he does get it.

He’s also not going to push them to tell him anything for that exact reason, though. He wasn’t that big of a hypocrite.

So, when Tucker and Sam are quiet and a little weird in class, he doesn’t ask. He just gives them an understanding smile and focuses back on what they’re working on.

It’s during lunch when things change. Danny’s attempting to make it easy on them both by filling the silence, but not much has happened in his life lately— at least, that he can talk about. So what he ends up doing is complaining about the essay he’s going to have to write in English. Tucker’s in that class too, but even so he can tell it’s not working well. Tucker’s poking at his food and not even touching the meat on his tray, and Sam just seems tense and almost angry.

He’s debating switching the topic to the horror movie they saw two Fridays ago, which is the one thing he’s actually done outside of school in a while, when Sam suddenly speaks up.

“Hey Tucker,” she says, cutting Danny off in the middle of a sentence and turning to face Tucker sitting next to her. “You want to go to Nasty Burger after school?”

Danny blinks, trying to figure out what just happened.

Tucker seems surprised too, turning to Sam with a confused look. “Huh?”

“Oh, no offense to you, Danny,” Sam says, turning to him like she’s just thought of it. “It’s just, you won’t be able to go for a while and after yesterday I think I need to do something fun.”

Danny blinks again, then processes what she said. “Oh. Oh, yeah, of course,” he says, waving it off despite the pinch in his chest. “Don’t worry about it. Go do whatever you need to.”

“Thanks,” Sam says, then turns casually back to Tucker. “You want to come?”

“Uh,” Tucker says, looking down. “Sure.”

Then he looks hesitantly up at Danny, who sends him his best attempt at a reassuring smile. Of course he’s not going to be bothered by them doing things without him. He can’t expect them to wait for him forever, and he’s not going to keep them from doing things they want to. Especially not after last night.

Tucker doesn’t seem to relax much, but Sam does, and the next second she sits up and starts talking. She’s also just talking about schoolwork, but it’s enough to make Danny think brushing this off was the right move, even if the idea of them going without him stings a little.

Either way, he ignores the sting and lets Sam talk as long as she wants to, which turns out to be the rest of lunch. She goes on several rants about teachers and the lack of environmental awareness involved in the assignments they give out. One of the teachers apparently prints way more handouts than needed. It’s normal enough that it calms Danny’s nerves a little and makes him smile. Sam seems to be doing okay, mostly.

(There is a bandage on her wrist where her wrist ray usually sits, and she keeps picking at it. But Danny gets the sense that bringing it up would be a really bad idea.)

Tucker’s still quieter than normal, but that’s nothing unexpected. Whether they got away easily or not, getting captured by a ghost is never fun. It’s understandable that he’s still a little shaken by it.

The rest of the day passes fairly easily, and in the classes he has with Sam and Tucker, they both seem a little more themselves.

When the end of the day rolls around, Danny looks for them in the hallway, but he doesn’t see them until he’s near the front doors, where Sam is pulling Tucker out of them very quickly, likely heading straight for Nasty Burger.

Danny sighs, and lets them go without trying to catch up with them.

“Hey, Danny,” comes Jazz’s voice, and Danny turns to see her approaching, with her bag already on and a couple books clutched in her hands. “I saw Sam and Tucker earlier, how are they doing?”

Danny turns to look over his shoulder, but he can’t see either of them anymore.

“Fine,” he says to Jazz, turning back around. “I think. I don’t know. Hey uh, do you have anything going on this afternoon? I think I need a distraction.”

…

“So this is what we’re doing now, then?” Tucker asks as he and Sam walk right past the Nasty Burger. Sam is looking down at the address on the business card they got two days ago, and following a set of directions to it she’s written down on a piece of paper.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asks without looking at him. “We already agreed we’d be doing this.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Tucker says. “You didn’t have to come up with the Nasty Burger excuse. Danny already had to go home right after school, you could have just not said anything.”

“And?” Sam asks, firm and harsh and in a tone that very strongly announces the conversation is over.

Tucker doesn’t say anything, just follows Sam as she turns around a corner.

“Almost there,” Sam says after a second, and Tucker looks around to see if he can spot anything that seems like what they’re looking for.

But no, the street they’re walking down seems pretty standard. There’s mostly houses, and what looks like a small park.

Sam, however, doesn’t acknowledge any of them, and eventually she stops in front of one of the houses. She looks back and forth between the address on the building and the business card in her hand a couple times, then says to Tucker, “This is it.”

She walks up before Tucker can say anything and knocks on the door.

There’s no immediate response, and after a good ten seconds pass and nothing happens, Sam rings the doorbell.

Another five seconds pass, but then before Tucker can suggest knocking again, or maybe calling the phone number, or maybe going home and never coming back ever again, the door opens, and there stands Vlad Masters.

“Children, what a delightful surprise,” he says, with an obvious tension in his voice. “You came at the perfect time, I wasn’t at all in the middle of something.”

“Oh, well in that case we can come back later, right Sam?” Tucker asks, giving her a nervous smile. “So let’s go and—”

“Nonsense,” Vlad says, waving him off. “It’s hardly an inconvenience. If anything I should be the one being flexible for you two, you’ve been through so much already. Please, do come in.”

Tucker bites his lip, pretty sure he’s doing a terrible job at hiding his nerves. Sam looks much more collected next to him, and when she turns to look at him, her eyes narrow into a glare.

She’s holding him to this, then.

He’s pretty sure he’s holding himself to this, too.

So when Sam turns and starts up the stairs, Tucker follows her, and Vlad follows them both in, shutting the door behind them all.

What looked like a normal house from the outside, however, looks like anything but from the inside.

Vlad appears to have no furniture whatsoever, and instead has turned the house into some sort of training grounds. There’s what looks like a sparring ring off to the left, a section on the right with rings and obstacles attached to the ceiling, which Tucker has no idea how they’ll access, and a large area in the middle with punching bags and targets made to look like ghosts.

It’s all more than a little overwhelming, if Tucker’s being honest, and all he can think to say is, “No one said there’d be exercise.”

“Please, you could do with some exercise,” Sam says, turning to face him. “Considering the state the rest of your health habits are in.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! Just because you have a love affair with vegetables doesn’t mean I have to!”

“There’s a difference between not loving then and not eating any of them,” Sam says with a smirk.

“Oh come on—”

A loud thump sounds on the opposite side of the room, and they both turn to see Vlad setting two boxes down on a table with what looks like a bunch of lab and engineering equipment on it.

“I had these whipped up by a billionaire friend of mine,” Vlad says, turning to face them and gesturing at the boxes. “They’re for you, they should help.”

“What do you mean?” Tucker asks.

Vlad just gestures at the boxes again, and Sam walks over the table and pulls one of the boxes open. Her eyes widen, and then she turns to the other one and pulls it open.

“You just had someone make these?” she asks, turning to Vlad.

“What?” Tucker asks, feeling hesitant to walk over.

“Come see,” Sam says, waving him forward.

Tucker winces, but walks over to Sam and peers down into the boxes she’s looking at. Sitting in each of the boxes is what looks like some kind of battle suit, one of them purple and one red, with obvious padding, and guns that look like much more dangerous versions of Sam’s wrist ray.

“Wait,” Tucker says, turning to look at Vlad. “Are these for us?”

“Well obviously I’m not going to send either of you into battle empty-handed,” Vlad says. “And I had the money to spare. If you didn’t want them, it would have been no real loss.”

“I call the purple one,” Sam says immediately.

“Wait,” Tucker says, grabbing her hand and pulling it back. “Battle? Like, like we’re going to be fighting… what exactly? Ghosts? Are we still just talking about Danny?”

“Well unfortunately, the most likely time you’ll be able to find Daniel in his ghost form is during other ghost attacks,” Vlad says. “So that, naturally, is what all of this is for.” He gestures around them at the training grounds. “And of course, they can fly, so you shouldn’t have to worry about any more sudden plunges to your death.” He prefaces the last part with a nod at Sam, who clenches her fists tightly and looks down at the suits again.

Tucker casts his gaze around at everything a second time— the sparring ring, the punching bags, the obstacle course on the ceiling. He takes a shaky breath. All of this is starting to feel a little more real than he’s prepared for.

He looks over at Sam again when she takes a deep breath. Her fists start shaking for a brief second before she tightens them more, some kind of fierce determination entering her eyes. After a second, she steps forward again.

“I call the purple one,” she says firmly, and picks up the box.

“Of course,” Vlad says. “But here, let me show you how to put it on. It’s built to shrink down so you can bring it with you.”

He pulls the suit out of the box and hits a button, and then it shrinks down into a bracelet that he hands back to Sam. Sam puts it on her wrist, and then at Vlad’s instruction, hits a button on it. The whole suit appears around her in what feels like half a second. Well shit, those things are efficient.

Vlad pulls the other suit out of the box, then shrinks it down to a bracelet and holds it out to Tucker.

Tucker looks at it for a long second.

Vlad raises an eyebrow. “Are you backing out now?” he asks. There doesn’t seem to be any judgment in his voice, but Tucker’s stomach still lurches with guilt. He shakes his head, reaching out to take the bracelet.

He slips it on and hits the button, and he feels the suit expand rapidly, fitting around his limbs like it was made for him specifically— which, well, he supposes it was.

He looks over at Sam, and finds he can’t see her face through the suit anymore.

“You should be able to talk to each other through the headsets that are built in,” Vlad says. “They’ll have voice modulators so you won’t have to worry about Daniel figuring out who you are. And I can set it up to connect to Valerie as well, once you meet her.”

Tucker turns to Vlad in surprise.

“Valerie Gray,” he confirms with a nod. “I’m sure you’ve seen her around. She has a red suit like yours. I imagine you three will be working together quite a bit.”

Valerie is the other ghost hunter Vlad mentioned? Tucker has a pretty good idea he knows what he means by the red suit. Now that he’s looking at his and Sam’s, there’s definitely a similarity in design. But he hadn’t known she’d been working with Vlad all this time. Honestly, Tucker isn’t sure what to make of that. He barely knows Valerie, really just having seen her a couple times around school.

And now they’re going to be working together to hunt down and hurt Tucker’s best friend.

Does she even know Danny is Phantom? He supposes he’ll find out soon enough.

“Well then,” Vlad says, clapping his hands together and turning to move the boxes off of the table. “Shall we get started?”

…

“Oh hell yeah,” Danny says, grinning down at the speedometer in Jazz’s hand. “112 miles an hour?”

“That’s what it says,” Jazz says with a smile of her own. “You’re pretty fast, little brother.”

“Pretty fast? That’s almost faster than Dad driving the Ghost Assault Vehicle!” Danny says with a grin.

Training with Jazz was absolutely the right move. They’ve been down in the lab all afternoon and he’s barely thought about Tucker and Sam having fun without him once. And it has the added bonus of meaning Jazz will stop pestering him about practicing.

Yeah, he has needed to run drills for a while. But in his defense, they’re not usually this fun. He’s never done them with Jazz before. Having someone there to help keep track of his progress, to push him harder, and maybe a little bit to show off for, actually helps a lot. And granted, he’s never had someone to hold up a speedometer, but he’s still pretty sure he’s never gone that fast before.

“Clearly I should be a racer,” Danny says to Jazz. “A ghost racer. Do ghosts have races? They totally should.”

Jazz laughs. “Oh you’d kill them for sure,” she says with a smirk.

Danny gapes at her. “Jazz! Was that a pun? You’re learning!”

“Ha ha,” Jazz says. “You know, if you’re just gonna make fun of me, I could just point out that your duplication still needs work.”

Danny blew a raspberry at her. But a second later, he sighs. “Yeah, I know,” he admits. “Vlad could do it, like, effortlessly when he first showed me. But so far the best I can do is get to the point where I can eat two nasty burgers at once.” Which honestly he probably shouldn’t have said, because now he’s thinking about Sam and Tucker again.

“Wow, thanks, I really didn’t need that image,” Jazz says, a slightly disgusted look on his face. Danny laughs, distracted enough to focus back on Jazz.

“Honestly, I’m not sure how long it’ll take before I get it down,” he says, though he doesn’t like admitting it. “I mean, Vlad’s had like 20 years to practice. Who knows when he figured out duplication.”

“That’s true,” Jazz says. “But all you can do is keep trying. You’ve managed at least one milestone from learning it was possible.”

“I guess that’s true too,” Danny says with a smile. “And I think I really have gotten better.”

“You have since I started paying attention,” Jazz agrees. “I’m proud of you.”

“Jazz, what did we say about the sappiness?” Danny says, dropping to the floor and changing back into his human form, since they seem to be wrapping up training with how much they’re talking.

“Hey, this is how I do things,” Jazz says, crossing her arms. “If you didn’t want emotional support you shouldn’t have told me your secret.”

“I didn’t tell you, you found out on your own!”

“And then you decided to tell me,” Jazz says, starting for the steps. “Which totally counts.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Danny says, rolling her eyes as he follows her up.

They timed it right, because as they both reach the kitchen the door bangs open and both of their parents barge in, fully equipped in ghost gear from a day of hunting around town. (Which didn’t result in anything. Danny knows because if it had he would have been there.)

“Hey kids,” Mom says with a bright smile as she walks into the kitchen. “How was school today? Have Sam and Tucker come back yet? Danny, you reminded them to come over to get checked out, didn’t you?”

“Uh, totally Mom,” Danny lies. “They’re just both super busy. They’re really piling on the homework lately.”

“Safety is even more important, hun,” Mom says. “Just make sure they get here sooner rather than later.”

“Mom, I really don’t think they’re displaying any signs of being affected,” Danny says. “They didn’t even say the ghost attacked them. I think they’re okay.”

Mom sighs, but she doesn’t look happy about it. “Alright, sweetie,” she says. “Just let us know if anything changes, okay?”

“Or the second they need to be put through lots of painful tests for their own good,” Dad says, giving Danny a firm nod.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Danny says, while simultaneously writing off the possibility forever.

“Honestly, you two need to cool it sometimes,” Jazz says, in a casual tone that could easily be written off as a joke. Danny knows she doesn’t mean it like one, though. “Sam and Tucker aren’t hurt. Who’s to say this ghost even wanted to hurt them?”

Both of their parents burst out laughing, and Danny and Jazz exchange a glance.

“Jazz, sweetie, it’s a ghost,” Mom says, waving her hand dismissively. “Of course it was trying to hurt them.”

“You don’t even know which one it was!” Jazz groans, but their parents have already moved on, heading over towards the fridge as they start discussing dinner.

Danny shrugs at Jazz. “Good try.”

Jazz huffs but doesn’t say anything else.

“Maddie,” Dad says a second later, drawing both their attention. “The hot dogs have teeth again.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Mom says, moving Jack aside to peer into the fridge. After a second, she sighs.

“Alright, I’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow,” she says, closing the fridge. “Do you kids want to go get dinner out?”

“But Maddie, we’ll miss out on your terrific cooking,” Dad says, sounding disappointed.

“The terrific cooking that makes hot dogs come to life?” Jazz mutters under her breath. Danny elbows her lightly in the side.

“Well, we can’t exactly eat those, no matter what we do to cook them,” Mom says. “We can go to Nasty Burger, we haven’t been there in a while. Is that alright with you two?” she asks, glancing over at Danny and Jazz.

Well, Danny would have actually preferred to eat somewhere that didn’t remind him of Sam and Tucker’s comparatively effortless social life when looking at his own continued house arrest, but he’s also not going to turn down going out to eat, so he nods.

“That’s fine with me,” Jazz says.

“Alright, we’ll head out in ten minutes, then,” Mom says. “We’ll meet you kids back down here.”

“Sounds good,” Danny says, and he and Jazz head upstairs for a minute.

Dinner at Nasty Burger is probably a good idea for multiple reasons, actually. A large greasy meal will give him the energy he needs to go on a longer patrol tonight, and he’s already decided he’s going to be extra cautious, at least for the next couple days. It’ll help him feel better about not being there for Tucker and Sam, and also make sure that whatever ghost captured them doesn’t stick around too long.

And at 112 miles an hour, he’s pretty sure he can do it in a fast enough time that even Jazz can’t get on his case about losing sleep.

…

Tucker and Sam actually do end up at Nasty Burger, funnily enough. And Tucker ends up with another reason he doesn’t exercise.

“See, this just proves my point,” he groans, head on the table as he tries not to focus on how all of his muscles ache.

Training with Vlad is apparently no picnic. And figuring out how the suits work isn’t exactly easy. They’re complicated, and hard to maneuver. He feels like he has a bit better of a handle on it now, but nowhere near enough to actually fight in it.

“Well maybe if you actually tried in gym class once in a while,” Sam says, but Tucker can tell she’s exhausted too. She’s barely touched her tofu burger, and keeps twisting her new bracelet back and forth on her wrist. He keeps worrying she’s gonna hit something and the suit’s going to pop up, but so far she’s managed to keep her hand far away from the button that does so.

Still, her comment bugs him a little bit. It’s not like he was the only one who had no clue what he was doing today.

“Look, can you not make fun of me for once?” he says, narrowing his eyes at her. “You slipped up more than twice on that ceiling obstacle course too.”

Sam glares at him for a second, then sighs. “Alright, yeah,” she sighs, slumping down in the booth. “Sorry.”

Tucker sighs too. “It’s okay,” he mutters. “I’m just… are we really doing this?”

“Yes, we’re really doing this,” Sam says, back to glaring at him. “We can’t back out now.”

Tucker opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, the door to the Nasty Burger opens, and Tucker half glances over, then feels all the blood drain from his face.

“Tucker?” Sam asks, noticing and sitting up. “What is it?”

“Sam? Tucker?” Danny asks, walking over as he notices them, and Sam whirls around. “You guys are still here?”

“Yes!” Tucker says, at the same time Sam says “No!”

Danny raises an eyebrow, and looks back and forth between them both.

“Oh hey guys,” says Mrs. Fenton before Danny can say anything, approaching over Danny’s shoulder. “What a fun surprise seeing you here! We just decided to take the kids out for dinner as a treat, but it’s so nice that you’re here too! Do you mind if we squeeze in?”

“Not at all!” Tucker says, before Sam can say something rude and suspicious and make them all think something is off.

So in the next couple minutes, they find a way to somehow fit all six of them in the booth, with Sam squished into one side with Mr. Fenton and Jazz, and Danny, Mrs. Fenton, and Tucker on the other.

Danny manages to catch Tucker’s eye and mouth “Sorry,” and Tucker waves him off with another pinch of guilt in his chest.

“But really, I thought you guys were coming here straight after school,” he says to Tucker as his parents and sister order food. “Why are you still here?”

“Sir, your order?” the waiter asks, sounding very tired.

“Oh, just a regular nasty burger and fries please,” Danny says with a slightly apologetic smile at him.

“Coming right up,” he says, before he heads off with all the new orders.

“We left and then came back,” Sam says, leaning across the table to catch Danny’s eye, before shooting half a glance at Tucker. “My parents were being insufferable, so I needed to get out of the house again.”

So Tucker’s still supposed to let Sam do the talking, then.

“Ah,” Danny says with a nod. “Sorry, that sucks.”

Sam shrugs it off. “It’s fine. They’re just hard to deal with sometimes. Sorry we didn’t tell you. Just, you know, grounding. We figured you still couldn’t come.”

“You figured right,” says Mr. Fenton, pounding a fist on the table, and all three of them become instantly re-aware of the fact that Danny’s parents are sitting right next to them. “He’s still got another three months before he can come back here.” There’s a pause as Mr. Fenton looks around. “Obviously, this doesn’t count.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam says.

“Yes, I get it, you’re attempting to ruin what little social life I actually have,” Danny says, looking up at the ceiling in obvious exasperation. “Do you have to do it right now, too?”

Tucker laughs a little despite himself. Danny at least doesn’t seem that bothered by them supposedly having fun without him today.

…Tucker’s supposed to be hunting his ghost now.

He looks back down at his own food, pushing his fries around on his plate. Suddenly he doesn’t feel that hungry anymore. He just wants to put on whatever face won’t get him asked questions until he can go home and crawl into bed. Then he can sleep until his body doesn’t ache anymore.

He doubts there’s much to be done about the churning in his stomach, though.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #jazz fenton #tw emotional manipulation #everyone knows au #my fic

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twisting-echo · 6 months

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Grayluftw Callout Post!!

This document contains screenshots of the DM history of the disturbing, homophobic, and gaslighting behavior of @graylunation

This also has a lot of talk/discourse centered around Helluva Boss characters.

This document may have triggering content, so please read at your own discretion.

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spop-romanticizes-abuse · 1 month

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pt. 2 to answer @altofmoth 's question (click here to see pt. 1!)

5. mind control

mind control is a classic villain's move but when that villain is supposed to be sympathetic and who later gets into a relationship with the same person they tried to control... yikes.

catra is visibly happy about adora going through excruciating pain because of the virus, she shows no concern or remorse over hurting her former best friend/love interest this way. and she is completely willing to take away adora's freewill if it means defeating the rebellion.

6. attempted murder

yeah, i don't think i have to explain this. again, notice that adora has attempted to murder catra very few times. adora's main objective was just to defeat catra (or get her to join the rebellion) while catra's objective was to always hurt adora in any way possible.

7. catra brags about adora being easy to manipulate

these are just three instances but it's not very romantic to talk about how easily you can manipulate your s/o and take advantage of their weaknesses.

8. weird incestuous undertones

adora and catra were both raised by shadow weaver and has an obvious scapegoat - golden child dynamic. catra especially seeks out shadow weaver's love and validation, and she's jealous of adora because shadow weaver favours adora more.

this is a very common trope between fictional siblings like zuko and azula, cassandra and rapunzel, soren and claudia, etc. and of course, it's a very common dynamic between siblings in real life too, when they are raised by an abusive parent. all of this makes the idea of a romantic relationship between catra and adora pretty icky.

9. catra's redemption or lack thereof doesn't help with this whole situation

catra's redemption is all lipservice. she does actually change at all. let's see,

she still holds adora responsible for things that she didn't do, and acts like adora is a hindrance.

she still uses physical violence on adora for absolutely no reason.

she abandons adora when she's about to die because adora doesn't return catra's romantic feelings (and she later blames adora for always leaving people behind).

not to mention, catra's confession is so guilt trippy. the fact that she apparently loved adora all this time, when she was abusing, manipulating, gaslighting, trying to control and trying to kill adora, is the biggest red flag.

it's not like catra only started liking adora in s5. this confession reframes their entire relationship and implies that catra tortured adora physically and emotionally because she was in love with her. and again, the whole “just this once, stay” implies that catra still thinks that adora abandoned her, after everything that happened.

so yeah, i hope this answers your question!

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flymmsy · 3 months

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Dark Arranged Marriage with Gortash thoughts:

Very interested in the idea of if Gortash had a wife throughout this whole Absolute plot. It was an arranged marriage of sorts, and probably one he orchestrated to help him move up in society. She is not a Banite, and has no hand in the Absolute plot.

And they’ve been together for many years, and you’d be able to chart the course of their relationship from (falsely) happy honeymooners to a slow descent into an extremely abusive situation.

When shit really hits the fan - she plans to threaten to expose his plot. She finds him in their children’s nursery - looming as he watches them play.

And maybe she could even be persuaded to assist Tav in the events of the game.

#she could pull a DAO Anora and take over as true Archduchess #that would be badass #tw abuse #tw emotional abuse #tw abusive marriage #tw emotional manipulation #enver gortash #bg3 #this could also be adjusted to be a #tavtash #story of course

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inkblot22 · 1 year

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Crazy sickening thought but what if there’s a scenario where azul takes advantage of reader? Like imagine reader not having anywhere to after four years and crowley giving up/deciding reader is too expensive and a burden to take care of since they are a grownup and haven’t been useful. They decide to desperate to find a way so they and grim dont end up on the streets look for azul for a place to stay and azul agrees only if they agree to be azuls spouse and meet conditions of his like never leaving him, cooking for him, kissing him times throughout the day. Whats your thoughts on this? Do you think azul would add more terms?

Hello! This is excellent and you caught me on an Azul day. I apologize in advance because this is honestly a bit long.

TW controlling behavior, abuse, captivity, coerced marriage, Crowley being a deadbeat, non-consensual kissing/touch, isolation and being in the ocean at night, my best attempt at legalese, Jade and Floyd because these three are the scariest package deal ever conceived. Misogyny, if you squint, as well as house-spousification. That is a word now.

Grim is way too calm about this. It's not that you could really resent him for being oblivious, but sometimes you indulge your irritation with one thought, "Grim is lucky that I love him."

And he is. He's lucky that you're here, lucky that you're willing to sell your body to a certain silver-haired asshole just so he can indulge on various seafoods, including fresh-caught tuna.

Well, that's not really fair. Azul hasn't gotten more physical than a few hugs and kisses, sharing the same bed, that type of thing. You can tell he's considered doing more, you see it in his eyes when you lay down to go to sleep or wear certain colors, usually dark blues and violets. Not that you've worn much else in...

Seven, how long has it been? Let's see... On your fourth year at NRC, Dire Crowley invited you to his office for tea. Not in so many words, he said that your time at NRC was reaching the end of it's stay. He'd send for you upon discovering a way for you to return home, but until then, you and Grim needed to begin your internship within the week. You hid your unease as best as you could, but when you got back to Ramshackle, you could barely breathe. Grim wasn't present for the meeting, so when he saw your obvious despair he immediately threatened to burn whoever had hurt you. You had laughed it off, promising him that everything would be okay.

You should have known, honestly. You sent messages to both Ace and Deuce, letting them know what happened, and they both felt awful, but were in no position to have you come stay with them. Although any of your former upperclassmen would have probably accepted you, but right when you were wondering how you were supposed to get a job without any form of identification past your very own person, much less a place to stay, you received a message in a group chat you had long forgotten about.

Underneath the all caps title of the chat, "THE FISH MAFIA," Jade had simply invited you to the Coral Sea with Grim for a dinner. Of course you had accepted. Perhaps you could ask Azul for a job in his mother's restaurant, and subsequently, move to whatever land mass was near the Coral Sea. That way you and Grim wouldn't be homeless.

You let Crowley know and he set up the mirror for your departure, even going so far as to give you a pair of potions so you wouldn't drown and wishing you well. You tried not to dislike him even more for that, tried being the key word.

Jade and Floyd were waiting for you on the other side. They looked about the same as the last time you'd seen them, perhaps a little longer than before. Floyd grabbed both you and Grim and darted through the water, stopping in front of an elegant building that seemed to be made out of shells. You were guided in, all the way to the back, where Azul was waiting, in human form.

"Hello, Prefect... or shall I just use your name? From what I've heard, you won't be living in Ramshackle for much longer."

You had forgotten about that. Your memories, up until that point, were relatively positive when it came to Azul, so of course you overlooked his harsh comments, forgotten by the haze of happy memories you had with him. But Azul had always been somewhat mean.

"Regardless, take a seat. We have all the foods you like on the land, and then some." He offered you a somewhat wan smile, "No drinks, though. Sorry. Perhaps we can go to a cafe after this business is finished."

You took a seat and one of the servers placed a large, flat rock on your lap.

"It's to keep you from floating away." Azul had said.

You thought that was kind of fun. That was probably the last time you had that thought connected to Azul. Grim didn't bat an eye and began scarfing down the contents of the table, and you met Azul's staring eye.

"Business?"

"Yes, my darling, business. I take it that you don't have a large window of opportunity, so please believe me when I say I want the best for you and your familiar. I am offering you a place to stay, food, drinks, and clothing. All you have to do is sign this teensy little document."

"Wait, what's goin' on?" Grim paused his eating to give you a confused look.

"Oh... It'll all work out, Grim," You began.

"Dire Crowley has given our little human here a week to move out of Ramshackle house." Azul interrupted.

"Good! That place was run-down anyway!" He went back to eating.

You couldn't blame him for his shortsightedness then. You simply sighed and Azul addressed you again.

"So, my dear, knowing that I will provide for you and your familiar, and knowing that you'll be homeless in a week's time with no real way to regain a home, I believe you can understand how signing this is in your best interest."

You nod, once, slightly hesitantly, and Azul smiles, passing a document to you. It's dry to the touch, but a quick scan and you decided it was better to just sign and get it over with.

Presently, tucked neatly under Azul's arm as dawn breaks over the beachside, you really wish that you'd read the entire contract earlier.

It wasn't so bad at first, he set you and Grim up on the top floor of one of the land-based establishments that his mother owned and had passed down to him. He said it was something of a side hobby, but you read it more as a front for his other business. Regardless, for a long while, things were fine. What little you had was already in the room he'd set up for you and Grim. But then the stipulations of the contract began coming into effect.

Within three months of the signing date, the signor will be legally wed to the signee.

That wasn't so bad. The wedding was ridiculously extravagant, but you managed to wrangle Grim into a bow tie and that was cute enough. Azul was all smiles, but every time you wanted to run, you remembered that it was all for your and Grim's wellbeing.

The first night you went home as spouses, Azul talked at length about a possible honeymoon. You nodded along, too tired from the day's events, and went to open the door to the room you'd been sharing until now with Grim. Azul grabbed you by your arm, hard enough to leave a mark, and pulled you into the master suite.

"Married couples should sleep together, shouldn't they?"

2. Both parties are required to show the other affection, physical and otherwise. The consequence of withholding such results in a loss of privileges.

This was a bit less okay. Azul wasn't overly touchy, but you found that he didn't care who saw what. You weren't opposed to most of it, seeing as his hand was usually on your shoulder or back, somewhere not at all concerning, but he also would occasionally turn and kiss you without warning or permission.

It made your head spin. In every other way, he was very reserved, but every time he kissed you was so random. It wasn't that he smelled bad or tasted bad, unless he had just returned from a meeting, wherein he would generally smell like alcohol-free bourbon or something adjacent. You'd always try harder than usual to pull away when he smelled like that.

"It's just a gentleman's drink, my angel... My goodness, I didn't know you were this shy!"

3. If the signatory is otherwise unoccupied around noon, they will prepare lunch for their spouse and bring it to him. A breach of this term will result in the signatory's familiar being put outside for a night. *See addendum A.

Every day, for the last year, you have walked in, regardless of Azul being in the middle of a meeting or not, and served him a lunch that you threw together.

At this point, you're pretty certain that you could bring him a banana peel coated in mayo and ketchup on a dirty plate and he'd eat it like it was the best thing in the world. Every time you put lunch in front of him, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, pressing a kiss against your ribs and looking up at you as if you've hung the moon.

"This looks delicious, my angel. Thank you."

4. Privileges such as allowance, certain articles of clothing, certain food items, will be withheld in the case of a breach of contract.

This one wasn't really observed by Azul. As far as you could recall, every time you messed up, he would become inconsolable, then really cold.

If you did something he really, really didn't like, he'd "invite" you for a midnight swim, then lock you in the bathroom while you were still wet. This is why an addendum was added, since getting sopping wet and locked in a cold bathroom resulted in you getting sick and unable to make lunch.

"I'm doing this because I love you so much."

5. The signatory shall adopt the moniker of a stay-at-home spouse. They will be allowed days to go out and shop for both necessary groceries and personal effects.

Your "going out" days were Wednesdays and Saturdays, partially because that gave Azul an excuse to tag along on at least one of those days and also because he could send one of his lackeys to follow you and Grim around.

Everything you purchased was looked over by him, and when you got home, he'd ask you about various items you purchased while trying to coax you to sit with him.

"Angel, why in the world do you need... five packages of... 'dino gro capsules'?"

6. Azul Ashengrotto may exercise his discretion to determine whether or not his spouse is following the contract to the best of their ability.

Azul was not a fair or reliable judge. At best, he wanted you to be by his side as often as possible, but at worst, he'd be irritated by Grim's very presence in the house. You weren't afforded much mercy. If the twins were visiting on land, which they did way more often than you liked, and you happened to have really done it that day, they'd sneak in and drape blankets over you.

Azul didn't care if he noticed, and it felt like every day it got worse. Every day you'd find out about another rule of the contract, every day you'd have to lie and tell Grim that everything was okay.

But you could feel it, this pressure, building up within you. One of these days, you'd snap, and hopefully Grim wouldn't be there to see it.

Because you didn't want him to think you resented him.

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